Astonishment held me rooted. I had understood. The man—I remembered his name, Hephaistion—now leaned his head beside the King's, to read his writing. Coming a little to myself, I moved softly back to the concealing shadows. They both turned, and saw me.
My heart almost ceased to beat. I prostrated myself and kissed the floor. As I rose, Hephaistion was looking at the King with lifted brows, half laughing. The King, however, looked straight at me, and did not laugh at all.
He said, "Why are you here?" but all Greek had failed me. He beckoned me up, felt me over with hard firm hands, and said, "No weapon. How long have you been here?"
"My lord King, since after dinner." I dared not remind him he had sent for me; no doubt he wished it forgotten. "I am sorry, indeed, my lord. I—I thought I was to wait on you."
"You heard me say I would tell you your duties later."
At these words, I felt a blush of shame flood my whole body and scald my face. Gladly I would have been swallowed by the earth. I could say nothing.
He saw my confusion. His harshness gone, he said quite gently, "Don't distress yourself. I see you misunderstood me. I am not angry with you, Bagoas. You have leave to go."
I made reverence and went out. The night guard stood facing outwards. I paused on the dark side of the tent. I had no friend here, no one to advise me. I must learn whatever I could.
The King said, "Since after dinner! And not a sound. He creeps about like a cat."
"He was stiff with fright," Hephaistion answered. "What have you been doing with him, Alexander? Eh?" He was laughing.
"At a guess," said the King, "I should say he thought you meant to murder me. Remember he's used to Persian manners, and court manners at that. Poor little wretch! He was Darius' boy. I told him I'd see him later; of course he thought I wanted him for the night. I have put him to shame; all my fault; his Greek seemed good. I should have used the interpreter. One should have some Persian oneself, for things like this."
"That would be worse. It took you long enough to learn Greek. Well, there's your teacher. You might as well find some use for him; as it is, you've bought yourself talk enough."
One of the guards moved; I had to slip away without hearing more.
My bed was in the clerks' tent. A torch outside lit it dimly through the entry. Two were sleeping; the third, who had seemed to be, peeped out as I took off my clothes. It was a fit end to a dreadful day. I pulled up my blanket, bit on the pillow, and soaked it with silent tears.
I remembered Nabarzanes' promises. What perfidy! How could he not have known this, knowing so much? The whole Macedonian army must know. How long must those two have been lovers, to behave like that, to talk like that? "It took you long enough to learn Greek!" Ten years?
The Queen's Eunuch had told us how they had visited the royal tent together, and the Queen Mother had not known which to bow to. "Never mind, mother, you weren't far out; he too is Alexander." Not even from her had he troubled to hide it.
Why, I thought, did he ever accept my service? What does he want with a boy? He is somebody's boy himself. And he must be twenty-five at least.
One of the clerks was snoring. For all my anger, I thought with longing of Nabarzanes' house. Tomorrow it would be forsaken; by next year, rotting back into the forest. So all that was Persian in me would rot away, as I trailed through strange lands, a servitor in this barbarian army.
I recalled Nabarzanes saying, in a haze of lamplight and wine, "What can one give to a man like that? Something he has been wanting a long time, without being aware of it . . ." Well, he had fooled me as he did Darius; I should have expected it. And yet, he brought me here to win favor for himself; he never pretended otherwise. I am unjust, I thought. He must have acted in ignorance.
Soon after, worn out with trouble, I fell asleep.
11
WHEN ONE is young, morning light does wonders. In the picket-lines, my horse (I had called him Lion) had been well cared for. Though the faces of the Thracian grooms seemed at first hardly human—these were the men who really painted themselves blue—one of them told me with grins and gestures what a fine horse he was. As I cantered up river in first light, my heart revived; till I saw a sight so shocking, I hardly believed my eyes.
A dozen young men were in the river itself, their whole bodies in the sacred waters, washing themselves; and, as if delighting in this impious pollution, splashing about or swimming. Among them was a mane of golden hair, which, wet as it was, could be nobody's but the King's. I thought that he looked my way, and galloped off in horror.
