An Elephant for Aristotle

Book Five SOUSIANA

Following the Eulaios, we came down out of the Persian mountains into the Sousian plain. This is a land of many names. Some call it Sousiana from Sousa, the principal city. To the Hellenes it is Kissia, from the Kossian tribe. To the Persians it is Houza, from the Houzans or Ouxians. To the people of Sousiana itself, however, it is Elymais or Elamis, a name which goes back to the days when it was a powerful kingdom, in an age of which all definite knowledge has perished.

The road came close to the river at intervals only, where the Eulaios made sharp bends in its winding course. Elsewhere, swamps and thickets fringed the river, spreading far out over the plain where tributaries joined it. Wild cattle and swine abounded in these wooded parts. Had I not hurried my men along, they would have lingered forever and aye for the hunting.

We had killed a buffalo cow and were cutting it up when there came a scream from the river. I thought I heard Thyestes call my name and looked up. He was really shouting:

"Lion!*( * Leon.) Took one of the women!"

Irtastouna, the concubine of Charinos of Krannon, had been seized whilst going for water. We had heard much roaring since we reached the plain, as well as the snarl of leopards. But, since such beasts as a rule avoid a company as large as ours, we had grown careless of them.

We seized upon weapons and ran towards the river. There was a shout of, "There it goes!" though when I arrived I saw no lion. However, blood and spoor in the soft soil led us into the thickets. The men spread out, beating the bushes and havering excitedly.

"Silence!" I shouted, trying to listen.

By bellowing and cursing I quieted them. Then came another chorus of shouts: "I hear it!" "Over yonder!" "Come on!"

They dashed off, crashing through shrubs and pushing through the branches of willows and poplars. Hearing a growl, I ran after.

I came to the edge of a small open space as several men threw javelins at the lion—or lioness, as it turned out to be. The animal had dropped Irtastouna's body and was trotting off into denser growth when the volley of spears fell about her. One struck her. She sprang out of sight with a snarl.

I shouted: "Keep together! Dinna go off by yoursels!" Though I have never hunted lion, I had heard enough to convince me that a dense thicket is no place to go poking after a wounded lion by oneself.

But, in their excitement, the men paid me little heed. Several dashed after the lioness, and I ran after them.

I overtook this group as Charinos, burning with grief, plunged to the front. With a roar, the lioness bounded into sight again and sprang.

Charinos brought up his spear and braced himself. The javelin caught the lioness' hide somewhere, and Charinos was bowled over. The lioness landed on top of and a little beyond him. As he started to wriggle out from under her hindlegs, she whirled and opened her mouth to seize him.

Thyestes, coming up, thrust his javelin into her open mouth. The point came out through her lower jaw. Roaring, she reared up and, with a stroke of her paw, knocked the shaft whirling away.

Now Kanadas came up on the other side. He swung his great sword in both hands and smote the lioness across the back. Her hindlegs gave way. As she fell, a score of spears, including mine, were buried in her vitals.

We buried Irtastouna, bound up Charinos' scratches, and consoled him as best we could. We skinned the lioness, albeit the skin had too many holes to be of much worth.

Along the way, several other changes had betided amongst the women and children. Two of the concubines had run away, and three new women had been added to our train. One more child had been born, and one had died. So, one might say, we were just about holding our own in point of numbers.

Now the Eulaios joined another river, the Pasitigris. A couple of leagues below this confluence, a town called Soustara stands atop a cliff and watches the river sweep through a gorge below it. Here the survivors from the Persian caravan left us, as we were now in more or less law-abiding lands.

We shopped in Soustara. I found that most of the people spoke, not Persian, but Syrian, then the common tongue of travelers and traders all over the western half of the former Persian Empire. As I knew nought of that tongue, I had to trust Elisas for the chaffering.

During a round of the market place, Elisas and I found some freshly butchered sheep, hanging in the stall of a flesher. I said:

"Let's buy one of these for the lads' dinner. If we get a live sheep, that ninny of a cook will haggle it all up in butchering it."

Elisas then had a long bargaining session with the flesher. At last he said to me: "The best price I can get is eighteen and three quarter drachmai."

"That's outrageous!" I said. "Ere I left home, a good sheep brought no more nor twelve. And this a sheep-raising land, too!"

There seemed to be no help for it, however. We had remarked before on the rise of all prices. I paid. But, as I turned away, the flesher spoke to his helper in Persian:

"Set five drachmai aside for the sutler, as I promised."

The flesher, seeing an obvious Hellene before him, took it for granted that I could not understand Persian. On the other hand, Elisas, hearing the flesher speak Syrian, had assumed that the tradesman did not speak Persian either. I sprang forward, caught Elisas by the arm, whirled him around, and dealt him a buffet that sent him sprawling and the sheep rolling in the dirt. Then I leapt upon the flesher and gripped the front of his tunic.

"Auramasdas smite you, offspring of a frog and a viper!" I roared in Persian. "Give me those five drachmai, dog-face, or I will wreck your shop!"

Trembling, the flesher handed over the money. I looked around for Elisas, but he had disappeared. This was wise of him, for in my rage I might have knocked all his teeth down his throat. I suffered him to collect a commission of one part in ten on our purchases, but here the abandoned wretch had tried, by taking advantage of my ignorance of languages, to get more than one part in four!

I carried the sheep back to camp myself. We ate without Elisas. I never expected to see the little rascal again and was casting about for means of filling his place. I could not do all the buying, because I had other duties and because it would not be dignified for the hip-parch to spend all his time thus. Vardanas was a fool about money; Thyestes was testy with foreigners and, moreover, spoke little besides Thessalian Greek ...

I was gnawing a mutton chop and thinking when Skounchas the Daha came in with a piece of old leather on which Elisas had scrawled a note in execrable Greek:

ELISAS OF CHALYBON GREET NOBLE TROOP LEADER LEION

I sorry you catching me taking big commission. Was too much temptation. My head still buzz from blow. If yon wanting me work for you, I promises not do again. You forget commission, I forget buffet. Do that please?

'Where is he?" I asked Skounchas, but the Daha had an attack of inability to understand me, doubtless from fear for Elisas' skin. At last I wrote on the other side of the sheet:

Come back. Your sin is forgiven if not forgotten. Next time you plan to cheat me, let me know beforehand what you wish done with your body.

When Elisas returned, I commanded him to teach me Syrian. I found it, however, far more difficult than Persian, unless indeed Elisas made it hard for me on purpose, as he was in one of his sullen moods for days thereafter.

