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  CHAPTER XVI

  THE COMING OF XERXES THE GOD-KING

  At last the lotus-eating ended. Repeated messengers told how Xerxes wasquitting Babylon, was holding a muster in Cappadocia, and now was crossingAsia Minor toward Sardis. Mardonius and his companions had returned tothat capital. Daily the soldiery poured into Sardis by tens of thousands.Glaucon knew now it was not a vain boast that for ten years the East hadbeen arming against Hellas, that the whole power of the twenty satrapieswould be flung as one thunderbolt upon devoted Greece.

  In the plain about Sardis a second city was rising, of wicker booths andgay pavilions. The host grew hourly. Now a band of ebony archers inleopard skins entered from far Ethiopia, now Bactrian battle-axemen, nowyellow-faced Tartars from the northeast, now bright-turbaned Arabs upontheir swaying camels,--Syrians, Cilicians, black-bearded Assyrians andBabylonians, thick-lipped Egyptians, came, and many a strange race more.

  But the core of the army were the serried files of Aryan horse andfoot,--blond-headed, blue-eyed men, Persians and Medes, veterans of twentyvictories. Their muscles were tempered steel. Their unwearying feet hadtramped many a long parasang. Some were light infantry with wicker shieldsand powerful bows, but as many more horsemen in gold-scaled armour andwith desert steeds that flew like Pegasus.

  "The finest cavalry in the world!" Mardonius vaunted, and his guest durstnot answer nay.

  Satrap after satrap came. When at last a foaming Arab galloping to thecastle proclaimed, "Next morn the Lord of the World will enter Sardis,"Glaucon could scarce have looked for a greater, though he had expectedCronian Zeus himself.

  Mardonius, as "bow-bearer to the king," a semi-regal office, rode forth astage to meet the sovran. The streets of Sardis were festooned withflowers. Thousands of spearmen held back the crowds. The Athenian stoodbeside Roxana and Artazostra at the upper window of a Lydian merchantprince, and his eyes missed nothing.

  Never had the two women seemed lovelier than when their hearts ran out totheir approaching king. He felt now the power of personal sovranty, howthese children of the East awaited not Xerxes the Master, but Xerxes theOmnipotent, God-Manifest, whose decrees were as the decrees of Heaven. Andtheir awe could not fail to awe the Athenian.

  At noon the multitude caught the first token of the king. Down the road,through the gate, walked a man, bare-headed, bare-footed,alone,--Artaphernes, despot of all Lydia, going to pay his abject homage.Presently the eunuch priests of Cybele, perched above the gate, clashedtheir cymbals and raised their hymn of welcome. To the boom of drums thethousand chosen cavalry and as many picked footmen of the Life Guardentered, tall, magnificent soldiers,--caps and spear butts shining withgold. After these a gilded car drawn by the eight sacred horses, eachmilk-white, and on the car an altar bearing the eternal fire of Mazda.Then, each in his flashing chariot, moved the "Six Princes," the heads ofthe great clans of the Achaemenians, then two hundred led desert horses, insplendid trappings, and then--after a long interval, that the host mightcast no dust upon its lord, rode a single horseman on a jet-black steed,Artabanus--the king's uncle and vizier. He beckoned to the people.

  "Have fear, Lydians, the giver of breath to all the world comes nowbeneath your gates!"

  The lines of soldiers flung down their spears and dropped upon theirknees. The multitude imitated. A chariot came running behind four of thesacred steeds of Nisaea,--their coats were like new snow, their manesbraided with gold thread, bridle, bits, pole, baseboard, shone with gemsand the royal metal. The wheel was like the sun. A girl-like youth guidedthe crimson reins, a second held the tall green parasol. Its shadow didnot hide the commanding figure upon the car. Glaucon looked hard. Nomistaking--Xerxes was here, the being who could say to millions "Die!" andthey perished like worms; in verity "God-Manifest."

  For in looks Xerxes, son of Darius, was surely the Great King. A figure ofaugust height was set off nobly by the flowing purple caftan and thepurple cap which crowned the curling black hair. The riches of satrapieswere in the rubies and topazes on sword sheath and baldric. The head wasraised. The face was not regular, but of a proud, aquiline beauty. Theskin was olive, the eyes dark, a little pensive. If there were weak linesabout the mouth, the curling beard covered them. The king looked straighton, unmoved by the kneeling thousands, but as he came abreast of thebalcony, chance made him look upward. Perhaps the sight of the beautifulGreek caused Xerxes to smile winsomely. The smile of a god can intoxicate.Caught away from himself, Glaucon the Alcmaeonid joined in the great salvoof cheering.

