CHAPTER 65

 

Xsayarsa took Hephaistion to the enormous tent where the Great King’s concubines were located and that confused the Macedonian. Why was he taken there? He wasn’t going to have diner there, was he? He had only seen the giant tent from outside and heard numerous rumors about the beauty of the women that live inside, 360, each for every night of the year; heavily and jealously guarded and attended only by eunuchs to prevent that the young women were defiled.

 

The Persian took the Macedonian to a spacious “room” with magnificent furniture and shelves full with flasks, boxes and containers. It smelled really good, everything was decorated with flowers and aromatic candles, statues, tapestries, carpets and curtains that fell from the roof. Hephaistion saw his own reflection on a giant polish piece of metal with a carved frame that served like mirror, still without a clue of why was he in this place. 

 

- Sit down –said Xsayarsa, happy and excited, looking among the shelves for a brush and a comb.

 

- Why? –asked Hephaistion, his arms crossed over his chest; he knew he was being hostile but he felt so out of place here that he couldn’t help it. What was this place? 

 

- Do you always question everything? –asked the Persian, but when he saw the look of “I want to leave now” in Hephaistion’s eyes, he sighed—I’m going to prepare you.

 

- Prepare me how?

 

- ATASH! –the Persian ignored him and called his servant and, speaking very quickly in Persian, asked for several things. The servant ran to obey—Peris, you are very handsome but that doesn’t mean you can’t take care of yourself.

 

- What are you talking about? –now Hephaistion understood even less.

 

- I’m going to comb, bath and dress you –explained Xsayarsa very serious.

 

- Are you insane? Who do you think I am? A concubine? –the General was outrage, who ever listen to the Macedonian in that moment would think he was going to be tortured. He was defensive and won’t give up without a fight.

 

- So, according to you, personal care is something only women do? I insist, you Greeks are BARBARIANS; I’m sometimes surprise to see you know how to take a bath. SIT DOWN! –Hephaistion puffed out and sat on the first chair he saw, he still had his arms crossed. 

 

Xsayarsa approached and released the Macedonian’s long hair, losing himself in its smoothness, combing it with his fingers just for the sheer pleasure of feeling it.

 

- You have the most wonderful hair I have ever seen…and I have seen a lot; I used to be the beauty doctor of the harem –the Persian explained—But…this –he took his battered and uneven hair tips—This is horrible, how do you cut your hair? With a knife?

 

- Yarsa, I’m a soldier, how else did you expect me to cut my hair? –the General tried to explain.

 

- YOU CUT YOUR HAIR, THIS HAIR –he shook the hair in his hand— WITH A KNIFE?! –exclaimed the Persian hysterically—I’m going to faint. 

 

Hephaistion narrowed his eyes, and puffed out.

 

- Yes, I did…when I was allowed to cut it…that is –the muttered.

 

- Who wouldn’t let you cut your hair? –asked the Persian, brushing it, with an ivory comb.

 

- Alexander…the Macedonian King, he likes…liked my hair long –he explained—Even if I don’t. 

 

- Well, as I said, you have wonderful hair, but….I don’t think it suits you this long –said Xsayarsa frowning— It’s almost reaching your waist and that makes you look thinner than you really are –Hephaistion had no idea of what he was talking about, it was hair, for the Gods’ sake—I want to cut it.

 

- CUT IT?! –exclaimed the Macedonian, turning to see him as if he had just proposed to burn the entire camp.

 

- What’s the problem? You said you don’t like your hair long, I don’t like your hair this long, and the Macedonian King has no vote on this now –said the Persian failing to see the problem.

 

- Yes, but…

 

Alex is going to kill me –he thought, trying to find a way out but failing miserably. The best way to keep a lie is to pay attention to the details, if he refused to cut his hair he would raise Xsayarsa’s suspicious…

 

- All right, do as you want –and those words made the Persian the happiest person in the world.

 

Hephaistion stayed there for hours, and even if he complained a lot about everything, Xsayarsa made him bathed in milk, honey and chamomile; he cut his hair, trim his fingernails, ordered to give him a delicious massage (which was the only part when he didn’t complain) and made him wear on his face an unhealthy color mask. 

 

- Yarsa, this is disgusting –said Hephaistion, taking off the mask from his face.

 

The Persian slapped his hand, as if he were a small child.

