"It's impossible for me to sleep tonight, and I'm sure it's the same with you, for thinking about the king's forces. Ever since we defeated them at Cunaxa they have held off from attacking us, unless they saw a point of weakness. We allowed them to lead us away from their soft vitals, Babylon-we were only fifty miles away after Cunaxa!-and now we are in the middle of the wilderness, in the country of the Medes no less, and they have killed our leaders. That is the weakness they have been waiting for. They will be watching us from afar in the morning, through their spies and scouts, to see whether the murder of our officers has had the desired effect, and whether now is the time for them to destroy us once and for all.

"Tissaphernes broke a solemn oath to us, sworn before the gods. Yet we are surrounded by a vast country, with endless provisions, flocks of cattle and sheep, untold quantities of plunder. These are prizes to be won by whichever side has the best men, and by whomever the gods support. Our bodies are better trained than theirs to endure hardship, and our souls are hardier. Most importantly, we are free men, while the Persian soldiers are slaves. The gods are the judges in this contest. Whom do you think they will favor, the lying Persians, or us?

"I say we wait no longer. The enemy will be arriving with the dawn. Count on me to follow you without question if you will lead; or if you order me to lead, I will solemnly do so, and make no excuses for my youth or inexperience."

When listening, the officers were silent, staring expressionless into the crackling fire. But when Xenophon finished his short speech, they looked at each other for a long moment, alert, any semblance of sleepiness or grief shaken out of them, considering his words. Finally Hieronymus of Elis, Proxenus' oldest squad leader, a grizzled and sturdy veteran of thirty years of campaigning who was widely respected by the men and general staff alike, slowly stood and walked over to the fire.

"Well spoken, young Xenophon," he said, peering into his eyes. "Your face is that of a boy, but you have voiced tonight what no one else had the heart to do. I, for one, will stand behind you if you will lead."

Several others stood up as well and joined Hieronymus, and then one by one, some eagerly, others rather more grudgingly, all finally agreed to this proposal, by default electing Xenophon as the spokesman for Proxenus' troops. Xenophon, expressionless, thanked the men for their confidence in him, and then turned again to the matter at hand.

"We have little time to prepare. Split up and go through the camp, finding all surviving officers or squad leaders. Meet here within an hour, and with the help of the gods we will determine our fates."

This we did, while Xenophon withdrew alone to his tent in the darkness. As I wandered through the camp, I could hear it rousing, despite the late hour; men were straggling in, bedraggled and sleepy-eyed, from the fields and the quarters of the camp followers where they had lodged in their despair and lack of discipline. Whispered conferences were held around me, and I heard the name Xenophon muttered in the shadows as men pointed out to each other the location of the fire at which we were to meet shortly.

Returning to Xenophon an hour later, I stooped to make my way through the flaps of the low doorway. Inside I found him sitting cross-legged against the stained canvas wall, his eyes closed, muttering softly under his breath like a naked Indian seer in a trance. The flickering flame from the tiny oil lamp sitting directly on the floor in front of him illuminated a small circle around his body, reflecting the gleaming sheen of perspiration that had beaded on his face and neck. No movement of his body gave the least indication that he had heard me enter.

"Xenophon…" I said with some concern, fearing a sudden outbreak of fever. "Xenophon! The men have gathered and are waiting for you. Do you know what you're going say to them?"

He fell silent, and slowly, with a sigh that seemed to issue from deep within his chest, he opened his eyes and looked at me unblinkingly in the dim light.

"No. I am praying."

I paused in surprise, and stared into his eyes a long moment.

"Alone? Without sacrifice or libation?" When praying for something as precious as survival, one should at least take the trouble to acquire a kid goat and assign a priest, and perform a proper sacrifice in front of the men.

Xenophon shook his head. "There's no time for that. The gods saw within my heart at Delphi, and they see within it now. They know the sacrifice I've made goes beyond a kid goat on an altar. And no, I do not pray for survival."

"Then surely you pray for the enemy's hand to be stayed from us…?"

"Nor that. We will all die, in five hours or fifty years, and in all truth, I don't believe it proper to beg the gods to extend my allotted time. My soul is burdened, Theo; I feel I have been assigned a duty of great weight. I pray merely that whatever time remains to me, the gods may give me the strength to live it as honorably as I can." He looked at me and opened his lips as if about to say more, then fell silent. I motioned with my head in the direction of the men waiting outside. He nodded and stood up, and we stepped out of the tent and toward the light.

As we arrived at the meeting site, I saw that an enormous bonfire had been built, a huge flame that drove away the darkness for fifty feet or more in all directions. It illuminated the expectant and alert faces of a hundred men, most of whom I had seen or had dealings with during our march thus far, but whose names I did not know. Word had spread throughout the camp that a meeting was being held to decide the army's fate. Some of the common troops, too, in their curiosity and fear, had crowded up behind the circle of junior officers around the campfire, waiting to hear what might happen and spread the word among their fellows. The fire crackled and spit, and as the whole logs that had been heaved onto the top gradually caught flame, the blaze began roaring like a river or the crashing sea, sending tongues of flame and sparks licking upward to blend with the stars, an enormous signal beacon flaring defiance to the enemy, beaming out our location, fairly daring them to attack, its warmth beckoning and yet at the same time its fierce, urgent roar dissuading and threatening. The men stared hypnotically into its sun-bright center, their faces, like Xenophon's, gleaming with a sheen of sweat, some of them mumbling as well. I wondered if the men, in losing their hope, were losing their minds also, and whether Xenophon, in bringing them here, was leading them into madness.

Hieronymus approached the fire, the flickering shadows exaggerating the already deep furrows in the skin of his weather-beaten, leathery face, and spoke tersely, in his gruff voice.

"Officers of the Greek army: We meet together this night to devise a common strategy. One among us, young Xenophon, has taken the initiative in this, and I call upon him to speak as he did to Proxenus' officers earlier this evening."

Xenophon got up, and covered the same matters as he had earlier, though more slowly and at greater length. But before he concluded his speech, I looked past the immediate light of the fire and was astonished to see not merely the hundred officers and the straggling companies of curious soldiers; but rather the entire camp, ten thousand men and half again as many camp followers, gathered for hundreds of feet around our meeting place, far beyond the reach of the firelight. Soldiers stood in rank, laundry women lifted each other onto their shoulders to see more clearly, vendors straggled in from the countryside-yet the enormous crowd was silent. All eyes were upon Xenophon, waiting for the words that would decide whether they were to be surrendered up to the enemy for slavery and death, or whether they had reason to hope they might return to their homeland. He concluded his plea to the officers: