they could out of the Palace for themselves. So no one surrendered, not in form. Well, now; Alexander gave out prize-money to his men at Babylon, and again at Susa. But it’s not the same. Two great cities fallen, and never a chance to loot. No troops will stand that forever.”
His loud voice had roused the messenger. He had stolen two horses from the stables, while the Palace burned, and had enjoyed his importance here, till the wine had quenched him. “No,” he said thickly, “it was those Greeks. The King’s slaves. They got free, they met him on the way, four thousand of them. Nobody knew there were so many, not till they came together.” His voice droned off. The soldier said, “Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”
“He cried over them.” The messenger gave a belch. “One of them told me so; they’re all free now, free and rich. He said he’d send them all home with enough to live on; but they didn’t want to be seen there, not as they are now. They asked for some land they could farm together, being used to the sight of each other. Well, then he was angry like nobody ever saw him, and marched straight up to the city and let loose his men. Just kept the Palace for himself, till he burned that too.”
I remembered Susa, and the Greek slaves of the royal jeweler; their leg-stumps, their branded and noseless faces. Four thousand! Most must have been there since King Ochos’ day. Four thousand! I recalled Boubakes, bewailing the ravaged beauty. I don’t suppose such people had come much in his way; or not more than two or three of them.
“So,” said the soldier, “there’s an end to the New Year festivals. I was posted there once, it was the sight of a lifetime. Well, it’s war. I was with Ochos’ force in Egypt . . .”He frowned to himself. Presently he looked up. “I don’t know how drunk he was. He saved his bonfire, till he was ready to be leaving.”
I understood him. Spring was breaking everywhere. But no soldier expects a eunuch to know anything.
“He’s burned his quarters behind him. And you know where he’ll be coming now? He’ll be coming here.”
-8-
IT WAS a day of late spring rain, with brown torrents in the gullies, when the King ordered the women to be sent north. They were to go through the pass of the Kaspian Gates, to safekeeping in Kadousia.
I helped load them into the wagons. You could see at a glance the favorites; they looked worn out, with blue streaks under their eyes. Even after these farewells, there were figures lingering on the Palace roof, gazing after them.
To the common soldiers it meant nothing, unless it shortened their lords’ tempers. Their own women would trudge behind them, with the sacks that were their households, as soldiers’ women have done since wars began. Being more used than the ladies to shifting for themselves, not a few had scrambled off from Gaugamela.
Alexander had set out for Media. He seemed in no great haste, attending to this and that on his way. We would soon be on the north road, where the Kadousian and Scythian troops would march to meet us. With them, we would await him, and contest his passage to Hyrkania. So it was said. It was said also, though not so loudly, that if he were heard of within a hundred miles, we would be off through the passes ourselves, to Hyrkania and east to Baktria. “When we serve the great, they are our destiny.” I tried to live each day as it came.
On a clear day in early summer we started out. Where the road turned into the hills, I turned as I rode, to see the light of sunrise gleam on the golden battlements. Beautiful city, I thought, I shall never see you again. Had I only known!
As we passed mountain hamlets, I noticed how lean the peasants were, ?and how sullenly they watched us. It was a poor countryside for an army to have lived off. Yet, when the King passed by, they all did reverence. He was godlike to them, set above his servants’ deeds. It has been in the blood of us Persians a
His loud voice had roused the messenger. He had stolen two horses from the stables, while the Palace burned, and had enjoyed his importance here, till the wine had quenched him. “No,” he said thickly, “it was those Greeks. The King’s slaves. They got free, they met him on the way, four thousand of them. Nobody knew there were so many, not till they came together.” His voice droned off. The soldier said, “Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”
“He cried over them.” The messenger gave a belch. “One of them told me so; they’re all free now, free and rich. He said he’d send them all home with enough to live on; but they didn’t want to be seen there, not as they are now. They asked for some land they could farm together, being used to the sight of each other. Well, then he was angry like nobody ever saw him, and marched straight up to the city and let loose his men. Just kept the Palace for himself, till he burned that too.”
I remembered Susa, and the Greek slaves of the royal jeweler; their leg-stumps, their branded and noseless faces. Four thousand! Most must have been there since King Ochos’ day. Four thousand! I recalled Boubakes, bewailing the ravaged beauty. I don’t suppose such people had come much in his way; or not more than two or three of them.
“So,” said the soldier, “there’s an end to the New Year festivals. I was posted there once, it was the sight of a lifetime. Well, it’s war. I was with Ochos’ force in Egypt . . .”He frowned to himself. Presently he looked up. “I don’t know how drunk he was. He saved his bonfire, till he was ready to be leaving.”
I understood him. Spring was breaking everywhere. But no soldier expects a eunuch to know anything.
“He’s burned his quarters behind him. And you know where he’ll be coming now? He’ll be coming here.”
-8-
IT WAS a day of late spring rain, with brown torrents in the gullies, when the King ordered the women to be sent north. They were to go through the pass of the Kaspian Gates, to safekeeping in Kadousia.
I helped load them into the wagons. You could see at a glance the favorites; they looked worn out, with blue streaks under their eyes. Even after these farewells, there were figures lingering on the Palace roof, gazing after them.
To the common soldiers it meant nothing, unless it shortened their lords’ tempers. Their own women would trudge behind them, with the sacks that were their households, as soldiers’ women have done since wars began. Being more used than the ladies to shifting for themselves, not a few had scrambled off from Gaugamela.
Alexander had set out for Media. He seemed in no great haste, attending to this and that on his way. We would soon be on the north road, where the Kadousian and Scythian troops would march to meet us. With them, we would await him, and contest his passage to Hyrkania. So it was said. It was said also, though not so loudly, that if he were heard of within a hundred miles, we would be off through the passes ourselves, to Hyrkania and east to Baktria. “When we serve the great, they are our destiny.” I tried to live each day as it came.
On a clear day in early summer we started out. Where the road turned into the hills, I turned as I rode, to see the light of sunrise gleam on the golden battlements. Beautiful city, I thought, I shall never see you again. Had I only known!
As we passed mountain hamlets, I noticed how lean the peasants were, ?and how sullenly they watched us. It was a poor countryside for an army to have lived off. Yet, when the King passed by, they all did reverence. He was godlike to them, set above his servants’ deeds. It has been in the blood of us Persians a
Similar Books