Persian, you see, has inflections much like those of Greek, and many of the words are even alike. Thus "father" and "mother"*(* patēr kai matēr.) are pitar and matar. But Syrian I found entirely different from Greek, in grammar and words alike. Forbye, where Greek gets along with four guttural sounds, the gamma, kappa, chi, and rough breathing, Syrian has twice as many: a battery of gasping, coughing, retching, and gargling noises. One day I was practicing them when Thyestes rode up and began to pound my back, thinking that I was choking.

We rode through the fertile fields of Sousiana, where bountiful crops were breaking the soil. On some of the farms, enormous horses stood in paddocks. Vardanas said:

"Mithras smite me if those be not from the royal Median herds! What do they here, so far from the plain of Nisaia?"

I said: "I should guess that as soon as the Persian government fell, every horse thief within a hundred leagues of Nisaia hastened thither to seize as many horses as he could, ere Alexander could stop him."

"Alas! What wickedness have I lived to see!"

"I would not say so," I said. "While 'tis fine for the king to have thousands of giant horses, other folk as well can put the breed to good use. Could I fetch a herd of yon beasties to Hellas, my fortune were made."

Vardanas laughed. "You should have been a trader, Leon. I see the mercenary gleam in your eye whenever you see a chance to squeeze an obolos out of a deal."

"What's wrong with trading?"

"I thought your philosophers viewed it as ungentlemanly, as do men of my own class among the Persians."

Pyrron, who had been whispering to himself, cleared his throat. "Some do, Vardanas. But I, though a philosopher, regard such attitudes as mere prejudices, effected by time and place and circumstance. I sneer at no honest occupation. My sister's a midwife, and I have no shame about assisting her with chores. Those whose property supports them in idleness are wont to aggrandize themselves by contemning the labors of all those less fortunate than they. But why heed them?"

"A sound point of view for a philosopher," said Vardanas, "but I can fancy the outburst if I told my father I was going into business. He likes to call himself a Persian of the old school, who knows nothing but how to ride, to shoot, and to tell the truth."

"Men of my class feel the same," I said, "though they except horse trading. As for me, I agree with Pyrron. And speaking of your father, you'll soon be home. What's your home like?"

"We have two, like most of the landowners hereabouts. One is a house in Sousa; the other, where we spend our summers, is in yonder hills." He pointed towards one of the ranges that broke the horizon. "You are lucky to see the Houzan plain in winter. In summer it is so hot that barley grains pop on the sidewalk, and a lizard that tries to cross the street in daytime is stricken dead."

"If it's hotter than the Arachotian desert, I'm glad to miss the Sousian summer. How much family have you?"

"There is my father, Thraitaunas son of Tachmaspas; my mother Rhautagouna; my father's other wife Houtausa; then my brothers Kambouzias and Ariakas; and my sisters Nirouphar and Mousa and Gambia. My sister Artaunta is married and dwells in Hagmatana. I had another brother, Tachmaspas, who fell at Issos, and a brother who died in infancy."

"I come of a big family, too," I said.

"Ours is not really large. The Persian king was wont to give prizes to the largest Persian families, on the ground that only thus could he get enough faithful Persians to help him rule the lesser peoples of the empire. Now I suppose Alexander will do the same for all these Hellenes whom he is sowing hither and yon in Asia."

"I'd better harness up, then," I said with a smile.

"What will you do for a Greek girl? There are few indeed in Persia."

"The king seems to like his men to wed Asiatic lasses. He'd better, seeing that he himself married one. Belike your father would give me one of your sisters."

I meant it as a jest, but Vardanas looked grave. "Oh, my dear Leon, pray do not speak of such a thing to him!"

"And why not? My family is as respectable as his, as you shall see if you come to Thessalia. We belong to the knightly class and to the clan of the Aleuadai, the noblest family of Thessalia."

"It is not that," said Vardanas, looking miserable. "I would not offend my dear companion; but Father is fearfully proud of being Ariatshisha—of pure Arian lineage. Although most Persian families in Houza are more or less mixed with the Houzans, we are pure Persian. He would never consider a non-Arian son-in-law."

"Phy!" I said, a little put out despite Vardanas' apologies. Although I had never seen the Persian's sisters and had no idea if I should even like them, it was irksome to be deemed inferior merely because one was a stranger. I found it hard to cleave to the spirit of international tolerance on which Pyrron had been lecturing us. But I bethought me that if the case were reversed, my family would be just as shocked by the thought of giving one of my sisters to Vardanas; nor would they easily accept my bringing home a foreign bride.

Early on the second day after we left Soustara, Sousa rose out of the plain ahead of us. We could see it from afar, as it is built on a clump of mounds or low hills. Ere we reached it, we forded a river which the Hellenes call the Koprates from its dung color, but which those who live along it call the Dida. The city itself stands beside another river, the Chavaspes—not connected with the Chavaspes of Gandaria, though they both bear the same name.

As we came closer, I could see the mounds upon which Sousa is built. Each mound is walled and fortified, while another wall encloses all the mounds and the bulk of the houses of the city. The three largest mounds are crowned with temples, palaces, and barracks; the houses of lesser folk spread over the smaller mounds and the low places between them.

This was the biggest city that any of us had seen in years, larger by far than Taxasila, though not in a class with Babylon. Howsomever, like most cities in Persia and Mesopotamia, Sousa had a shabby look because half the mud-brick houses had been abandoned and were crumbling into ruin.

There was a glitter of arms and a clank of marching soldiery on the plain to the east of the city. Here, on a spacious drill field, several thousand youths marched to and fro. They wore the Macedonian foot soldier's helmet and cuirass; they carried the eight-cubit pike, and the Macedonian star-and-crescent pattern adorned their bucklers, but Median trousers flapped about their legs. They had dark, big-nosed Persian faces.

Near the road stood a group of officers conducting the drill. Two commanded of the rest: a pock-marked Macedonian in full general's regalia, and another man whose garb combined trousers with a Greek officer's helmet. The Hellene spoke to the other man: "Advance!"

"Advance!" shouted the Persian in his own language.

The soldiers started forward raggedly.

"Persian countermarch!" said the Macedonian.

"Persian countermarch!" bawled his companion.

