"This was, they said, a sirrush, the divine beast of Marduk. Moreover, they offered to show me a living sirrush. Nothing loath, I followed them into a dark little room below the cella. There, in a cage, lay something that looked for all the world like a large gray lizard, above three cubits*(* 1 cubit = 1-1/2 feet.) in length.
"When I remarked on this, the priests assured me that the creature was a mere chick, which would in time attain the stature of a camel and the bulk of a buffalo; also, that it would grow the horns and other appendages shown in the reliefs."
"Where is this beast now?" Ostanas leaned forward in his eagerness.
"I wot not; it vanished during the sack of Babylon after the revolt. But I was told where these animals live."
"Indeed, sire?"
"Aye. When I asked where I might obtain such a beast for my menagerie, the priests averred that it dwelt at the source of the river Nile."
"God befriend you!" cried Ostanas. "That is farther than the kite flies. Who has ever been to the headwaters of the Nile? Not even the Egyptians, who live along this river, know whence it comes."
"That is the point," said the king. "None has, at least to my knowledge. But what of your other components?"
"Well, sire, we need the ear of a king for the following reason: Wise men believe that sound makes a permanent imprint upon whatever it passes through. To assure that the elixir shall strengthen the wisdom and mental powers of him who quaffs it, we must include a piece of matter through which spoken words of grave import have passed. And who hears words of more grave import than a king?"
"That were hardly practical," said Xerxes. "I cannot very well call in the tributary king of Cilicia and cut off his ear. Such ungentle treatment would surely drive him to revolt."
"Then my master must obtain this ear from outside his empire. Lastly there is the heart of a hero. The heart is the seat of the passions, affections, sentiments, and virtues. Therefore, to imbue the patient with perfect courage and greatness of soul, we require the heart of a fearless hero."
"That were even less easy," said the king. "Whilst I have some good men amongst my satraps and generals, I should be loath to sacrifice any one of them; nor were such treatment just. Whereas those who merit death for their crimes would not possess hearts of the requisite quality."
Ostanas smiled' thinly. "Sire, if you could find a man who would fetch hither a sirrush—alive, of course, so that its blood should be fresh—and the ear of a king, the third requirement would take care of itself."
Xerxes scowled, then laughed. "Ostanas, you shock me. For one who was taught by a pupil of the Great Magus himself, you are a wicked old scoundrel."
"It were for the good of the realm, sire. In such cases, private welfare must give way."
"Nay, nay, the Lord of Light would hate me for such perfidy. We must find another—"
The private knock, used by the king's bodyguards and trusted intimates, sounded.
"Come in!" said the king.
The door creaked open, and one of the bodyguards thrust in his beard. "O King! Prince Tithraustes seeks audience."
"At this hour? By the breasts of Anahita! What wishes he?"
There were murmurs in the hall outside. The guard said: "It is not for himself, sire, but for Myron the Milesian."
"The tutor? Well, what does he want?" More murmurs; then: "It has to do with Bessas of Zariaspa."
"Ahriman!" swore the king. "I have given my decision, and the law of the Persians and Medes cannot be set aside——"
Xerxes paused and stared through slitted eyelids at Ostanas. He said: "Know, old friend, that meseems the Good God has sent us the answer to our problem." He turned back to die door. "Say that the king will speak with Tithraustes and Myron in the audience chamber forthwith." Picking up his jeweled, gold-headed walking stick, Xerxes rose and left the chamber.
Ostanas gazed after him, still smiling. From its cage the hyena laughed. The magus swept up the three dead mice, stepped to the cage, and tossed them in. There were soft mouthing sounds and a faint crunch of small bones; then silence.
The former palace of Darius the Great stood on a spacious platform of scarped natural rock and limestone blocks, which towered forty feet above the plain and was in turn overshadowed by the Mountain of Mercy behind it. North, south, and east of Darius' palace loomed the other royal structures, most of them far larger than that modest edifice. Some, unfinished, were still spinous with scaffolding.
Clustered below the platform on the plain stood the mansions of Xerxes' nobles, the huts of their servants, and the shops and houses owned by the local people. Persepolis was only a small town. The king had other palaces in the teeming cities of Shushan and Babylon and Hagmatana. When, as happened several times each year, the king removed from one to another, his host of kinsmen, women, slaves, advisers, officials, generals, and grandees perforce moved with him.
On the night that King Xerxes consulted Ostanas, another man slept in a room that he leased from a Persepolitan shopkeeper. A violent knocking awoke this man. Yawning and cursing, he got up, stubbed his toe, and stumbled to the door. A glance through the peephole showed a veiled woman and, behind her, a slave upholding a burning link of rope and asphalt.
"Myron of Miletos!" cried the woman. "This is your dwelling, is it not?" She spoke Persian, in the dialect of the far northeast, pronouncing "Miletos" as "Miretush."
"Yes. Who are you, madam?"
"I am Zarina the widow of Phraates and mother of Bessas. Let me in! It is a matter of my son's life."
"Wait till I don some garments." Presently Myron slid back the bolt. Entering, the woman threw back her veil, showing abundant white hair. The light of a freshly lighted lamp revealed an austerely furnished chamber littered with manuscripts. Myron, a broad-shouldered man of medium height, wearing a Greek tunic over Persian pantaloons, said:
"It has been months since your slave has seen you, Lady Zarina. What is this about Bessas?"
"He—he is to be impaled at dawn for his part in the rape of Tamyra the Daduchid."
"What!" cried Myron. "I heard a rumor of the arrest of Sataspes, but I did not know that Bessas—"
"He was not—that is, he knew not—" Zarina began to weep and moan incoherently.
"Madam," said Myron, "dawn is not many hours off. Be seated and, if you wish assistance, try to give me an intelligible explanation."
Zarina brought herself under control and sat with a clatter of bangles. "I know not what you have heard. Two days past, the king received the acclaim of his nobles and the gifts of the bearers of tribute for the New Year—"
"I witnessed it," said Myron.
"Afterwards came the New Year's banquet. The nobles gorged and caroused, as is the custom, in the main dining hall. Know you the king's cousin Sataspes son of Teaspes?"
"I have seen him," said Myron.
"Well, this fool got even drunker than is to be expected and wandered out of the feast. In the halls he came upon Tamyra daughter of Zopyrus. Just how things went we know not, because Sataspes told divers tales, and the girl was too frightened to tell any sensible story at all.
"It seems he sat down and held her in his lap in an empty anteroom, in fatherly fashion. After all, he has children older than she. But presently his passions rose, and he flung her down, tore off her trousers, and had his will of her. At least, he sought to do so, though what of her struggling and his unsteadiness I do not think he truly—"
"Aiai!" Myron broke in. "Why must he pick the worst victim in the entire Empire? Not that I should ever condone rape, even of a humble serving maid; but the virgin daughter of the Daduchids! He must have been as mad as a maenad. Then what happened?"