"A sound point of view for a philosopher," said Vardanas, "but I can fancy the outburst if I told my father I was going into business. He likes to call himself a Persian of the old school, who knows nothing but how to ride, to shoot, and to tell the truth."
"Men of my class feel the same," I said, "though they except horse trading. As for me, I agree with Pyrron. And speaking of your father, you'll soon be home. What's your home like?"
"We have two, like most of the landowners hereabouts. One is a house in Sousa; the other, where we spend our summers, is in yonder hills." He pointed towards one of the ranges that broke the horizon. "You are lucky to see the Houzan plain in winter. In summer it is so hot that barley grains pop on the sidewalk, and a lizard that tries to cross the street in daytime is stricken dead."
"If it's hotter than the Arachotian desert, I'm glad to miss the Sousian summer. How much family have you?"
"There is my father, Thraitaunas son of Tachmaspas; my mother Rhautagouna; my father's other wife Houtausa; then my brothers Kambouzias and Ariakas; and my sisters Nirouphar and Mousa and Gambia. My sister Artaunta is married and dwells in Hagmatana. I had another brother, Tachmaspas, who fell at Issos, and a brother who died in infancy."
"I come of a big family, too," I said.
"Ours is not really large. The Persian king was wont to give prizes to the largest Persian families, on the ground that only thus could he get enough faithful Persians to help him rule the lesser peoples of the empire. Now I suppose Alexander will do the same for all these Hellenes whom he is sowing hither and yon in Asia."
"I'd better harness up, then," I said with a smile.
"What will you do for a Greek girl? There are few indeed in Persia."
"The king seems to like his men to wed Asiatic lasses. He'd better, seeing that he himself married one. Belike your father would give me one of your sisters."
I meant it as a jest, but Vardanas looked grave. "Oh, my dear Leon, pray do not speak of such a thing to him!"
"And why not? My family is as respectable as his, as you shall see if you come to Thessalia. We belong to the knightly class and to the clan of the Aleuadai, the noblest family of Thessalia."
"It is not that," said Vardanas, looking miserable. "I would not offend my dear companion; but Father is fearfully proud of being Ariatshisha—of pure Arian lineage. Although most Persian families in Houza are more or less mixed with the Houzans, we are pure Persian. He would never consider a non-Arian son-in-law."
"Phy!" I said, a little put out despite Vardanas' apologies. Although I had never seen the Persian's sisters and had no idea if I should even like them, it was irksome to be deemed inferior merely because one was a stranger. I found it hard to cleave to the spirit of international tolerance on which Pyrron had been lecturing us. But I bethought me that if the case were reversed, my family would be just as shocked by the thought of giving one of my sisters to Vardanas; nor would they easily accept my bringing home a foreign bride.
Early on the second day after we left Soustara, Sousa rose out of the plain ahead of us. We could see it from afar, as it is built on a clump of mounds or low hills. Ere we reached it, we forded a river which the Hellenes call the Koprates from its dung color, but which those who live along it call the Dida. The city itself stands beside another river, the Chavaspes—not connected with the Chavaspes of Gandaria, though they both bear the same name.
As we came closer, I could see the mounds upon which Sousa is built. Each mound is walled and fortified, while another wall encloses all the mounds and the bulk of the houses of the city. The three largest mounds are crowned with temples, palaces, and barracks; the houses of lesser folk spread over the smaller mounds and the low places between them.
This was the biggest city that any of us had seen in years, larger by far than Taxasila, though not in a class with Babylon. Howsomever, like most cities in Persia and Mesopotamia, Sousa had a shabby look because half the mud-brick houses had been abandoned and were crumbling into ruin.
There was a glitter of arms and a clank of marching soldiery on the plain to the east of the city. Here, on a spacious drill field, several thousand youths marched to and fro. They wore the Macedonian foot soldier's helmet and cuirass; they carried the eight-cubit pike, and the Macedonian star-and-crescent pattern adorned their bucklers, but Median trousers flapped about their legs. They had dark, big-nosed Persian faces.
Near the road stood a group of officers conducting the drill. Two commanded of the rest: a pock-marked Macedonian in full general's regalia, and another man whose garb combined trousers with a Greek officer's helmet. The Hellene spoke to the other man: "Advance!"
"Advance!" shouted the Persian in his own language.
The soldiers started forward raggedly.
"Persian countermarch!" said the Macedonian.
"Persian countermarch!" bawled his companion.
Now, "Persian countermarch" is a simple maneuver. The leading man in each file turns and walks back to the rear between the forward-moving files, and the man behind him follows, and so on. However, a man bearing a long Macedonian pike must hold it straight up during the maneuver, lest it foul the pikes of his neighbors. And woe; woe! The recruits' pikes leant in all directions. Hence there arose a clatter of pikes colliding with pikes, and cries of anger. In a twinkling the men became a milling mob.
The Macedonian officer dashed his helm to the ground and cursed. Now that I could better see his face, I recognized Archelaos son of Theodoros, whom I had known in the old days before Issos. I rode up and called his name.
"Leon!" he cried. "Hermes attend us! I thought you had been eaten by some gryphon or dragon beyond the sunrise. Be it true the East is full of warrior women, pygmies who live on the smell of flowers, and other marvels?"
"Not so full as the tales make out, though there's much of interest. What do you here?"
"Did you not know? I am a general." He indicated the Persian. "This is Brigadier Masdaros. He and I are trying to make phalangites out of Persians. Beside us, Sisyphos had it easy. But what are you doing with this enormous elephant?"
I told him of my mission. "Whom seek we for governmental fodder?"
Archelaos jerked his thumb northward. "Go to Aboulites' offices on North Hill, in the palace of Dareios the Great. Perchance you can stable the elephant with the others."
"Other elephants?"
"Yes, we still have eleven that belonged to Dareios the Little. Another one died. All they do is eat their heads off. I claim their keep should come from the civil budget, while old Aboulites insists it must come from the military, as if these polluted beasts were of any use to me! So far he has had the better of it in our daily squabbles before Kallikrates, the fiscal officer."
"Have you barrack room for us? It's years since we have slept in real beds, not counting brothels."
Archelaos silently counted my hipparchia and whispered to Masdaros. Then he turned to me, shaking his head and smiling.
"Yes," he said. "A company of replacements marched off to join the king a few days ago, so we have room. Vivanas!" He spoke to a young Persian aide. "Lead this party to barracks and see that they are made easy.
We left the officers shouting at the recruits and headed for the city. Vardanas, easily cast down by anything that showed his countrymen in poor light, stared gloomily ahead.
"Who are those?" I asked Vivanas.
"Well-born Persian youths whom the king ordered trained in Macedonian tactics, Hipparch," he said.