Now, "Persian countermarch" is a simple maneuver. The leading man in each file turns and walks back to the rear between the forward-moving files, and the man behind him follows, and so on. However, a man bearing a long Macedonian pike must hold it straight up during the maneuver, lest it foul the pikes of his neighbors. And woe; woe! The recruits' pikes leant in all directions. Hence there arose a clatter of pikes colliding with pikes, and cries of anger. In a twinkling the men became a milling mob.

The Macedonian officer dashed his helm to the ground and cursed. Now that I could better see his face, I recognized Archelaos son of Theodoros, whom I had known in the old days before Issos. I rode up and called his name.

"Leon!" he cried. "Hermes attend us! I thought you had been eaten by some gryphon or dragon beyond the sunrise. Be it true the East is full of warrior women, pygmies who live on the smell of flowers, and other marvels?"

"Not so full as the tales make out, though there's much of interest. What do you here?"

"Did you not know? I am a general." He indicated the Persian. "This is Brigadier Masdaros. He and I are trying to make phalangites out of Persians. Beside us, Sisyphos had it easy. But what are you doing with this enormous elephant?"

I told him of my mission. "Whom seek we for governmental fodder?"

Archelaos jerked his thumb northward. "Go to Aboulites' offices on North Hill, in the palace of Dareios the Great. Perchance you can stable the elephant with the others."

"Other elephants?"

"Yes, we still have eleven that belonged to Dareios the Little. Another one died. All they do is eat their heads off. I claim their keep should come from the civil budget, while old Aboulites insists it must come from the military, as if these polluted beasts were of any use to me! So far he has had the better of it in our daily squabbles before Kallikrates, the fiscal officer."

"Have you barrack room for us? It's years since we have slept in real beds, not counting brothels."

Archelaos silently counted my hipparchia and whispered to Masdaros. Then he turned to me, shaking his head and smiling.

"Yes," he said. "A company of replacements marched off to join the king a few days ago, so we have room. Vivanas!" He spoke to a young Persian aide. "Lead this party to barracks and see that they are made easy.

We left the officers shouting at the recruits and headed for the city. Vardanas, easily cast down by anything that showed his countrymen in poor light, stared gloomily ahead.

"Who are those?" I asked Vivanas.

"Well-born Persian youths whom the king ordered trained in Macedonian tactics, Hipparch," he said.

"How long has this been going on?" said Vardanas.

"About two years," said Vivanas. "The orders were issued long before that, but it took much time to assemble the men and gear."

Vardanas rolled his eyes heavenwards. "Auramasdas befriend me!"

"Alexander thought we were overthrown for want of steady infantry," said Vivanas with an embarrassed air. "In a few more years ..."

"In a few more years!" said Vardanas. "Alexander may be right, but I fear that trying to make phalangites of noble Persians is like carving a tombstone with a razor."

"How mean you?" I said.

"They are so imbued with the idea that the only gentlemanly way of fighting is on horseback that they have no heart for footwork. I fear not even years of practice will remedy that."

"That, as Pyrron would say, is but a foolish prejudice. The object of war is to win, be it mounted, afoot, or swimming."

"That may be," said Vardanas, "but such feelings cannot be changed by a mere command, come it from never so mighty a king."

We passed into the city, through the winding streets, and up the ramp that led to the top of the principal mound. This mound was fortified by a parapet round the edge. The top was crowded with barrack buildings, amongst which stood the ancient temples of the Sousian deities Sousinax and Nana. Worshipers crowded past soldiers, and the sound of hymns mingled with the clatter of the armorers.

The temples were crumbling. Workmen crept about on them like flies, bricking and patching, but the onlooker felt that they would never catch up with the natural process of decay.

Vardanas said: "Let me leave you here, Leon, to go home. I shall soon be back."

Vivanas made us comfortable. As we were settling in, an uproar from another part of the barracks brought me in haste to find the cause.

It was not a quarrel but a celebration. Kanadas and Siladites had come upon a group of fellow Indians who cared for the eleven elephants that dwelt in Sousa. In their joy at finding countrymen, both my Indians were shouting in their native tongue. As all the other Indians shouted too, it sounded like a riot. They laughed and wept and embraced one another, and ended by dancing round a circle, clapping hands and snapping fingers.

Having combed the burrs out of my beard and borrowed a clean shirt, I climbed the stair that led up the side of North Hill. The retaining wall was decked with low reliefs in enameled brick of life-size animals, in red, white, and gold, such as a goat-horned lion with eagle's wings and hindlegs.

At the top of the stair, a gallows reached out over the steps. From this gallows hung three men in Sousian dress of good quality. I had to duck lest I brush against their feet. They had begun to stink.

After this cheerful introduction to the civil government of Sousiana, I went on and asked for Aboulites. After waiting in anterooms until hunger gnawed my vitals, I was told the viceroy could not be seen, but that his son Vaxathras would tend to my needs.

Vaxathras was a plump little man in a gorgeous robe of silk. As many in Hellas have never seen silk, let me say that it is a marvelous lustrous fabric that comes over the caravan routes from the Sakan country. Howsomever, nobody knows where it grows, or indeed if it be the fleece of a beast or the fiber of a plant. Vaxathras also wore a fillet of silver thread about his hair. His beard was curled in ringlets; the ends of his mustache were waxed so they stuck out like spikes; and his face was powdered and painted, with a red spot on either cheek. He was so cordial he bounced.

"Come, my dear Hipparch, welcome!" he cried in Persian with a strange accent. "What can we do for you? Fodder? Nought easier! Let me countersign your order. There, present it to Ashinas. Where are you staying?"

"In the barracks on the hill," I said.

"Oh, my dear fellow, that will never do! You must move up here to the palace, with the rest of us civils. There is room for you and two or three of your officers. You have some chests of specimens, have you not?" (I wondered how he knew.) "Have your men fetch them here, too, along with any other things of value. We live in disturbed times. When can we expect you? This afternoon before dinner time? What else can I do for you?"

After Phrashavartes' haughtiness, such eagerness to please took my breath away. I mumbled assents without stopping to think and left Dareios' palace in a daze. Only when I ducked under the feet of the hanged men did I begin to berate myself for agreeing to Vaxathras' proposals without scrutinizing them more closely.

As I entered the barracks, I heard the sound of sobbing. When the crowd opened out for me, I saw that it was Vardanas, sitting with his face in his hands and weeping bitterly, while Thyestes and Pyrron and Kanadas sought to comfort him.

"What is it?" I asked.

Vardanas tried to tell me, but each time he opened his mouth he was overwhelmed by a flood of tears. At last Pyrron said: "His mother's dead."

"When did she die?"

"Two months ago, but he only now learned of it."

Vardanas' lamentations went on and on. Our efforts to comfort him only seemed to bring on more sobs, until I thought he would weep the day and night away. Never had I seen so unbridled a spate of emotion.

I told Thyestes of the plan to move the officers to the palace. "Of course," I said, "somebody maun stay with the troop."

Thyestes spoke a rude word. "Aye, I kens. You'll go up there and wallow in Persian luxury the now, leaving poor Thyestes to scratch fleabites here in barrack. It never fails."

"Na, na, buckie," I said. "I thought we'd take turns."

"What is this?" said Vardanas suddenly, his lamentations stopped as though cut off with a knife. I told him about Vaxathras.

"You must not go there!" he said. "Especially you must not take the chests there!"

"Why not?"

"I came to warn you. Aboulites and Vaxathras are plundering the Sousians worse than any of Alexander's other governors. Once they get the chests in their power, they will make away with you and keep the stuff for themselves. Trust them not!"

"What shall we do, then?"

"I bid you to my father's house; fetch the chests with you. They are not fully safe even there, but I do not think Aboulites will molest a man of my father's rank. At least, he will not until he has tried all kinds of guile."

I had an instant of wonder whether, if Vaxathras and his father were such ready-for-aughts, I was safe in the hands of Vardanas and his father either. However, having been on the road with Vardanas for five months and found him a man of the nicest scruples, I thought I could trust him if I could trust any man.

"Vaxathras expects us today," I said. "Should I send one of the men with my apologies?"

"Do not send even one of our men; he might be seized as a hostage. Find some aide of Archelaos or Masdaros to take the message." He spoke to the troop at large. "I would bid you all to stay with us, had we room. But my father has other guests, so Leon and Pyrron are the only ones we can bed. The rest shall, however, be bidden to dine with us in turn."

On the way to Vardanas' house, the Persian said: "I trust that my friends will comply with our code of manners to the extent of bowing to my father."

Thyestes muttered something about "silly servile ceremonial."

I said: "Flank Guard Thyestes, either you shall show good manners —Persian manners, that is—or you shall go back to barracks. I willna have our dear friend shamed."

"I meant nought," he said. "If he say we maun stand on our heads, I'll do it."

"Also," said Vardanas, "you will see that when my stepmother enters, I stand up until she gives me leave to sit. It were a delicate compliment to your host if you did likewise."

Thyestes said: "Ha! I thought the Persians treated their womenfolk like slaves, but it seems they defer till them, as do the Egyptians."

"Not quite," said Vardanas. "If any folk make slaves of its women, it is the Hellenes, who shut them up in the back of the house and do not present them to guests or let them eat with the men."

"That has its advantages," said Thyestes. "We thus see to it that the men get a chance to put a word in edgewise."

"And like most human institutions, its disadvantages as well," said Pyrron, clearing his throat. "As a philosopher, I hold all manners relative and matters of convention. But, as I believe in adapting myself to circumstance, you shan't find me backwards with my Persian bows."

Vardanas' house stood in spacious grounds against the western wall of the city, where the wall overlooked the Chavaspes. At Vardanas' knock, a peephole opened in the door in the blank brick wall that faced the street. The door opened. There came a barking of clogs and sounds of bustle within, as though people rushed about with last-minute preparations.

We trooped past the porter, doffing our hats and helmets. The dignity of our entrance was marred by Pyrron's tripping over the doorsill and almost falling.

The man who greeted us was tall but bent, with a long gray beard and an arched nose like that of Vardanas. He wore a long robe of plain materials.

"Welcome!" he said. "I am Thraitaunas son of Tachmaspas by name. May Auramasdas befriend you! Enter, friends of my son, and use my house as your own."

From Thraitaunas' gravity no one would think he had been scurrying about like a frightened mouse to ready his place for guests. It struck me that he was as uneasy about us as we were about him. I gave him my best Persian bow and broadcast compliments and blessings as if he were a king instead of a minor landowner.

As my eyes grew used to the gloom of the anteroom, I saw that a number of other people were lined up behind Thraitaunas. First my host presented a lean dark-skinned man of his own age, with shaven face and head, as Beliddinos, the high priest of Mardoukos in Babylon. Then he introduced his family: his surviving wife Houtausa, a thin pale woman with downcast eyes; his son Kambouzias, whose beard was just beginning to sprout; his son Ariakas, about eight; his daughter Nirouphar, almost my height; his younger daughters Mousa and Gambia.

Under Vardanas' direction, the camp men brought in the chests and stowed them in a locked storeroom. Kambouzias showed me to a long narrow bedroom and said: "When you have washed and decked yourself, lord, my father is fain to show you his garden."

Like all Persian gardens, that of Thraitaunas was of oblong shape with a cross-shaped water channel running the length and the breadth of it, a summerhouse at the farther end, and trees around the edge against the walls. Everything—paths, pools, benches, and plants—was arranged with rigid symmetry. Thraitaunas handed me a cup of water.

"Water of the Chavaspes," he said, "which our kings used to send the length and breadth of the empire so they could always drink it."

To me it tasted like any other water, though I knew that Persians distinguish among fine shades of taste in water as most nations do in wine. I uttered fulsome compliments.

"You speak Persian well," he said. Then he showed me round the garden. "This is a rarity, the yellow double rose of Isatis. Alas, Troop Leader—what is your name again? Ah, Rheon." (Like many Persians, Thraitaunas could not make an I sound.) "Alas that you will not be here two months hence, when they will all be in bloom! For four months this garden is a blaze of color, where now you see but thorny stumps and snags. What says Gautarzas?

Nirouphar, the eldest daughter, came into the garden with Pyrron and began showing off the plants. There was little understanding betwixt them, as she spoke almost no Greek and he had but few words of Persian. Nevertheless, "showing the garden" is a Persian ritual to which all guests must submit, whether or no they are fond of flowers.

Nirouphar wore red trousers and, over them, a kind of long embroidered saffron coat. She was a handsome filly, tall and well made. Her strong back and graceful croup promised some man many long delightful gallops. She had the same high-bridged nose, dark complexion, and curly raven mane as her brother Vardanas.

Now Vardanas appeared, looking far different from when I had seen him last. His long robe glimmered with gold and silver thread. The waxen ends of his mustache swept out like the horns of a wild bull, and a large red spot was painted on either cheek. This custom illustrates Pyrron's theory of the relativity of manners. Amongst us, face paint is deemed effeminate in a man; but Persians use it on formal occasions even when the man is as manly as one could wish.

"Tell us your adventures, Rheon," said Thraitaunas. "My son has given me but a few words."

We sat on benches in the garden and sipped wine while Vardanas and I told our tale. When one of us got dry, the other took up the account. Thraitaunas was stirred by the parts about fighting and hunting, muttering, "Vaush, vaush!" and plying me for further details.

The Babylonian priest, Beliddinos, clad in a long embroidered robe, gazed keenly upon us and shot out searching questions regarding war and statecraft. Meanwhile the servants busied themselves with the hearth in the courtyard, around the corner from where we sat. The delicious smells of Persian cookery wafted into the garden and seduced my thoughts from our narrative. I foresaw another defeat in my lifelong battle against my waistline, a conflict wherein the final skirmish has not yet been fought.

Pyrron made heavy going of this conversation in a tongue of which he was largely ignorant. And, methinks, he was a little put out, as he was used to being the man to deliver any lectures that were to be uttered. He rose and began to wander about the garden, whispering to himself.

Presently Nirouphar, as dutiful hostess, joined him. They sat by themselves and spoke softly, heeding us not. By bending an ear, I made out that she was giving him a lesson in Persian. Pyrron, always obliging, entered into the spirit of it but mangled the words until the lass could not help laughing, drawing a frown from her father. I felt a twinge of annoyance—not that I knew or cared aught about the wench, but it irked me to see this gangling booby garner the most nubile maiden present without a visible effort, whilst poor plain Leon, with his snub nose and his thick wrestler's form, sat solemnly answering the queries of a pair of ancients.

"... and here we are," said Vardanas, winding up his tale.

"Good!" growled Thraitaunas. "Were I young, I too would travel afar; I too would serve strange Icings; I too would see unearthly sights. But woe! My aches and ills! My knee bothers me; last month an aching tooth drove me all but mad. Now, my son, I trust you have had your fill of travel. I need your help with the stock. I am too old for much riding. And we have some special new stock to care for."

"Do you mean we got possession of some of the royal herd of—" began Vardanas, but his father cut him off with a gesture.

"Later, later," he said. "Are you home for ever and aye?"

"Not yet. I must needs go to Athens with Leon first."

Thraitaunas scowled. "I said I needed you! Must I then give a direct command? Or has travel sapped your respect for your father's will?"

"I gave my word to the king," said Vardanas. "After we deliver the elephant I shall be free."

"Fie! But a promise is a promise, I suppose. We shall speak of this anon."

The talk then turned upon lighter matters until Houtausa heralded dinner. We went into Thraitaunas' living room, where small eating tables had been set up.

Like all the other rooms, this one was long and narrow. That is the way with Sousian houses, and the reason is this. To make the houses livable in the heat of summer, the builders pile two or three feet of earth on the level roofs. This means that the rooms must needs be narrow, because the only timber that can be had for holding up this great weight is palm trunks. Since palm trunks are not very strong, the roof beams made from them must needs be short.

Thraitaunas' house slaves served a sumptuous feast. I will not delay the tale with an account of the menu, though I can remember every course to this day. It ended with a spiced and sweetened fruitcake which the Persians call "dessert." I asked Thraitaunas:

"What is this I hear about the sins of Aboulites and Vaxathras?"

"No more than one must expect when your king appoints a sly Houzan as governor instead of an honest Persian. It is the old story: taxation in advance, extortion, tomb robbery, plundering temples. Saw you three hanged men in the city? They were taxpayers who resisted Abourites' demands."

I said: "One man's wickedness becomes all men's curse, as we say in Thessalia. I swear by Zeus—or Auramasdas, if you prefer—that no more will I trust one of these governors ere I ask amongst his subjects what kind of man he be."

"Do that," said Thraitaunas. "It may keep your throat uncut till you reach your home. An uncut throat is always a useful thing to have, ha! Beliddinos stays here for the same reason you do."

Beliddinos shot a hard glance at his host as if to warn him not to talk of his affairs. But the old Persian was the kind who would speak his mind about whatever he pleased. Besides, we were all a trace tipsy. Indeed, any Persian gathering is apt to involve what seems to a Hellene like heavy drinking.

Beliddinos has gathered funds for rebuilding his tumbledown temple," said Thraitaunas, "since your government has not given him the money Alexander promised. Ho, ho! Would not Abourites like to get his talons into your cargo, my friend?"

Beliddinos said: "Do not let our host give you false ideas, Hip-parch. But a pittance have I collected; barely enough have I gathered to begin one wall of the new house of God, from pious Babylonians in Sousiana. Whither go you hence?"

"That depends. I must find Menes, viceroy of Syria, and I may wish to see the treasurer Harpalos. Do either of you gentlemen know where they are?"

Neither knew, but Thraitaunas said: "I will inquire. Though I am old and racked with pain, though I must bow the knee to a dirty Houzan, still I have connections."

Beliddinos said: "In any case, to make Babylon your next goal you will wish. There will Harpalos be if he be not in Tarsos, and there news of Menes can you surely obtain."

"Have you something in mind?" I said.

Beliddinos smiled thinly. "I mean that to Babylon I, too, must journey, and thought we might join forces. Never could the treasury of Mardoukos sustain the hire of so many stalwart guards as your troop comprises."

Vardanas cried: "Splendid!"

I said: "It sounds good, sir; but let me think about it, lest some forgotten obstacle rear itself in our path after we have made our arrangements."

"Surely, surely," said Beliddinos. "For one so young, caution you have learned; for a bluff soldier, worldly wisdom has come to you fast."

"You need not fear," said Vardanas to me. "I have known Beliddinos all my life."

"Thank you, my son," said Beliddinos to Vardanas, and then to me he said: "The first thing to think about is time. How soon will you leave? The sooner the better, ere Aboulites' ruffians come knocking for us."

"I thought three or four days would suffice for rest and refit."

"Excellent. Think on my proposal and speak to me about it; ponder it and let me know your mind."

Thyestes and Pyrron had made hard going of the conversation in Persian. Nirouphar spoke: "Father, it is a sin that you never let Dory-machos give me more lessons in Greek when he was teaching my brothers. Then we could all speak in that tongue; our Greek guests would not be put out of countenance."

