FEINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMEB1CA 25 страница

His greatest trouble was getting no news of the fleet. Along that dreadful coast, he'd been able to leave them nothing. They were long overdue; if they perished, he would take it on himself forever.

Krateros and his throng arrived; our camp was once more a city. Roxane was in good health. Alexander paid his respects without delay, though he left again without much delay either.

I fell in with Ismenios, asking about for news of me. We took wine under a tavern awning, and exchanged our tales. " I always knew, " he said, " that your bones were beautiful, but you must put a little more on them. But, Bagoas, the King! He looks—not older, I suppose —worn out. "

" Oh, he's building up, " I answered quickly. " You should have seen him a month ago. " And I spoke of other things.

Just after, the governor of the district up the coast came posting by chariot, to say the fleet was safe, and Niarchos would be here directly.

Alexander lit up as if he'd slept for a week, and gave the governor presents. Nobody knew that this man, being as stupid as greedy, had offered them no help to lay up their ships, nor given them transport; just rushed off with his news lest anyone should get the reward before him. Days passed; Alexander sent out an escort but it found no seamen. The governor, still at court, was suspect and put under open arrest; Alexander looked more careworn than before, but sent out another escort. On the second day, it brought back two gnarled wizened men, their bodies like rawhide thongs, tanned almost black: Niarchos and his first officer. The escort had not known them, even when they asked for Alexander.

He came forward to embrace his boyhood friend, and wept. Seeing their state, he supposed them the sole survivors. When Niarchos told him the whole fleet was safe, he cried again for joy.

They'd had many hardships and adventures, which are all in Niarchos' book. Kretans are tough; he lived to campaign for years and write his memoirs. If you want to hear of huge whales who flee from the sound of trumpets, or the beastly lives of the Fish-Eaters, you can go to him.

He and his men were feted; Alexander began to look something like himself again. He entertained his friends and honored the gods with festivals; and the revels followed. A whole crowd of entertainers had come in Krateros' convoy; things could be done in style.

There were games, of course. The riding-events were mostly won by Persians; the foot-races by Greeks, who are fonder of using their legs. (Alexander had given me two fine Karmanian horses. ) Thracians won the archery. All the allies got a chance to shine. But we were almost in Persis now; when I saw him look with liking on my people's graces, I knew he was one of us.

The plays came next; all very Greek. Masks still came strange to me. When I confessed to Alexander that I'd sooner see the faces, he said he would agree if the face was mine. In this last month, I'd been teaching him once more to embrace delight, instead of pain. His very body felt different, strained into a habit of endurance. A little tending was what he needed; he looked years younger, when I'd loosened him up.

After the drama, the music contests. The day after that, the dancing.

There were nine or ten of us, from everywhere between Greece and India; some very good. This won't be my day, I thought; I'll just dance for him. If he likes it, that's prize enough.

I had just come from where water stood for joy. I wore white striped with green, and started with little tinkling finger-bells for the mountain stream. Then the river flashed and twisted, and took great leaps for the rapids; flowed in slow bends; and sank down, stretching out its arms for the sea's embrace.

Well, it was as he liked it. But it seemed all the army had liked it too. Considering how good some of the rest had been, I was amazed at the noise.

The Indian, who came last, I thought a serious rival; he did Krishna with a flute; and the boy from Susa was very polished indeed. To tell the truth, I have never been too sure about that contest. If I was no better than the runners-up, I daresay I was no worse; and, as always, Alexander did not direct the judges. But the army did.

It was for him, of course. I don't think I was badly liked; I did not flaunt myself, nor intrigue, nor sell my influence. I'd been with him a long time now; I expect it touched them to see how his love endured. He had suffered; they wanted to see him happy; they had watched his face as I danced. They did it for him.

