Whenever I passed through the bazaar, I imagined people saying, “There goes Datis’ whore.” Yet I had to bring back some news, to satisfy my mistress. The rumors were running, ahead of truth, that the King had fought a great battle with Alexander, at Issos by the sea, and lost, escaping with his bare life on horseback, leaving his chariot and his arms. Well, he got away, I thought; there are some of us would think that luck enough.
As proper news came in by the Royal Road, we learned that the Harem had been taken, with the Queen Mother, the Queen, her daughters and her son. I pitied them; I had good cause to know their fate. The girls’ screams rang in my ears; I pictured the young boy flung upon the spears, as I would have been but for one man’s greed. However, never having seen these ladies, and being bound for the house of someone I knew too well, I kept some pity for myself.
Later it was put about, by someone who swore it came straight from Kilikia, that Alexander had set up the royal women in their own pavilion, untouched by man, with their household to serve them, and that even the boy was still alive. This tale was laughed at, for everyone knew that no one behaves like that in war, let alone western barbarians.
The King had fallen back on Babylon, and wintered there. But it grows hot in spring; without much state he returned to Susa, to rest from his labors, while his satraps mustered another army. I was kept at work, and could not see the royal cavalcade, which, like the boy I still partly was, I had set some store by. It seemed that Alexander had not marched inland where he had been expected, but had had the folly to sit down before Tyre, an island stronghold which would not fall in ten years. While he kept up this pastime, the King could take his ease.
Now that the court was back, even though without the Queen, I hoped the jewel trade would prosper; then perhaps I might be let off my trade, to stay and serve the harem. Once I had thought it tedious; it beckoned now like a palm grove in the desert.
You might suppose by now I would be reconciled. But ten years are ten years, though one has left them behind for three. Far off on the mountain, I could still discern the ruins of my home.
There were clients from whom, if I had flattered them, I could have had good money I need not have shown my master. I could sooner have made a meal off camel-dung; yet some were drawn by my sullenness, and would court me to win a smile. Others would hurt me in various ways, but I divined they would do so in any case, and servility would encourage them. The worst, who left me covered in weals, my master denied me to, not from pity but because he damaged the goods. With others I learned resources. I did not refuse a small piece of silver, but used it to buy kif. Taking it seldom, I could smoke myself silly beforehand. That is why to this day the mere smell of it makes me sick.
Some, in their way, were kind. With these, it seemed that honor demanded a return. I would try to please them, since I had nothing else to give; and they were glad to teach me how to do it better. Thus I learned the beginnings of art.
There was a carpet-seller who, when he had done, would treat me like a guest, seat me by him on the divan, give me wine and talk to me. The wine I was glad of, since he sometimes put me in pain; not through his fault, for he was gentle and liked to please. I kept it to myself, from pride, or what modesty was left me.
One day he had a carpet of ten years’ work hung on the wall, to take pleasure in, he said, before it went to the buyer; a friend of the King’s, content with only the finest. “I expect,” he said, “he may have known your father.”
I could feel my face drain of blood and my hands grow cold. All this while, I had supposed my birth my secret, my father’s name sheltered from my disgrace. Now I knew my master had had it from the dealer, and boasted of it. Why not? The Vizier, from whose vengeance I had been stolen, was disgraced and dead; it was no crime to have cheated him. I thought of our name in the mouths of all those who had had their hands on me.
A month’s custom dulled me a little to it, but not much. There were some I would gladly have killed for knowing what they knew. When the carpet-seller sent for me again, I was thankful it was no one worse.
I was brought into the fountain court, where he sometimes sat on cushions under a blue awning, till we went indoors. But, this time, he was not alone; another man sat with him. I stood stock-still in the open doorway, my thought, I suppose, clear on my face.
“Come in, Bagoas,” he said. “Don’t look so startled, my dear boy. Today my friend and I ask nothing but the refreshment of beholding you, and the pleasure of hearing you sing. You have your harp, I am glad to see.”
“Yes,” I answered. “The master said you wished it.” I had wondered if he had been charged extra.
“Come, then. We are both fretted with the day’s business; you shall soothe our souls for us.”
I sang to them, thinking all the while, They will be up to something later. The guest had not a merchant’s look; he was almost like my father’s friends, but smoother. Some patron of the host’s, I thought; presently I shall be served to him on a platter, dressed with green leaves.
I was mistaken. I was asked for another song; then they chatted with me of nothings; then I was given a little present, and dismissed. No such thing had ever happened to me before. As the courtyard door closed behind me, I heard their low voices, and knew they spoke of me. Well, I thought, it had been an easy stint of work. I should hear from the other man later.
So I did. Next day he bought me.
I saw him come to the house. Wine was sent for; the Nubian, who had served it, said some hard bargaining was going on. He did not know what about; he had only simple Persian; but already I wondered. When afterwards the master sent for me, I knew before he spoke.
“Well, Bagoas.” He was smiling from ear to ear. “You are a very fortunate boy; you are going to very good service.” And for a very good price, I thought. “You will be sent for tomorrow morning.”
He waved me off. I said, “What kind of service, sir?”
“That is your new master’s business. Take care to show him respect. You have had good training here.”
My mouth opened. But I said nothing after all. I just looked him in the face; his color changed, and his pig-eyes shifted. Then he told me to go; but it had done me good.
So, like the monkey, I was set for an unknown bourne. My mistress drenched me with tears; it was like being enfolded in wet cushions. Of course he had sold me without her leave. “You have been such a sweet good boy, so gentle. I know you still grieve for your parents, even now; I have seen it in your face. I do pray you have a kind master; you are still a child as the world goes, so quietly you have lived here.”
We cried again, and all the girls embraced me in turn. Their scented freshness was pleasant, compared with certain memories. I was thirteen years old, and felt I could have no more to learn when I was fifty.
I was duly fetched next day, by a very grand eunuch, some forty years old, who had been handsome and still watched his figure. He was so civil, I ventured to ask the new master’s name. He smiled discreetly. “We must first see you made fit for his household. But do not be anxious, boy; all that will be attended to.”
I felt he was keeping something back, though not from malice. As we walked beyond the bazaar to the quiet streets where the big houses were, I hoped the new master’s tastes were not too odd.
The house was like all such, shut off from the street by a high wall, with a great bronze-studded gate. The outer court had tall trees whose tops, even, had hardly showed from the street. It was all old and dignified. The eunuch took me to a little room in the servants’ wing, with only one bed. For three years I had fallen asleep to the chief eunuch’s whistling snores. On the bed were new clothes laid out. They were plainer than mine; only when they were on I saw their quality. The eunuch took my own clothes between finger and thumb, and sniffed. “Gaudy and shoddy. We can make no use of them here. However, no doubt some child of want will be glad of them.”