CHAPTER XXIII
IN THE WHIRLWIND'S TRACK
Long before Nathan with his captives reached the Persian capital, thesentinels upon the towers of Halicarnassus gave warning of the approachof Alexander's army. Fresh from the storming of stubborn Miletus, theMacedonians advanced against the lofty walls which sheltered the armyof Memnon, nearly as numerous as their own. At the first alarm thebraying of trumpets sounded through the city, and soldiers filled thestreets, marching quickly towards the Mylasan Gate.
Iphicrates, perched high on the walls with the corps of citizendefenders to which he belonged, watched the regular troops making readyfor their sally. He held a spear in his hand and a sword was buckledabout his fat sides.
"I wish I was with them," said a youth beside him, little more than aboy, gazing down upon the array.
"It's cooler up here--and safer too," the old money-lender muttered,wiping his brow.
"They will cut the Macedonians to pieces," the boy exclaimed, "and Ishall have no part in the victory."
"Patience!" Iphicrates answered. "Thy chance will come, perhaps."
The boy turned and looked outward towards the attacking army. "Theyhave stopped," he cried. "They are afraid!"
Iphicrates shaded his eyes with his hand. The Macedonians indeed hadhalted amid the clouds of dust that their feet had raised and theyseemed to be in some confusion. At that moment the gate was thrownopen and the garrison emerged in a wide, glittering column. The wallsrang with cheers. The column advanced, wheeled, and deployed in along, deep line, confronting the enemy. It was evidently Memnon's planto strike a blow that might prove decisive while the Macedonians werestill wearied from their march and before they were able to form. Hisarchers sent a flight of arrows towards the Macedonian ranks and hisspearmen prepared to charge.
Then behind the dust-cloud rose a sound that seemed to the watchersupon the walls like the murmur of a mighty river. The advance guard ofthe Macedonians scattered, and in its place appeared the solid front ofthe phalanx with its forest of sarissas.
"What are they singing?" asked the boy, gazing wide-eyed upon thechanging scene.
"It is the paean; they are calling upon the Gods," Iphicrates replied,again mopping his face.
"It is like a tragedy in a theatre," the boy said, catching his breathin the intensity of his excitement. "Look! Who is that?"
Across the front of the Macedonians rode a man upon a great black horsethat curvetted and tossed the foam from his bit. The rider's armorflashed through the dust and his white plumes nodded from his helmet.
"That must be Alexander himself," Iphicrates replied. "Ah, here theycome!"
Louder rose the paean as the phalanx swept forward. The space thatdivided the two armies seemed to shrink away until they almost touched.Then, as with one impulse, the sarissas of the foremost Macedonianranks dropped forward, until their points were level with the breastsof the foe, and were driven home by the impulse of the charge. Thelines of the defenders bent, swayed, and broke. Order gave place toconfusion. Here and there small parties began to run back toward thegate they had left so bravely half an hour before.
"We are beaten!" sobbed the boy on the wall.
"It is cooler up here," Iphicrates replied mechanically. A chill ranthrough his bulk as though he already felt the edge of the swords thatwere rising and falling in the hands of the victors.
The swiftest of the fugitives, throwing away their weapons, had alreadydashed panting through the gate. Others crowded behind them, and theopening quickly became choked by a mass of men who trampled each otherin their eagerness to get inside the walls. The cavalry andlight-armed troops of the Macedonians pressed close at their heels,giving them no respite from their terror.
Of the army of Halicarnassus hardly a remnant would have escaped hadnot the rain of missiles and arrows from the walls checked theMacedonian advance. As soon as the enemy was within range the orderwas given to the archers and slingers, of whom there were thousandsposted upon the ramparts. They showered stones and arrows upon thepursuing force, and the catapults sent huge darts buzzing down amongthe close-packed squadrons.
The boy beside Iphicrates was twanging away with his bow as fast as hecould fit his arrows to the cord.
"I hit one!" he cried, following the course of a shaft with his eyes."I saw him fall! He went right over backward!"
He began shooting again with renewed ardor.
Meantime a few squadrons of the bravest men in Memnon's forces ralliedand made a brief stand before the gate. They succeeded in halting theMacedonians long enough to enable their comrades to swarm through tosafety; but soon they were swept off their feet and hurled back towardthe battlements. To their dismay, they found the great gate closedagainst them. They were cut down as they ran hither and thither,seeking in vain for a place of refuge.
Iphicrates watched the butchery with horrible fascination. His facewas mottled, and the spear in his hand shook like a blade of corn.
