Xerxes sat on his throne, with his feet on a golden footstool footed with golden bulls' hooves. Two attendants flanked him. Although it was night and indoors, one held the royal parasol over his head, while the other stood by with a fly swatter and a napkin, in case the king were troubled by a noxious insect or wished to blow his nose.
Farther to either side stood guards from the Elamite battalion of the Immortals, wearing embroidered knee-length coats, close-fitting trousers, and low twisted turbans. They rested on their toes the golden balls on the butts of their spears. A score of slaves, trying to look inconspicuous while standing by in case the king wished an errand run, clustered in corners.
The king's prominent eyes were more bloodshot than ever, and a hasty job with paint and powder merely added to his years. He wore an old robe of state, dimmed by dirt and dotted with food stains. He peered myopically and rasped:
"You are Myron the tutor, are you not?"
Myron and Zarina had, upon rising, thrust their hands into their sleeves as court procedure required. Myron spoke: "It is as the Great King says."
"Well, speak up!"
"God give Your Highness life—"
"Never mind that, Ionian; say what you mean."
"It is well known that my master fosters the increase of human knowledge. Where your great father sent Skylax down the—"
Zarina broke in to cry: "King of All Kings, spare my baby! He has fought bravely for you—"
"Guard!" said Xerxes. "Take the lady Zarina to an anteroom and keep her there until I command otherwise. Go on, Ionian."
"As your slave was saying, where the great Darius sent Skylax down the Indus, you have dispatched Sataspes to circumnavigate Africa. But more could be done to glorify the royal name and benefit the realm; namely, to send out another such expedition. It is an old and excellent Persian custom to do things in pairs, so that if one fail—"
"What had you in mind?"
"There are several possibilities. One is the circumnavigation of the Hyrkanian Sea to determine whether, as some aver, it communicates with the ocean. But my main argument concerns not the direction of the effort, but its leadership. If—"
"No doubt you are thinking of young Bessas," said Xerxes.
"True, sire; how did you know?"
"Much is known to My Majesty."
"Well, here is a man of extraordinary size and strength, a ferocious fighter and a seasoned—"
Xerxes held up his golden scepter. "Enough, my good Myron. My Majesty has already decided. Justice requires that Bessas be given the same chance to earn his life as his fellow criminal. He shall not, however, sail the stormy Sea of Varkana. I have another task for him. What know you of the sources of the Nile?"
Myron: "An Egyptian has informed your slave that, beyond Kush, the Nile rises from a pair of conical mountains, formed like the paps of a woman, each with a fountain at the top."
"Very well. My man of science, Ostanas, requires two rare things for his work. One is the ear of a king."
"Did you say the ear of a king, sire?"
"You heard me aright. The other is a dragon like those depicted on the Ishtar Gate in Babylon ..."
Xerxes repeated what he had earlier told Ostanas about the sirrush.
"... so the beast must be brought hither alive," he concluded. "It is no small thing that I command; but there is no help for it. If Bessas would live, let him perform this service."
Myron, his heart pounding, drew a deep breath and gathered his courage. "May I, too, go on this expedition, sire?"
"Wherefore should you wish to do that?"
"Well—Bessas is a mighty warrior whose glance flashes lightning, but literary he is not, and you will wish a well-written account of the journey for the archives."
The king smiled faintly. "That is not a bad reason. But I will wager that you have a better one—one concerning your own advantage. Tell me what it is."
Myron smiled in turn. "Your Majesty can see a mouse through a millstone. I wish to observe things that no man has yet seen and learn things that no man yet knows. Besides, I come of a people who number many heroes among their forebears. Teaching in the capitals of the Empire is pleasant—especially when I can catch glimpses of Your Majesty—but hardly heroic. So pray let your slave accompany Bessas."
"I see no objection."
"Then may I—" Myron began, eager to start for the execution ground to save Bessas, whose time must be drawing short. But the king spoke:
"This Hellenic passion to see all and pry into all is a curious new form of insanity. I am told that there are even people among you called wisdom-lovers, who devote their entire lives to this pursuit. How do you pronounce it? Fir—firos—"
"Philosophers, sire. Your slave studied under one of the great ones, Herakleitos of Ephesos. I hope some day to be considered a wisdom-lover myself. And now may—"
"Curious," persisted Xerxes, running his fingers through his beard. "I should not care to rule an entire nation of these wisdom-lovers. They would demand a reason for every command or ever they obeyed it, and nought would get done.
"Meanwhile we must set a time limit to this expedition, or Bessas may think to disappear into the wilds of Africa and never return. How far is this land of dragons?"
Myron scowled in concentration. "I could tell better in the archives, Highness, where the maps and manuscripts lie. But, as a rough estimate, I should say it were about four hundred leagues from here to Memphis; three hundred more to Kush; and several hundred—no man knows how many—thence to the source of the Nile. I would allow at least a thousand leagues each way. If I may—"
"At ten leagues a day, you could make the journey each way in a hundred days, or two hundred altogether. Allowing for stops, you can easily catch your dragon and be back by this date next year."
"O King!" cried Myron. "We could never do it so quickly."
"Why not? My postmen cover twenty or thirty leagues every day."
"But sire! Your couriers follow well-trodden routes, and when one mount or team becomes fatigued they change it at a relay station. We shall command no such facilities, and we shall be burdened with extra people, weapons, and other necessary things. We cannot cover the whole vast distance at a gallop. Moreover, the latter part of our journey lies deep into unknown country, where roads may not exist, and where we may be imprisoned by some barbarian king or attacked by some wild tribe. By straining every sinew, perhaps we can return in two years. Now, with Your Majesty's permission—"
"Ridiculous!" growled the king. "At worst, I see not how you would need more than a year and a quarter. I will tell you. Be at Persepolis on the first of Duuzu of next year, with your dragon. Now, you will require documents—man, why do you hop and fidget like a mouse in a chamber pot? Have you a flux of the bowels?"
"Great King!" cried Myron, who had been glancing with growing nervousness at the waxing light that came through the door of the great hall. "Bessas is to be executed at dawn, and dawn is upon us!"
"Well, why said you not so sooner? Begone! You will arrive in time, as nought begins when it is supposed to. Here! Come back! You do not think the executioners will halt on your mere word, do you? Show them this ring. Fetch it back, together with your man!"
Xerxes tossed his seal ring. Myron leaped, caught it, and dashed out. It was raining. He slipped on the wet steps of the Apadana and almost fell off the platform, but saved himself by catching one of the stepped triangular crenelations of the parapet. He dodged around a group of stonecutters, who had arrived early to work on an uncompleted relief, and ran down the stair to the Gate of All Nations. Here a pair of guards thrust themselves in his way until another guard called down from the platform of the Apadana that all was well.