“No faster than we!”
The bargain was clear. Accompany Harkan and his men or be slain here for my horses.
“As far as Lake Van, then,” I said.
He stuck out his right hand. “Agreed!” We clasped forearms to seal the bargain.
They did not travel as fast as I did alone, but fast enough. Harkan’s band was being hunted by the Great King’s men and they rode as if devils were hunting them down.
While I rode as if a goddess were calling me.
CHAPTER 22
From Harkan I learned that an empire always has troubles when a new king comes to the throne. Dareios III had been Great King for little more than a year. Apparently his first royal act was to poison his grand vizier—who had poisoned the man who had sat on the throne previously and then picked Dareios to be his pawn. This Dareios was no pawn. Yet many of the nations in the vast Persian Empire had immediately rebelled, wanting their own independence, before the new king could solidify his hold on the people, the government bureaucracy, the treasury, and the army. Especially the army.
“We’re from Gordium,” Harkan told me as we rode northward. It was a gray day, with a chill damp wind blowing down on us from the distant snow-capped mountains.
“Whoever holds Gordium holds the key to the heartland of all Asia Minor,” he went on. “Our prince rebelled against Dareios, thinking that he could make himself Great King, with luck.”
“He was wrong?” I prompted.
“Dead wrong,” said Harkan grimly.
The Great King summoned troops from many distant lands of the empire, far-off Bactria, wild mountain warriors from Sogdiana, Parthian cavalrymen and even Greek mercenary hoplites.
“We were outnumbered ten to one,” Harkan said. Then he ran a finger along the scar on his cheek. “That’s where I got this. We were lucky to escape with our lives.”
“What happened to Gordium?”
He did not answer for several moments, his eyes like dark chips of flint staring off into painful memories. The horses plodded on, noses into the damp wind.
“What usually happens to a city that’s lost its battle? They burned a lot of it. Raped our women, killed half the population, sold off the children into slavery. They dragged our prince back to Susa in chains. I hear they spent almost a week killing him.”
“Your own family…?”
“Dead. All of them. Maybe my children escaped, but if they did they’re slaves now.”
I did not want to ask more. I could feel the pain that he had kept inside himself always before.
“I had a son and a daughter. He was eight, she was six. I haven’t seen them since the day before the battle, almost a year ago.”
I nodded, but he went on:
“Wounded and all, I sneaked back into the city that night, looking for them. My wife lay dead in our house. My mother too. The bastards had raped them both, then put them to the sword. Half the city was in flames. The Great King’s men were looting everything they could carry. My children were gone.”
I thought of the way Philip had treated Athens. And Perinthos and the other cities he had won in battle or through diplomacy. Yet Demosthenes and the Persians called him a barbarian.
“I escaped into the hills, found others who had done the same. This little band of ours, we were all soldiers, once.”
“All from Gordium?”
“Most. Two from Cappadocia. One from Sardis, in Lydia.”
Now they were bandits, fleeing from the Great King’s vengeance. Living like parasites. Hunted men. And I was one of them.
By going north we were putting distance between the king’s soldiers and ourselves. But the pickings were poorer the farther north we went. Until we came into the lake country, where there were good farms nestled in the valleys between the hill ridges, villages and market towns. And travelers on the roads.
We swooped down on the travelers. Most of them were merchants carrying precious goods such as silks, jewels, spices, wine. They were escorted by guards, of course, but we cut through them without mercy and took as much as we could carry.