 

- That! Works miracles so stop complaining –Xsayarsa opened the coat the Macedonian was wearing, to see his legs, the soft fabric sliding over his thighs. 

 

- What are you doing? –exclaimed Hephaistion indignant.

 

- Praised be to Ahura Mazda! –exclaimed the Persian at the verge of tears—I don’t have to wax you. 

 

- WHAT?! –exclaimed the Macedonian in horror.

 

- You know, the concubines complain less than you. 

 

- I still don’t understand why do I have to suffer all this –said Hephaistion, taking off the mask, and Xsayarsa slapped him again.

 

- Because the Great King likes to see beautiful people –said the Persian—Why do you think that only the most beautiful boys are sent to him as eunuchs? For example, each year, Babylonia sends 500 young castrated men to the court

 

- 500! Wow!…Yarsa, does he have sex with the eunuchs? –that wasn’t a very polite question but he was very curious. The Persian sighed and took a seat in front of him.

 

- If I have a coin for every time I hear that question…Eunuchs are not prostitutes –said Xsayarsa, enunciating—I don’t know why you Greeks always think that we are some kind of courtesans, well, NEWS!!! We are not. We served at the court, as messengers, servants or, as I used to be, a beauty doctor…of course there is always the eunuch who prostitutes himself in order to please someone. You see, we have a very difficult position in the empire, we can’t fight or bear children, and we need a “patron”, an important man, to take care of us, and in return, we are very loyal.

 

- So, your patron is the Great King?   

 

- For now yes, tomorrow… –he sighed—And again, why am I telling you this? –the Persian smiled playfully—Do you want to sleep with an eunuch? 

 

- What?! NO!…I mean, no…I was just curious, I mean I have nothing against you, and isn’t like I found you repulsive…which I don’t –the General was nervous an that made Xsayarsa  laughed.

 

- A man like you, I imagine you had more lovers than the concubines that are in this tent –said the Persian. 

 

Hephaistion sighed.

 

- No, I only have one lover in all my life –he said with sincerity, making the eunuch curious—Yarsa?

 

- Yes, darling?

 

- The concubines are the same as the King’s wives? –asked Hephaistion confused.

 

- No, no, no –Xsayarsa shook his head—Concubines, are concubines. They are very beautiful or exotic women who are brought from every corner of the empire –he explained—They can be slaves, free women, peasants, foreigners…as long as they are beautiful AND virgin, they can be in the royal harem. But a wife can only be a noble woman. If you want to insult a noble, take his daughter as a concubine, THAT is a great insult.

 

- And the Queen? How does the Great King choose a Queen?

 

- Well, he can choose whoever he wants, for example, our current Queen is the most beautiful woman in Asia, Queen Stateira, who is also the sister of his divinity…

 

- He married his own sister?! –exclaimed Hephaistion in shock. It was as if he had married Berenike, and bear children with her!… he felt sick only thinking about that.

 

Xsayarsa narrowed his eyes.

 

- You Greeks surely are dramatic; what’s wrong with that? Many Asian Kings do it to preserve their dynasty without contaminating their bloodlines…OH! By the love of Ahura Mazda! It’s so late –the Persian stood up again—Come, I’ll wash your face. 

 

- Finally! –exclaimed Hephaistion, tired.

 

By the time the Macedonian was out of the concubines’ tent it was very late at night. He kept touching his hair almost compulsively; Xsayarsa had cut it a little above his mid-back, but had left a longer strand that ran down his shoulder, like a brushstroke of silkiness reaching his waist, and adored with small gemstones. Two twisted thin strands were caught with a small brooch holding his hair and the rest was loose. He was wearing a dark red chiton with gold embroidery, bracelets and the most magnificent par of sandals he had ever had.

 

And all of this to dine with Darius –he sighed—Oh great! I reek of perfume; I’m going to kill Yarsa. 

 

Again, Hephaistion had to pass through the security posts before arriving to the magnificent “hall” of the tent were the Great King took his meals when he had company. This time, and for the Macedonian utterly surprise they were going to be alone, just the guards and the servants. One eunuch bowed in front of him and showed him where he was going to sit, at the right side of the Great King, not to close and not too far.

