I came forward and presented the king's letter, saying: "O Xenokrates, I am Leon of Atrax, an officer of King Alexander. The king sends you this letter, together with the sum of fifty talents. Give him the money, Inaudos."
The Kordian heaved the five fifty-pound bags out of the cart. One after another they fell to the ground with a musical jingle. Xenokrates opened one and pulled out a fistful of staters. His pupils clustered round. One tried to lift a moneybag and grunted in surprise at the weight, for it does not take a large bag to hold fifty pounds of gold.
"Herakles!" said the philosopher. "How much money said you?"
" 'Tis the equivalent of fifty talents of silver," I said.
The old man gave a long whistle and fell silent while he read the king's letter. At last he said: "Let's go inside to discuss this matter."
When we were seated on a bench in his indoor classroom, and the money had been hauled in, too, he said: "With all due respect, O Leon, your king must be—ah—mad. I have done nothing to earn such a sum."
"I know nought of that, Xenokrates. I do but carry out my orders."
"Dear me! What could I do with so much money? I am comfortably off, between my own small patrimony and the fees of my pupils. This vast fortune would, I am sure, only involve me in scandals and swindles. Take it back to Alexander."
"What!" I cried. "Are you daft?"
"Take it back. I want it not."
"But I canna! I was commanded to give you this gold and get receipts. Taking it back would mean setting out on another ten months' journey, through the same toils and perils I thought to have escaped. Furthermore, when I've made delivery and sent off my final report, my commission will end. I shall no longer be a servant of the king."
Xenokrates spread his hands. "I know not what to say. Then keep it yourself, or drop it into Phaleron Bay. It's no concern of mine."
"I dare not. The king has a long reach. Take the money and give it away yourself, if that's how you feel. As Aisopos says, we oft despise that which is most useful to us."
"Not I! If—ah—word got around that I was giving away a fortune, every rogue and sponger in Attika would be on my trail overnight. I should have no peace to think. I might have my throat cut." Xenokrates looked at me sharply. "Are you he who led the elephant ashore at Peiraieus this morning? My slave brought me some such tale, but I didn't believe him."
"Aye."
"What has become of the elephant?"
"As the king commanded, I delivered him to the Aristoteles."
"To that saucy braggart! O Zeus, is there no justice? Why sent the king not the elephant to Xenokrates, and this mass of trash"—he kicked a bag of gold—"to Aristoteles?"
"You must ask the king. But such being the case, surely you'll now take this gold! You would not have the Stageirite get ahead of you, would you?"
Xenokrates stroked his beard. "I will—ah—here is what I'll do. You say there's the equivalent of fifty talents of silver here?"
"Aye."
"And these bags are of equal weight?"
"Aye, or very nearly."
"That is"—Xenokrates closed his eyes while he did sums in his head—"thirty thousand drachmai. Well, I'll take one tenth of that, or three thousand drachmai." He put his head out the door and called to one of his students. "Myronides!"
When the youth came in, Xenokrates said: "Count the gold pieces in one of these bags into two equal piles. Take the rest back to the king, O Leon, and tell him I return it because he has many more folk in his service than I have, and so needs more money to pay them."
"But that leaves me as badly off as before!"
"I'm sorry, my dear young man, but what concern is that of mine? I accept this three thousand only because the school needs new books, and to keep ahead of the needle-nosed quibbler."
I continued the argument while Myronides sorted the staters, but to no avail. At last I said: "How about my receipt? I was told to get three copies."
"Ah—yes, of course." Xenokrates fumbled with his writing supplies. "Dear me, where did I put those sheets? Ah, here we are. I, Xenokrates son of Agathenor, of Kalchedon, hereby acknowledge receipt of the sum of three thousand drachmai, in gold, from Leon of Atrax. Done in the Akademeia in Attika on the fifth day from the end of Thargelion, in the archonship of Chremes."
Vardanas spoke: "Now I know the Hellenes are a mad folk. Most of you can smell a drachma at ten leagues and will tunnel through a mountain with your bare hands to get one. But lo! Here is a man who will not take them when they are honorably offered to him."
When the laugh died down he continued: "O philosopher, my friend here needs a receipt for the whole amount before he will be free of this millstone about his neck. If you want not the money, why not accept it, give him a receipt, and make him a gift of the part you will not keep? He can use it. So, for that matter, could I."
Xenokrates chuckled but tossed his head. "No, that would not be honest. I'll give a receipt only for the money I truly mean to keep. He must make his own arrangements with the king for the rest."
Vardanas' scheme seemed so reasonable that I, too, besought Xenokrates to change his mind, but the old fellow turned mulish. In the end, we rode back to Athens defeated, with Inaudos driving the cart containing gold worth twenty-seven thousand drachmai. Vardanas found my plight amusing.
"Your honesty does you credit, though," he said. "Most of your countrymen would simply hire some guards and a ship and set out for some western land, money and all."
"Basely won gains are the same as losses, but 'tis not wholly a matter of honesty. I've served Alexander many years and know how long he can hold a grudge. Suppose I fled to Syracuse, let's say? If my own guards did not murder me for the treasure, a year or so later some mysterious strangers would arrive in Syracuse. Presently, I should be found with my throat well cut, and what was left of the money would be on its way back to the king."
"Wellaway!" he said. "I suppose I must go back to Sousa some time. I shall be glad to go with you that far on your long road to India."
"Fornicate the long road to India! I'll find a way to get Xenokrates to take this money if I must needs turn Athens upside down!"
Epikerdes, the Thessalian consul, told me: "My own house is full of visiting Thessalians, but I can get you quarters in the house of Syloson of Mylai. My appropriation will cover seven nights' free board and lodging at Syloson's, but after that you'll have to pay him."
"How much does he want?"
"You must ask him, old boy, but I should think three oboloi a day for yourself and your servant would cover it."
"Has he room for anybody else?"
"I think he has. It's a big house in which he rattles around since his children left home. Why?"
" 'Tis my Persian friends here. As they're well born, I am not eager to inflict the bugs and cutpurses of the usual Athenian inn upon them."
The consul pursed his lips. "The Persians have never kept a consul here, but, with Alexander uniting the world, who knows what strange things may not happen? You could ask Syloson, though I warn you he may be horrified by the idea of taking in foreigners."
Syloson, a bony, pock-marked, gray-bearded Thessalian with a missing ear, welcomed me at the door of his house in the Skambonidai.
"Rejoice, O Leon!" he said. His face fell when he saw the Persians behind me. "Who are these?"
"Merely friends, come to see me settled." I presented the pair.
Syloson acknowledged the introduction gruffly and led me to my room. There was some difficulty over Inaudos, who as a free man objected to being put in with the slaves. As I had become fond of the swaggering Kordian, I settled matters by bedding him in my own room, albeit it crowded me.