"They are asking only for the Greeks," remarked a tall Assyrian.
"Maybe our turn has come," Clearchus said.
"Clearchus of Athens!" the crier shouted. "Chares of Thebes!"
The two young men advanced and joined the waiting group.
"That is all," Boupares said, handing the lists to the scribes. "Follow me to the audience chamber."
Through the long, pillared courts and vast halls of the palace he conducted the prisoners. On every side were evidences of the expenditure of limitless wealth and measureless labor. Row after row of polished columns sprang a hundred feet to the echoing roof. Great sculptures adorned the walls. The floors were inlaid with mosaics of variegated pattern. Thousands of attendants came and went among the crowds of courtiers.
At last they arrived at the audience chamber and were admitted. Here the talk and laughter ceased and voices sank to a whisper. They were in the presence of the Great King, the most powerful and absolute of all monarchs. The walls of the lofty apartment were covered with plates of gold for half their height, and above these were paintings in which the king was depicted slaying lions in hand-to-hand combat, or driving his enemies before him in his war chariot. Between the pillars hung rich curtains of crimson, green, and violet, and the floor was hidden beneath silken carpets.
At the end of the room, under a purple canopy, stood a throne of gold and ivory, inlaid with precious stones. The perfume of myrrh and frankincense filled the air.
Standing before the throne, from which he had just arisen, the Greeks beheld Darius, the last of the Archæmenian kings. His tall, well-built figure was clad in a long Medean robe of rich silk, purple, embroidered with gold, and confined at the waist by a broad girdle of gold, from which hung his dagger in its sheath of lapis lazuli. His feet were shod in yellow shoes with long points. On his head he wore the citaris, which he alone might wear, with the royal diadem of blue and white. Jewels flashed in his ears, and about his neck hung a heavy collar of great rubies and pearls.
Never, Clearchus thought, had he seen a face more handsome and haughty than that of Darius, as he stood before his throne, with his blue eyes and light brown beard, carefully trimmed. He looked like what he was—the master of the world. His expression, although full of dignity, was slightly weary as he listened to the petition of a man who knelt before him, with bowed head, in the attitude of a suppliant.