Tag Archives: Cyrus

“Cyrus” by Theseustoo: Chapter 20, Part 2

09 Saturday Oct 2010

Posted by in Astyages, Cyrus the Great: Chronicles

≈ 40 Comments

Tags

, , ,

A herald brings word from the Scythian Queen, Tomyris...

CHAPTER 20, Part 2:

Cyrus had quickly inspected the territory of the Getae and then pushed on towards the Araxes, where he had made camp and settled down to wait for Tomyris’ response to his proposal. He did not have to wait long; indeed, he was surprised by how soon the baggage train returned to him. He had not been expecting to hear from this particular herald again for several weeks at least, while the herald, in his role as matchmaker, paid court to the Massagetae’s monarch for him. Yet here he was already, Cyrus thought with surprise as he watched the herald dismounting from the lead wagon of his baggage train. The herald then immediately strode through the camp to find Cyrus as usual, in conference with his officers around the campfire in front of his pavilion… 

“Well now! What’s this?” Cyrus demanded as he saw the herald approach, “Why have you returned from your mission so soon? Is Tomyris so eager to accept my proposal?” 

“I’m afraid not, your majesty.” The messenger replied in sorrowful tones, “Tomyris said that she is aware that it is her kingdom, and not herself, that you want. She forbade us to approach and told us to return with your gifts.” 

“Unfortunate;” Cyrus said, with genuine remorse, “I had hoped that with her aid we could gain useful allies among the other Scythian tribes. But it seems as if the unity I seek can only be won by force.” He turned to his generals, “Pactyas! Have carpenters build towers on the boats so our archers may give cover to our men as they build a bridge across this river; we shall make Tomyris regret her coldness towards me! A king is not to be spurned so easily!” 

Although he had said nothing of it earlier, there was one other reason he had wanted to be near the river Araxes, which formed the border of the Massagetae territory: should Tomyris fail to accept his offer of marriage and alliance, he would be in a good position to seize control of the Scythians’ territory with his armies. His search for a queen could wait awhile; and who knows, he thought optimistically, perhaps Tomyris may change her mind eventually. Once conquered, he knew; for he had seen it happen; even dire enemies sometimes turned into the best of friends in spite of themselves. His friendship with Croesus bore witness to this truth; and Cyrus hoped that this might also turn out to be the case with Tomyris, as even this would make his rule over the Massagetae easier. Cyrus knew that, in the eyes of her people, it would give his sovereignty much more legitimacy if he were to marry their queen, even if he did so after he had conquered her; and that would not only make them much easier to govern; but would gain him allies, rather than enemies, among the other Scythian tribes. Otherwise he knew he would have to kill her; and any offspring she may have. 

*** ***** *** 

Soon after the return of Cyrus’ matchmaker another herald arrived, this time bearing the banner of Tomyris, Queen of the Massagetae. The guards realized instantly that Cyrus would most certainly wish to speak with this new emissary, and let him pass immediately; one of the pair politely escorted him through the labyrinthine chaos of their camp and into the presence of the Persian king; then waited to escort him back out again. 

“Well then herald,” Cyrus said, recognizing the colours of Queen Tomyris on the standard the herald bore, “has your queen seen the folly of refusing my proposal and changed her mind? Does she now see the wisdom of accepting the alliance I offered her?” 

“No, great Lord,” the herald replied, “but she bids me to give you these words: ‘King of the Medes, cease to press this enterprise, for you cannot know if what you are doing will be of real advantage to you. Be content to rule your own kingdom in peace, and allow us to reign over the countries that are ours to govern. However, as I know you will not choose to listen to this counsel, since there is nothing you desire less than peace and quiet, come on then, if you are so eager to meet the Massagetae in arms, leave your useless toil of bridge-building; we shall retire three days’ march from the river bank so you may come across with your soldiers; or, if you prefer to give us battle on your side of the river, retire yourself an equal distance.’” 

