Again he fell silent, with closed eyes and pallid face turned to the dim light of the lamps which hung from the ridge-pole by chains, flaring in the currents of air and swinging to and fro as the tent rocked under the shocks of the mighty wind.

Rousing himself again, he continued: “I feel that my spirit will soon depart. When it does, I lay upon you the task of conveying my body to Pasargadæ, where you shall deposit it in a suitable tomb. Take half of the Guard with you. Leave the remainder here with the King, your father, who must finish the work I have begun and establish fortresses along this river so that never again may the Touranians recover the land we have conquered, or further molest Iran. Let my body be entombed after the fashion of our fathers. Take a message to Bardya and say that I have blessed him. Restrain him with your advice, that he do not rebel and bring on war with his brother. Take my love and blessing to Athura and Artistone. Into your care I give Athura. May long years of happiness be yours! But I am very weary and I would sleep. Sit here by me. It is pleasant to know that you are near!”

The King closed his eyes and sank into a stupor. The Prince bent his head upon his hands and silently wept. Presently becoming calmer, he sat still in meditation, listening to the irregular breathing of the sufferer. After a while he also slept, with his head resting on his arms, which were folded across his knees. The hours went by, while the great wind continued to bellow around and to whip the awnings of the pavilion and while the life of the Great King slowly flickered out. Darius was awakened by the surgeons, who, alarmed at the long silence in the sick-room, had come in to look at the King.

“Great Cyrus is dead!” he heard one of them say.

CHAPTER III
PREXASPES

CYRUS, the Great King, had been conquered by a greater King. The generals and nobles of his army gathered in solemn council on the day following his death. The King of Iran presided. On him, as upon an anchor in a storm, the others depended; and it was in the hearts of many to declare him successor to the mighty dead. There was no love in their hearts towards Cambyses, the heir. His open contempt for their ancient customs and religion and his erratic and brutal disposition had not attracted them. The army had given the throne and his distinctive eminence as King of Kings to Cyrus; it could give them to another, now that he was gone, in spite of his expressed will.

At the right hand of the King stood the Prince, his son, his eyes heavy with sorrow. Otanes, Gobryas, Hydarnes, Vomisces, and a score of Persians of lesser note were there; and also Prexaspes, the Mede.

As usual Prexaspes was carefully dressed; he was ornate in golden, jewel-set armor and half enveloped in a silken cloak, the famous Medean robe. His hair and beard were curled and perfumed. He moved with exaggerated grace and carried his fine head haughtily. His brothers-in-arms could ill conceal their contempt for his foppish manners. They were rough, ready men, straight of look and direct of speech. They loved not an Aryan who copied the manners of Babylon and Nineveh and, as they suspected, the vices of those ultra-civilized peoples. But they knew that Prexaspes was a brave and able commander of horse and on that account ignored his manners. He was a fair sample of the higher classes of Medes, who, residing on the borders of the more effeminate peoples of the great Mesopotamian valley, had been infected by their manners and customs.

The Medes, in the former days, when they had conquered the lands now occupied by them, had been sturdy, simple people. Centuries of intercourse with the Assyrians and Babylonians had materially changed their qualities and had not only affected their dress and manner of living, but had injected into their ancient religion, which was a monotheistic creed, new ideas that were polytheistic, much to the indignation of their brethren of Persia and Bactra who still clung to the ancient faith. The Medes had permitted the fire-worshipers of the northern provinces to practice their occult arts and had to some extent adopted those practices. There had, as a consequence, grown up a priest class of Magi, or seers, wise men, prophets, who claimed to communicate with the gods of hill, mountain, and plain, and who did undeniably work wonders that could not be duplicated by the priests in the Aryan temples, and thereby not only discomfited the latter in the eyes of the people, but impressed the rulers of Medea in their favor.

It was said that Prexaspes was a follower of the Magi, but on that subject he adroitly avoided conversation. Cyrus, whose policy had ever been to conciliate those he conquered, had recognized the military ability of Prexaspes and had forborne to examine closely into his creed or his manner of life. In return the latter had given him faithful service and had been extremely useful in dealing with the Medean nobility and in recruiting for the army.