At Adana I called a council and said: "Lads, we now near the lair of Harpalos. Several of those we have met have dropped hints of warning against this man. It seems likely, therefore, that he will not only refuse the money the king has empowered us to draw from the treasury, but will also try to seize what little we have left. That's the pass we face; how shall we put the horses to it?"
Vardanas said: "We had better keep the women out of his sight, if the tales of his lechery be true."
"That reminds me," I said, "that his brother Philippos in India advised me to give him something in the female line to get on his good side. What think you of such a proposal?"
" 'Tis over-late to think on that," said Thyestes. "For a slave girl of the sort that would excite the old satyr, we maun go back to Babylon and spend ten or twenty pounds of silver."
"Besides," said Vardanas, "when was the tiger's appetite sated by a lamb chop? If he mean to rob us, he will hardly be deflected from his aim by such a gift."
Thyestes said: "I misdoubt he'll try to lure us into soft quarters in his palace, there to seize us in our sleep. So let's refuse all sic offers and camp in a place where we can either fight or flee."
Vardanas said: "And let us keep not only more sentries on duty, but one or two mounted pickets to watch the roads. My Dahas are good at that."
Kanadas said: "Keep half of horses saddled, half of mules hitched, and elephant ready to move."
Pyrron said: "Whilst I'm not a military man and so unaccustomed to guarding my life and liberty against dastardly plots, it would seem advisable not to let more than one of us into the treasurer's grasp at any one time."
"Good," I said. "And we'll do more than that. We'll keep half our men under arms at all times."
Thyestes frowned. "I'm no sure about that, Leon."
"Why?"
"The men are getting clean worn down with pushing ahead, day after day. They're beginning to grumble that we shall never reach Hellas and they'll never have a chance to rest again. They'll no like continuous duty."
I agreed to a four-man watch, which was one quarter of our remaining Thessalians. I also bought some extra lengths of chain with which I bound the chests, and doubled the guard over them.
I also wrote the king daily, telling of my suspicions and of the precautions taken. Of course, Harpalos might still crush us by overwhelming force; but I could think of no more ways to guard against attacks by stealth and treachery.
And thus, in the first third of Elaphebolion, we came to Tarsos. The Kydnos flows through the town and then opens out into an estuary that forms a fine harbor. The town itself is of mixed Hellenic and Syrian culture. In the market place we saw sophists disputing, Phoenician traders chaffering, and Greek mercenaries swaggering. All business stopped at the sight of the elephant. People ran alongside, heedless of their dignity, to shout questions in a Greek dialect that I could hardly understand. The liveliness and curiosity of the folk made me well nigh feel as if I were once more home in Hellas.
Despite the pleas of the populace, I would not stop in the market place. We went on out the north gate on the road to Kappadokia. I looked for a defensible knoll to camp on; but the plain is flat in all directions around Tarsos, though we could see the Taurus Mountains against the sky line to the north.
We therefore chose a grove of trees several furlongs north of the city. When I had made sure that the camp was guarded against sudden surprisal, and that sharp eyes were watching in all directions, I returned to the city. To command respect, as Vardanas had taught me, I rode upon the elephant, clad in my finest raiment. Elisas, who came with me, could have ridden Aias also, as there was room for four in the booth. But, still dreading the beast, he preferred his mule.
Harpalos had taken over the palace of the Persian viceroys. This structure stood in a park surrounded by a high brick wall with spikes along the top. At the gate stood a pair of hoplites in gilded helms and cuirasses. I gave my message, and soon a young Hellene came to escort us to Alexander's treasurer.
Inside the wall was an elegant park where flourished trees and shrubs from many distant lands; for, after money and women, exotic plants were Harpalos' next most pressing passion.
The palace was a spacious structure of tawny brick with a fine stone portico upheld by marble columns in half-Hellenized style. Large though the palace was already, Harpalos was adding a wing. Masons chipped, carpenters hammered, and plasterers scraped.
As the usher led us towards the portico, he said: "If we chance to meet the treasurer's second—ah—wife, Glykera, we must prostrate ourselves and cry: 'Rejoice, O Queen!'"
"Queen?" said I, with a gravid glance at Elisas. "Mean you I must flop down on my belly to some unknown strumpet—"
"Not so loud, good sir, please! If you wish aught from the treasurer, you must, like the octopus, take on the color of your surroundings."
The front doors of the palace stood open, with guards erect beside them. Inside, we passed through a shadowy audience hall whose roof was upheld by a forest of pillars, like unto the audience halls at Persepolis but on a smaller scale. From the remoter rooms of the palace came the clink of the coiners' hammers. After a wait in an anteroom, we were ushered into the treasurer's private office.
Harpalos son of Machatas was a stout man who looked much like his brother Philippos. He was oiled and scented and clean-shaven and clad in a shimmering silken robe like that which I had seen on Vaxathras in Sousa. One could have mistaken him for a gelding. From the pomp of his surroundings I expected him to be as haughty as a Persian king. Instead, he rose and greeted us warmly, embracing me and patting Elisas' cheek. Tire only odd thing about him was that his bulging green eyes stared in a way that reminded me of a fish.
"Rejoice, blessed ones!" he cried in a good if Macedonian-accented Greek. His fat made him wheeze as he spoke. "I have heard of your coming and of your exploits; my brother has written me from distant India. Ah—surely the spirit of my deified first wife Pythonike has watched over you, to bring you through so many perils safely! Have a drop of this; it is real Chian. When did you see the divine Alexander last?"
"Last summer," I said, sipping the marvelous wine. "Have you heard about his wounding?"
"Nay. What's this?"
"Ah—he climbed the wall of the city of the Mallians at the head of his men, leapt down inside, and fought the Indians almost alone before his men could reach him. An arrow pierced his lung, and his life is despaired of, if indeed he have not already perished."
"How terrible! What a calamity!" I said. "Pray the gods will speed his recovery. Is there aught more to tell?"
"No; this is the latest news to arrive, though it was sent from India nearly a month ago."
I was not merely being polite in my concern for the king's health. Alexander had no heirs. If he died now, his generals and officials would scramble for power, and a mere troop leader with a chest full of treasure would be swallowed at a gulp by the first one to lay hand upon him. To enjoy any kind of protection, we—the hipparchia—should have to shop for a new master.
Howsomever, I did not need to believe that Harpalos was telling the truth, or that Alexander had died forsooth. The king, for all his small size, was a man of great strength and endurance who had recovered from the gravest of wounds ere this.
We got down to business. I handed over Eumenes' letter authorizing me to draw upon the treasury, explained Menes' refusal to give us a ship, and brought out a statement of our expenses.
"Explain it, Elisas," I said.
When Elisas had done so, Harpalos said: "Let me praise the order in which you have kept your accounts, O Hipparch. You should see some of the statements I receive! Nothing but wild guesses as to whither the money has gone. Now, ah—as to this, the king's word is of course law. Leave this letter to me, and all shall be taken care of."