Vardanas pursed his lips angrily. He replied: "I gave you my word, did I not?"
"Are you saying that when you Persians talk of keeping your word of honor, you really mean it?"
"Be not more Greek than you can help! Of course we mean it. At least I do."
Well, as we say at home, it is better to learn late than never. I said: "My friend, I was wrong and you are right. You are a gentleman and a warrior, and I'm proud to know you. I would fain clasp your hand in the Persian manner to pledge our friendship."
He smiled and gripped my hand.
Eight Assakenians lay dead. We had many wounds, but only one man dead and one likely to die. The dead man was a camp servant whose head had been split by an Assakenian ax as he tried to pull the foreigner from his horse. The sorely wounded was a Thessalian, Zethos of Larissa, pierced through corselet and chest by a wooden lance. His comrades helped him to the bank, where he lay, coughing up bloody foam. As usual, the losing side had lost out of proportion, because men slightly disabled were caught and finished off when their comrades fled.
I said to Thyestes: "See that all wounds are cleansed and bound, and send men to pick up the fallen weapons. I'm going to look for our braw sutler."
"Ea! D'you mean the cowardly coof has fled? Give me the slitting of his throat!"
I found Elisas behind a rock not thirty paces from the bank. When he saw my look, he ran. Because of his slight build he drew ahead of me until a Thessalian threw a javelin whirling against his legs and tripped him. I caught his arm as he got up, and began to beat him.
"Mercy, great lord!" he screamed. "I am no warrior! Not hired to fight!"
"Hold him, lads," I said. "He jerks so I canna get a good swing at him."
Two Thessalians held him whilst I swung my javelin with both hands until I was tired and Elisas hung limply. When they dropped him, he crept off moaning and half fell down the bank of the river. He doffed his tunic and bathed the welts on his back, still weeping and muttering Syrian curses.
"Next time, dung man," I said, "obey." I turned to Kavis, who was binding a small leg wound. "How far to Kasipapoura?"
"Less than a league. If you do not mind marching in the heat, we can reach it by noon."
"Is this another of your Gandarian leagues, that stretches and shrinks like a lump of warm pitch?"
He laughed. "No indeed; we can almost see my city from here."
I ordered the men to place Zethos in one of the carts and make him easy.
"His lung is pierced," said Thyestes. "Aweel! I misdoubt he'll die."
"That's up to Fate." I said. "Let's be off, ere another rebel army come upon us."
Kasipapoura lies a few furlongs west of the junction of the Kophen with the Chavaspes. I first saw it over the orchards and wheat fields that the Paktyans grow by a far-reaching system of irrigation ditches. Kavis said:
"Yonder is a good place to camp, by the river. Whilst you set up your tents, I shall ride home to ready a feast for you and your officers. You, Hipparch, shall stay the night at my house. I would invite all, were my place big enough. Is it well?"
"It is well," I said. Off went Kavis at a gallop. I sent the sullen Elisas after him on a mule to buy food for our people and beasts.
We set up our tents and crawled into them. I was just falling asleep when a sentry roused me.
"Troop Leader!" he said. "A man asks to speak to you."
The man was fat, ill-favored, and jingling with turquoise ornaments. He was, he said, Toragas, the leading man of Kasipapoura. When I could not understand his scraps of Persian, Vardanas crawled out of his tent to help. At length Vardanas said:
"He says Kavis is an evildoer, a very daiva. Kavis, he avers, has lured us hither so his men can fall upon us and slay us. For ten talents of silver he will protect us from the wicked Kavis. Nay more, he will entertain us at his palace. There we shall enjoy the pleasures of Bishta, the Gandarian paradise."
Even had the fellow's tale been true, the amount he asked was absurd. I said: "Say we thank him but can take care of ourselves."
The man spoke again, in tones of menace. Vardanas said: "He warns us we had better pay him for protection. There are many all-daring rogues among the Paktyans who would cut our throats for nought but our weapons, let alone for our treasure."
"What treasure? He knows nought of what we have. Tell him to begone."
The man went. I tried to sleep again but could not for worry over Toragas' warning. Kavis had done well for us, but one could never be sure with foreigners.
Two or three hours later, as I was falling asleep for the second time, Kavis came back. "All is ready," he cried. "Follow me. You too, Kanadas."
Kanadas said: "You no angry if I no eat?"
"The more fool you; but come anyway. Bring some grooms to hold your horses outside the city, Hipparch, as our streets are too narrow for riding."
Kavis led Kanadas, Vardanas, Pyrron, and me to the city. Thyestes had to stay with the detachment. Kavis led us through the gate, exclaiming: "Is this not the most beautiful city in the world?"
Compared to Babylon, or even Taxasila, Kasipapoura was a mere huddle of hovels, made even less winsome by heat, dust, and flies. Howsomever, I forbore to wound our host by untimely candor.
"It is indeed beautiful," I said.
"What a dreadful hole!" said Pyrron in Greek.
"He, too, thinks it beautiful," I said. Vardanas caught my eye and burst into a fit of coughing.
"I rejoice that you know true beauty," said Kavis. "Here is our dancing stage, where we dance and vote on tribal matters ..." He went on to tell of their democratic government.
"In fact," he said, "all that keeps Kasipapoura from being a paradise on earth is my foe Toragas, who lives on the other side of town. My family has been at feud with his for generations."
I was about to mention Toragas' visit when Kavis said: "Here we are. Enter and use my house as your own."
Like the other larger houses in Kasipapoura, Kavis' house was built like a small fortress. We entered through a gate that looked as if it would keep out elephants and found ourselves in a courtyard decked with a rose garden. Kavis proudly showed off his roses, though compared to the gardens of the lordly houses of Persia it was a dismal little show. We sat down on a rug in the courtyard.
There were two other men, the headman of Kasipapoura, Outamer, and the commandant of the Greek garrison, Laomedon of Keos. Alexander had left thousands of such Greek mercenaries in garrisons on his march to India. Kavis also presented us to his two wives and three daughters.
I told Laomedon of Zethos' plight and asked: "Have you decent quarters where I could leave him?"
"Let's see," said Laomedon. "You carry this man's advance pay, do you not?"
"Aye." I thought it better to say nought of Zethos' discharge bonus. "If you leave his pay with him, he'll be welcome. If he live, we shall need him, in case the Assakenians come hither. My command is no larger than yours, though I am supposed to rule the most insolent, truculent race on earth. Whereas if he die ..." Laomedon cocked an eyebrow at me, as if to say that then the money would be put to good use. "However, we'll take good care of him. We have no physicians, but, with a lung wound, prayer is as good as aught they can do."
Kavis' wives and slaves passed the wine. Soon we all felt at ease. Laomedon and the headman insisted on the story of the battle. I told my version, and then they asked Vardanas for his. The silly man shamed me by giving the true numbers of the Assakenians, which I had swollen for the sake of the tale—not much, only to double their true size. These Persians, who spoil a good story for the sake of a few facts!