Bardya looked over her shoulder as she unfolded the paper. “‘Fairest and best of all maidens, Princess of my soul,’” he read aloud laughingly.
Athura quickly turned the first portion of the letter under, saying, “You would joke if death were about to seize you! You shall not read the sweet things he has written. You know not the meaning of them, even if you did believe yourself in love with the daughter of Orobates.”
Bardya in pretended anger placed his hand over her mouth. “Let not that be mentioned!” he exclaimed, with simulated sternness. “I was sixteen and she was very fair. Though she was the daughter of a groom, even yet I sigh for her.”
Having found that part of the letter which she desired to read, Athura said: “Listen to what my Prince says. This was written thirty days ago and was sent to his mother’s house, where he supposed I would be and where I should have been but for a bear of a brother who is King. Listen!
“‘I have been much troubled concerning the words of that great teacher, your father’s former counselor, Belteshazzer, the Hebrew. He is a prophet, acquainted with all wisdom, speaking face to face with the messengers of God. He showed me a vision on the day we halted near Susa. He had been in the wilderness near by and was returning to the city, when I met him on the bank of the Choaspes. He showed me a vision of Achæmenius, the common ancestor of our royal family, yours and mine. A glorious vision! Belteshazzer can read all minds and knows what is in the hearts of men; and he said that the King meditated harm to Prince Bardya. Therefore, I beseech you, my soul, that you advise Bardya to escape as soon as he may and return to Bactra, where he will be safe.
“‘I am now at Damascus, the chief city of Syria, resting before we continue to Sardis. I hear nothing of wars in the realms I go to govern, save the depredations of certain wild tribes on the northeastern border. I look forward to lonely days without you. I may find opportunity to subdue the Ionian cities, which are far too independent and do not properly recognize the majesty of Iran. Till I hear from you I—’”
Athura paused and replaced the letter in her belt, saying, “The rest is for me alone.”
Bardya sat dreamily listening to the rustle of the breeze in the oak leaves and gazing at the dark ridges of Mount Elwend in the west. “I have never thought much of visions, prophecies, or wonder-working performers who deceive the eye by quick movements,” he said after a moment of silence. “Darius says there is a future life; that the soul, leaving this body as one leaves a worn-out cloak, passes into the unseen world and continues to live; that Ahura-Mazda is a God in very truth and that He sends messengers to earth. Darius is wise and learned. If there is a future life and if congenial spirits hover round us, then indeed must those spirits who surround the King be all devils! His savage mind is blinded by love of power and moved to murder by jealousy and fear of me, his brother. I remember Belteshazzer, when he was a great and trusted counselor of Cyrus, our father. I feared him, too; and no man who ever looked into his reproving eye could do otherwise than fear him. I wish I could know the mind of Prexaspes. He seemed sincere. I will go with him and trust to my own arm for protection. But, sweet sister, I fear to leave you here in the power of my brother. Can you not flee with me?”
“Fear not for me, brother. Cambyses will not harm me. He has no excuse. I am not in line for the throne. The right to rule goes to the male descendants of the Achæmenian family. I must not leave Artistone. How can I go now? I should hinder you. Besides, I must wait here for my Prince.”
Bardya did not argue with her further, and she did not oppose his plan of escape further.