"No deeds of blood in Persepolis!" said Bagabyxas.
Zopyrus grinned. "Fear riot. I shall merely collect the debt of gratitude owed me by Puzur the Ouxian."
When Myron opened the door of Hutrara's wineshop, the blast of noise and the smell of sweat and stale beer struck him in the face like a blow. The place was jammed. All those within appeared to be drinking and shouting at the same time. Some, having brought their suppers, were eating as well. At last Myron made out Bessas' heavy, pock-marked visage in a distant corner.
"Make room for my friend!" roared Bessas.
When those on the bench beside him did not respond, he pushed against the nearest with his shoulder, so that all slid down the bench and the last man fell off the end. The fallen man scrambled up with a curse, feeling for his knife. Then he recognized Bessas and subsided.
"Heed these knaves not," said Bessas. "Squeeze in here and have some beer. Greek or no, you had better learn to like beer, for that's all they have in Egypt."
"Thank you," said Myron, "but I think it were desirable to go out to talk. One must shout to make oneself heard here, and we would not reveal our plans to everyone from Karia to Carthage—"
"To Ahriman with your Greek moderation! This is my last chance for a decent carouse, and I mean to make the most of it." Bessas wiped the froth from his mustache, closed his eyes, and silently moved his fingers and lips. Then he spoke:
"We can return to drink anon, when the crowd has thinned," said Myron. "If you become intoxicated now, you'll not understand me when—"
Bessas made a vulgar noise. "Either drink here with me, or go jump in the Kurush."
"So you don't care what befalls your mother?"
Bessas glowered at the older man. "May you be kin-less! You would think of that. I'll come."
The Bactrian rose with a belch and staggered towards the door. Outside, he said:
"Because I obey you this time, do not think that you are the leader. This is my expedition and I command it, do you understand?"
"How did you do for money?" asked Myron.
They climbed the stair leading to the top of the city wall and, leaning their elbows on the crenelations of the parapet, looked out over the plain. The sky had cleared. A narrow stripe of gold and apple-green along the jagged western horizon told of the departure of the day. Overhead the stars had come out; a silver scimitar of a moon hung a hand's breadth above the western peaks. Bats wheeled overhead as the darkness deepened. From the cultivated fields that spread out before them came the buzz and chirp of insects and the cries of night birds. Jackals yelped in the distance.
"I got the twenty-five darics out of Vaus," said Bessas, "and I talked another five out of my battalion commander as an advance against my pay. I had to argue my throat sore to get part of it in gold, so as not to have to haul ten pounds of silver all over the world. Those knaves in the treasury love to give up their gold as Xerxes loves the Athenians."
"Have you nothing saved up?"
"A few shekels only, and those I must leave with Norax to buy things for Mother." Norax was Bessas' Sardinian slave, who had lighted the way to Myron's house for Zarina. "If I had more money, I should have bought horses."
Myron slapped a mosquito. "It's too bad that all this had to happen when you had gambled away your horses."
"Yes, teacher. And twit me not on my follies, unless you wish a tumble from the wall. Oh, well, we may stumble upon a chance to loot the treasure of some foreign king or nobleman. But I have got us passage as far as Shushan, at least."
"How?"
"One of my brother officers agreed to let me take two of his horses to Shushan and deliver them to his groom there. Soon the court will move to Hagmatana for the summer months, and my friend will pick up his horses on the way thither. I promised not to race the nags."
Myron said: "I don't suppose they would permit you to take your Nisaean stallion?"
"Varuna, no! The king won't let one of those steeds out of his grip. My trouble is that a horse, to do me any good, must be nigh as big as a Nisaean. If you put me on some little pony, the beast drops dead within" the first league."
"We could have used that pair the king sacrificed to Mithra the day before yesterday."
"Grudge not the Lord of the Wide Pastures his meed. How fared you in the archives?"
"I obtained lists of towns as far as Meroê, in Kush, with notes on distances and dangers. Nobody seems to know what lies beyond Meroê. And I made a rough map of our route. Did you see your mother?"
"Aye." The Bactrian fell silent. Myron knew that his feeling for his mother was a subject on which Bessas would not wish to speak.
Myron began: "And I have a letter from a friend in Shushan, Uni the Egyp—"
He stopped as light, sound, and motion came from the Shushan Gate below them and a score of paces to their right. Torchlight flickered redly; fragments of words drifted up on the still night air.
Two horsemen rode out from the gate, one carrying a torch. They spurred to a canter and headed westward on the Shushan road. The torch flared as the riders began to move rapidly, then dwindled to an orange speck, like a sluggish shooting star. Myron said:
"I could swear I knew the leading horseman. But I cannot quite—"
Bessas grunted. "Dip me in dung if that be not Zopyrus son of Bagabyxas, with his beard in a bag! After he was so eager to see me impaled, I could not help knowing him, even by torchlight. And the other is his armor bearer."
"Would that I had your eyes!" said Myron. "I trust Zopyrus' errand has nothing to do with us. He would not gallop the length of the Empire to fetch us Hippolyta's belt, I'm sure."
"I like it not either. Whatever it be, it must be urgent, to set out at a run on a moonless night on these polluted roads. My fravashi tells me that we had better be off soon, too."
"How about equipment?"
"We'll buy it in Babylon, where they have proper markets. Let's catch some sleep and be off with the false dawn. You have no family to concern you, have you?"
"No. I have a woman friend, but a hasty farewell must suffice her. I must, however, make arrangements for my pupils and take time to gather writing materials."
"What for? I've galloped all over the eastern marches of the Empire and led troops of the king's horse without writing a word. Not that anybody can read my writing anyway."
"Bessas!" said Myron in a pained tone. "After all the trouble I took over your penmanship!"
Bessas clapped his smaller companion on the back. "Cheer up; I'm happy to be unlettered in half a dozen tongues. I find sharp steel of more avail in my trade than pen and parchment, and so will you on this journey."
"But somebody must keep a journal! Otherwise we shall never know if we are returning in time. Moreover, the king expects a report on the foreign lands we visit."
"Vaush; see you to it. One more thing!"
"What's that?"
"We must swear fidelity to each other, lest we break up over some petty quarrel halfway to our goal. I have not the sweetest nature in the world, and I know how fickle you Hellenes are."
"Ea! We are not! What makes you—"
"Ha! What of Pausanias the Spartan king? What of the treachery of the Samians at Ladê? Now, cut your arm a little and swear by all your gods that you will adhere faithfully to me and be my friend, helper, and defender, sharing in need and standing fast in danger, until our quest be done or until death part us!"