An Arrow of Atossa

By Alia Radha

When Princess Atossa’s father, Cyrus the Great of Persia, dies suddenly, both her brothers want to follow him as King of Kings. Should she support the ruthless cleverness of the more competent Bardiya or the rash honesty of her father’s choice, Cambyses? Why are the gods taking an interest in her now? She dare not let them control her but she dare not offend them. And as she makes her choice, navigating politics and honor just get harder, what price will she have to pay to support her choices?

In 530 B.C. the Kingdom of the Meads and the Persians is the greatest Empire in the world. But that doesn’t mean the royal family is safe. King Cyrus usurped the throne from his grandfather, and many empires have risen and fallen in the Fertile Crescent before. It was a time of ancient powers and new legions being made.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mountain Lewis Press
• Release date: Jun 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9780996496506

Book preview

Cast of Characters

Anahita, goddess of water and fertility

Arishat, god of honesty

Artystone, Princess, youngest royal daughter of Cyrus, born of Cassadane

Astyages, King of the Meads, grandfather of Cyrus, deceased

Atossa, Princess, oldest royal daughter of Cyrus, born of Cassadane

Bardiya, Prince, oldest royal son of Cyrus, born of his first wife

Bittye, Cyrus’s old nurse

Cambyses, Prince, youngest royal son of Cyrus, born of Cassadane

Cassadane, Queen, primary wife of Cyrus

Cyrus, King of Kings of the Persian Empire

Darius, Prince, oldest son of Hystaspes

Eafestas, General, a foreign mercenary, in Cyrus’s service for many years

Gobyas, Governor of Babylon, Chaldean

Hegai, eunuch, a guard of the queen’s harem

Hekel, a Magus

Hystaspes, Prince, a distant cousin of Cyrus and one of his chief councilor

Ista, a concubine to King Cyrus

Jaihohim, common son of Cyrus, born to Ista

Kathya, a concubine to King Cyrus

Lanns, Captain, chief of Queen Cassadane’s eunuchs

Lystia, Princess, wife of Bardiya, daughter of Otanes

Mandane, a young Median noblewoman living at court, daughter of Mitraspes

Mart, a senior servant in the queen's household

Mitraspes, a Median nobleman, father of Mandane

Otanes, councilor, father to Lystia, brother of Cassadane

Parmys, Princess, oldest royal daughter of Bardiya

Prexaspes, a councilor

Roxane, Princess, royal daughter of Cyrus, born of his first wife.

Zester, a Magus

Prologue

The four men struggled to carry the body level. The man had been large and very muscular, despite his graying beard and all the fancy silk clothing that still looked luxurious even after having endured the battle. His armor also clinked solidly of strong metal despite its gilding. The head looked the most disheveled, especially with the wound in the neck making it hang awkwardly. The gold hat he had had was missing. The queen thought the enemy must have taken it with them in retreat.

He was a worthy opponent on the field. The queen had given the ceremonial sword she had held, with its gleaming sharp edge unsheathed throughout the battle, to her steward. Now he held it to the side and stood pressed close behind her so that she might lean against him without appearing to seek support.

There was a murmur of agreement among the councilors and those who had brought the body of the great foreign king to lie at her feet.

Indeed it was no dishonor that your son fell before him. He should be buried with honor in his own treasure mound. Your son will be remembered not only for his own glory but for the glory of his foe. The old priestess faced the queen, but her eyes seemed drawn to freshly turned earth were the fallen prince's mound had not yet been covered in stone.

No, I met him at the parley before the first battle. He was the type of man who would have had many friends. Let us send him to his home and allow them to bury him there. Who it was that defeated my son will not be forgotten. The bards will sing this tale without any need of a mound for a foreign king. The queen's eyes stayed on the fallen warrior before her, not flickering once to her son's grave.

The priestess's wrinkled lips compressed further, Your majesty, he and his army were months on the road here. To send a body all that way, the priestess's nose tried to wrinkle upwards, it would be unseemly.

