“To the Prince of Iran, greeting:
“Cambyses, King of Kings, the King of All the Earth, the Great King, commands that you gather fifty thousand soldiers and, leaving only force sufficient to garrison the chief cities under command of Metaphernes, that you march to Tyre, there to await the gathering of the other armies of the King. He has determined to punish the King of Egypt for injuries and insults heretofore sustained. You are ordered to hire all the Phœnician ships and as many of the Hellenes as you can. Let them also gather at Tyre. Also to engage all the Cretan slingers and Greek hoplites from Ionia and the islands. Pay them liberally from the King’s money. Bring with you the treasures of your provinces and gather provisions at Tyre to subsist five hundred thousand men for a year’s campaign in Egypt. Be ready to lead the King’s armies. For the King orders that you have chief command under him. In four months be at the place appointed.
“(For the King) Prexaspes.”
“The King does me honor indeed!” exclaimed the Prince, angrily. “One day he insults and wrongs me; the next he appoints me leader of his army. I will march to Tyre, indeed! If I march no further towards Hamadan, it will be because I find that Athura has indeed escaped. But, alas! Gobryas, I fear much that she escaped only by the aid of a dagger.”
“Better the dagger than the fate of Artistone! Did the messenger not say he saw her at a palace window two weeks after the marriage? She is but a child, and could not escape! O, my Prince and brother! Give me leave this night to start for Persia! I do not ask you to raise your hand against the King! But I will stir up all Persia against him. May Ahriman seize him!”
Gobryas paced back and forth, greatly agitated. But the Prince shook his head.
“Let us not be hasty, dear brother!” he said. “In my own grief I had forgotten that you love Artistone. Whatever has been done cannot now be undone. Vengeance will wait and be more sure to those who make sufficient preparation. Let us hasten our departure. Perhaps Athura is flying hither, and we must prepare to receive and protect her. If it means war, let it come! I cannot throw Cambyses down from his throne; but my oath does not prohibit me from resisting his tyranny by force. I cannot agree with Otanes to make war on him. Nor can I permit you, my brother, to go into Persia to aid in a conspiracy against him. He has wronged you unwittingly and has put no insult upon you, as he has upon me. Nevertheless, if Athura has escaped and claims my protection, she shall have it even if war be the result.”
CHAPTER XIII
A CLASH OF WILLS
ATHURA and Artistone, sisters of the Great King, were alone in their magnificent sitting-room in the palace, having dismissed all their attendants. They sat on a velvet-covered couch with heads close together, discussing the latest action of the King. Between them lay a tablet on which was engraved a copy of the King’s decree, declaring the new law, that the King of Kings might marry his sisters. Some days had elapsed since the King of Kings had told them of his intention, but as he had not again spoken on the subject, they had concluded that he was jesting. This decree indicated his set purpose.
“Is the decree law?” asked Artistone.