“A spirited message, herald!” Cyrus replied, showing no indication of having taken offence, “Your queen has many admirable qualities. It is truly a pity she has chosen to resist us when she could have ruled the world by my side. You may go now; I will discuss Tomyris’ offer with my chieftains and decide upon which side of the river we shall give her battle. Presently I shall send a herald with our answer.” 

“Very well, great Lord; farewell.” The herald nodded a curt bow to Cyrus from the saddle of his horse and then deftly turned his animal around and followed the guard back out of the camp. 

“Well then,” Cyrus said, addressing his officers when the herald had left, “you all heard Tomyris’ response to my proposal… What say you? Shall we give them battle on their side of the river… or on ours?” 

His officers were quiet for some moments as each man present considered the situation; eventually it was Hystaspes who finally looked up and said, “Sire, it seems to me that it is better to fight them on this side of the river, where we are at least familiar with the terrain… We know nothing at all of the terrain on the other side of the river…” This was a good point, thought Cyrus; this was the first time any Persian or Mede had conquered territory as far east as the land of the Getae. Even on this side of the river their familiarity with the terrain was only recently acquired and still incomplete. No-one liked the thought of fighting an unknown enemy on their own ground with no advance knowledge of the terrain. 

What Hystaspes had said made a great deal of sense. As Cyrus was considering his words, Pactyas spoke up in support of the general, “Hystaspes is right, your majesty! We know nothing at all about the other side of this river. Let us fight here, on ground we know!” At this there were shouts of “Hear, hear!”, “Aye!”, and “Fight them here!” from all of the officers present. When Cyrus saw that all of his officers were unanimously agreed, he said, “Very well! Since we are all agreed, we shall retire three days distance and allow the Massagetae to cross! Herald!” 

A messenger quickly stepped forward and, with a smart bow, instantly prepared his mind to memorise any message with which his king might honour him. But just as Cyrus was about to give him his instructions, a voice interrupted him. It was Croesus; as a slave, he had held his tongue while the officers considered the king’s question and until they had said their piece. Now he stepped boldly forward however and with a deep bow of apology to the officers for his interruption, addressed Cyrus, “My king! I promised you long ago that, as god has given me into your hands, I would protect your house from danger to the best of my ability.” 

The king nodded his acceptance not only of the truth of this proposition but also of the implicit reassurance that what Croesus was about to say would be both truthful and in Cyrus’ own best interest. Croesus continued, “The bitterness of my own sufferings has taught me always to be keen-sighted of dangers. If you deem yourself an immortal, and your army an army of immortals, my advice will doubtless be wasted upon you.” Here Cyrus rolled his eyes impatiently at this gentle reminder not only of his own humanity; but also of the humanity of his thousand-strong regiment of personal bodyguards whom he’d recently given the nickname, ‘the Immortals’. 

Yet, although Cyrus was by now persuaded that he was indeed the Son of Heaven, he was nonetheless still perfectly well aware of his physical mortality; this needless reminder irritated him; although it did remind him of one task which needed attending to before he finally engaged the Scythians. 

Observing his irritation Croesus continued quickly, “But if you feel yourself to be a man, and a ruler of men, then first lay this to heart, that there is a wheel on which the affairs of men revolve, and its movement forbids the same man to be always fortunate.” Again Cyrus silently nodded his agreement as again he recognized the wisdom of Croesus’ statement. From his own experience he knew that a slave could become a king; and from his own part in Croesus’ sad history, he also knew that a king could just as easily become a slave. Even the Son of Heaven could not afford to completely throw caution to the winds. 

Encouraged once more, Croesus continued softly, “Now, my judgment runs counter to the judgment of your other counsellors.” Here he waited for an instant; almost expecting objections from Cyrus’ officers; but they remained silent and waited to hear what Croesus had to say, for they were all as convinced as Cyrus was of this man’s wisdom and holiness; as Croesus continued, “For if you allow the enemy into your country, consider the risk you run! Lose the battle, and your whole kingdom is lost; for assuredly, the Massagetae, if they win, will not return to their homes, but will push forward against the states of your empire.” 

