FEINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMEB1CA 9 страница

Astonishment held me rooted. I had understood. The man—I remembered his name, Hephaistion—now leaned his head beside the King's, to read his writing. Coming a little to myself, I moved softly back to the concealing shadows. They both turned, and saw me.

My heart almost ceased to beat. I prostrated myself and kissed the floor. As I rose, Hephaistion was looking at the King with lifted brows, half laughing. The King, however, looked straight at me, and did not laugh at all.

He said, " Why are you here? " but all Greek had failed me. He beckoned me up, felt me over with hard firm hands, and said, " No weapon. How long have you been here? "

" My lord King, since after dinner. " I dared not remind him he had sent for me; no doubt he wished it forgotten. " I am sorry, indeed, my lord. I—I thought I was to wait on you. "

" You heard me say I would tell you your duties later. "

At these words, I felt a blush of shame flood my whole body and scald my face. Gladly I would have been swallowed by the earth. I could say nothing.

He saw my confusion. His harshness gone, he said quite gently, " Don't distress yourself. I see you misunderstood me. I am not angry with you, Bagoas. You have leave to go. "

I made reverence and went out. The night guard stood facing outwards. I paused on the dark side of the tent. I had no friend here, no one to advise me. I must learn whatever I could.

The King said, " Since after dinner! And not a sound. He creeps about like a cat. "

" He was stiff with fright, " Hephaistion answered. " What have you been doing with him, Alexander? Eh? " He was laughing.

" At a guess, " said the King, " I should say he thought you meant to murder me. Remember he's used to Persian manners, and court manners at that. Poor little wretch! He was Darius' boy. I told him I'd see him later; of course he thought I wanted him for the night. I have put him to shame; all my fault; his Greek seemed good. I should have used the interpreter. One should have some Persian oneself, for things like this. "

" That would be worse. It took you long enough to learn Greek. Well, there's your teacher. You might as well find some use for him; as it is, you've bought yourself talk enough. "

One of the guards moved; I had to slip away without hearing more.

My bed was in the clerks' tent. A torch outside lit it dimly through the entry. Two were sleeping; the third, who had seemed to be, peeped out as I took off my clothes. It was a fit end to a dreadful day. I pulled up my blanket, bit on the pillow, and soaked it with silent tears.

I remembered Nabarzanes' promises. What perfidy! How could he not have known this, knowing so much? The whole Macedonian army must know. How long must those two have been lovers, to behave like that, to talk like that? " It took you long enough to learn Greek! " Ten years?

The Queen's Eunuch had told us how they had visited the royal tent together, and the Queen Mother had not known which to bow to. " Never mind, mother, you weren't far out; he too is Alexander. " Not even from her had he troubled to hide it.

Why, I thought, did he ever accept my service? What does he want with a boy? He is somebody's boy himself. And he must be twenty-five at least.

One of the clerks was snoring. For all my anger, I thought with longing of Nabarzanes' house. Tomorrow it would be forsaken; by next year, rotting back into the forest. So all that was Persian in me would rot away, as I trailed through strange lands, a servitor in this barbarian army.

I recalled Nabarzanes saying, in a haze of lamplight and wine, " What can one give to a man like that? Something he has been wanting a long time, without being aware of it. . . " Well, he had fooled me as he did Darius; I should have expected it. And yet, he brought me here to win favor for himself; he never pretended otherwise. I am unjust, I thought. He must have acted in ignorance.

Soon after, worn out with trouble, I fell asleep.

hen one is young, morning light does wonders. In the picket-lines, my horse (I had called him Lion) had been well cared for. Though the faces of the Thracian grooms seemed at first hardly human—these were the men who really painted themselves blue—one of them told me with grins and gestures what a fine horse he was. As I cantered up river in first light, my heart revived; till I saw a sight so shocking, I hardly believed my eyes.

A dozen young men were in the river itself, their whole bodies in the sacred waters, washing themselves; and, as if delighting in this impious pollution, splashing about or swimming. Among them was a mane of golden hair, which, wet as it was, could be nobody's but the King's. I thought that he looked my way, and galloped off in horror.

