An Elephant for Aristotle

Book Nine ATTIKA

The Destroyer moved but slowly, as she had only half her normal complement of three hundred and twenty rowers. The place of the rest was taken by Aias' pen and food crib. As was most of the fleet at Ephesos, the Destroyer was manned by free hired rowers. Polyphron explained:

"It costs more in the short run, but you're in less danger of having them seize the ship, tear all the free men to pieces, and row off to become pirates, than with a shipful of slaves."

We crept across the angle of the Ikarian Sea towards Mount Mykale. As the morning passed and Samos rose higher out of the sea, we could see the opening of the strait that sunders this isle from the mainland.

The sky was fair, the breeze light. Nonetheless, the waves were big enough to give a slight but regular motion to the ship, like unto an easy single-foot. Vardanas and the Indians became violently seasick. The elephant grumbled.

Finding that I, too, had a slight headache, I took a walk about the deck. I passed Pyrron and Nirouphar in converse. Nirouphar looked pale, while Pyrron, leaning lazily against the rail, spoke:

"... now observe, my dear, and you will see an exemplification of one of the major arguments in favor of the sphericity of the earth.

Notice how, as time passes, Ephesos disappears below the curvature of the sea, while Samos rises out of it."

"Oh, for Mithras' sake, stop lecturing for once!" said Nirouphar. "I feel unwell."

I hid a smile and walked on. Later I returned, sat beside the lass, and held her hand without speaking. She smiled gratefully; for once my habit of long silences was appreciated.

In the middle of the day, the oars of the lower banks were shipped to release the rowers for their midday meal. When each group had eaten in turn, the short oars were put out again. During the afternoon we rowed around Poseidon Promontory, with its splendid temple of Poseidon, and entered the strait. Aias fell silent as the ship's motion quieted.

Soon the strait opened out again to the south. We crept past the Heraion, rising back from the beach, and saw Myron's colossal statues of Zeus, Athena, and Herakles standing about the shrine. As the sun was setting behind Mount Kerkis, we came into Samos Harbor and dropped our anchor weights behind the huge breakwater. The city is built on flat ground around the harbor, but tiers of white-plastered houses extend up the hillside like rows of marble benches in a theater.

The whole hundred and sixty sweating and stinking rowers swarmed out on deck, climbed down the bow, and plunged into the shallow water, splashing and yelling. Then they waded to shore and went into the town, their wet rags clinging to them. They shouted boasts of what they would do, and how many times, to the whores of Samos.

Small boats put out, some with merchandise, some merely offering to ferry folk to land. I went ashore with my friends. We toured the town, where Pyrron showed us the birthplace of Pythagoras. We also visited the temple of Hera, which we had seen from the ship, but we did not have time to climb the mountain to see the famous aqueduct bored by the tyrant Polykrates through the bowels of the hill.

The next day we headed westward. We coasted around the north of Ikaria and stopped for the night at the island's only town, Oinoe. This, however, is such a wretched little village that few of us went ashore at all.

We left the Sporades behind and drove west into the Aegean. Polyphron told me he meant to pass between Delos and Tenos.

Poseidon, however, had other ideas. Shortly before noon, clouds swept over the sky from the north, and Boreas howled in our ears. The waves, already choppy, rose still further. The ship broke into a hard trot, jerking and groaning. Presently the oars of the lower bank were pulled in so that the oar holes could be stopped up. Sailors formed a chain to hand bailing buckets up from the oar deck. To my anxious questions, Polyphron replied:

"I like it not. It looks like an Etesian storm."

The elephant squealed and moaned. The motion of the ship made him stagger about his pen, bumping against the sides. Every time he did so, the ship shuddered and tipped. The Indians were in the pen with him, shouting endearments over the roar of the wind to soothe him. They had to keep skipping about in the ankle-deep water to avoid being trampled.

Polyphron hastened to the pen. He said to me: "By Zeus, 'Ipparch, you'd better do something before that monster charges through the side of the ship and sinks us!"

Kanadas slipped on the watery floor of the pen and sat down. Aias made one of his lunges. I was sure the elephant would tread the Indian flat. But Kanadas, with a mighty wrench, threw himself to one side as the elephant's feet came clown.

"Kanadas!" I shouted. "Can you make the elephant lie down?"

The Indians held a brief but hot discussion in their own tongue. Then they shouted: "Leto!"

The elephant knelt and lowered himself to the floor of his pen. There he lay with the water washing about him. He squealed and gurgled whilst the Indians petted and praised him.

The wind howled louder. Gusts of rain lashed the deck. My people huddled at the stern, where the cabins gave some protection. The women and children had been put into the cabins lest they be washed overboard. Vardanas, gray of face, clung to a piece of woodwork and muttered prayers to Auramasdas between retching spells.

The only one who seemed undisturbed was Pyrron. The philosopher clung to the rail, looking out into the raging seas with keen interest as the wind whipped his shirt and fluttered his hair and beard. As I came up to him, clutching the rail to keep from being swept away, he said:

"A fascinating phenomenon, the sea. For instance, why does it stay the same depth, when so many rivers constantly augment its volume?"

"By all the gods, how keep you so calm?" I shouted. "Belike we're on our way to Poseidon's realm, elephant and all!"

Pyrron pointed to the pigpen. One of the pigs stood with its legs braced against the motion of the ship, eating sturdily into the pile of garbage that had been dumped in the pen.

"A wise man could take a lesson in serenity from that young fellow!" he shouted back.

Polyphron blew his trumpet. Naked sailors picked up the light jury mast that lay on the main deck and tried to step it in a small socket forward, abaft the forecastle. They staggered about, wrestling with the mast, screaming at one another, and hauling on ropes. Several times they almost had it in the hole, when a pitch of the ship threw their plan awry. More than once I looked to see the whole lot swept overboard as wave crests slashed across the deck, covering it with water several fingers deep.

Polyphron stood on the forecastle, shouting directions. At last the stick went home, and the sailors secured it by stays to posts on the deck. Then they began trying to hoist a small sail. There were many failures and tangles of ropes before they got the thing up. It was not much bigger than a cloak, but it seemed to suit Polyphron. And indeed, the ship's gait settled down to an easy canter as soon as the sail had filled with wind.

Then Polyphron hurried to the main deck and clambered down to the oar deck, where he shouted more orders. The rowing stopped. Pair by pair, the long oars of the upper bank were pulled in through the oar holes.

Curious, I risked a dash across the deck to the hatch to see how this was done. The stench and din in the oar deck were frightful, but there was a kind of mad order about it. For each group of five men to draw a thirty-cubit oar in through the oar hole took careful timing so as not to fall foul of their comrades. With the ship pitching so violently, this became difficult. A couple of oars had broken; rowers sprawled on the deck, adding their cries to the hubbub. Water raced back and forth along the low outer parts of the deck with each pitch of the ship.

Little by little the captain brought order out of the confusion. In time the last oar had been stowed and lashed down. Then Polyphron let rowers come on deck, a few at a time, for a breath of fresh air.

They grinned and cracked jokes as they did so. I decided that professional rowers were all men of mighty thews and puny wits, without the sense to be frightened by their deadly peril.

I started for the stern. A monstrous wave washed right over the poop, drenching those huddled there. Water raced over the main deck. I clung to the rail and should have made out well enough, but Pyrron lost his grip and shot down the edge of the deck, knocking my feet from under me. I managed to keep my grasp on the rail, and clung with my legs dangling overside as water rushed over me. I thought my grip was weakening when a strong hand hauled me back to safety. It was Inaudos. As he led me back to the quarter-deck he bawled in my ear:

"See, I save your life, as I say!"

Up forward, Polyphron and a sailor caught Pyrron as he was being washed overboard and hauled him back by his ankles. They righted him and dragged him back to the quarter-deck. Polyphron bellowed:

"Now stay there, you two idiots! I've enough worries without 'aving to fish you out of the deep!"

When I got my wind back and saw that my friend was safe, I asked Inaudos: "Have you ever been on a ship before?"

"No. What of it? Kordians fear nought on land or sea."

Except your wives, methought. With the oar ports all blocked, the sailors bailing, and the small sail keeping our bow downwind, the ship steadied. Great seas raced up behind us; it looked as if each wave would overwhelm us. But the poop deck rode high; the wave passed under us, hissing and boiling; and the stern dropped into the trough that foreran the next.

Polyphron reeled aft to the quarter-deck to assure himself that the steersmen were holding hard to the tiller that worked the steering oars. Then he tumbled down the ladder again.

"How goes it?" I shouted.

"We shall live, I 'ope; but we may end up in Crete or Egypt. I told the admiral we should wait another ten-day."

With dusk, the clouds broke up and the wind fell, though the ship still labored under heavy swells. Shouts from the sailors brought the captain in haste to the forecastle. Before us loomed a mountainous mass.

