CHAPTER XLVII
SYPHAX SQUARES HIS ACCOUNT
King Azemilcus stood at a window of his chamber, with the agedchancellor at his side, looking out across the parapet of the wall.They were alone in the room, for the king had ordered his guard toawait his commands in an outer apartment. The window opened directlyupon the top of the wall, to which the royal palace was joined. Oftenduring his long reign had the old king stood there, revolving hisschemes in his cunning brain, while the salt breeze cooled his temples.
Beneath his feet the stones trembled with the shock of the greatbattering rams that were enlarging the breach in the wall west of thepalace. In his ears sounded the tumult of the attack upon the twoharbors, where the Macedonian triremes were seeking to break thebarriers of chains. He saw the Tyrian soldiers upon the battlements,fighting against hope, with the valor of desperation.
The roar of falling masonry told him that the rams had done their work.The breach had become a wide gap, extending beyond the ends of theinner wall that had been built to block the assault. The vessels lyingin wait drew nearer. Flights of arrows and volleys of stones, greatand small, swept the defences. Troop-ships, provided with drawbridgesat their prows, closed in at the breach. The bridges fell, and streamsof men in armor began to flow across them. They gained the breach andheld it. They scaled the slope of fallen blocks and reached the top ofthe wall. The Tyrians were forced backward or hurled into the sea.
"That must be Alexander," the king remarked, noting the irresistiblevigor of the assault.
"Yes," the chancellor replied, "those are his plumes."
Alexander indeed was leading the charge along the wall toward thepalace, fighting in the forefront as his custom was, while theshield-bearing guards pressed forward where he led. Their triumphantvoices shouted his name. At one of the towers upon the wall, betweenthe breach and the palace, the Tyrians made a stand, seeking to checkthe advance of their foes. The Macedonians hunted them out and drovethem to the next tower. The battle raged in mid-air, and the bodies ofthe slain fell either into the sea on one side or into the streets ofthe city on the other.
"They will enter here," Azemilcus said. "I think it is time to go."
"It is time!" the chancellor echoed, gazing upon the slaughter like aman under the spell of a horrible fascination.
The king led the way into the large hall where the guard was stationed.It consisted of a company of a hundred men under the command of a youngcaptain whose bronzed face and steady gaze showed that he was a veteranin service despite his youth. He had been pacing backward and forwardbefore his men, who stood at attention along the wall. At sight ofAzemilcus he paused and saluted. The old king placed a thin hand uponhis shoulder.
"I am going to the Temple of Melkarth," he said. "Escort me thither."
The young man shook off the royal hand as though he felt contaminatedby its touch.
"Does your Majesty really mean to seek refuge with the Alexandrine?" heasked indignantly.
"Yes," the king replied, "and I command you to come with me."
"Then I refuse!" the soldier exclaimed. "I have two brothers yonder onthe wall, if they be still alive. The Macedonians will try to enterthe palace, and if they succeed, the city is lost. Go you toMelkarth's temple if you will; but you go alone. We remain here."
Azemilcus looked at the handsome face, flushed with anger, and hisinscrutable smile played about his lips.
"Thy father was my friend, and I have loved thee," he said. "I wouldsave thee if I could, but youth is hot and hasty; have thy will if thoumust."
He began to descend the broad staircase, followed by the tremblingchancellor.
"There goes Tyre!" the young captain cried bitterly, "selfish andtreacherous to the last. To the windows! We may yet save himhonorably, though he does not deserve it."
They reached the seaward side of the palace in time to receive theremnants of the Tyrian companies that had vainly striven to defend thewall. The captain's brothers were not among the fugitives.
It had seemed to the young officer that the entrances to the palacefrom the wall might be held by a few men against any force that couldbe brought up; but it was not within human power to resist the onrushof the Macedonians. The captain was slain by Ptolemy; half his menfell with him, and the others fled down through the palace to thestreets with the Macedonians at their heels.
The noise of the battle spread from the palace through the city. Therewas the clash of steel and the hoarse shouting of men at barricades;screams of women in fear and sharp cries of command mingled with thetrampling of many feet. Save for the obstinate guard, the palace hadbeen left unprotected by the crafty old king, who was awaiting hisconqueror in the sanctuary of Melkarth's temple. Alexander led the wayinto the city with Hephaestion and Philotas. Ptolemy, Perdiccas,Clitus, Peithon, Glaucias, Meleager, Polysperchon, and a score more ofhis Companions and captains swept after him, heading the scarredveterans of Philip's wars,--phalangites, archers and javelin throwers,Thessalian cavalry riders, and heavy-armed mercenaries.