Barbarians! I thought. What vengeance will Anahita of the Waters take on them? It was a beautiful morning, fresh but turning warm. Truly, I had left all civilized things behind me. All the same... if one knew no better, what pleasure to slide through the sparkling river, bare as a fish.

But where it flowed past the camp, I saw there was no insult these people would not offer the deity of the stream. They were not only washing themselves; they were scouring pots, watering horses. All my disgust returned. No wonder I had had trouble finding a vessel to draw water for my toilet!

Still worse a misery was the indecency of the privies. Just a trench, even for the Household, and people walking in, which was bad enough. But the squires, and other mannerless people, would try to take a look at me. Any Persian boy has satisfied his curiosity about eunuchs before he is six years old; but here, grown men supposed one had been cut down to the shape of a woman. The squires had had a bet on it. For some days, exposed to these immodesties, I had to get to the woods before nature would obey me.

I had heard no more about my duties, and dreaded presenting myself at the King's supper table. However, instead of dismissing me, he gave me some promotion. During the day, a number of noble Persians had come in, to surrender and swear allegiance. Nabarzanes had been let go with a bare pardon, because he had killed his King; but these others had been received as guests of honor. More than once, when something choice had been put before Alexander, he would direct a server to take a portion, and say to me, " Go to So-and-so, and tell him I hope he will enjoy this dish with me. " Though used to better food, the guests were pleased with this Persian compliment. I wondered he had learned so quickly; little knowing how.

Quite often, as he sent these delicacies away, I would warn him there would be nothing left for him; but he only smiled, and ate what everyone had. His sunburn had healed. One had to own that he was comely, even in Persia.

He never made me carry anything myself. He remembered last night, and was trying to heal my pride. It seemed that for someone reared in the wilds, he had much natural courtesy. One could not say as much for his Macedonians. His friends followed his lead; Hephaistion kept his eye on him all the time; but some (mostly those who had kept their beards) made it clear enough what they thought of eating with Persians. At any difference of manners, they would laugh or even point. There were lords here, whose forebears had been kings before Kyros' time; but I was sure these uncouth westerners would have wished to see them carrying in the dishes. More than once, Alexander turned a cold eye on these boors; a few took notice, others pretended not to see.

He has himself to blame, I thought. He lets them go on in his presence like untrained dogs who will not come to heel. He is feared in war, but not at his own table. What must my people think of him?

One or two of the Persians glanced at me. Not all knew who I was; Darius had never dreamed of showing me at his side in public. Yet Alexander, whom I was nothing to, seemed quite pleased to have me seen. Of course, I thought. I am spoils of war, like Darius' chariot. I am Darius' boy.

On the third day Chares the chamberlain gave me a written message, and sent me to find the King, saying, " I daresay he is in the ball-court. "

Inquiring for this place, I found a square of canvas walls, and heard shouting within, and the sound of thudding feet. The entry was a doorless overlap, without a guard. I went in; and paused frozen where I stood. Eight or ten young men were running about there, and every one stark naked.

It was beyond belief. The only grown men I had ever seen in such a state were the slaves who had been sold along with me, and criminals at the place of execution, whose offenses had merited such disgrace. What sort of people had I come among? I was about to escape, when a big hairy young man came bounding up and asked me what I wanted. Averting my eyes, I said I had come here by mistake, having been sent by Chares to the King.

" Yes, he's here, " the young man said, and bounded a few steps off. " Alexander! It's a message from Chares. " Next moment, there stood the King, as naked as all the rest.

From his lack of shame, you might have supposed he had never worn clothes nor felt the want of them. I cast down my eyes, too shocked even to speak, till he said, " Well, what is this message from Chares? "

I begged his pardon, my confusion now complete. He took the note and read it. While the first young man's sweat had smelled as strong as a horse, the King seemed as fresh as if straight from the bath, though he was flushed with exercise. It was said of him that the ardor of his nature burned up the humors. Just then my only concern was to hide my own flush of shame.