Polyphron shouted orders. The rowers put out the oars of the upper bank. With short quick strokes and careful timing, we swung to the right and rowed past the thundering, rocky shore. More than once I thought the swell would sweep us on the rocks, but we crept out of their reach. For a time we rowed by starlight.

The sea calmed until I felt I could risk speaking to the captain. "What land is that?"

"Naxos."

Vardanas said: "Was that not a frightful storm, Captain?"

"Not too bad," said Polyphron. "This ship has lived through worse. One can expect such a blow crossing the Aegean almost any season but late summer and autumn."

"Auramasdas save me from a really bad one, then!"

At midnight, as the half moon rose over the peaks of Naxos, we rowed into the harbor. Though the ship was now steady, the elephant refused to rise, but lay groaning and squealing with seasickness. When we dropped the anchor weights, my seasick hipparchia raised a feeble cheer of, "Iai for Thessalia!"

The next day we spent repairing our battered ship. First, howsomever, all the folk—passengers, sailors, and rowers—made a procession to the temple of Dionysos, on an islet in the harbor, to offer money for a handsome votive tablet. Even Pyrron contributed, though he murmured to me:

"Perhaps the gods did save us. But then, what of all the crews they have failed to save?"

That evening we held a party in town and got drunk on the famous wine of the island. Even Kanadas showed a tiny trace of tipsiness. Aside from having to break up a few fights between rowers and townspeople, nought marred our gaiety. The Persians and Indians, though, swore never to set foot on a ship again if ever they survived this voyage.

Next day we rowed to Kynthos, where we put the rowers ashore for the night. Then we proceeded into the Saronic Gulf, past the rocky Paralian Peninsula, and so came at last to Peiraieus. We crept around the promontory of Akte, under the frowning fortress of Eetioneia, through the sea gate in the breakwater, into Peiraieus Bay, and into the inner harbor of Kantharos. Here we dropped our anchor weights amongst many great ships of war.

And thus, on the twenty-fourth of Thargelion, in the eleventh year of Alexander's reign and the third year of the hundred and thirteenth Olympiad, the king's elephant expedition arrived in Attika. We had been ten months and twelve days on the road and had but one day more of travel ahead of us.

After a talk with my officers next morning, I decided not to deliver the elephant that day. There were too many other things to do first. When I proposed leaving Aias aboard the Destroyer an extra day, however, Polyphron objected.

"Look 'ere, 'Ipparch," he said. "I 'ave work to do on the ship, to ready her for the voyage back. I can't get at it whilst that 'ideous monster's in the pen."

"But it would be a fearful bother for us to take Aias off and stable him! It would cost silver, too."

"I can't 'elp that. 'Ere's your destination, so get yourself and your people and your creature ashore."

"Another day's delay won't slay you. You told me it was too early for safe voyaging anyway."

"A plague on this argument! What I say on my own ship stands. Get off, all of you!"

"Gentlemen," said a timid voice with a guttural accent. It was Elisas. "Can tell Captain Polyphron how to turn the elephant's being on his ship to advantage."

"Well?" growled the Milesian.

"You can make a profit from it, noble Captain. For half the taking, I will do it for you."

"What's this idea, man?"

"Do you agree to an even division?"

"Yes, yes. Out with it!"

"All right. You are my witness, Troop Leader Leon. See you those people?"

A small crowd of longshoremen and loafers had collected on the waterfront near the Destroyer. They pointed at our ship and exclaimed with more interest than one would expect a mere ship to arouse. Then I saw that they were looking at Aias' back and the top of his head, which showed above the main deck. The sun shone on the granite-colored hide as the elephant paced about his pen.

Elisas said: "We can send word to shore that men will be allowed aboard to see the elephant for—" He closed his eyes in thought.

"Those are mostly poor men and slaves, are they not? I put the fee at four coppers."

"Done!" said Polyphron. "I'll 'ave her towed to a pier and set out the big gangplank."

I left Polyphron and Elisas to their plans and went about my other affairs. One task was to pay off the Thessalians. I did this in the captain's cabin to get away from the noise of sight-seers who trooped aboard at a half-obolos a head to see the elephant. Of the twenty Thessalians who had begun the journey from India, counting the officers, one had been left behind wounded, two had been slain, and one had deserted. I could not give an accurate reckoning of the women and children, for I had lost count of births, deaths, runaways, and new concubines picked up.

Thanks to the deaths, to the heavy fines I levied after the mutiny in Kilikia, and most of all to Prince Arivarates' generosity, I ended up better than I had feared. I was able to give everybody his due pay and his bonus and still have an adequate sum left over to maintain the Indians during their stay in Athens. The understanding was that they should stay with Aias until they had trained local men to take their places. I also had Xenokrates' fifty talents, but this I kept in sealed bags separate from the rest. There were five of these bags of gold pieces, each weighing fifty pounds.

When all had been paid, we went ashore. Our first task was to change our money into Athenian. Hitherto, we had used Alexandrine with little trouble. For years, Alexander's mints had been melting clown Persian treasure and pouring out new coins. Hence, though much Persian coin was still current in the empire, everybody accepted the new coinage. In Greece, however, each state still clung to its own coinage.

We pushed our way through the chattering throng to the section of the colonnaded Deigma devoted to banks. At random, I got in the line before the change table of the firm of Dareios and Pamphylios. The bankers were a pair of stout middle-aged Anatolians, probably freedmen. Dareios, who handled the money-changing table, came from Armenia. His partner, who took care of loans and deposits at another table, was, as his name showed, a Pamphylian from the southern coast. No doubt his real name was too hard for Greek tongues and so had been lost in the course of his adventures. Both were surrounded by slave clerks with account tablets and abaci and sacks of coin.

When we had bought enough Athenian owls to keep us in food and shelter for several days, we ate our lunch and went to buy horses. I picked a stout chestnut stallion named Thunderbolt. "Snail" would have been a better name, but at least he bore my weight without complaint. Vardanas bought two, one for himself and one for Nirouphar. He remarked:

"We call these little things rabbits in Persia."

He also bought a slave, a lumpish, tattooed, infibulated Scythian with barely enough wit to keep from stepping off a roof. Vardanas paid three hundred drachmai for the man, which I thought much too high. But I had decided that it was hopeless to try to make a thrifty shopper of him.

I did not feel the need of a slave, as I had the faithful Inaudos at my elbow. From him I learned to prefer a willing paid worker to most slaves. For one thing, I do not like to tie up several pounds of my capital in a human being, who is more likely than a well-tended horse or cow to run away, or to be stabbed in a brawl, or even to murder his master. There are of course advantages the other way, too. For example, it is hard to find a really willing free worker; and, if they are unwilling, one cannot beat them much, lest they leave.

When we had found stable quarters for our new horses, we went back to the ship to ready ourselves for the day of delivery. I did not repeat my error of Persepolis, that of being careless of my appearance. Inaudos polished my helmet until I could see my face in it. Kanadas wrapped his head in a new length of colored cloth and gave his beard a new coating of blue dye and cleaned his silver bangles. Vardanas got out his best embroidered coat and trousers, curled his beard, and was stopped only by my earnest protests from painting his face.

My last task of the day was to write two letters. One was to King Alexander, telling him of our safe arrival and my discharge of the soldiers. Of course, I expressed my joy at his recovery and wrote that my next letter would probably be the last.

The other letter was to my parents, to be delivered by one of my homeward-bound Thessalians. After telling them somewhat of my adventures, I besought them to write me and promised to be home in a few months at most.

The reason I gave them for not going home sooner was that I now had a matchless chance, unlikely to befall again, to study under the philosophers, as I had planned to do long before as a beardless youth. This was true as far as it went, but I told them not that an even stronger motive was the presence of my longed-for Nirouphar. As Vardanas planned to stay in Athens for a time, his sister would naturally be there also.

Some of the Thessalians set off for home as soon as they were paid off. Others, learning that they could have free quarters for another night, stayed aboard the ship. Klonios spent the afternoon in Athens finding the Thessalian consul, an Athenian named Epikerdes, to arrange quarters for those Thessalians who wished to remain in the city.

When, next morning, we were ready to take Aias ashore, most of the Thessalians had gone about their business. Some had struck out for home; some were sight-seeing; some were looking for investments for their money. Four spent the night in such violent carousal that the Scythian archers had to be called to arrest them. They had to pay several pounds of silver in damages.

Five Thessalians, including Klonios, were still around when the time arrived to leave the ship. I persuaded them to come with us to find Aristoteles. It would, I told them, be a historic occasion.