The crown was of gold olive-sprays with sheet-gold ribbons. He put it on me, and stroked the ribbons to fall into my hair, and said softly, " Beautiful. Don't go, sit here by me. " I sat on the edge of the dais by his chair; we smiled at one another. The army clapped and stamped; a someone with a voice of Stentor yelled, " Go on! Give him a kiss! "

I looked down, confused. This was going too far, I wasn't sure how he'd take it. They were shouting it all round the theater now. I felt him touch my shoulder. They had been with him a long time, too; he could tell affection from insolence. He drew me up into his arms, and gave me two firm kisses. To judge from the applause, they liked it better than the dancing.

It is as well that Persian ladies do not attend public spectacles, as Greek ones do. I have always thought it a most immodest custom.

That night he said to me, " You've won back all your beauty from the desert, or even more. " Well, that's not so hard, at twenty-two, when you have never had a wound. He meant that it was good at last to feel a little life left to spare in him, at the end of the day.

I made him happy, without putting too much tax on it; how was my secret, he never knew the difference. He was content, which was all that mattered to me just then, and fell asleep straight after.

When I rose, the cover slipped away, but he did not stir. I lifted the lamp and looked at him. He lay on his side. His back was smooth as a boy's, his wounds were all in front. There was no weapon devised to cut, or pierce, or fling, that had not left its mark on him. His body was white against his sun-scorched limbs; it was long since he'd run in the ball-court naked with his friends, which had once so shocked me. In his side, the knotted scar dragged on his ribs; even now in his first sleep, his brow was not quite smooth. His eyelids were wrinkled, old in the face of a boy at rest. His hair shone paler than it used when lamplight fell on it; the threads of silver had turned to streaks, since we marched into Gedrosia. He was thirty-one.

I reached to pull up the cover. But I had to draw back, lest my tears should fall and wake him.

o rest the desert troops, he sent them under Hephaistion by the coast roads to Persia; it would be mild there when winter came. He himself, as always, had work to do. With a small force, mostly cavalry, he went straight up country, to Pasargadai and Persepolis.

Had I been with Darius in time of peace, I should have known these places, the royal heartland of my country. It was Alexander who knew them. When we were up in the hills, he took me for an early ride, to taste, as he said, the clean air of Persia once again. I breathed it and said, " Al'skander, we are home. "

" Truly. I too. " He looked towards the folded ranges, whose peaks had had the first snowfalls. " I'd say this only to you; shut it in your heart. Macedon was my father's country. This is mine. "

I answered, " You never gave me a greater gift than that. "

A fresh wind blew from the heights; the breath of our horses steamed in it. He said, " In Pasargadai, we shall lie in Kyros' own house. Strange that you're of his tribe, yet it will be I who'll show you his tomb. I've trouble to deal with thereabouts; but that's one thing I look forward to. Lucky we're both slim; the doorway's so narrow, even you will have to go sideways. They must have walled it half up against robbers, since they brought in that great gold coffin; it wouldn't go through now. His grave-offerings are still on the dais around it; you shall see his swords, the very clothes he wore, and his jeweled necklaces. They gifted him well, they must have loved him. I added something too; he taught me what it means to be a king. " His horse fidgeted, tired of walking. " Behave, " he said, " or Kyros shall have you... I left orders to sacrifice one horse a month to him; they said that was the ancient custom. "

Then we gave them their heads and galloped. His face was glowing, his hair flicked in the wind, his eyes lit up. When he told me, after, that he'd felt no more than a stitch in his ribs, I half believed him. Persis had done him good. I thought, Happiness begins again.

Kyros' palace was fine and spacious in its old simple way; solid, of black and white stone. The white columns stood out a landmark. Next morning early, Alexander set out to revisit the hero's tomb.

It was a short ride, through the royal park. A few friends came too (many had gone on with Hephaistion) but he kept me by him. The park had run wild, but was lovely in the gold of autumn; the game, so long unhunted, hardly heeded our passing. The tomb stood in a grove of shade-trees. Alexander had had water channeled there last time he came, and the grass was green.

