The Golden Hope: A Story of the Time of King Alexander the Great

Thais rose and went to the litter, where, from its hiding place among the cushions, she drew forth a bag of leather which she emptied upon the couch. Artemisia uttered a cry of delight. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, and gems of turquoise lay spread before her in a glittering heap.

"There is our fortune," Thais said. "We shall not want, at least for the present."

CHAPTER XVI

IN THE CAMP OF THE MERCENARIES

Sometimes running and sometimes walking, Leonidas led Clearchus and Chares all night through the foot-hills of Mount Ida. It was not until day was breaking and they were thoroughly exhausted that he halted at a spot well advanced upon the northeastern slopes of the great mountain. They found themselves at the bottom of a rocky ravine, shaded by evergreens, through which trickled a shallow brook.

"Let us eat and sleep," Leonidas said, and in ten minutes they were lying wrapped in their cloaks in the shelter of a thicket.

Leonidas was awake and had aroused his friends before noon. Although the country was wild and thinly settled, they pushed forward with caution, fearing that they might stumble upon some Persian outpost. For the same reason, they skirted the hillsides instead of keeping to the valleys, where it would have been easier to advance, and the wisdom of this precaution was made manifest before they had gone far. The keen eyes of Leonidas caught a drift of smoke above the tree-tops. Advancing cautiously along a ridge, they found an abrupt declivity which permitted them to look down upon a camp-fire about which were gathered twenty or thirty men.

From the variety of their weapons and costumes, the Spartan judged them to be shepherds and farmers who had been sent out by the Persian commanders as scouts. They were under the command of an officer who wore a conical cap, linen trousers, and a flowing garment of yellow and blue, with wide sleeves. In his hand he carried a whip of rawhide, and his only other weapon was a dagger which he wore at his waist. The party had evidently halted for its midday meal.

Seeing that the Persians did not suspect their presence, the three spies crept behind a huge bowlder which had fallen from the face of the cliff behind them and hung poised on a ledge above the camp. They hoped to learn something from the talk of the men around the fire, but their conversation seemed to be carried on in a dialect with which they were not familiar. While Leonidas and Clearchus were watching, one on either side of the rock, Chares, crouched behind it, began idly to examine the mass of stone. It was taller than the stature of a man and shaped like a rough sphere. Ferns grew from its crevices and around its base, showing that it had hung there for years. It was separated from the cliff by a narrow passage, and its outer side overhung the ledge upon which it had been caught.

Chares measured the great rock with his eye and then quietly stretched himself down upon the ledge behind it, with his feet against the cliff and his shoulders against the stone. As he put forth his enormous strength, slowly a crack appeared in the earth at the base of the stone. The delicate plumes of fern that grew from the moss on its summit began to nod gently, although the air was still. The crack widened and there was a sound of the snapping of slender roots. Clearchus and Leonidas, intent upon the scene below, noticed nothing. Suddenly the great bowlder seemed to start forward of its own motion. It hung balanced for an instant and then plunged from the ledge, bounding down the steep hillside with long leaps, rending everything in its path.

With shouts of alarm, the soldiers scattered in every direction, but their leader tripped on the long skirt of his gaudy robe and fell face downward beside the fire. Before he could rise, the great stone was upon him. It rolled over his prostrate form and came to rest.

Leonidas turned to discover what had happened and saw Chares lying with his head in the hole where the stone had been, shaking with laughter. Without losing a moment, the Spartan dragged him to his feet and ran swiftly back along the way they had come. It was impossible to avoid being seen. There was a cry from below, and half a dozen arrows struck against the cliff about them as they passed. Luckily, they succeeded in gaining shelter in safety.

The Spartan's face was pale with anger. "If you had done that in my country, nothing could save you!" he said to Chares.

"Why? What have I done?" the Theban asked in surprise.

"You have endangered the safety of the whole army and run the risk of bringing the expedition to failure," Leonidas answered hotly. "I say nothing of ourselves, but we have been seen, and what you have done to no purpose may cost us our lives."