The queen took a couple steps as if to pace. Then pulled herself to a stop and imposed stillness and dignity as she drew herself up. Let us have an oracle concerning this.

The priestess gasped. You did not have any oracle before the battle, you commanded that no one was allowed one concerning it.

Battles are affairs of men's will. It is better not to tempt the gods to interfere, but burials are sacred matters. Let us consult the gods. The queen held the priestess’s gaze until she nodded.

* * *

There was a rustle of leather as the priestess finished her ritual preparation and the warriors gathered around to watch the oracle. The priestess stared at the queen across the fire. Ask, and let the fire scorch time.

The queen spread her fingers and let them pass through the top flickers of the flame as she spoke. How is this man’s body to be properly returned to his people?

The priestess grimaced a second and then thrust her hand in to replace the queens. Her eyes unfocused and her body went totally still.

"Spirits pass and bodies remain,

Wine passes, and its spirit is stayed,

Two remnants together, legends stain."

The priestess snatched her hand back as her eyes refocused. She shook her hand out and looked questioningly at the queen.

The queen nodded her satisfaction. Our funeral gift will be fittingly rich: an entire barrel of distilled spirits. Let the body be placed in it and let Cyrus, King of Persia, be returned to his people.

Chapter 1

Atossa looked, not to the east where her beloved father, King Cyrus, had gone, but towards the south and the road up which any royal messenger from him would come. Her dense, crinkly curls were freshly oiled but the ribbons that would confine them neatly hung limply in her hand. Sheltered from the prevailing breezes, the room was hot and bright.

In fact Atossa had maneuvered to get this small bedchamber because of its view. Susa was on a little hillock surrounded by a fertile plane. But, while the old Elamite palace the Persians had taken over was on the highest ground, it wasn’t really built for defense. It was only on this windless corner that Atossa could see over the city wall to catch an early glimpse of the longed for messages.

Roxane swirled into the room, Guess what! The new delegation from Carthage will be here in three days! Maybe there will be a handsome young prince come to court one of us. Roxane’s black hair was highlighted by the contrast of her light tan skin. Atossa thought her own dark brown hair was not flattered by the fact her own skin was a medium brown even if she stayed out of the sun.

That would be pretty brash of them. Our father is not only King of Persia but also King of Kings of all the Aryans, and many other people besides. Carthage hardly has real princes. Maybe they’d think the only way they could get a hearing would be to come when Father isn't here. Atossa turned fully from the window and focused on her sister. I don't think they will have sent anyone. They must know it would be too insulting, even if Father were here. They wouldn't be considered, and they'd just generate lots of bad feeling.

I wouldn't be insulted. Roxane's ringlets bounced. I think it would be neat to have all the princes from all the different places coming to court me. I don't say we should accept anyone from Carthage, but I don't see why we should be insulted.

If they came when Father was here, it might be something formal and a courtesy, even though they’d know they wouldn't be accepted. But coming when Father’s away, it's an insult. They know that.

It was true that at seventeen, Atossa and Roxane’s age, most girls were married or at least promised, but a royal marriage required more care and consideration.

Anyway, said Atossa, they won't be accepted even in these circumstances, but it's an enticement to Cambyses and the council to make some mistake, to either refuse them too rudely or, more seriously, to actually entertain the offer and give them extra credibility by granting them the status of somebody who would actually be considered.

I'm certain Cambyses knows more about it than you do; he wouldn't be offended by somebody coming to court us. Roxane sounded almost childish.

Atossa knew that at least Roxane was being responsible enough to want to get married, but thought as a princess she should be more dignified about the process. I’m certain he'd handle it, and I'm certain he'll be insulted.

He'll be insulted by you saying he can't handle it when Father isn’t here and ...

I'm not saying he can't handle it when Father's not here, I'm saying he’ll be insulted they even tried. Which I'm sure they didn't, anyway. They wouldn't be so foolish.

Well, I’m going to tell Artystone about it. Roxane flounced out of the room.

