When Gustasp awoke and observed the movements of the troopers, he gave it as his opinion that an attack was expected. Nor was he mistaken. For about mid-forenoon they observed two bodies of cavalry approaching from the direction of Nicæa, one in advance moving rapidly and the other more deliberately. The advance body was evidently a scouting party sent out by Prexaspes, and it soon joined his array. The pursuers came on in wide, extended order, their masses glittering with armor and spear-points. At their head rode two men, conspicuous on white steeds.
“Look, Gustasp!” exclaimed Athura, while the pursuers were yet far away. “Is it not the Prince—the one at the right? Is that not Gobryas at his left?”
Gustasp shaded his eyes and looked closely at the distant figures. He smiled and shook his head.
“My eyes are counted good, gracious lady, but I cannot see any difference in those men,” he answered. “If I had eyes as young as yours, I might distinguish them. But I know those are the Persians of the Imperial Guard. The Prince must be with them. They are not half as numerous as the false King’s men, but they are veterans and the best soldiers in the world. It will be a short battle.”
The Persians came on until they were within a thousand paces of their antagonists, when they halted. The two leaders rode forward to a slight eminence two hundred paces in advance, from which they attentively surveyed the field. It was well suited for battle between bodies of cavalry. While somewhat rolling and uneven, there were no ditches or swamps. The Medean line was more extended than the Persian and no less massive and deep. The Persian leaders soon returned to their lines and the watchers on the hills perceived a movement of the rear ranks to the left, where presently a body of troops was massed three times as great in depth as the general line.
“The Prince has made a hammer of his left,” said Gustasp. “Now look at his right! It bends back so that the Medes may not overlap and attack the Persian rear!”
It was even so. For when the Persians moved forward again there was a perceptible bending back of their right wing until it moved forward en echelon to the remainder of the line.
Then came two men from the Persians who rode rapidly up to the Medes and demanded a parley. Prexaspes and the King met them and received a message from the Prince of Iran demanding the surrender of the Princess Athura and of the false King, and promising pardon to all the other Medes save Prexaspes. These demands were refused. The heralds rode back to the Prince and reported, who then ordered his army to advance.
The Persians came on at a smart trot until within five hundred yards. Then the front ranks leveled their spears, bent their bodies forward, and pressed their horses into a gallop. Prexaspes ordered his troops forward to meet the onset. The earth shook with the thunder of hoofs. A deep-toned roar went up from the Persians, their battle shout which had terrified many a nation. The Medes answered with a medley of yells. The lines came together with a terrific shock. Men were unhorsed. Horses reared, plunged, and went down. Screams of agony mingled with battle-shouts. The lines wavered and stood still, it seemed, for the space of five minutes. Then was seen the power of discipline. The Medes, while brave, were not inured to battle. After the first shock, they became confused. They were overthrown, ridden down, and pushed back. Struggling fruitlessly against the terrible spears of their enemies, they receded. The Persians raised shouts of victory and pressed their advantage. The Prince of Iran, leading the center, rode over Prexaspes, broke through the Medean lines, and made directly for the King. The latter turned his horse and fled towards his castle, with the Prince and Gobryas close at his heels. So close was the pursuit that Gaumata and his men had no time to close the brazen gates of the castle, which were opened to receive them, before the Prince and Gobryas with a company of Persians pressed through and attacked the garrison fiercely. Demoralized by the fall of Prexaspes and the flight of Gaumata, the Medean army scattered and fled from the field.
The Prince and Gobryas, swords in hand, pressed through the confused rabble after Gaumata. They saw him leap from his horse and enter the castle. Dismounting they pursued him into the chamber below that where the Princess Athura had her retreat. Here the false King turned at bay, unable to escape. The Prince himself attacked Gaumata, though Gobryas begged the privilege of slaying him. The struggle was short. The Prince was an athlete and swordsman; his opponent was neither. Gaumata’s weapon was whirled from his hand at the first blow, and the Prince’s blade passed through his heart, cutting short his cry for mercy.