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Updated: June 1, 2025
His words came so thick, the rest could never follow all his curses and commands. Only Mardonius was bold enough to stand up before his face. “Your Eternity, this is an unlucky day. Is it not sacred to Angra-Mainyu the Evil? The arch-Magian says the holy fire gives forth sparks of ill-omen. Wait, then, till to-morrow. Verethraghna, the Angel of Victory, will then return to your servants.”
“None, your Eternity; even the handful that live are desperately wounded. We have laid them yonder.” “Let them wait, then; all around here seem dead. Ugly hounds!” muttered the monarch, still peering down; “even in death they seem to grit their teeth and defy me. Faugh! The stench is already terrible. It is just as well they are dead. Angra-Mainyu surely possessed them to fight so!
As the curtains closed behind them, the curious saw that the features of the beautiful page by the general’s side were contracted with disgust. Mardonius himself spat violently. “Dogs, and sons of dogs, let Angra-Mainyu wither them forever. Bear witness, men of Persia, how, for the sake of our Lord the King, I hold converse even with these vilest of the vile!” Soon the council was broken up.
Mardonius had come to them where under the pomegranate tree the women spread their green tapestry which their nimble needles covered with a battle scene in scarlet. The Prince told of the capture and crucifixion of the chiefs of a futile revolt in Armenia. Then Artazostra clapped her hands to cry. “Fools! Fools whom Angra-Mainyu the Evil smites blind that he may destroy them!”
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