  "Victory to Xerxes! Let the king of kings reign forever!"

  The chariot was gone almost instantly, a vast retinue--cooks, eunuchs,grooms, hunters, and many closed litters bearing the royalconcubines--followed, but all these passed before Glaucon shook off thespell the sight of royalty cast on him.

  * * * * * * *

  That night in the palace Xerxes gave a feast in honour of the newcampaign. The splendours of a royal banquet in the East need no retelling.Silver lamps, carpets of Kerman rugs or of the petals of fresh roses, athousand lutes and dulcimers, precious Helbon wine flowing like water,cups of Phoenician crystal, tables groaning with wild boars roasted whole,dancing women none too modest,--these were but the incidentals of agorgeous confusion. To Glaucon, with the chaste loveliness of thePanathenaea before his mind, the scene was one of vast wonderment butscarcely of pleasure. The Persian did nothing by halves. In battle a hero,at his cups he became a satyr. Many of the scenes before the guestsemptied the last of the tall silver tankards were indescribable.

  * * * * * * *

  On the high dais above the roaring hall sat Xerxes the king,--adored,envied, pitiable.

  When Spitames, the seneschal, brought him the cup, the bearer bowed hisface, not daring to look on his dread lord's eyes.

  When Artabanus, the vizier, approached with a message, he first kissed thecarpet below the dais.

  When Hydarnes, commander of the Life Guard, drew near to receive thewatchword for the night, he held his mantle before his mouth, lest hisbreath pollute the world monarch.

  Yet of all forms of seeming prosperity wherewith Fate can curse a man, theworst was the curse of Xerxes. To be called "god" when one is finite andmortal; to have no friends, but only a hundred million slaves; to bedenied the joys of honest wish and desire because there were none leftunsatisfied; to have one's hastiest word proclaimed as an edict of deity;never to be suffered to confess a mistake, cost what the blunder might,that the "king of kings" might seem lifted above all human error; inshort, to be the bondsman of one's own deification,--this was the hardcaptivity of the lord of the twenty satrapies.

  For Xerxes the king was a man,--of average instincts, capacities, goodness,wickedness. A god or a genius could have risen above his fearfulisolation. Xerxes was neither. The iron ceremonial of the Persian courtleft him of genuine pleasures almost none. Something novel, a raresensation, an opportunity to vary the dreary monotony of splendour by anastounding act of generosity or an act of frightful cruelty,--it matteredlittle which,--was snatched at by the king with childlike eagerness. Andthis night Xerxes was in an unwontedly gracious mood. At his elbow, as hesat on the throne cased with lapis lazuli and onyx, waited the one man whocame nearest to being a friend and not a slave,--Mardonius, son of Gobryas,the bow-bearer,--and therefore more entitled than any other prince of thePersians to stand on terms of intimacy with his lord.

  While Spitames passed the wine, the king hearkened with condescending andapproving nod to the report of the Prince as to his mad adventure inHellas. Xerxes even reproved his brother-in-law mildly for hazarding hisown life and that of his wife among those stiff-necked tribesmen who wereso soon to taste the Aryan might.

  "It was in your service, Omnipotence," the Prince was rejoining blandly;"what if not I alone, but a thousand others of the noblest of the Persiansand the Medes may perish, if only the glory of their king is advanced?"

&n
bsp; "Nobly said; you are a faithful slave, Mardonius. I will remember you whenI have burned Athens."

  He even reached forth and stroked the bow-bearer's hand, a condescensionwhich made the footstool-bearer, parasol-bearer, quiver-bearer, and adozen great lords more gnaw their lips with envy. Hydarnes, the commanderwho had waited an auspicious moment, now thought it safe to kneel on thelowest step of the throne.

  "Omnipotence, I am constrained to tell you that certain miserable Helleneshave been seized in the camp to-night--spies sent to pry out your power. Doyou deign to have them impaled, crucified, or cast into the adders' cage?"

  The king smiled magnanimously.

  "They shall not die. Show them the host, and all my power. Then send themhome to their fellow-rebels to tell the madness of dreaming to withstandmy might."

  The smile of Xerxes had spread, like the ripple from a pebble splashing ina pool, over the face of every nobleman in hearing. Now their praises cameas a chant.