 

And again, everything was magnificent, gold and silver couches all beautifully draped, and gold and silver tables, everything prepared for the fest with great magnificence (1) Hephaistion could hardly believe his eyes, even the carpets beneath his feet were extraordinary master pieces, and, in that moment he was grateful that Xsayarsa had dressed him according to the occasion, for once, he didn’t feel out of place, not with all the gold he was wearing that night. 

 

He felt so strange, dressed like a Prince, waiting in that magnificent hall with extraordinary wallpapers, tapestries, carpets, luxury tables, and outstanding couches. Many men in his position would be lusting over the riches in that “room”, but not him, he couldn’t care less about these things…of course he liked to have a comfortable life but he had more important things in his mind than this.

 

Darius wasn’t there, but he appeared after a few moments. The Great King was a living piece of art, with those colorful and beautifully embroidery clothes, matching jewels, and the attitude and the handsomeness of a man who clearly was born to be the master of millions of souls. The Macedonian stood up and only sat again when Darius ordered it.  

 

The food was served on all the many tables, like a sumptuous buffet, showing the different dishes of the Persian cuisine. “When the Persian King went to war, he was always well provided not only with victuals from home and his own cattle, but also with water from the Choaspes […] One thousand animals were slaughtered daily for the King; these comprise horses, camels, oxen, asses, deer, and most of the smaller animals; many birds also are consumed, including Arabian ostriches, geese, and cocks."(2) Many servants stood ready to obey the Great King’s wishes, and Hephaistion felt his stomach hurting when he smelled all that delicious food. He hadn’t eating anything since morning, thanks to Xsayarsa.

 

- Tell me Hephaistion, how do you find my army? –asked Darius watching him very please, while the Macedonian made an effort to keep his manners and not eat as his hunger dictated. Since he arrived at the Persian camp, he found out he loved Arabian ostriches, he had never tasted anything like it but had named it his favorite food, it was the leaner meat he had ever tasted, and marinade like that it held it’s moisture deliciously.

 

- It’s most impressive, your majesty, but is far too numerous –said Hephaistion.

 

- Numerous? And since when, having a superiority in numbers is a bad thing, commander? –asked the Great King intrigued. He would remember to thank Xsayarsa for the wonderful job he had made with the Macedonian. 

 

- An army, as numerous as yours, your majesty, is difficult to maneuver –answered the Macedonian—Few men and better train are the best option to use a better strategy. 

 

- Strategy? –asked Darius as if he didn’t know what meant that word—Hephaistion, what makes you think I need a “strategy” to defeat the Macedonian invader? There is no need of a strategy; my superior numbers would do the job. 

 

Hephaistion said nothing; he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was obvious that Darius had no idea against whom he was going to fight. Alexander was a genius, the most brilliant man he had ever known, the best commander, the bravest soldier…only a great strategist, a better commander could defeated him. 

 

- As you say, your majesty.

 

Well, better for Alexander if Darius thinks like this…even though we will have a hard time fighting against an army as big as the Persian –thought the Macedonian, returning to his ostrich.

 

- Tell me, what kind of man is the Macedonian King? –asked Darius with curiosity; but his curiosity had nothing to do with military or political interests, he wanted to know what kind of man had this godlike man as his lover.

 

- He is a complicated man, your majesty –said Hephaistion slowly—He has many dreams in his stubborn head, but, he is a brilliant commander and he never stops until he gets what he wants.

 

- Why were you with him?

 

What kind of question is that? –thought the Macedonian. The cupbearer took a sip from the Great King’s cup, before giving it to him, to check it wasn’t poisoned.

 

When the General didn’t answer, Darius continued, taking his cup of wine.

 

- There are 3 reasons of why a man or a woman chooses to be a King’s lover: ambition, love or revenge –the Great King took a sip from his, now safely tested, wine cup— Why were you the lover of the Macedonian King?

 

A hunch told Hephaistion that it was better to tell him the truth…or the half-truth. 

 

- I thought I love him –he lied.

 

- Do you still love him? –asked the Great King; there was something in the General’s voice that made him feel the admiration, love and respect he felt towards the Macedonian King.

 

- I respect him, your majesty –Darius nodded, that was a good answer.

 

- Do you think you are capable of defeating him on the battlefield? –that question left Hephaistion thinking for a moment.

 

Not even for a second he actually thought he would stay with the Persians long enough to fight against Alexander, he would never fight against him and the Macedonian army; but, if that happened, what would he do?

