What had Persia to fear from the handful of peasants turned soldiers who had made a boy their king? Why should Darius feel any uneasiness concerning the projects of a rash young man who already owed more than he could pay? To be sure, he had made himself the Hegemon of Hellas, with the exception of Sparta, but everybody knew that he had forced the older states to bestow the title upon him against their will and that they were waiting only until his back should be turned to fall upon him. With the slender resources at his command, how could he hope to hold Greece in subjection and at the same time to subdue an empire which had more Hellenic mercenaries alone upon its pay-roll than the sum total of his entire army? Surely, the Great King must be himself despised if he did not look with contempt upon such mad ambition.
Something of the force of this reasoning assailed the mind of Clearchus as he lay down that night on the hard pallet that had been assigned to him by Ptolemy in the barracks of the Companion Cavalry. The immensity of the obstacles to be overcome oppressed him, and he began once more to doubt whether, after all, there could be any hope of success for the young king. He fell asleep, to see in his dreams the pale face of Artemisia framed in her unbound hair.
His mind was still clouded with misgiving when he went next morning with Chares and Leonidas to pay his respects at the palace; but they were dispelled like mists before the morning sun when he stood face to face with Alexander. In the inspiring presence of the young leader no doubts could live. He radiated confidence as a fire radiates warmth. Every glance of his sympathetic eyes, every tone of his voice, revealed a certainty of the future that was beyond peradventure.
The palace was the centre of the activity that was filling the city. Generals and captains, agents, princes, hostages, ambassadors, and messengers swarmed in its halls. Here stood the gray-haired Antipater, who had been appointed by Alexander regent of Macedon and guardian of Greece during his absence, talking with citizens of Corinth who had come to consult him concerning proposed changes in their civil government. There was old Parmenio, fresh from his campaign in Mysia, giving his orders for the disposition of a company of mercenaries who had arrived that morning.
There were travellers from the Far East, who had been summoned to tell what they knew of the cities, rivers, and mountains through which the Macedonian march would lie and of the character of the peoples who were to be encountered. There were contractors for horses and supplies anxious to provide the army with subsistence. There were soothsayers and philosophers, slaves, attendants, and courtiers; and among them all, with banter, jest, and laughter, walked the young nobles of Macedon, bosom friends of the king, who had defied Philip for his sake and were now reaping their reward. There were Hephæstion, son of Amyntas, Philotas, son of Parmenio, Clitus, Crateras, Polysperchon, Demetrius, Ptolemy, and a score of others, in spirits as brave as their attire, as though they were about to start upon a holiday excursion instead of a desperate venture into the unknown.
Alexander recognized the three friends immediately and gave them cordial greeting.
"So you have come to follow the Whirlwind," he said, laughing, as though the simile pleased him. "It will soon be launched now."
"We have come to take any service that you may give us," Chares replied.
"You are enrolled in the Companion Cavalry," Alexander informed them.
They gave him their thanks for this mark of favor, for the Companions contained the flower of the kingdom, young men of distinguished families, who were admitted freely into Alexander's confidence as his friends.