"If you like; though it's the man who makes us believe the oath, not the oath the man."
Each made a nick in his arm, sucked the other's blood, and swore a mighty oath. Far away a lion roared, and overhead great white stars shone coldly.
Next morning, in a glow of quiet self-satisfaction, Myron returned to his room from his farewell to his lady friend. He paid off his landlord, gathered his gear, and went to the barracks to find Bessas.
The Bactrian was not there. After waiting for a Babylonian double hour, Myron learnt that Bessas was bidding his mother farewell.
Zarina was settled in a room, small but not uncomfortable, in the palace of Darius. A pair of burly guards stood before the door. Inside, Myron found the lady and her son seated side by side on the bed and weeping. Zarina was saying:
"... if an old woman like me die a year sooner or later it matters not. But you are young; you must live out your life—"
"I will not live it out without you!" said Bessas. "If you die thus, I will die, too!"
"What is all this dismal talk of dying?" said Myron.
"My mother," said Bessas, "has a mad idea, to wit: after I have been gone for a few months, to give me a good start for the frontiers, she'll slay herself, thus robbing Xerxes of his hold over me. I tell her that, if she do any such thing, I will slay myself when I learn of it."
"It is the only way—" began Zarina, but Myron broke in:
"My dear Lady Zarina! We must all die, and let us hope we shall face death with fortitude. But let us' not hasten our terminus. I didn't save your son just to have the pair of you threaten each other with suicide. You remind me of a story I heard in Babylon."
"What is that?" asked Zarina.
"When I studied there under the astronomer Naburimanni, I once became despondent because I could not seem to master the arcane Babylonian art of long division. But, when I uttered some such foolish threat as yours, my wise old teacher told me this tale, of the times of the great King Nebuchadrezzar.
"It seems that a third assistant pastry cook in the royal kitchens was caught in the act of stealing a lamb, which was to have been cooked for the king's supper. So the king, full of righteous wrath, ordered that the felon be flayed alive the next day.
"As the thief was being led out to execution, the king passed by in his chariot. And the condemned man called out: 'O King! If you will grant me a reprieve, I will teach one of your horses to sing a hymn to Nabu, which will greatly please the god.'
" 'Are you mad?' said the king.
" 'Nay, sire,' said the thief; 'I do but make you a sporting offer.'
" 'How long would this course of instruction take?' said the king.
" 'Give me a year, Your Majesty,' said the thief.
" 'So be it,' said the king. 'But, if you fail, know that you shall die as before.'
"So the thief was established in a place near the stables, to begin teaching the horse. And one of the guards posted over him asked: 'What silly business is this, about teaching a horse to sing hymns? You know you cannot do it.'
" 'Well, perhaps I can and perhaps I cannot,' said the thief. 'But even if I fail, I have a year. And during that year the king may die, or the horse may die, or I may die; and in any of these cases I shall be better off. And who knows? Peradventure I shall teach the horse to sing hymns after all!'
"So, my dear but foolish friends, let us not anticipate more troubles than we must. Who knows? Perhaps we shall find our dragon and win Xerxes' gratitude after all."
Bessas and his mother dried their tears, smiled wan smiles, and embraced for the last time. Then Bessas followed his teacher back to the barracks.
Again, King Xerxes sat in Ostanas' chamber, facing the wizard across the table. On the table stood a small brazier with three bronzen legs, which ended in reptilian claws. In the brazier glowed a small fire of charcoal. Ostanas fanned the flame until the lumps of charcoal brightened from red to vermilion.
Then the magician began dropping jasmine seeds into the charcoal, one at a time. There was a delicate hiss and crackle. Otherwise all was silent, save for the breathing of the men and the click of the hyena's claws as it paced its cage.
A thread of blue smoke arose from the brazier, to curl back upon itself in coils and arabesques. At times the column rose straight to above the level of the watchers' eyes; then it broke into a mass of writhing coils. Ostanas' eyes gleamed beneath his shaggy white brows.
"What says the smoke?" demanded Xerxes.
Ostanas took his time. At last he said: "They may succeed; but only if the gods so will it."
Xerxes snorted. "A prophetic ambiguity worthy of Delphoi! How could you lose?"
Ostanas spread his hands. "Your slave does his best, but the world of magical science is not to be coerced."
"Can you give me the details?"
"I was coming to that, my master. I saw them returning with a monster. Yet something—perhaps my fravashi—told me that dangers hem their path and may destroy them ere they reach us."
"What shall we do?"
"The unseen powers have not yet informed me. I will seek enlightenment in dreams and consult the glittering stars."
"Speaking of dreams," said the king, "I had a hideous one ere I awoke. I dreamt that I lay on my bed, with one of my women beside me. A man stooped over the bed, raising a knife to plunge it into my heart. At first I weened it was my brother Masistes, red with blood. Then I saw that the face of the figure was but a mask, like those which actors wear on the Greek stage. I struggled, with one hand to hold back the knife and with the other to tear away the mask. But the mask would not move, whilst the knife came ever closer. I awoke screaming, with the eunuchs running to and fro in the chamber like frightened Indian fowl. What make you of it?"
"That will require study of the records of ancient oneiromancers. If my master—"
The king's private knock interrupted. Xerxes called: "Enter!"
A stout Persian, with a permanent smile and darkly darting eyes, stood bowing in the door. "Your slave, Great King!"
"Aye, Artabanus?"
"Your slave has been reliably informed that the persons after whom the King of Kings inquired—Bessas son of Phraates and Myron son of Perseus—departed according to plan, one hour after noon, on the Shushan road."
"Thank you, good Artabanus."
"The utmost appreciation is hereby expressed by your slave, that this small piece of information should have met with my lord and master's approbation. And now, if my unworthy self may present this report whereof I have spoken—"
"I want the King's Eye named Datas!"
"But, sire, this said report is considered to be of the utmost moment, dealing as it does with alleged unrest in die province of Egypt. Your slave estimates that it will not consume above two hours—"
"Curse you, get me Datas!" shouted Xerxes, almost in a scream.
When Artabanus had bowed himself out, the king said: "I know not why he so provokes me. The hazarapat is a brave warrior and a competent governor. Yet his way of wrapping every word in a thick layer of unctuous formality renders dealing with him repulsive. I verily believe he desires to slay me by boredom."
"We must maintain the royal dignity," said Ostanas.
"Certes, but Artabanus lays it on so thickly that I suspect him of laughing in his beard at me. And yet, he knows all the threads of authority and influence so well that I could not replace him."
"Of course," murmured Ostanas, "if Your Majesty took a more active part in administration, as once you did—"
"Ahriman take you, Ostanas; tell me not how to run my realm! If the quest prove successful, I shall have things to consider of more moment than these endless, tedious reports on unrest in Egypt, drouth in Chorasmia, nomadic raids in Bactria, and—"