CHAPTER XXXIV
IN THE PAVILION OF THE QUEENS
On the night after the battle, rough soldiers of the phalanx slept ingarments of fine wool wrought with gold, clasping in their handsnecklaces of jewels in which the glow of the camp-fires danced andflashed. Chares had decked himself in a long cloak of scarlet, uponwhich strange patterns were worked in silver. A collar of emeraldsencircled his arm, and bracelets of gold gleamed upon his wrists.
"These are for Thais," he said proudly, opening a strip of linen anddisplaying to Clearchus a collection of gems that sparkled with varyinghues.
"You are a barbarian at heart," the Athenian said. "Come, let us jointhe king. Leonidas waits for us."
Alexander sat upon his foam-streaked horse in the golden glow of thesunset. He had removed his white-plumed helmet, and the cool airbathed his temples. There was a new flash of pride in his eyes as hegazed upon the field of his triumph. The last orders had been given,the wounded had been cared for, and Parmenio had been despatched toDamascus, with a swift body of horse, to take possession of the Persianstores and treasure before they could be removed.
"Now let Demosthenes put on mourning!" Alexander exclaimed. "Come, letus see what provision Darius has made for us."
Followed by his Table Companions, he led the way toward the greatpavilion, which none had dared to enter before him. At the entrancestood the chariot from which the Great King had looked upon the wreckof his hopes.
"Here is the royal mantle," Alexander remarked, spreading out thepurple robe, stiff with gold. He tossed it back into the chariot,which he ordered to be removed.
Like a troop of boys, the Macedonians entered the great pavilion.Light from a hundred lamps filled the tent. Rich carpets had beenspread upon the ground, and embroidered hangings divided the interiorinto a succession of rooms destined for the use of the Great King.From one to another Alexander led the way, making no attempt to concealhis wonder at the evidences of luxury that he there encountered for thefirst time.
In the first apartment, they found a wardrobe consisting of suits ofarmor inlaid with gold and silver; garments of silk and linen; helmets,shoes, parasols, mirrors, and a litter of utensils the uses of whichwere unknown to the Companions.
"I wonder what my old governor, Leonidas, would say to this?" Alexandercried. "He would never allow me clothing enough to keep me warm inwinter."
Next they entered the treasure-chamber, filled with chests of cedar,bound with iron and brass. Several of these chests had been forcedopen, apparently by faithless slaves; but the rapidity of theMacedonian victory had not allowed them to carry away more than a verysmall part of the treasure. The boxes contained golden coins bearingthe stamp of Darius, and evidently fresh from the mint.
"Here is balm for the wounded," Alexander said, lifting a handful ofthe coins and permitting them to fall back in a glittering stream.
Beyond this, they found the bed upon which Darius was to have reposedfrom the fatigues of the day. It was a mass of down, covered with silkand linen of the finest texture, and hung with silken curtains, fringedwith gold. Adjoining the bedchamber was the scented bath in anenormous vessel of solid gold. Near it stood rows of crystal vases andjars of Ph[oe]nician glass, containing unguents and rare perfumes,compounded of priceless ingredients after formulae known only to thebody-servants of the Persian kings.
"This is what gave us the battle," Alexander said, pointing to theenervating array.
He pushed aside the last curtain and stood in the banquet room. Alongits sides tables had been spread, flanked by rich couches and coveredwith dishes of massive gold and silver. At one side of the room was acanopied couch, higher and more magnificent than the others. Thetables had been prepared before the flight of the attendants. Royalwine sparkled in goblets of crystal and beakers of gold. Hephaestionfound the kitchen and reported that all the materials for the feastwere in readiness.
"Let our cooks take charge of them," Alexander said. "I bid you all tosup with me here to-night."
This idea was received with eager applause and in an hour thepreparations had been made. The Macedonians, wearing garlands of oakleaves, stretched themselves upon the gorgeous couches and partook ofthe strange dishes that were set before them by the pages. Gobletswere filled and emptied and beakers were drained. Each man began torelate the deeds of valor he had performed on the battle-field,explaining in great detail how, but for him, the day would have beenlost. Alexander alone, who had led them to victory, had nothing to sayof himself, though he talked with Ptolemy, son of Lagus, Perdiccas, andPhilotas of the mistakes that Darius had made.
Aching muscles and smarting wounds were forgotten under the influenceof the wine and in the vainglorious rehearsal of the battle. TheMacedonians began to feel that the world lay at their feet, and theirminds were uplifted by dreams of endless conquest. The pavilion rangwith laughter and was filled with the babel of tongues.
Suddenly, amid the jesting, the voices of women raised in lamentationpenetrated the tent. The merriment was hushed, and every head wasturned toward the sounds. Alexander despatched a page to learn thecause and the lad breathlessly brought word that Sisygambis, the GreatKing's mother, and Statira, his wife, were bewailing his death.
