THE Prince of Iran, about to depart on the King’s business, knelt before his mother to receive her final blessing. The stately dame allowed no tear to dim her eye and no tremor to weaken her voice during this ceremony.
“Go, my son, with my love and faith in you,” she said. “But remember your royal birth. Should your sire die, you will be head of the royal family in Iran; and by reason of your descent from an elder brother, you will be entitled to overlord even Cambyses. Your father has been content to be second to Cyrus, but I shall yet behold you crowned King of Kings!”
“Not while Bardya and his brother, the Great King, live, mother!” replied the Prince, arising from his knee. “But I shall remember your words.”
She bowed low before him, as to a superior. “Son, I salute you, King that is to be!” she said, smiling.
Troubled in spirit, he kissed her cheek and turned away.
The mother watched her son until he disappeared among the trees of the park. Then, throwing a veil over her head and face, she went to the seclusion of her bedchamber, there to weep the bitter tears of grief she would not let the world see. The Prince hastened to the stone bridge where Bardya and Athura, who had preceded him, were waiting to utter their farewells.
Bardya kissed his friend’s cheeks, embraced him tenderly, then mounted a horse and rode away to the city. Athura and the Prince lingered on the bridge awhile, loath to part. The perfume of flowers filled the air, as the sun kissed away the dewdrops from their petals. The voices of birds and the ripple of water formed an orchestra attuned to the songs of love.
“When I am permitted to return to this paradise, I will build there, by the side of my father’s palace, another twice as large and adorned with greater splendor,” he said, as they were about to separate. “There shall you dwell as becomes the Queen of the Aryans and the ruler of my soul.”
“May your mother’s prophecy come true, beloved!” she replied. “I shall count the days till your return, or until I go to you. Send for me quickly and I will come. That brother of mine, who calls himself King of Kings, shall not prevent me. Listen! Should I send to you, asking aid, will you come, even though in disobedience to his orders?”
“Yes! Did not Cyrus at the same time he exacted my oath also promise you to me? But Cambyses will not dare refuse you or insult me by long refusing his consent to our marriage.”
“His hatred toward us may overrule his reason.”
“Then he shall listen to force! I will send a letter to him as soon as my government is placed in order, demanding that he send you to me. He will then have no excuse.”
“Send quickly then, for I fear trouble!” Tears filled her dark eyes as she spoke.
“Should he trouble you, go to my father!” he said reassuringly. “He will call in the seven great nobles of Persia to your aid. Even Cambyses will fear them.”
What else was said need not be recorded. Love, in these great ones of earth, produced the same sighs, the same halting words, the repetition of promises, assurances, and pledges, the same beaming eyes and fluttering hearts, as it ever has in all who have loved, be they high or low, known or unknown, sung or unsung. They parted, he to join the waiting Imperial Guard, now to be known as the Prince of Iran’s Guard, and she to return to his mother.
Having marched rapidly to Susa, the Prince and his army encamped in a plain near that city. The satrap of Susa was ordered to procure supplies and a caravan for his long westward march. The camp lay on the south bank of the swift Choaspes, in a park set apart for the King’s use. Here were many palms and plane trees. The Prince’s tent was erected beneath the spreading branches of trees on the margin of the river, where in soldierly simplicity he received the visit of the satrap.
On the evening of the second day after his arrival at this camp, the Prince, as was his custom, went out for a walk. The dark peaks of the Zagros range in the east lay bathed in the last soft rays of the sun. Shadows were falling in the glades and upon the river. With bent head and hands clasped behind him, he took little note of his surroundings, until at the end of half an hour he was met by a man, who seemed also absorbed in meditation. This man was tall and graceful. His body was clad in a long cloak, a plain but fine Babylonish garment, and on his head he wore a round, black Persian cap. His feet were shod with sandals. A full, dark beard, streaked with gray, adorned his face. His eagle-like countenance was strong and placid. Large dark eyes glowed with intelligence from beneath his heavy brows.
The Prince whose eyes were bent on the earth, was startled from his reverie by a deep, musical voice:
“Hail, Prince of Iran!”
