“He is a creature for eunuchs and women; nevertheless his army will not suffer.”
“And wherefore?”
“Because Prince Mardonius, son of Gobryas, and brother-in-law of the king, has the wisdom and valour of Cyrus and Darius together. Name him, and you name the arch-foe of Hellas. He, not Xerxes, will be the true leader of the host.”
“You saw him, of course?”
“I did not. A Magian in Ecbatana told me a strange story. ‘The Prince,’ said he, ‘hates the details of camps; leaving the preparation to others, he has gone to Greece to spy out the land he is to conquer.’ ”
“Impossible, you are dreaming!” The exclamation came not from Themistocles but Democrates.
“I am not dreaming, worthy sir,” returned Sicinnus, tartly; “the Magian may have lied, but I sought the Prince in every city I visited; they always told me, ‘He is in another.’ He was not at the king’s court. He may have gone to Egypt, to India, or to Arabia;—he may likewise have gone to Greece.”
“These are serious tidings, Democrates,” remarked Themistocles, with an anxiety his voice seldom betrayed. “Sicinnus is right; the presence of such a man as Mardonius in Hellas explains many things.”
“I do not understand.”
“Why, the lukewarmness of so many friends we had counted on, the bickerings which arose among the Confederates when we met just now at the Isthmus, the slackness of all Spartans save Leonidas in preparing for war, the hesitancy of Corcyra in joining us. Thebes is Medizing, Crete is Medizing, so is Argos. Thessaly is wavering. I can almost name the princes and great nobles over Hellas who are clutching at Persian money. O Father Zeus,” wound up the Athenian, “if there is not some master-spirit directing all this villany, there is no wisdom in Themistocles, son of Neocles.”