The Prince’s face grew dark. “What?” he demanded harshly. “Does this King deny my sisters their right to go where they choose and does he insult me by withholding the company of my friends?”
Prexaspes glanced about uneasily and placed a finger on his lips, shaking his head warningly. He drew nearer to the Prince, saying in a low voice: “Have a care, Prince Bardya! The King waits only for some excuse and for a convenient day, to slay you. I will reveal to you what I know. Swear to keep silent should you escape! Give me the royal word of an Achæmenian that you will not betray me and that when you come to your kingdom you will remember me as a King should. Then will I reveal what is planned to compass your death.”
Bardya hesitated. He searched the dark countenance of Prexaspes, striving to penetrate the mask of earnestness there assumed.
“You have my word. Speak!” he said after some hesitation.
“I am indeed commanded to lead you with the escort of one hundred men toward Rhages, but it is also ordered that you be slain before you reach that city. I am not willing to stain my hands in the royal blood of Iran. Neither am I willing that my head pay the forfeit of failing to have the King’s orders obeyed. Therefore, believe me, I have planned in good faith for your escape. On the night before the day set for your departure, the feast will be held. You must attend the feast. At midnight there will be a great exhibition of magic by the priests of the Magi. The King will be drunk by that time and engrossed with watching the performances. You will then have opportunity to leave the assembly room unnoticed by him and to return to your apartments. I will see that the guards are removed. You will take what jewels you have and leave your apartments to meet me at the western gate of the park, where horses will await us. Wear a rough soldier’s cloak over your armor. It will be easy for us to pass the guards and leave the city, as I shall have the pass-words. I will accompany you beyond the city limits on the northern road. I will put money in your saddle-bags and you may travel as a merchant. As soon as you are beyond the city I will return. Next day, there will ride forth one who much resembles you and who will dress as you dress,—Gaumata, the Magian. He will ride beyond Rhages. He will there disappear, and those who allow him to escape will feel the wrath of the Great King. Meanwhile you may travel unnoticed to Bactra. Is it not a good plan?”
Bardya listened with distrust. He did not answer immediately. He pondered, not the plan, but the man who proposed it. As if reading his thoughts, Prexaspes added: “Why need you distrust me? If I chose to slay you, could I not come with the King’s order, take you to the dungeons, and there have you slain? Why should I make this plan? Surely you do not fear that I am able, single-handed, to overcome you on the northern road,—you, than whom no stronger swordsman rides a Nicæan steed! You will be armed and have a coat of mail. You may take all precautions. I seek only to do you a service.”
His words touched the Prince’s vanity. Of course he feared no single man, he the celebrated strong-arm Prince of the world! The desire for liberty was strong in him and the romance of a night escape appealed to him.
“Prexaspes, I agree,” he said. “It matters little whether you speak truly or falsely. It will be better to try an escape than to remain here; and, should the King overtake me with his guards, I can no more than die. Should I escape by this plan, come to me at Bactra and I will reward you royally. Or better still, times and seasons may change and Kings may change; and if Ahura-Mazda be willing, I may be here again some day able to give great honors and rewards!”
Prexaspes smiled beneath his curly beard. His snake-like eyes flashed. “Let it be settled, then,” he rejoined. “At the midnight hour, return to your apartments, not letting any of your friends know your purpose. Meet me at the western park gate alone, and we will ride forth alone. Leave word with your servants that you are tired and are not to be called until the noon hour on the morrow. Farewell for the present!”
Prexaspes turned away and disappeared through the shrubbery. The Prince paced onward till he came to the western limits of the park and noted the gate of which Prexaspes had spoken. He also saw that a company of soldiers had their tents pitched among the trees beyond the gate and that certain of them as guards paced back and forth along the wall bounding the park. He turned on his heel and returned to the palace. The guards watched him as long as he was in sight and murmured to each other concerning him, their attitude being sympathetic. The Prince was a man of soldierly figure and gracious demeanor. These men would go far to execute the orders of the King of Kings, but they admired the Prince and would not willingly have harmed him.