CHAPTER XXIV
THE GORDIAN KNOT
Alexander kept the anniversary of his departure from Macedon in thecity of Gordium, surrounded by his army, on the wind-swept uplands ofPhrygia. He reached the place through the drifted snows that blockedthe passes of the Taurus and the rugged hills of Pisidia, subduing onhis way the tribes that had held them for ages, to whom the Great Kinghimself had deemed it wise to render tribute in exchange for peace.
Looking backward, the young leader of men saw the AEgean coast and allthe territory west of the mountains subject to his rule. To the richand prosperous Grecian cities by the sea he had restored their ancientrights, and the hostages of the barbarians thronged his camp. He hadmade a beginning, and his heart had confidence in the end.
Parmenio came from Sardis, bringing the troops that had wintered there,with the siege train and abundance of supplies. Alexander resolved torest until the roads should be settled so that he might strike anotherblow. In games and feasting and martial exercises his army passed thebreathing space permitted before the onslaught. The camp was filledwith jests devised by the detachments that under Alexander hadconquered stubborn Salagassus, at the expense of the men who had beenidling in Sardis and who were accused of having grown white-faced andsoft in their luxury. Parmenio's men, in turn, took their revenge inquips levelled at the young married men, who had been allowed to go totheir homes across the Hellespont and who now returned, bringing thelatest news and gossip of Pella and squadrons of eager recruits.
Leonidas had risen high in the favor of the young king, who had seenhis courage tested in the winter campaign. He had become one of theTable Companions, with command of a squadron of cavalry, and even theproud young Macedonian nobles, jealous of intrusion, had ceased to lookdown upon him as an outsider and had taken him into their circle. Ofall the stories told in the camp, none was more often repeated thanthat which related how the Spartan had held the light-armed troops whenthey were taken in ambush by the fierce mountaineers before Salagassus,until Alexander could lead the phalanx to their rescue.
But Leonidas showed no elation. On the contrary, he seemed more grimand taciturn than ever. Gladly would he have given both favor andcommand if he could have seen Clearchus and Chares ride into campunharmed. Since they started for Halicarnassus, he had heard nothingof them, and it was the general opinion in the army that they werelost. The Spartan had few friends and none to take the place of thesetwo. His grief for them was the deeper because he would not show it.Though it gnawed at his heart like the stolen fox, he gave no sign.One night, at table, the jest turned upon Amyntas, who had purchasedgilded armor.
"You are as vain as Chares the Theban," one of the Thessalian officerssaid to him, laughing.
Leonidas sought the man out next day. "You have insulted my friend,who is not here. I think you are sorry for it," he said quietly.
The young captain laughed, looking down upon the Spartan from his sixfeet of stature.
"You think too much," he replied contemptuously.
With a bound, Leonidas caught him by the throat in a grip that was likethat of a bulldog's jaws. In vain the Thessalian sought to break hishold. His face grew black and his tongue protruded.
"I think you are sorry," Leonidas repeated coolly.
The other, feeling his senses leaving him, made an affirmative motion,and the hands that gripped his throat relaxed.
"Thou shouldst speak no ill of those who cannot answer," the Spartansaid, turning away and leaving the young man to recover his breath.
When this incident reached the ears of Alexander, as everything thathappened in the camp was sure to do, the king smiled.
"I suppose you would serve me in the same fashion if I should beunfortunate enough to make such a jest," he said.
"The king does not mock brave men," Leonidas replied.
Alexander laid his hand on the Spartan's shoulder. "I am Alexander,"he said, "but I envy Chares and Clearchus. I wish I had such a friendas they have."
"Thou hast many," the Spartan replied. "Wrong them not; but thou hastsmall need of mortal friends since the Gods are with thee."
"That is true," Alexander said simply. He knew that nine-tenths of thearmy believed indeed that the Gods had taken him under theirprotection. He seemed to them, in fact, to be himself almost like oneof the immortals in the beauty of his face and form, his perfectcourage, and his unerring judgment. While the graybeards at home, thephilosophers and statesmen, were predicting failure for him anddemonstrating by precedent and logic that his success was impossible,he had succeeded. Already he had wrested from the Great King thecolonies of Greece that for centuries had groaned under Persianoppression, and while he had not yet stood face to face with the mightypower that he had attacked, he had confounded the prophets of evil andproved their wisdom to be no better than folly. When his captainslooked into his face, ruddy with youth and strength, his smooth brow,unmarked by a line of care, and felt the charm of his glance,remembering what he had done, it was impossible for them to think thathe was only a man like themselves.
So when it became known, after the preparations for the southward marchin search of the Great King had been completed, that Alexander haddetermined to attempt the loosening of the knot that King Gordius hadbound, there were few of his followers who doubted that he wouldaccomplish it. For ages this knot had defied all attempts to guess itssecret. The farmer, Gordius, driving his oxen into the city, foundhimself suddenly raised to the throne. Tradition told how he had tiedthe neap of his cart to the porphyry shaft in the midst of the templeand how it had been declared that whoso should unbind it should becomelord of all Asia. In the reign of King Midas, his son, friend of thegreat God Dionysus, whose touch had changed the sands of the Pactolusto gold, many had essayed the task and had failed. In subsequent yearsa long line of ambitious princes and scheming kings had made theattempt, seeking to propitiate the God with rich gifts, but none hadsucceeded. More lately, few had tried the knot, for the Great Kingwatched the shrine, and those who were bold enough to tempt Fortunethere soon found themselves summoned to his court, where they weretaught how unwise it was for the weak to aspire to the dominions of thestrong.
It was knowledge of all this that led the soldiers to regardAlexander's trial of the knot as no less important than a great battle.If the knot should yield to him, there would no longer be any doubt ofwhat the Gods intended.
Parmenio, with the caution born of age, shook his head when the kingtold him of his project.
"What will you gain?" he asked. "The army already has completeconfidence in you, and if you fail, some of it will be lost."
"Dost thou believe we shall conquer Darius?" Alexander demanded.
"With the aid of the Gods, I think we shall," Parmenio replied.
"And dost thou not believe in the prophecy regarding the knot?"Alexander asked again.
Parmenio hesitated and looked confused. "It is very old," he said atlast, "and we know not whence it came."
"Thy faith is weak," the young leader said severely. "Fear not; thecord shall be loosed."
Before the ancient temple the army was drawn up in long lines, archersand slingers, spearmen and cavalry, find the phalanx in companies andsquadrons. Alexander, mounted on Bucephalus, rode slowly along theranks, splendid in his armor, with the double plume of white brushinghis shoulders on either side. He halted before the temple, where therobed priests stood ready to receive him. Every eye was upon him as heleaped to the ground and turned his face to the army.
"I go to test the prophecy, whether it be true or false," he cried, ina clear voice. "Wait thou my return."
Followed by his generals and by Aristander, the soothsayer, he enteredthe portals of the temple after the priests. They led him to the spotwhere the cart was fastened to the pillar. Its rude constructionindicated its great age. Its wheels were sections of a tree trunk cutacross. Its body was carved with strange figures of forgotten Gods andmonsters, colored with pigment that time had dimme
d. Its long neap wastied at the end to the shaft of stone with strips of cornel bark, brownand stiff with age and intertwined in curious folds that left no endsvisible.
Alexander looked to the chief priest. "What is the prophecy?" hedemanded.
The old man unrolled a parchment written over with dim characters, andread.
"To that man who shall loose the knot bound by King Gordius underdirection of the high Gods," he quavered, "shall be given the realm ofAsia from the southern ocean to the seas of the North. Once only maythe trial be made. Thus saith the God."
Outside the temple the soldiers stood silent in their ranks awaitingthe result. As the aged priest ceased reading and rolled up theparchment, Alexander drew closer to the magic knot and examined it,while the others fell back in a wide circle. Between the priests therepassed a covert glance of understanding as though they said to eachother, "Here is another who will fail, and more gifts will come!" Theyoung king saw that no man could ever disentangle the convolutions ofthe fastening without tearing the bark. Avoiding even a pretence ofattempting the impossible, he drew his sword. The astonished priestsstarted forward with a cry of protest, but before they could interfere,the flashing blade fell and the neap of the ancient cart clattered tothe stone floor.
"The knot is loosed," Alexander said quietly, sheathing his sword.
"The God greets thee, Lord of Asia!" the chief priest declared in asolemn tone, bowing his head.
Rushing out of the temple, the generals repeated Alexander's words tothe army.
"The knot is loosed! The knot is loosed! We shall conquer!" ran thejoyful cry through all the ranks, and the young king, listening withinthe temple, knew that the hour for decisive action was at hand.