One year before the Battle of Pasargadae, Year: 571 BCE
Location: Kourosh's army camp near Anshan
Night had spread its velvet, starry robe over the plains of Anshan.
But in the newly established camp of the united Persian army, sleep came to few. The air was charged with the raw, untamed energy of the day's spectacle and the pact the Persian tribes had made with Kourosh.
In the command tent, a ten-year-old Kourosh was bent over a map. The flickering light of the torches cast shifting shadows on his focused face.
Cambyses, his armor still on, stood beside him, listening to Arash's initial reports.
Suddenly, the tent flap was pulled aside.
A guard entered with an anxious face.
"Your Majesties, my lord, a messenger has arrived from Media. He says he has a secret message from Commander Harpagus."
A heavy silence fell over the tent.
Cambyses cast a questioning glance at Kourosh.
Kourosh, without lifting his head from the map, said calmly, "Let him enter. Alone."
The guard bowed and left.
A few moments later, a tall, dust-covered, and weary man in a dark cloak entered.
Beside him stood a teenager, thirteen or fourteen years old, with a tall frame and eyes that were worried yet proud.
The messenger threw back his cloak.
"King Cambyses, Prince Kourosh. I am Azar, Commander Harpagus's most trusted soldier."
His voice was rough and hoarse.
Then he pointed to the teenager beside him: "And this is Hirad, the commander's only son."
Cambyses and Arash stared at the boy in astonishment. Bringing Harpagus's son here was a gamble of life and death.
Azar began his report.
"Prince, Commander Harpagus has executed your brilliant plan to the letter."
"We found the body of a peasant's son who had recently died of illness."
"The commander... the commander disfigured the child's face with his own hands so he could not be identified. Then he delivered it to Azhidahak's men."
Azar's breath caught in his chest for a moment.
"Azhidahak, in the height of his madness, ordered a stew to be made from it. He arranged a feast and invited the commander as well."
Cambyses's face contorted in disgust. "And that vile feast..."
Azar continued, "It was held. The Median king, with his own hands, held out a dish to Commander Harpagus and said with a demonic smile, 'Eat, Harpagus. This is the reward for your loyalty.'"
"The commander knew what was in the dish, but to protect the plan, for the future of Pars... he ate."
The silence in the tent was so heavy that the sound of the burning torch was clearly audible.
"Azhidahak is now pleased. He thinks he has broken Harpagus and turned him into a loyal dog. He no longer has any suspicion of the commander."
After a moment of silence, Azar delivered the second part of his message.
"But this calm is the calm before the storm."
"Azhidahak has ordered all the tribes to mobilize. Our spies say he intends to attack Anshan with all his might, before your alliance can be consolidated."
"Our estimate is between four to six months from now."
He looked at Kourosh and added with certainty, "Commander Harpagus has sworn to delay this move by creating logistical problems, fanning border disputes, and sending false reports, but he cannot stop it forever."
Then, Azar gently placed his hand on Hirad's shoulder.
"Commander Harpagus has sent you his most precious treasure. He entrusts his blood and lineage to your hands, just as he has entrusted his loyalty to your cause."
Hirad, despite all his efforts, could not hide the slight tremor in his hands. He stood before two kings, far from home and in a land that, until yesterday, was considered an enemy.
Kourosh rose from behind the table and slowly walked towards Hirad.
He saw in the teenager's eyes a mixture of fear, pride, and confusion.
Kourosh stood before him and a warm, sincere smile appeared on his lips.
"Hirad, son of Harpagus, welcome to Anshan. You are not a hostage here. You are a member of our family."
His voice was calm and full of reassurance.
"Your father has shown a courage that few commanders in history can recall. He has saved not only your life but the future of two nations."
Kourosh placed his hand on Hirad's shoulder, just as an older brother would.
"I swear by the god Mithra, that as long as you are in this land, you will be as safe as I am."
"You will study with us, you will train, and one day, beside your father, you will become one of the pillars of the new empire."
These simple, respectful words shattered the teenager's defensive posture.
For the first time, Hirad raised his gaze and looked directly into Kourosh's eyes.
In that gaze, he saw not a child, but a king.
Cambyses, who until that moment had been watching in astonished silence, came forward.
He was thrilled by the maturity and wisdom in his ten-year-old son.
He placed his other hand on Hirad's shoulder and said with a voice full of strength, "Son, your father is a great man, and you have stepped into the home of a future emperor. We will protect you with our lives."
Azar, Harpagus's messenger, who had witnessed this scene, could no longer control his emotions.
He fell to his knees and, with a voice trembling with tears, said, "Prince... you... you are truly a messenger of Ahura Mazda. Commander Harpagus and all who believe in you will serve you to the death."
Kourosh gently raised him up and handed him a small scroll of New Persian paper, written in code.
"Deliver this to the commander. Tell him that time is short, but it is enough. Tell him that we will be ready."
With Azar's departure, Kourosh, Cambyses, and Hirad remained in the tent.
The blood pact had been sealed.
Now, a breathtaking race against time had begun to prepare for the storm approaching from Ecbatana.