Cyrus had not thought about it that way; he imagined what he would do if he were in the Massagetae queen’s situation. He decided that Croesus; this king who had now become his own personal slave, and who had already shown himself to be the wisest of all mortals and his best advisor; was once again perfectly correct. 

“There is much sense in what you say, Croesus…” Croesus saw his advantage and pressed his point, “Even if you win the battle, you gain far less here than if you were across the river, where you can follow up your victory.” 

Cyrus’ eyes widened as the truth of this statement struck him; his mind already working rapidly; conceiving just how he might take advantage of such a situation, even as Croesus described it to him, “Rout their army on the other side of the river, and you may push at once into the heart of their country.” The holy man looked Cyrus in the eye as he added, with something of a sparkle in his own eyes, “Besides, would it not be an intolerable disgrace for Cyrus, the son of Cambyses, to yield ground to a mere woman? My advice therefore, is that we cross the river, and push forward as far as they fall back, then seek to get the better of them by stratagem.” 

Cyrus was again astounded by the wisdom of Croesus’ words. Again he was absolutely correct; of course it would do his reputation irreparable damage if it should ever be said about him that he, the Son of Heaven, retreated from a mere woman’s threats. 

“Croesus,” he said, his growing admiration for the old man showing clearly in his tone of voice, “Once again your words are filled with wisdom! And I’ve no doubt you already have a plan…?” 

The old man did not disappoint him, ”Sire,” he said, “I hear the enemy are unacquainted with the good things on which the Persians live and have never tasted the great delights of life.” Cyrus nodded; he had heard this from his own spies too. Croesus continued, “Let us prepare a feast for them in our camp; let many sheep be slaughtered; let the wine-cups be filled and let all manner of exquisite dishes be prepared and then, leaving behind us our worst troops to make a show of defence, let us fall back towards the river. Unless I am very much mistaken, when they see all the good food and drink set out they will forget everything else and fall to. Then all that remains is for us to do our parts manfully.” 

Again the king was delighted with Croesus’ suggestion. Smiling at the old man with genuine affection, he said, “Croesus, I am so happy that I spared your life and that I now have you with me… and I’m glad that you’re on my side, for I would not wish to fight another enemy such as you!” Then he turned to a nearby herald and said, “Herald, you are to inform Queen Tomyris that we shall accept her offer; she may retire while we cross the river.” Then, as the herald left to obey him, Cyrus turned once more to Croesus, and said, “Croesus, my friend, I have decided that you are far too valuable an asset to risk in this engagement, so I’m sending you back to Agbatana with my son Cambyses.” 

This was the other task of which Croesus’ quip about his humanity had also reminded him. Tomyris had been quite correct; he was really more interested in her territory than in her; yet he would have been willing to make her his wife, as the mother of his son had died some years ago, and now he sorely missed having a partner who could deal with all those things which would only yield to a woman’s touch. Especially he thought, a little ruefully, where those things concerned a son who was nearing manhood. Indeed, Cyrus had brought the young prince with him on this expedition to show him something of the world and to give him some first-hand knowledge of the territory he was destined to rule. 

Turning now to this son, Cambyses, who was present at all Cyrus’ staff-meetings with his officers on this expedition, he took a large golden signet ring from his left hand and, looking solemnly into his son’s eyes, gave him the ring, saying, “Cambyses, my son; in front of these witnesses, I make you my heir; I cannot afford to risk losing you in this battle either; you are to go with Croesus to Agbatana… and if anything should happen to me in this coming struggle you are to respect him as you would your own grandfather, and treat him well, for we already owe much to his sound advice!” 

Cambyses nodded obediently, and then, smiling broadly, he turned to Croesus, delighted with this opportunity to learn more about the world by spending time in this wise old man’s company. What stories he would be able to tell! Like most children of his age, Cambyses virtually lived for stories. The pair took their leave of their king to prepare for their journey back to Agbatana, and then Cyrus ordered his generals to prepare to cross the river. 