Kyros' little house stood on a stepped plinth, a simple colonnade around it. Persian words were engraved over the door, which I could not read. Alexander said " I asked about that last time. It says, man, i am kyros son of kambyses, who founded the empire of persia and ruled over asia. do not grudge me my memorial. " His voice shook a moment. " Well, let's go in. "

He beckoned the guardian Magi of the precinct. When first they came to prostrate themselves, I had thought they looked unhappy; the place was ill-kept and overgrown. He motioned them to unlock the door. It was narrow, very old, and made of some dark wood clasped with bronze. One Magus brought on his shoulder the great wooden key. It moved the bolt quite easily. He opened the door, and withdrew into the distance.

" Come, Bagoas, " said Alexander smiling. " You first; he was your King. " He took my hand; we edged into the shadows. The only light was from the door; I stood by him, my eyes dulled from the sun outside, smelling ancient spices and mold. Suddenly he snatched away his hand and strode forward. " Who has done this? " Moving to follow him, I struck my foot on something. It was the thigh-bone of a man.

I could see now. There stood the dais, stripped bare. The gold coffin lay lidless on the floor, hacked with axes to break off pieces that would go through the doorway. Scattered beside it were the bones of Kyros the Great.

The entry darkened and lightened, as Peukestas, a biggish man, tried to get in and withdrew before he stuck. Alexander clambered fiercely into the sunshine. He was white with rage; the peak of his hair had risen. His eyes had looked less deadly when he struck down Kleitos. " Call the wardens, " he said.

They were fetched from their house nearby, while anyone who could squeeze inside the tomb described the desecration to those without. Alexander stood with clenched hands. The wardens were flung at his feet, and groveled.

I interpreted, being the only other Persian there. Though of the priestly race, they seemed ignorant men, and terror made them foolish. They knew nothing, they had never entered the tomb, they had seen no one approach it, the thieves must have come by night (when their axes would have made a noise to wake the dead). They knew nothing, nothing at all.

" Take them to the prison, " Alexander said. " I will have the truth. "

He took me, to interpret their confessions. But neither fire nor pincers could change their story; nor could the rack; Alexander had it stopped before they were disjointed. " What do you think? " he said to me. " Are they lying or not? "

" I think, Alexander, they have just been negligent, and are afraid to tell you. Perhaps they got drunk, or left the precinct. Maybe someone planned it. "

" Yes, perhaps. If so they have had their punishment. Let them go. "

They hobbled off, glad to get away so lightly. Any Persian king would have had them impaled.

Alexander sent for the architect, Aristoboulos, who'd been with him at his first visit and inventoried Kyros' grave-goods. He was to repair the coffin, and rehouse the poor bones in proper state. So Kyros lies in gold again, and owns precious swords, though not those he fought with, and rich necklaces, though not the ones he wore. Alexander gave him a golden crown; then ordered the door walled up with a single slab, so that he should not be disturbed again. He was in there alone, before the masons started, saying farewell to his teacher.

A harsh welcome back to Persis. But harsher followed. Now he learned what had been done by men he'd left in trust, who had hoped he would never call them to account

Some had been faithful; but some had set up like tyrants in the lands left to their charge; had plundered the rich, taxed the peasants to skin and bone, worked off old grudges on men who'd broken no law; enrolled themselves private armies. One Median lord had proclaimed himself Great King. One satrap had dragged from a lesser lord his maiden daughter, raped her, and passed her on to a slave.

I have heard it said that Alexander treated these people harshly. Tell that to someone who never saw what I did, when I was ten, and the soldiers came to my home.

True, he grew hard, as proof after proof came in. True, after some time of this he punished beginnings. He said he'd learned the look of a budding tyrant, and what came after; and would depose them for showing the early signs. Whoever complained, it was not the peasants, nor the small lords of my father's kind. That he would not let even his own race oppress our people was a wonder everywhere. He had been gone so long, they'd forgotten what he was like.

While he was away, one of the dearest friends of his childhood, a certain Harpalos, whom he'd left as treasurer at Babylon, had lived on the gold like a prince of India, set up his courtesans like queens, and fled with a load of money at the news of Alexander's return. This hurt him far more than the revolt of former enemies. " We all trusted him; Hephaistion too, who never trusted Philotas. In exile he could always make us laugh. Of course, I had nothing then for him to steal. Perhaps he didn't know himself what he really was. "

All in all, he had enough to make him angry, before the new satrap of Persis obeyed his summons.

