Having thus greeted the spirit of his sire, Cambyses turned away and went to the litters where his sisters reclined. They came forth and bowed to him in greeting. He kissed their foreheads, saying: “It is a great pleasure to have you near me. You shall have the old palace for your residence,—you and Prince Bardya,—while you remain here. At a more fitting time we shall renew our acquaintance.”
Then he remounted his horse and ordered the final march to begin. Prexaspes with the King’s body-guard led the way back to the city. The funeral car followed. The King rode behind it and, following him, were Prince Bardya, the Prince of Iran, the Princesses, and the great nobles. The lesser notables and the Imperial Guard marched next, followed by the people. Thus with royal pomp, amidst the mourning of his people, Cyrus, the Great King, the Achæmenian, completed his worldly march. A band of white-robed priests slaughtered the noble war-horse and presented his blood and burned portions of his flesh as a sacrifice to Ahura-Mazda, with many prayers. The solemn chants being ended, the golden casket in which the body of the great dead was encased was carried up the steps of the pyramid and deposited in the temple-like vault on its top. The brazen door of the tomb was closed, bolted, and sealed and a guard set over it. The people then dispersed.
The King made a decree by which a special order of military rank was instituted, whose sole duty it was to watch the tomb, that no man should disturb the sacred body of the hero.
So was laid to rest the body of the most knightly king and heroic figure of ancient Iran. The great Darius probably equaled him in generalship and excelled him in statesmanship; but the brilliant career, the gentle and knightly qualities, and the heroic spirit of Cyrus, are without parallel in ancient story. Not until the great Alexander flashed across the western sky did any meteor excel in brightness him whose simple epitaph was, “I am Cyrus, the King, the Achæmenian!”
CHAPTER VIII
A ROYAL COUNCIL AND A ROYAL HUNT
IT was the day after the funeral of Cyrus. Cambyses, the Great King, was in a black humor. The fatigue incident to the funeral services and the reaction from intoxication caused by too much drink, indulged in afterward, had darkened his vision and sharpened his acerbity. When he awoke and sat up on his silk-covered couch, he felt the need of immediate refreshment. He jerked a cord hanging conveniently at hand, and a bell jangled in an adjoining hall. Instantly two servants appeared, slipping in between the heavy folds of a curtain at the doorway, and prostrated themselves before him.
“Rise up, dogs! Bring me soma!” he roared.
Swiftly and noiselessly as fleeting shadows they arose and disappeared. In a moment the King’s cup-bearer appeared with a golden goblet in hand, followed by the servants bearing a vessel of milky, fiery liquid. The cup-bearer bowed low, the servants set down the jar and were about to prostrate themselves again, when Cambyses cried impatiently, “Omit salutations and pour!”
The potent fluid sparkled as it flowed into the goblet from the vessel. Twice was the goblet filled and twice did he drain it. “Begone!” he then commanded. “Send the bath hither!”
Cup-bearer and servants withdrew, walking backward. A moment later the servants came in again, bearing a large tub of water. With their assistance the King proceeded to bathe. Unfortunately for one, he dropped a towel and received a buffet from the King’s fist that caused him to reel.