Part 31 (1/2)
But Hermione was caring for none of these things. Her hands were busy with the swaddling clothes. Her thoughts only for that wicker cradle which swung betwixt the pillars, where Hermippus's house looked toward Salamis.
CHAPTER XIX
THE COMMANDMENT OF XERXES
It is easy to praise the blessings of peace. Still easier to paint the horrors of war,-and yet war will remain for all time the greatest game at which human wits can play. For in it every form of courage, physical and moral, and every talent are called into being. If war at once develops the b.e.s.t.i.a.l, it also develops as promptly the heroic. Alone of human activities it demands a brute's strength, an iron will, a serpent's intellect, a lion's courage-all in one. And of him who has these things in justest measure, history writes, ”He conquered.” It was because Mardonius seemed to possess all these, to foresee everything, to surmount everything, that Glaucon despaired for the fate of h.e.l.las, even more than when he beheld the crus.h.i.+ng armaments of the Persian.
Yet for long it seemed as if the host would march even to Athens without battle, without invoking Mardonius's skill. The king crossed Thrace and Macedonia, meeting only trembling hospitality from the cities along his route. At Doriscus he had held a review of his army, and smiled when the fawning scribes told how one million seven hundred thousand foot and eighty thousand horse followed his banners.(8) Every fugitive and spy from southern h.e.l.las told how the hearts of the stanchest patriots were sinking, how everywhere save in Athens and Sparta loud voices urged the sending of ”earth and water,”-tokens of submission to the irresistible king. At the pa.s.s of Tempe covering Thessaly, Glaucon, who knew the hopes of Themistocles, had been certain the h.e.l.lenes would make a stand. Rumour had it that ten thousand Greek infantry were indeed there, and ready for battle. But the outlaw's expectations were utterly shattered. To the disgust of the Persian lords, who dearly loved brisk fighting, it was soon told how the cowardly h.e.l.lenes had fled by s.h.i.+p, leaving the rich plains of Thessaly bare to the invader.
Thus was blasted Glaucon's last hope. h.e.l.las was doomed. He almost looked to see Themistocles coming as amba.s.sador to bring the homage of Athens.
Since his old life seemed closed to the outlaw, he allowed Mardonius to have his will with him,-to teach him to act, speak, think, as an Oriental.
He even bowed himself low before the king, an act rewarded by being commanded one evening to play at dice with majesty itself. Xerxes was actually gracious enough to let his new subject win from him three handsome Syrian slave-boys.
”You h.e.l.lenes are becoming wise,” announced the monarch one day, when the Locrian envoys came with their earth and water. ”If you can learn to speak the truth, you will equal even the virtues of the Aryans.”
”Your Majesty has not found me a liar,” rejoined the Athenian, warmly.
”You gather our virtues apace. I must consider how I can reward you by promotion.”
”The king is overwhelmingly generous. Already I fear many of his servants mutter that I am promoted beyond all desert.”
”Mutter? mutter against you?” The king's eyes flashed ominously. ”By Mazda, it is against me, then, who advanced you! Hearken, Otanes,”-he addressed the general of the Persian footmen, who stood near by,-”who are the disobedient slaves who question my advancement of Prexaspes?”
The general-he had been the loudest grumbler-bowed and kissed the carpet.
”None, your Eternity; on the contrary, there is not one Aryan in the host who does not rejoice the king has found so n.o.ble an object for his G.o.dlike bounty.”
”You hear, Prexaspes,” said Xerxes, mollified. ”I am glad, for the man who questions my wisdom touching your advancement must be impaled. To-morrow is my birthday, you will not fail to sit with the other great lords at the banquet.”
”The king overpowers me with his goodness.”
”Do not fail to deserve it. Mardonius is always praising you. Consider also how much better it is to depend on a gracious king than on the clamour of the fickle mob that rules in your helpless cities!”
The next morning was the royal birthday. The army, pitched in the fertile plain by Thessalian Larissa, feasted on the abundance at hand. The king distributed huge largesses of money. All day long he sat in his palace-like tent, receiving congratulations from even the lowest of his followers, and bound in turn not to reject any reasonable pet.i.tion. The Magi sacrificed blooded stallions and rare spices to Mithra the ”Lord of Wide Pastures,” to Vohu-Manu the ”Holy Councillor,” and all their other angels, desiring them to bless the arms of the king.
The ”Perfect Banquet” of the birthday came in the evening. It hardly differed from the feast at Sardis. The royal pavilion had its poles plated with silver, the tapestries were green and purple, the couches were spread with gorgeous coverlets. Only the drinking was more moderate, the ceremonial less rigid. The fortunate guests devoured dainties reserved for the special use of royalty: the flour of the bread was from a.s.sos, the wine from Helbon, the water to dilute the wine had come in silver flasks from the Choaspes by Susa. The king even distributed the special unguent of lion's fat and palm wine which no subject, unpermitted, could use and shun the death penalty.
Then at the end certain of the fairest of the women came and danced unveiled before the king-this one night when they might show forth their beauty. And last of all danced Roxana. She danced alone; a diaphanous drapery of pink Egyptian cotton blew around her as an evening cloud. From her black hair shone the diamond coronet. To the sensuous swing of the music she wound in and out before the king and his admiring lords, advancing, retreating, rising, swaying, a paragon of agility and grace, feet, body, hands, weaving their charm together. When at the end she fell on her knees before the king, demanding whether she had done well, the applause shook the pavilion. The king looked down on her, smiling.
”Rise, sister of Mardonius. All Eran rejoices in you to-night. And on this evening whose request can I fail to grant? Whose can I grant more gladly than yours? Speak; you shall have it, though it be for half my kingdoms.”
The dancer arose, but hung down her flas.h.i.+ng coronal. Her blush was enchanting. She stood silent, while the good-humoured king smiled down on her, till Artazostra came from her seat by Mardonius and whispered in her ear. Every neck in the crowded pavilion was craned as Artazostra spoke to Xerxes.
”May it please my royal brother, this is the word of Roxana. 'I love my brother Mardonius; nevertheless, contrary to the Persian custom, he keeps me now to my nineteenth year unwedded. If now I have found favour in the sight of the king, let him command Mardonius to give me to some n.o.ble youth who shall do me honour by the valiant deeds and the true service he shall render unto my Lord.' ”