  "O Ocean of Clemency and Wisdom! Happy Eran in thy sagacious yet mercifulking!"

  Xerxes, not heeding, turned to Mardonius.

  "Ah! yes,--you were telling how you corrupted one of the chief Athenians,then had to flee. On the voyage you were shipwrecked?"

  "So I wrote to Babylon, to your Eternity."

  "And a certain Athenian fugitive saved your lives? And you brought him toSardis?"

  "I did so, Omnipotence."

  "Of course he is at the banquet."

  "The king speaks by the promptings of Mazda. I placed him with certainfriends and bade them see he did not lack good cheer."

  "Send,--I would talk with him."

  "Suffer me to warn your Majesty," ventured Mardonius, "he is an Athenianand glories in being of a stubborn, Persian-hating stock. I fear he willnot perform due obeisance to the Great King."

  "I can endure his rudeness," spoke Xerxes, for once in excellent humour;"let the 'supreme usher' bring him with full speed."

  The functionary thus commanded bowed himself to the ground and hastened onhis errand.

  But well that Mardonius had deprecated the wrath of the monarch. Glauconcame with his head high, his manner almost arrogant. The mere fact thathis boldness might cost him his life made him less bending than ever. Hetrod firmly upon the particular square of golden carpet at the foot of thedais which none, saving the king, the vizier, and the "Six Princes," couldlawfully tread. He held his hands at his sides, firmly refusing to concealthem in his cloak, as court etiquette demanded. As he stood on the stepsof the throne, he gave the glittering monarch the same familiar bow hemight have awarded a friend he met in the Agora. Mardonius was troubled.The supreme usher was horrified. The master-of-punishments, ever near hischief, gazed eagerly to see if Xerxes would not touch the audaciousHellene's girdle--a sign for prompt decapitation. Only the good nature ofthe king prevented a catastrophe, and Xerxes was moved by two motives,pleasure at meeting a fellow-mortal who could look him in the eye withoutservility or fear, delight at the beautiful features and figure of theAthenian. For an instant monarch and fugitive looked face to face, thenXerxes stretched out, not his hand, but the gold tip of his ivory baton.Glaucon had wisdom enough to touch it,--a token that he was admitted toaudience with the king.

  "You are from Athens, beautiful Hellene," spoke Xerxes, still admiring thestranger. "I will question you. Let Mardonius interpret."

  "I have learned Persian, great sir," interposed Glaucon, never waiting forthe bow-bearer.

  "You have done well," rejoined the smiling monarch; "yet better had youlearned our Aryan manners of courtliness. No matter--you will learn themlikewise in good time. Now tell me your name and parentage."

  "I am Glaucon, son of Conon, of the house of the Alcmaeonidae."

  "Great nobles, Omnipotence," interposed Mardonius, "so far as nobility canbe reckoned among the Greeks."

  "I have yet to learn their genealogies," remarked Xerxes, dryly; then heturned back to Glaucon. "And do your parents yet live, and have you anybrethren?" The question was a natural one for an Oriental. Glaucon'sanswer came with increased pride.

  "I am a child of my parent's old age. My mother is dead. My father isfeeble. I have no brethren. Two older brothers I had. One fell here atSardis, when we Athenians sacked the city. One fell victorious atMarathon, while he burned a Persian ship. Therefore I am not ashamed oftheir fates."

  "Your tongue is bold, Hellene," said the good-natured king; "you are but alame courtier. No matter. Tell me, nevertheless, why you churlishly refuseto do me reverence. Do you set yourself above all these princes of thePersians who bow before me?"

  "Not so, great sir. But I was born at Athens, not at Susa. We Hellenespray standing even to Zeus, stretching forth our hands and looking upward.Can I honour the lord of all the satrapies above the highest god?"

  "A nimble tongue you have, Athenian, though an unbending neck." Xerxes satand stroked his beard, pleased at the frank reply. "Mardonius has told howyou saved his and my sister's lives, and that you are an outlaw fromAthens."

  "The last is all too true, great sir."

  "Which means you will not pray your gods too hard for my defeat? ha?"

  Glaucon blushed, then looked up boldly.

  "A Persian king, I know, loves truth-telling. I still love and pray forAthens, even if unknown enemies conspired against me."

  "Humph! You can learn our other virtues later. Are you blind to my power?If so, I pity more than I blame you."

