Belshazzar

“Yes, General,” replied Belus in the same quiet voice. “Pharaoh, as you know, is jealous and fears you.”

“Why, Belus?”

“Because the Egyptians love you, especially the soldiers, and do not love Pharaoh who they think, favours the Greeks too much, and in all but blood is himself a Greek.”

“That I know. Is there no other reason?”

“Yes, General. As you may have heard, like other Babylonians I have some skill in divination and in the casting of horoscopes. Pharaoh caused me to cast his, and yours also, General.”

“And what did they say, Belus?” asked Amasis leaning forward.

Belus dropped his voice and answered,

“They said that the star of Apries wanes, while that of Amasis grows bright. They said that ere long where shone the star of Apries, will shine the star of Amasis alone, though first for a time those two stars will ride in the heavens side by side. That is what they said though I told Apries another tale.”

“Do you mean the throne?” asked Amasis in a whisper.

“Aye, the throne and a certain general wearing Pharaoh’s crown.”

For a while there was silence, then Amasis asked,

“Does Pharaoh send you to poison me, as doubtless you can do, you strange and fateful Belus, who like a night-bird, have flitted from Babylon to Egypt for your own dark and secret purpose?”

“Nay, and if he did, I, their servant, am not one to fight against the stars. Fear nothing from me who am your friend, though there are others whom you will do well to watch. Now, General, here in this camp I am in your power. You can kill me if you will, but that would be foolish, for I have not told you all the horoscope.”

“Your meaning?”

“It is that if you kill me, as I think you had it in your mind to do but now, me or another, that star of yours will never shine alone, because my blood will call for yours. Am I safe with you and if I need it, will you protect me when you grow great?”

“You are safe and I will protect you now and always. I swear it by Amen and by Maat, Goddess of Truth. Yet, why do you turn from Pharaoh who has sheltered you ever since you escaped from Babylon? – for I have heard that you did escape on account of some crime.”

“Because Pharaoh turns from me and presently will seek my life; indeed I think that he seeks it already. For the rest, the crime of which you have heard was not mine, but that of another – upon whom I wait to be avenged in some far-off appointed hour,” he added and as he spoke the words, his face grew fierce and even terrible.

“Be plain, Belus, but tell me first, who is this with you who listens to our most secret thoughts? How comes it that I never noted him?”

“Perchance because I willed that you should not, General, or perchance because wine dims the eyes. But look on him, and answer your own question.”

As he spoke, very swiftly Belus bent forward and unclasped the long cloak which I wore, revealing me clad as a soldier with an armoured cap upon my head. Amasis stared at me.

“By the gods!” he said, “this is none other than Ramose, Pharaoh’s bastard and my pupil in arms whom I love well. Now what does this young cock here? Is he another of Pharaoh’s spies whom you have brought to be your witness?”

“A poor spy, I think, General. Nay, like me he flies from Pharaoh’s wrath. There has been trouble in the palace. A certain Syrian queen whom you will remember, for in truth she sent you here, has come to her end – a swift and bloody end – as has her minister.”

“I have heard as much, for rumour of the death of great ones flies more swiftly than a dove, but what has that to do with Ramose? Did he perchance stifle her with kisses, as I would have done at his age?”

“Nothing, nothing at all, General. But Ramose was her guardian and chamberlain, and Pharaoh demands his life in payment for hers, so do her Syrians, or will ere long. Therefore he seeks refuge under the shield of Amasis, his captain.”

“And shall have it, by the gods. Am I a man to give up one who has served under me, over the matter of a woman, even to Pharaoh’s self? Not so, and yet I must remember that this youngster is Pharaoh’s son and half a Greek and has heard words that would set a noose about my neck. Do you vouch for him, Belus?”

“Aye, Amasis. Listen. From boyhood this lad has been as one born to me and I, who now am – childless – love him. He has been drawn into trouble, and thereby, as I fear, embroiled Syria and Egypt. Therefore his life is forfeit, as is mine who have befriended him and aided his escape. Therefore, too, both of us have fled to you, and henceforward swear ourselves to your service, looking to you to shield us. Tell us, may we sleep in peace, or must we seek it elsewhere?”

