“Hark you!” exclaimed Cambyses. “Hear those cries! They acclaim Bardya King! Did you not swear to me that my brother was dead?”
“I did swear, O King!” answered Prexaspes, coolly. “Here was my authority to slay him.”
He drew a paper from his tunic and deliberately handed it unrolled to the Prince, who glanced at it. It was the order of King Cambyses to slay Bardya. The King’s face grew livid with wrath.
“Thus commanded,” continued Prexaspes, “I rode with Bardya along the Rhages road after leaving the hall where the King gave a feast in his honor. I returned and reported that I had slain Bardya with a sword-stroke from behind. But he died not, it seems. Why should I have the blood of kings on my hands?”
The Prince studied the Mede’s face with growing rage. The latter’s bold gaze fell before the accusing fury of the Prince’s eyes. The King seemed speechless. The Prince smote his hands together, and burst forth: “By the living God, you both deserve the death of murderers! Why should I interfere with the wrath of God? You lie, Prexaspes! I know the truth!”
He cast the order at the King’s feet and without ceremony turned and left the tent. The King turned upon Prexaspes with maniacal fury.
“Villain! Dog!” he screamed. “Why show that order? You know that my only hope depends on the Prince! Now you have turned him from me! You shall be skinned alive! Your heart shall be cut out and given to swine! You shall hang on a stake!”
Prexaspes laughed and snapped his fingers in the King’s face.
“I fear you not, foul beast!” he shouted. “Your day has come, as comes the day of every villain, whether crowned or not! Am I to die? I know it. I read death in the eyes of the Prince. I also read your death there, son of Ahriman! Listen! You slew my son, in cruel sport, one day. The arrow that cleft his brain killed my loyalty to you. I know a lingering death awaits you at Hamadan or I would myself slay you now!”
For a moment the King was so astonished as to be speechless. Then, roaring inarticulate curses, he sought for his sword. But it was not at his side. He rushed about the tent searching for it. Prexaspes, laughing derisively, disappeared through the rear door. The King presently found a long dagger in a pile of armor and with it rushed out after Prexaspes. But though he searched through the servants’ quarters, he did not find him. He returned to his pavilion and after pacing back and forth a moment went out in front of his quarters, uncertain what course to pursue.