*** ***** ***

Cyrus, by Theseustoo

18 Sunday Jul 2010

Posted by in Cyrus the Great: Chronicles

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

,

Cyrus

by

Theseustoo

Chapter 18, Part 2:

Bablyonian Soldiers

Babylon is an ancient city which has, over the course of centuries been invaded and inhabited by several peoples, including the Sumerians, the Chaldaeans and more recently, the Assyrians. Each in their own turn, these various peoples and their sovereigns contributed successively to the building of Babylon’s walls and to the adornment of her temples. Among the most famous builders of all these monarchs were two queens. The first of these queens, Semiramis, reigned five generations before Nitocris, the later princess; who was also the mother of the current Assyrian king, Labynetus.

Semiramis raised certain very famous embankments in the level plain near Babylon to control the river, which before her time used to overflow its banks; often causing serious floods throughout the region. This taming of the Euphrates by Semiramis had ensured that crops would not be damaged by floods; ensuring good harvests from all the farms in the region. This had laid the foundation for the wealth and self-sufficiency Babylon now enjoyed.

But the later of these two queens, Nitocris, was even wiser than her predecessor. Observing the great power and the restless enterprise of the Medes, who in their revolt against their Assyrian overlords, had captured many Assyrian cities, including Nineveh, Nitocris anticipated that she too, would be attacked in her turn, and immediately she had spared neither herself nor her Babylonian subjects in the effort to strengthen her empire’s defences.

Originally the River Euphrates, which flows through the very heart of Babylon, had run in a straight course toward the city, but by excavating a series of looping channels some distance upstream, Nitocris made it wind so much that, as a vessel sails along the river it comes in sight of the village of Ardericea in Assyria three separate times on three different days. Then she dug a huge basin for a lake far upriver from Babylon right beside the stream. This basin was so broad that its circumference measured four hundred and twenty furlongs. The soil she had excavated from this basin was then used to build the broad and high embankments which lined the waterside in Babylon along both sides of the Euphrates.

When Nitocris had finished her excavations, she brought a great many large stones and bordered the entire margin of the reservoir she had thus created with them. The combined effect of these excavations was that, as the river was made to twist and turn, its current was considerably slowed. By this means, however, not only had she tamed the river, but she had also rendered any river-borne invasion too circuitous to be practicable. Such a slow-moving fleet would be ‘sitting ducks’ for artillery attacks from the riverbanks.

The only alternative to a naval invasion was an overland approach across the broad plains through which the river Euphrates now flowed so circuitously that it would have to be bridged – for it was still too swift and deep to be forded – at who knew how many points? And either way, even at the end of the voyage it would be necessary to skirt the lake and thus any invader would be forced to take a long and circuitous route before approaching the city itself. Such a route would give great advantage to the skirmishing style of warfare practiced by the Assyrian horse-archers. By Cyrus’ time, however, these had been mostly destroyed by the Median spearmen of Cyaxares and Astyages.

By now, what precious few horse-archers Labynetus still had left he kept with him in the heart of the city; safely inside their city barracks. Until Cyrus had determined to seize this ancient stronghold for his own capital, however, they and a relatively small complement of infantrymen had successfully deterred any Median incursion; relying mostly on their city’s own defences for their security. Now, however, Babylon was not only the Assyrian’s final stronghold; it was indeed all that now remained of the once-great Assyrian Empire.

The main purpose behind Nitocris’ excavations had been to prevent the Medes having contact with the Babylonians and thus to keep them in ignorance of her affairs. She feared that if they saw the fabulous wealth of Babylon they would most certainly want to take it for themselves; for the province of Babylonia lay in the most fertile region in the whole world, locally called the Land between the Rivers: Mesopotamia. For this reason all of Nitocris’ excavations had been dug on the side of Babylon which faces the passes through the mountains, where lie the shortest roads to and from Media.

