The day after the confrontation between Mandane and Azhidahak, Kourosh's command spread among the Median prisoners.
All the commanders, from the Hezarbods to the great chieftains, were to present themselves at the grand council tent.
This news spread a wave of terror and anxiety among them.
In small groups, with pale faces and eyes full of pessimism, they made their way towards the tent.
They were expecting a summary trial and then a mass execution.
This was the inevitable fate of any defeated commander in the ruthless world of that era.
Mazares, the elderly general, walked among them with heavy, steady steps, but even on his calm face, the shadow of submission to fate could be seen.
Upon entering the grand council tent, they were faced with an unexpected scene.
Instead of an execution block or soldiers with drawn swords, a large table stood in the center of the tent.
On it, fresh bread, roasted meat, and goblets of drink were arranged.
At the head of the table, Kourosh sat on the command throne, and beside him stood Cambyses and Arash.
But what took the breath away from the Median commanders was the presence of two other individuals.
Azhidahak, their former king, who was sitting beside Kourosh in clean and dignified attire.
And Harpak, who now stood in the position of one of the senior Persian commanders.
With a gesture, Kourosh asked them to sit.
The Median commanders sat on the leather benches with hesitation and disbelief.
A heavy silence reigned in the tent.
Kourosh rose.
His voice was calm and full of an unexpected respect.
"O nobles and chieftains of Media."
"I have summoned you here not as prisoners, but as yesterday's rivals and tomorrow's comrades-in-arms."
He looked into the eyes of each one of them.
"On the battlefield, I witnessed your courage and your loyalty to your king."
"You fought like lions and, to the last moment, you remained loyal to your oath."
"Such courage is worthy of praise, not punishment."
These words created the first crack in the high wall of distrust and fear of the Median commanders.
They had expected anything but praise.
Kourosh continued, and with every word, he laid the foundations of a new empire.
"Many of you consider me a foreign conqueror."
"But I remind you that the blood of Media flows in my veins just as much as the blood of Pars."
"I am the son of Mandane, your princess."
He gestured to Azhidahak.
"And now, with the presence and confirmation of King Azhidahak, I declare that this is not a conquest; this is a union between two brotherly peoples."
"I offer you an equal position in the new government."
Kourosh's voice was firm and full of confidence.
"Your laws, your property, and your status among your people will be respected."
"I do not seek to destroy the Median civilization; I seek to build an empire that will shine in history forever by combining the power of Media and the wisdom of Pars."
"You will no longer serve Azhidahak, but you will serve the future of your children, the future of Media and Pars."
This intelligent move, this magnanimous offer, was beyond the imagination of the Median commanders.
They looked at each other, and in each other's eyes, they saw astonishment and a hopeful doubt.
Then, their gazes fell upon Azhidahak.
Their former king, with a face that no longer showed any sign of pride, slowly nodded his head in confirmation.
This gesture broke the last of their resistance.
Mazares, the elderly general, rose on behalf of the others.
He bowed deeply before Kourosh.
"Shahanshah, we drew our swords against you because we were loyal to our king."
"But today, we bow our heads before you because in you, we see not only a powerful conqueror, but a wise king."
He bowed again.
"I, Mazares, from this day, place my sword in the service of you and the great kingdom of Media and Pars."
With this gesture, all the other commanders also rose and bowed before Kourosh.
The pact was sealed.
Kourosh had conquered not only a war, but also the heart of his enemy.
With this move, he had turned a defeated army into the most loyal part of his future empire.