A Victor of Salamis

by William Stearns Davis

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE COMMANDMENT OF XERXES

  It is easy to praise the blessings of peace. Still easier to paint thehorrors of war,--and yet war will remain for all time the greatest game atwhich human wits can play. For in it every form of courage, physical andmoral, and every talent are called into being. If war at once develops thebestial, it also develops as promptly the heroic. Alone of humanactivities it demands a brute's strength, an iron will, a serpent'sintellect, a lion's courage--all in one. And of him who has these things injustest measure, history writes, "He conquered." It was because Mardoniusseemed to possess all these, to foresee everything, to surmounteverything, that Glaucon despaired for the fate of Hellas, even more thanwhen he beheld the crushing armaments of the Persian.

  Yet for long it seemed as if the host would march even to Athens withoutbattle, without invoking Mardonius's skill. The king crossed Thrace andMacedonia, meeting only trembling hospitality from the cities along hisroute. At Doriscus he had held a review of his army, and smiled when thefawning scribes told how one million seven hundred thousand foot andeighty thousand horse followed his banners.(8) Every fugitive and spy fromsouthern Hellas told how the hearts of the stanchest patriots weresinking, how everywhere save in Athens and Sparta loud voices urged thesending of "earth and water,"--tokens of submission to the irresistibleking. At the pass of Tempe covering Thessaly, Glaucon, who knew the hopesof Themistocles, had been certain the Hellenes would make a stand. Rumourhad it that ten thousand Greek infantry were indeed there, and ready forbattle. But the outlaw's expectations were utterly shattered. To thedisgust of the Persian lords, who dearly loved brisk fighting, it was soontold how the cowardly Hellenes had fled by ship, leaving the rich plainsof Thessaly bare to the invader.

  Thus was blasted Glaucon's last hope. Hellas was doomed. He almost lookedto see Themistocles coming as ambassador to bring the homage of Athens.Since his old life seemed closed to the outlaw, he allowed Mardonius tohave his will with him,--to teach him to act, speak, think, as an Oriental.He even bowed himself low before the king, an act rewarded by beingcommanded one evening to play at dice with majesty itself. Xerxes wasactually gracious enough to let his new subject win from him threehandsome Syrian slave-boys.

  "You Hellenes are becoming wise," announced the monarch one day, when theLocrian envoys came with their earth and water. "If you can learn to speakthe truth, you will equal even the virtues of the Aryans."

  "Your Majesty has not found me a liar," rejoined the Athenian, warmly.

  "You gather our virtues apace. I must consider how I can reward you bypromotion."

  "The king is overwhelmingly generous. Already I fear many of his servantsmutter that I am promoted beyond all desert."

  "Mutter? mutter against you?" The king's eyes flashed ominously. "ByMazda, it is against me, then, who advanced you! Hearken, Otanes,"--headdressed the general of the Persian footmen, who stood near by,--"who arethe disobedient slaves who question my advancement of Prexaspes?"

  The general--he had been the loudest grumbler--bowed and kissed the carpet.

  "None, your Eternity; on the contrary, there is not one Aryan in the hostwho does not rejoice the king has found so noble an object for his godlikebounty."

  "You hear, Prexaspes," said Xerxes, mollified. "I am glad, for the man whoquestions my wisdom touching your advancement must be impaled. To-morrowis my birthday, you will not fail to sit with the other great lords at thebanquet."

  "The king overpowers me with his goodness."

  "Do not fail to deserve it. Mardonius is always praising you. Consideralso how much better it is to depend on a gracious king than on theclamour of the fickle mob that rules in your helpless cities!"

  * * * * * * *

  The next morning was the royal birthday. The army, pitched in the fertileplain by Thessalian Larissa, feasted on the abundance at hand. The kingdistributed huge largesses of money. All day long he sat in hispalace-like tent, receiving congratulations from even the lowest of hisfollowers, and bound in turn not to reject any reasonable petition. TheMagi sacrificed blooded stallions and rare spices to Mithra the "Lord ofWide Pastures," to Vohu-Manu the "Holy Councillor," and all their otherangels, desiring them to bless the arms of the king.

  The "Perfect Banquet" of the birthday came in the evening. It hardlydiffered from the feast at Sardis. The royal pavilion had its poles platedwith silver, the tapestries were green and purple, the couches were spreadwith gorgeous coverlets. Only the drinking was more moderate, theceremonial less rigid. The fortunate guests devoured dainties reserved forthe special use of royalty: the flour of the bread was from Assos, thewine from Helbon, the water to dilute the wine had come in silver flasksfrom the Choaspes by Susa. The king even distributed the special unguentof lion's fat and palm wine which no subject, unpermitted, could use andshun the death penalty.

  Then at the end certain of the fairest of the women came and dancedunveiled before the king--this one night when they might show forth theirbeauty. And last of all danced Roxana. She danced alone; a diaphanousdrapery of pink Egyptian cotton blew around her as an evening cloud. Fromher black hair shone the diamond coronet. To the sensuous swing of themusic she wound in and out before the king and his admiring lords,advancing, retreating, rising, swaying, a paragon of agility and grace,feet, body, hands, weaving their charm together. When at the end she fellon her knees before the king, demanding whether she had done well, theapplause shook the pavilion. The king looked down on her, smiling.