Involuntarily he grasped the hilt of a dagger in his belt and gazed doubtfully a moment upon the speaker. Then with a glad cry, he hastened forward and bending low, exclaimed: “Hail, Belteshazzer, prophet of God! I did not expect to meet you here! I rejoice exceedingly! I pray your blessing!”
“May the Lord of all the earth bless you, my son!” said Belteshazzer, solemnly, laying his hand upon the Prince’s bowed head. “It is a great pleasure to behold you again after so many months. Tell me how you come here. Is that your army yonder? I have been away several days in the mountains whither I go to study, and I am now returning to the city.”
The Prince stood before the prophet reverently, as one stands before a loved teacher.
“My guard is encamped yonder,” he answered, indicating his camp. “We march upon the Great King’s business to the lands beyond the Euphrates, where, it is said, I shall find the people in rebellion. The King has seen fit to honor me with the government of the western provinces.”
Belteshazzer smiled. Knowing well the political affairs of the empire from his long experience as adviser to the late King and as governor of several provinces, also knowing Cambyses and his dislike for the Prince, he perceived the pretext which the King had used to send the Prince far away from Iran.
“I had not heard of any serious disturbances in those provinces,” he said. “It is true that some wild, turbulent bands infest the outlying mountains on the northeast; but the provinces have been happy under the rule of Cyrus and have not suffered at the hands of Cambyses. Perhaps the Great King deems it wise to scatter the veterans of Cyrus to distant provinces!”
“That may be,” assented the Prince. “But you, Teacher, why here? The governor of Medea should not be in Elam.”
“I am no longer governor of Medea. The Great King has deprived me of that office. I am no longer an adviser to the King. I am going to Babylon to resume my duties in the college of wise men, to spend my time in the study of ancient records and to observe the changing heavens, until such time as the God of heaven and earth shall order otherwise.”
“Come with me!” exclaimed the Prince, impulsively. “I shall profit by your knowledge and experience. You shall have the chief place in my satrapy.”
Belteshazzer shook his head.
“No, it would not be best. The Great King is very jealous. He is scattering the men who surrounded Cyrus and is building up a circle of his own. His command was laid on me to proceed to Babylon, there to reside with the college of priests. But fear not, Prince! We shall come again in due time.”
“Is this a prophecy?” inquired the Prince, his countenance alight with eagerness. “Ah, Belteshazzer! how I have longed to obtain that power you have,—the power to look into the future, to listen to the voice of Shraosha and to tell that which will be! Come with me to my tent and take refreshments. You shall stay with me at least until I march on to my provinces. I will consult God through you. My heart is very heavy. Upon my soul is an oath that galls me; and I fear for my friends and for the Aryan people under this King. After you are refreshed, it may be you will consult the messengers of God and tell me the right course of action.”
Belteshazzer looked upon the young man with sympathy. Gifted beyond all living men with the power to read souls in their nakedness, he saw here a strong, upright spirit of good intent, in whom truth held sway, whose mind was large enough to grapple with and solve the problems of earth, a leader among men; and he loved the youth. He did not answer immediately, but looked into the eyes of the Prince earnestly as if reading his thoughts. The Prince could not drop his gaze. Belteshazzer presently looked away to the west, where the last glow of the sunset still reddened the sky, and he sighed deeply. Then his eyes swept slowly around the horizon, resting an instant on the towers of the distant city and then upon the tents of the army. The river’s low murmur came up from the darkening vale mingled with whisper of leaves moved by the breeze.
“I know, my son,” he said after a moment’s silence, “that you have given an oath which may not be broken. I read the thoughts that recur, tempting you to break it. I read your heart and the love in it for the sister of the King, and the brotherly love you hold towards the brother of the King. I know that in the King’s mind is a fierce hatred towards you and a foul intent to make away with his brother; and that he is even now plotting against him. I know that dark and bloody days are impending; but the God of Spirits has guards around you, and as long as you walk after the good intent in your heart, you will triumph over all dangers and you will come at length to a higher estate. More than this I do not know.”
