Time: Two weeks after arriving at the border fortress
Location: The border fortress of Pars and Media
Twenty days of relentless marching had forged the Persian army into tempered steel.
They had now been encamped at the border fortress for two weeks.
The initial excitement and commotion were gone; replaced by an orderly silence and a heavy anticipation.
The soldiers tended to their weapons in silence.
The guards vigilantly watched from the surrounding hills.
And the columns of smoke rising from the field kitchens were the only sign of life in this silent sea of men.
They were waiting; waiting for the first roar of the storm that was coming from the north.
In the heart of this apparent calm, the keen eyes of the Persian army, the reconnaissance riders, were relentlessly scouting.
In small, agile groups, they moved like shadows across the land, searching every hill and valley for a trace of the enemy.
After two weeks of breathtaking anticipation, the news finally arrived.
A group of reconnaissance riders, commanded by one of Arash's young disciples, returned to the camp at a frantic speed.
Their faces were flushed with excitement and the dust of the road, and their horses were out of breath.
They were led directly to the command tent, where Kourosh and Cambyses were waiting.
The young commander, after paying his respects, reported with a voice trembling with excitement, "My lord, we saw them!"
"The vanguards of the Median army. A group of five hundred horsemen. They were scouting the area ten leagues north of us."
Arash, who was standing beside Kourosh, asked, "Did you engage them?"
The young commander shook his head.
"No, commander. As per orders, we only observed."
"They had an orderly formation and seemed to be more for a show of force than for reconnaissance."
"We were able to get close to them without being seen and estimate their direction of movement."
Kourosh walked towards the large map with calm steps.
He looked at the point the young commander had indicated.
Then, with a piece of charcoal, he drew the probable route of the entire Median army on the map.
"They are coming from the exact route I expected."
"They will pass through the main mountain pass. Slow and predictable."
He then turned to Cambyses.
"Father, they are arrogant in their power. They think we are hiding in the fortress, trembling with fear."
"They will advance with all their strength and without caution."
Cambyses looked at his son's resolute face. "So your plan is the same? A head-on battle?"
Kourosh nodded with confidence. "Yes, Father."
"We will not let the war be drawn into our land. We will meet them on this very plain."
"They expect a cowardly army, but they will face a wall of steel that will shatter them."
The confidence in his voice was contagious. He had complete faith in his technological superiority.
In the following days, more reports arrived.
The reconnaissance riders provided a more complete picture of the Median army: a massive army, with different units from various peoples, identified by different flags.
But there was one common point in all the reports: their movement was slow, their military formation traditional and predictable.
They did not even bother to send out small, secret reconnaissance groups.
They believed in their own victory.