Had it been Artaxerxes who had fallen in the battle, the Queen-mother Parysatis would hardly have wept other than tears of joy, for then Cyrus would have been sure of the throne. But now that her best-beloved son was killed, the grief of Parysatis was only equalled by her burning desire for vengeance on all who had had any part in his death. She contrived to get into her power the Carian archer by whose javelin her son had been wounded, and the soldier who had carried through the ranks his head and hand, and caused them both to be tortured to death. [Illustration: TOMB OF DARIUS I. NEAR PERSEPOLIS. _See page 5._] XVII THE TREATY WITH ARIÆUS Terrible indeed must have been the despair of the Hellenes on hearing of the death of Cyrus, for by this one blow their whole position was changed, their every hope was shattered. Instead of being able to cherish pleasant dreams of future happiness made possible by the bounty of Cyrus, they had now before them nothing but a dark and dreary prospect of toil and danger, through which if they barely escaped with their lives, it was as much as they could dare to hope. Hitherto Cyrus, who had studied in advance every mile of the road, had been their leader, and had always brought them by the best way. Now they found themselves a thousand miles distant from their home, without the slightest knowledge of the countries through which they would have to pass. Hitherto they had been free from all care with regard to their daily food, for the liberal pay which they had received from Cyrus had enabled them to supply their wants without difficulty. Now they had nothing to fall back upon but their savings, and when these were spent, they would be reduced to the most extreme distress. They were, in fact, like men lost in some primeval forest, surrounded by every kind of danger, with no human being to help them, no landmark to point out the way, but nevertheless struggling to escape from among its gloomy shades. Fortunately for the Hellenes, there was among them one man at least, who, even in the most sudden reverses of fortune, never lost his presence of mind. This was the rough, stern soldier, Clearchus. Although under ordinary circumstances he was rather hated than loved by his men, yet in the press of battle, the consciousness that nothing escaped him, and that he, at all events, was absolutely cool and self-possessed, inspired them with courage and confidence, and in this time of need, he rose at once to the position of greatest authority in the whole army. Hitherto he had been merely the general of his own company; now he became commander-in-chief, not so much by any formal choice, as because every one was ready to grant him willing obedience, in the belief that whatever the difficulties might be, he would cope with them better than any one else.