CHAPTER XXXIII
THE CHESTNUT MARE
The phalanx swept into the shallow bed of the river. The Greekmercenaries who confronted it on the western bank, nerved by the hopeof gaining the immense reward promised by the Great King, and knowingthat his eyes were upon them, met its shock with courage. Clearchusheard the fierce shouts with which they closed and saw the line of thephalanx bend and sway as it pressed upward to gain a foothold.
"Hot work," cried Chares, who was galloping beside him. "By Zeus, theking leads!"
Alexander, surrounded by young men whose hearts were as high as hisown, struck the left of the stubborn mercenary line where the curve inthe river half exposed its flank. The Agema split its way in betweenthe files, tearing asunder everything before it.
"Follow the Whirlwind!" shouted Clearchus; but his voice was lost inthe wild cry of the charge.
Clearchus was conscious of being carried swiftly forward withoutguidance or volition of his own. The water of the Pinarus splashed inhis face. A blaze of color spread confusedly before his eyes where thePersians stood awaiting the charge on the terrace above. An arrowstruck his breast and rebounded from his armor. Javelins fell allaround him.
"Now!" he heard the voice of Chares shouting. "Now for it!" and hishorse began scrambling up the bank with the others.
On his right and left the Companions rushed upward like a torrent. Hegrasped his lance more firmly, but he had no occasion to use it. ThePersians gave way, crumpling back upon each other in a disordered mob.Behind them in vain their captains plied the terrible knotted whipswith which they sought to hold the men to their work.
Showers of darts and arrows continued to fall from the rear, strikingfriend and foe without distinction, but the Persian troops who weredirectly exposed to the Macedonian attack huddled together like sheep.They were prevented from fleeing only by the fact that they were hemmedin by the dense ranks of their own host. Through them the Companionsraged at will, clearing a space into which the archers and slingerspressed with shouts of triumph.
Above the turmoil the Macedonian trumpets rang out high and clear, and,in obedience to their command, the Companions swerved to the left,leaving the light-armed troops to hold what they had gained. Clearchussaw that their charge had torn away the support from the left of theGreek mercenary cohorts, leaving them wholly unprotected. He caughtsight of the Agema and the other hypaspists, struggling hand to handwith the mercenaries, and beyond them the phalanx, which he wassurprised to find had not yet succeeded in gaining a lodgement on thewest bank of the river.
"There's something worth fighting," Chares cried to Nathan, waving hislance at the mercenaries. "They are Greeks," he added proudly. "Comeon, and we will show you what a real battle is like."
The Companions had partially regained the order which they had lost inthe charge. They now faced the mercenary flank at right angles to thefront of both armies. Again the trumpet notes launched them forward.Again the wild cheer arose, ending in a grinding shock. The momentumof the charge carried the Companions far into the exposed flank of themercenaries; but this time no panic and no yielding followed. Althoughhard pressed in front by the furious and unremitting onslaught of theAgema and the hypaspists, where Clearchus again caught the gleam ofAlexander's floating plumes, the hirelings stood their ground untildeath overcame them. Facing half about, they met as well as they couldthe attack of the Companions to which the cowardice of their allies hadlaid them open. But not even their courage could save them,unsupported and without generalship as they were, from the impetuousdetermination of Alexander.
Into the living wall the Macedonians hewed their way, foot by foot.Alexander raged like a tiger, knowing that here the battle was to belost or won. The phalanx was all but broken. Away on the beach theThessalians had been borne back by the impenetrable masses of thePersian cavalry and were holding the enemy in check only by a series ofdesperate and reckless charges. At that moment Darius was triumphanteverywhere excepting at the bloody curve in the river where Alexanderled in person.
It seemed to Clearchus that for hours they were locked in thatdesperate struggle without being able to advance. His lance was brokenand the hand in which he held his sword was numb. Beside him he sawthe broad shoulders of Chares heave and fall as he delivered his blows.The lust of battle seemed to flame in the Theban's veins like a fever.Again and again the mercenaries leaped upon him to pull him down. Hissword was everywhere.
"He is mad!" thought Clearchus, and so indeed he seemed.
Nathan fought beside him, cool and wary, parrying and thrusting withsinews of steel. His eyes glowed with excitement held in check, and aflush tinged the sunburned olive of his cheek.