Thirteen of us thus marched down the gangplank soon after Helios, rising over Mount Hymettos, gilded the bronzen helm of Pheidias' colossal Athena on the Akropolis of Athens. There were, forbye, porters carrying Aristoteles' specimens and Xenokrates' gold. I invited Elisas, too, to attend, but he begged off on the ground that he had to sell his Lydian carpets.

As we tramped through the straight, right-angled streets of Peiraieus, slave girls bringing the day's water to their masters' houses dropped their jugs and ran screaming at the sight of the elephant. Aias was fractious. Several times he balked or tried to go up the wrong street, and squealed angrily when made to obey.

At the stables we found that not everybody had a horse. So we rented three to fill out the total, as well as a cart to carry the specimens and the gold. Then we clattered out of Peiraieus on the Hamaxitos.

The horses, unused to elephants, snorted, rolled their eyes, and tried to bolt. Pyrron's nag did get away and carried the Eleian almost out of sight before he got it under control.

We splashed through the muddy Kephisos and rode across the flat Attic plain, broken by clumps of olive and fig trees, where the wet-harvest was just being reaped. On our right rose the famous long walls from Peiraieus to Athens. They may have been a formidable defense in the days of Themistokles, or even in those of Perikles, but now any able general could breach them with modern siege machinery.

An hour's ride brought us to the Peiraic Gate of Athens. I had ready my royal seal and my letters in case the guardians of the gate tried to deny us entry, but the Scythian archers were too astonished by the elephant even to speak to us.

Pyrron was the only one amongst us who had ever been in Athens before, and his memory of streets was none too good. Twice he led us astray. At last we followed the avenue from the Peiraic Gate until it opened out into the market place with its many fine statues and monuments. This we crossed to a street that runs along the bank of the Eridanos, and so we came to the Gate of Diochares on the eastern side of the city.

Having heard so much about Athens, I must confess to some slight disappointment. True, the Akropolis, rising from its great ship-shaped hill of tawny rock on our right, has as fine a lot of buildings, monuments, and statues as any city in the world. But after the broad, beautiful avenues of Sousa and Babylon, the city of Athens struck me as small and squalid—a jumble of little, crooked, unpaved streets, deep in mud and stinking refuse, winding amid buildings set at all angles. Although the city is of but modest size, traffic is a frightful tangle because of the crookedness of the streets and because no effort is made to control it.

As we left the Gate of Diochares and entered the eastern suburbs, I said to Vardanas and Pyrron: "Lads, the Aristoteles is deemed by many the greatest thinker in the world. I hope he'll befriend us or at least let us listen to his wisdom. Now, if we burst in on him with the elephant and all, he'll be startled and put out of countenance. Therefore, I think we ought to gallop on ahead, give him the king's letter, and warn him of the coming of Aias. Thus he'll have time to compose himself."

Vardanas agreed, but Pyrron said: "You two go ahead. You know me; if I try to gallop, I shall fall off before I've proceeded a furlong."

Vardanas and I rode ahead. Five furlongs from the city, on the Marathon road, we came to Lykeion Park. The Scythian at the entrance made difficulties about letting us in, since we were not citizens, until I showed him my letters and seal.

"Where is Aristoteles' school?" I asked.

"That way, that way, then turn that way," he said with gestures. "You find, easy."

We passed the athletic grounds, where naked youths jumped, ran, and wrestled. The school was a group of small brick houses around a statue of Apollon, with rows of outdoor benches shaded by plane trees. As it was a fine spring day, classes were held out of doors. Two classes were now in session, at opposite ends of the school grounds. Lecturing one group of young Hellenes was a good-looking man in his forties. He was clean-shaven, a fashion just becoming common in Athens. In his hand he held an herb, on which he was discoursing; others lay at his feet.

I dismounted, leaving Vardanas to hold Thunderbolt, and walked towards this man. I almost hailed him when the thought struck me that he was too young to be Aristoteles. I therefore continued on to the other class.

The second lecturer was a slender man of medium height, with a close-cut iron-gray beard and graying hair carefully arranged by the barber to cover his bald spot. He looked about a decade older than the first one, with sharp, severe features and close-set little black eyes. He was wrapped in a billowing cloak of striking saffron and purple hue, and his fingers shone with rings. He spoke Attic with a slight Kalchidian accent, a lisp, and a quick, sharp, emphatic delivery, whilst he paced nervously about a large platform. As I came up, he was saying:

"... problem in organizing a viable state is the avoidance of thithms and theditions. For instance, heterogeneity of stocks may lead to thedition, at least until the component racial elements have had time to athimilate. A viable state cannot be constructed from any chance body of persons, or in any chance period of time, notwithstanding that dreamers and idealists thometimes think ..."

Standing behind the last of the benches, I raised my hand and tried to catch the lecturer's eye. His glance glided over me as if I were not there. His voice went on:

"... states which have admitted perthons of another stock, either at the time of their foundation or later, have been troubled by thedition ..."

I waved my hand, snapped my fingers, and whistled.

"... There are many instances. Thus the Achaians joined with thettlers from Troizen in founding Sybaris, but expelled them when their own numbers increased ..."

"O Aristoteles!" I called. "Aristoteles of Stageira!"

The lecture broke off at last. The lecturer stared coldly at me and said: "Young man, the topic of my discourse may be of no interest to you. This is not surprising, as you have evidently been thubject to foreign influences in your travels. However, this topic is of moment to me and to my hearers. You will therefore oblige me by either taking your theat and remaining quiet until I have finished, or taking yourthelf elsewhere."

His hearers tittered. I could feel myself blushing. I did a military about-face and walked back to where Vardanas held our horses, raging at my loss of dignity.

"I'll pull that self-conceited old cull off his high horse!" I fumed, and vaulted on Thunderbolt's back. "We'll go back to the elephant and make a grand entrance."

We met Aias and the rest of our escort at the gate of the Lykeion and led them back to the school. This time Aristoteles halted his lecture without my having to whistle at him. He stopped in the middle of a long word with his mouth hanging open. A sheet of papyrus fluttered from his hand to the ground.

I dismounted, marched forward between the files of benches to the dais, banged my heels together in Macedonian drill sergeant's fashion, and whipped the king's letter to Aristoteles from under my arm. Holding it out, I cried in parade-ground tones:

"O Aristoteles son of Nikomachos, know that I am Leon of Atrax, troop leader to King Alexander of Macedonia and Asia. The king, my master, in consideration of your services to philosophy, sends you this elephant, late the property of King Poros of India, as a gift. I present the king's letter to you."

I stood rigidly, holding out the letter, for at least a hundred heartbeats. Aristoteles opened and shut his mouth several times silently, like a fish. For a moment he looked as if he would swoon.

At last he pulled himself together and read the letter. By the time he had finished, he had regained his composure. He walked around the elephant, looking Aias up and down.

"O Earth and the gods!" he breathed. "Is this all? The beast and this letter?"

"Not quite," I said. "The man atop the elephant is Kanadas of Paurava, the elephant's master, and the man on his neck is Kanadas' helper, Siladites. There is also a collection of inanimate specimens from India. Let's have the chest, lads."

When Inaudos and Pyrron heaved the chest of specimens out of the cart, Pyrron opened it and showed Aristoteles the specimens. Aristoteles said:

"I feel like the man who cast his line for a herring and caught a whale. It's true I once said thomething to the king about wishing to examine an elephant in the flesh, but—tell me, Hipparch. There's nothing in the letter about feeding and caring for the beast. How am I thupposed to do that?"

"The pay of the Indians is provided for until they can train Hellenes to take their places. As for food, the king has paid that up to now, but he said nought about any provision for it after I delivered the beast to you. I also ought to warn you that Aias is now in his rutting season and hence dangerous. He must be kept securely chained up."

Aristoteles stood with his chin in his hand. Then he said: "Methinks I detect traces of the royal thense of humor. I shall force each of my students to pay for one day's feeding of the beast until thome permanent arrangement is made." He smiled wryly. "I wronged you by snubbing you earlier, young man. You meant to warn me before this —ah—problem dethended on me. Pray do not hold it against me. Who are these other people?"

I presented my dozen. When I came to Pyrron, the clean-shaven assistant cried: "Pyrron of Elis! I've 'eard of you. I'm Theophrastos of Eresos."

Theophrastos was holding hands with a younger man who looked like Aristoteles and who, in fact, turned out to be his son Nikomachos. Theophrastos and Pyrron fell into low conversation about mutual friends in the philosophical profession.

Aristoteles said: "What are your plans now, Leon of Atrax? Back to the wars?"

"Nay. I have one more commission to execute, and then I shall be a civilian again. I hope to hear some philosophy ere I go home."

