The Great King by Christian Cameron Read Free Book Online

question.’
    Cyrus nodded. ‘I, too, may decline to answer.’
    I bowed slightly, in the Persian way. ‘Elder brother, I respect your right to be silent. But I beg you to see this from my point of view – I am a Greek. I fought Datis at Marathon.’
    All three of the Persians laughed. ‘Ah, Datis,’ they said.
    We all knew Datis as an ambitious and somewhat power-mad man.
    ‘I thought Marathon was the end of the Great King’s ambitions in Greece,’ I said.
    ‘Ambitions!’ Cyrus said, truly stung, I think. ‘My lord is the rightful ruler of all that is under heaven, and the resistance of a few petty states of pirates and terrorists on the fringes of the world will scarcely constitute the end of ambition. Athens encourages the Ionian rebels. Athenian ships prey on our shipping and disrupt our trade. Athenian soldiers burned the temple of Cybele in Sardis. Even last year, Athenians aided rebels against the Great King’s authority in Aegypt. Greek mercenaries are serving against the Great King at Babylon! It is not my lord’s ambition, but the foolish and militant posturing of the Greeks! A culture of hate and war, where no man respects his neighbour! Much less a lawful ruler!’
    Brasidas chuckled. ‘In Sparta, we say many of the same things about Athens,’ he said.
    Cyrus wasn’t done. ‘Sparta! A nest of godless vipers who executed one of the king’s sacred messengers!’ He leaned in to the fire. ‘When I was a boy, no one in Persia had ever heard of these two cities – Athens and Sparta. But now the Great King knows both of these names, and he will erase them as if they had never been.’
    I shook my head. ‘Cyrus – Cyrus. You are letting unaccustomed anger cloud your thoughts. The Great King lacks the reach to take Athens – or Sparta. You have no idea how big the world is.’
    I had been outside the pillars of Herakles. I had been to Alba in the Western Ocean, and my idea of the size of the world was profoundly affected. The world was immense.
    Cyrus shrugged. ‘In truth, the intransigence of Athens makes me angry, which is foolish.’ He frowned, looked away, and smiled. ‘And a poor return on your hospitality. But yes – the world is wide, and we should be conquering it together – Greeks and Persians side by side – not squandering our strength on each other.’
    I poured a libation to the King of the Gods, Zeus. ‘Cyrus – it pains me to say this, but if we stand at the edge of a great war of Greeks and Medes, perhaps it is not the wisest course for me to take you to Carthage.’
    Darius sighed. ‘And yet we are an embassy, and embassies are sacred to all the gods,’ he said.
    Brasidas nodded. ‘So they are. I come from a family of heralds – I recognise the sign of the god upon you. And surely – leaving aside the differences in our opinions – surely this war is not so imminent?’
    Darius looked at Cyrus. Arayanam simply drank another cup of wine, as was his wont. He seldom spoke, unless he had something vital to say, and might have been welcomed in any Lacedaemonian mess group.
    Cyrus shrugged. ‘The Great King has ordered a canal dug across the isthmus of Mount Athos,’ he said. ‘He gathers a fleet. Now that the revolt in Aegypt is broken, Athens will not take so long.’
    ‘How long?’ I asked.
    ‘Two years?’ he said. ‘A year to defeat Babylon, anyway. See, I am honest.’
    I laughed, my mood restored. ‘Two years?’ I said. ‘By Poseidon, Cyrus, I imagined you were speaking of weeks or months. Two years? Pardon me, but in two years storms may wreck a fleet, the Great King may die – a year of famine might cripple your army, or the will of the gods might make itself manifest in a hundred ways.’
    Cyrus spread his hands. ‘Perhaps. But Athens can count its days.’ He looked at me. ‘What do you care? You are not an Athenian or a Spartan. You could be one of us. Your former master, Archilogos, is one of the Great King’s most trusted officers. You could be