" Tell Chares—" he said, and paused. I felt him look at me. " No, tell him I’ll send for him shortly. " Clearly he did not trust me with the simplest message; I could not wonder. " That's all then, " he said; and then, " Bagoas. " " Yes, my lord? " I answered, looking at my feet. " Cheer up, boy. You'll soon get used to it. "

I went off in a daze. Even though the Greeks were a byword for immodesty, I had never thought a king could sink so low. Why, I myself, trained in my calling to strip off in the inner room, would have been ashamed, outside of that, to be less decent than anyone else. It is something, I thought, when a king can put a courtesan to the blush. Has he no sense of his dignity at all?

We moved camp soon after. The speed of it amazed me. When the trumpet sounded, everyone seemed to know his task without orders. I was the last to get my horse, and the Horse-Master cursed me; when I rode back the tent was gone, and my things were sitting in the open. We were on the march, an hour before Darius would have been wakened.

I looked to see where Alexander would take his place; there was no sign of him, and I asked the clerk who rode beside me. He pointed outwards; some way off was a chariot, going at a fair pace; a man was jumping off it, running alongside without its slowing down for him, and jumping on again. I asked, " Why does he make the man do that? Is it a punishment? " He threw back his head and laughed. " But that's the King. " Seeing me bewildered, he added, " He's taking exercise. He can't bear to dawdle at foot-pace. Often he hunts, when the game is good. "

I thought of the shaded litter, the Magi with their altar, the miles-long train of eunuchs and women and baggage. It seemed like another life.

We were moving northeast into Hyrkania. At the next camp, Artabazos came in to surrender.

He had been resting awhile after his long march, and getting his sons together. Besides the elder ones, he brought in nine handsome young men I had never seen before. He must have begotten them all between seventy and eighty.

Alexander met him outside the tent; came forward, took both his hands, and offered his cheek to kiss. These courtesies done, he embraced him as a son might do a father.

He of course spoke Greek, from his years of exile. Alexander put him at his right hand at supper. Standing by his chair, I heard him laughing with the old man over his childish scrapes, and recalling the tales of Persia he had heard upon his knee. " Ah, " said Artabazos, " but even then, my lord, you used to ask me what weapons King Ochos used. " Alexander smiled, and helped him to meat himself from his own dish. Even the rudest of the Macedonians held their peace.

Just after, an envoy came in from the Greek troops, asking for terms of surrender.

I was thankful for Artabazos, who I knew would speak for them, as indeed he did. But, taking it ill that Greek should fight against Greek, Alexander sent word they could come in to learn his terms, or stay away.

They came in two days later, the greater part of them. Some had gone off through the pass to try their fortunes; one Athenian had killed himself, being well known in Greece as an enemy of Macedon. The rest were in good discipline, though rather lean. I could not get near, but thought I could glimpse Doriskos, and wondered how I could rescue him, if he was condemned to die.

But Alexander's only vengeance was the fright he gave them by refusing terms. Patron and his veterans, who had been serving before he declared war, he sent back to Greece with safe-conduct. Those like Doriskos, who had joined up after that, he reprimanded, said they did not deserve release, and simply hired them, at the wage they had had before (his own men were paid higher). They were marched straight off to their camp, and I had no chance to bid Doriskos farewell.

It was shortly after this, that Alexander went off to fight the Mardians.

They lived in thick mountain forest, west in the range, and had sent no envoys. They were known for their fierceness; but as they had nothing worth taxing, Persian kings for generations had let them be. They were also famous robbers; Alexander did not mean to leave them in arms behind him, nor to have it said they were more than he could handle.

He went traveling light, for rough campaigning. Left in the base-camp, I tried to find my feet; helped in this by his having taken his squires along. These boys, who seemed to think I had chosen my own condition, felt for me contempt, mingled with envy they did not own to. They could do their duties, in a rude and simple way, but knew nothing of such manners as I'd been trained in. It irked them that Alexander did not mock what they called my fawning barbarian ways, but chose me to compliment his guests of honor. They were forever plaguing me behind his back.

