During one of the nightly stops, after the great camp had sunk into the silence of the night, Kourosh found an opportunity for a private meeting.
With two clay goblets full of a warm drink and two folding leather chairs, he went to his grandfather's tent.
A simple tent, but with all the royal respects.
Azhidahak was staring at the flickering flames of a brazier.
In his gaze, there was no longer the fear and humiliation of the first days.
Rather, a deep curiosity towards this strange and unpredictable grandson of his was surging.
Kourosh sat before him with respect and held one of the goblets out to him.
"Grandfather, I hope you are comfortable. The march has been long."
"I have come to learn from your wisdom, which is the result of years of rule."
For the first time since his defeat, Azhidahak felt that he still had something of value to offer.
He took the goblet.
"Ask, young man."
"Perhaps amidst the ashes of a burned kingdom, there are still sparks of wisdom left."
Kourosh, with the same precision with which he read war maps, began to ask.
He asked about the customs, the power structure, and the weaknesses of the various Median tribes.
"The Cadusian tribe in the north have always been rebellious. How did you keep them obedient?"
"How much influence do the Magi have in Ecbatana? Was their loyalty to you personally, or to the position of the kingship?"
These were not the questions of a curious child.
They were the questions of an empire's architect who was examining the foundations of his new structure.
Azhidahak, who had now accepted his new position as an advisor, began to give real and honest counsel.
He explained the political complexities of the Ecbatana court, the loyalties and the hidden betrayals.
"The Cadusians do not care for gold, Kourosh. They care for respect."
"If you give their leader internal autonomy and name him the 'guardian of the northern borders,' they will be your most loyal allies."
He took a sip of his drink.
"But be wary of the Paraetaceni. They always lean towards the dominant power."
"Buy their loyalty with land and position, not with trust."
He spoke for hours.
Of the hidden rivalries among the army commanders.
Of the influence of the merchants in the council of elders.
And of the soft power of the Magi.
"The Magi are the key to the people's hearts, Kourosh. Respect for them is respect for all of Media."
"Never disrespect them. Do not interfere in their religious affairs."
"But never, ever give them military power."
"A combination of faith and the sword is the most dangerous weapon that can be used against you yourself."
This conversation, which lasted late into the night, formed a new and complex relationship between the two.
The relationship of a young and curious king with an old and experienced advisor who was once his greatest enemy.
Azhidahak, in teaching his conqueror, was finding a new meaning for his own defeated life.
By transferring this knowledge, it was as if he was building a part of the new government that he himself had never been able to build.
And Kourosh, with an open mind thirsty for learning, listened carefully.
He knew that books could teach him tactics.
But only the experience of a defeated king could teach him the subtle art of ruling over men.
By learning from his enemy, he was laying the foundations of his own empire on wisdom and experience.
Foundations that were destined to be much stronger than the seven walls of Ecbatana.