In an open space behind his chariot stood a group of white-robed priests around a massive altar of silver from which rose the pale blue perfumed smoke of the eternal fire. Mithra, Darius believed, would never forsake his votaries or permit his fire to be extinguished.
"They are coming," the Great King said tranquilly, having completed his inspection. "Look, Oxathres, Baal has stricken them with madness!"
He leaned forward in his chariot, fixing his eyes upon the white plumes that his brother had said distinguished his rival. Between him and the Macedonians stood a solid barrier of men, every one of whom was ready to die if by so doing he could save his master so much as a scratch.
"If they will persist in their folly," Oxathres said, "let them come."
The Companions tore their way through the remnant of the mercenary line. Onward they came, trampling and scattering a squadron of Scyths as if their weapons had been the toys of children. They reached the Immortals. Darius drew a breath of relief. There they must stop at last.
But no! The white plumes still advanced, and behind them came a widening stream of horses and men. It seemed as though nothing could stand against them. The Immortals were scattered like chaff from a threshing-floor.
Oxathres changed color. He turned and spoke to his trumpeter. The brazen note that followed warned the nobles to make ready for a charge. The heart of many a silk-robed courtier who had been boasting all day of the deeds he would do when his chance came grew sick at the sound. The time had come.
Darius hastily dismounted from his heavy chariot, leaving his mantle behind him, and took his place in another chariot, drawn by two horses only and more easily manageable. At a sign from Oxathres, a groom advanced, leading a beautiful chestnut mare, who tossed her head with distended nostrils, neighing for her foal, which had purposely been left behind beyond the Amanic Gates in Syria. The groom took his place in silence beside the chariot.
"Shall I lead the charge?" Darius asked.
"Thy servants beg of thee not to deprive them of the glory that awaits them," Oxathres replied.