No..., Atossa considered chasing her but then decided to finish doing up her hair first. She was tired of being the only one who tried to keep her sister out of trouble. Roxane’s midnight black corkscrew curls looked beautiful whatever she did with them. But Atossa needed to arrange her hair into an elegant piece of art.

* * *

Atossa looked over the room full of looms, not seeing her mother at first. She wished her father were here to tell about this. No, it would still be a matter to take to the queen. But Atossa still wanted her father home. Then Atossa heard the strong, familiar voice from the alcove over her shoulder.

I'm not saying it's not a great color or even that it wouldn't last. But we can't be sure yet. We don't know this dye or this dyer. I don't want to invest weeks of my women's work on cloth and find in six months that the dye is fading. The royal treasury only stocks fabrics that are superior examples of their type, and I maintain that reputation by... Queen Cassadane looked up when she heard footsteps approaching, then smiled as she recognized her daughter. You may join us Princess Atossa. She nodded as Atossa dipped in obedience before her.

Princess, will it please you to look at this thread and how it is dyed? The merchant came each year on a trade route from the Sind.

It seems truly black, not dark brown at all but it still reflects the light. Atossa picked up the spool to turn it in the light. You're getting this with wool? Atossa fingered the thread in surprise.

Atossa’s father didn’t wear blacks, at least in his royal robes. He probably wore dark colors for practicality on campaign. Maybe a shiny black would give him the feeling of the joys of campaign staying with him at home.

It's part of the process, we start with wool that comes from very dark sheep. Then we use the dye of the most concentrated and rare indigo along with certain secret mystical ingredients. The merchant smiled encouragingly.

That would certainly make it expensive enough to be in royal fabrics. Atossa raised her brow slightly but continued to turn the thread in the light, enjoying its feel.

The merchant smiled even more Of course, any royal court would want to have the finest...

Of course the queen has pointed out that this is an untested dye. And it even has unknown ingredients. Atossa overrode defiantly. She also enjoyed the feeling of being part of her mother’s bargaining.

So she turned to her mother. There are a couple of the concubine's daughters that are about the right age to start weaving. No one counts the training pieces against the reputation of your court.

Training pieces? the merchant made a show of being taken aback. This is a dye for the cloaks of kings and the tapestries of throne rooms, not showcasing childish errors.

But if there is any difficulty in working with the thread we will certainly find out that way. Atossa gave the merchant a smile. In fact I think one of the girls has a baby brother that we can give the results to for an even more thorough testing.

My poor thread, the merchant reclaimed the spool but continued to turn it in the light, to have its rare beauty so abused.

But by next year we will certainly be more confident in the thread, unless you doubt it passing the test? Cassadane questioned the merchant coldly but gave an approving twitch of her lips to her daughter.

No Great Queen. The merchant bowed low.

You may tell the steward that he has permission to buy a small quantity of the thread as long as the price is not unreasonable. Queen Cassadane turned to Atossa as the merchant backed away bowing. Is everything going well with your tasks? We have adequate provisions for the court?

Yes, My Queen.

But I have a feeling you have nonetheless sought me out. Come walk on the terrace with me.

When they were away from prying ears, walking between rows of herbs and various kinds of vegetables. Atossa began, Mother, ... Roxane, ... well I wouldn't want her helping me with the provisions ... she always felt tentative in bringing up her middle sister with the queen, she would have preferred to ask her father.

It would perhaps not improve efficiency.

But I can’t say she shouldn't be taking an interest in royal responsibilities ...

But one might be surprised. The queen's dismissive murmur was expected but at least she didn’t sound hostile.

But I don’t think that concerning herself with how Cambyses should handle courtship offers that haven’t been, and aren't likely to be, made and that we would refuse anyway, is quite the place to start. There had been a time when Atossa was jealous that the queen didn’t seem to demand as much of Roxane. But now Atossa treasured that way her mother had of showing affection and wished her sister could share it.

The connection to her being courted does explain the phenomenon. The queen paused to consider. If you are going to raise the issue of proper concerns, there is also the issue of the propriety of you concerning yourself in your half-sister's interests.

