By Theseustoo

Mandane’s wedding-feast was magnificent; even the oldest of the old women agreed that it was by far the most wonderful spectacle anyone in Agbatana had ever witnessed.  The ceremony was held within the city’s gold-covered innermost wall; beyond which no-one other than the king’s own family and servants ever ventured unless he was on official government business.  Only guards, government officials, and the Magi were ever allowed within the six walls which surrounded the city in concentric circles; each wall a different colour; and built around a low hill so the battlements of the inner walls overtopped those of the outer ones.

This was the first time since Deioces built the city that the common people had been allowed a glimpse of the immense wealth and splendour in which their king lived.  Within this innermost wall was a wonderful golden palace set in a fabulous landscaped garden; a multicoloured jewel set in gold.

The wedding was attended by what seemed like the entire population of Media.  Even the herdsmen had left their cattle in the care of their elder sons, or with a trusted slave, so they could attend the feast. The guests all sang and danced and feasted with genuine pleasure, for Mandane was both pretty and popular. For many this was the most fabulous day of their lives; never again would they see such splendour or experience such a wonderful and elaborate feast.

Everyone, from the King’s minister down to the humblest field-hand, wore their best and most colourful garments.  The crowd was a rainbow-coloured sea of goodwill as the dancers gracefully ebbed and flowed within the golden wall as, for this one day, the people forgot even the toils and hardships of their own lives and put aside all care to help their young princess celebrate this happiest of occasions. And the bride certainly looked happy, for even though her husband was unknown to her, Astyages had hired a matchmaker to describe him to her in the most flattering of terms, so that, just as Astyages had hoped, Mandane was quite excited at the prospect.

Hundreds of cattle, sheep and goats were sacrificed and roasted whole over huge bonfires to feed the guests; while thousands of flat, freshly-baked loaves of unleavened bread and honey cakes filled with figs and other delectable fruits, together with an endless variety of delicacies and sweetmeats, were constantly produced in the huge clay ovens of the palace kitchens.

Astyages was resplendent in purple, white and gold.  Even wearing only a modest circlet of gold, tastefully adorned with a single large and flawless blood-red ruby, upon his noble brow to indicate his royal status, he looked every inch a king.  He wore an ankle-length white robe, intricately edged with delicate golden embroidery, over which he wore a vivid purple surcoat, also heavily embroidered with depictions of lions and elephants. Even his sandals were covered in gold.

His pale-skinned and shaven-headed Magi advisors, enveloped from head to foot in their voluminous black silk robes of office, solemnly performed the ceremony, orchestrated by the magister himself.

Cambyses, dressed in a silken robe of a deep emerald green, trimmed with gold, held his bride’s hand as the Magister raised his eyes and extended his hands heavenwards to invoke Ea and Enlil, the Father and Mother of Heaven; calling upon them to witness the ceremony and accept the sacrifices which Astyages now offered to them in the name of his daughter and his new son-in-law.

Ten years younger than her groom, the lovely Mandane wore a simple though very elegant high-waisted white dress, tastefully decorated with designs of leaves, trees and various flowers embroidered in gold thread. Her head was covered with a cunningly-wrought headdress of gold which modestly hid her luxuriant, ebony-coloured hair; while the sultry, dark-eyed beauty of her lovely face was modestly, if thinly, disguised by a white veil of the sheerest silk.

As the Magister intoned his prayer for the future well-being of the young couple, Astyages scrutinized Cambyses carefully, mentally comparing the Persian to his own men. The Magi had not lied about him; he was a handsome young man of about twenty-five summers and average height. His skin seemed unusually pale; as if he spent little time out of doors. Cambyses also had a smooth and unblemished olive complexion; the complexions of Astyages and his Medes, however, were tanned to a tough, leathery texture by their constant exposure to the elements; and their faces were often disfigured with old battle-scars.

Though not exactly fat, this Cambyses seemed remarkably soft; his skin and musculature had a soft roundness to it, like a baby’s; a plumpness which seemed to reflect a life of luxury and indolence; quite unlike the hard and sinewy musculature of the Medes, including Astyages himself, who like every Median man over the age of fourteen, was no stranger to the hardships and rigours of war. But no matter how hard he tried, he found he could not imagine this Cambyses in any kind of warlike situation; the thought was ridiculous; such softness would be entirely out of place on a battlefield, Astyages thought; he would not last ten seconds.

The king shook himself out of his reverie as the Magister eventually reached the culmination of the ritual and asked Mandane the age-old question, “Do you Mandane, daughter of Astyages, King of the Medes, take this man, Cambyses, Son of Cyrus, to be your lawfully-wedded husband?”

The young bride solemnly replied, “I do!”

The Magus repeated his question to the groom, “Do you Cambyses, son of Cyrus the Persian, take this woman Mandane, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Cambyses had not seen his bride before the wedding, having accepted Astyages’ offer partly for political reasons and partly because he really had no choice; one does not insult a tyrant like Astyages by refusing to marry one of his daughters when this is offered. But when he saw his bride; her beauty clearly visible in spite of her veil; he could not help himself, but fell truly and instantly in love with her. It was fate, he decided, that had brought them together. Gazing lovingly into Mandane’s beautiful brown eyes, Cambyses gently lifted his brides’ left hand and slipped a plain golden ring onto its third finger, as he replied with equal solemnity,

“I do!”

“Then I pronounce you man and wife! You may now kiss the bride.”  The Magister smiled indulgently as the young couple kissed, with perhaps just a little more passion than either he or Astyages might have expected.

Well, the match appears to be popular at least, Astyages thought to himself, as the crowd cheered wildly at the top of their lungs, enthusiastically applauding Cambyses and his bride as the groom helped her into a large, ox-drawn carriage for their journey to their new home in Persia.  As the carriage left the courtyard the crowd ran noisily after it, following it out of the city for some distance to ‘see the young couple on their way’.

Astyages sighed deeply. Then, turning to the Magister, he said, “Well, he certainly looks soft enough; indeed I’d be surprised if this Cambyses is man enough even to father a daughter. Indeed, it’s fortunate that they seem to like each other at least…” The king laughed, obliquely amused by the thought; and all three Magi nervously echoed their king’s laughter, hoping desperately that everything would turn out as they all hoped.

(To be continued)