“Yes, you may sleep easy, even from Pharaoh, for here in this camp I am Pharaoh,” answered Amasis proudly. “Have I not sworn it already and am I a troth-breaker?” he added.

Scarce had the words passed his lips when from without came a sound of sentries challenging, followed by a cry of “Pass on, Messenger of Pharaoh.” The tent opened and there appeared a travel-stained man clad in Pharaoh’s uniform, who bowed, handed a roll to Amasis and at a sign, retired.

“Pharaoh sends me many letters,” he said, as he cut the silk and undid the roll. Then he read, looked up and laughed.

“Your guardian spirit must be good, Belus. At least you two were wise to take that oath of me upon the instant. Hearken to what is written here,” and he read aloud,

“Pharaoh to the General Amasis, “The Syrians who came hither with the Queen Atyra who is dead, as the price of the friendship of their nation to Egypt, demand the life of the Count Ramose who was her chamberlain, because he failed in his duty and did not keep her safe; also because as they allege he murdered one Ninari. If he has fled to your camp disguised as a scribe, as is reported, put him to death and send his head to Sais that it may be shown to them. With it send Belus the Babylonian, that the truth of all this matter may be wrung from him. “Sealed with the seals of Pharaoh and his Vizier.”

“Now, Belus,” went on Amasis, “tell me, you who are wise in counsel, what shall I do? Obey Pharaoh or my oath?”

I listened like to one in a dream, but Belus answered quietly,

“Which you will, Amasis. Obey Pharaoh, cause this lad to be murdered and send me to the torturers at Sais, and see your star set – as I promised you. Obey your oath, and see that star shine out above all storms, royally and alone. Yet, is it needful to urge Amasis to honesty by revealing what Thoth has written concerning him in the Book of Fate?”

“I think not,” answered Amasis with his great laugh. “Do they not say of me in Egypt that never yet did I break troth with friend or foe, and shall I do so now? Young man, I see that you have scribe’s tools about you; therefore be seated and write these words:

“From Amasis the General, to Pharaoh, “The letter of Pharaoh has been received. Know, O divine Pharaoh, that it is not the custom of Amasis to kill those who are serving under him in war, save for cowardice or other military offence. If the Syrians have aught against the Count Ramose, let them come hither and set out their case before me and my captains. For the rest, Belus the Babylonian, whom the good god Pharaoh sent hither to watch me, is too weary to travel. Moreover, I keep him at my side that I may watch him.”

When I had finished writing, Amasis read the roll, sealed it and summoning an officer, bade him to give it to the messenger to be delivered to Pharaoh at Sais. When the officer had gone he thought a while, and said in his open fashion,

“The quarrel between me and Pharaoh or rather between the Egyptians and his friends the Greeks, has long been brewing. It is strange that it should have boiled over upon the little matter of this young Count and his love affairs, yet doubtless so it was decreed. Have no fear, Ramose, Pharaoh is cowardly for otherwise he would not seek the life of his own son for such a trifle from dread born of Syrian threats; a tyrant also and when tyrants are taken by the beard, they grow afraid. Yet my counsel to both of you is, to keep out of the reach of Pharaoh’s arm till this business is forgotten. If ever he speaks of it to me again, I will tell him to his face that he should thank me who have saved him from the crime of murdering his son, whose blood would have brought the curse of the gods upon him. Now drink a cup of wine, both of you, and let me hear this tale of the death of Atyra, if she be dead in truth.”

So I told it to him, keeping nothing back. When it was done, he said,

“I am glad that you threw that Syrian rat through the window-place, sending him to settle his account with Atyra in the underworld. Grieve not, young man. There are more women left upon the earth who will teach you to forget your trouble, and for the rest this ill-fated lady was one hard to be resisted. Now, go rest. To-morrow I will find you a place in my bodyguard and we shall see whether you are luckier in war than you have been in love.”

Thus he spoke though in the after years, when he had ceased to be a bluff general and had become a wily Pharaoh steeped in statecraft, he forgot, or pretended to forget all this story and asserted that Atyra had borne me a child before her death. But of this in its season.

