CHAPTER V
CAMBYSES
SOME days were given to rest before the Prince of Iran and his guard, escorting the royal dead and accompanied by the royal family, marched out of Bactra on the long journey, over verdant plain and hill, over rugged mountains and sandy wastes, to Pasargadæ. Their route lay westward to Rhages, with the Elburz chain of mountains on the right and the vast deserts of Iran on the left, thence southward by way of Hamadan. A caravan accompanied them, bearing provisions and luxuries for the journey. In spite of the sad errand, it was a pleasant experience for the Prince and his beloved.
Meanwhile Prexaspes, riding at courier speed, rushed on in advance to carry tidings to Cambyses. As he rode, he formulated plans. He knew Cambyses well,—in fact, it had been reported to Cyrus that Prexaspes had abetted his wayward son in his excesses. As much to remove him from his son as to please the Medes, the King had taken the powerful noble with him on his expedition against the Touranians. Prexaspes had not dared demur. Much as he loved ease and luxury, he was personally brave and capable. He had performed his duties and had won the approbation of the just old King. Knowing the weaknesses of Cambyses, his vanity, his selfishness, his gross passions, and his superstitious nature, he now planned how he should gain advantage by them; and in his mind he saw himself raised to the second place in the empire, covered with riches, honors, and power.
He soon arrived at Rhages, an ancient city situated near that famous pass through the Elburz mountain-chain known as the Caspian Gates, and not far from Mount Demavend, around which cluster many legends of ancient Iran. Here the stream of Aryans had halted many years before separating into the three branches, one of which passed northward through the Gates into the Caucasus and thence into Europe, another westward into the mountains of Azerbijan, and another southward to Medea and Persia. But Hamadan, the Ecbatana of the Greeks, situated farther south, had grown greater and had become the capital of Medea. Rhages had ceased to be the capital. It was, however, a great and important city, a base for the army guarding the Caspian provinces beyond the great mountain-chain and a market through which flowed commerce from the sea of the north, the caravans of the east and south and from the herdsmen of the mountains in the west. Mount Demavend, magnificent in its snow-capped grandeur, on whose peak, it was said, God sometimes rested to view His created world, is one of the great mountains of earth.
Prexaspes halted here but a day. He sacrificed a horse at the temple, where the ancient Aryan rites were performed, and he drank soma and was sprinkled with holy water afterwards at a Magian shrine, where he left a gift of money. Having thus satisfied his conscience and invoked good-luck from all sources, he galloped southward towards Hamadan, where he expected to find King Cambyses.
The queen city of the empire, celebrated in song and story, strong in the martial spirit of its people, called Hamadan by the Persians, Agmetha by the Hebrews, Ecbatana by the Greeks, sat upon a rolling plain, close to the foot of Mount Elwend, sometimes called Mount Orontes. In the center was an eminence on which was the citadel and around which were seven walls rising in gradations, each painted a different color from the others. On the top of the eminence was the far-famed royal palace, covering acres of ground. Its glittering metal roof reflected afar the rays of the sun. Its porch columns, its doors and walls, were plated with precious metal. Its deep, cool interior was luxuriously furnished with carved and curiously wrought tables, divans, settees, and chairs, and with costly tapestries from Srinigar and rugs and carpets from the looms of Medea. Its throne room was vast and magnificent. A stone-built treasury vault occupied one corner, where was stored untold wealth, gathered during the years of conquest, when Crœsus and other unlucky kings fell before the conqueror. A park lay at the rear, inclosed within the walls.
To this city from east and south caravans, with their spirited horses, their complaining camels, and their slow-moving elephants, came, and from the west long trains of pack mules and slaves, to exchange commodities and to outfit for new expeditions. Here came armies, returning from chastisement of some rebel or from conquest of some nation, to recruit for further forays. Half a million people, dwelling in wooden, stone, or tent houses, here made their homes and proudly claimed to be rulers of the world by virtue of the palace on the hill and the power of its royal occupant.
It was midsummer. Royalty and nobility, leaving the lowlands and the heat of the capital city, sought cool retreats in the mountains. Mount Elwend, whose peak is capped with eternal snow, thrusts downward vast spurs into the plains eastward and southward; and, between their wooded sides, babbling streams of cool water flow down from the snows. In the vales and canyons of the foothills were many tents and rustic cabins, where the rich and powerful dwelt and enjoyed the cool, sweet air. Pack-trains fetched provisions and supplies from the city. In luxury and dissipation, with sport and game, the elect of earth here passed the time pleasantly. Here Cambyses was residing, all unconscious that he was now King of Kings.
Riding down from the north, with a score of soldiers at his back, Prexaspes saw the dome and towers of the great palace flash in the afternoon sun and knew that his mission was almost accomplished. His heart beat high. He would be the first to greet Cambyses by his new title, King of Kings, the Great King, and it would depend upon the mood of Cambyses whether he would be given honors as the bearer of good tidings, or be disgraced as the bearer of evil. The guard at his back, picked up at Rhages, did not know his errand or that Cyrus was dead. The dark, eagle-like countenance of Prexaspes was impassive and never betrayed his thoughts. Worn by weather and hardened by exposure, he now looked more the soldier than the courier. But he looked forward to many days of ease and pleasure, when he could discard his dusty uniform for clean linen, perfumed vestments, and the elegant Medean cloak.
At a point about two miles north of the city, he met a train of donkeys led by slaves and under guard of half a dozen mounted troopers. They were moving slowly and they insolently neglected to give way to Prexaspes and his followers when the latter came galloping down towards them.