Leonidas had risen high in the favor of the young king, who had seen his courage tested in the winter campaign. He had become one of the Table Companions, with command of a squadron of cavalry, and even the proud young Macedonian nobles, jealous of intrusion, had ceased to look down upon him as an outsider and had taken him into their circle. Of all the stories told in the camp, none was more often repeated than that which related how the Spartan had held the light-armed troops when they were taken in ambush by the fierce mountaineers before Salagassus, until Alexander could lead the phalanx to their rescue.

But Leonidas showed no elation. On the contrary, he seemed more grim and taciturn than ever. Gladly would he have given both favor and command if he could have seen Clearchus and Chares ride into camp unharmed. Since they started for Halicarnassus, he had heard nothing of them, and it was the general opinion in the army that they were lost. The Spartan had few friends and none to take the place of these two. His grief for them was the deeper because he would not show it. Though it gnawed at his heart like the stolen fox, he gave no sign. One night, at table, the jest turned upon Amyntas, who had purchased gilded armor.

"You are as vain as Chares the Theban," one of the Thessalian officers said to him, laughing.

Leonidas sought the man out next day. "You have insulted my friend, who is not here. I think you are sorry for it," he said quietly.

The young captain laughed, looking down upon the Spartan from his six feet of stature.

"You think too much," he replied contemptuously.

With a bound, Leonidas caught him by the throat in a grip that was like that of a bulldog's jaws. In vain the Thessalian sought to break his hold. His face grew black and his tongue protruded.

"I think you are sorry," Leonidas repeated coolly.

The other, feeling his senses leaving him, made an affirmative motion, and the hands that gripped his throat relaxed.

"Thou shouldst speak no ill of those who cannot answer," the Spartan said, turning away and leaving the young man to recover his breath.