The Prince bowed his head reverently before the speaker. In the presence of this man he was humble,—this man about whom wondrous stories had been told: of his great wisdom; of his power over the spirits of men; of the prophecies he had uttered; of the handwriting on the wall at the close of Belshazzar’s feast, when the great Cyrus was entering the inner city of Babylon by the river-bed and seizing it while the people feasted; of his immunity from fire and from the wrath of wild beasts, which, it was said, were his friends, no matter how savage; and of his steadfastness in the worship of his God.
“O Prince of God!” he exclaimed as the prophet ceased speaking, “I would give all that I have to hold communion with the unseen powers as you do! I have read the teachings of the great master, Zoroaster, and I have listened to the wise men who have studied all that is to be known; but, when I stand before you and listen to your words, my soul sinks, and I wonder if I worship the true God, or whether there are two gods, yours and mine, or more; or whether Ahura-Mazda is but an idea. I wish that I might sit again at your feet and learn the whole truth!”
Belteshazzer looked upon the young man, with love and admiration expressed in his large, deep eyes. His voice when he again spoke, was full of sympathy and fatherly kindness. “Son, there is not much to learn, save this: that God, the Supreme Ruler of all, is one God; that He manifests His power by His Spirit and by His messengers; that He is known to all peoples, but under different names and different aspects, and that He is the Father of all. Men have forgotten Him and have attributed to Him qualities that He has never possessed. Some have made Him a monster, have carved Him in wood and stone, made idols to represent Him and fallen down before them, forgetting that God is a Spirit, who never looks upon idolatry with allowance—forgetting, because not seeing! But of old, when there was but one family of men on this earth, God was known to all men. His spirits and messengers walked and talked with men, until men by gross and sensual lives made it impossible. The Ancient of Days gave man a life of immortality; breathed His own life into the first man, and he became a living soul; made him free to live as he would, to choose good and evil. Men, from the first days, ages ago, lived happily, until selfishness drove them to quarrels, to murder, and to other sins. Then they separated, families moving hither and thither over the world, forgetting each other; some descending into ignorance and barbarism; others ascending to a higher state of knowledge; all looking upon nature and clothing nature’s God in their own vain imaginings. Some kept the knowledge of God more perfectly than others. The Spirit of God talks with every man, bringing up to his spirit suggestions of better life. From time to time great teachers are sent. So came Moses to us, the sons of Abraham and Heber. So came Zoroaster to the Aryans. And a day will come—I have seen it in a vision!—” here the Prophet’s voice thrilled with awe and his eyes were cast upward to the heavens,—“I saw in a vision one night, years ago, before the great Cyrus overthrew Babylon, One, like the Ancient of Days, sitting on the clouds of heaven; and there came before him One like unto a son of man; and to Him did the Ancient of Days give dominion and glory over all peoples of all the earth and all people should in all their divers languages serve Him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion and His kingdom shall never be destroyed. All the nations of the earth shall serve Him gladly!”
He ceased a moment and stood enraptured, contemplating the heavens and recalling again the glories of his vision. The young man looked upon the seer’s countenance with awe. He endeavored to gather the full meaning of the spoken words. Whether he spoke, he knew not, but his mind did form the question, “When shall this be?”
The question came to Belteshazzer and he answered: “I know not when, but He will come in the fullness of time. He will not reign as kings reign, but only in the souls of men. He will waken men to everlasting life, men who have endeavored to do well. He will waken others to shame of their evil lives and to everlasting contempt. Then all men shall have full knowledge of God. None shall fail to know their Redeemer. He will come when God wills.”
Belteshazzer ceased and again sighed deeply, and for a time gazed at the sunset glow in silence, but his eyes saw not the glories of the sun. With his inward eyes he was looking again at that mighty vision of which he had spoken. The Prince broke the silence.
“You said that a Spirit stands guard over me and that I shall triumph over dangers. How stands such spirit? What is he? Why may I not see him? If I could commune with the unseen presence, perhaps he would guide my steps that I make no error.”
