Weary of the tent-life of the desert, she prevailed upon Belteshazzer to go with her to Persepolis. Here he and the philosophical King of Iran spent many happy days in study and learned dispute, while she, protected from danger by a strong guard of the King’s own men, resided in comfort and safety, waiting with patience the coming of her chosen one.
Meanwhile the King of Kings, having suffered the severe reverses of fortune before mentioned, had abandoned himself to drunkenness and debauchery. His evil temper, aggravated by his reverses, was ungoverned. On the slightest provocation, he slew servants with his own hands or caused them to be cruelly tortured. If his spies or favorites mentioned unfavorably an officer or soldier, death, often accompanied by tortures, such as flaying alive, impaling on stakes, or dismemberment, was inflicted upon the unfortunate accused. He even dared seize and execute several noble Persians, thus carrying into effect his jealous resolve to reduce their haughty spirits. Finally a day came, when a dreadful murder forced to action a conspiracy among prominent Persians to dethrone him.
Cambyses and his sister-wife were at dinner, when the King, after alluding to her sad countenance, derisively said to her: “You are like these other proud, upstart Persians, moping about with disapproving countenance! They shall all learn to bow the knee and to fall on their faces in the dust before me, or they shall die! Who am I that I should bear with them? I swear by Ahriman, that I will arrest every Persian officer; and on the morrow twelve shall die, on the day after twelve more shall die, and on each succeeding day a like number, until they are finished!”
He banged his great fist down upon the table before him. His sister was greatly moved. Her state of health was such that she was extremely weak and nervous. Her face was white and her eyes were full of horror. The half-drunken King, noticing her look of repulsion, was infuriated, and, calling her a vile name, shouted: “What? Do you also defy me? Speak, craven, ere I tear out your tongue!”
The spirit in the child-woman suddenly blazed up and, arising from the couch where she had been reclining, she stood before the brute with clenched hands and flashing eyes.
“Murderer!” she cried. “You have abandoned all good! You are all evil! You foully murdered Bardya! You have driven Athura to her death! You have dishonored me! Would you murder all the Aryan race? Are you a Persian? Or are you a devil?”
For a moment Cambyses was too dazed to speak. Never had any one addressed him thus. Lashed to insane fury by her words, he sprang up with stuttering curses, knocked the frail woman down, and jumped upon her prostrate body with his feet, stamping and crushing her into insensibility. The servants screamed, and some of them endeavored to prevent him; but he drew a dagger and stabbed one to death, wounded another, and drove all out of his presence. Then, recovering his senses somewhat and stricken with remorse, he knelt at the side of his sister and wept aloud. He then called for his surgeons and bade them save her or die. They tried faithfully to restore her to consciousness, but without avail. She died within the hour.
This horrible crime soon became known among the Persians. There were then encamped near Memphis about fifty thousand men, the remnant of the Aryans who had followed the King into Egypt. Conferences were at once held among the Persian officers and it was decided that Cambyses, being insane, should be deposed. The Prince of Iran had no part in these deliberations. With Gobryas and a body-guard, he had gone to visit the nearest pyramids and had been absent several days. Spies duly reported to the King the discontent of the army. On the next day after the murder of his sister, the King caused the arrest of fifty of the chief officers of the army, many of them sons of the highest nobility of Iran. True to his oath, taken before his sister, he slew twelve of them and caused their heads to be hung on the gates of the city with an inscription warning all traitors of a like fate. At once there was a vast uproar. The Aryan troops arose in a mass and marched into Memphis to seize the King. A bloody battle took place in the gardens of the King’s palace, in which the King’s body-guard was cut in pieces and its remnants driven into the palace, where behind heavy gates and doors they pantingly awaited death. Prexaspes commanded the body-guard and made a brave defense. But the veteran Persians and Bactrians were not to be repulsed. They were about to batter down the palace gates, when the Prince of Iran arrived. Immediately the infuriated men raised a roar of welcome and thrust upon him at once the chief command, begging him to lead them and to allow them to set him up as King.
The King was not deficient in physical courage. Sobered at last by the awful results of his fury in the murder of his sister, and caring little what the end of this revolt might be, desperate and savage, ready to fight to the end, he paced back and forth behind the battlements surrounding the roof of the great palace wherein he was besieged, and glowered sullenly down upon the raging mob below. Prexaspes came to him, ostensibly for orders but really to advise that overtures of peace be made. To him the King said rabidly: “What! Will you turn against me also? Why not go down and join those? Perhaps they will honor you! Saw you not that Prince of Iran out yonder? I thought I saw him ride up. Even now, if I mistake not, he stands yonder in the midst of his officers planning how best to take me. Bring up a dozen of the best archers. Him at least shall they slay!”
Prexaspes shook his head impatiently, and, while keeping his eye on the King lest the latter might attack him, he said harshly: “Have I not said that the Prince of Iran is oath-bound to you? He alone can save you this day! Would you slay the only man who can call off those wolves yonder? It is madness to slay him. We shall be torn limb for limb if he save us not!”