“What do you mean?” cried Alexander. “Where is he? How does he fare?”
“Sire,” said Bagistanes, for that was the Persian’s name, “he is king no longer.”
“And who has presumed to depose him?” said Alexander, flushing with rage. “Who is it that gives and takes away kingdoms at his pleasure?”
“Sire,” replied Bagistanes, “since the day when King Darius fled from the field of Arbela——”
The speaker paused, and looked doubtfully at the queen. It was impossible to tell the truth without implying blame of the king, who had in so cowardly a fashion betrayed his army.
“Speak on,” said Sisygambis. “I have learnt to bear it.”
“Since that day, then,” resumed Bagistanes, “the king has had enemies who would have taken from him the Crown of Persia. Bessus, Satrap of Bactria, conspired with other nobles against their master. They consulted whether they should not deliver him to you, and had done so, but that they doubted whether you were one that rewarded traitors. Then they resolved to take him with them in their flight eastward, and in his name to renew the war.”
“But had he no friends?” asked the king.
“Yes, he had friends, but they were too weak to resist, nor would the king trust himself to them. Patron, who commanded the Greeks that are still left to him, warned him of his danger, but to no purpose. ‘If my own people desert me,’ he said, ‘I will not be defended by foreigners.’ And Patron, who indeed had but fifteen hundred men with him—for only so many are left out of the fifty thousand Greeks who received the king’s pay four years ago—Patron could do nothing. Then Artabazus tried what he could do. ‘If you do not trust these men because they are foreigners, yet I am a Persian of the Persians. Will you not listen to me?’ The king bade him speak, and Artabazus gave him the same advice that Patron had given. ‘Come with us, for there are some who are still faithful to you, into the Greek camp. That is your only hope.’ The king refused. ‘I stay with my own people,’ he said. That same day Patron and his Greeks marched off, and Artabazus went with him. My companion and I thought that we could better serve our master by remaining, and we stayed. That night Bessus surrounded the king’s tent with soldiers—some Bactrian savages, who know no master but the man who pays them—and laid hands on him, bound him with chains of gold, and carried him off in a covered chariot, closely guarded by Bactrians. We could not get speech with him; but we went a day’s journey with the traitors, in order to find out what direction they were going to take. We halted that night at a village, the headman of which I knew to be a faithful fellow—in fact, he is my foster-brother. He gave us these disguises, and we got off very soon after it was dark. Probably we were not pursued; the start was too great. This is what we have come to tell you.”