"You were better advised to listen to me and my colleagues rather than fall into the clutches of an aged charlatan I could name. I hope you'll soon be back; for, frankly, I need your help in disposing of this organism. As things stand I cannot feed it long, and it were thinful to slaughter it after you've conveyed it such a distance. Come back when you've finished your work for the king, and I think we can find ways to therve each other. Incidentally," he said, tapping the king's letter, "this is not the story I heard of the demise of my unfortunate if rashly selfathertive great-nephew. Do you know aught authentic of Kallisthenes' death?"

"Nay, good sir; only what the letter says." And, in sooth, I knew no more from firsthand knowledge; though I, too, had heard rumors that the king had fed Kallisthenes to a lion, or stretched him on a rack, or otherwise put him to an interesting death.

"Farewell for now, then," said Aristoteles. He turned to Kanadas, who had clambered down from his perch. "O Kanadas, do you speak Greek?"

"Little," said the Indian.

"Then see to it that the elephant is thecurely tethered in the park and arrange for its feeding. Dealers in fodder will trust you if you give them my name. Try to prevent the beast from consuming our shade trees. By the way, has the elephant articulations in its legs?"

"What?"

"You know, joints."

"Sorry, do not understand."

"Can it kneel? Like this." Aristoteles knelt. "Oh yes." Kanadas said to the elephant: "Baitbait!" Aias knelt. "Away goes another old wives' tale!" said Aristoteles. "I must make a note of that."

The philosopher stepped back to his dais, picked up the sheet of papyrus he had dropped, and scanned it, holding it at arm's length. "Where were we? Ah yes. Heterogeneity of territory is also an occasion of thedition. This happens in states not naturally adapted to political unity ...

Xenokrates conducted the Platonic school in a park, too, but in a direction opposite from Athens. We rode out the Dipylon Gate on the Sacred Way to Eleusis but soon took a fork to the right and traveled seven furlongs northwest to the Grove of Akademe. Here we found the school of Platon, with benches and a professor and his assistants, as we had in the Lykeion.

The professor, Xenokrates, was a heavy-set old man with an enormous white beard. He was lecturing in a slow sonorous drone on cosmogony. Quoth he:

"... agree with the divine Platon that almighty Zeus created matter in the form of four elements, to wit: fire, earth, air, and water, which are symbolized by the tetrahedron, the cube, the octahedron, and the icosahedron respectively. To those, we moderns add a fifth element, the sublime ether of which the vault of heaven is made. This addition is mine, working on a suggestion by my distinguished predecessor Speusippos. I cannot help it if a certain scrawny sophist on the other side of the city, notorious for claiming to know everything, arrogates this discovery to himself.

"But let us go back to the divine Platon, to see by what sublime train of irrefragable logic he establishes this elemental organization of the cosmos. I quote: If the body of the All had had to come into existence as a plane surface, having no depth, one middle term would have sufficed to bind together both itself and its fellow terms; but—How now, young man?"

I came forward and presented the king's letter, saying: "O Xenokrates, I am Leon of Atrax, an officer of King Alexander. The king sends you this letter, together with the sum of fifty talents. Give him the money, Inaudos."

The Kordian heaved the five fifty-pound bags out of the cart. One after another they fell to the ground with a musical jingle. Xenokrates opened one and pulled out a fistful of staters. His pupils clustered round. One tried to lift a moneybag and grunted in surprise at the weight, for it does not take a large bag to hold fifty pounds of gold.

"Herakles!" said the philosopher. "How much money said you?"

" 'Tis the equivalent of fifty talents of silver," I said.

The old man gave a long whistle and fell silent while he read the king's letter. At last he said: "Let's go inside to discuss this matter."

When we were seated on a bench in his indoor classroom, and the money had been hauled in, too, he said: "With all due respect, O Leon, your king must be—ah—mad. I have done nothing to earn such a sum."

"I know nought of that, Xenokrates. I do but carry out my orders."

"Dear me! What could I do with so much money? I am comfortably off, between my own small patrimony and the fees of my pupils. This vast fortune would, I am sure, only involve me in scandals and swindles. Take it back to Alexander."

"What!" I cried. "Are you daft?"

"Take it back. I want it not."

"But I canna! I was commanded to give you this gold and get receipts. Taking it back would mean setting out on another ten months' journey, through the same toils and perils I thought to have escaped. Furthermore, when I've made delivery and sent off my final report, my commission will end. I shall no longer be a servant of the king."

Xenokrates spread his hands. "I know not what to say. Then keep it yourself, or drop it into Phaleron Bay. It's no concern of mine."

"I dare not. The king has a long reach. Take the money and give it away yourself, if that's how you feel. As Aisopos says, we oft despise that which is most useful to us."

"Not I! If—ah—word got around that I was giving away a fortune, every rogue and sponger in Attika would be on my trail overnight. I should have no peace to think. I might have my throat cut." Xenokrates looked at me sharply. "Are you he who led the elephant ashore at Peiraieus this morning? My slave brought me some such tale, but I didn't believe him."

"Aye."

"What has become of the elephant?"

"As the king commanded, I delivered him to the Aristoteles."

"To that saucy braggart! O Zeus, is there no justice? Why sent the king not the elephant to Xenokrates, and this mass of trash"—he kicked a bag of gold—"to Aristoteles?"

"You must ask the king. But such being the case, surely you'll now take this gold! You would not have the Stageirite get ahead of you, would you?"

Xenokrates stroked his beard. "I will—ah—here is what I'll do. You say there's the equivalent of fifty talents of silver here?"

"Aye."

"And these bags are of equal weight?"

"Aye, or very nearly."

"That is"—Xenokrates closed his eyes while he did sums in his head—"thirty thousand drachmai. Well, I'll take one tenth of that, or three thousand drachmai." He put his head out the door and called to one of his students. "Myronides!"

When the youth came in, Xenokrates said: "Count the gold pieces in one of these bags into two equal piles. Take the rest back to the king, O Leon, and tell him I return it because he has many more folk in his service than I have, and so needs more money to pay them."

"But that leaves me as badly off as before!"

"I'm sorry, my dear young man, but what concern is that of mine? I accept this three thousand only because the school needs new books, and to keep ahead of the needle-nosed quibbler."

I continued the argument while Myronides sorted the staters, but to no avail. At last I said: "How about my receipt? I was told to get three copies."

"Ah—yes, of course." Xenokrates fumbled with his writing supplies. "Dear me, where did I put those sheets? Ah, here we are. I, Xenokrates son of Agathenor, of Kalchedon, hereby acknowledge receipt of the sum of three thousand drachmai, in gold, from Leon of Atrax. Done in the Akademeia in Attika on the fifth day from the end of Thargelion, in the archonship of Chremes."

Vardanas spoke: "Now I know the Hellenes are a mad folk. Most of you can smell a drachma at ten leagues and will tunnel through a mountain with your bare hands to get one. But lo! Here is a man who will not take them when they are honorably offered to him."

When the laugh died down he continued: "O philosopher, my friend here needs a receipt for the whole amount before he will be free of this millstone about his neck. If you want not the money, why not accept it, give him a receipt, and make him a gift of the part you will not keep? He can use it. So, for that matter, could I."

Xenokrates chuckled but tossed his head. "No, that would not be honest. I'll give a receipt only for the money I truly mean to keep. He must make his own arrangements with the king for the rest."

Vardanas' scheme seemed so reasonable that I, too, besought Xenokrates to change his mind, but the old fellow turned mulish. In the end, we rode back to Athens defeated, with Inaudos driving the cart containing gold worth twenty-seven thousand drachmai. Vardanas found my plight amusing.

"Your honesty does you credit, though," he said. "Most of your countrymen would simply hire some guards and a ship and set out for some western land, money and all."

"Basely won gains are the same as losses, but 'tis not wholly a matter of honesty. I've served Alexander many years and know how long he can hold a grudge. Suppose I fled to Syracuse, let's say? If my own guards did not murder me for the treasure, a year or so later some mysterious strangers would arrive in Syracuse. Presently, I should be found with my throat well cut, and what was left of the money would be on its way back to the king."

"Wellaway!" he said. "I suppose I must go back to Sousa some time. I shall be glad to go with you that far on your long road to India."

"Fornicate the long road to India! I'll find a way to get Xenokrates to take this money if I must needs turn Athens upside down!"

Epikerdes, the Thessalian consul, told me: "My own house is full of visiting Thessalians, but I can get you quarters in the house of Syloson of Mylai. My appropriation will cover seven nights' free board and lodging at Syloson's, but after that you'll have to pay him."

"How much does he want?"

"You must ask him, old boy, but I should think three oboloi a day for yourself and your servant would cover it."

"Has he room for anybody else?"

"I think he has. It's a big house in which he rattles around since his children left home. Why?"

" 'Tis my Persian friends here. As they're well born, I am not eager to inflict the bugs and cutpurses of the usual Athenian inn upon them."

The consul pursed his lips. "The Persians have never kept a consul here, but, with Alexander uniting the world, who knows what strange things may not happen? You could ask Syloson, though I warn you he may be horrified by the idea of taking in foreigners."

Syloson, a bony, pock-marked, gray-bearded Thessalian with a missing ear, welcomed me at the door of his house in the Skambonidai.

"Rejoice, O Leon!" he said. His face fell when he saw the Persians behind me. "Who are these?"

"Merely friends, come to see me settled." I presented the pair.

Syloson acknowledged the introduction gruffly and led me to my room. There was some difficulty over Inaudos, who as a free man objected to being put in with the slaves. As I had become fond of the swaggering Kordian, I settled matters by bedding him in my own room, albeit it crowded me.

Meanwhile Vardanas went to work on my host with a skill that has been my lifelong envy. First he said: "O Syloson, proud though I be of my Persian heritage, at such times I am tempted to doff my trousers and pass myself off as a Hellene."

"What mean you?" said Syloson with a suspicious frown.

"Why, to have the benefits of knowing another Thessalian gentleman! In our months on the road, I have found Leon the bravest and truest man of my acquaintance. So I wish to test whether all men of that nation and class are so noble. You at least, if I be judge of character, are not behind him in these virtues."

"Whisht, you oriental flatterer!" said Syloson, trying to hide his pleasure.

"No, I am sincere, as Leon will tell you ..." Soon they were deep in a warm discussion of horse-training methods. Syloson, like all Thessalians above the serf class, was devoted to the cult of the horse.

"But I canna ride the now," he said sadly. "A fall seven years syne hurt my back, so riding gars it ache ..."

By the time I was settled, Vardanas was making his farewells at the front door. "Alas!" he said. "My sister has a horror of bugs, for we are cleanly folk in Sousa. But without a Persian consul to find us rooms, I suppose we are doomed to fight the battle of the blanket at the nearest inn."

"Losh, man," said Syloson. "Why can you no stay here? There's a plenty of room, and I can put the lass in the gynaikeion. 'Twill give my wife a body to talk to."

"Oh, my dear sir, I could not think of imposing on you! After all, we are foreigners, ignorant of your ways and manners ..."

In the end, of course, Vardanas and Nirouphar moved into Syloson's house.

After dinner there came a knock at the front door and a cry of "Boy!" The porter opened to admit Pyrron, Kanadas, Theophrastos, and Nikomachos son of Aristoteles. Pyrron said:

"We're eaten with curiosity to know how you made out with Xenokrates, and we have a problem to talk about."

"You think you have a problem! By the Dog of Egypt, wait till you hear mine! See you that?" I kicked one of the five bags of golden coins and told them of Xenokrates' rejection of nine-tenths of the fortune proffered.

They marveled at the stiffness of principle that would make a man turn down good money. As none could suggest a way to get Xenokrates to take the rest of the gold, I asked:

"What's your problem, lads?"

Theophrastos, sitting with his arm about young Nikomachos, spoke in his Lesbian accent: "It's the polluted elephant. First, one of the stupid athletes teased him. In a rage, 'e pulled up his stake and chased everybody out of the Lykeion before the Indians brought him under control."

"Herakles!" I exclaimed. "Did he kill anybody?"

"No, but it was a near thing. I wonder you didn't 'ear the screams of Aias and his intended victims clear out to the Akademeia."

"I warned he was in rut," growled Kanadas. "Must get bigger stake."

"How did the people escape?" I asked. "Aias can make an amazing speed when he stirs those long legs."

"They ran! Some of the athletes ran faster than they ever 'ad in a race, and you should have seen my colleague Herakleides. 'E's almost too fat to walk, but he fled from the park like a doe from the 'ounds."

I said: "The gods be praised that no worse befell! When I left Aristoteles, he seemed to have things under control. For a man who had just been startled out of his wits, he made a quick recovery."

"That's 'e, 'whose little body lodged a mighty mind,' as says the Poet. 'E likes to cite the tale of Thales, who became tired of being asked: 'If you're so wise, why aren't you rich?' So Thales cornered the olive market, made a fortune, and went back to what really interested him—philosophy.

"'Owever, that doesn't get this monster fed. Your Indian friends collected a day's supply of 'ay, but when we left the Lykeion the beast had eaten most of it and was looking 'ungrily at our shade trees."

"We cannot suffer our park to be eaten up," said Nikomachos. "It belongs to Athens, and they let us use it only so long as we don't harm it."

Vardanas asked: "Are there no wastelands near the park where Aias could be grazed?"

"Yes," said Theophrastos. "Kanadas could drive him out the Brauron Road to the slopes of Mount 'Ymettos. There's lots of well-grassed public land there."

"But that means getting a grazing permit," said Nikomachos, "like any other stock raiser. And later in the year the grass will be so dry and sparse I don't think the beast could live on it."

Kanadas added: "Do not graze him for yet another ten-day. Too dangerous."

"Let's face the issue," said Theophrastos. "Whether we graze the beast at times or not, keeping it will cost money—more than the school can afford. For one thing, we shall 'ave to pay a keeper or two after the Indians go 'ome, or at least buy slaves to do their work. For another, we must needs stable the brute and feed it cut fodder through the winter months."

Vardanas said: "Why not put the elephant in an enclosure and charge the Athenians to look at him, as the sutler did on the ship? Or take them for rides?"

Theophrastos said: "I suggested something of the sort to Aristoteles, but he was 'orrified by such crass commercialism. 'E'd never let such an enterprise be connected with his school."

"Meseems Aristoteles' difficulties are of his own making," I said. "There are many things he can do: graze the elephant, commercialize it, give it away, kill it and sell the meat" (Kanadas scowled blackly at this suggestion), "or write the king begging for money to maintain it. Or he can rent Aias to a bathhouse, to squirt the bathers with his trunk. Till he's tried some of these courses, he has no cause to waul. I'm the one with the problem. I'm fain to quit the polluted army and go about my private business, but I cannot whilst I have this gold in my care."

Pyrron said: "The king surely has a sense of irony, to give the elephant but no money to one philosopher, and money to another who declines to accept it."

"Papai!" I said. "Why could we not get Xenokrates to give the money to Aristoteles for the maintenance of the elephant?"

The others cried out in praise of the proposal, but Theophrastos said: "You don't know our philosophers, Leon."

"What mean you?"

"Those two 'ate each other too much for any sensible compromise."

"Why is this so?"

"It's a long story, old boy, but I'll tell you. Twenty-five years ago they were fast friends, studying in Athens under the divine Platon. Then Platon died. Aristoteles expected, as Platon's most brilliant pupil, to succeed him. Instead, the faculty elected Platon's nephew Speusippos, a man of violent temper and unbridled lusts."

"Why chose they such a wight? They must have known what he was like."

"He had his virtues. He faithfully taught his master's doctrines and had a good practical mind for running the school. Moreover, a few years before, Aristoteles had quarreled with Platon and tried to set up a separate school. The school failed and the two were soon reconciled, but some of Platon's other followers never forgave Aristoteles.

"Disgusted with the ways of Fate, Aristoteles crossed the Aegean to live at Assos in Troyland. Xenokrates went with him and even stayed with him while he 'oneymooned on Lesbos with his first wife. I was with them much of this time, too. Later Aristoteles went to Macedonia to tutor Alexander, while Xenokrates returned to Athens. When Speusippos fell deathly sick, he resigned his post and urged that Xenokrates be chosen in his place.

"Aristoteles was then in Stageira, which he was rebuilding with money from King Philip. 'Earing from me of Speusippos' resignation, he started at once for Athens but found Xenokrates already in command of the school. 'E 'id his disappointment and a few years later removed to Athens to start his own school.

"For a time, 'e and Xenokrates kept on a friendly footing, though some of their followers fanned the growing rivalry between them. Not I; I love everybody. Then—well, Xenokrates is a dear old chap, but he is a bit of a bore, and Aristoteles has a razor-edged tongue and a waspish sense of 'umor. One day Xenokrates cornered Aristoteles in the market place and droned in his ears for hours. At the end he said: 'Oh, I do hope I haven't bored you to death with my chatter!' 'No indeed,' said Aristoteles, as polite as a Persian, 'for I haven't been listening to you.'

"So ended a beautiful friendship. Since then, neither's been able to find anything too bad to say about the other."

I said: "Theophrastos, setting aside the fact that you're Aristoteles' viceroy in the school, and assuming that this pair of proud pedants could be made to agree, what think you of my idea of having Xenokrates pay for the elephant's upkeep with Alexander's gold?"

"Splendid but impractical."

I pondered for a moment. "In confidence, are you so taken with the idea that you'd enter into a little plot to force them to submit to such a plan?"

Theophrastos looked astonished. "Force Aristoteles or Xenokrates? You're a bold man, Leon. They are the most independent-minded men on earth."

"That may be, but necessity knows no law but success. Would you help me in this plot? No harm shall come to either philosopher."

"Let me ask Pyrron. O Pyrron, you know Leon well. What think you of his proposal?"

"He'll do what he says or die trying," said Pyrron. "A stubborn and conscientious chap, kind and well-meaning under that gruff, soldierly bearing."

"All right," said Theophrastos. "'Not vain the weakest, if their force unite.' But 'Erakles 'elp us if your plan go awry!"

"What about you, Nikomachos?" I asked. "Will you too enter a plot against your own father—for his own good, of course?"

"I'll do as my darling Theophrastos tells me," said the youth with a fatuous smile.

I thought my landlord might be impressed by my distinguished guests and so inclined to use me with greater respect. Howsomever, when I cast a casual remark about them, Syloson grumbled: "Na, laddie; 'tis a shame to see a sound young body like you get into the clutches of these sophists."

"They're no sophists; they're philosophers," I said.

" 'Tis all one. They teach sons to defy their fathers, debtors to cheat their creditors, and pious men to doubt their gods. Gin you'd lead ane honest life, keep clear of them."

Two nights later, Aristoteles came to Syloson's house with Nikomachos and Theophrastos and Pyrron and Kanadas. Ignoring Syloson's scowl, I presented Aristoteles to Amyntas of Ichnai, King Alexander's agent in Athens. I had persuaded Amyntas to play his part in my little comedy by offering him a talent's worth of Alexander's gold, provided the scheme went through.

Aristoteles, it soon became plain, had required much urging to come and was in no pleasant mood. "What's this I hear," he said, "of King Alexander's adopting Persian ways, even to dreth and manners?"

I said: "As I understand it, experience showed him that, as king of many nations, he must needs adopt some of their ways. Only thus could he make them love and revere him."

"And after all my teachings! What need of love and reverence from slavish Asiatics?" snapped Aristoteles. "A touch of the whip is all they require. As I have demonstrated in my lectures, they are the slaves of the Hellenes by nature."

Vardanas looked ready to burst with fury, but I motioned him to silence and said: "That may be your opinion. As one who has fought both with and against Persians and other Asiatics for many years, I must say they differ from Hellenes but little in matters of spirit. That is, some are brave and some cowardly, some honest and some dishonest, and so on through all the vices and virtues."

"As I remarked at our first meeting, you've been under foreign influence and so are not a trustworthy witneth."

Now I was about to fly into soldierly curses at this sneering sophist. But Vardanas rose, motioned me to silence, and addressed Aristoteles. He said:

"O Aristoteles, would you meet a mere foreigner like myself in the Sokratic mode of disputation?"

"Thertainly, my dear young man. I will encounter anybody in any kind of dispute."

"Then would you say that a fair definition of justice was: to treat each man according to his deserts?"

"Yes; without committing mythelf, that thounds fair enough."

"Now, have I ever wronged you?"

"Of course not. I've never theen you before, thave the day you arrived with Leon and the elephant."

"Then would it be just for you to whip me?"

"Ah, I see the trend of your reasoning. You hope to trap me by confusing the general with the particular. When I spoke of whipping Asiatics, I spoke generally, as touching on the issue of the Hellenes as a mass against the Persians as a mass. My opinions on this question wouldn't prevent my treating you as an individual with kindneth and generothity, did you prove to deserve them."

"Then why think you that Hellenes in the mass should be so hostile to Persians?"

"Why, there's the long record of aggressions against and oppressions of Hellenes, especially the Ionians, by the Persian Empire."

"But now the Persians are conquered in turn. So that debt is canceled, is it not?"

"It's not a matter of balancing one debt against another," said Aristoteles, "or we should have to go back to the Trojan War. It's a matter of national character, as shown by the long contacts of Hellenes with Persians."

"Such as the execution of your father-in-law?"

"Do you know about that?"

"Yes. Is it?"

"Since you're candid, I might as well be also. Yes, that's one reason I hate Persia and all it stands for."

"Even though Prince Hermeias was intriguing with King Philip for the overthrow of the Persian Empire?"

"By Zeus and all the gods, you are an acute young foreigner! Say rather that the noble Hermeias had striven by such means as were available to him to free Ionia from the Persian yoke."

"As Sokrates would have said, one man's liberation is another man's subversive plot. By the way, Aristoteles, did you ever know Dorymachos of Acharnai?"

Now, this shows the difference between Vardanas and myself. Me-seemed he had a perfect logical opening to tax Aristoteles with confusing, in his turn, the general with the particular, by blaming all Persians for the death of his father-in-law Hermeias. Had I been Aristoteles' opponent, I should have gone for that point hammer and tongs. Vardanas, however, ignored the gap in his foe's defenses to go off on an irrelevant tangent.

"Let's see," said Aristoteles. "Why, yes, I was well acquainted with him, thirty years ago, when we were young men studying under the divine Platon. How in Hera's name do you know about him?"

"He was my teacher! He came wandering through the Persian cities, picking up a living by teaching and lecturing, and so came to Sousa. My mother persuaded my father to hire him to teach my older brother and myself. Why, I owe him all the Hellenism I have!"

Aristoteles got up and grasped Vardanas' wrists, his teeth showing in a grin through his short beard. In a trice the pair were gabbling like old cronies reunited. No more talk of Hellene against foreigner; no more fencing with swords of logic; just a pair of dear friends united by a common acquaintance! I saw then that Vardanas was really cleverer than I in such matters.

This new friendship, however, was interrupted by a bang at the door. In came Xenokrates. He and Aristoteles stiffened at the sight of one another like a pair of hostile dogs. Xenokrates said:

"Rejoice, Aristoteles! I trust you have not lately let the vile passions of jealousy and disappointment swerve you from the search for truth?"

"Jealouthy? Dithappointment?" said Aristoteles. "What have I to be jealouth or dithappointed about? I have created a fine school from nothing, while others, who have inherited splendid schools, have let them run to seed."

"Gentlemen!" I said. " 'Tis late, so let's to our business. It concerns five bags of golden coins ..."

I went over the tale of Alexander's joke on the two professors, letting a fistful of staters rattle through my hands as I did so.

"Now," I said, "I have thought long on this matter and have concluded that drastic action is needed. Certainly we cannot let the king's benevolence and generosity to science be thwarted by petty human motives. If need be, I shall—"

"Good Leon!" cried Amyntas, as he had been coached to do. "Do not carry out your threat! Destroy not the glory of Athens!"

The Macedonian sank to one knee, giving an appearance of terror. Vardanas, Pyrron, and Theophrastos joined in with pleas that I spare the city. The two senior philosophers looked bewildered.

"What can this vulgar young ape accomplish?" said Aristoteles.

Amyntas said: "You little know your peril, O Aristoteles. Have you heard of the Eyes and Ears of the Persian Kings?"

"Thertainly. Do you take me for an ignoramus?"

"Well, Troop Leader Leon is the Eyes and Ears of Alexander. The king, you know, has kept and even strengthened the security organization of the Persian kings. A harsh word in one of Leon's reports to Alexander were enough to snatch me from Athens, haul me off to Babylon in chains, and crucify me."

"Ah!" said Aristoteles, glaring defiantly at me. "When I hang on the croth at Babylon, O Leon, I trust you will be there to observe. It will make it easier, to thee a familiar face."

"I dinna threaten you personally," I said. "Nor Xenokrates. First, let me explain my plan. I have here gold pieces worth twenty-seven thousand drachmai, consigned to Xenokrates, who, however, refuses them. Aristoteles has an elephant that will, to put it gently, prove dear to keep.

"I propose that Xenokrates use this money to set up a fund for the elephant's keep. As so much gold would be unsafe to keep in anybody's house, I propose that the money be deposited with the banking firm of Dareios and Pamphylios. My inquiries show them to be trustworthy, and Aristoteles can draw on this deposit as needed. Then, as even elephants live not forever, you two can agree on some worthy cause on which to spend the balance of the money after Aias departs this life."

"Preposterous!" said Xenokrates.

"Utter rubbish!" said Aristoteles.

"Preposterous rubbish, perhaps," I said. "But hear what will happen if you agree not. I shall inform King Alexander that the schools of Athens are hotbeds of subversive anti-Macedonian agitation and conspiracy. I shall advise him to close down all philosophical schools anywhere in Hellas or in his empire. If you think of removing to Sicily, know that Alexander is on his way back from India. Soon, no doubt, he will gobble up Magna Graecia and Carthage as he has all other nations in his path. So much for philosophy!"

"My dear young man!" cried Xenokrates. "Do be—ah—reasonable!"

"I will not be reasonable! You two have placed me in an absurd and undignified position, and I'll do whatever I must to get out of it.