While the soil from these excavations was being thus used to build up the city’s defences, Nitocris also engaged in a simultaneous project, although this one was on a somewhat smaller scale than those already mentioned:

Because Babylon was divided by the Euphrates into two separate parts; before Nitocris, anyone who wanted to pass from one of these divisions to the other had to cross in a boat; and the citizens found this very inconvenient. While she was excavating the lake above the city, Nitocris thought how she might simultaneously eradicate this inconvenience and also enable her to leave another monument of her reign.

She gave orders for immense blocks of stone to be hewn and transported to Babylon, and when they were ready, and the basin had been excavated, she turned the entire stream of the Euphrates into the cutting, and thus for a time, while the basin was filling, the natural channel of the river was left dry in the city itself.

Immediately she set her builders to work, first lining the banks of the stream within the city with quays of blue-glazed brick. She also bricked the landing-places opposite the river-gates, adopting throughout the same fashion of brickwork which had been used in the town wall. After this, using the hewn stone blocks which she had already prepared, she built a series of pylons to form the basis of a bridge, as near the middle of the town as possible. The blocks of these pylons were then bound together with iron and lead to resist the current once the lake was filled and the river was once again returned to its previous course. From Nitocris’ time onwards, during the daytime, square wooden platforms were laid, from pylon to pylon, on which the inhabitants could now cross the stream; at night they are all withdrawn to prevent criminals from crossing from one side to the other under the cover of darkness to commit robberies or other crimes.

Apart from building all of these famous monuments and defences Nitocris also planned a unique deception: She had her tomb built in the upper part of one of the main gateways of the city, high above the heads of the passers by, with this inscription engraved upon it:

“If there be one among my successors on the throne of Babylon who is in want of treasure, let him open my tomb and take as much as he chooses – not, however, unless he be truly in want, or it will not be for his good.”

This tomb continued untouched and the gate unused by Nitocris’ son until Cyrus came to Babylon. He too respected the tradition which had been established by Labynetus long ago, when his mother had died, and refused to either use this gate or to open Nitocris’ tomb. Indeed no-one would use this gate for fear of inviting upon themselves the event which they felt was symbolized by having death thus ‘hanging over their own heads’, so to speak, were they to walk underneath Nitocris’ mummified corpse. In any case, Cyrus was not so short of wealth that he felt it worth the risk of invoking the curse which the inscription implied would be cast upon any ruler who should be impious and unscrupulous enough to rob the dead.

The tomb of Nitocris would remain thus undisturbed until Darius III should ascend the Persian throne. To him it would seem monstrous that he should be unable to use one of the gates of the town, and even more monstrous that a large sum of money should be lying idle. Worse, this treasure would actually seem to be inviting his grasp and yet he was unable to seize it. Finally he would claim that because he was unable to use the gate, since driving through it meant having the dead body over his head, he would insist that thus he would eventually be obliged to open the tomb in order to remove both the corpse and its treasure. Instead of money, however, all he would find would be the desiccated remains of the cunning Queen Nitocris and an engraving on her stone sarcophagus which said:

“Had you not been insatiable for gold and careless about how you acquired it, you would not have broken open the sepulchres of the dead.”

***   *****   ***

Cyrus: Chapter 17

10 Thursday Jun 2010

Posted by in Cyrus the Great: Chronicles

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

, , ,

CYRUS

by

Theseustoo

CHAPTER 17:

The Assyrian Empire

An Importunate Deity

The progress of Cyrus’ expedition towards Babylon was slowed considerably when they came to the River Gyndes, a broad and deep river with a very strong current; which would clearly require either boats or a bridge to cross, for it could clearly not be forded. As Cyrus’ army drew gradually to a halt beside the riverbanks a sudden commotion arose from the van. One of the six sacred white stallions which pulled Cyrus’ great chariot, as soon as it had been released from its harness, had refused the restraining commands of its groom and had suddenly plunged into the river and attempted to swim across on its own. The current, however, was far too strong and the beautiful snow-white beast was quickly swept away downstream and drowned.

