Then Kritias wrote straight to the Ephors at Sparta. The influence of one whose power they knew so well was as much dreaded by them as by any of the Thirty; while to King Agis, the thought of revenge on his old enemy, his hated rival, was indeed sweet. The Ephors sent a peremptory order to Lysandros to compass, by all means, and speedily, the death or capture of the object of their fears. Lysandros dared not dally any longer with their command. He knew that Alkibiades was living at the court of Pharnabazos. He heard of the influence he was exercising over the satrap, an abler man than Tissaphernes, and of the splendid provision that the satrap had already made for him. He was in some doubt as to how Pharnabazos would act, but he sent a copy of the Ephors’ order to Daskylion, with a strong request to take immediate steps to carry out the Ephors’ wishes, adding a warning that any disregard of this request would be held to be conduct hostile to Sparta, as well as to Prince Kyros. Pharnabazos thus found himself in a pitiable plight. He was not without a sense of honour—of Eastern honour. That sense of honour had lately been greatly outraged when the Athenian ambassadors to the late king were forcibly taken from him by the young Prince, and imprisoned against the honourable understanding of all civilized nations. He had endeavoured to make up for this, as far as he could, by his cordial reception of Alkibiades, the late Athenian strategos, at whose suggestion the embassy to Persia had been sent. Besides this, there was the oath of mutual friendship and hospitality between them. His former opponent was now his guest; as such his life was inviolable. He could not defile that sacred relationship with blood. Moreover, he had conceived a more than common attachment for the Grecian warrior, who had sought his aid and friendship when driven off and hunted down by men of his own race. The old spell had been cast over him. He had always admired the man; to that admiration was added now a feeling of affection. Besides all this, the mission on which, with his concurrence, his guest was gone might very possibly succeed. He determined that, come what might, he would not harm him. And yet the mandate was very plain; there was no mistaking it: he must either comply with it or forfeit the friendship, and incur the enmity, of the all-conquering Spartans. If Kyros was successful in his intrigues, and the threatened revolt should break upon them, what would become of his power, and of what value would his life be then? He hesitated. Then he bethought him of a compromise.