Vardanas said: "Tell us what you have learned so far. Give us a summary."
Pyrron said: "I'm sorry, old boy, but I can't."
"Diplomatic secrets?"
"No. If I told you the tale, I should never get it written. That's how it is with writing. I can be full of enthusiasm over some treatise I'm going to write and even get some of it on papyrus. But then some chap invites me to dinner and begs me to tell it to him. As I'm fond of talking and don't like to refuse a reasonable request, I do. Then I find that all my vital force has leaked away, like wine from a punctured skin, and the work is never completed." He sighed. "That's no doubt why I have never written a real book in my life, though I've collected material for a hundred."
"Then dinna even think of telling us," I said. "For a chance to get our lovely silver back, we can bridle our curiosity."
The next half month we spent in repairing our gear and resting up for the next leg of the journey. When rain roared on the roofs, when snow scudded through the streets, when the bitter wind howled around the corners, we were glad to be behind Mazaka's stout stone walls and not out on the bleak tableland.
Then the weather softened. I went to the commandant of the garrison, Tibios, and asked him to lend us back our weapons. I explained:
"The lads have been pressing on for so long that they're out of practice at formal maneuvers. I desire to exercise them."
At first, Tibios curtly refused. He was sure we were up to some desperate scheme. Our position was a little odd, as we were technically captured enemies.
At last I set Vardanas on Tibios. Soon the Persian's charm had softened the old Kappadokian's suspicions, like butter in the sun, and he agreed to joint exercises with his men. Thus, he frankly explained, there would always be a strong armed force to watch us. So we galloped and threw our darts in company with Tibios' gray-bearded veterans and fuzzy-cheeked striplings.
Otherwise Mazaka was a sleepy little capital, the more so when the king and most men of fighting age had left. A minister named Myattales ran the kingdom in the king's absence, but he let us alone and we had no dealings with him.
I saw almost nought of Nirouphar, who dwelt with the king's womenfolk and, Vardanas told me, thrilled them with her tales of feminine fashions in great cities like Sousa and Babylon.
Rumors swept the city: King Arivarates had repelled Antigonos; Antigonos had defeated and slain the king; the king had wiped out all the Macedonians and was advancing to the conquest of Phrygia ...
At last a rider galloped in from the west and vanished into Myattales' study. The minister came out on the front steps of the palace. A trumpeter blew a flourish. When hundreds of Mazakans had gathered, Myattales made a short announcement, which was translated for me as follows:
"Our Lord the king has defeated the Hellenes. Those of the enemy who were not slain or captured have fled back to Phrygia. The king returns at the head of his army tomorrow or the next day. Give thanks to Ma for this victory."
The Mazakans nodded, grunted a few approving words, and went their ways. Not for them any bonfires or drunken revels in celebration!
Two days later the king rode in. First came his long column of heavy horse; then his peasant levies; then groaning wainloads of wounded; then several score of wretched-looking prisoners; and lastly a mounted rear guard.
There were speeches on the front steps of the palace, of which I understood not a word. The royal family came out to kiss the king and his son, the latter with his arm in a sling. Pyrron, red-eyed and swaying (for he had not slept in two nights), stepped up and handed a big roll of papyrus to the king.
"This is the history of the noble and ancient kingdom of Kappadokia," he said. "If it looks rather messy, O King, that's because it is a mere rough draft with corrections. Zardokes will soon have a smooth copy prepared for you."
The king opened the scroll, glanced it over, then folded Pyrron in a bearlike hug and gave him a loud smacking kiss.
"So? You are a good boys, even if you are a fornicating Hellene!" he roared. "Now you have to write another chapter, about how old Arivarates beat the skirt off Antigonos! I tell you about it at dinner."
At the feast of victory, the king related with gusto how he had caught the invaders in the marshes south of Lake Tatta. The turning point of the battle came when Antigonos sent a company of Macedonian foot across ground that turned out to be boggy.
"They got stuck," said the king. "My peasant boys do not like to face men in armor, because we are too poor for that kind of luxuries. But now they swarmed over these poor stuck Greeks, and those huge long spears did no good at close quarters. Everywhere was Hellenes in shiny breastplates shouting 'Quarter! Mercy!' Well, we chased them halfway to Ikonion. Antigonos rode off with his cavalry, and some of their foot got away into the hills this side of Ikonion. But I do not think Antigonos will try another invasion this years."
The weather now turned balmy. I went to Prince Arivarates and said: "Could we now set out for Ephesos?"
"I think so," said he, with his usual air of gravity beyond his years. "You will still get a lot of cold wind, but except in a bad year we seldom have snow so late."
"How about our money?"
A smile lit the prince's somber young face. "As I expected, my father is delighted with Pyrron's history. So you will find your money chest restored to you intact." He lowered his voice. "In fact, since you have been hard put to it to keep to your schedule of expenses, I have taken the liberty of adding twenty talents to it on my own responsibility."
"O Prince!" I cried. I knelt and kissed his hand.
"I feel we can afford it, because we captured Antigonos' pay cart containing hundreds of talents' worth of money. Antigonos either expected to campaign in Katpatouka all summer or hoped to bribe some of our barons to go over to him. But pray say nothing of this. My father admires Greek philosophy, but not that much."
"What's to become of our slaves?"
"Those my father is determined to keep. One, a good Katpatoukan, will be freed. The other my father will put to good use. If you must have more, you can buy them in Alexander's territory."
Thus we set out from Mazaka on the second of Mounychion. The king and the prince saw us off with great cordiality. The king slapped our backs, kissed us, and bellowed jokes, while the prince bowed gravely and shook our hands.
In later years, after Alexander's death, Eumenes invaded Kappadokia on the orders of Perdikkas the regent. Eumenes defeated and captured old King Arivarates, whom he crucified along with his chief men. Prince Arivarates escaped to Armenia. During the wars of the Successors, the prince retook Kappadokia with the aid of Arkloathos of Armenia. There he yet reigns, and very ably, too. So, belike, the elder Arivarates' boast about the freedom of Kappadokia may come true after all.
King Arivarates sent a small troop of light horse with us. He said it was to protect us, but I think it was to make sure we did no warlike acts against him.
Returning to Tyana, we stopped to witness the spring festival in honor of the local goddess of fertility. The priests built a bonfire, dug a trench, and filled it with glowing coals from the fire. Whilst a band of musicians played a monotonous little tune on lyres and flutes and drums, six priestesses in paint and bangles girt up their skirts to the knee and walked the length of the trench barefoot on the hot embers.
Somebody belched behind me. It was Vardanas, who had filled himself with barley beer at the inn. "I can do that," he said.