Thraitaunas snorted. "My Greek is as bad as Pyrron's Persian, and I do not think Beliddinos knows any Greek at all. Anyway, it is ridiculous to talk of educating women. There is already too much education of men. Learning has caused most of the world's woes, ever since Tachmarthen forced the demons to teach him the secret of letters. Had Dorymachos not filled Vardanas' head with Greek nonsense, he would not have gone gadding off to the ends of the earth. He would not have left his poor, sick old father to struggle alone with the property. His Greek education was another of your mother's silly ideas."

"My mother had more sense than you!" said Nirouphar.

"Silence, wench!" roared Thraitaunas.

"I will not be silent!" cried his daughter. "That is what you say whenever somebody catches you in the wrong. I am sick of it!"

"Go to your room!" he thundered.

"I would not stay!" she cried, sweeping from the room.

Vardanas, glaring at his father, struck both fists against the table. I thought he also was going to rise and burst into heated speech, but he mastered himself and said: "Pray forgive us, friends. You know how families are."

"Indeed I do," said Beliddinos with a chuckle. "One of my own have I, and betimes the domestic disputes bid fair the roof to bring down."

Poor, timid Houtausa had spoken never a word. Thraitaunas drank and said: "A lively minx, my daughter. Being my wife will tame her." . Thyestes shuddered. Beliddinos said: "Do you still mean to go through with that, Thrai?"

"I said so, did I not? I thought we would marry in the spring, when the roses are out. Come to the wedding if you be in these parts."

"What if she does not wish it?"

"What do you mean? She is a good girl; she will do as I tell her."

"Like unto an itch that cannot be scratched is a contentious woman in the house. Why has she not wed one of the youths of the city? Fair she is, and over sixteen she must be. In Babylon, seven times seven suitors would she have."

"She is nineteen, but she is unwed for two reasons. First, there are no pure Ariatshisha youths around here; all have vile Houzan blood. One did come dangling after her last year, but I soon sent him packing, I can tell you. Second, I am an infirm old man; I need the care of more than one wife. Houtausa is not strong enough."

"It were a pity not to mate her to one young enough to get her with child. As we say in Babylon, friendship lasts for a day, but posterity goes on forever."

"What mean you, one young enough? I can still do my duty as a husband! You shall see. But enough of airing our private affairs before guests. Have more wine. Tell us more of your deeds of dought, young men; pray do."

After I had gone to bed, I was kept from slumber by the sounds of a terrific quarrel. Though I could not make out the words, I knew the voices of Thraitaunas, Vardanas, and Nirouphar all speaking in loud angry tones. It struck me that the three looked much alike, allowing for differences of age and sex, and probably had the same impulsive, headstrong natures. Hence no house was big enough for all at once.

I thought Thraitaunas' plan dreadful. Besides my Hellenic horror of incest, it seemed plain that his old age and her youth would be made wretched by this monstrous marriage. She ought, methought, to wed a good sound man of suitable age; a Persian equivalent, say, of Leon of Atrax. I had no thought at all of courting her myself. For one thing, she was a foreigner; for another, she was a whit more saucy and forward than I thought suitable for a wife.

Next morning, as I set out for the city to tend the hipparchia, I fell in with Beliddinos, also going to town in a tall hat and a plain brown tunic and carrying a walking stick with the top carven in the likeness of a dragon. His two slaves came with him, one bearing a pick and one a shovel.

"Whither bound?" I said. "You look as if you were setting forth on a treasure hunt."

"Not far wrong are you, my son. But the treasure I seek is the kind most men would cast away as rubbish."

"What is it, then?"

"Come and see, if you will," he said.

"You will see, forsooth," said Thraitaunas. "Were Beliddinos not one of my oldest friends, I would have him chained up as a dangerous madman."

"Hear the ignorant scoff! Well, my son, are you with me?"

Burning with curiosity, I walked with the Babylonian to one of the more ruinous parts of the city. We went into a lot encumbered with piles of broken brick that had once been a spacious temple. Beliddinos gave directions. The slaves began to dig in the places he pointed out with his stick.

Now and then they brought up a piece of brick, which they handed to Beliddinos. He studied it at arm's length (for age had made him farsighted) and cast it aside. Meseemed that, if Thraitaunas believed his friend a little mad, belike the Persian was not far wrong.

A few townsfolk gathered to watch, but with less interest than I should have expected. I said:

"O Beliddinos, were I to start digging in a vacant lot in Atrax, all the folk would think I dug for treasure and would come running with spades to forestall me. Why do the Sousians not do likewise?"

"They know me," he said. "Folk act as you describe in a town where for the first time I dig, but the Sousians have long since given me up as queer."

A slave handed Beliddinos a brick, which he stared at, turning it so that the light struck it slantwise and exclaiming softly in Syrian, the tongue spoken by most Babylonians.

"What is it?" I said.

"Look here." He held the brick so that I saw that the surface was covered with little marks. It was as if a flock of wee birdies had run back and forth across it whilst the clay was yet soft, until the face was wholly covered by their tracks.

"That is writing," said he. "Back to Babylon I must take it to be sure, but I think this is a foundation brick stamped with the inscription of King Tammaritos, who ruled Elamis before the coming of the Persians."

"A strange kind of writing," I said.

"Not at all. For thousands of years we used it in Babylonia. But alas! Yearly the number of those who can read this clay writing grows less. The day may come when the archives of our collected wisdom will lie mute for want of any who can decipher them."

"Then why collect more written bricks?" I said. "Are there men who will pay for them?"

"Nay, no such vulgar motive have I. The thoughts of past ages I seek, to keep the noble deeds of the men of yore from utterly perishing. When we get to Babylon, you must see my collection. Inscriptions of Saigon the Conqueror and Chammyrabis the Lawgiver have I."

I felt an awe of a man so deeply learned, but my own duties called. When the slaves had dug a while longer without finding anything worthy of note, I excused myself and went to the citadel.

The rest of the day I spent in caring for my hipparchia: checking and renewing equipment, touring the market place with Elisas to buy provisions, doctoring the sick, comforting the downcast, and calming the quarrelsome. The elephant was well tended in the royal pens along with the others, though the keepers complained that Aias ate as much as any two other elephants together.

Meanwhile, Vardanas swaggered about the town, calling upon his many friends. Once he passed me in the street, driving a two-horse chariot and waving gaily. I envied his looks and charm but consoled myself with the thought that Fate gives it to some to cut a dash and to others to do the world's serious work. As the fable says, no man can be first in everything.