  "Rise, sister of Mardonius. All Eran rejoices in you to-night. And on thisevening whose request can I fail to grant? Whose can I grant more gladlythan yours? Speak; you shall have it, though it be for half my kingdoms."

  The dancer arose, but hung down her flashing coronal. Her blush wasenchanting. She stood silent, while the good-humoured king smiled down onher, till Artazostra came from her seat by Mardonius and whispered in herear. Every neck in the crowded pavilion was craned as Artazostra spoke toXerxes.

  "May it please my royal brother, this is the word of Roxana. 'I love mybrother Mardonius; nevertheless, contrary to the Persian custom, he keepsme now to my nineteenth year unwedded. If now I have found favour in thesight of the king, let him command Mardonius to give me to some nobleyouth who shall do me honour by the valiant deeds and the true service heshall render unto my Lord.' "

  "A fair petition! Let the king grant it!" shouted twenty; while othersmore wise whispered, "This was not done without foreknowledge byMardonius."

  Xerxes smiled benignantly and rubbed his nose with the lion's fat whiledeliberating.

  "An evil precedent, lady, an evil precedent when women demand husbands anddo not wait for their fathers' or brothers' good pleasure. But I havepromised. The word of the king is not to be broken. Daughter of Gobryas,your petition is granted. Come hither, Mardonius,"--the bow-bearerapproached the throne,--"you have heard the bold desire of your sister, andmy answer. I must command you to bestow on her a husband."

  The bow-bearer bowed obediently.

  "I hear the word of the king, and all his mandates are good. This is nomeet time for marriage festivities, when the Lord of the World and all theAryan power goes forth to war. Yet as soon as the impious rebels amongstthe Hellenes shall be subdued, I will rejoice to bestow my sister uponwhatsoever fortunate servant the king may deign to honour."

  "You hear him, lady,"--the royal features assumed a grin, which wasreflected throughout the pavilion. "A husband you shall have, butMardonius shall be revenged. Your fate is in my hands. And shall notI,--guardian of the households of my empire,--give a warning to all boldmaidens against lifting their wills too proudly, or presuming upon anoverindulgent king? What then shall be just punishment?" The king bent hishead, still rubbing his nose, and trying to persuade all about that he wasmeditating.

  "Bardas, satrap of Sogandia, is old; he has but one eye; they say he beatshis eleven wives daily with a whip of rhinoceros hide. It
would be just ifI gave him this woman also in marriage. What think you, Hydarnes?"

  "If your Eternity bestows this woman on Bardas, every husband and fatherin all your kingdoms will applaud your act," smiled the commander.

  The threatened lady fell again on her knees, outstretching her hands andbeseeching mercy,--never a more charming picture of misery and contrition.

  "You tremble, lady," went on the sovran, "and justly. It were better formy empire if my heart were less hard. After all, you danced so elegantlythat I must be mollified. There is the young Prince Zophyrus, son of Datisthe general,--he has only five wives already. True, he is usually the worsefor wine, is not handsome, and killed one of his women not long sincebecause she did not sing to please him. Yes--you shall have Zophyrus--hewill surely rule you--"

  "Mercy, not Zophyrus, gracious Lord," pleaded the abject Egyptian.

  The king looked down on her, with a broader grin than ever.

  "You are very hard to please. I ought to punish your wilfulness by somedreadful doom. Do not cry out again. I will not hear you. My decision isfixed. Mardonius shall bestow you in marriage to a man who is not even aPersian by birth, who one year since was a disobedient rebel against mypower, who even now contemns and despises many of the good customs of theAryans. Hark, then, to his name. When Hellas is conquered, I command thatMardonius wed you to the Lord Prexaspes."

  The king broke into an uproarious laugh, a signal for the thousand loyalsubjects within the great pavilion to roar with laughter also. In theconfusion following Artazostra and Roxana disappeared. Fifty hands draggedthe appointed bridegroom to the king, showering on him all manner ofcongratulations. Xerxes's act was a plain proof that he was adopting thebeautiful Hellene as one of his personal favourites,--a post of influenceand honour not to be despised by a vizier. What "Prexaspes" said when hethanked the king was drowned in the tumult of laughing and cheering. Themonarch, delighted to play the gracious god, roared his injunctions to theAthenian so loud that above the din they heard him.

  "You will bridle her well, Prexaspes. I know them--those Egyptian fillies!They need a hard curb and the lash at times. Beware the tyranny of yourown harem. I would not have the satrapies know how certain bright eyes inthe seraglio can make the son of Darius play the fool. There is nothingmore dangerous than women. It will take all your courage to master them. Ahard task lies before you. I have given you one wife, but you know ourgood Persian custom--five, ten, or twenty. Take the score, I order you.Then in twelve years you'll be receiving the prize a Persian king bestowsevery summer on the father of the most children!"

