To the warriors in Menon's charge, their chieftain had passed from boyhood to sterner age, for his laugh no more resounded through the camp as in days of old, and a frown of gloom sat always upon his brow. Where the followers of Ninus feasted by night and day, laying great rolls of fat upon their bones, Menon's men were held to the toil of war, to the practice of arms and a temperate use of wine and food, till slender and gaunt they grew, yet clear of sight and as hard as the rocky roads up which they climbed.
When half of the mountain's side was scaled and the army rested in the valley's lap, King Ninus proclaimed a council of his chiefs wherein he set forth plans to take the enemy unawares. That Oxyartes smelled their coming, was clear because of his many spies who dodged like mountain goats among the crags; yet weary days must pass ere the great machines of war could be dragged into the plains beyond, and this the Bactrians likewise knew full well. Therefore Ninus planned a sudden dash of chariots and horse through the highest mountain pass and a swift descent on Zariaspa, thereby cutting off a mass of Bactrians ere they found a safe retreat behind their walls.
This strategy seemed wise, and the chiefs as with one voice agreed thereto save Menon only, who sat apart and spoke no word. King Ninus, noting this, grew vexed and gave command that Menon stay behind in charge of the footmen and the baggage trains, a flout which hurt the youthful warrior to the marrow of his pride. For a moment he looked upon his master, then shrugged and left the council tent in silence, striding down the rocky path to his camp below. He yearned to reach the walls of Zariaspa, yet he knew full well that Ninus might accomplish naught without the aid of his ladders and his catapults; and these must be watched with a sleepless eye, for in them lay the hope of a breach in the city's walls or a path which led to the summit of the citadel. One man would stand upon that lofty goal and claim the prize--Semiramis--and Menon swore by his every god of light and gloom to be that man!
When the cloak of evening fell King Ninus with his horsemen and his chariots moved stealthily up the winding trail which led to the mountain's top, while Menon brooded by his camp fire far into the night. In the valley about him his soldiers lay asleep, wrapped in their cloaks, for the mountain air was chill; on the cliffs above his ghostly sentinels could be seen against the stars, watchful lest marauding bands swoop down to pillage the baggage trains or scatter the beasts of burden through intersecting glades. Many and bold were the Bactrian mountaineers who spared no pains to harass the Assyrians' march, though far too weak to battle openly; therefore they clung to the army's flanks, as insects gall a steed; and because of them Assyria itched by night and day.