Then in the city of Tyre, whose name for centuries had been a synonymfor power and pride, began a slaughter which lasted until nightfall.Alexander ordered that the Israelites should not be molested and thatnone should enter with violence the Temple of Melkarth; but he did notseek to forbid his followers from taking revenge for the rigors andhardships of the long siege.
At first the Tyrians fought desperately from street to street and fromsquare to square, falling back from one barrier to another; but thisresistance served only to whet the rage that drove the Macedonians on.Fresh troops constantly landed from the fleet and poured in through thepalace. The breach in the wall became a gateway. The pitilesssquadrons hunted the defenders from lane and housetop, cutting them topieces.
In the Sidonian Harbor, seven ships were hastily manned, the chainswere let down, and the crews made a dash for the open sea. They weresnapped up by the Cretan vessels which lay in wait beyond thebreakwater. Three of them were sunk, and the rest were forced tosurrender.
In the house of Phradates the terrified slaves locked and barred thedoors by direction of Mena. The master was fighting on the walls.More than once parties of Macedonian soldiers demanded that the gatesbe opened, but when no response was given, thinking perhaps that thehouse was deserted and tempted by easier spoil, they passed on. Atlast came a Tyrian cry for admittance. Mena looked from the wicket andsaw Phradates, supported by two soldiers. His face was pale and hishelmet had been shattered.
"Open!" cried the soldiers. "Your master has been wounded."
Several of the slaves started forward and laid their hands upon thebars, but the Egyptian pushed them back.
"There is no longer master or slave in Tyre," he said. "Each man mustthink first of himself."
At the suggestion of Phradates the soldiers bore him to the rear of thehouse, where there was a small door leading to the kitchens. It wasopened by a white-haired crone, whose eyes were blinded with tears.
"Bring him in," she cried. "I am his nurse."
"Take him, then," the soldiers said roughly, irritated by the delay."He owes us fifty darics for bringing him off, and we have our own tosave."
Upheld by the trembling arms of the old woman, Phradates staggeredacross the threshold. He could no longer feel the earth beneath hisfeet. If he could only rest a little!
"Is it you, mother?" he asked faintly. "I must sleep."
"Yes, yes, master," the old woman replied through her sobs, "but nothere. Come to your own chamber."
She tried to urge him toward the banqueting hall, but his steps grewmore uncertain and his weight became too great for her feeble strength.
"Mena!" she called. "Mena, here is your master. Come and help him!"
The Egyptian ran in furiously and closed the door that she had leftopen in her anxiety.
"Do you want to have us all killed?" he demanded, turning upon the oldwoman. "Take that, my master, for the beatings you have given me
!"
He plunged his dagger into the young man's defenceless side, andPhradates sank to the floor.
"Thais!" he muttered, "where art thou?"
The old woman uttered a quivering cry and fell upon her knees besidehim, trying with her robe to stop the flow of blood. Mena ran back tothe front of the house, leaving her alone with the body.
"Speak to me! Speak to me!" she wailed, not knowing what she said; butPhradates made no reply.
Tyre was in a turmoil of riot and license. The real fighting was at anend, but the soldiers were everywhere pillaging and drinking. Costlyfabrics were trampled in the mud of the gutters. Rare vases andpriceless statuary were shattered upon the pavements. RoughThessalians ransacked the houses of rich merchants for gold and gems,destroying with laughter and jests what they did not want. The stifledscreams of women mingled with their voices. Here a soldier emergedfrom a great house with his arms full of rich silks. Another shoutedto him that a hoard of gold had been discovered close at hand, and hestraightway dropped his burden that he might get his share of the moreconvenient plunder. There a man who had found a huge tusk of ivorytried to carry it away on his shoulder, while his comrades wrestledwith him for it, uttering shouts of laughter as their fingers slippedupon its polished surface. Sometimes swords were drawn and bloodflowed over a bag of gold or a necklace of pearls. Bands ofmercenaries paraded with wine-skins on their backs, singing the hymnsof Dionysus and squirting the precious vintage into each other's faces.Gorged with blood, the army glutted itself in a delirium of indulgence.
In the universal license the baser elements of the city's populationjoined in the pillage with none to hinder, for the Macedonians were toointent upon their revenge to heed them. Like Mena, slaves rose againsttheir masters, and entire families were slain for the sake of plunderor to requite harsh treatment. The prisons were broken open and theirinmates set at liberty. The sailors about the harbors, who had beenkept inactive by the blockade of the fleet, desperate men from allquarters of the sea, satisfied their ferocious appetites at will. Inthe frenzied carnival of lust and slaughter, neither age nor innocencewas spared.
The swirl of the battle drew Syphax and his companions from theirhaunts among the great warehouses near the waterside, where they hadbeen drinking. The bloated face of the freebooter grew purple witheagerness as he heard the sounds of conflict and of panic spreadthrough the city.