  And following this broad hint, the king held his sides with laughteragain, a mirth which it is needless to say was echoed and reechoed till itseemed it could not cease. Only a few ventured to mutter under breath:"The Hellene will have a subsatrapy in the East before the season is overand a treasure of five thousand talents! Mithra wither the upstart!"

  * * * * * * *

  The summer was waning when the host moved southward from Larissa, for merenumbers had made progress slow, and despite Mardonius's providence thequestion of commissariat sometimes became difficult. Now at last, leavingbehind Thrace and Macedonia, the army began to enter Greece itself. As itfared across the teeming plains of Thessaly, it met only welcome from theinhabitants and submissions from fresh embassies. Report came from thefleet--keeping pace with the land army along the coasts--that nowhere hadthe weak squadrons of the Greeks adventured a stand. Daily the smile ofthe Lord of the World grew more complacent, as his "table-companions" toldhim: "The rumour of your Eternity's advent stupefies the miserableHellenes. Like Atar, the Angel of Fire, your splendour glitters afar. Youwill enter Athens and Sparta, and no sword leave its sheath, no bow itswrapper."

  Every day Mardonius asked of Glaucon, "Will your Hellenes fight?" and theanswer was ever more doubting, "I do not know."

  Long since Glaucon had given up hope of the defeat of the Persian. Now heprayed devoutly there might be no useless shedding of blood. If only hecould turn back and not behold the humiliation of Athens! Of the fate ofthe old-time friends--Democrates, Cimon, Hermione--he tried not to think. Nodoubt Hermione was the wife of Democrates. More than a year had sped sincethe flight from Colonus. Hermione had put off her mourning for the yellowveil of a bride. Glaucon prayed the war might bring her no new sorrow,though Democrates, of course, would resist Persia to the end. As forhimself he would never darken their eyes again. He was betrothed toRoxana. With her he would seek one of those valleys in Bactria which shehad praised, the remoter the better, and there perhaps was peace.

  Thus the host wound through Thessaly, till before them rose, peak on peak,the jagged mountain wall of Othrys and OEta, fading away in violetdistance, the bulwark of central Hellas. Then the king's smile became afrown, for the Hellenes, undismayed despite his might, were assemblingtheir fleet at northern Euboea, and at the same time a tempest hadshattered a large part of the royal navy. The Magi offered sacrifice toappease Tishtrya, the Prince of the Wind-ruling Stars, but the king'sfrown grew blacker at each message. Glaucon was near him when at last themonarch's thunders broke forth.

  A hot, sultry day. The king's chariot had just crossed the mountain streamof the Sphercus, when a captain of a hundred came galloping, dismounted,and prostrated himself in the dust.

  "Your tidings?" demanded Xerxes, sharply.

  "Be gracious, Fountain of Mercy,"--the captain evidently disliked hismission,--"I am sent from the van. We came to a place where the mountainsthrust down upon the sea and leave but a narrow road by the ocean. Yourslaves found certain Hellenes, rebels against your benignant government,holding a wall and barring all passage to your army."

  "And did you not forthwith seize these impudent wretches and drag themhither to be judged by me?"

  "Compassion, Omnipotence,"--the messenger trembled,--"they seemed sturdy,well-armed rogues, and the way was narrow and steep where a score can facea thousand. Therefore, your slave came straight with his tidings to theever gracious king."

  "Dog! Coward!" Xerxes plucked the whip from the charioteer's hand andlashed it over the wretch's shoulders. "By the _fravashi_, the soul ofDarius my father, no man shall bring so foul a word to me and live!"

  "Compassion, Omnipotence, compassion!" groaned the man, writhing like aworm. Already the master-of-punishments was approaching to cover his facewith a towel, preparatory to the bow-string, but the royal anger spentitself just enough to avert a tragedy.

  "Your life is forfeit, but I am all too merciful! Take then three hundredstripes on the soles of your feet and live to be braver in the future."

  "A thousand blessings on your benignity," cried the captain, as they ledhim away, "I congratulate myself that insignificant as I am the king yetdeigns to notice my existence even to recompense my shortcomings."

  "Off," ordered the bristling monarch, "or you die the death yet. And doyou, Mardonius, take Prexaspes, who somewhat knows this country, spurforward, and discover who are the madmen thus earning their destruction."

  The command was obeyed. Glaucon galloped beside the Prince, overtaking themarching army, until as they cantered into the little mud-walled city ofHeraclea a second messenger from the van met them with further details.

  "The pass is held by seven thousand Grecian men-at-arms. There are noAthenians. There are three hundred come from Sparta."

  "And their chief?" asked Glaucon, leaning eagerly.

  "Is Leonidas of Lacedaemon."

  "Then, O Mardonius," spoke the Athenian, with a throb in his voice notthere an hour ago. "There will be battle."

  So, whether wise men or mad, the Hellenes were not to lay down their armswithout one struggle, and Glaucon knew not whether to be sorry or to beproud.