CHAPTER LI
AMID FRAGMENTS OF EMPIRE
Clearchus and Artemisia were walking in the garden of their home inAlexandria. Between the trunks of the trees, at a distance, they couldsee the roofs and towers of the populous city, and across the bluewater, which began where the slopes of verdure ended, they could watchthe white sails of ships bringing trade from all parts of the world.Ten years had passed since the palaces of Persepolis had crumbled intoashes. Alexander had been dead three years, and his body lay in theroyal tomb at the mouth of the Nile, whither Ptolemy had brought itfrom Babylon, when the empire was divided among the Macedonian generalsand he came to rule over Egypt in place of the rapacious Cleomenes.
Artemisia's figure had lost some of its girlish grace, but her blueeyes retained their clearness and her cheeks the delicate flush of heryouth. Clearchus, too, was heavier than he had been when he foughtamong the Companions under Alexander, whom men were beginning to call"the Great."
At a turn in the path Artemisia placed her hand upon his arm andchecked him. The silvery voices of children came from a sunlit gladeamong the shrubbery. They saw a boy of eleven years, clad in a shortwhite tunic that left his arms and legs free, shooting with bluntarrows at a target that hung against a tree. Two little girls stoodwatching him, and after each shot they ran with eager laughter to findthe arrow and fetch it back to him. Their fair hair gleamed in thesun. Artemisia's eyes sought those of her husband, and a smile ofmother love transfigured her face.
"I am almost afraid to be so happy," she murmured.
Clearchus laughed. "You need not fear, my heart," he replied. "Do notthe Gods owe us something? They are generous."
They heard a step on the gravel behind them, and Leonidas advanced witha smile and hands outstretched. He had changed little, excepting thata few gray hairs appeared at his temples and the lines of his face haddeepened.
"Welcome, comrade!" Clearchus cried, running forward to meet him."Whence come you? What news?"
"I come from the council in Syria," Leonidas answered, "and as fornews, there has been another division of the world."
"And Ptolemy?" Clearchus asked anxiously.
"He retains Egypt," the Spartan said. "Antipater is regent, withMacedonia and all Greece; Seleucus gets the satrapy of Babylon; andAntigonus, Susiana, besides what he had."
"I hope we shall have peace at last," Artemisia said, glancing towardthe children.
"We shall have peace here, at all events," Leonidas said grimly. "Noneof the generals is desirous of sharing the fate of Perdiccas."
They sat down beneath a vine-grown trellis while Leonidas told them ofthe events that had led to the new distribution of the empire,describing the jealousies of the leaders and the ferment of revolt thatwas working in Greece.
"When will they stop killing each other?" Artemisia said sadly. "Hasnot each of them more than enough without trying to rob the others?Leave them to their quarrels, Leonidas; there is room enough foranother house here beside us, and we will find you a mistress for it."
Leonidas shook his head and sipped the wine that a slave had broughtfor his refreshment. He knew that she referred to the site that theyhad reserved for Chares and Thais.
"It is too late," he replied, half regretfully. "As we have lived, sowe must die."
Artemisia slipped her hand within that of Clearchus, while the Spartanfollowed with his eyes the glancing sails of a vessel whose prow wasturned toward the north and the rugged hillsides of his native land.Their reflections were interrupted by the children, who had tired oftheir play and were seeking new diversion.
"Ho! Uncle Leonidas," shouted the boy, swooping down upon the Spartan."Where did you come from? Tell me about the death of King Darius!"
He sat down beside Leonidas and composed himself to listen. The littlegirls took Artemisia prisoner and led her away to see a nest they hadfound, in which, they assured her, were funny little birds with nofeathers on their wings. Leonidas, his eyes still on the recedingship, began the story that he had often told before. He related howthe army came to Ecbatana, the gem of cities, with its seven walls eachof a different color from the others, and each rising higher than theone outside it, and how they found that the Great King had fled up intothe snow-capped mountains that overlook the Caspian Sea. He had withhim Bessus, the treacherous; Oxathres, his own brother; Artabazus, thefirst nobleman of Persia, who commanded the Greek mercenaries; and ascore more of the generals and viceroys who still remained constant tohis fortune. He told how Darius wished to stand and fight among therugged passes, but the others would not allow it; how Artabazus,suspecting their perfidy, besought him to trust himself to his Greeks,to which the Great King consented for the morrow; and how that nightBessus fettered him with golden chains and made him a prisoner in hislitter.
The boy listened with sparkling eyes intent upon the Spartan's face,while Leonidas described how Alexander, finding the Persians everfleeing before him, had left the foot-soldiers behind and struck outwith the Companions across the desert to intercept them. The lad heldhis breath as he followed the desperate ride over the burning sands,where one by one the horses stumbled and fell, gasping, until onlyseventy riders remained. His cheeks flushed when he heard how asoldier had brought water to Alexander in his helmet, and how the youngking, thirsty as he was, refused to moisten his lips because there wasnot enough for all.