Chares, who had always treated me well, used to consult me about fine points of Persian etiquette, there being no one else from the court. I had time for riding, though the plain was humid and close. My having a good horse of my own was a great grievance with the squires, who thought it should have been taken from me. They themselves had army mounts, issued them by the Horse-Master.

The King was back in a half-month. He had chased the Mardians up the mountains, where they'd thought to sit him out; but finding him clamber after them, they gave up, and acknowledged him King.

That night at dinner, I heard him say to Ptolemy, his bastard half-brother, " He'll be back tomorrow! " So joyful did he sound, I thought he must mean Hephaistion; but the man was there at table.

Next morning there was a stir of expectation in the camp. I joined the crowd near the royal tent, though I had wakened with a headache. Seeing that the old Macedonian near me had a kindly face, I asked who was arriving. He said smiling, " Boukephalos. The Mardians are bringing him back. "

" Boukephalos? " Surely this meant Oxhead; an odd name. " Who is he, please? "

" You have never heard of Oxhead? Why, Alexander's horse. "

Remembering how satrap after satrap had brought him steeds matchless in their kinds, I asked why the Mardians were bringing this one. He answered, " Because they stole him. "

" In that horse-thief country, " I said, " the King was lucky to get him back so soon. "

" It had to be soon, " said the old man calmly. " Alexander sent word that if he were not returned, he would fire the forests and put them all to the sword. "

" For a horse? " I cried, remembering his kindness to Artabazos, his mercy to the Greeks. " But he would never really have done it? "

The old man considered. " For Oxhead? Oh, yes, I think so. Not all at once. He would have begun, and gone on till they brought him back. "

The King had come out, and was standing before his tent, as he'd done to welcome Artabazos. Hephaistion and Ptolemy stood by him. Ptolemy was a bony-faced warrior with a broken nose, some ten years older than Alexander. Most Persian kings would have had such a person put out of the way when they assumed the throne; but these two seemed the best of friends. At the sound of approaching horns, all three were smiling.

A Mardian chief came first, in an ancient robe which looked as if it had been stolen in Artaxerxes' day. Behind was the string of horses. I saw at once there was not a Nisaian among them; but size is not everything.

I craned over all the shoulders, to glimpse this peerless pearl, this arrow of fire, that was worth a province and its people. He must be such, for the King even to have missed him, among so many. Darius had always been superbly mounted, and would soon have noticed a falling off; but it was the Master of the Stables who knew which was which.

The cavalcade approached. The Mardians, in token of repentance, had adorned all the horses with their barbaric finery, plumes on their heads, on their foreheads nets of scarlet wool, glittering with beads and sequins. For some reason, they had made gaudiest of all an old black horse that was plodding along in front, looking dead-beat. The King took a few steps forward.

The old beast threw up its head and whinnied loudly; you could see, then, it had been a good horse once. Suddenly Ptolemy, running like a boy, took its bridle from the Mardian, and loosed it. It broke into a stiff-legged canter, all its foolish fripperies jingling; made straight for the King, and nuzzled against his shoulder.

The King stroked its nose a time or two. He had been standing, it seemed, all this time grasping an apple, and with this he fed it. Then he turned round with his face pressed to its neck. I saw that he was crying.

There seemed nothing, now, with which he could still astonish me. I looked round at the soldiers, to see how they would take it. Beside me, two weathered Macedonians were blinking and wiping their noses.

The horse had been pushing at the King's ear, as if to confide in him. Now it sank creaking on its haunches. This done, it sat like one who has achieved something, and expects reward.

The King, his cheeks still wet, said, " He's too stiff for this. He will keep it up. I'll never get him out of it. " He bestrode the saddlecloth. The horse heaved itself up quite briskly. They trotted off towards the stables. The assembled army gave a cheer; the King turned and waved.