Thankfully, Cyrus had not been in the chariot at the time; he had been scouting the banks with Pactyas for fordable places; although as it turned out they had done so in vain. Distressed at the loss of one of his sacred charges, the groom immediately sought his master to inform him of the loss. He found Cyrus just as he and Pactyas returned from their search.

“My king,” the groom said with a deep bow, “I have terrible news to report…” Nervously he looked up at Cyrus, who merely stared at him silently, the intensity of his gaze now silently demanding further information. Even more nervously the groom continued, “As you can see, Lord, this river, the Gyndes, is both too wide and too deep to be crossed without boats, nevertheless, one of your sacred white horses tried to cross it on it’s own as soon as it was un-hitched from your chariot…” here the groom broke off to wipe away a tear which had sprung unbidden from the corner of his eyes, for he had loved his charges very dearly, “Such a courageous creature! But it did not succeed, Lord; it was swept away downstream and drowned. The god of the river has claimed it as a sacrifice!”

Cyrus' Chariot

Had it been any other horse, it would probably have been simply regarded as one of the inevitable losses any large armed force was bound to suffer on a major expedition; but as it was one of Cyrus’ own pure-white sacred horses, he took it as a personal insult. Another man might well think twice before complaining about such a sacrifice claimed by the river-god, but Cyrus was no ordinary man. His advisors had constantly insisted that his was no ordinary birth; it was foreshadowed with omens and portents they had said; the Magister had even said he had found Cyrus’ name in an old and obscure Hebrew prophesy which had suggested that he might well be the ‘Anointed One’; the Messiah whom the prophecy said would seize Babylon and destroy the Assyrian empire forever; and in doing so, unify the whole world. The manner of his accession to the throne, the Magister insisted, itself proved that it was certainly his destiny to rise from total obscurity to supreme power.

Babylon

At first Cyrus had wisely shrugged off such suggestions as fanciful, but as his empire had expanded, and victory piled upon victories were laid at his feet; often accomplished with remarkable ease, even in what were otherwise extremely difficult situations; that finally even Cyrus was persuaded that there may, after all, be some supernatural being guiding or even orchestrating his successes. The manner in which the path had been found which had given his soldiers the access they needed to Sardis and which had enabled them to take the city with little resistance, for example, had seemed even at the time like a gift from the gods.

The most ancient of all traditions held that a warrior who was victorious over all of his enemies; who thus subjugated them all to his own will, could only be the earthly incarnation of the son of the highest gods, Ea and Enlil themselves. Such a noble, indomitable and all-conquering warrior would eventually came to be recognized as the earthly incarnation of Merodach, their divine son; the Son of Heaven. Heracles, Cyrus had believed, was the last incarnation of such a demi-god, and before him, Perseus. But that he had been referred to as such even by his defeated enemies, he felt, was the final confirmation he had been waiting for before he allowed himself to be persuaded to believe in his own divinity.

So by the time Cyrus had reached the Gyndes, it was no longer any mere mortal whom the river-god had thus insulted with this involuntary sacrifice, but the Son of Heaven; a living demi-god, whose own status as the son of the highest god and goddess gave him superiority over any mere river-god. The insult to his dignity was thus, Cyrus decided, too much to bear.

“By all the gods!” he declared, “I cannot tolerate this insolence! The god of this river has overstepped his proper bounds with this theft! Have I not been called the Son of Heaven even by my defeated enemies? The god of this river must be punished! I shall break his strength so that in future even women will be able to cross it easily without wetting their knees. Divide the army into two parts, half on one side of the river, half on the other; I shall mark out trenches on either side of the river for the army to dig.”

***   *****   ***

Digging the channels which had been marked out by Cyrus cost him the whole summer and most of autumn; and now the first frosts of early winter gave the fresh morning air a crispy bite. Even so it was with evident satisfaction that Cyrus now surveyed his army’s handiwork, as he inspected the river’s depth with Hystaspes.