That night ere I slept, for the first time I opened all my heart to Belus, showing him how great was its bitterness and woe. Moreover I told him that if I escaped the wrath of Pharaoh and the accidents of war, I had sworn an oath before the gods to have no more to do with women.

“I rejoice to hear it, Son,” answered Belus, with his strange wise smile, “and I pray that the memory of the gods of Egypt is not too long. You say that you have done with women, but mayhap women have not done with such a man as you, nor because one has brought you sorrow, is it certain that another may not bring you joy. Now grieve no more over what cannot be mended nor for her who is dead because of you, but follow after Fortune with a brave heart, for such she loves. Only one thing I hope of you, that you will suffer me, your master, to stay at your side through bad weather and through good, until perhaps I am drawn away to fulfil the purpose of my life.”

Then without telling me what was that purpose, he kissed me on the brow and I laid me down and slept.

Chapter 6

The Gift of God

Next day the march began. I saw and knew all, for Amasis, a man of his word in those days, appointed me to be an officer of his guard, also, because I was a scholar, one of his private scribes. Further he kept Belus in attendance on him, so that between us we learned all there was to know. Thus I came to understand how great was the power of Amasis, the beloved of the soldiers.

About him was none of the ceremonial of Pharaoh’s court. His captains were his fellows; also he drank, jested and bandied stories, some of them coarse enough, with the common soldiers round their fires. A man of the people himself, he talked to them of their fathers, yes, and mothers too. He asked no great reverence from them, nor that any man should bow to the dust when he passed by and to many a fault he was blind. If one off duty drank too much, or broke camp to seek some girl who had looked at him kindly, he said nothing; but if such a one did these things when he was on duty, then let him beware, for he would be flogged, or even hanged. No man was promoted for lip-service or because his birth was high, but to those who were brave and loyal every door was open. Therefore the army loved him, so much indeed that he dared to defy Pharaoh in such a letter as he had written concerning Belus and myself, and yet fear nothing.

Some thirty or forty thousand strong not counting the camp-followers, we marched against the Babylonians, a great host of them under the command of Merodach, said to be a son of Nebuchadnezzar, who awaited us beyond the borders of Egypt. Or rather they did not await us for as we came on, they retreated. Then we discovered that we were being led into a trap, for Syrians by the ten thousand, were hanging on our flank waiting to cut us off. Belus learned this from spies whom we had taken, but who, it seemed, belonged to some secret brotherhood of which he was a chief.

For although Belus was willing to fight against his own people, I found that among them he still had many friends. This at the time I could not understand, for not until many years had gone by did I come to know that the Babylonians were divided among themselves, numbers of them hating the kings who ruled over them and all their cruelties and wars.

So Amasis separated his army. Half of it he left entrenched upon a range of little hills that encircled an oasis where there was water in plenty, beyond which hills the Babylonians had retreated, thinking to draw us into the desert on their further side. The rest, among whom were nearly all the horsemen and chariots, he sent to swoop down on the Syrians. Making a long night march we caught them at the dawn just as they were breaking camp. Until we fell upon them they did not know that we were near. Therefore, although they outnumbered us by three to one, our victory was great. Hemming them round in the gloom, we attacked at daybreak and slew thousands of them before they could form their ranks. Also we made prisoners of thousands more and took a great booty of horses and camels.

This done we returned to the low hills in a fortunate moment, for discovering that the half of our army was gone, at length the Babylonians had determined to attack. Night was falling when we reached the camp and therefore they did not see us advancing under cover of the hills. Some of us, I among them, pushed on and made report to Amasis of how it had gone between us and the Syrians, a tale that pleased him greatly. Moreover, having heard me well spoken of by those under whom I served for the part I played in that fray, he promoted me to be captain of a company of which the officer had been killed by an arrow. This company was part of what was called the General’s Legion, appointed to surround him in battle and to fight under his own command. I knew it already, since from it was drawn his bodyguard, of whom I had been one until I was sent out against the Syrians.

