As soon as all who had been bidden were assembled, the King of Iran addressed them briefly: “I have called you together to consider the great calamity that has befallen this army and the empire. Great Cyrus sleeps with his fathers. The decisive victory of yesterday resulted thus in greater loss to us than to the enemy. The command of this army has fallen upon me until a messenger can be sent to bring orders from Cambyses, who, by the will of his august father, succeeds to the throne of the King of Kings. It was the will of Cyrus that we hold all this country and make the Jaxartes the future boundary of Iran. It shall be done. We shall remain here until the enemy shall fully submit, and we shall build fortresses along this river. On this spot where great Cyrus departed this life, let us found a city named in honor of the Great King. It shall be a monument to his glorious victory and a bulwark of the empire. What say you?”
He paused. Otanes, upon whom the King’s eyes rested, answered: “Let it be so! Let the King’s will be law!” Nods and exclamations of assent came from the company.
The King continued: “The Great King ordered that his body be taken to Pasargadæ, there to rest in the tomb prepared by him and in which rests the body of his wife. He directed that my son take the Imperial Guard for an escort and convey his body, when embalmed, to its resting-place. This shall be done. As for me, I shall remain here until the frontier be made safe. My son shall select such of you as he desires to accompany him on his honorable mission. It will be necessary to send a special messenger to Cambyses with the Great King’s last decree. He shall travel with the Guard and my son until he reach Bactra; but then he must go more swiftly, in order that Cambyses may make fitting preparation for the funeral of his father. Who will volunteer for this service?”
Silence fell upon the company. There was no desire in any of them to greet Cambyses. They would rather have deposed him. But Prexaspes stood forth and said: “O King, if it please you, I will bear the message to Cambyses, the King of Kings.”
The King regarded Prexaspes a moment thoughtfully. He liked not this man, but he could think of no reason to deny him. He said:
“You shall go. But swear before us here that you will faithfully carry to Cambyses this decree and assure him of our support!”
“I swear!” responded Prexaspes, solemnly, lifting both hands towards the sun and turning his face to it. A frown passed over the calm features of the King. He liked not this exhibition of Mithra worship. But he made no comment, only saying:
“Say to the Great King, Cambyses, that I, Hystaspis, King of Iran, have sworn to support him and his brother on their thrones according to the will of Cyrus; and my word shall be kept! Advise him also that the ancient laws and customs in Iran must not be disregarded. His great father gave heed to them; and on them the Aryan peoples lay great weight. In their observance will he gain strength; and the men of Iran will in return dash to pieces his enemies. Do I not speak truth?”
The speaker’s eyes glanced inquiringly over the company. The black, sparkling eyes of Prexaspes likewise swept over it and noted the expression on every countenance. Nods of approval and unanimous spoken assent indicated the sentiment of all. Prexaspes, bowing low before the King, answered:
“I will exactly report your words, O King! I shall take great pleasure in assuring the Great King that all here are his loyal supporters.”