By Theseustoo

The Prophecy

Astyages had a dream one night which troubled him so much that he sent for his advisors to interpret it. These men were from the Median tribe known as the Magi, which was famous for its knowledge of both the heavens and the earth, and for their ability to interpret dreams. Over the course of centuries the Magi, realizing that knowledge was power, had collected, compiled and categorized all that was known of the earth and the heavens. As a result of their ever-increasing knowledge-base the Magi came to dominate the bureaucracies of first the Sumerian and then the Assyrian Empire. So powerful were they, that the Magi alone, of all six Median tribes, were exempted from providing an army for the defence of the kingdom. When Assyria finally fell to the Medes, their new masters too were obliged to continue to allow this immensely powerful tribe to continue to function in their traditional manner, for they were indispensable as the primary source of the state’s officials, educators, astrologers, historians and encyclopaedists.

Astyages glared down at them sternly from his throne. Still in his thirties, Astyages was a tall and darkly handsome man with the characteristic high cheekbones and craggy features of the Medes; his angular face dominated by a thin, fiercely hooked nose, which gave him the appearance of an eagle about to swoop on its prey. This effect was enhanced by the bright glint in his coal-black, deeply intelligent eyes, which shone out from under the bushy, black eyebrows which delineated his heavily-lined forehead. His darkly-tanned, leathery complexion reflected a man used to the outdoors; a man of action, rather than some cosseted princeling who ruled from a distance while sitting on a comfortable throne inside a palace.

The Magister, the principal Magus, unlike the hereditary princes of the other Median tribes, had not inherited, but rather had earned his title and position after more than thirty years of study, service and internecine political intrigue. He realized that Astyages was in a particularly dark mood this morning. Stepping forward nervously, he asked, “What troubles your majesty?”

Astyages replied, “I had a strange dream last night; I can’t get it out of my head; I want you to tell me what it means.” Again he paused, reluctant to trust anyone with the contents of his dream. Slowly he began to speak: “I dreamt that from my daughter Mandane’s womb came forth a great stream of water which filled not only my capital, Agbatana, but even the whole of Asia… can you tell me what it means? You may speak freely, without fear of my displeasure… if you will only answer me honestly.”

To the Magister the dream’s meaning was perfectly clear; yet he was stuck for words as he wondered how to phrase it so that Astyages would not take offence and have him executed. His voice quavering just a little, he began to speak,: “From your daughter’s womb will come someone whose strength will flood over Agbatana and fill all of Asia; Majesty, Mandane’s child is destined to be a king. I fear this child may one day usurp your Majesty’s own rule…”

“Indeed; it is as I suspected.” the king said, as if to himself. Then he fell silent for a while, embarrassed by the inescapable need to ask the Magi for their help; it made him look weak, he thought, to admit that he needed anyone’s help. But he realized only too well that he did need them; so, gazing directly into the Magister’s eyes he demanded, “What would you advise me to do to prevent this?”

The Magus was reluctant to suggest that the king’s dream might indicate some flaw in either the king’s character or his policies; and even more reluctant to suggest that a change of dynasty, foretold like this in the dream of a king himself, was unavoidable; nevertheless it was clear to him that, because of Astyages’ notorious cruelty, the harshness of his rule and the extreme nature of his excesses, heaven’s mandate had been revoked. Slowly, he said, “Majesty, if the gods will it, nothing can prevent it… yet perhaps they do not wish this to happen and have sent this dream to warn you…”

Astyages rounded on him impatiently, “Don’t prevaricate with me you fool! Just tell me what I can do about it!”

“Yes Majesty! Of course!” the Magister blustered, bowing obsequiously. Put on the spot like this, his mind churned rapidly; long years of patient study had made him intimately familiar with all of the meanings of the symbols which the gods encoded in dreams and sent to men in their sleep. Even so, this did not help him to formulate the plan of action he needed now. Grasping at straws the Magister improvised desperately, “It is well known that sons take after their fathers, majesty; you must make sure that Mandane does not marry a warlike man but a gentle one.”

The king considered this suggestion and decided it seemed sound, but for one minor detail. He asked the Magister, “But where can I find such a man? To a man, the Medes are all fearsome warriors; the terrors of all Asia! They have known nothing but constant warfare ever since this Kingdom was founded by my great-grandfather.”

The Magister had anticipated the king’s question and responded immediately, “Your Majesty, when your grandfather Phraortes wanted to expand the kingdom he first conquered the Persians; one of our own Medes is worth at least five of their fighting men; perhaps you may find among them a man so gentle that no warlike offspring could possibly come from him?”

Astyages could find no fault with this plan. “Hmmm…” he said, “Do you have anyone in mind?” As the king seemed content with his plan so far, the Magister briefly conferred with his fellows. After a few moments; and ever so delicately; he put forward the name that they had decided upon, “Majesty, there is one Persian known to us, by the name of Cambyses, who is very fond of music, women and poetry; he is soft and gentle… and has never taken part in any warfare; indeed, he has a personal abhorrence of any form of physical violence. Majesty, this man could never father a warrior strong enough to subdue all Asia. If the Princess Mandane were married to this man we think your majesty could put his mind at rest.”

Astyages recognized the name; although this Cambyses was a Persian; subject to Median rule; and thus technically a slave, he was descended from a wealthy and noble Persian family. This man had such a reputation for effeminacy that Astyages had felt an instant shock of anger rise in his breast that such a man should be suggested even in jest as a potential suitor for his daughter. In any other circumstance such a proposition may well have proven fatal to its originator. But, although he was still somewhat reluctant to have such a notorious weakling as this Persian, Cambyses for his son-in-law, after a moment’s consideration, he heaved a heavy sigh and in a resigned tone, said, “Very well; your advice seems sound enough; let all be done as you have suggested… and let it be done as soon as possible; my daughter, Mandane, is already of marriageable age; I shall ensure that she is kept in the women’s quarters until the wedding can be arranged.”

(To be continued)