Little by little, the Companions worked their way toward thehypaspists, until at last the cavalry and the foot fought side by side,with Alexander at their head. So fierce was the conflict that fleshand blood could not long sustain it. The flank attack finally threwthe left of the mercenaries into confusion, which gradually extendeduntil the ranks that opposed the phalanx began to waver. A mightyquiver ran through the hireling force. Its resistance weakened and itgave ground.
With a wild shout the phalanx rushed up the river bank. The mercenarylines were hurled backward. The wall was broken.
Among the swirling eddies of men and plunging horses, Clearchus foundhimself close to Alexander. He saw the young king, sword in hand, hisarmor dimmed with dust and blood, pause for a moment with heavingbreast to note the final charge of the phalanx. As soon as he saw thestraightened lines and caught sight of the sarissas rising above theriver bank, followed by the grim faces of his veterans, he turned anddirected his gaze in the opposite direction, toward Darius.
The Great King had not shifted his ground since the beginning of thebattle. He still stood, erect and proud, in the golden chariot withits four white steeds, whose jewelled bridles were held by slaves. Hislong robe, in folds of lustrous purple, floated from his shoulders. Inhis hand he held an idle bow, inlaid with pearl. He looked unmovedupon the slaughter that was going on before his eyes, but when themercenary line gave way, he turned to his brother Oxathres.
"Is that the courage of which these Greeks boast so much?" he asked.
Oxathres shrugged his shoulders.
"They are dogs," he replied. "Wait until the Macedonian has spent hisstrength upon them, and we will show him what it is to meet Persiansteel. Look yonder, O king!"
He waved his hand toward the sea beach, where the Persian cavalry hadpushed Parmenio and the Thessalians back from the river's mouth.
"So will we do to them here," he said contemptuously.
A cupbearer brought Darius a goblet, gleaming with precious stones andfilled with the wine that only the royal lips might taste. The GreatKing drank it deliberately and turned again to the battle.
"What is that handful of horsemen there on the left?" he asked.
"They are called the Companion cavalry," Oxathres answered. "They aresaid to be brave men."
"Who is leading them?" Darius asked again.
"Alexander, who wears the white plumes," his brother replied. "He ismounting. They are about to charge."
"Will he dare to attack us here?" Darius queried anxiously.
"Grant, O Beltis, that he may!" Oxathres said fervently. "Then weshall have him at our mercy."
"What shall I do with him when he has been captured?" Darius asked.
"O king, may you live forever!" Oxathres exclaimed. "Many have fallenthis day. Crucify him beside his fellow-robbers on the shore as awarning to all the world."
"Could I so treat a king?" Darius asked doubtfully.
"Thou couldst treat him so, for he is no true king," Oxathres urged."Thou knowest the stories of his birth."
"So then shall it be," Darius said. "Give the necessary orders."
At that moment the steward of the king's household forced his waythrough the nobles and prostrated himself, kissing the dust before thechariot.
"Speak," D
arius commanded.
"O king of kings!" the man said, "Sisygambis, thy mother, and the QueenStatira sent me to know if thou wert safe, and to ask when thou wiltreturn to them."
"Tell them to have no fear," Darius said confidently. "Let them makeready to attend the banquet in my pavilion at the going down of thesun."
Darius glanced again at the Companions, who were forming for the chargeunder cover of the advancing phalanx, and let his eyes sweep slowlyover his own forces. Around him stood princes and governors ofprovinces, satraps, viceroys, and generals. His personal guard of tenthousand horse was drawn up on either side, while in front of him, sodisposed as not to obstruct his view of the battle, were ranged theImmortals, ten thousand of the bravest soldiers of his empire.
In an open space behind his chariot stood a group of white-robedpriests around a massive altar of silver from which rose the pale blueperfumed smoke of the eternal fire. Mithra, Darius believed, wouldnever forsake his votaries or permit his fire to be extinguished.
"They are coming," the Great King said tranquilly, having completed hisinspection. "Look, Oxathres, Baal has stricken them with madness!"
He leaned forward in his chariot, fixing his eyes upon the white plumesthat his brother had said distinguished his rival. Between him and theMacedonians stood a solid barrier of men, every one of whom was readyto die if by so doing he could save his master so much as a scratch.
"If they will persist in their folly," Oxathres said, "let them come."
The Companions tore their way through the remnant of the mercenaryline. Onward they came, trampling and scattering a squadron of Scythsas if their weapons had been the toys of children. They reached theImmortals. Darius drew a breath of relief. There they must stop atlast.
