"I want none of them the now. But what is fine about me? I am but a poor fumbling rustic, grappling with a task beyond his abilities."
"Say not so! You have most of the virtues I lack. I am flighty and easily turned from my path; you drive for your goal as straight as a migrating duck. I am often foolish and impractical in my judgments, whilst you shrewdly keep the final effects of every act in mind. I am carried away by the whim of the moment, but you keep your feelings under tight rein. When the cart wheel came off yesterday, few officers but would have flown into a rage and beaten the nearest servant or soldier within range of their fists. What said you? 'Come, lads; less chatter and more work. Let's get it back together,' as if such mishaps were to be expected."
"They are, so why waste effort in railing at them? But much though I esteem your praise, you do make me sound like a man with all the duller virtues."
"I find you not dull at all, once I get you opened up. After the constant turmoil of my family of passionate excitables, your solid good sense is a comfort. Betimes I could almost wish the gods had indeed made you an Arian!"
She shed a small tear. I did, too, partly to see her in sorrow and partly in self-pity. She said:
"Dry your tears, dear Rheon. Here comes my brother. If he see us thus, he will be sure you have dealt me a deadly thrust behind the nearest tussock. Now that I think, mayhap it was he, his mind full of brotherly forebodings, who commanded Pyrron to leave me forlorn. What know you of this?"
I looked surprised. "I know nought of any such thing!"
" 'Put no faith in any Hellene!' But my brother's solicitude is wasted, for I no more regard Pyrron as a possible mate than I would a statue. In answer to my questions, the philosopher told me he had tried the pleasures of love, found them overrated, and forsworn them. No such drooping ascetic for me, thank you! And no lewd remarks from you, either, my good Hipparch!"
Our sorrows were blown away by a gust of hearty laughter. Vardanas, coming back with his Dahas from a scouting ride, cast sharp looks upon us but said nought.
We reached Nisibis, a large, well-fortified town that bestrides the Mygdonios River where the latter passes through a ravine from the northern hills to the southern plains. Broad fields of wheat and barley and rich orchards surround Nisibis, and there are many rose gardens of the Persian type. Thence we set out for Rhesaina and Karrai. It was just after we left Nisibis that we had trouble with witchcraft.
Charinos of Krannon, whose woman had been killed by the lion in Sousiana, had a new concubine named Alogouna whom he had picked up in Babylon and who was paid by Vardanas to do washing and other light work for Nirouphar. Simon, another Thessalian, had a Persian concubine named Mandana, by whom he had two children. Mandana had been ailing—some wasting internal disease for which medicine can do nought. In Mygdonia, however, she picked upon Alogouna as the source of her trouble. Methinks she did so merely because the Babylonian had a sharp tongue and was, forbye, younger and better favored than most of the soldiers' women.
The first I knew of this was when Thyestes brought Simon to me. "Troop Leader," said the soldier, twisting his feet and scowling, "you maun do something about that witch."
"What witch?" I said.
"Charinos' hussy. She has bewitched my Mandana so that she's sick to death. None of us is safe while the witch live."
I will not repeat all the long discussion. Charinos could cite no real evidence of witchcraft; he had only his concubine's sick conviction and his own vague suspicion. This suspicion, however, he had communicated to several of his comrades. They, too, came to demand drastic action against Alogouna. I, for my part, fetched in Pyrron to argue that their fears were based on nought but groundless superstition.
Argument, howsomever, got us nowhere. Charinos denied that his quean had been working goetic magic; the others remained as stubbornly sure she had been. I closed our last meeting with these words:
"There's no proof that any lass has done aught to any other, by natural or uncanny means. Are we savages, to convict folk on vague suspicion or womanish jealousies? Go back to your tents, buckies, and pray to Apollon to cause any evil spell to recoil upon the sender. There shall be no violence or persecution, d'you ken?"
They went sullenly. For a few days nought betided. Then, at Rhesaina on the Chaboras, Alogouna disappeared. All, including Charinos, protested utter ignorance of what had befallen her. For several days I knew not if she had been murdered, or had hidden in Rhesaina, or had flown away on the back of a demon conjured up by her sorcery. Then Nirouphar told me:
"She fled and hid in the town, Rheon. I so advised her. The men were all ready to strangle her and bury her quietly that night. You would never have known."
"Thank the gods you saved us from that! At this rate you'll prove as necessary to me as your brother."
"Oh, fie! I will wager you say that to all the women."
We reached the upper Euphrates at Europos, which the Syrians call Karchemis. Here we saw again the frantic commercial hustle of a Syrian town. Everywhere people made things: jewelry and glassware and weapons and embroidered garments. Everybody who was not molding glass or hammering gold or stitching cloth was lying in wait to sell his wares.
When we had camped outside the walls, I entered the town with Elisas to buy provisions. Pyrron went along, too, because, he said, he could not bear to miss any new sights.
As soon as we put foot upon the narrow, muddy street that wound between the jutting angles of mud-brick houses, hawkers swarmed about us. Their voices rose to a roar.
"Lovely beads for your lady!" "This dagger is forged from the magical ore of Damascus! Feel the point!" "This flask of perfume will melt a heart of stone!" "Look at this fine tunic! Just feel these goods!" "Naughty pictures, to give your comrades a laugh!" "How about a beautiful rug for your tent?" "Come, O Hellene, and meet my sister! Nice clean girl, very passionate!"
I was about to buy a string of beads for Nirouphar when Elisas said in Greek: "Stay away from them, Troop Leader. Let me handle purchases. I know my own folk. Bastards."
I should have taken the sutler's advice without comment, but Pryron had to pry further into matters. "That's a peculiar thing to say, Elisas. Why are you so severe with your own nation?"
Elisas shrugged. "Because I am one. Born in Chalybon. I know their good and bad points. Skillful workers, shrewd merchants. Very religious; castrate selves for love of goddess Atargatis. But not philosophers. Not soldiers any more either."
"How did this come about?" said Pyrron. "Do you mean you were fighters once?"
"Oh yes, mighty warriors, like great king Keretos. But all separate; each city with its own little king. We could not get together to fight foreigners, so they always conquered us: Egyptians, Judaeans, Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, and now Macedonians."
Pyrron smiled. "That sounds like Hellas."
"It is. And it will be the same with you Hellenes, divided into many little quarreling states. You will see. But from being conquered so often we have lost our—how would you say—self-respect." Elisas sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could be a fine warrior and gentleman like you. But Baalos did not make me one, and it is too late to change." He wept.
This confession made me feel friendlier towards the little man than ever before. I gave him a gentle clap on the back, which all but felled him, and said: "Cheer up, laddie! If you're no swordsman, at least you foresee what supplies we shall need. That's no mean virtue."
During our stay in Europos, Elisas went around with the mien of one sunk in deepest gloom, though he brushed aside my questions as to what ailed him. When we were packing to leave, he came to me with a moneybag and said: