Negotiations Break Down

As they approached the Persian cavalry, Philistos told Davos that the Persians at the front were Ariaeus, Artaozus, and Mitradates—the three men Cyrus the Younger had trusted most in life. The one in the middle, Davos recognized as Systes, the Persian envoy from before.

The officers halted about twenty meters from the Persian horsemen.

“Come closer!” Ariaeus called, pointing to the ground before his horse.

The officers did not move.

Systes could not help sneering, “Are all Greeks so cowardly?”

“Because the Persians break their promises again and again, we no longer dare to trust Persians!” Xenophon retorted.

“That’s right! Persians are all shameless scoundrels who would even deceive the gods!” Cleanor shouted angrily. His words struck a chord, and a chorus of curses erupted.

“Silence! Listen carefully to the Great King’s command!” Ariaeus shouted.

“That’s your Great King, not ours. If you have something to say, say it. If not, we’re going back!” Davos yelled back.

“We Greeks are free, not slaves to your king like the Persians!” Timasion roared, half-proud, half-sarcastic.

Ariaeus’s nose twisted in fury. He glanced at Systes, who nodded, and reluctantly unrolled the papyrus in his hand, reading aloud: “Hear me, Greeks. I, Artaxerxes, Lord of the Persians, King of All Nations, declare that Clearchus violated his oath, broke the truce, and the gods have punished him. Proxenus, Menon, Achilles, and Socrates—four leaders—have reported his conspiracy and are now enjoying the highest honors under my satrap Tissaphernes! To prevent such terrible betrayal on the road, and for your safety—” Ariaeus raised his voice, speaking solemnly, “I order all Greek soldiers to surrender your weapons. The money that bought them came from the rebel Cyrus the Younger, and his wealth was taken from the Persian treasury, so it rightfully belongs to me! Surrender your weapons, and I swear by the supreme god Mazda that I will guarantee your safe passage to Ionia!”

“Hahaha!…” Davos laughed loudly. “A wolf tricks a deer into being friends, then eats it. After tasting the spoils, the wolf wants to trick all the deer into breaking off their own horns, so the wolf can feast on their flesh without worry! Hahaha… What kind of fool would fall for that again? Or has your king lost his mind?!”

“How dare you!” Ariaeus pointed at Davos in fury. “Insulting the Great King is punishable by burning at the stake!”

“Enough, Ariaeus, you shameless wretch! And the rest of you, Cyrus’s closest comrades—are you not ashamed before the gods?” Cleanor pointed at Ariaeus, Artaozus, and Mitradates, and thundered, “You swore an oath with us before the gods to be allies against the Persian king! Now you betray us, collaborating with that despicable villain Tissaphernes, not only tricking Clearchus and the others but also trying to sell out those of us who remain! Even in the underworld, Cyrus the Younger will curse you for what you’ve done!”

Ariaeus shrank his neck uneasily and glanced involuntarily at Systes, who looked as if it had nothing to do with him. Forced to continue, Ariaeus said, “The Great King genuinely wants to send you home safely. The rebel Cyrus the Younger has received the most just punishment. You were merely deceived by him! The Great King is merciful and does not want more pointless war on Persian soil! However, thanks to the report of Proxenus and the others, we discovered that Clearchus had been plotting against Lord Tissaphernes and the Persian army for over ten days, spreading rumors everywhere to sow discord between Greeks and Persians. We had no choice but to act against him!”

“Since you say that Proxenus and the others exposed Clearchus’s plot and received your reward, then let them come here. That would naturally dissolve our suspicions. As leaders, they could also give better advice for reconciliation between both sides!” Xenophon was still trying to rescue Proxenus.

“That’s right! Let our leaders come here, and then we’ll believe you!” the officers shouted.

“Uh… Proxenus and the others accepted Lord Tissaphernes’s invitation to a feast… they got drunk… so…” Ariaeus stammered. Systes grew impatient and said loudly, “The Great King commands: surrender your weapons immediately, and you will be guaranteed safe passage home. Otherwise, we will no longer provide you any assistance!”

“By Ares above, Greek warriors will never abandon their weapons and be slaughtered!” Timasion banged his spear against his bronze shield and roared.

“Whoever tries to take our weapons, we’ll fight to the death!” Cleanor cried angrily.

“Proxenus and the others can’t come—not because they’re drunk, but because you murdered them, isn’t that right?!” Xenophon said bitterly. He stated the outcome so gravely to force Ariaeus to tell the truth, but instead it ignited the officers’ fury.

“The Persians want to kill us all!”

“Avenge the leaders!”

…

Enraged, the officers closed in on Ariaeus and the others. Seeing the situation turning dangerous, Systes wheeled his horse and fled. Ariaeus and the rest followed. After riding a short distance, Systes looked back and saw they had put some distance between themselves and the Greeks. Humiliated and angry that he, a noble Persian and a relative of the royal house, had been scared off by a band of Greek barbarians, he shouted harshly, “Greeks, you have missed your best chance! Soon you will regret it!”

“We’ll see who regrets it!” Xenophon answered defiantly.

As the Persian cavalry departed, everyone was weighed down with worry. It was almost certain that the mercenary leaders were done for. The Persians had dropped all pretense. What were they to do now?

Surrender to the Persians? Even the Great King’s own brother, Cyrus the Younger, had been brutally beheaded and his hands chopped off. Most officers did not think they would fare any better if they surrendered—either killed or enslaved. That option was unacceptable, impossible.

The only other choice was to fight the Persians again in this unfamiliar land. Now they were marching along a route they had never traveled before, led here by the Persians. Thousands of miles from home, without Persian help, they could only grope their way forward, facing countless hostile tribes and towns, and having to fend off Persian attacks. The worst frustration was that the Persians could not defeat them in a pitched battle, but neither could the Greeks catch them. One defeat could mean annihilation for the whole army. Dwelling on these difficulties, everyone was disheartened and at a loss. When they left camp, the soldiers still had some spirit, but when they returned, every man was sighing and wearing a worried face.

Back in camp, when the officers in charge of each unit gathered again, Davos naturally followed Philistos to join the discussion. As a newcomer, he spoke little, mostly observing these officers. In the heated debate, their personalities emerged easily: the hot-tempered Timasion, the shrewd Cleanor, the cautious Xanthiparis, the affable Agasias who got along with everyone…

Xenophon was far more active. He argued vehemently with others and said passionately, “Gentlemen, Clearchus and the others have been captured by the Persians. We must immediately elect new leaders for each unit to replace them, then hold a full army assembly to restore the soldiers’ resolve to fight the Persians and their confidence that we must rely on ourselves to get home. If this chaos continues, we’ll be finished before the Persians even attack!”

Davos believed Xenophon was absolutely right. Though he was still a novice in military matters, in his previous life he had been a village official and then a director in a high-tech development zone, managing far more than these ten thousand soldiers. He knew well how important it was to unify thought and boost morale for any group.

Timasion seemed somewhat irked by Xenophon’s overassertiveness. Without even looking at Xenophon, he turned to the others and said, “Don’t rush. Cheirisophus will be back soon!”