As I walked about Sousa, I avoided dark corners and cast furtive glances over my shoulder, lest Aboulites' minions come upon me unawares. In the late afternoon I finished my tasks and hastened back to Thraitaunas' house, bringing Kanadas. My heart beat faster at the thought of conversing with a fair and well-bred lady, though I told myself I was being foolish. I had to speak sharply to myself to keep from breaking into an undignified run.

I found Thraitaunas in his garden, dictating in Persian to a slave who wrote the message in Syrian—something about selling a foal. It is curious that most Persians are unlettered in their own tongue, although some can write Greek or Syrian, and although there are systems of writing Persian.

I presented Kanadas and asked where everybody was, for the house seemed quieter than was its wont. Only Ariakas and another lad of eight were to be seen, building a kind of fort in one of the trees.

"The philosopher has taken Nirouphar to walk the dogs on the city wall," said Thraitaunas. "Kambouzias has gone with them to chaperon and interpret."

"Oh," said I, with so dour a visage that the old man gave me a look informed with suspicion.

"Know you whether they went north or south?" I asked. "No, but I daresay you can find them."

"With your leave, I will. I have a matter on which to speak to Pyrron."

"Indeed?" said Thraitaunas.

I left him talking with Kanadas and went out to the wall. Walking on the wall at sunset is a simple pleasure enjoyed, I suppose, by city dwellers of high and low degree the whole world over. Thence I could see across the low parts of the city, though the mounds cut off the view in other directions.

The sun was setting in purple and gold behind the mountains that part Sousiana from Babylonia. The sky was blotched and barred with clouds. A cool wind flapped my cloak. In the city, families were out weeding their roofs, for many Sousians raise flowers or vegetables on the earthen dressing atop their houses. Others pushed stone rollers over their roofs to flatten the earth.

Not knowing which way to turn, I went north, walking swiftly and looking sharply into the faces of strollers. When I had almost reached the northwest angle of the wall, I saw three crested Hellenic helmets. Two sat on the heads of Archelaos and Masdaros, the military commanders. I returned Archelaos' wave and Masdaros' bow. The former presented the third man, Zenophilos, who commanded the citadel.

The three officers were taking the air with their wives, who were veiled against the gaze of the curious. Archelaos cried: "Rejoice, O Leon! Are you being well treated?"

"Aye, General; none better."

He lowered his voice. "Have you had any trouble with Aboulites?"

"Not yet," I said, and told of Vaxathras' reception.

"You were wise not to move into the palace where those shameless ones could get their clutches on you. I should have warned you yesterday but did not think of it quickly enough. When I bethought me, I sent word to Aboulites that if he molested you I would hang him from his own gallows." He turned to the other two officers. "Leon and some of his Thessalians saved my life in a skirmish in Phrygia in the old days, and I am not one to forget it."

" 'Twas nought," I said.

"Still," he continued, "I would not advise you to stay here too long, lest you rouse Aboulites' greed. Despite my boastful threat, he wields great power."

"I'm off as soon as I can be," I said.

"Oh!" cried one of the ladies. "A storm is upon us!"

A great rain cloud had crept up from the southeast. The officers bade me good night and hurried away. I walked quickly back along the wall. Ere I reached the place where I had gained the top of the wall, the storm overtook me. First came a rattle of hail against the brick. A hailstone the size of a fist struck my head and dizzied me. Then rain drove down. By the time I reached the next watchtower, where a crowd of strollers huddled, I was soaked.

The rain being over, I took up my search again. A little south of the stair leading down to the street near Thraitaunas' house, I met Nirouphar, Pyrron, and Kambouzias. They were dry, having taken shelter in a tower before the rain began. The dogs climbed all over me, for they had taken a liking to my smell. Nirouphar said:

"O Rheon, how glad we are to see you! Pyrron has been telling me about philosophy, and my poor brother is having a difficult time translating."

I sympathized with Kambouzias. The abandoned wench, to flatter Pyrron, had urged him to tell her all about his theories. Kambouzias' Greek was adequate for such simple sentences as: "I have placed the lamp on the table," or "Please pass the salt," but in philosophy he was quite at sea. Nor could the lass have learned much about such an advanced subject from his fumbling translation.

Pyrron, happily unaware of this, said: "I'll go ahead, old boy, pausing for you to interpret. Now, the third mode of inconsistency in our percepts arises from the differences between the sense channels in the different cases. For example, an apple gives the impression of being yellow to the sight, sweet in taste, and fragrant in smell, but these sense impressions have no necessary connection, one with the other. Thus it follows that what appears is no more a certain, determinate thing than something else ..."

"Excuse me," I said, "but if I know not whereof you speak, how do you expect the maiden to know either?"

Pyrron shrugged. "That's what she asked for."

"Oh, pray do not stop him, Rheon!" said Nirouphar. "I love to hear him lecture. It sounds so profound, even when I understand it not."

I sighed and took up my translating, pausing now and then for a hearty sneeze. I suppose any passer-by could have seen that I had eyes only for Nirouphar, while she had eyes only for Pyrron, who had eyes for nought but his fine-spun webs of reasoning. Betimes we had to halt the lecture to untangle Pyrron from the dogs' leashes, for he would absently let them run in circles round him until he was helplessly enmeshed.

We returned to Thraitaunas' house to find a gilded litter in front of the door, with two bearers and two armed guards. A eunuch came out, leading the boy who had been playing with Ariakas. Thraitaunas' son exchanged farewells with the boy and his keeper. The boy got in, and off they went, the eunuch walking beside the litter.

We went in and found Thraitaunas deep in converse with Kanadas, with whom he got on quite well. In fact, I think Kanadas was the only one of us whom Thraitaunas liked, despite the Indian's odd ways, such as his insistence on cooking his own dinner and eating it by himself in a corner. Just now Kanadas was talking on his two favorite subjects, to wit: his dislike of the journey and the foreign lands it took him through, and the moral superiority of Indians over all other men. In spite of Kanadas' lack of tact—or perhaps because of it—his sobriety, piety, and imposing person impressed the old Persian. Thraitaunas was polite to the rest of us because we were the guests of his son; but, as he scorned all non-Arians, I do not think he really approved of us.

Indians, forbye, also call themselves Arians. Hence, although Kanadas was nigh as black as an Ethiop, a Persian gentleman had liefer have him in the family than a Hellene like me.

Thraitaunas looked up. "Well, did you get caught in the rain?"

"We found shelter, Father," said Nirouphar, "all but poor Rheon—"

I interrupted with a terrific sneeze. "Sir, who was the boy playing with your son? I saw him depart in great state, as if he were a young prince."