The old man by me turned to me with a smile. I said, " I don't understand, sir. Why, that horse looks to be well past twenty. "

" Oh, yes. It is twenty-five; a year younger than Alexander. It was meant to be sold to his father, when he was thirteen. It had been mistreated on the way, and would let no one near it. King Philip would have none of it. It was Alexander who cried out that a great horse was being thrown away. His father thought him too forward, and gave him leave to try, thinking it would humble him. But it trusted him, as soon as it felt his hand. Yes, that, was the first time he did what his father could not... He had his first command at sixteen, and before that he was at war; all that time, he has ridden Oxhead. Even at Gaugamela, he saved him up for the charge, though he changed horses soon after. Well, Oxhead has fought his last battle. But as you see, he is still beloved. "

" That is rare, " I said, " in kings. "

" In anyone. Well, I don't doubt he would do as much for me, seeing he has risked his life for me, though I am no more use to him now than that old horse. Once I told him tales of heroes, now he could better them himself. But though he was no more than a child when I stood between him and his tutor's harshness, he never forgets. In the hills behind Tyre, he got himself benighted with me, nearly alone, because I outwalked my strength and he would not leave me on anyone else's arm. My own fault too, I would go along. We were lying up in the rocks; winter, and a bitter wind, and the enemy watch-fires too near. He felt at me and said, " Phoinix, you're freezing. This won't do. Wait here. " He was off like a flash; I heard shouts and cries from a watch-fire; back he came like a torch-racer, with a burning brand. Alone, with just his sword, and he put the fear of death in them. We kindled our blaze, and they all went running, they never looked to see what troops he had. So we sat warm for the night. "

I would have liked to hear more from this old man, who seemed fond of talking. But just then I felt sick, and had to run away and vomit. My head burned; I shivered. I told Chares I had fever, and he sent me to the hospital tents.

They were pretty well full of wounded from the Mardian war. The doctor put me in a corner, telling me not to walk among the others, in case my fever was catching. One thing it did for me, was break me in to Macedonian privies. My only thought was to get there fast enough.

I lay weak as a babe, keeping nothing down but water, hearing the men brag of the campaign, of women they had raped, or of Alexander. " They were stoning us from up the cliff, rocks that could break your arm through your shield. Up he comes, strolling through it. 'Well, men, what are we waiting for, enough stones to build a sheep-pen? This way up. ' And he's up the gully like a cat into a tree. We clawed up after him; they couldn't hit us there, we took them in flank. Some of them jumped off the cliff, but we got the rest. "

There were some whom pain kept quiet. One man near me had an arrowhead in his shoulder. They had cut down for it in the field, but could not draw it out; the wound was festering, and was to be searched that day. He had been dead silent a long while, before the surgeon came with his tools and servant. The others called awkward words of cheer, and fell silent too.

He bore it well at first, but soon began to groan, then to cry out; before long he struggled, and the servant had to hold him down. Just then a shadow crossed the doorway; someone came in and knelt beside the bed. At once the man was quiet, but for a hissing of his breath between his teeth. " Hold on, Straton, it'll be quicker then. Hold on. " I knew the voice; it was the King's.

He stayed down there, taking the place of the doctor's servant. The man never cried again, though the probe was deep in the wound. The arrowhead came out; he gave a deep sigh, between relief and triumph. The King said, " Look what you had in you. I never saw a man bear it better. " The wounded man said, " We've seen one, Alexander. " There was a murmur of assent around the tent.

He laid a hand on the good shoulder, and stood up, his fresh white tunic all dirtied with blood and matter which the wound had spurted. I thought he would go to make himself presentable, but he just said to the surgeon, who was dressing the wound, " Don't trouble with me. " A tall hunting-dog, which had sat quiet by the entry, got up and padded at his heel. He looked about him, and came towards my corner. I saw great red fingerweals on his upper arm. The wounded man must have been clutching at him— the sacred person of a king!