 

- I don’t know, but I know him and I can assure you that, if there is someone who have a chance against him is me –said Hephaistion sure of his words, but that wasn’t what he really thought.

 

For the General, there was no one better than Alexander, and he wouldn’t be able to defeat him because it was impossible to know what was he going to do, he was, unpredictable, a genius in what he did and his specialty was war.

 

- I have a present for you, Hephaistion –said Darius changing the subject and taking him out of his thoughts.

 

The same eunuch that had received him approached, holding a magnificent box. The eunuch bowed in front of him, and extended his arms to the front, for him to open the box. The Macedonian didn’t know what to expect, but he opened his gift, he didn’t want to insult the Great King even if he wasn’t comfortable with the situation. Inside, he found a magnificent dagger, it’s gold hilt covered with jewels and the polish blade reflected the surprise in his eyes. 

 

- You are most generous, your majesty –said Hephaistion, it was an impressive gift and if he hadn’t been in that situation he would have not accepted—Thank you.

 

He hated to receive expensive gifts, but here he didn’t have a choice. 

 

Darius smiled. If Hephaistion were a woman, he would have gave him earrings, a necklace or beautiful dresses, if he were Persian, he would have covered him in expensive gifts and slept with him that same night, after dinner. It was torture to have him so close, watching that perfect skin and well formed muscles and being unable to touch him…but after so many years he had learned that Greeks had a very particular way of thinking. He wanted the Macedonian in his bed, but willingly.

 

- Tell me something, Hephaistion, what do you want? –asked the Great King with interest, his dark eyes following the firm muscles of his legs—What do you want to accomplish here? Why did you accept my proposal of working for me? 

 

- First because of the pay –that answered made Darius smile, money always solved his problems, and had a lot—Second…because I couldn’t stay with the Macedonian army after I found out that I had a son with the King’s sister.

 

- So, in other words, you are staying here because of my gold.

 

- Yes –it pained Hephaistion to say that he was a man with no honor selling himself for gold, but it was necessary and he forced himself to remember he was doing this for the love of his life. 

 

- And you expect to make much money as the commander-in-chief of my troops –that wasn’t a question. 

 

- I hope so.

 

- But, what would you say if I tell you that you could do much better if you were my lover –those words put Hephaistion on alert. He hated when this happened to him, why couldn’t he have a normal relation with other people? King Philip wanted to be his erastes, Philotas had an obsession with him, Memnon had tried to seduce him, Krateros had stole him a kiss, all the girls in Pella wanted to be his wife, and now this.

 

Oh great! I’m definitely curse –thought Hephaistion trying his best to not start screaming, throw Darius his plate with ostrich meat or dedicate him one of his famous nasty looks.

 

- I’m sure, your majesty, that there are many more handsome, intelligent and stronger men than me who are…worthiest of your highness attentions.

 

That was good, and the Macedonian congratulated himself. But Darius laughed as if he had just told him a great joke.

 

- Hephaistion, I have seen the most beautiful boys of all my vast empire, the most handsome men…and I have never seen a man like you before –said the Great King—Stronger? You defeated the strongest man of my Empire and you are very clever.

 

This is just getting worst –thought the Macedonian.

 

- Thank you…

 

I guess –said Hephaistion to himself.

 

- Think about it –said Darius, his dark eyes shining with intensity—I am a very generous lover, I can assure you.

 

XXX

 

It was almost dawn when Hephaistion came back to his tent, he was sober, he had drank just a little, even if that supposed a great effort from his part since the wine was superb, but he wanted to stay alert and use all his wits with the Great King. He yawned; he was very tired and only wished to sleep on his extremely soft bed, among his extremely silky sheets, rest his head in those extremely plushy pillows... He had had a very difficult night, and he didn’t have an idea of what he was going to do now.

 

Darius wants me to be his lover –he thought, shaking his head—There isn’t a way in which I could accept –he felt a chill imagining himself with the Great King—One thing is to pretend I’m a mercenary, another completely different to act like a whore. But I can’t delay this, pretending I’m thinking in Darius’ proposal for days or I can’t possibly say no to him…what can I do?…

 

- Phai…

 

Oh Great! Now I’m hallucinating Alexander’s voice –though Hephaistion, yawing again. He really missed him, days passed slowly when they were apart, and life lost it’s color and happiness; it was so funny how one person could influence the mood of another so much, but that was the truth ... his life was not as intense, happy and beautiful if Alexander wasn’t with him.