"Come, Hephaestion," Alexander said gravely, rising from the royalcouch. "Let us reassure them."
Looks of intelligence and furtive smiles were exchanged as the twoyoung men left the pavilion; but none dared venture upon open comment.From the beginning of war, the women of the vanquished had been countedas part of the victor's spoil.
Following the direction of the sorrowful sounds, Alexander discovered asmaller pavilion in the rear of the first. At its doorway stood a darkand stalwart figure, erect and motionless as a statue.
Upon the approach of the young king, the silent guardian fell with hisface to the earth and remained motionless.
"Who art thou?" Alexander asked, looking down upon him.
"I am Tireus," the man replied. "I guard the women."
"Why didst thou not save thyself when thy master fled?" the young kinginquired.
"Because the women could not flee," Tireus replied simply.
Alexander reflected for a moment. "Rise!" he said at last. "Had thymaster possessed more servants like thee, he would not have lost hisempire. Thou art chief eunuch. Keep thy charge, and if any molestthee, make thy complaint to me. Go now and ask if Alexander may beadmitted."
Tireus had risen, but instead of obeying, he fell again upon his knees,stretching his hands toward Alexander in supplication that he dared notput into words.
"Go," Alexander said, understanding his meaning. "They have nothing tofear."
Tireus went, returning in a moment to draw aside the curtain so thatthe young king might enter. The wailing had ceased.
Alexander and Hephaestion found themselves under a silken canopy ofcrimson. The floor of the pavilion was covered with thick carpets,woven in bright colors and laid one upon another. Silver lampssuspended from above diffused a soft light.
Huddled together in the middle of the tent upon heaps of cushions lay acrowd of women in attitudes of despair. Their white arms and shouldersgleamed through their dishevelled hair. Their eyes were heavy withweeping. They seemed like a flock of doves that had been caught in asnare and were awaiting with palpitating breasts the coming of thefowler.
A woman of mature years rose from the group and threw herself at thefeet of Hephaestion, mistaking him for the king, because he was tallerthan Alexander and still wore his armor. She was Sisygambis, the queenmother.
"Mercy!" she cried, with streaming eyes. "Thou hast slain my son.Have pity upon his mother and his innocent wife."
"I am not the king!" Hephaestion exclaimed, hastily stepping back.
"I am blinded by my sorrow!" Sisygambis replied, turning to Alexanderin confusion. "Pardon me, I pray thee, in the name of thy own mother,Olympias!"
Alexander stooped and raised her gently by the hand.
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bsp; "Thy son lives," he said. "Be not alarmed that you mistook my friendfor me, for Hephaestion is also an Alexander."
Sisygambis looked earnestly into the boyish face before her.
"Is Darius still alive?" she asked beseechingly. "Is it true? I amhis mother. Do not deceive me!"
"He is alive and he is free," the young king replied. "He escaped intoSyria."
With a cry of joy, Statira rose from among her women, clasping in herhand the chubby fist of her child. The heavy masses of her dark hairframed a face of pure oval. The color flooded her cheeks, and her eyesshone in fathomless depths of mystery and life. As his glance methers, Alexander was conscious of a thrill such as he had never feltbefore. His pulses were disturbed, and he felt his face flush. Withan effort he mastered the unaccustomed emotion.
"Alexander does not make war upon women," he said quietly. "For yourown sakes, I must carry you with me; but you are as safe as though youwere still in your palace in Babylon. Your household shall remain withyou. Command as freely as you did yesterday, and fear nothing."
"How shall we repay you?" Statira exclaimed, attempting to kneel at hisfeet.
"By ceasing to grieve," he replied. "Remember that you are still aqueen."
The infant son of Darius looked at him with round eyes of wonder.Alexander took the child in his arms and kissed him.
"Come, Hephaestion," he said, turning to go. The Macedonian, whose gazehad been fixed upon Statira with an intensity that rendered himoblivious to everything else, roused himself and followed. As theypassed from the pavilion, they heard a murmur of women's voices insilvery notes of astonishment and admiration.
Alexander was silent and thoughtful when he resumed his place at thehead of the banquet table. The Companions were impatient to learn thedetails of his visit.
"Is the queen as beautiful as they say?" Perdiccas ventured at last.
The young king frowned slightly, and the hand in which he held hisgoblet trembled.
"Whoever in future speaks to me of the beauty of Statira, wife ofDarius," he said, "that man is no longer my friend. Let it be known tothe army that she is to be treated with all the respect due to a queen.He who forgets shall be punished."
He glanced at Hephaestion, who flushed and looked another way. For amoment there was silence in the tent, and then the laughter and talkflowed on as though nothing had occurred to interrupt them.