"But can kill, oh yes!" said Stamenes, drawing a finger across his throat.
"However," said Agathon, "as you're one of the king's valued servants, we don't really wish to do anything so horrid. We'd rather let you off with a fine. Now, we know you're taking chests of treasure to Hellas. If you'll tell us where they are, the fine will be adjusted accordingly."
I thought. By "adjusting the fine" the Methonean meant setting the forfeiture at whatever sum we had with us. Any excuse will serve a tyrant, as it says in the fable.
Whilst they probably would not kill me ere they got possession of the chests, for fear they might not be able to find them without my directions, it was likely that, as soon as they seized the treasure, they would slay me, regardless of promises, lest I report their crimes to the king. Therefore, my game was to keep them from finding the chests as long as I could. I said:
"When we entered the city, we buried the chests in one of those piles of broken brick from the Tower of Babylon."
The two officials traded glances. Agathon said: "That tells us little, my friend. There are millions of bricks in that dump. To search it through would take a lifetime."
"Look beneath the piles nearest the inner city wall," I said. "The chests are under the second heap in from the Street of Mardoukos."
They went away, leaving me in darkness. Time passed with heavy-footed tread. I was fed and watered enough to keep me alive. I thought sadly of Nirouphar, whom I might never see again. I listened to the rustle of mice, scratched the bites of countless vermin, and cursed my folly in letting down for a moment the bars of my suspicion.
I thought that surely my hair must be turning gray with age when Agathon and Stamenes came back. I knew that days had passed since they had been there last, though how many days I could not tell, for no daylight came into the crypt.
This time they brought with them a man who bore a kit of tools which I soon recognized as those of a professional torturer. Agathon said:
"So, little old Leon plays jokes on us, eh? But important officials like us don't care for jokes. This gentleman" (he pointed to the torturer) "will entertain you for a while. Then we shall ask where the money is, and if you don't give us the truth, well ..."
I set my teeth. The executioner heated his tools in a brazier.
"You shall rue this outrage," I said, repeating my words in Persian for Stamenes' benefit. "The king will impale you. My orders are to write him every few days. If the letters stop, he'll know that ill hap has befallen me."
"We don't fear the polluted king," said Agathon. "He'll never return. Grab the blighter, boys."
The two muscular guards seized me and stretched me out despite my struggles. Unchained and well fed, I could surely have handled one at least. As it was, howsomever, I could do little but curse and threaten.
At the first touch of the hot iron I gave a fearful yell. "I'll tell!" I said.
It was not very heroic, but I was sure they would sooner or later find and seize the chests and then slay me. Therefore, to prolong the torture, merely to prove I could bear it, would not be a practical form of heroism.
I told them where the chests had been stowed in the precinct of the tower. Stamenes said: "You play more games, yes? We look there first thing, while you were still asleep from bump on head."
"We went over those grounds with the utmost care," said Agathon. "Give him some more, Kousouros."
The executioner applied his iron again. I yelled until I thought I should bring down the ceiling.
"I oversaw the stowing of those chests myself!" I shouted when the torturer paused in his ministrations. "An they be not there, they've been moved. With so many cells and storerooms on the tower grounds, you could easily have overlooked this one."
Agathon, fingering his beard, looked at Stamenes. "It might be worth trying. We can always set Kousouros to work on him again."
"All right," said Stamenes. "But give very good directions."
I told them exactly how to find the storeroom in question, and they and their ruffians went away. I was left alone in the dark again, wishing that I could swoon to ease the anguish of the burns.
Time passed. The burns pained me until I chewed my clothing to keep from crying out. Monstrous blisters formed.
Then came a sudden trampling and the sound of voices. A group of masked men rushed into the block of cells. One held a torch whilst two others, with a chisel and a sledge hammer, cut my chains with a few heavy strokes.
"The bracelets you'll have to manage for yourself," growled the leader. "Now, up and run for it!"
We ran down the corridor. I staggered and stumbled, limping from the pain in my burnt leg. Upstairs we clattered, through a labyrinth of chambers and corridors, across courts, and out a great door which I recognized as the main entrance to the citadel. It was night, and a sodden drizzle blotted out everything beyond the range of my rescuers' torches. Outside the citadel, something huge and black loomed over me. It was Aias.
"You're in no shape to sit a horse, eh?" said my chief rescuer, whose voice, muffled by a scarf about the lower part of his face, I could almost recognize. "Were you tortured?"
"Aye." I pointed to my leg.
"Zeus! You were at that. Here's some salve for your wounds. When you've applied this, you'll forget about complaining to the king. Now up this ladder with you, and take care that in passing through Harpalos' demesne you don't flee the ashes only to fall into the coals."
He slapped my back. I struggled up the rope ladder, panting. Kanadas' strong arms hauled me headfirst into the booth on the elephant's back. The man who had spoken to me handed up a heavy bag that clinked.
Forward, Vardanas called softly: "Advance!"
With the familiar jingle of bits, clatter of hooves, creak of axles, and commands of "Get up! Get up!" the hipparchia moved north on Enemy Street. The masked men put out their torches and ran off into the darkness.
We rode through the Ishtar Gate. Who guided us I could not tell. We shuffled through dark and dank, passed the inner city wall, passed the main city wall, and came to the suburban wall. A Greek voice said: "Fare you well!" A man at the head of the column swung his horse about and galloped back towards the city.
"Aside from this cursed burn," I said, "there's nought amiss with me that a good repast and a bath won't cure. But I must needs ride the elephant till my leg heals. Hand me up some victuals, Elisas. And tell me what befell, somebody. How came I to be rescued?"
" 'Twas our friend Beliddinos," said Thyestes, riding beside the elephant. "When I'd taken my pleasure with the wench, I looked down the stair to see four soldiers at the foot. These commanded me to give mysel up. No being minded to put my head in the lion's mouth, I made a running jump and came down with my heels on the breast of the foremost. It tumbled him on his back with muckle clatter.
"Then I ran for it afore the others could spit me. I dinna ken how I got out; but somegate I did, and lost my pursuers in the alleys. Then I was lost mysel and didna win back to the temple till dawn. When I learnt you hadna yet returned, Vardanas and I roused the priest from his slumbers and told him.
"The poor wight was hard to awaken, for he'd been up late hearing confessions. But, once he kenned what was afoot, he got up quickly enough. It would, he said, be like those all-depraved rogues in the citadel to frank you up in prison on a trumped-up charge in order to seize our silver. So he had his slaves drag the chests out of the storeroom on the tower grounds and hide them in the temple."
My leg hurt fiercely. I bethought me of the bag the masked man had given me. He called it salve, but it clinked like money. Sure enough, it was full of shiny didrachmons, tetradrachmons, and even some massy dekadrachmons. I could not count them on the rocking back of the elephant, but my hand told me there were several pounds of silver here.