Creation by Gore Vidal Page B

to my father poor. But then, she dislikes the strict conventions of our traditional art. As a child, she used to watch Polygnotus at work in his studio at Abdera. She likes the realistic Greek style. I don’t.
    The palace at Susa is built around three courtyards on an east-west axis. Before the main gate the king’s eye turned us over to the commander of the palace guard, who escorted us into the first courtyard. To one’s right is a portico of tall wooden columns on stone bases. Beneath the portico a row of royal guardsmen—known as the immortals—saluted us.
    We passed through high corridors into the second courtyard. This one is even more impressive than the first. Young as I was, I was relieved to see the sun symbol of the Wise Lord guarded by sphinxes.
    Finally we entered the so-called private court, where Hystaspes was greeted by the palace chamberlain and by the principal clerks of the chancellery who do the actual work of governing the empire. All chamberlains and most clerks are eunuchs. While the old chamberlain—Bagopates, I think it was—greeted Hystaspes, a number of aged Magians extended bowls of smoking incense toward us. As they chanted their incomprehensible prayers they stared at me closely. They knew who I was. They were not friendly.
    When the ceremonies were ended, Hystaspes kissed me on the lips. “As long as I live, I shall be your protector, Cyrus, son of Pohuraspes, son of Zoroaster.” Hystaspes then turned to the chamberlain, who cringed dutifully. “I commend this youth to you.” I tried not to weep when Hystaspes left.
    A minor functionary escorted my mother and me to our quarters in the harem, which is a small city within the large city of the palace. He showed us into a small empty room that looked onto a chicken yard.
    “Your quarters, Lady.” The eunuch smirked.
    “I had expected a house.” Lais was furious.
    “In due course, Lady. Meanwhile Queen Atossa hopes that you and the child will be happy here. Whatever you want, you need only command.”
    This was my first acquaintance with the style of a court. One is promised everything; then given nothing. No matter how often Lais commanded, pleaded, begged, we were kept confined to that small room which looked onto a dusty courtyard containing a dry fountain and a dozen chickens that belonged to one of Queen Atossa’s ladies-in-waiting. Although the noise of the chickens annoyed my mother, I quite liked them. For one thing, I had no other company. Democritus tells me that chickens are now being imported to Athens. They are called—what else?—Persian fowl!
    Despite Hystaspes’ official protection, Lais and I were kept prisoner for almost a year. We were never received by the Great King, whose various arrivals and departures were accompanied by a tumultuous sound of drums and tambourines that caused the chickens to run about the yard most comically—that caused my mother’s face to set most tragically. Worse, when summer came we did not follow the court to Ecbatana. I have never been so hot.
    We saw none of the wives except for Artystone, full sister to Queen Atossa—and so a daughter of Cyrus the Great. Apparently she was curious about us. One afternoon she appeared in our courtyard. I must say that she proved to be every bit as beautiful as people had said she was. This came as a surprise to Lais, who has always taken the view that whatever a famous personage is noted for tends to be the one thing that he notoriously lacks. For a witch, everything is illusion. Perhaps they are right. I do think that it was something of an illusion that Artystone was the only woman whom Darius had ever loved. Actually, he loved nothing on earth except earth itself; that is, he loved his dominion over all the lands. Xerxes was the opposite. He loved too many people; and so lost dominion over earth, over all the lands.
    Artystone was accompanied by two handsome Greek eunuchs not much older than I. They had been sold to the harem by an infamous