Next morning at the dawn from the crest of our hills, far away upon the plain and half hidden by clouds of dust, we saw the Babylonians approaching, a mighty host of them. Indeed so countless were they and so vast was their array, that at sight of it my heart sank for it seemed as though for every man of ours they could count ten. While I stood staring at them, suddenly I found Amasis himself at my side wrapped in a common soldier’s cloak.

“You are afraid, young man,” he said. “Your face shows it. Well, I think none the worse of you for that. Yet take courage, since it is not numbers that make an army terrible, but discipline and the will to conquer. Look now at this great host. As its standards show, it is made up of many peoples all mixed together. See, it keeps no good line, for its left wing is far advanced and its right straggles. Also its centre, where is Merodach, the king’s son, with his chosen guards, is cumbered with many waggons and litters. In those waggons are not food or water, but women, for these soft Babylonians soaked in luxury, will not move without their women even in war, and they must be protected. Therefore I say to you, and to all, be not afraid.”

Then he departed to talk to others.

All that morning the Babylonian multitude came on slowly, till by noon they were within a mile of us. During the heat of the day they rested for some two hours or more, then once more they advanced, as we thought to the attack. But it was not so, for when they had covered another three furlongs again they halted as though bewildered, perhaps because they could see so few of us, for the most of our army was hidden behind the crest of a hill. At length officers rode forward, five or six of them, carrying a white flag, and reined up almost at the foot of the hills.

Amasis sent some forward to speak with them, among whom was Belus whose tongue was their own, disguised as an Egyptian captain, a garb that became him ill. They talked a long while. Then Belus and the others returned and reported that the Prince and General, Merodach, gave us leave to retire unmolested, also that he offered a great present of gold to Amasis and his captains, if this were done. Then, he said, he would retire to Babylon and make it known to the King Nebuchadnezzar that he had gained a victory over the Egyptians, who had fled at the sight of his army.

When Amasis heard this, he laughed. Nevertheless he sent back Belus and the others to ask how much gold Babylon would pay as a tribute to Pharaoh, and so it went on all the afternoon, till at length Amasis knew that it was too late for the Babylonians to attack, for night drew near. Then he sent a last message, demanding that the Babylonians should surrender and give hostages; also the gold that they had offered. This was the end of it.

Later Belus came and told me the meaning of this play. “Those Babylonians have no water,” he said, “save what they carry with them. To-morrow they will be thirsty and drink all, leaving nothing for the horses and the elephants, that they thought would drink at the springs of the oasis to-night. Truly Amasis is a good general.”

All that night we watched, thought with little fear for there was no moon and we knew that in such darkness the Babylonians would not dare to attack. Now I thought that Amasis would fall on them at the dawn, as we had done on the Syrians. But he did not, who said that thirst was the greatest of captains and he would leave him in command. Still when he had seen that all our army was well fed and all our horses were well watered, he sent out a body of cavalry, five thousand of them perhaps, with orders to charge at the centre of the Babylonians as they began to muster their array, and then suddenly to retire as though seized with panic.

This was done. When they saw the horsemen coming the Babylonians formed up with great shoutings, and the elephants were advanced. As if frightened at the sight of these elephants, our men wheeled about and fled back towards the hills, though not too fast. Now happened that which Amasis had hoped.

The enemy broke his ranks and pursued the Egyptians. Elephants, chariots and clouds of horse pursued them all mingled together, while after them came the bulk of the host. The word went down our lines to stand firm behind the crest of the hill. We opened and let our horsemen through, to re-form behind us, which they did, having scarce lost a man. Then we closed again and waited.

The hordes were upon us; chariots, horse and elephants toiled up the sandy slopes of the hills, slipping back one step for every two forward. At a signal our bowmen rose and loosed their arrows, cloud after cloud of arrows. Soon the heads and trunks of the elephants were full of them. Maddened with pain the great brutes turned and rushed down the hill, crushing all they met. The horses also, those of them that were not killed, did likewise, while the sand was strewn with dead or wounded men. The charge turned to a rout and few that took part in it reached the great army unharmed. Still, so vast was it that those who had fallen with their beasts were but a tithe of its numbers, though now few of the elephants were fit for service and the chariots and the horsemen had suffered much.