"Cowards!" cried the boy with flashing eyes, "why did they not let themin?"
A shout of warning sounded along the crest of the wall. The Macedonianslingers and archers had turned their weapons against it, and theyswept the parapet with a deadly storm that drove the defenders toshelter. The hissing of the arrows and the humming of the balls oflead from the slings filled the air. The boy beside Iphicrates uttereda cry, threw up his arms, and fell with a red mark on his forehead.
"Mother!" he murmured, and lay still.
Iphicrates dropped to his hands and knees and crawled away, shakingwith the palsy of fear.
There was little sleep in Halicarnassus that night. Soldier andcitizen labored together, and morning found them still toiling upon thewalls, preparing for what they knew was to come. The city was in theiron grip of the siege.
By day and by night the great walls crumbled before the unremittingassaults of the enemy. The Macedonians filled in the wide ditch,raised mounds and towers, and burrowed beneath the foundations of thedefences like moles. There was no lack of provisions in the city, forMemnon's fleet came and went with nothing to oppose it, bringing cornand supplies as they were needed. It had been the hope of theinhabitants that Alexander would withdraw when he had measured thedifficulty of the task before him. They had ground for the belief thatdisturbances might be fomented in Greece that would cause him to turnhis attention to that quarter. But their plans miscarried. Antipaterheld Greece with a firm hand and the siege continued.
No man was permitted to lay aside his armor, for the Macedoniansattacked at every hour. Again and again the city was roused in thedead of night by the crash of falling battlements, and the defenderswere obliged to guard some new breach while they repaired the damage asbest they might. They made frequent sallies, attacking the formidableengines that had been constructed by the enemy. Several of them weredestroyed in this way, but they were replaced by new ones more powerfulthan their predecessors.
Orontobates sent urgent messages to his master, Darius, telling him ofthe desperate situation and begging for succor; but none came. Whatwas one city, rich and populous though it might be, to a monarch whocounted his cities by the thousand? The brave garrison was left to itsfate, fighting obstinately against its doom. The faces of the men grewhaggard with watching and anxiety. Custom and order were forgotten.Rich and poor, slave and freeman, labored side by side against theinevitable; and ever, like men swimming against the current, they feltthe resistless pressure bearing them down.
Artemisia and Thais, shut up in the house of Iphicrates, awaited theresult of the siege. The younger woman was overcome at first when shelearned that Clearchus was to be sent to Babylon, but Thais managed toconvince her that he was in no danger, and a message that was broughtto them before the siege began went far to revive her hope. One of theCyprian women came back from the market with a basket of grapes. Shesaid that a young man had followed her and asked her whether she didnot belong to Thais. She replied that she did.
"The
n tell her," the stranger said, "that Nathan the Israelite bids herhave no fear."
With that, he vanished in the crowd, and she brought the message.
They learned without much difficulty who Nathan was, and the mysteriousmessage consoled them. Artemisia spoke of it with a childlike faiththat touched Thais' heart.
"When they return, they will rejoin the army of Alexander," she said."If we could only escape to the Macedonians."
"We shall manage it in some way," Thais replied. "Leave it to me."
Phradates, whose broken wrist prevented him from taking part in thefighting, came often to visit them. He had never forgotten his glimpseof the face of Thais as it appeared in the great slave market beforethe ruined city of Thebes. His defeat that day was rendered morebitter in the recollection by the thought that she had been a witnessof it. The face had haunted him until it had become a part of hislife. After her return to Athens he had dogged her footsteps until hewas called away to join the army of the satraps.
When he saw her again before Memnon's tribunal, the fascination of herbeauty took complete possession of him. His anger against Chares wasforgotten, and he was even glad when his rival was sent to Babyloninstead of being condemned to death. He believed that the Theban wouldnever come back, and the execution of the prisoners in Halicarnassusmight have proved an insurmountable barrier between him and Thais.
Phradates knew that he had the young woman in his power, but he couldnot bring himself to make use of this advantage. He would not force atriumph; he must have a complete surrender. Day by day he hoped toobtain it. He found a half promise in her words, a suggestion oftenderness in her manner, and at times an implied appeal to hisgenerosity that made his hope almost a certainty. When he grewimpatient, the fear of losing her entirely restrained him. Thus hefell more and more completely under her domination, like a man who sipsa narcotic, yielding by little and little to its power, until his willto resist is gone, and he gives himself wholly to its subtleintoxication, unwittingly a captive.
After one of her interviews with him, Thais often threw herself down,disgusted with the part that she was forced to play. She grew angry atArtemisia's failure to understand the necessity of what she was doing.When the smile faded from her lips as the door closed upon thePh[oe]nician, she found Artemisia's eyes fixed upon her in sorrowfulreproach.
"Why do you look at me like that?" she exclaimed petulantly. "Speakout, if you must!"
Artemisia bent her head and remained silent.
"Do you think I love him?" Thais demanded scornfully, coming close toher. "Do you believe that I am false to Chares? Tell me, if you do."
"I do not," Artemisia replied hesitatingly. "Only it seems to me--"
"It seems to you that I do it too well," Thais exclaimed, completingher thought. "What would you do if you were shut up with an untamedtiger? You may give thanks to your Artemis in your innocence that Ihave been able so far to hold this one in check."
"Forgive me," Artemisia cried, embracing her. "I know you must, andyet--I am sorry for it, my sister."
Artemisia often made use of this title, never dreaming how true it was,and it always awakened a pang of tenderness in Thais' heart. Shereturned the embrace and forgave her, although she felt that Artemisiacould not really understand, try as she might.
"I wish the siege would end!" Thais said wearily. "If you knew howmuch I loathe all this, you would have more pity."
Her wish was granted at last. Even the most hopeful inhabitant of thecity understood that neither flesh nor stone could hold out much longeragainst the dogged Macedonian assault. Memnon knew that unless thebattering rams and catapults could be destroyed the city must fall.There were breaches in the massive walls and the great towers weretottering. If he could gain a little more time, reinforcements mightarrive and compel Alexander to raise the siege. Mustering his bestremaining troops, he poured them out of the Triple Gate and through thegaps in the wall upon the works of the enemy. The attack was repulsedwithout accomplishing its object; and when the garrison sought toregain the defences, scores were slain at the wall and hundreds more inthe moat, where they were precipitated by the breaking of the bridgeleading to the gate.
It was plain that the end was at hand. The Rhodian felt that the citywas at the mercy of the young king, and he hastened to take advantageof the respite that Alexander's forbearance allowed him. At midnightafter this last defeat the evacuation began. The troops were withdrawnto the Royal Citadel and to the Salmacis, where they could still remainin touch with their ships. The greater part of the population fled tothe harbor and sought escape in the merchant vessels which were puttingto sea. Azemilcus, king of Tyre, who had been acting with the fleet,made ready a trireme in which to send home the wounded among theTyrians. He placed it under the command of Phradates.
Thais learned from the slave women that the young Ph[oe]nician wasmaking ready to depart in haste.
"If we are to escape, we must do it now," she said hurriedly toArtemisia. "He will try to take us with him."
"Can we not refuse to go?" Artemisia replied.
"No," Thais responded. "To refuse him would be to open his eyes, andhe would certainly take us by force. Flight is our only hope."
She gathered her jewels into a packet and placed it in her bosom. Shethen ordered the women to muffle them in long cloaks that concealedtheir faces.
"Go down and find out who is there," she said.
One of the women brought word that Phradates had gone to the harbor tosee that all was in readiness, and that Mena was also absent. Thaisled the way boldly down the stairs and out of the house, followed byArtemisia and the two women. The slaves who were at work below staredat them, but in the absence of their master none ventured to stop them.They gained the street in safety, and were immediately swept away inthe clamoring, terror-stricken streams of fugitives who were pouringtoward the harbor. A lofty tower that had been built beside the TripleGate was on fire. The flames roared up the sides of the structure,bursting from its windows and loopholes, and converting it into agigantic torch. They spread quickly to the houses nearest the walls,sending volumes of reddened smoke rolling over the harbor. The howlingof dogs mingled with the shouts of men and the wailing of women whoclasped their children to their breasts.
Iphicrates left the walls with his comrades in arms and plunged intothe crowded streets. He had intended to seek his own house in the hopeof finding some remains of his hoard untouched; but the panic seizedhim, and he changed his direction. He determined to gain the RoyalCitadel, which he knew was to be defended against the Macedonians.Thinking only of his own safety, he forced his way through the press,pushing women and children aside in his haste. Blinded by the terrorthat possessed him, he took no heed of a small, dark-skinned man withsharp features who reeled back from the thrust of his elbow. Even ifhe had noticed that the figure fell in behind him, following hisfootsteps like a shadow, he would have taken him only for one of thefugitives.
Steeped in the contagion of fear, the money-lender hardly noticed wherehe went. He soon became exhausted by his struggle with the crowd, andhe heaved a sigh of relief when he found himself at last in a streetthat was comparatively deserted. He overlooked the fact that the fewpersons whom he met were hurrying the other way, and it was not untilhe was brought to a halt by a blank wall that he recognized hissurroundings. He had entered a road from which there was no outlet.
He halted in dismay. The shadow behind him glided into a doorway andcrouched out of sight. The street was hemmed in by tall buildings thathad been emptied of their tenants, and the light of the burning towerflickered redly upon the upper walls, increasing the gloom below. Asense of loneliness and desertion smote him. He felt himself suddenlycut off from human companionship. His heart beat thickly and heavily.He seemed to be strangling under the oppression of a nameless anddeadly horror.
He turned and rushed back in the direction whence he had come. As hepassed the doorway within which the shadow had di
sappeared, a lightform bounded out upon him. There was a flash of steel; a lean arm wasthrust forward and seemed to touch him lightly on the back beneath hisshoulder. He fell upon his face with a choking cry; the shadow leapedover him, fled, and vanished, leaving him motionless where he lay.
Thais and Artemisia were borne forward in the crowd without power tochoose the direction of their flight. In the frantic masses ofhumanity, all fighting toward the harbor, they saw women and childrentrampled underfoot; and they clung to each other in desperation,knowing that if they fell, they would never be able to rise. Themaddened crowd swept them on to the wharves, where the agitated watersof the harbor spread before them like a lake of blood in the glare ofthe conflagration.
Utterly bewildered and unable to extricate themselves, the young womenwere drawn hither and thither by the eddies of the mob as it rushedfeverishly from one vessel to another, seeking means of escape.Suddenly they found themselves wedged in before a double line ofsoldiers drawn up before the gangway of a trireme, the sides of whichloomed dark above their heads. Torches shed a smoky light upon theagonized faces of the throng, held at bay by the spears of the guard.Warning shouts rose from the darkness, followed by a swaying motion ofthe crowd which divided before the rush of a compact body of men makingtoward the vessel. Thais and Artemisia felt themselves crushed forwardagainst the living barrier until they could hardly breathe. They heardthe shouting and cursing of the soldiers advancing from the rear intothe circle of torchlight. The pressure became unbearable. They hadgiven themselves up for lost, when, before they knew what was takingplace, they were seized and borne upward. Thais recovered her sensesto find herself seated upon the deck of the trireme, with Artemisia'shead in her lap.
"Why did you run away?" asked a familiar voice reproachfully.
She looked up and saw Phradates standing before her. "It is fate!"flashed through her mind.
"We thought you had deserted us, and we were frightened," she replied.
"I searched everywhere for you," he said. "Astarte must have guidedyou here."
He turned and commanded the sailors to cast off. The great vesselswung slowly from the wharf, leaving behind the mass of unhappyfugitives, some of whom cursed her, while others stretched out theirarms toward her, praying to the last to be taken on board. Artemisiawas revived by the cooler air of the harbor.
"Where are we?" she asked faintly, opening her blue eyes.
"We are on the Ph[oe]nician trireme, bound, I suppose, for Tyre," Thaisanswered bitterly. "No, it was not my doing," she continued, replyingto her sister's glance of surprise and question. "I had no more partin it than you this time. It is the will of the Gods."
The trireme pointed her brazen beak toward the entrance of the harbor.The banks of oars which fringed her sides in three rows, one above theother, like the legs of some gigantic water insect, caught the waves,and the panic-stricken city began to glide away from her stern. Afishing boat, laden with fugitives, drifted across her path. The sharpprow struck the side of the hapless little craft and cut through itlike a knife. For a brief moment the screams of women and childrenrose out of the darkness, and then the voices were stifled.
Artemisia hid her face on Thais' shoulder and wept; but Thais, gazingback on the fiery city, saw the great tower reel and fall, clothed inflame from base to summit. The roar of turmoil and terror sounded inher ears, and she smiled. The red light danced in her eyes, makingthem gleam like opals as she turned them upon Phradates.
"They say thy city hath strong walls, Ph[oe]nician," she said. "Thouwilt have to build them still stronger, I think."
"They are strong," Phradates answered proudly; "but we shall not needthem, for between us and Alexander stand a million men, ready to laydown their lives for their king."
Thais raised her white arm and extended it toward the stricken city.
"What shall withstand the Whirlwind?" she said.
In the stern of the trireme sat Mena, gazing thoughtfully back at thecity and wiping the stains from the blade of his dagger.