"That is true," the Theban said, filled with remorse. "I didn't stop to think."

"You made me leader," Leonidas continued bitterly. "If I am to lead, you must obey my orders. If not, lead on yourself, and I will show you how to obey."

Clearchus peered down into the ravine and saw the Persians gathered about the motionless body of their chief, debating with many gesticulations.

"They are not thinking of pursuit," he said. "Come, I will answer for Chares that he will be more careful in future. Let it pass. We have no time to lose."

The Spartan made no reply, but turned and led the way once more toward the east. They did not halt again until the mountain was at their backs, its peaks cutting a giant silhouette of purple in the crimson evening sky. After a brief rest they struck out along a water-course which brought them at daybreak to a larger stream that they judged to be the Granicus.

As they advanced, the hills became smaller and the country more open. They met several companies of the Persians, some with wagon trains and some on foraging expeditions; but when they explained that they were Greek mercenaries on their way to join Memnon, they were permitted to pass unmolested, since it was extremely unlikely that any of the Macedonians could have advanced so far inland. Finally, late in the afternoon, they reached an opening between the hills which gave them sight of a broad, rolling plain, through which the river ran like a band of silver. Far away they could see the tents of the Persian camp, spread out like a white city, and, a little to the right, a dark square, which they took to be the earthwork surrounding the camp of the Greek mercenaries. Although the Persians made use of the Greeks, they were so jealous of them that they always made them camp apart. Encounters between them were not uncommon, even when they were fighting in the same cause.

Descending to the plain, the three friends lost sight of the camp, but they took the river for their guide, knowing that it must bring them to their destination. They passed farms and cottages, from which the women peeped curiously at them, the men having been drafted into the army. They were emerging from a pasture behind a farm-house rather larger and more prosperous-looking than its neighbors, when they heard a commotion in which they distinguished the shouting of Greeks. Running forward, they found two foraging parties from the rival camps in angry dispute for the possession of a drove of cattle. The Greeks had found the cattle and were about to drive them away when the Persian party came up and demanded them.

Words led to blows. The Greeks were heavily outnumbered, and although they fought stubbornly, it was clear that they would be unable to hold their ground.

"Here is our chance," Leonidas cried. "Memnon! Memnon!"

He drew his sword and rushed into the conflict, with Clearchus and Chares behind him, shouting at the top of their lungs. The Greeks, encouraged by their unexpected succor, made a stand, while the Persians, not knowing how large a force was upon them, ceased to follow up their advantage.

"Drive in the sheep with the cattle," Chares cried, catching up a heavy stake from a hayrick and swinging it around his head with both hands. "Don't let them escape!" He brought the stake down upon the Persian heads like a gigantic flail.

Leonidas and Clearchus forced themselves into the thick of the fight, thrusting and hewing with their swords. The Greek foragers, regaining their courage, ran in after them. The Persians were unable to withstand the charge. They broke and fled down the road toward their camp in disorder, leaving half a dozen of their number upon the field.

"Praise be to Zeus, the Preserver!" said the lochagos, or captain, who was in command of the mercenaries. "Where did you come from?"

"From Antandrus," Leonidas replied promptly, "to join the army of Memnon."

"By the horn of Dionysus, you came in time!" the captain cried, wiping his sword. "But I have been long away from home. Is it the fashion there now to fight with stakes for weapons?"

He looked at Chares, whose mighty onslaught had aroused the admiration of the soldiers.

"It is the fashion there, as it always has been, to fight with whatever comes to hand when Greeks are in danger," Chares said with dignity. "But do you suppose, now, that there is a skin of wine in that house?"

"No harm in looking," the captain replied. "Get the cattle together if you expect to eat before you sleep," he added to his men and led the way into the house.

There were only women inside – the farmer's wife and two daughters, all in a flutter of fear. Chares, ignorant of their language, began by kissing each of them, which served somewhat to dispel their alarm. When the captain produced a bag of gold pieces and announced that he would pay for everything they took, they became quite at ease and readily brought the skin of wine that Chares demanded.

Having finished the wine in great good humor and settled their account, the party set off to the camp, driving the cattle before them. Around their camp-fire that night the three Companions learned all there was to know of the Persian army. Under Memnon, there were nearly twenty thousand Greek mercenaries drawn from the entire Hellenic world and including thieves, fugitives, murderers, and runaway slaves. The Persian force was equal in number to the army of Alexander and consisted mainly of cavalry. It was made up of picked men, the best troops of the empire. With the satraps Arsites and Spithridates were many of the great nobles of the realm, among them Atizyes, satrap of Greater Phrygia, Mithrobarzanes, hipparch of Cappadocia, Omares, and others who were renowned for their bravery and high standing with the Great King.

"They think it will be a holiday affair," the honest captain said contemptuously. "We Greeks know better. They are encumbered with wine and women for the feast that they intend to celebrate after they have won their victory, and they are already quarrelling among themselves for places at the board; but their greatest contention is over what shall be done with Alexander when he is led before Darius, loaded with chains, to answer for his boldness. They have invented more new punishments than would destroy the entire army."

"Why are they so certain of winning?" Clearchus asked. "I have heard the Macedonians are good fighters."

"So they are," the captain replied heartily; "but the best troops of Persia are here, and the young nobles cannot bring themselves to believe that common men can stand against them. Why, they are even predicting that the army of Alexander will run away before a blow has been struck."

"You don't seem to care over much for our friends," Chares remarked with a yawn.

"Nor they for us," the captain said. "You saw what happened this afternoon. They think they can get along without us and they do not intend to let us have any share in the victory if they can help it. I believe we shall win if it is true that Alexander has only half as many men as we; but they will never win without our assistance."

"I suppose we shall fight in the centre," Clearchus suggested.

"I don't know," the captain exclaimed. "Nobody seems to know. If they take Memnon's advice, they will not risk all on a battle now. There is no need of it. All we have to do is to fall back, leaving nothing to eat behind us, and the Macedonians will starve to death. But the nobles will not listen to reason. They want glory, and so they insist upon a battle where the advantage will be all with the other side. They called Memnon a coward in the council this afternoon for proposing to retreat, and now they are at it again over yonder."

He pointed to a gayly colored pavilion in the middle of the Persian camp, where the council feast was being held. It looked like a strange, gigantic mushroom, glowing with interior light.

"They even jeer at us for throwing up breastworks," the captain added bitterly. "They have left their own camp defenceless, to show how brave they are. Perhaps they will be glad enough to take refuge in ours before they are through!"

"We must find out what the decision of the council is," Leonidas whispered, as they rolled themselves in their cloaks, "and then the next thing will be to get away."

CHAPTER XVII

THE TRAGEDY OF THE MARSH

It was after midnight when the council ended and the generals returned to the mercenary camp. Chares and Clearchus had long been slumbering, but Leonidas, feeling his responsibility as leader, had deemed it his duty not to yield to his fatigue until the camp was still.

The story of what had occurred in the council spread quickly through the mercenary army next morning. Memnon had returned in a rage. He had warned the satraps of their folly in expecting an easy victory and had advised them again to fall back, laying waste the country as they went, so that the Macedonians would be forced to give battle on disadvantageous terms and when they had been disheartened by privation.

This suggestion had been treated with scorn by the Persians. They had taunted Memnon with cowardice and the satrap Arsites had flatly refused to permit a single house in his province to be destroyed.

"If the Greeks wish to earn their pay without fighting," he had said, "let them stand idly by and see how brave men can conquer."

Thereupon all the Persian nobles had shouted assent and it had been decided to proceed without delay to crush the invasion by forcing a battle.

This was the news that was told through the camp of the Greeks and discussed with bitter comment by groups of soldiers.

"I wish I was back with my wife and children," said a sturdy Locrian. "These dogs know nothing of war."

"I shall stay here, no matter what they do," remarked an Athenian, with a shrug. "Hemlock does not agree with me."

"Wait until the phalanx strikes them," said a hoplite from Syracuse. "I'll wager that the date-eaters will sing a different song when the sarissa begins to tickle their ribs."

"You would suppose that these fellows would like to see the barbarians beaten," Chares muttered to Clearchus.

"Hush," said Leonidas. "We know all that we came to learn. What we have to do now, is to get out as soon as we can. The army cannot be far away and unless we can reach it before it arrives, the day may be lost. If we give the Persians time, they may yet change their minds. All depends upon an immediate attack, while their forces are divided. We must get away at once. How are we to manage it?"

"Why, walk away, of course," Chares said. "Who is to stop us?"

"That will not do," Leonidas replied. "You know the order that nobody shall straggle from the camp. There is too much danger of getting into a brawl with the Persians."

"If a foraging party is going out, we might join it," Clearchus proposed.

"That is worth trying," the Spartan assented; "wait here until I find our friend, the captain."

It happened that the same foraging party that they had joined the day before was going out again. Leonidas asked permission to join it.

"You have not yet been enrolled," the grizzled captain objected, "but come along if you wish; we may need the big fellow with the stake. I'll leave three of my men behind and you can take their places."

Leonidas breathed more freely when they were out of the camp, with the most dangerous part of the mission accomplished. They were forced to cross the Granicus and to walk five or six miles on the other side before they met with any success in their search for provisions. At last they discovered a flock of sheep, of which they took possession. All was in readiness for the return march when Leonidas, Chares, and Clearchus approached the captain.

"We have decided that we will not join the army," Leonidas announced. "We have seen enough of this war. We are going back to the coast."

"I don't know about that," the captain said, scratching his head.

"We are not enrolled," Leonidas reminded him.

"That is true," said the honest fellow, "but you have been in the camp."

"Well, we are not going back," the Spartan said deliberately. "Are you going to try to force us? There are thirteen of you and only three of us, but if you want a fight, you can have it. We don't intend to risk our lives for such leaders as Arsites. Which shall it be – shall we go, or shall we fight for it?"

"Let them go," interposed one of the soldiers who had drawn near to learn what the controversy was about. "They saved us yesterday. I have half a mind to go with them myself. I would if I had my pay."

"Yes, let them go, if they wish," others chimed in. "They are not enrolled."

"Farewell," Leonidas said, sheathing his sword and extending his hand to the captain. "You can say we were killed in a skirmish with the Persians if you like."

"That's it, I'll say you were killed," the captain exclaimed in a tone of relief, clasping the proffered hand. "Only, you will not come back?" he asked doubtfully.

"Never fear," cried Chares, giving him a slap on the back that almost felled him to the ground. "If we do, we'll swear you told the truth."

So they turned north and passed on, while the remainder of the party drove in the sheep to camp.

It was mid-afternoon when they separated from the mercenary company, and they had no means of knowing how many miles they would have to travel before they fell in with the Macedonian army.

"Now for it," cried Leonidas, swinging his shield over his shoulder. "Come on!"

Before they had gone far, they found themselves descending a long slope toward what seemed to be a wide stretch of marshland extending as far as they could see. It was covered with long, dry rushes, which rustled and bent before the strong breeze. The brown expanse apparently had once been a lake, for in the distance they could catch the gleam of water; but the greater part of the basin had dried, and the reeds had sprung up as the water receded.

"It looks like a swamp," Clearchus said, anxiously scanning the plain. "How are we to pass?"

"It seems dry enough now," Leonidas replied. "We will cross it if we can find no better way; but let us look first for a road."

Facing to the east, they skirted the edge of the rushes for more than a mile without finding an opening or coming within sight of the end.

"I'm afraid we shall have to try to get through," Leonidas said at last, halting on a tongue of land which extended some distance into the marsh. "We can't afford to waste much more time."

The question was decided for them in a manner that left them no choice. As they stood in doubt, shouts came from their rear, and turning, they saw a company of horsemen at the top of the slope, half a mile away, bearing down upon them at a breakneck gallop. Their long lances and flowing garments showed them to be Persians.

"You were right in saying that we had no time to waste, Leonidas," Chares exclaimed. "What are you going to do about this? I am anxious to take orders."