He was new because he had seized the satrapy. The Persian Alexander gave it to had died half a year before; of sickness it was said, though maybe of something he ate. Now envoys came with gifts, and a long letter, declaring the usurper had sent messages to Alexander, but getting no answer, had been looking after the province meanwhile, knowing of no one more fit to do it.

I was in his upper room with him when he read this letter, and threw it down. " Fit to do murder, robbery and worse. He has ruled this province like a wolf in winter; I've heard it everywhere. Any man who crossed him, put to death without trial. He's looted even the royal sepulchers. " His brows came together; he was remembering Kyros. Perhaps indeed the Magi had kept silent because of someone they feared more than the King. " Well, I've witnesses enough already. Let him come; I shall like to see this Orxines... Bagoas, what's the matter? "

" Nothing, Al’skander. I don't know. I don't know where I've heard that name. " It had been like some echo from a nightmare forgotten on waking.

" Was he cruel to you when you were with Darius? Let me know, if you remember anything. "

" No, " I said. " No one was cruel there. " Of my life before, I'd only told him that I had been bought by a jeweler who ill-used me. The rest, he would only have pitied; but I'd wished to bury it, to forget forever. Now I asked myself if this Orxines could have been some hated client; but his rank was too high; and the horror was even deeper. Perhaps I just dreamed it, I thought; I had bad dreams when I was a slave.

That night, Alexander said to me, " Did they build this bed for elephants? Stay and keep me company. " It was years since he'd slept in a Persian royal bedchamber. We fell asleep quite soon. Dreams flung me into a terror long forgotten. My own scream woke me. It was the dead of night. Alexander was holding me to him. " See, you're with me, all's well. Whatever did you dream of? "

I clung to him wildly, like the child I had just been. " My father. My father without his nose. " Suddenly I sat straight up in bed. " The name! I remember the name! "

" What name? " He looked up; he was always very serious about dreams.

" The name he told me, when they dragged him away to kill him. 'Orxines, ' that was what he said. 'Remember the name. Orxines. ' "

" Lie down, and be quiet a little. You know, I told you today Orxines was a villain. I expect that gave you the dream. "

" No. I remember how he said it. His voice was different, because his nose was gone. " I shivered. He covered me up and warmed me.

Presently he said, " It's not such a common name, but there may be others. Would you know this man again? "

" There was one lord from Persepolis. If that was he, I'll know him. "

" Listen. Be near when I give him audience. I’ll say to you, 'Bagoas, have you written that letter? ' If it's not the man, say no, and go out. If it is, say yes, and stay; and I promise you, he shall know you before he dies. We owe it to your father's spirit. "

" That was his last wish, that I'd avenge him. "

" You loved him. In that, at least, you were fortunate. . . Come, sleep. He knows you have heard himnow, he will not trouble you. "

Next day the satrap came in state, as if confirmed in the rank already. He advanced to the throne, where Alexander sat in his Persian robes, and made the prostration gracefully. He had always had polished manners. His beard was grey now, and he'd grown a paunch. He made a tasteful speech about his seizure of the satrapy, all for the sake of good order and the King.

Alexander listened calmly, then beckoned me. " Bagoas, did you write that letter I spoke of? "

I answered, " Yes, lord King. You may be sure of it. "

So I was there to hear him charged with his many murders. Strange that I only remembered him as my father's friend whom everyone trusted. He seemed the same man still, so amazed to hear such things about himself that I almost doubted them, till Alexander took him by surprise with something proven. Then his face grew horrible; I would not have known him.

He was tried soon after. The kin of his victims testified; many in rags, their fathers having been killed for their estates. Then came the guardians of the royal tombs of Persepolis, those who had not resisted; the rest were dead. Darius the Great had given him the most loot, but he'd done well with Xerxes, and had robbed my own dead master of his modest grave-goods; he seemed surprised at Alexander's minding that. Of stripping Kyros' bones he could not be convicted, since there were no witnesses; but it made no difference.

