The Rise of Iskander | Page 4

at length even dared to hope that they might effect its
deliverance, when Iskander was summoned to the army. It was a
mournful parting. Both of them felt that the last few months of their
lives had owed many charms to their companionship. The parting of
friends, united by sympathetic tastes, is always painful; and friends,
unless this sympathy subsist, had much better never meet. Iskander
stepped into the ship, sorrowful, but serene; Nicæus returned to his
palace moody and fretful; lost his temper with his courtiers, and, when
he was alone, even shed tears.

CHAPTER 3
Three weeks bad elapsed since the parting of Iskander and Nicæus,
when the former, at the head of ten thousand men, entered by a
circuitous route the defiles of Mount Hæmus, and approached the
Turkish camp, which had been pitched, upon a vast and elevated
table-ground, commanded on all sides by superior heights, which,

however, were fortified and well-garrisoned by Janissaries. The Epirots
halted, and immediately prepared to raise their tents, while their
commander, attended by a few of his officers, instantly proceeded to
the pavilion of Karam Bey.
The arrival of Iskander diffused great joy among the soldiery; and as he
passed through the encampment, the exclamations of the Turkish
warriors announced how ready they were to be led to the charge by a
chieftain who had been ever successful. A guard of honour, by the
orders of Karam Bey, advanced to conduct Iskander to his presence;
and soon, entering the pavilion, the Grecian prince exchanged
courtesies with the Turkish general. After the formal compliments had
passed, Karam Bey waved his hand, and the pavilion was cleared, with
the exception of Mousa, the chief secretary, and favourite of Karam.
"You have arrived in good time, Iskander, to assist in the destruction of
the Christian dogs," said the Bey. "Flushed with their accursed success,
they have advanced too far. Twice they have endeavoured to penetrate
the mountains; and each time they have been forced to retire, with great
loss. The passages are well barricadoed with timber and huge fragments
of rock. The dogs have lost all heart, and are sinking under the joint
sufferings of hunger and cold. Our scouts tell me they exhibit
symptoms of retreat. We must rush down from the mountains, and
annihilate them."
"Is Hunniades here in person?" inquired Iskander.
"He is here," replied Karam, "in person, the dog of dogs! Come,
Iskander, his head would be a fine Ramadan present to Amurath. 'Tis a
head worth three tails, I guess."
Mousa, the chief secretary, indulged in some suppressed laughter at this
joke. Iskander smiled.
"If they retreat we must assuredly attack them," observed Iskander,
musingly. "I have a persuasion that Hunniades and myself will soon
meet."

"If there be truth in the Prophet!" exclaimed Karam. "I have no doubt
of it. Hunniades is reserved for you, Bey. We shall hold up our heads at
court yet, Iskander. You have had letters lately ?"
"Some slight words."
"No mention of us, of course?"
"Nothing, except some passing praise of your valour and discretion."
"We do our best, we do our best. Will Isa Bey have Ætolia, think you?"
"I have no thoughts. Our royal father will not forget his children, and
Isa Bey is a most valiant chieftain."
"You heard not that he was coming here?" inquired Karam.
"Have you?" responded the cautious Iskander.
"A rumour, a rumour," replied Karam. "He is at Adrianople, think
you?"
"It may be so: I am, you know, from Athens."
"True, true. We shall beat them, Iskander, we shall beat them."
"For myself, I feel sanguine," replied the Prince, and he arose to retire.
"I must at present to my men. We must ascertain more accurately the
movements of the Christians before we decide on our own. I am
inclined myself to reconnoitre them. How far may it be?"
"There is not room to form our array between them and the mountains,"
replied Karam.
"'Tis well. Success attend the true believers! By to-morrow's dawn we
shall know more."

CHAPTER 4
Iskander returned to his men. Night was coming on. Fires and lights
blazed and sparkled in every direction. The air was clear, but very cold.
He entered his tent, and muffling himself up in his pelisse of sables, he
mounted his horse, and declining any attendance, rode for some little
distance, until he had escaped from the precincts of the camp. Then he
turned his horse towards one of the wildest passes of the mountain, and
galloping at great speed, never stopped until he had gained a
considerable ascent. The track became steep and rugged. The masses of
loose stone rendered his progress slow; but his Anatolian charger still
bore him at intervals bravely, and in three hours' time he had gained the
summit of