"Now, gentlemen, if you wish to discuss this proposal in private, yonder's my room. The rest of us will take a pull at this excellent Thasian whilst you settle the future of human thought betwixt you."

Aristoteles said: "A hundred years ago, Thessalian, none would have dared to make such a threat in Athens. You would have been knocked on the head and thrown into the Barathron for conspiring against the right of free Hellenes to freedom of thought. I fear, however, that the Light of Hellas flickered out at Chaironeia. As Sophokles says:

"Come, Xenokrates."

The professors withdrew. The rest of us drank and talked of trivial matters. Soon the two godlike intellects came out. Aristoteles said:

"So be it. Draw up your contracts. The barbarians have vanquished us after all, eh, Xenokrates?"

The signing took place in the Deigma at Peiraieus the following afternoon. The money was counted out and handed over to the bankers. Afterwards, as I walked out into the sunlight from the colonnade with Aristoteles, I noted that his bitterness and sarcasm of the night before had vanished. He said with a wry grin:

"I don't think you could have clone as you threatened, young fellow. At worst, I could have written the king a letter that would have caused you more trouble than you caused us."

"Then why did you agree?"

He lowered his voice. "I thought so ingenious a plot deserved to succeed. Besides, old Xenokrates can't endure forever, and he ought not to carry his feud with me to his grave. And the money will, I confeth, be jolly convenient for keeping Aias in hay and cabbages." He chuckled. "My previous offer still stands. If you'll remain in Athens, answering all my thilly questions about the mysterious East, the school will permit you to attend the thummer term gratis. How say you?"

"Will you include my friend Vardanas? He can answer many questions that I cannot."

"A foreigner in my school? That were unheard of!"

"Doubtless you're right, O best one. I'll send him to the Akademeia instead; there he can perform the same office for Xenokrates that I do for you."

"Wait. On second thought, it were more expedient to bring him to my school. We cannot let foreigners acquire erroneous ideas of Greek thought as a result of dear old Xenokrates' fumbling attempts to elucidate it. Be at the Lykeion at thunrise tomorrow. You have your choice of my lecture on advanced political thience and Theophrastos' lecture on elementary natural history. In the afternoon, Herkleides will talk on the Pythagorean theorem. Bring a tablet for notes, and don't be late. We have no patience with slugabed scholars!"

That night I wrote the king my last report. I gave him a final accounting of his money, enclosed copies of Xenokrates' receipts, and tendered the resignation of Vardanas' and my commissions.

Let me note a curious thing about the two rival philosophers. Despite Aristoteles' patronizing remarks about poor old Xenokrates' short remaining life, Aristoteles died only three years later in exile in Chalkis, while Xenokrates survived eleven years after I met him and reached his eighties.

As even Aristoteles admitted, Xenokrates was a dear old chap and an earnest if humdrum interpreter of the divine Platon. But he was, in my opinion, no very deep or original thinker. He had none of Aristoteles' godlike brilliance and breadth of view of the workings of the universe. It would not surprise me if, a hundred years from now, men still remember the name of Aristoteles of Stageira.

Now began one of the happiest times of my life. Were human memory more trustworthy, I could fill another book with my discussions with Aristoteles. Although I clearly recall the opinions he expressed, after so many years I can no longer separate one discussion from another, let abee set them in proper order with correct dates. So any Aristotelian dialogues I wrote would be like those imaginary speeches historians put into the mouths of the men of yore: true in a higher sense, perhaps, but not literally and exactly true to what had befallen. And I prefer the literal, exact kind of truth, leaving loftier kinds to loftier minds. Forbye, Aristoteles' opinions are clearly set forth in his dialogues, of which most leading scholars and royal libraries have copies.

I soon found, however, that whilst I could follow the philosophers when they spoke of commonplace things like the organs of animals and the politics of states, I soon went in over my head when they talked of logic or mathematics, or explained why Zeus put the earth at the center of the universe with the planets going round it. In fact, I could then make no sense of their talk at all. When I confessed this to Aristoteles, he said:

"Don't distreth yourself about it, Leon. There are people with abstract minds, and people with practical minds, and the unthinking mass with virtually no minds at all. You possess a practical mind, although of course the abstract mind is the noblest kind."

"Your kind of mind, you mean?"

"Thertainly. Shall I demonstrate it by logic?"

"I'll accept your word for it, wise one."

There were tense moments when Aristoteles uttered scornful opinions of foreigners, especially Persians, and Vardanas bristled. But, as Aristoteles came to know the Persian better, these outbursts came fewer and farther between.

I also discovered that I had somewhat to learn about being a gentleman in the Athenian sense. The well-bred Athenian, I found, prides himself on never walking fast and never raising his voice. My years in the field had given me a swift, active stride and voice trained to be heard above the roar of battle. It was to these qualities, I learned, that Aristoteles referred when he called me a vulgar young ape, as well as to my unfortunate lack of beauty. To impress my new colleagues, I tried to slow my step and soften my voice, though I fear with no great success. Mighty is the empire of habit.

Howsomever, my plainness of feature was not extreme enough to keep all the men of Athens at bay. Every few days I had to fend off an amorous proposal from one or another of them.

Shortly after I had begun my courses, Elisas came to bid us farewell. He had obtained a bottomry loan from Dareios and Pamphylios, which he had invested in a cargo of oil to sell in Egypt.

"You see me again in the autumn, if the sea god allow," he said. "I am taking oil to Egypt and fetching back Egyptian wheat, fancy furniture, ornaments, and jewelry."

Then, about the middle of Skirophorion, Pyrron said: "Dear friends, I must be off for home tomorrow. My sister is frantic to see me, and I must organize my classes."

We were sitting on the steps of the little temple of Athena Nike on the Akropolis, watching the sunset. I was happy to see that Nirouphar, who was with us, took Pyrron's utterance with perfect calm.

Vardanas had told me the poor lass was having a dull time in Athens. Aristoteles would not hear of admitting a woman to his classes, so she had to spend most of her time with Syloson's elderly wife, listening to her foolish chatter and helping her spin and weave. This was hard on Nirouphar, because free Persian women deem it a disgrace to make cloth, and it took all Vardanas' powers of persuasion to get her to submit to Hellenic ways in this regard. And the Athenians clap up their women so closely that she had no chance to meet other maids of her own age and class.

Theophrastos said: "You must see Diogenes on your way through Corinth, Pyrron."

"Is he still alive?"

"Yes, though perhaps not for long."

"Did his owner ever free him?"

"No. Xeniades offered to emancipate him long ago, but he refused. 'E said he was too old for travel, so he preferred to eat Xeniades' food and lord it over his 'ousehold for the rest of his days."

Pyrron said: "I heard you finding excuses for slavery the other day, Aristoteles. Surely the enslavement of Diogenes refutes all your claims as to the justice of the institution!"

"If you'd attended closely, my dear Pyrron," said Aristoteles, "you would have heard that I carefully qualified my approval. I pointed out that, whilst thome like Vardanas' stupid Scythian are natural-born slaves, the folk who are actually enslaved are often chosen more by luck than by merit."

Pyrron rejoined: "Then the only way to terminate this injustice is to abolish slavery. If you had ever experienced enslavement yourself, as did Platon and Diogenes, you would openly confess that I'm right."

"And stir up all Athens against him as a dangerous revolutionary?" said Theophrastos with a chuckle. " 'E's not so simple."

"Viper!" said Aristoteles. "As if I had ever trimmed my opinions to the prejudices of the unthinking mob! Theriously, though, while dreamers may prate of a classless society, we have to make do with the societies we actually possess. As things stand, civilization would collapse without slavery."

"Why?" said Pyrron. "One can always hire free men to do the work."

"But not so cheaply. And think what would happen if, for example, the slaves of Athens were all liberated simultaneously! The majority are foreign adult males: cowardly Egyptians, grasping Syrians, dull Anatolians, milk-drinking Scythians, and bloodthirsty blue-eyed Celts. Free these creatures, and overnight they'd have the rings cut from their phalli to enjoy the pleasures of love. Next they'd demand the right to espouse Athenian women, and they'd be too many and too strong to be easily gainsaid. Before they finished, they'd force the Athenians to admit them to citizenship. Our Greek blood would be mongrelized, and our thuperior culture would perish with our racial purity."

"Don't be sure they'd stay," said Pyrron. "I'll wager that most, given a choice, would go haring back to their homelands like bullets from a sling."

"How would one prove that athertion?"

"I suppose one could inquire of the slaves."

"That were impractical, on two counts," said Aristoteles. "First, everyone knows that a slave can be counted upon to tell the truth only under torture. Second, if anybody, given a free choice, really preferred some barbarous foreign land to Athens as a place to dwell, he would thereby prove himself an inferior, whom it were natural and right for Hellenes to enslave."