Barbarians! I thought. What vengeance will Anahita of the Waters take on them? It was a beautiful morning, fresh but turning warm. Truly, I had left all civilized things behind me. All the same ... if one knew no better, what pleasure to slide through the sparkling river, bare as a fish.
But where it flowed past the camp, I saw there was no insult these people would not offer the deity of the stream. They were not only washing themselves; they were scouring pots, watering horses. All my disgust returned. No wonder I had had trouble finding a vessel to draw water for my toilet!
Still worse a misery was the indecency of the privies. Just a trench, even for the Household, and people walking in, which was bad enough. But the squires, and other mannerless people, would try to take a look at me. Any Persian boy has satisfied his curiosity about eunuchs before he is six years old; but here, grown men supposed one had been cut down to the shape of a woman. The squires had had a bet on it. For some days, exposed to these immodesties, I had to get to the woods before nature would obey me.
I had heard no more about my duties, and dreaded presenting myself at the King's supper table. However, instead of dismissing me, he gave me some promotion. During the day, a number of noble Persians had come in, to surrender and swear allegiance. Nabarzanes had been let go with a bare pardon, because he had killed his King; but these others had been received as guests of honor. More than once, when something choice had been put before Alexander, he would direct a server to take a portion, and say to me, "Go to So-and-so, and tell him I hope he will enjoy this dish with me." Though used to better food, the guests were pleased with this Persian compliment. I wondered he had learned so quickly; little knowing how.
Quite often, as he sent these delicacies away, I would warn him there would be nothing left for him; but he only smiled, and ate what everyone had. His sunburn had healed. One had to own that he was comely, even in Persia.
He never made me carry anything myself. He remembered last night, and was trying to heal my pride. It seemed that for someone reared in the wilds, he had much natural courtesy. One could not say as much for his Macedonians. His friends followed his lead; Hephaistion kept his eye on him all the time; but some (mostly those who had kept their beards) made it clear enough what they thought of eating with Persians. At any difference of manners, they would laugh or even point. There were lords here, whose forebears had been kings before Kyros' time; but I was sure these uncouth westerners would have wished to see them carrying in the dishes. More than once, Alexander turned a cold eye on these boors; a few took notice, others pretended not to see.
He has himself to blame, I thought. He lets them go on in his presence like untrained dogs who will not come to heel. He is feared in war, but not at his own table. What must my people think of him?
One or two of the Persians glanced at me. Not all knew who I was; Darius had never dreamed of showing me at his side in public. Yet Alexander, whom I was nothing to, seemed quite pleased to have me seen. Of course, I thought. I am spoils of war, like Darius' chariot. I am Darius' boy.
On the third day Chares the chamberlain gave me a written message, and sent me to find the King, saying, "I daresay he is in the ball-court."
Inquiring for this place, I found a square of canvas walls, and heard shouting within, and the sound of thudding feet. The entry was a doorless overlap, without a guard. I went in; and paused frozen where I stood. Eight or ten young men were running about there, and every one stark naked.
It was beyond belief. The only grown men I had ever seen in such a state were the slaves who had been sold along with me, and criminals at the place of execution, whose offenses had merited such disgrace. What sort of people had I come among? I was about to escape, when a big hairy young man came bounding up and asked me what I wanted. Averting my eyes, I said I had come here by mistake, having been sent by Chares to the King.
"Yes, he's here," the young man said, and bounded a few steps off. "Alexander! It's a message from Chares." Next moment, there stood the King, as naked as all the rest.
From his lack of shame, you might have supposed he had never worn clothes nor felt the want of them. I cast down my eyes, too shocked even to speak, till he said, "Well, what is this message from Chares?"
I begged his pardon, my confusion now complete. He took the note and read it. While the first young man's sweat had smelled as strong as a horse, the King seemed as fresh as if straight from the bath, though he was flushed with exercise. It was said of him that the ardor of his nature burned up the humors. Just then my only concern was to hide my own flush of shame.
"Tell Chares—" he said, and paused. I felt him look at me. "No, tell him I’ll send for him shortly." Clearly he did not trust me with the simplest message; I could not wonder. "That's all then," he said; and then, "Bagoas." "Yes, my lord?" I answered, looking at my feet. "Cheer up, boy. You'll soon get used to it."