Then came the charge of the seventy weary Macedonians in the gray ofthe morning upon the camp of the sleeping Persians and thepanic-stricken flight of the cowardly army before them, too frightenedeven to look back. And there they found the Great King lying in hislitter, stabbed through and through by the order of Bessus, who hadhoped thus to win the favor of Alexander.
"And that was the end of Darius," the Spartan concluded. "Alexanderwas sorry for his death, and he spread his own cloak over him as he laythere; but I think it was better for him to die then than to livesubject to another, remembering his former power. He was unfortunatein this, that he was not killed in battle, as all brave men should wishto be. He had an opportunity for that at Gaugamela, but he threw itaway."
A picture rose before the Spartan's memory of Chares, lying with hisbroad shoulders against the side of his horse amid the dead, with asmile upon his lips, and he sighed.
"You have never yet told me what became of Bessus," the boy saidcoaxingly. "Is he still alive?"
"No," Leonidas replied, his face darkening. "He was betrayed in histurn, and Alexander ordered him to be killed in the manner of theScyths when they punish traitors."
"What is that?" the boy asked.
"I shall not tell you," Leonidas said grimly, "but it was too good forhim!"
"There is Thais," Clearchus exclaimed. "Run and fetch your mother," headded to his son.
They rose and went to meet Thais, who was advancing slowly down anavenue of trees. Two enormous black eunuchs held a broad parasol aboveher head, and other slaves followed her, both men and maids, forming atrain of escort. When she saw Clearchus and Leonidas, she spoke a wordto her attendants, who halted, and she came forward alone. Thesunlight, sifting through the branches that formed a green arch overher head, touched the burnished coils of her hair, flashing from hiddenjewels and glancing upon the shimmering silk of her robes.
"She is more beautiful than ever," Leonidas said, gazing at her withadmiration.
"Yes, and she rules Ptolemy in everything," Clearchus replied.
"My friends!" Thais exclaimed, giving them her hands. "It makes myheart glad to see you; but where is Artemisia?"
"I have sent for her," Clearchus replied.
"Before she comes," Thais said, seating herself beneath the trellis andlowering her voice, "I must tell you something. The proofs for which Isent to Athens have arrived, and there can no longer be any doubt thatwe are sisters."
"She will be overjoyed," Clearchus said.
"I shall not tell her," Thais replied.
"Why not?" Leonidas asked bluntly. "You are a queen
now, or will beone soon, and nobody thinks of--of the past."
"It is precisely because I intend to be a queen that I shall not tellher," Thais continued. "She could not love me more if she knew, and Iwill not be the means of bringing danger upon her or her children. Weknow the fate that awaits the kinsmen of princes. Did not Olympiascause Cleopatra to be slain with her babe in her arms? Has not Roxanamurdered Statira, and is not Roxana herself, with the young Alexander,held in captivity? Nevertheless, I will tell her if you desire, and itshall be proclaimed throughout Egypt."
"May the Gods forbid!" Clearchus exclaimed. "You are right, Thais. Itmust not be told."
"Then I will destroy the proofs," she said, "and remain, as I havebeen, the first of my race."
All three were silent, thinking of the future, and Thais smiledfaintly, as though at that moment she were conscious of the wonderfulpower that was to descend through her daughters, until it attained itsperfection in the irresistible charm of that Cleopatra who was to seethe conquerors of the world at her feet. Yet she sighed as her eyesmet those of Clearchus.
"If only Chares were here!" she murmured.
"We know," the Athenian answered gravely, "and we do not blame you,since all of us must bow to the will of the Gods."
"I thank you," she said simply. "You have both been kind to me."
Artemisia joined them, holding one of her girls by either hand, whileyoung Chares followed with his bow, concerning which he wished toconsult Leonidas. There, in the vine-grown arbor, they sat talkinguntil the shadows began to lengthen, and the afternoon drew to itsclose. Thais rose, lithe and graceful as an animal of the desert, andthe slaves, who had been watching her, in a bright-colored group, frombeneath the trees, scrambled to their feet.
"Come, Leonidas, the cares of state await us," she said. "Rememberthat you are a general now, and I am almost a queen, while these twohave nothing to do but waste their time in being happy."
"You will come again to-morrow?" Artemisia said, embracing her.
"Perhaps," replied Thais, and she moved away down the avenue with theSpartan, toward the retinue of slaves who stood waiting to surround her.
Clearchus and Artemisia watched them until the foliage hid them fromsight, and then turned toward the house. Artemisia noticed that a rosebush, weighted with flowers, had swayed across the path, and shestooped to put it back into place. Clearchus slipped his arm about herwaist and kissed her.
"Silly!" she said, blushing, "everybody will see you."
"That cannot be helped," he retorted. "You looked then just as youlooked in the garden in Academe that morning when I found you amongyour roses--and I think I love you more now than I did then."
"We love each other more," Artemisia said softly, "because we did notknow then what it would be to lose each other."