The Golden Hope: A Story of the Time of King Alexander the Great. Fuller Robert Higginson

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СКАЧАТЬ they halted, wheeled, and stood at bay.

      But before they had accomplished this manœuvre the foremost of the pursuers, headed by a young man riding a powerful chestnut horse, swept into sight. The leader, in his excitement, had distanced his troop. Clearchus and Leonidas, who, from their position in the elbow of the road, were able to see in both directions, realized that he was galloping straight into an ambush. Leonidas started forward to warn him, but it was too late. The Thebans had regained their order, and with a wild shout they charged back around the curve.

      Either the unexpectedness of the onset caused the chestnut to swerve, or his rider tried to pull him up too suddenly, for he stumbled and went to his knees. The young man was pitched headforemost into the underbrush and fell almost at the feet of Leonidas.

      Some of the Theban troopers saw the accident and rushed upon him with cries of triumph. They were confronted by Leonidas and Clearchus, who stood over the prostrate figure with drawn swords. Surprise caused the Thebans to hesitate, and this saved the lives of all three; for the Macedonian riders, thundering down upon the Thebans at full speed, struck them and tore them to pieces. Horse and man went down before that fierce charge, which left nothing behind excepting the dead and a handful of wounded, whose cries for mercy were cut short by a sword-thrust. The survivors fled without looking behind them.

      "Where is Ptolemy?" shouted one of the Macedonians, a bearded man who seemed to be second in command. "Who has seen the captain?"

      "He rode in advance," one of the troopers replied.

      "If we do not bring him back, we shall have to answer for it to the king, and you know what that means," the first man said.

      "He is here!" Clearchus called from the thicket.

      The 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 СКАЧАТЬ