 

- Phai…

 

Hephaistion abruptly stopped, and turned. He had definitely heard the King’s voice, he walked slowly to the source of the sound, his hand looking for the astonishing dagger that the Great King had given to him, and then, he heard it again. 

 

- Phai, it’s me.

 

- Alex?

 

Alexander came out of his hidden place, behind 4 boxes; he was covered with a black cloak and smiled immensely happy when he saw his beloved.  

 

- Oh! Phai…thank the Gods! You are fine –said the King embracing him with force, resting his head on his best friend’s shoulder.

 

- What are you doing here? –asked Hephaistion in shock, trying his best to keep his voice low.

 

- I came for you.

 

- Are you nuts?! –now the General was in shock—Have you any idea of how dangerous is for you to be here?

 

- That was what we told him –said Leonnatos, appearing with Perdikkas and Kleitos behind him.

 

- Guys! What are you doing here? –asked Hephaistion, without believing his eyes. Good thing he hadn’t drink that night or he would blame the wine for being hallucinating his friends.

 

- We came with this moron, to see that he doesn’t get hurt –said Perdikkas.

 

Hephaistion shook his head, thinking what to do.

 

- Come to my tent, we can’t stay here –he feared the guards could catch them.

 

They followed Hephaistion to his tent, and as soon as the group came inside and all the lamps and candles were light up, they opened their eyes and mouths in astonishment. 

 

- Holy harpies on a tree! –exclaimed Perdikkas, watching the luxurious furniture as a dog in a butcher’s shop.

 

Alexander was going to say something about the tent when he turned and saw his beloved dressed like a Prince. Then, he forgot how to speak and the only thing he could do was to stare at him like an idiot, making Hephaistion blushed when he noted that glint in his eyes that spoke only of desire.

 

- Yes, poor Hephaistion, we must rescue him or only the Gods would know what kind of terrible things are these Persians doing to him –said Kleitos with mockery, watching the General dressed like that, even he felt a stab of please at that sight of beauty. Xsayarsa truly had made a great job with him.  

 

- Whatever –said Hephaistion brushing his hair back his ear—You have to get out of the camp before somebody…

 

- You cut your hair! –exclaimed Alexander, indignant as if his beloved had killed his mother—How could you? –he walked to him, and took his hair, letting the locks slid through his fingers; all right, Hephaistion looked handsomest now, much handsomest if that was possible, but, but, but…—Why?   

 

- Alexander, we have more important things to worry about –his General scolded him; he took his eyes again to the rest of his friend—You have to take him out of here.

 

- Well, I’m afraid we are not going anywhere without you –said the King dead serious.

 

- We tried to convince him to stay in our camp, Phai –explained Perdikkas, eating from the magnificent bowl with fruit that was resting on one table—But you know him –he pointed at the King with his jaw—He is too stubborn. 

 

Hephaistion sighed, while Kleitos inspected the place.

 

- Isn’t any wine here? –asked the hipparch.

 

- Inside that cabinet –answered the General and Kleitos went happily to check—I told you in my letter –he continued, talking to Alexander— This is a great opportunity to know more about Darius and his army…

 

- Phai, you have been here for 2 weeks, it’s enough, I want you back with me –one look at Alexander’s eyes told him that the King was going nowhere without him—I can’t risk your life like this, I need you at my side not playing to be a spy. 

 

Hephaistion took a deep breath.

 

- All right –he gave up, he couldn’t fight back those arguments, even less knowing that Alexander had come personally to look for him, and the King was right, by now he had a lot of valuable information and he couldn’t stay longer, not now that Darius wanted him to become his lover— Let’s go, but we have to hurry before the change of guard.

 

Alexander’s smile was huge.

 

- Mm…this is delicious! –exclaimed Leonnatos with his mouth full, crumbs covering his inflated cheeks, eating the cookies that were on another table. This was what caused months of being eating only the army rations.

 

- UNCLE!!! –exclaimed the excited voice of Achilles, he had been sleeping until not too long ago, but as soon as he recognized the voices inside the tent, he jumped from his bed and ran to the King.