"He is, or was," said Thraitaunas. "That was Prince Vaukas, the son of the unlucky Daraiavaus." For so the Persians pronounce "Dareios."

"Oh," said I, regretting I had not passed the time of day with this sprig of former Persian royalty, if only to have something to tell about afterwards to make myself more interesting and impressive to others.

I sneezed through dinner and did but peck at the excellent food. Next morning I had a violent cold and fever. When I appeared at Thraitaunas' board, the family united in demanding that I go back to bed and let them nurse me.

I let them persuade me, looking forward to Nirouphar's tender care. She did devote me some time in the morning, but her ministrations proved more brisk and practical than tender.

"Keep covered and drink all of this water you can hold," she said. "No; no wine for you until you are on the mend!"

Then her father commanded Nirouphar forth to entertain Pyrron, while the graybeard sat on my bed by the hour and told me about his own ailments. If half the things he said were wrong with him were true, he had been dead six times over. Lucky for me that my sickness was no grave one, else I had wasted away from the mere contemplation of all the ills to which mortal flesh is heir!

The best thing that betided that day was when a Persian postman came in and gave me a letter, saying: "I have searched the city for you, Troop Leader. This is from the great king."

"Many thanks," I said, and tipped him two oboloi. The letter read:

EUMENES OF KARDIA GREETS LEON ARISTOU OF ATRAX

King Alexander commands me to tell yon that he follows your letters with the utmost interest. Already, mindful of your warnings about the Chaibara Pass, he has changed his plans for sending elephants westward by that route. He asks that you continue as you have been doing and write him forthwith should you find yourself in need or in danger. In addition to the praise of the king, pray accept my good wishes as well. We are now sailing down the Hydaspes, conquering as we go.

I learnt anon that when the king commanded Krateros to march to westward with a herd of elephants, they went, as a result of my advice, by Chaarena in the south instead of by Gandaria in the north.

That night I was kept awake by another familial quarrel, which led me to wonder if this were a nightly ritual. Although I was still unwell the next day, the thought of another session with Thraitaunas' symptoms drove to rise despite all protests.

"I thak you, sir," I said, "but duty cobes before adythig else. I bust prepare our departure."

Between my cold and an uneasy feeling that I was growing fonder of the sight of Nirouphar than was good for me, I went about my business with such a gloomy mien that one Thessalian asked me if the omens were bad.

That was a good question, as I had not had any omens read in Sousa regarding the next stage of our journey. I had meant to, but between fear of Aboulites and interest in Vardanas' family I had forgotten. That night at dinner I spoke thus to Beliddinos:

"O wise one, till now I have bought omens at each stage of the journey, though I have grown increasingly doubtful of their value. This time I have not yet done so. But I know the fame of Babylonians at reading the scroll of Fate. What think you? Should I go to an oracle monger as before, or can you read our future in the stars?"

"Far different from what vulgar fortunetellers assert is the pure Babylonian star doctrine," he said. "We hold that the gods, who live in the stars, by their radiations affect events on earth. But in a general sense only, they affect them. Thus when in the ascendant is Nerigal, likely is war; but that tells not if Leon of Atrax will be slain in battle.

I think we can, by long study and observation, the effects of the gods' influences on kings and nations dimly see. But as for casting horoscopes for common men like you and me, as to whether we should lend or borrow, or ride or walk—faugh! Mere quackery is it, my son; foolish deceit it is."

"Then how about the run of omen casters: the liver inspectors, bird watchers, and the like?"

"Believe as you list, and ill it becomes me to contemn my colleagues. In confidence, however, the more I study such matters the less faith in them have I. Somewhere in the sphere of the gods, I doubt not, is a perfect scheme of correspondence between omens and future events. The flight of birds, the form of the liver of a sacrifice, the mysteries of name and number, and the aspects of the heavens are all conjoined in one vast, mystic web of causality. But how much do we know about this? Not so much as we pretend, I warrant."

"Then think you I could as well save the king's money and not buy omens?"

"I think you could. Of course, you will still have to tell your men the omens are good, for less worldly in such matters than we are they."

I spent a day counting our money and casting accounts. The results of my reckonings filled me with forebodings.

Despite his boasted connections, Thraitaunas had learnt nought of the whereabouts of Menes and Harpalos. Therefore I bade Thraitaunas and his family a decorous farewell at dawn on the morn of the twenty-third of Poseidon. To feast my eyes on Nirouphar once more, I stretched out my leave-taking until even old Thraitaunas, for all his love of ceremony, became uneasy. That something was amiss in the family I could divine from the formal way they addressed one another.

At last Vardanas said: "Be off, Leon; I have another leave to take and will ride after. Rakous will catch up with you in no time."

He winked. Thinking that this farewell was with a sweetheart, I demurred not. I clasped hands in the Persian manner with Thraitaunas. Then, followed by Beliddinos and his servants on mules, I rode to the west gate to meet the hipparchia. We all trotted out through the gate, over the bridge of stone that spans the Chavaspes, and across the plain towards Babylon.

It was a misty morning. As I rode, I pondered on the mysterious ways of Fate, which forestalls the union of couples, otherwise attracted to one another, by causing them to be born of different nations. The pathos of it all made a tear run down into my beard. Thyestes said:

"What ails you, body?"

" 'Tis but the tail end of my cold," I said, which was not altogether false.

Then I squared my shoulders and put all that behind me. What little I knew of Nirouphar implied that she would be at best ill-suited to me, even supposing the many obstacles to a closer relationship could have been overthrown. Although my years of living with Hyovis had made me think well of Persian women, I desired no foreigner for a legal wife, let abee one who took such a vigorous part in familial disputes.

Fate had been kind after all. I was lucky to have escaped entanglement. Not even a god, they say, could be at once wise and in love. What I really needed, I told myself, was a good long canter in a whorehouse in Babylon.

The sound of hooves at a run brought me round. Three figures loomed out of the mist. One, I saw, was Vardanas, another his Kolchian slave, who had been with him since erst I knew him. The third was a Persian woman. So, I thought, has he brought his sweetling along? And did it mean we should have a vengeful husband or outraged father on our trail?

"Who's this?" I said.

"You know her," said Vardanas. The woman pushed back her hood and behold! It was Nirouphar. "She could not bear the old man any longer, let alone wed him. He is a terrible tyrant in his family, you know. So she has run away to see the world, trusting to my protection."