"All I can say is," said Pyrron, "that you should try enslavement yourself before you talk so glibly of its being right and natural. Experience often changes the point of view, and for a group of slaveholders to talk solemnly of justice is like a congress of rabbits discussing lion hunting."

"I will concede it's a difficult question," said Aristoteles. "But, practically speaking, men will never succeed in abolishing slavery, unjust though it be at times, until they invent machines to perform the labor of the slaves."

"Why don't you invent such a machine?" said Pyrron. "If anybody could, you could."

"I?" said Aristoteles. "Tinker with mechanical devices? After all, old boy, I am a gentleman!"

"Well, that leaves the situation hopeless," said Pyrron. "For, whilst I'm not too proud to use my hands, I cannot drive a nail without mashing my thumb. Perhaps the remedy for slavery lies in the other direction: establishing ideal communities like those proposed by the divine Platon, where all shall be free and equal."

"Platon was not so egalitarian as all that," said Aristoteles, "and I shall believe that thuch schemes are practicable when I see one in operation."

Theophrastos said: "Do you remember that son of the Macedonian regent who studied with us last year? 'E had some such plan in mind."

"Yes," said Aristoteles. "Alexarchos Antipatrou was determined to establish, with funds from the Macedonian treasury, a complete Platonic community, with communistic ownership of property. He even had a scheme for an artificial international language."

"What said you to that?" I asked.

"I advised him to proceed, but to omit communism of women and children."

"Why?" said Vardanas. "It sounds exciting."

"Perhaps," said Aristoteles, "but there was a fatal objection to it. Under such an arrangement, nobody would know his own father. Hence men, in their homothexual love affairs, might unwittingly have intercourse with their own sons or brothers. And that, I told Alexarchos, would be a shocking indecency!"

The next one of our little band to depart was Kanadas. When the tall Indian came to settle some small money matters with me, he said: "Leon, you must do something about Siladites!"

"Do what about him?"

"He says he will not come back to India! He lives in sin with Egyptian woman. He says he will become a registered foreigner, stay in Athens, never obey caste rules any more."

"What of it?"

"That is wicked! He must stop sinful life, go back home, take up caste duties! Otherwise the gods degrade him further in next life."

"Look here, laddie, Siladites works for Aristoteles the now, not for me or for King Alexander. So what he does is his own affair."

"Oh, you are just another immoral Hellene!" he snorted, and stormed out. Next day, however, he bade us a courteous farewell, placing his palms together and bowing over them.

"Ship sails for Sidon tomorrow," he said. "There I buy horses, ride back to India."

"Can you manage alone?" I asked. "Shouldn't you buy a slave or hire a traveling merchant like Elisas as your guide?"

"Me, throw away good money? Anyhow, I do not approve of slavery. Do not worry about me. I am a seasoned traveler now. Wait till I tell friends in Paurava of adventures. Those poor clods would fear to cross the sea in ship!"

I thought it tactful not to mention the fuss Kanadas had made about his first sea voyage. He swaggered off, the huge sword hanging down his back, on his way to Peiraieus. Though not an easy man to know, he was brave and honest and true in his own dour way. I hope he made it home.

Thus Siladites became Aristoteles' head elephant keeper. His Greek, though still frightful, was good enough to order around his helper, a trembling Nubian slave whom Aristoteles bought with money from the king's fund. Without Kanadas to keep him in the narrow path of caste rules, Siladites blossomed into a man of some character and consequence. In later years, though his Greek remained foul, he became chief elephantarch to Antipatros and his son Kassandros when they ruled Macedonia.

As the year of Antikles' archonship began and the heat of summer came on, my Persian friends suffered in the warm woolen coats and trousers they had brought from Sousa the previous winter. They found that, whilst they could buy thin stuffs for summer suits, nobody in Athens could do the elaborate tailoring needed to make garments of the Persian style.

I therefore persuaded Nirouphar to try on a Greek woman's chiton. When she walked out from Syloson's gynaikeion, Vardanas gave a shriek. "Cover yourself, hussy!" he cried.

"Oh, hush your shouting!" said Nirouphar. "Anybody would think you my maiden aunt!"

Syloson's wife had given Nirouphar a Dorian chiton, open on the right side from the shoulder down. I found the sight of my loved one's bare flank charming, but Persian modesty won out.

"Now," said I, when Nirouphar had been pinned together, "our next step, buckie, is to get you out of those flapping trousers."

Vardanas said: "Oh no! Not for me to walk the streets waving my private parts in the breeze as you do!"

"You are an old fuss-budget like Father," said Nirouphar. "Rheon —I mean Leon—has sense. In trouser country he wears trousers, and in this bare-breeked land he goes without. Whom fear you to shock? Having seen Athenians strolling about their town stert-naked, I am no longer surprised by such things."

"You do not understand these things," said Vardanas. "It is a matter of honor with me to protect your purity and innocence."

"Rubbish!" said Nirouphar. "Either you try Greek garb, or I will forth without these safety pins."

"Mithras, do not do that!" he cried. At last we got him into one of my shirts, a little short for him but perfectly proper. But, at the next lecture, he stood through the whole session, explaining afterwards: "I dared not sit for fear of indecent exposure."

What with the lectures to hear and the beautiful monuments of Athens to see, I felt I needed only to be joined to Nirouphar for my happiness to be complete. I hinted as much to Vardanas, hoping that time and his sister's growing regard for me would dispose him more kindly to such a marriage. But Vardanas looked squarely at me and said:

"Dear Leon, betimes you have twitted me for acting impulsively and without enough forethought."

"So I have. But what has that to do—"

"A moment, please. I shall demonstrate by irrefragable logic, as Aristoteles would say, that you are now so acting yourself."

"How so?"

"First, passing by the question of racial purity, it is your Greek custom for the parents of a bride to give the couple a sum of money and property called a dowry. In Persia the girls do not have dowries. Instead, the groom, or his parents, give the dowry. To put it crudely, Hellenes buy husbands; Persians buy wives. Would you wed a Persian woman under those conditions?"

"This is no matter of vulgar money," I said, though not so forcefully as I might have. I confess that this news had shaken me.

"Hear the rich young lordling! Which brings up a second point: to wit, what would your parents say about such a match? Unless you are minded to defy them—a course on the imprudence of which, if I remember aright, you once lectured me." Vardanas smiled a little grimly.

This silenced me, for I had not thought about the matter at all. Or, to be truthful, I had thought about it but quickly pushed the thought to the back of my mind because of the discomfort it caused me. I knew my parents would make an uproar when they heard of the proposal, and I was not prepared to defy them. Despite the usual petty squabbles that occur in most families, we were a close-knit group who dearly loved one another. Moreover, there were property rights involved, which a serious quarrel would jeopardize.

"Thirdly," continued the Persian implacably, "I know something of your Greek customs: how a man wed to a poor woman, given a chance to marry one with a large marriage portion, thinks nothing whatever of divorcing the first wife to take the second. I would not have my sister so used."

"That's Athens, not Thessalia," said I feebly.

"It is the general opinion in Hellas, north and south, east and west, that to marry for love, rather than for property and posterity, is foolish and uncivilized conduct. If you insist, I will get Aristoteles to testify to this effect. And fourthly, what says your law about marriage to foreigners?"

"I know not," I said miserably. "I never thought of such a thing ere I left home, and of course there was nobody to ask about such matters in Persia and India."

"Well, the other day Aristoteles was talking about the methods that Greek states use to preserve their—what is that long word he uses?— their homogeneity, thus to keep down schisms and seditions. One method is to forbid marriages between citizens and strangers. If an Athenian wed an alien and live here, the alien shall be sold into slavery. Now, I do not know what the rules are in Thessalia, but the matter were worth looking into ere you do aught rash."

Crushed, I gave up for the time being and pined after Nirouphar more desperately than ever from afar. When my lusts became intolerable I sought relief in the brothel, pretending it was Nirouphar I rode.

I was cheered by another letter, reading as follows:

eumenes of kardia wishes leon aristou well

King Alexander asks me to convey to you his unstinted praise and admiration for the glorious feat you have accomplished, and to request you to pass on to your lieutenant, Vardanas of Sousa, his thanks for the loyal support that Vardanas has afforded you in this enterprise.

The king notes with regret that you and Vardanas have tendered your resignations from the armies of Macedonia and Asia. He has instructed me to enter your names in the roll of honorably discharged soldiers with ranks one grade higher than those you last had: Leon of Atrax to be squadron leader, and Vardanas of Sousa to be troop leader. If ever you or Vardanas decide to re-enlist, those ranks shall be yours for the asking.

We are at the mouth of the Indus, preparing for an overland march westward along the shores of the Ocean. Rumor says that the march will be through difficult deserts; hut, with Alexander to lead them, there is nothing our soldiers cannot do.