Alexander said at the end, " You chose yourself to be shepherd of your people. If you had been a good one, you would have left here with honor. You have been a beast of prey, and you shall die like one. Take him away... Bagoas, speak to him if you wish. "

As they were leading him off, I touched his arm. Even then, he had contempt to spare for a eunuch. I said, " Do you remember Artembares son of Araxis, your friend and host, whom you betrayed when King Arses died? I am his son. "

I'd doubted it would mean much to him, after all the rest. But he had enough pride of birth to feel it. He flung off my hand; if he could, he would have stamped me underfoot. " Do I owe all this to you, then? I should have thought to buy your favor. Well, old times come round again. A eunuch rules. "

Alexander said, " A eunuch shall hang you, since he is the better man. Bagoas, I leave it in your charge. See it done tomorrow. "

I had nothing, really, to do; the captain whose usual work it was saw to it all, and only turned to me for the order to hoist him up. He kicked and writhed, on the high gallows against the wide sky of Pasargadai. I was ashamed to find it distasteful and take so little pleasure in it; it was disloyal to my father, and ungrateful to Alexander. I prayed in my heart, " Dear Father, forgive me that I am not a warrior, and have embraced my destiny. Accept this man through whom you died, and who robbed you of your son's sons. Give me your blessing. " He must have given it; for he never again returned to me in dreams.

Ptolemy has only put in his book that Orxines was hanged " by certain persons, under Alexander's orders. " I expect he thinks it showed some loss of dignity, to have brought me forward. Never mind. He does not know of the night, while I was still a boy, when my lord drew the story out of me. He was very true to his promises, as Ptolemy himself has written.

He gave the satrapy to Peukestas, who had saved his life in the Mallian city. After Orxines, no one blamed him for not appointing a Persian; but he did the nearest thing. Peukestas had come to love the land; he understood us, and liked our way of living, even our clothes, which he was well made to wear; he had often practiced his Persian on me. He ruled the province well, as much loved as Orxines had been hated.

We rode on to Persepolis. Alexander would have been there all this while, if there'd been a palace for him. Far off from the Royal Road we saw on the broad terrace the blackened ruins. He pitched his tent in open country outside; and I slipped away, to see what was left of the splendors Boubakes had wept for.

Already sand was drifted deep on the royal stairway, where the cavalcade of the lords had ridden. The sculpted warriors on the frieze marched up towards the roofless throne room, where only the sun held court between columns carved like flowers. Charred beams littered the harem; in its walled garden, a few tangled roses grew in a bed of cinders. I went back, and said nothing of where I'd been. A long time had gone by, since that feast of young men with torches.

At night he said, " Well, Bagoas, but for me we'd be better lodged tonight. "

" Don't mourn for it now, Al'skander. You will build something better, and hold the feast as Kyros did. "

He smiled. But he was brooding about Kyros' tomb; he was a great one for omens. Now these bones of grandeur, black and ragged against an angry sunset, revived his grief.

" Remember, " I said to him, " how once you told me the blaze was godlike, an upward waterfall? How the tables were set with flame? " And I was going to add, " No fire without ash, Al'skander. " But a shadow brushed me, and I closed my mouth on it.

We marched on towards Susa, where we were to meet Hephaistion's army. It grew cold in the passes, but the air was sweet and the great spaces stirred my heart. Alexander was happy too; he had some new plan, which he was not telling me yet. I felt him spark with it, and awaited his good time.

But one evening he came in looking troubled, and said, " Kalanos is sick. "

" Kalanos? He's never ill. He was even well in the desert. "

" I sent for him this evening; I felt like a talk with him. He sent back asking me to go to him. "

" He sent for you? " Imust admit, it shocked me.