I went off in a daze. Even though the Greeks were a byword for immodesty, I had never thought a king could sink so low. Why, I myself, trained in my calling to strip off in the inner room, would have been ashamed, outside of that, to be less decent than anyone else. It is something, I thought, when a king can put a courtesan to the blush. Has he no sense of his dignity at all?
We moved camp soon after. The speed of it amazed me. When the trumpet sounded, everyone seemed to know his task without orders. I was the last to get my horse, and the Horse-Master cursed me; when I rode back the tent was gone, and my things were sitting in the open. We were on the march, an hour before Darius would have been wakened.
I looked to see where Alexander would take his place; there was no sign of him, and I asked the clerk who rode beside me. He pointed outwards; some way off was a chariot, going at a fair pace; a man was jumping off it, running alongside without its slowing down for him, and jumping on again. I asked, "Why does he make the man do that? Is it a punishment?" He threw back his head and laughed. "But that's the King." Seeing me bewildered, he added, "He's taking exercise. He can't bear to dawdle at foot-pace. Often he hunts, when the game is good."
I thought of the shaded litter, the Magi with their altar, the miles-long train of eunuchs and women and baggage. It seemed like another life.
We were moving northeast into Hyrkania. At the next camp, Artabazos came in to surrender.
He had been resting awhile after his long march, and getting his sons together. Besides the elder ones, he brought in nine handsome young men I had never seen before. He must have begotten them all between seventy and eighty.
Alexander met him outside the tent; came forward, took both his hands, and offered his cheek to kiss. These courtesies done, he embraced him as a son might do a father.
He of course spoke Greek, from his years of exile. Alexander put him at his right hand at supper. Standing by his chair, I heard him laughing with the old man over his childish scrapes, and recalling the tales of Persia he had heard upon his knee. "Ah," said Artabazos, "but even then, my lord, you used to ask me what weapons King Ochos used." Alexander smiled, and helped him to meat himself from his own dish. Even the rudest of the Macedonians held their peace.
Just after, an envoy came in from the Greek troops, asking for terms of surrender.
I was thankful for Artabazos, who I knew would speak for them, as indeed he did. But, taking it ill that Greek should fight against Greek, Alexander sent word they could come in to learn his terms, or stay away.
They came in two days later, the greater part of them. Some had gone off through the pass to try their fortunes; one Athenian had killed himself, being well known in Greece as an enemy of Macedon. The rest were in good discipline, though rather lean. I could not get near, but thought I could glimpse Doriskos, and wondered how I could rescue him, if he was condemned to die.
But Alexander's only vengeance was the fright he gave them by refusing terms. Patron and his veterans, who had been serving before he declared war, he sent back to Greece with safe-conduct. Those like Doriskos, who had joined up after that, he reprimanded, said they did not deserve release, and simply hired them, at the wage they had had before (his own men were paid higher). They were marched straight off to their camp, and I had no chance to bid Doriskos farewell.
It was shortly after this, that Alexander went off to fight the Mardians.
They lived in thick mountain forest, west in the range, and had sent no envoys. They were known for their fierceness; but as they had nothing worth taxing, Persian kings for generations had let them be. They were also famous robbers; Alexander did not mean to leave them in arms behind him, nor to have it said they were more than he could handle.
He went traveling light, for rough campaigning. Left in the base-camp, I tried to find my feet; helped in this by his having taken his squires along. These boys, who seemed to think I had chosen my own condition, felt for me contempt, mingled with envy they did not own to. They could do their duties, in a rude and simple way, but knew nothing of such manners as I'd been trained in. It irked them that Alexander did not mock what they called my fawning barbarian ways, but chose me to compliment his guests of honor. They were forever plaguing me behind his back.
Chares, who had always treated me well, used to consult me about fine points of Persian etiquette, there being no one else from the court. I had time for riding, though the plain was humid and close. My having a good horse of my own was a great grievance with the squires, who thought it should have been taken from me. They themselves had army mounts, issued them by the Horse-Master.