  "The king is kind," returned Glaucon, putting by a part of his hauteur. "Iwould not anger him. I only know he would rather have men say, 'Xerxesconquered a proud nation, hard to subdue,' than, 'He conquered a feeblerace of whining slaves.' "

  "Excellent! In all save your vain confidence of victory, you seem wisebeyond your youth. You are handsome. You are noble--"

  "Very noble," interposed Mardonius.

  "And you saved the lives of Mardonius and Artazostra. Did you know theirnobility when you rescued them?"

  "Not so. I would not let them drown like sheep."

  "The better, then. You acted without low motive of reward. Yet let the daynever come when Xerxes is called 'ungrateful' for benefits done hisservants. You shall come to love me by beholding my magnanimity. I willmake you a Persian, despite your will. Have you seen battle?"

  "I was too young to bear a spear at Marathon," was the unflinching answer.

  "Learn then to wield it in another army. Where is the archsecretary?"

  That functionary was present instantly. Mardonius, taking the whispers ofthe king, dictated an order which the scribe stamped on his tablet of wetclay with a rapid stylus.

  "Now the chief proclaimer," was the king's order, which brought a tall manin a bright scarlet caftan salaaming to the dais.

  He took the tablet from the secretary and gave a resounding blow upon thebrass gong dangling from his elbow. The clatter of wine cups ceased. Thedrinkers were silent on pain of death. The herald sent his proclamation instentorian voice down the hall:--

  "_In the name of Xerxes the Achaemenian, king of kings, king of Persia,Media, Babylon, and Lydia; smiter of the Scythians, dominator of theIndians, terror of the Hellenes; to all peoples of the world hisslaves,--hear ye!_

  "Says Xerxes the king, whose word changes not. Forasmuch as Glaucon theAthenian did save from death my servant and my sister, Mardonius andArtazostra, I do enroll him among the 'Benefactors of the King,' a sharerof my bounty forever. Let his name henceforth be not Glaucon, butPrexaspes. Let my purple cap be touched upon his head. Let him be giventhe robe of honour and the girdle of honour. Let the treasurer pay him atalent of gold. Let my servants honour him. Let those who mock at him beimpaled. And this I proclaim as my decree."

  What followed Glaucon was too bewildered to recall clearly. He knew thatthe archchamberlain lifted the great jewel-crusted hat from the king'shead and set it on his own for an instant, that they brought him a flowingpurple robe, and clasped about his waist a golden belt, every link setwith a stone of price. The hall arose _en masse_
to drink to the man whomthe sovran delighted to honour.

  "Hail! Thrice hail to the Lord Prexaspes! Justly rewarded by our graciousking!"

  No man refused his plaudit, and Glaucon never knew how many enviouscourtiers cheered with their lips and in their hearts muttered dark thingsagainst "the manner in which his Majesty loved to play the god and promotethis unknown Hellene above the heads of so many faithful subjects."

  Glaucon had made shift to speak some words of deprecation and gratitude toroyalty; his bow was deeper when the supreme usher led him away from thethrone than when he approached it. As he made his way out of thebanqueting hall, a score of noblemen, captains of thousands, over-eunuchs,and more trailed at his heels, salaaming, fawning, congratulating,offering all manner of service. Not on the days following his victory atthe Isthmia had his head been in such a whirl. He hardly heard thewell-meant warning which Artabanus, the shrewd old vizier, gave as hepassed the door of the great hall.

  "Play the game well, my new Lord Prexaspes. The king can make you satrapor he can crucify you. Play the game well, the stakes are high."

  Neither did he hear the conversation betwixt Xerxes and the bow-bearerwhilst he was being conducted away.

  "Have I done well to honour this man, Mardonius?"

  "Your Eternity was never more wise. Bear with his uncourtliness now, forhe is truthful, upright, and noble in soul--qualities rare in a Hellene.Give me but time. I will make him a worthy Persian indeed."

  "Do not fail therein," ordered the monarch, "for the youth has suchbeauty, both of body and mind, I am grieved he was born in Athens. Yetthere is one short way to wean him from his doomed and miserable country."

  "Will Omnipotence but name it?"

  "Search out for him a Persian wife, no, three or four wives--although Ihave heard the custom of these witless Greeks is to be content with onlyone. There is no surer way to turn his heart than that."

  "I thank your Eternity for your commandment. It shall not be forgotten."

  Mardonius bowed himself. Xerxes called for more wine. The feast lastedlate and ended in an orgy.