“It is so.”
“Since it is so, is not the will of the Great King of the Persians and Medes and of the whole world above the laws of this empire?”
“The King’s word is law.”
“If, then, the Great King command you to do an act, that act, even if it be the taking of life contrary to Persian law, becomes lawful. Is it not so?”
For an instant Prexaspes clasped his fingers together nervously.
“It might be lawful, O King,” he answered slowly. “But though your power is great, there are in this land of Persia great nobles who claim great rights and powers, and who would maintain that Persian law must not be broken even by the Great King. I know the great wisdom and the courage of the King; but if I may be permitted to speak, I would give the advice of one who has studied these matters deeply.”
“I know!” exclaimed the King, impatiently. “I saw the dour faces of the nobles and the hostility of the people. My father unreasonably inflicted punishments upon me and my friends, and knowledge thereof has soured the minds of all toward me. That cursed Bardya, who supplanted me in my father’s love, yet lives! I would sooner trust Darius Hystaspis than those nobles; and he loves me not!”
“It is true the Prince of Iran loves you not. But he is loyal. My only fear is that if Bardya should—should be slain by your order, the nobles would attack even you, and by their vast power among the Persian people they might overthrow you and place the King of Iran on the throne.”
The King arose from the table and paced back and forth, grinding his teeth in wrath. He realized the truth of Prexaspes’ words.
“There can be but one King on earth!” he exclaimed. “That King must be Cambyses. Bardya must die! As for Darius Hystaspis, I would order him to death, did I not believe his father would head a revolt in Iran such as I care not to meet. But I hate him! What then do you advise?”