At this repulse rage seized the Babylonians or their generals. Trumpets blew, banners waved, words of command were shouted. Then suddenly the whole host, countless thousands of them whose front stretched over a league of land, began their advance against our little line of hills that measured scarcely more than four furlongs from end to end.

Amasis saw their plan, which was to encircle and closing in from behind, to overwhelm us with the weight of their number. He divided our horse into two bodies and weary as they still were from their journey against the Syrians, commanded them to charge round the ends of the hills and to cut through those wings, leaving the breast of the great host like a bull with severed horns. This they did well enough, charging forward, and back again through and through those Babylonians, or their allies, till between the horns and the head there were great gaps; after which they changed their tactics and charged at the tips of the horns, crumpling them up, till from ordered companies they became a mob.

Meanwhile the breast advanced, leaving a reserve to guard the waggons and the stores and the plain below.

Wave upon wave of the picked troops of Babylon, they dashed up at us, like breakers against a reef, and the real fight began.

We raked them with our arrows, killing hundreds, but always more poured on, till they came to the crest of the hills and met the Egyptians sword to sword and spear to spear.

I had no part in that fight who stood behind in reserve, with the General’s Legion that guarded Amasis and Egypt’s banners. Yet I saw it all and noted that many of those who attacked, were wasted with thirst, for their mouths were open and their tongues hung out, while the hot sun beat down upon their helms and armour.

Amasis saw it also, for I heard him say, “I thank the gods that they have given me no Babylonian prince to be the captain of my life. Now, on them, Egyptians!”

We rose, we charged, we drove them before us in a tumbled mass, down those blood-stained slopes we drove them; yes, there they died by the hundred and the thousand. At the foot of the hill we re-formed, for many of us had been killed or wounded in the great fray. Then we charged at the heart of the Babylonian host where flew the banners of their general, the Prince Merodach, a dense array of fifteen or twenty thousand of the best of their troops, set to guard the general, the women and the baggage. We fell on them like a flood, but were rolled back from their triple line as a flood is from a wall of rock. We hung doubtful whose force after all was small, when suddenly at the head of about a thousand of his guards, whom he had kept in reserve, Amasis himself charged past us. We, the rest of that legion, would not be left behind. Leaving our dead and wounded we charged with him. How it happened I do not know, but we broke the triple line, we went into it as a wedge goes into wood, and it split in two.

Suddenly I saw the inmost body of horsemen that surrounded the Babylonian standards, wheel about and gallop off. A soldier cried into my ear,

“Merodach flies! Yes, he flies. Babylon is beaten!”

So it was indeed, for when the host saw that their general had deserted them with his guard of chariots and horsemen, the heart went out of them. No longer were they battalions of brave men, nay, they became but as sheep driven by wolves or dogs. They packed together, they fled this way and that, trampling one upon the other. They fought no more, they flung down their arms, each man seeking to save his own life. The Egyptians slew and slew until they were weary. Then the trumpets called them back, save the horsemen that for a while followed the wings of the army which, seeing what had happened, abandoned hope and joined in the rout.

What happened to that host? I do not know. Thousands of them died, but thousands more wandered off into the desert seeking safety and water, but above all water at the wells in their rear. I can see them now, a motley crowd, elephants, camels, chariots, horse and footmen, all mingled together, till at length they vanished in the distance, except those who fell by the way. Doubtless many of them reached Babylon and told their tale of disaster into the ears of Nebuchadnezzar the Great King. But he was aged and it was said distraught, almost on his deathbed indeed, and had heard many such before. Always his hosts gathered from the myriads of the East, were going forth to battle. Sometimes they conquered, sometimes they were defeated. It mattered little, seeing that there were always more myriads out of which new hosts could be formed. In Babylon and Assyria and the lands around life was plentiful and cheap, for there men bred like flies in the mud and sun, and wealth was great, and when the king commanded they must go out to die.

The victory was won! Now came its fruits, the hour of plunder was at hand. There were the great parks of waggons filled with stores and women; there were the pavilions of the royal prince, the generals and the officers. Amasis himself, riding down our lines his helmet in his hand, laughing as ever, shouted to us to go and take, but to be careful to keep him his share.