At the words half-sister, Atossa's hesitancy vanished. She is my legitimate sister, fully as much a princess of Persia as I am.

As Bardiya is your brother?

Yes. Atossa met her mother's eyes levelly.

The queen turned and continued walking. Well, if you don't want Cambyses to have to deal with it, then the proper person is your half, the queen’s emphasis on the word was hard and cold, brother. He has displayed a keen and sober interest in the affairs of the kingdom, and I'm sure he wouldn't want his sister to be an embarrassment.

When Atossa just nodded, the queen continued, Bardiya should be in the steward's office settling accounts this morning. You might wait for him. And while you're there you can have the steward go over the provision accounts with you.

Atossa felt exasperation coloring her voice. You don't go over the accounts for your court with the steward.

I've had dozens of years of practice, when there are consistently no errors found, then we will consider letting you review them by yourself. The queen smiled, Now go, you wouldn't want to miss your brother. The unadorned last word was a soft relenting.

* * *

... So you see, I don’t want her making strange assumptions in public just because she’s got courtship on her mind. Atossa finished her summary of the conversation with Roxane, glaring at blank clay tablets stacked against a wall.

Roxane does get some outrageous ideas, doesn't she? Bardiya laughed softly. Nobody would take her seriously. They'd just laugh and send her back to play with dolls. Being silly just encourages people to ignore her words and focus on how cute she is. He was sitting in the only chair in the small clerk’s office he had commandeered for this meeting. It wasn’t a throne but sometimes talking to Bardiya could be a little like talking to her father and she wanted to capture that feeling.

She's not some concubine's daughter. She's an Achaemenid. I don't want people thinking they can just dismiss any Achaemenid. And her father is Cyrus, the great King of Kings. Atossa shifted and wished there was room to pace. She had always admired Bardiya's intelligence and wanted his approval for her concern.

Bardiya began poking at the wet clay scraps the ejected clerk had left behind. The delegation is all men, and my little brother Cambyses is totally impressed with his own hunting prowess. So he'll be wearing them out for a couple of days with that, and then they will want to get informal feeling out done under the guise of resting. There won't be any court banquets or the like for almost a week. I'm sure Roxane will have moderated her enthusiasm by then.

Atossa ceased examining the cramped room and turned her glare on Bardiya, Cambyses likes hunting as many young men do. He has the high level of skill expected of an Aryan prince. There's nothing wrong with his interest in hunting. Cambyses was fifteen, when someone could first be considered adult, it was often celebrated as the age of perfection but also often conceded in practices that some of the foolishness of youth lingered.

Yep, if you're looking for your typical Aryan prince, our Cambyses is the youth for you. Bardiya cast his eyes up in exasperation and then looked back at Atossa Oh I'm just joking. We have to be formal so much of the time. When we’re alone together, shouldn't we take the chance to be a little irreverent?

Atossa shrugged, Roxane?

Don't worry about it. I don't have the time to chase after her right now, but if we don't make a big deal of anything she says no one else will either. She'll get over this phase all the faster if she doesn't get extra attention for it.

Bardiya sounded reasonable but Atossa still felt like she was being dismissed, Well I wish she would. It's so ... I just can't see how this will get her anything she wants.

Not everyone learns cunning as quickly as you, My Little Princess. One of you needs to be a girl yet.

Atossa sighed, We'd better let the poor clerk get back to recording the tax receipts before he gets too far behind.

Don’t you want to be courted little sister?

Atossa let out a little huff of breath, Ideally I’d like my children to be Aryans and certainly not merchants on the sea coast way out west.

Are you attached to our ways then? Don’t you admire the ways of the ancient cities? Bardiya was always interested in trying to figure out the ideas of the ancient city builders.

We do rule them now, not the other way around. It wasn’t that Atossa didn’t think such ideas were interesting but she didn’t often find them of immediate concern.

Well what was the point of conquering them if not to be able to enjoy the culture they provide?

Atossa struggled for words, Maybe we can enjoy their fruits while we bring the Truth and not having anything to do with the Lie.