But no! The white plumes still advanced, and behind them came awidening stream of horses and men. It seemed as though nothing couldstand against them. The Immortals were scattered like chaff from athreshing-floor.
Oxathres changed color. He turned and spoke to his trumpeter. Thebrazen note that followed warned the nobles to make ready for a charge.The heart of many a silk-robed courtier who had been boasting all dayof the deeds he would do when his chance came grew sick at the sound.The time had come.
Darius hastily dismounted from his heavy chariot, leaving his mantlebehind him, and took his place in another chariot, drawn by two horsesonly and more easily manageable. At a sign from Oxathres, a groomadvanced, leading a beautiful chestnut mare, who tossed her head withdistended nostrils, neighing for her foal, which had purposely beenleft behind beyond the Amanic Gates in Syria. The groom took his placein silence beside the chariot.
"Shall I lead the charge?" Darius asked.
"Thy servants beg of thee not to deprive them of the glory that awaitsthem," Oxathres replied.
Darius waved his hand in assent. Already the nobles in the outercircle of the royal guard were struggling for their lives with theCompanions. The charge had been delayed too long and there was no timenow to make it. Nothing was left but defence.
Darius saw the white plume tossing like a fleck of foam on the crest ofan advancing wave. He fitted an arrow to his bow and drew it to thehead. The loosened shaft struck the satrap Arsames and passed throughhis body.
Princes and nobles fought breast to breast with the sons of Macedonianherdsmen. There was no longer question of rank or power, of birth orriches, but only of who had the braver heart and the stronger arm. Theeminence on which the Great King had posted himself to witness thepunishment of the invaders at his leisure was clothed in slaughter.His favorites were rolling in the dust under the feet of their maddenedhorses. For the first time in his life, the monarch looked in the faceof peril, and his spirit quailed before the test.
Out of the struggle Oxathres came galloping, breathless and with bloodupon his armor.
"Save thyself, brother!" he cried, forgetting the royal titles in hishaste. "The battle is lost! Mount and fly while there is yet time!"
Darius sprang from his chariot and threw himself upon the back of thechestnut mare, whose silken flanks trembled with excitement. A boundand she was beside the smoking altar, from which the priests hadalready fled. In her ears rang the anxious call of her foal, and thebrute instinct of her mother-love saved that day the King of Kings, whowas leaving his own wife and children and the queen his mother to themercy of his enemies.
Straight as an arrow, leaping every obstacle that came in her way, themare darted through the confused squadrons of the reserves toward theAmanic Gates. Behind her thundered prince and satrap, each intent uponsaving himself at whatever cost.
"The king flees! The king flees!" The cry rose in a hundred tonguesthroughout the Persian host. The tens of thousands of troops who hadnot been called upon to strike a blow because there had been no roomfor them in the fighting line melted away as if by magic. The plainwas filled with men streaming toward the mountains or the sea, seekingsome place of refuge. Here a body of Scyths, clad in shuggy skins,retreated sullenly; there a band of dark-skinned Libyans ran like aherd of frightened cattle, casting away their clubs and stone-tippedspears; Arabs, Egyptians, Indians, Assyrians, fled in panic, each manseeking to place his neighbor behind him. Collisions were frequent,and more than one unfortunate was hacked down because he stood in theway of some savage comrade in arms.
The men who were actually engaged in fighting did not at first perceivethat they were being left to their fate. As soon as they discoveredthe desertion of the reserves, many of them threw down their weaponsand sued for mercy. A portion of the Greek mercenaries alonemaintained a semblance of discipline, though broken into severalbodies. They fell back, still facing their enemies, toward theseashore, in search of ships to carry them away.
To the Persian cavalry, that had borne back Parmenio, the news ofdefeat came last of all. They alone still held an advantage, and itwas bitter for them to be forced to abandon it. But without supportthey were powerless. The phalanx wheeled in upon them, threatening todrive them into the sea. Finally they too relinquished hope and joinedthe rout.
Then through all the plain and up the mountain slopes rode squadrons ofMacedonian horse, cutting down the fugitives. The Thessalians theretook merciless revenge for their losses. The earth was encumbered withcorpses.
When the trumpets at nightfall recalled the scattered and weary bandsof executioners, nothing of the vast army of Darius remained on theplain excepting the spoil and the dead, over whom the jackals snarledand howled. And down the Syrian slope of the pass, bathed in sweat,galloped the fleet-limbed chestnut mare, with Darius upon her back.