" As a friend. I went, of course. He was sitting as he always does at his meditations, only propped against a tree. He usually gets up when I come, though he knows he needn't. But he asked me to sit down by him, because his legs had failed. "

" I've not seen him since Persepolis. How did he march today? "

" Someone lent him a donkey. Bagoas, he looks his age. When first he came to me, I'd no notion how old he was, or I'd never have taken him from his home. A man of seventy can't change all his bodily habits without harm. He'd lived for years in peace, every day the same. "

" He came for love of you. He says your fates were joined in some other life. He says... " I paused, having run on too fast. He looked up, saying, " Come, Bagoas. " At last I answered, " He says you're a fallen god. "

He was sitting naked for the bath, on the edge of his bed, with his hands on his sandal. Since first he was my lover, he'd never let me undo his shoes, unless he was wounded or dead tired, when any friend would do it. Now he sat still, his brows creased in thought. In the end he only said, as he took off his sandal, " I tried to get him to bed, but he said he must finish his meditation. I should have ordered it. But I left him there. " I understood that; it was what he'd have wished himself. " I don't like his look. He's too old to force his strength. Tomorrow I'll send a doctor. "

The doctor came back to report that Kalanos had a swelling in his entrails, and should travel in the sick-wagon. He refused, saying it would disturb his meditation, and that the foolish beast his body, if it would not obey, at least should not command him. Alexander gave him a soft-stepping horse to ride, and after each day's march went to see how he was; which was always thinner and weaker. Others went too; General Lysimachos for one was very fond of him; but sometimes Alexander would stay alone. One evening he came back so distressed that all his friends remarked it. It was not till we were alone together that he said, " He is resolved to die. "

" Al'skander, I think he is in pain, though he does not say so. "

" Pain! He wants to die by burning. "

I exclaimed in horror. It would have shocked me in the execution place at Susa. Besides, it was a pollution of holy fire.

" I felt the same. He says in his own country women do it, rather than outlive their husbands. "

" So say the men! I saw it done to a child of ten, and she wished to live. They drowned her screams with music. "

" Some do consent. He says he will not outlive his life. "

" Could he get well? "

" The doctor won't answer for him. And he won't accept a regimen... I didn't refuse him flat; he might have done it himself at once, as best he could. With every day's delay, there's just a chance he might take a better turn. I don't think so now; I think I can see the death-marks. But one thing I'm resolved on; when he goes, he goes like a king. If it's true we live many lives, he was that before. " He paced about a little, then said, " I will be there, as his friend. But I cannot watch it. "

So we reached Susa. Nothing was stranger to me than that. The Palace was just the same; even some old eunuchs, who had not marched with Darius, were still bustling about. When they learned who I was, they thought I must have been very clever.

Strangest of all was to stand again in the lamp-shadows of the golden vine, and see that head on the pillow. Even the inlaid casket was on the bed-table. I found him looking at me. He held my eyes, and stretched out his hand.

Afterwards he said, " Was it better? " He couldn't even wait to be told, supposing he'd needed telling. In some things, he was like a child.

The fountain court with its birds had been looked after. Alexander said it was just the place for Kalanos. He lay in the little room there; and each time I came to see him, he would ask me to open a cage. I hadn't the heart to tell him they were foreign birds, and might have trouble to make a living. It was his last pleasure, to watch them fly.

Hephaistion's army, with the elephants, had arrived before us. Alexander told his friends what Kalanos wanted, and ordered Ptolemy to prepare a royal pyre.

It was like a king's divan, decked with banners and garlands; underneath, it was filled with pitch and terebinth and tinder, and whatever would give the quickest and fiercest flame, mixed with Arabian incense.

In the square before the Palace, where all great ceremonies had been held since Darius the Great, the Companions stood drawn up, with the heralds and the trumpeters. On the fourth side were the elephants, newly painted, with sequinned draperies and gilded tusks. King Poros could have asked no more.

Alexander had chosen the cortege; the handsomest Persians and Macedonians on the tallest horses, in all their arms; then the offering-bearers, with grave-goods enough for a royal tomb, cloths sewn with gems and pearls, gold cups, vases of sweet oil and bowls of incense. They were to be laid on the pyre and burned with Kalanos. Alexander came in Darius' chariot, draped in white for mourning. His face looked drawn and set. I think he had devised all this magnificence, not just to honor Kalanos but to make it a little bearable.

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