Bardiya grinned with the light of battle in his eye, Oh, and do we bring them the worship of our gods? Or perhaps the confusing debates about Zoroaster’s prophecies?

That's not the point. It’s that we don’t lie and that under us the Lie won't corrupt the rule and commerce of the cities.

Bardiya seemed to ignore her, So what about petitioning the priest for prophecies and the gods’ will? Or do you prefer relying on the spells of the magi?

Why does that matter?

These are matters which impact ruling, and that’s what we do, right?

Atossa felt her interest in the conversation kindle, What do you mean? I know we can’t offend the gods, but how does that help?

It’s not just we who have to avoid offending the gods. If we keep that in mind we can use it to shape how lesser kings and their peoples act.

But doesn’t that make it more likely that we’ll get tangled up in prophecies and such? Mother always says you should avoid prophecies that might chain you to a result.

"Your mother says that."

She does have a lot of wisdom, you can’t deny that.

Well it can be a problem. But the spells of the magi are cleaner. Their wisdom lets them know what price you are paying for the power.

Aren’t they even more interested in prophecy? Don’t they have whole books of it?

They’re using the books and the stars to try and figure out what already is and what is already decided. They aren’t asking for new prophecies that might constrain events further.

Atossa shrugged. But have you found an occasion where that’s useful?

I’m still looking at a possibility. I’ll let you know if it works out.

Atossa laughed and followed Bardiya out of the small office and into the noise and movement of the main treasury room. Bardiya glanced over his shoulder. Going back to the weaving rooms now?

No, Atossa pulled a face, the queen instructed me to go over the accounts with the chief steward.

* * *

The next morning Atossa was having honey cakes and picking dress patterns with Artystone, her youngest sister. Artystone’s hair was light, almost the color of wheat berries. With the right fabrics, Atossa thought she looked even prettier than Roxane. They were just deciding how much yellow to use in the weaving of a new blue dress when Roxane rushed in.

You know I told you about Carthage sending someone to court us. Roxane plopped herself down on a cushion.

Um, actually... Atossa wasn’t sure about this characterization of Roxane's misguided wishful thinking.

Well, Bardiya says that it should be Egypt sending someone to court us, said Roxane as she picked up a honey cake.

I do think that would be a better match. Artystone smiled. Relieved at this solution to the tension. Do you think they are waiting for Father to get back to send a proper embassy, Atossa?

Atossa was still focused sharply on Roxane, When did you talk to Bardiya about it? You didn't actually go over to the king’s court and bring this up did you?

No, Roxane folded her hands more primly, of course not.

Yes, Artystone smiled, getting scolded by Father for interrupting is one thing, but when he's not here Mother steps in, and that no one wants to face.

That's because you can do a lot more damage when your father isn't here. Queen Cassadane spoke from the doorway behind them making Roxane and Artystone jump. The queen pulled back the curtain and entered the room. You're all of an age for adult responsibilities. You should be thinking not just of the consequences from your family but of the consequences to your family.

But I wasn't. I just went to see in the hall of announcements if the Carthage delegation had brought any wealthy gifts to display. I didn't even talk to the diplomat who was there. Bardiya took me aside to tell me about Egypt before I got to meet him.

Roxane, then Cassadane stopped and sighed, I don't even know where to begin. Go and pray to the Wise Lord that you might gain more wisdom.

Roxane seemed about to protest but must have thought of what other chores it might occur to the queen to assign to her and hopped up, saying, Yes, Great Queen as she dashed out the door.

Cassadane took a seat on the cushions laid on the floor. Now here is the chance to talk with my daughters that I was looking for. Planning some new clothes? she said gesturing.

We think we’ll use these two as the main colors and use this to do an Anahita’s wings pattern on the border. Artystone answered with a smile. I had thought a flower pattern but Atossa says the more triangular pattern will make me look pretty rather than just the dress looking pretty.

Impressive insight, Atossa. Cassadane poured herself some of the tea the girls were having. How does that go with your habit of focusing on clothing that is beautiful or impressive on its own when it comes to your own clothing?

I focus on what is most useful that’s also achievable. Atossa looked down at the cake in her hand. I don’t want to look like I’m trying to compete where I obviously can’t.

Atossa don’t worry so much. Cassadane answered, I know you children are struggling with living up to your father's reputation while he’s away, but he’ll be back in a month or so. With him here anything one of his daughters does will be seen as admirable.

And will Roxane get her prince? Artystone lightened the mood.

Yes, and my daughters will have kings. Ours is the blood of great kings. Cassadane answered, and they all laughed together.

* * *

Atossa walked into the shrine room. She was relieved there was no one there. This was one of the family rooms, not a temple, but the King of Kings household could command priests to come and tend their household shrines. Atossa had occasionally been annoyed with the priests. They sometimes expected to be called to perform rights whenever someone came to the shrines, or worse they thought themselves called upon to offer council as well as ceremonial services. Atossa had toyed for a few moments with commanding prayers to speed her father’s safe return. She quickly discarded the idea; what if there was then a horrible crisis that called him home, or something even worse.

Atossa began making a circuit of the shrines, contemplating each one. She frowned before the statue of Anahita, goddess of water and fertility, which had been added. It was beautiful, made of gold and gems. It was a fine example of a Median sculptor famous throughout the Empire for taking the Babylonian idea of making statues of their gods and making statues instead of Aryan deities. It was also an example of his admiration of the female form. When she contemplated it she could practically see him winking at his model. Whatever she wanted to find here tonight, it wasn't that.

She closed her eyes to see if that would help and then opened them again as she heard someone approaching. When it was Cambyses who pushed aside the gauzy curtain and entered, she smiled at him.

Thanking the goddess for the land's fertility, Sister? Cambyses smiled back.

You're interested in the land's fertility?

Cambyses grabbed her shoulders in a tight squeeze, I got to kill a lion today. I'm happy at everything that had a small part to do with that, even the fertility of the land.

That’s great. I know you were disappointed not getting to go on a dedicated hunting trip for lion.

I was right in front when we fired arrows at it and two wounded it. Then we cornered it, and I got down with a spear.

By yourself? Surely your spearmen...

Yes, well, several of them got down too but I had them stay back so I could kill it myself. And I did! Just like I’d practiced, one mighty lunge. Cambyses demonstrated the lunge, and Atossa swayed back to avoid it.

What about the Carthaginians?

They were slow riders so they weren't in the way at the kill. Or maybe they were just being polite so I wouldn’t have to offer them a shot. They did come and admire the lion afterwards though.

And what did the Carthaginians send an embassy for?

Oh they want to suppress piracy, which is fine with me. But I talked to Hystaspes, and we aren't going to let them discipline the peoples of the seacoast. Father is the King of Kings, and his countries are not to be corrected by outsiders.

Atossa laughed. So you've got it all handled, have you?

Father was right to leave me in charge of diplomatic affairs while he's on this campaign. It's even fun.

I'm glad that you're enjoying it. I'm so proud of you taking this on.

Don't worry, I'll handle the foreigners. Cambyses smiled and looked around, Hey, what you could do would be become an acolyte of Anahita. We could use someone who was in with the priests and the magi.

Cambyses should be old enough to know that a royal woman was far more valuable in forging a marriage alliance. At least he was thinking of the needs of the kingdom and seeing to his sister. And maybe it was sort of cute that he didn’t think of her as a woman.

I thought Bardiya was close to the magi? Atossa offered doubtfully.

Oh, he just humors them, says he never really listens, and I needn't either, said Cambyses with simple innocence. But I just feel someone should pay attention to them. You could be good at that.

I'm glad you think so.

"I do, I'll even let you say thank you about the hunt for me."

Atossa laughed as Cambyses strode out of the room. She tried to contemplate Anahita again and grimaced. She started to turn away then jerked back to stare. There was a blazing mass obscuring not the statue but a different image of a woman who was covering her face with her hands. Atossa’s mind froze, only prophetesses and magi had visions, they had to cleanse themselves and perform rituals to have them. Visions