For answer, the Spartan set off at a run for the marsh. It was evident that the Persians had seen them and were aiming to attack them at a distance from the camps, where the affair would remain undiscovered.

With the wind blowing in their faces, the three young men plunged in among the reeds. The dry stalks met above their heads and whistled about their ears.

"Go first!" commanded Leonidas, standing aside for Chares to pass.

The Theban took the lead, tearing like a wild bull through the crackling stems. Clearchus followed at his heels and Leonidas brought up the rear, retaining for himself the post of danger. Although their figures were hidden, they knew their pursuers would have no trouble in following them, for they left a broad trail, and, moreover, the elevation of the backs of their horses would enable the barbarians easily to mark their progress by the waving of the rushes.

For a mile and two miles the race continued without a word being spoken. The Persians had ridden headlong into the marsh after them and were slowly gaining upon them, although the speed of their horses was checked by the rushes, which caused them to stumble, and by the softness of the ground, into which their hoofs sank to the fetlock at every stride.

Clearchus was panting for breath and he heard Leonidas breathing hard behind him. Sweat streamed from the face and neck of Chares, who broke the path. The Athenian knew that the pace could not be maintained much longer.

Still another half mile they struggled on with the endless brown walls of reeds before them and around them. Long ago they had cast away their javelins and their shields, which caught in the reeds and hindered them. Even if they could find a barrier behind which to make a stand, they knew they would have no chance for their lives against the enemy, who outnumbered them six to one and had the advantage of being mounted.

Clearchus thought of Artemisia, and his temples throbbed with anguish as he nerved himself to fresh effort. Was he never to see her again? His bones would bleach in the middle of that vast morass and she would not know. He thought of the high-spirited young king who had sent them to obtain information that might save his army from destruction and the hopes of Greece from ruin. On them alone might depend the result of the battle that was to be fought and the destiny of two nations.

He saw Chares stumble once and again. His own muscles were benumbed by the long strain. The shouting at their backs was growing louder and more near and he could hear the thudding of the hoofs upon the spongy, black soil.

"Stop!" Leonidas gasped behind him, and looking over his shoulder, Clearchus saw that the Spartan had fallen to his knees.

"Back, Chares," he shouted. "The end has come!"

The Theban halted and they both ran back to Leonidas, drawing their swords with a fierce determination to defend themselves to the last.

"Beat down the rushes!" Leonidas cried hoarsely. "Let in the wind!"

They saw that he held his flints in his hands and that a tiny blaze was flickering up from a heap of rushes which he had crushed into a tinder-like mass.

They understood his plan and hope returned to them. Like madmen, they trampled the reeds to the right and left. A puff of wind came through and caught the darting tongue of fire. It leaped upward so suddenly that the Spartan's hair was singed before he had time to draw back. In an instant, it seemed, a sheet of flame flung itself into the air above the reed-tops, casting off a thin swirl of bluish smoke. With incredible swiftness the fire swept from them straight down upon their pursuers, leaving behind it a rapidly widening wake of black.

"Scatter it!" cried Leonidas, seizing the blazing reeds and throwing them in every direction. The others followed his example, spreading the fire as far as they could to the right and left so as to make it impossible for the Persians to evade it by avoiding its path.

As soon as the barbarians saw the first smoke, they halted, hesitated for a moment, and then turned wildly back in the hope of escaping by the way they had come. The Greeks had taken a position on the charred ground, where they themselves were safe from the flames, and were awaiting the result, sword in hand.

The conflagration, as it gathered headway, seemed to become a monster animated by a living spirit. One broad sheet of flame swept high into the air, roaring like a hungry beast, and throwing up clouds of smoke that hid the southern sky. With deadly swiftness it devoured the lake of reeds before it, leaving behind a bare and level plain of ashes from which here and there rose smoky spirals. It seemed to create a scorching gale stronger even than the wind that had fanned it into life. It rushed forward by great leaps and bounds, pausing now and then over some especially tempting thicket of reeds, and then starting up far in advance.