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"So, old friend, unless you wish to throw in your lot with the Banu Khalaf—which would surprise me, as they are neither literate nor concerned with things of the mind—this will be our last long ride together. What was that doggerel I made up at the start of our journey?"

Though thieves and lions in my pathway lie, And whores and merchants seek to wring me dry, With iron-hearted friends to guard my back, I'll stride the dusty road until I die!

"Know that this dusty road may be the road to death for me. Whatever else I may have done, I have not brought Xerxes his dragon, nor yet returned within the allotted time."

"My dear boy, do you really think he might have you killed for not catching a beast that does not exist?"

"Who says it exists not? I and my Pygmy friends, against the solemn averment of the holy priests of Marduk, who certes will not avouch their fraud! And Xerxes, who loves me not, may seize upon such a pretext for seating me upon the stake."

"Must you make this journey to Persepolis, then? Why not stay here with your family, as one of the Arabs urged?"

Bessas quaffed deeply. "I must go. And even if all go well as regards old Popeyes, I dread what my mother will say when she learns of my marriages. For fifteen years she has striven to wed me to some girls of decent Aryan family. I'm as terrified when I think of her as I was that morning we invaded the lair of the devil ape."

"Were you really frightened? You concealed it most masterfully."

Bessas belched. "Ha! I all but had the piss scared out of me. But could I, as leader, show fear before that motley band of knaves? Ahriman, no! Their habit of obedience would have fallen from them like the shackles from a manumitted slave. So let's drown these fearsome fantasms of the future in the Banu Khalaf's lousy date wine."

When bogles grim before your footsteps rise, And lowering thunderclouds benight the skies, Drink, and the phantoms scatter into mist; Drink, and the juice your omen drear denies!

The sound of a song and the rhythmic clapping of hands wafted into the tent. An Arab appeared in the opening, ducked his head in a little bow, and touched his finger tips to heart, lips, and forehead.

"Ya Shaykh! The dance begins!"

Bessas set down his cup with a sigh. "In truth, I had rather sit here and drink and talk with you, but I must needs forth to skip and stamp the long night through. Ah me, the pains of principate! Will you join the dance?"

Myron smiled. "No, thank you. One of the few compensations of age is that one need not engage in such antics if one doesn't wish to, and I mean to take advantage of it!"

XIX – The Palace of the King

On the afternoon of the sixteenth of Abu, in the twenty-first year of Xerxes' reign, a summer sun blazed in the clear blue Persian sky. The chief eunuch, Aspamitres, went in haste to the palace of Darius, where his master was closeted with the wizard Ostanas.

"Great King!" said Aspamitres. "A band of Arabs on camels has arrived, praying to see Your Majesty forthwith. They bring with them a curious beast, which they say is a gift."

Xerxes and Ostanas exchanged a stare of surmise. The king said: "By the God of the Aryans! Can this be that ruffian of Zariaspa? When the time limit passed without a word, I thought he had perished or fled. But better late than never. I will see these men."

"Will the King of All Kings receive the men inside the Apadana?" asked the eunuch.

"Nay; it is the beast that concerns me the most. Prepare a reception on the steps before the Apadana."

Half an hour later, trumpets cried out before the great audience hall. Lines of spearmen snapped to attention. Behind the Immortals churned a crowd as colorful as a Persian flower garden in bloom. Courtiers and officials and their wives had gathered to see the sight. The sun sparkled on jewels and gleamed on gilded armor.

On the pave below stood a score of men in Arabian garb, dusty from travel. Their sun-darkened faces were lean and weary. A pock-marked giant towered over the rest. In the rear stood three small brown men, in Arab children's garb, holding the bridle of an exotic beast.

Painted and scented, King Xerxes strode out upon the portico of the Apadana. Down went the courtiers, the officials, and the Arabs, to touch the ground with their foreheads.

"Rise," said the king.

An usher struck the stones with his staff and cried: "My lord King! Bessas of Zariaspa has returned from the mission on which you dispatched him!" He led the giant forward.

"Are you truly Bessas son of Phraates?" asked Xerxes, peering nearsightedly.

"Aye, sire." Bessas tucked his arms into his sleeves and bowed from the waist.

"As Auramazda lives, I had never known you! How fared your mission?"

"May it please the Great King, your slave has been to the headwaters of the Nile, even as you commanded, and I—"

"That is no sirrush," said Xerxes sharply, gesturing towards the okapi.

Ostanas whispered: "May your slave venture to suggest that the Great King let the young man finish?"

"Go on," said Xerxes.

"Your slave," Bessas resumed, "has attained the region of the great lakes, whence flows the Nile. There I diligently inquired amongst the peasants and hunters and fishermen, but all agreed that no such beast as the sirrush exists in those parts, or in any other region so far as I can tell. When Your Majesty commands, I can tell you somewhat of how the story of this beast began.

"Now, your slave begs leave to present those things that he did obtain. First, here is the ear-of an authentic king. In Egypt I sliced it from King Siptah's mummy."

Bessas handed the ear to a eunuch, who passed it on to the king. Xerxes fingered it with an expression of distaste and handed it to Ostanas.

"Next, I present to the King of All Kings the chief of a hunting tribe of the region whence flows the Nile, who prays you to enroll him as one of your tributary rulers and extend to him your protection. This is Dzaka, chief of the eastern Tikki-Tikki. With Dzaka are two of his subjects, Tshabi and Begendwé, bearing gifts, which they hope Your Majesty will graciously condescend to accept. Stand forth, O Dzaka!"

With great dignity, Dzaka limped forward, holding up his pot of honey. Behind him came Tshabi with the tusk and Begendwé leading the okapi. An usher fell in before them and led them up the steps until Dzaka confronted the king. In broken Persian he said:

"This for you, King."

Xerxes smiled broadly, showing his bad teeth. "I am delighted, Master Dzaka! I welcome you to the noble company of tributary kings of the Empire. You shall have my protection henceforth, and here is my hand on it."

After the king had gravely clasped hands with the solemn Dzaka, Tshabi muttered in his native tongue and handed the tusk to Xerxes, who passed it to Aspamitres. Begendwé then pressed the okapi's halter into the king's hand.

"What call you this?" said Xerxes, looking uneasily into the animal's large liquid eyes.

"Okapi," said Dzaka. "Live in wood."

"My Majesty is grateful," said Xerxes; then to Bessas: "Well, young man, although you have overrun your limit of time and failed to capture a sirrush, I cannot deny that you have exerted yourself on my behalf more effectively than the late Sataspes. I am charmed by my new subjects and the curious beast they have brought me. In fact, I have a thought for rendering this moment immortal.