“Not only that, but he has stated in this his decree that the marriage never has been consummated. Furthermore I know all that happened from a private examination of the servants who saw the King when he went to the Princesses to announce his will to them,—how he fled from Athura’s dagger; how he set watches at her bedroom door; how there stood open the lattice of a closet-window connected with the bedroom by which she escaped; and how, afterwards, the rope ladder by which she passed over the walls was found; and it is even known how she purchased a horse which later was found near Bagistan. She rode away on it disguised as a youth. There she disappeared.”
The Prince started and smiled slightly when Prexaspes mentioned the hinged lattice in the closet-window. He had heard from Athura of this means of egress before. He asked eagerly, “No further trace of her has been found?”
“No. But the King thinks she has fled to you or to Persia.”
The Prince did not answer this suggestion but held his hand out for the decrees, saying: “Assure the King that I accept his decree and will loyally support him. But let him not again, I implore, place me in so grave a position, lest I forget my vow to the great Cyrus!” He took the decrees from the hand of Prexaspes, who bowed low and backed from the tent with a second low salaam.
So it came about that Cambyses feared not to come on to Tyre and that the army, duly marshaled in massive lines, received the Great King with honor. The Prince of Iran, accompanied by Hydarnes of the foot soldiers, Vomisces of the cavalry, and a hundred other Persian officers, greeted the King at the limits of the camp and followed him as he rode slowly between the lines of soldiers to his pavilion. The soldiers knelt as he passed, shuddering or wondering as they saw the bloated red face and cold, glittering eyes of their ruler. When they saw the Prince of Iran riding near his right hand in the place of honor, they were pleased and broke forth in acclamations, which the Great King thought were given to him. But his countenance gave no indication of his emotions, and his greetings to his officers were slight and cold.
No sooner had the King entered his pavilion and called for wine than Prexaspes, who had personal charge of the King’s household, entered, and, having bent his knee, requested leave to speak. The King said impatiently:
“Well, speak! Undoubtedly you come to preach policy again! I liked not the dark looks of those cursed Persians! I have a mind to send some of those officers a bowstring!”
“Having your gracious leave, O King, I will speak plainly,” said Prexaspes, boldly. “Does not my welfare depend solely upon your favor? Believe that I speak, therefore, for your best interests. There was grave trouble brewing amongst those Persians. The favor you have shown to the Magi and your marriage with your sister, against which, you know, I most strongly advised, and the grave insult thereby inflicted upon the Prince of Iran, have stirred in them the spirit of revolt. I have trembled, O King! My spies have kept me well informed. There stands between you and destruction at this moment the word of one man, and that one is the Prince of Iran! Order me stricken dead, if you will, O King, for speaking so boldly; but I tell you the truth! I swear by all the gods, I speak the truth!”
The King’s face was dark with wrath, but he realized the force of his adviser’s words. He gulped down a great cup of wine, threw the cup upon the floor, and passed a trembling hand over his face.
“You may speak truth, Prexaspes,” he admitted. “But how about the Medes and the other levies, are they not faithful? They outnumber the Persians and Bactrians. Besides, have I not stultified myself already by your advice and placated that same Prince of Iran?”