“What rumors of the war with Egypt did you hear?”
“The King is gathering a great army from all parts of his empire. It is said he will gather it at Arbela in the spring and march thence by way of Damascus and Tyre.”
“You heard nothing more of the Princesses?”
“Nothing. I spoke with the guards of the palace. But they are black-faced villains from Azerbijan, under the control of the Magi; and they would tell me nothing.”
“You may go now,” said the Prince. “You have done well. Go and rest. I will call you again. Make ready to return in three days.”
The man departed.
“What mean the words of Prexaspes, think you?” asked the Prince, turning to Gobryas. “Does he refer to Bardya or to Athura?”
“I should say, to Athura. Prexaspes loved not Bardya, but he admired you. Undoubtedly he referred to Athura. Perhaps the packet containing the King’s decrees contained a letter from him.”
Gobryas took the wrappers up from the floor where they had fallen and found a closely written sheet of vellum.
“It is a letter from Prexaspes,” he said.