Belteshazzer shook his head and replied: “To some it is given to commune with spirits, but it is only to those whose lives are spiritual. To me it has been given to speak with Gabriel, the messenger of God, and with Michael, the soldier of God and leader of his hosts against the powers of evil. It may be that God will permit you to see. Come, let us sit down! I feel even now the nearness of spiritual influences.”
They sat down side by side on a flat rock at the margin of the river bank. Below them the bank fell away with gentle slope to the stream. The valley was now full of shadows. Trees and shrubs were seen as dark spots on the dull gray of sun-scorched grass. Twilight was rapidly deepening into darkness. Belteshazzer took the Prince’s right hand into his left. Raising his right hand to the heavens, he prayed inaudibly, the movement of his lips alone indicating his action. The Prince sat motionless, with wide eyes and bated breath. Awe entered into his soul and a chill ran over his body, not from fear but as if a cold current of air from the mountains had touched him. Suddenly a light cloud of mist seemed to come up out of the valley and from it emerged the semblance of a stately warrior, whose countenance, seen as in a white light, bore a striking resemblance to the Prince’s father. His stature was above that of ordinary man. He was clad, it seemed, in brilliant chain-mail. A sword hung at his belt, a spear was in his hand, a bow at his back. He stood erect with one foot advanced and one hand outstretched as if in benediction over the Prince’s head. Luminous, translucent, quivering with light, yet very real, was the presence. The Prince involuntarily raised his hand and bowed his head in salutation. Belteshazzer sat still, calmly regarding the vision.
“You may speak to him freely,” he said.
“Who are you that comes so gloriously?” demanded the Prince.
A strong voice seemed to answer: “I am Achæmenius, your ancestor, Prince of Iran. I am permitted by the Supreme Power to march at your side. In you I see the hope of the Aryans, the most worthy son of my family. Be of good cheer! A host encamps about you. Only seek ever after the truth and avoid the lie. Behold! error is creeping into the minds and hearts of the Aryan people. Idolatry and false magic, fostered by the evil ones, gain headway among them. It is for you ever to strive for truth and for the knowledge of God, the one supreme God, known to our race from the ancient times, known to this Belteshazzer and by him worshiped. It is your duty to restore our people to right worship!”
“But what is to come? What course shall I pursue, O glorious Spirit?”
“It is not given me to prophesy. Only the Supreme One may give the spirit of prophecy. But I know that you are chosen to be a leader and that many peoples shall bow down before you as lord. Keep ever your purpose to be true and truthful, to live uprightly and justly, and to banish from among our people idolatry and lying. More am I not permitted to say. Farewell!”
As suddenly as the presence had appeared, it passed away, seeming to dissolve in thin air; and only the two men remained, sitting side by side on the rock, with the dark vale before them, the breeze whispering about them and the brilliant stars above. The young man was the first to speak. He rose and shook himself as one might who rises from a troubled dream.
“Was it a vision, O Prince of God?” he demanded, “or was it a man? Was it a spirit, or did I dream?”
Belteshazzer answered somewhat reproachfully: “My son, this was no dream! You have seen a veritable spirit, one who lived in the flesh and reigned in Iran centuries ago. Under him marched a great army from Bactra to Rhages and thence south into Fars, driving out the ancient peoples and there establishing his kingdom. I have seen this great Spirit before, when Cyrus was King.”
The Prince exclaimed fervently: “Then it is no fable that men who die shall live again! That which I have heard and doubted, now I know!”
“Truly you have spoken! Death is but a change, the taking off of a worn-out garment, this body of earth. It is the release of the soul, that glorious body within, from the trammels of mortality.”
“To be so glorious, it were better to die!”
“Nay, not till your work is done! The life now given you is but a training for the future and should be lived by you in such manner that men will rise up and call you blessed.”
They turned towards the camp, and, walking slowly, continued to converse upon the mysteries of life. They passed the sentinels and soon came to the Prince’s pavilion, where the cooks anxiously awaited their master’s coming to his supper, long since ready. While they supped, they continued the discussion and, long after their meal, they sat together as teacher and pupil, the one pouring forth wisdom from his vast store of knowledge, the other receiving and storing it in his mind.