There was a common, wooden stool, used by the wound-dressers. He picked it up, himself, with his own hand, and came to sit beside me. The dog started to nose me over. " Down, Peritas. Sit, " he said. " I hope dogs are not a pollution in your part of the world, as they are among the Jews? "

" No, my lord, " I said, trying to believe all this was happening. " We honor them in Persia. They neither break faith, we say, nor do they lie. "

" A good saying. You hear that, Peritas? But how are you, boy? You look clapped-out. Have you been drinking bad water? "

" I don't know, my lord. "

" Always ask about the water. Mostly, down in the plains, it's better in wine. Worse water, more wine. I've had your trouble. Sicker than a dog, and then a flux. You, too, I can see from the way your eyes are sunken. How many times today? "

I recovered my speech and told him; he was fast making me proof against any shock. " That's no joke, " he said. " Drink plenty, we've good water here. Nothing to eat but slops. I know a good infusion, but the herbs don't grow here; I must find out what the natives use. Look after yourself, boy, I'm missing you at dinner. " He stood up, the dog doing so too. " I'll be here awhile; take no notice if you want to go outside. None of your Persian formality. I know what it is to be kept about, when you're doubled up for a crap. "

He strolled on to another bed with his wooden stool. I was so stunned that I had to go out almost at once.

When he had left, I slid my hand-mirror from the purse under my pillow, and peered at it behind the blanket. I look dreadful, I thought, and he said so too. Did he truly mean he was missing me at dinner? No, he had a good word for everyone. You look clapped-out, he said.

I became aware of a youngish veteran, tough and big-boned, growling at me. Had he seen the mirror? " Please speak Greek, " I said. " I don't understand Macedonian. "

" Now, maybe, you know how he felt about the hospital at Issos. "

" Issos? " I must have been thirteen. " I know nothing about a hospital. "

" Then I'll tell you now. Your people cut in at Issos when the King had marched beyond it; he turned back there to fight the battle. Meantime, he'd left the sick there, in a tent like this. And your royal whore-master, who ran like a goat before Alexander's spear, was so brave with men too weak to stand on their feet, he had them cut up in bed alive. They. . . well, I suppose you know all about such things. I was there when we found them. If they'd been only barbarians, it would still have made me sick. There were one or two left living; both hands off at the wrists and the stumps seared. I saw Alexander's face. We all thought he'd do the same the first chance he had, and we'd all have helped. But no, he had too much pride. Now my anger's cooled, I'm glad of it. So you can he there safe, snugged up with your bowl of gruel. "

I said, " I did not know. I am sorry. " Then I lay down, and pulled up the blanket. Your royal whore-master. Each time he had run away, I had thought,

Who am I to judge? But now I judged him. Had it been coward's cruelty, or was he taking his ease, uncaring? Small odds. I was sad already with sickness; now this shame. I, who had given myself consequence because a king had chosen me! He had not done even that; some pander had done it for him. I covered myself like a corpse, and gave myself up to grief.

Through the blanket and my sobs, I heard someone saying, " See there what you've done. The boy's half dead; now you've put him in a convulsion. They're not made like us, you fool. You'll be sorry if he dies of it. The King fancies that boy, I could see it with half an eye. "

The next thing I knew, a heavy hand grasped my shoulder, and the first man (who should never have left his bed) told me not to take it so much to heart, it was no fault of mine. He pressed a fig into my hand, which I had sense enough not to eat; but I pretended to. The fever rose and burned in me. It scorched up even my tears.

It was sharp, but short. Even after we had been carted on wagons to the next camp, I mended, though most of the wounded had setbacks. The man with the arrow wound died on the way. His shoulder mortified. In his delirium he called upon the King; the man beside me murmured that even Alexander had not yet conquered death.

The young heal quickly. Next time we moved camp, I was fit to ride.

There had been changes in my short absence. From a group of the Companion Cavalry, the cream of the highborn Macedonians, a voice called to me in Persian, " Here, Bagoas! Say something for me in Greek. " I could not credit my senses. It was Prince Oxathres, Darius' brother.

Being one of the fair Persians, he did not look strange among Macedonians, though taller and handsomer than any of them. He was not with the Companions by chance. Alexander had enrolled him.

At Issos, they had fought hand to hand before the royal chariot. They had met too over Darius' embassy, when Tyre had fallen. They had felt each other's quality. And now that Bessos had put on the Hood, rather than see his brother's murderer on his throne, Oxathres preferred Alexander, who would help him with his blood-feud.

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