"Ho, comrades!" he shouted, "to-day we pay ourselves for all we havehad to endure from Fortune! The spoil lies ready for us."
"Break open the warehouses and load a ship with ivory and silk," criedone of his followers.
"You are a fool," Syphax replied contemptuously. "We should be sunkbefore we could get out of the harbor. Take nothing but gold andjewels. We can hide them until the time comes to escape. Look there!"
An old man, a member of the council, came running toward them, glancingback over his shoulder to see if he was being pursued. Syphax graspedhim by the arm and tore the heavy golden chain of office from his neck.The man made no resistance, but fled away without a word as soon as hewas released.
"This is what we want," Syphax cried, holding up the shining links."Be bold and follow me."
He set off toward a part of the city that the Macedonians seemed notyet to have penetrated. It was a quarter where many wealthy housesstood, and the sailors were fortunate enough to arrive among the firstof the marauders. In half an hour, each of them had collected afortune in gold and precious stones. There was blood upon the hands ofSyphax and one of his men had a cut across his forehead when they cameout of the last house, carrying their spoil in small, heavy bundles.The city was in its death-throes. From harbor to harbor it had becomea vast shambles.
"Let us get back to the warehouses and bury what we have," one of theseamen said.
Syphax looked about him, and his glance fell upon the house where hehad seen Ariston enter. In their immediate vicinity there was yet nosign of the enemy. A cruel gleam entered the pirate's bloodshot eyes.
"Now that we are rich," he cried, "it is no more than fair that weshould pay our debts. I have one yonder that must be discharged, andto you I resign my share of whatever of value we may find inside."
"Lead on, then, but hasten," the sailors answered.
Syphax found the door bolted, as he had expected. His men battered itin with stones and rushed into the entrance hall. The place seemeddeserted. The sailors scattered through the house in search of booty,but Syphax sought only his enemy.
The terrified family had taken refuge in an alcove on the third floorof the house. There one of the sailors found them and summoned hischief with a joyful shout. Ariston and his host stood at the entranceof the recess, with swords in their hands to defend the women, a motherand three daughters, who cowered behind them in the shadow with twoslave girls only, the rest of the household having fled. The sailorslaughed at the two feeble old men who dared to oppose them.
"Spare our lives and you shall each receive five thousand talents ofgold," Ariston cried. "I am Ariston of Athens, and I pledge myself tothe payment."
"We know what the pledges of Ariston are worth!" Syphax replied, hisface convulsed with hate and rage.
"We are lost, my friend," Ariston said, in a low voice, to his host,recognizing the pirate.
"You bade me once to remember Medon," Syphax bellowed. "I bid thee nowto remember him and the silver talent thou wert to give me for what wasdone in Athens. I have had no luck since; and now thou shalt pay forall!" He rushed upon Ariston, who tried to defend himself; but thepirate easily disarmed him and dragged him out into the room. Themaster of the house fell beneath a shower of blows.
"Now for the harbor! Our time is short," Syphax shouted, hurryingAriston with him down the stairs.
The screaming and prayers of the women mingled with sounds of brutalmerriment told him that his order was unheeded.
"Do you hear?" he roared. "Come, I tell you, before it is too late!"
This time two of the wretches obeyed him, bursting from the room withloud guffaws. The others straggled after them, but several minuteselapsed before they were all assembled for the sally.
"Why not do it here?" one of the sailors asked, indicating Ariston,whose arm Syphax held in a firm grasp.
"Because I intend to make him remember Medon," the freebooter answeredsavagely. "You shall see sport when we reach the harbor."
A cold sweat covered Ariston's forehead, but he made no sound. His earhad caught the trampling of feet, and he hoped yet for rescue.
The sailors emerged into the street and turned toward the harbor. Justas they reached the first corner, a company of Thessalians, in pursuitof a few Tyrian fugitives, ran into them. No questions were asked.The swords of the cavalrymen were already out, and they drove them intothe bodies of the men who were unfortunate enough to block their way.
Syphax alone had time to drop his booty and draw his sword. He sawthat there was no escape.
"Thou hast been my evil genius," he cried to Ariston, "but at any ratethou shalt go with me to the Styx."
He plunged his sword into the old man's side. Before he could withdrawit, a Thessalian blade cleft his skull. Murderer and victim felltogether.
The storm had blown over. The sinking sun shone crimson upon thetwisted clouds far across the sky. In the quarter where the Israelitesdwelt, amid the mourning and rejoicing, Pethuel, the high priest,raised his hands to heaven.
"Give thanks to Jehovah!" he cried. "Our enemies have fallen and theythat mocked Him are no more! Blessed be the name of the Lord!"