The Golden Hope: A Story of the Time of King Alexander the Great. Fuller Robert Higginson
bearded lieutenant and several others hastily dismounted and carried their captain out into the road. He was still unconscious.
"Who are you?" the lieutenant demanded gruffly, looking at the two young men with suspicion.
"I am Clearchus of Athens, and this is Leonidas of Sparta," Clearchus replied.
"Of Athens!" the man said sneeringly. "Go back to your city and tell the cowards who live there that we are coming!"
"As you came once before – with Xerxes!" the young Athenian answered quickly.
The lieutenant's face grew livid and he whipped out his sword.
"Cut their throats! Kill them!" the troopers cried angrily, pressing closer.
Like a flash, Leonidas bestrode the form of the captain, sword in hand.
"I am of Sparta!" he cried boastfully. "My country never saw the face of Philip, nor shall it look upon that of his son, who calls himself the Hegemon of all Hellas. Put away your swords, or here is one whose funeral you will celebrate to-morrow!"
He placed the point of his blade at the captain's throat as he spoke. The men of Macedon dared not move.
"Listen to reason!" Clearchus said hastily. "We are without armor, as you see. We saved the life of your captain, and we are on our way to Thebes to see Alexander on matters of importance. Take us with you and let your king deal with us. This is no time nor place for brawling."
"You are right," the lieutenant said sullenly. "Let it be as you say."
He sheathed his sword, and the others followed his example, though with an ill grace. The captain had begun to recover his senses. His skull must have been tough to have resisted the shock of his fall without cracking.
"Why are you letting me lie here?" he demanded. "Where is the enemy?"
"Scattered and gone, excepting these that you see," the lieutenant replied, pointing to the bodies.
"Then get me on a horse and back to camp," the captain ordered.
As they rode the lieutenant explained the presence of Clearchus and Leonidas. The captain frankly gave them thanks when he learned that they had protected him while he lay helpless.
"I am Ptolemy," he said, "and since you desire to see Alexander, I will take you to him. I owe you much and the day may come when I shall be able to repay you."
CHAPTER IX
THE DOOM OF THEBES
The plain where once the sons of Niobe lay weltering had borne its last harvest of slaughter. On every side Leonidas and Clearchus noted the ghastly evidences of battle. Darkness fell before Ptolemy's troop reached the shattered gates of Thebes. Men with torches in their hands wandered through the streets strewn with corpses, seeking plunder among the dead or searching for the bodies of friends. Neither sex nor age had been spared when Perdiccas hewed his way into the city. The very altars of the Gods were crimsoned with the vengeance taken by the Phocians, the Platæans, and the Bœotians for the centuries of cruel oppression that they had suffered from the rapacious brood of the Dragon.
Mothers lay dabbled in blood, with their infants beside them, struck down in flight. The market-place was heaped with bodies, showing how desperate had been the final stand of the Theban soldiers. The streets were littered with household gear that had been dragged in wantonness from despoiled homes.
The plundering was not yet finished. Bands of soldiers were still searching for booty in the remoter quarters of the city, where their progress could be traced by the sound of their drunken laughter, mingled with the screams of their victims.
Macedonian guards paced the walls and cut off all hope of escape. The wretched inhabitants, driven into the highways, sought concealment in dark angles and narrow lanes, cowering in silence.
Here and there a woman, rendered desperate by her anguish, walked with dishevelled hair, heedless of insult, seeking her children among the slain in the hope that she might find them still alive.
Clearchus felt his heart grow faint at the thought that Artemisia might be exposed to the frightful chances of such a sack. Phœbus himself, he thought, might be unable to protect her, since here the temples of the Gods had been profaned. An old man in priestly robes stood out before them with trembling hands upraised.
"Vengeance, O Zeus!" he cried aloud. "Vengeance upon those who have violated the sanctuary of Dionysus, thy son! May they – " "Silence, Graybeard!" growled a soldier, striking him across the mouth with his fist.
The old man reeled from the blow and shrank away into the shadow.
"You'll choke if you ever try to drink wine again, Glaucis!" a comrade cried, laughing.
"Dionysus will forgive me soon enough for a sacrifice," Glaucis returned. "Never fear!"
Ptolemy learned that Alexander had gone to the Cadmea and thither he led Clearchus and Leonidas after he had dismissed his men, eager to take their share in the pillage. They found the young king in a large, bare room in the lower part of the citadel. He had not yet laid aside his armor, which was dented and scratched by use.
When they entered, he was giving orders to his captains, who stood grouped about him. Clearchus looked at him with eager interest. He saw a well-proportioned, athletic figure, no taller than his own. The handsome beardless face glowed with the warm blood of youth and a smile parted the full red lips. There was no trace of fatigue in the young king's attitude, despite the labors of the day, and his movements were alert and decisive. He looked even more youthful than his twenty-one years as he stood among his leaders, some of whom were veterans of Philip's campaigns, grizzled with service. But in spite of his youth, there was a confidence in his bearing that left no doubt of who was master.
Clearchus felt himself strangely drawn to the young man whom all Hellas, with the exception of Sparta, acknowledged as its champion, and who was about to assail that great power beyond the Hellespont, whose limits were unknown and before whom Greece had stood in dread since the days of Great Cyrus. The Athenian found the "boy king" very different from the arrogant, mean-spirited upstart that the orators of his city had painted him.
"Stop the plundering," Alexander said to his captains. "Even the Bœotians must be satisfied by this time. Let the men go back to the camp, and see that order is maintained. The Ætolians and the Elæans are on the march and reënforcements are coming from Athens. There may be more work to do to-morrow."
As the officers left him to execute his commands, Alexander turned to Ptolemy with hands outstretched.
"I am glad to see you safe!" he said. "You charged bravely before the gate, and I feared that something might have happened that would deprive me of your aid when we march into Persia."
Ptolemy's bronzed face reddened with pleasure as he heard the praise of the young king.
"I went in pursuit of the enemy's cavalry," he said.
"Is it likely that any of those who escaped will be able to rally?" Alexander asked.
"They are scattered in every direction and think only of flight," Ptolemy replied.
"That is well," Alexander said. "We shall be the better able to deal with the others when they come. Who are these that you have brought to me?"
He turned toward the two young men, who had been standing at a little distance, and looked them frankly in the eyes.
"This is Clearchus, an Athenian, and this, Leonidas of Sparta," Ptolemy replied, presenting them in turn.
Alexander's face clouded at the names of the two most powerful of the states that opposed him in Greece, and Ptolemy hastened to add: "They saved my life when my horse stumbled in the pursuit, and they have a request to make of you."
"You have done me a great service," Alexander said kindly. "What is it that you desire?"
"We ask clemency for the family of Jason, on behalf of Chares, his son, whom we left behind in Athens," Clearchus replied.
"And why is he not in Thebes?" Alexander asked quickly.
"Because he did not know that you were coming," Clearchus said.