 

- Aki! –Alexander carried him and the boy hugged him with force, like a little monkey—You grew up, my boy.

 

- Uncle, uncle, guess what? I have a best friend now –said a very happy Achilles.

 

- Really? –the boy moved his head up and down.

 

- Yes, his name is Cyrus Ochus and he is 6 years old –said Achilles.

 

- Aki, you will have to tell your uncle latter –Hephaistion interrupted him, while Alexander put the boy back on the floor—We are leaving now.

 

- Leaving where? –asked Achilles confused.

 

- Back to the Macedonian camp.

 

- And when are we coming back here? –asked his son.

 

- Never, Aki –Achilles opened his big uneven eyes, and these shone like jewels, his pupils dilated like the ones of a little kitten, two fat tears appeared at the corner of his eyes.

 

- Why?

 

- Because we can’t come back… –Hephaistion tried to explain and then, his son started to cry like he had never done before. 

 

- I DON’T WANT TO GOOO!!! –cried Achilles with all the force of his little lungs.

 

Alexander and Hephaistion saw each other without knowing what to do. Until now, Achilles always obeyed and had never cried like this, screaming with that piercing high pitch voice of little children.

 

- Aki, please calm down –naively, the General tried to reason with him, but his son kept crying—Let me explain this…

 

- I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE MY FRIEND!!! –he screamed among sobs, and his father ran a hand through his face, not knowing what to do now.

 

- For the love of Zeus! Shut that kid up! Or he will wake up the entire camp –said Kleitos angrily, walking to where they were.

 

- Achilles, stop crying! –said Leonnatos raising his voice, but the boy ignored him—I tried –he said to Hephaistion, shrugging—It work with my kids.

 

- Achilles, men don’t cry so stop this now –said Perdikkas but it was as if he had said nothing.

 

Men don’t cry? Hephaistion hated when people said that, but he said nothing in front of his friends.

 

- What the hell is going on here? –asked a half sleep grandfather Demetrios entering the tent with Kyros behind him—Alexander! –he exclaimed in shock—What are you doing here?

 

- Long story –said the King.

 

- ENOUGH, KID! –shouted Kleitos, with the same authority he used with the Ile Basilike. 

 

Achilles saw him scared with big round eyes; still sobbing and crying but silently, and then, he had a hiccup attack; he grabbed the edge of his tunic with force.

 

Alexander kneeled at his side.

 

- Aki, you want to see your friend Cyrus again? –the boy moved his head up and down—As your father said you can’t stay here and you can’t come back, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to see him again.

 

- Really…hic?

 

- Really, now stop crying –said the King, taking his handkerchief to clean his face.

 

Kleitos frowned with his arms crossed.

 

- Between you and Hephaistion are going to make a girl out of this kid –said the hipparch, disapproving—You spoil him too much. How old is he?

 

- 3.

 

- 4 –Alexander and Hephaistion spoke at the same time—He is 4, I asked Cloe when is his birthday and it was almost 2 weeks ago. 

 

His best friend saw him with eyes wide open. Had he written to the same woman that wanted to kill his son to know when was his birthday? Only Alexander would do that.

 

- You still want me to train him when he is 6? –asked Kleitos.

 

- Yes –answered the King.

 

The hipparch scratched his jaw.

 

- Send him to me when he is 5.

 

- Why? –Hephaistion wanted to know.

 

- I fear that, by the time he gets 6, he would be beyond salvation –the General saw him through narrow eyes.

 

- All right, I’m very sorry to interrupt, but what’s happening here? –asked grandfather Demetrios.

 

- We are coming back –said Hephaistion—Kyros, pack quickly we have to leave as soon as possible.

 

The Theban sighed; he was going to miss the food…and the luxury, the food, the amenities, the food, the hot baths…and again, the food. But he obeyed at once.

 

Alexander couldn’t believe the lack of security in the Persian camp, many sentries were sleeping and the place was so big, that it was very easy for them to sneak out. It had been a great experience for Hephaistion, but he agreed, it was time to say good-bye. He wondered what Darius was going to say when he found out…and Xsayarsa, he couldn’t believe it but he was going to miss the noisy eunuch. 

 

XXX

 

(1) Pierre Briant. From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Empire, p 288

(2) Pierre Briant. From Cyrus to Alexander: A History of the Persian Emp