Gates of Fire: A Novel of Thermopylae by Steven Pressfield

Author:Steven Pressfield
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-03-24T05:00:00+00:00

the maiden Diomache, his cousin whom he loved?"

Artemisia exchanged a glance with Mardonius.

"His Majesty yields to sentiment," the lady addressed her King, "and fatuous sentiment at that."

At this moment the service portal of the pavilion parted and permission to enter was asked by the detention officers. The Greek was borne in, yet upon his litter, eyes cloth–bound as ever, by two subalterns of the Immortals preceded by Orontes, their captain.

"Let us see the man's face," His Majesty commanded, "and may his eyes behold ours."

Orontes obeyed. The cloth was removed.

The captive Xeones blinked several times in the lamplight, then looked for the first time upon His Majesty. So striking was the expression which then appeared upon the man's face that the captain remarked angrily upon it and demanded to know what arrogance possessed the fellow to stare so boldly at the Royal Person.

"I have looked upon His Majesty's face before," the man replied.

"Above the battle, as all the foe have."

"No, Captain. Here, in this tent. On the night of the fifth day."

"You are a liar!" Orontes struck the man in anger. For the breach to which the captive referred had in fact occurred, on the penultimate eve of battle at the Hot Gates, when a night raid of the Spartans bore a handful of their warriors within a spear's thrust of the Royal Presence, inside this very pavilion, before the intruders were driven back by the Immortals and Egyptian marines swarming to His Majesty's defense.

"I was here," the Greek responded calmly, "and would have had my skull split apart by an axe, hurled at me by a noble, had it not struck first a ridgepole of the tent and embedded itself there."

At this, the general Mardonius' face lost all color. In the west portal of the chamber, precisely where the Spartan raid had penetrated, was lodged yet an axe head, driven so deep into the cedar that it could not be extracted without splitting the pole, and so had been left in place by the carpenters, sawn off at the shaft, with the pole repaired and rewound about it with 212

STEVEN PRESSFIELD

cord.

The Hellene's gaze now centered directly upon Mardonius. "This lord here threw that axe. I recognize his face as well."

The general's expression, for the moment struck dumb, betrayed the truth of this.

"His sword," the Greek continued, "severed the wrist of a Spartiate warrior, at the moment of drawing back his spear to thrust at His Majesty."

His Majesty inquired of Mardonius if this indeed was true. The general confirmed that he had in fact inflicted such a wound upon an advancing Spartan, among numerous others delivered in those moments of confusion and peril.

"That warrior," the man Xeones declared, "was Alexandros, the son of Olympieus, of whom I spoke."

"The boy who followed the Spartan army? Who swam the channel before Antirhion?" Artemisia asked.

"Grown to manhood," the Greek confirmed. "Those officers who bore him from this tent protected by the shadows of their shields, those were the Knight Polynikes and my master, Dienekes."

All paused for several moments, absorbing this.

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