True to his word, the pair was able to wade across the river easily; the water coming only midway up their calves; and the current was considerably slowed; their knees were not even wet, Hystaspes noticed, as they climbed up the other bank, the gradient of which had been adjusted on both sides to facilitate the army’s crossing.

“Well then Hystaspes,” Cyrus crowed enthusiastically “we have shown this river, Gyndes, who its master is!”

Hystaspes, however, though pleased at his king’s success nonetheless felt that it had been something of a distraction from the main purpose of the expedition; and one which had cost them much valuable time.

“Yes my Lord;” he replied, a little wearily, “but we’ve lost the whole of the summer season digging the three hundred and sixty channels it took to do it!”

“Yes…” Cyrus drawled, thoughtfully. He could understand Hystaspes’ frustration; his general was eager to get at the enemy; like a hunting-dog, straining at the leash in its keen-ness to chase its prey, he thought. What Hystaspes doesn’t yet understand, Cyrus realized, is that by demonstrating my control over the natural elements like this, I have also just successfully completed my first act as a god. But somehow he felt that for him to say anything of this would still, he felt, have been rather immodest, so instead he simply ignored the implied criticism and changed the subject, “It looks like we shall have to winter here; we can raid the country-side for our supplies through the winter… we’ll attack in spring.”

“Yes your majesty,” Hystaspes said obediently, then, just a little hesitantly, he added, “but the disruption this will cause to the Assyrians’ economy will warn them of our intent to take Babylon.”

For such a great general, Cyrus thought to himself, the prince of the Paretacenae could certainly be obtuse at times. He found himself missing the quick, agile and subtle mind of Harpagus. Harpagus, he thought, would have been most amused by Hystaspes’ obtuseness. Patiently, Cyrus turned towards him, looking Hystaspes right in the eyes, so that he could see the twinkle that sparkled in his own, as the king laughed and said, ”Hystaspes, they know that much already! Their king, Labynetus, will be waiting for us even now, I’m sure.”

Hystaspes frowned; he was a little relieved that at least Cyrus was aware that his attack on Babylon would be no surprise to her current Assyrian occupants. Yet he was a little taken aback by what, to him, looked like Cyrus’ carefree attitude to their expedition. After all, he thought to himself, until Cyrus’ own great-grandfather, Cyaxares had evicted them from their capital city of Nineveh, thus forcing them to retreat to Babylon, the Assyrians had for centuries been the most powerful state in the world; Hystaspes could not help but feel that they were about to grab a tiger by its tail.

“Indeed your majesty;” he responded grimly, “the taking of Babylon will be no easy matter; her walls are of baked brick and they are very high and very strong…“

“Hmmm“ Cyrus hummed thoughtfully; mentally reminding himself that it was his extremely cautious nature which made Hystaspes such an efficient general. And he was right about the Assyrians taking a defensive position behind Babylon’s reputedly invincible walls; he was quite sure that will be exactly what they would do. What neither they nor Hystaspes knew, however, was that Cyrus had already learned of a weak spot in her defences. He had said nothing of this to anyone, fearing that if the enemy should get wind of what he was planning they would simply take steps to circumvent it. But, just to put the poor puzzled Hystaspes out of his misery; at least to some degree; he said enigmatically, “That’s true Hystaspes. But perhaps their very strength may prove to be their undoing!”

Now Hystaspes was genuinely relieved; he had no need to know what Cyrus’ plan was for the taking of Babylon; he merely needed to know that his king actually had a plan. And although he could make little sense of this, his king’s latest utterance, yet he was quite confident that it made perfect sense to Cyrus, at least; and that was all that mattered. Indeed, Hystaspes now thought that his king and emperor certainly seemed to know exactly what he had in mind; and if he said nothing further about it, Hystaspes knew now that this was because of the need for secrecy and not for want of a plan.

***   *****   ***