Parthian Vengeance

Chapter 10

‘Gone,’ I wiped my eyes and slowly rose to my feet. My back ached and my mouth felt parched. ‘Gone where?’

Domitus shrugged. ‘No idea. The only thing I know is that he disappeared when he should have been on guard duty. That’s a capital offence.’

I stretched my back and walked across to where the horses were tethered to a tree. I untied Remus and led him to the small stream we had camped by. It brought clear, fresh water from beneath the parched hills to the east before it was tainted when it entered the Salt Sea. Domitus walked with me.

‘What are you going to do?’ he pestered me.

The others were also stirring by now, wrapped in their cloaks to keep away the cool of the early morning.

‘If Aaron has absconded there is little I can do. This is after all his country and if he has decided to stay here then that is that.’

‘He should be taken back to Dura in chains and then executed.’

I let Remus drink from the stream as the others brought their horses to the water. I rubbed my stubble-covered chin.

‘Aaron is not in the army, Domitus, so you cannot have him executed.’

‘He put us all in danger by disappearing like he did. That alone is enough to place a noose around his neck.’

I squatted down and scooped up some water with my hands to wash the dirt from my face.

‘Where is Aaron?’ asked Malik.

‘Where indeed?’ said Domitus.

I stood up and stretched my back again. I must have slept on a stone because the ache would not go.

‘Aaron has gone, Malik,’ I replied.

‘Deserted, more like,’ added a furious Domitus.

Malik looked around at the barren hills that surrounded us. ‘Deserted to where?’

‘Jericho.’

Alexander had sauntered over to where we stood.

‘Jericho?’ I was confused. ‘What’s that?’

He bent down and scooped up a handful of water to drink.

‘A town about ten miles northeast of here. Aaron grew up there, though his father is long dead and there is no family business now.’

‘Why would he go back, then?’ I asked.

Alexander smiled. ‘His beloved lives there. To be so close to her was too much for him to bear, I think. I would wager all the gold I have that at this very moment he is at her mother’s house in the town. The young idiot!’

‘Idiot and deserter,’ said Domitus.

‘Why an idiot?’ I asked.

Alexander looked to the north. ‘Aaron, son of Jacob, is well known in Jericho, well known for being a senior figure in the faction that supported my father. There is a large reward on his head, just as there is on mine. By visiting Jericho Aaron has signed his own death warrant.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘we had better go and get him back then.’

Domitus, his mood already sombre when he had awoken to discover Aaron had absconded, got even more gruff and snappier when I announced that we would go to Jericho to rescue Aaron. After we had groomed and fed the horses and checked their shoes, and then eaten a meagre breakfast of hard biscuit and salted mutton, he cornered me. I was checking my saddlecloth for insects that might have embedded themselves in the material and which might be an irritant to Remus when he was saddled.

‘I say we should leave him to it. These Jews are more trouble than they’re worth.’

‘You are being uncharitable, Domitus. Aaron was as good as his word was he not, regarding the gold, I mean?’

‘Be that as it may, there is no point in getting involved in their little civil war. Look around. You have no cataphracts or horse archers to back you up if things take a turn for the worse, and my legions are back at Dura.’

I smiled at him. ‘I thought they were my legions.’

He was not amused. ‘Don’t get smart. How are you going to fight a Roman garrison with only Malik and me? Byrd is not a soldier and I don’t trust Surena.’

‘He is fearless, Domitus.’

He nodded grimly. ‘That is exactly what I mean. He’s fearless and also reckless and headstrong and quite capable of getting us all killed.’

I laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Then it is a good job that I have worked out a plan that will get us Aaron back without having to fight, hopefully.’

‘Do we want him back?’ He mumbled before stalking away.

I asked Byrd and Malik to ride into Jericho to scout the town to find Aaron and bring him back before he was arrested. Alexander drew a rough plan of Jericho in the dirt using his dagger, indicating where the house of Aaron’s sweetheart was located. He said he could not accompany them since his face was too well known in the area. Even though the region contained a large number of his supporters, the adherents of Hyrcanus and their Roman allies also lived in the town. We would wait until they returned, hopefully with Aaron. Surena also wanted to accompany them but I refused his request. Byrd had a talent amounting to genius for moving unseen through the countryside, cities and crowds; Surena had a habit of drawing attention to himself like a roaring lion in the middle of an empty square. Instead I sent him on foot into the hills with Alexander to bring us back some fresh meat to eat, leaving Domitus and me in camp.

For the first hour Domitus said nothing but amused himself with sharpening his sword on the stone he had brought with him. At first I occupied myself with stringing my bow to test the tautness of the bowstring and then inspected every one of my arrows. Then I oiled the blades of my spatha and dagger and all the while he watched me like a falcon observes its prey.

‘You have something to say, Domitus?’

He stopped running the stone along the keen edge of his sword.

‘You are making a mistake. We should be on the road back to Dura by now. Aaron clearly wants to stay in this land so let him. It’s no great loss.’

‘I suspect my dear Domitus that Aaron prefers Dura to Roman-occupied Judea and has let his heart get the better of him in this instance. I would have done the same if Gallia had been but a stone’s throw away.’

He shook his head and returned to sharpening his sword, mumbling to himself as he did so. Mid-morning Surena and Alexander returned to camp with a slain gazelle Surena had shot. Alexander told me that the beast had been brought down with a single arrow at a great distance, which a gloating Surena had great delight in telling Domitus. This served only to further sour my general’s mood, though he was able to take out his frustrations on the dead gazelle. The sun was high in the sky now and the day was dry and hot. While Surena and Alexander stripped off and cooled themselves in the stream Domitus gutted the dead animal away from the horses so the smell of blood and guts would not alarm them. He made a small hole in the ground and then slit the animal’s throat to bleed it, the blood gushing into the depression.

He had obviously decided that discussing Aaron further was futile and only served to raise his wrath, so he brought up another topic.

‘After Silaces and his men are equipped,’ he rolled the carcass onto its belly, ‘you will march against Mithridates and Narses once more?’

‘Yes, their assassination attempt on me must be avenged lest I appear weak.’

He nodded approvingly and rolled the beast onto its back. ‘Makes sense. You will always be looking over your shoulder while those two bastards are still in the world.’

He cut the animal’s skin with his dagger from the tailbone to just under the chin and then from foreleg to foreleg and then hind leg to hind leg, being careful not to cut the thin membrane enclosing the entrails.

‘And once they are in the same position as this animal, then what?’

He began skinning the carcass, lifting the skin and using his dagger to peel it away. He then slit its belly and turned it on its side to roll out the entrails.

‘I don’t understand,’ I said.

He turned the animal on its skinned side and began again on the opposite side.

‘The empire will need a new king of kings, that’s what.’

I shrugged. ‘That will not be my concern.’

‘It will be if you don’t have someone you think is suitable to fill the position, bearing in mind that your father is not interested. Killing kings is easy, finding their replacements less so.’

Once Domitus had finished skinning the carcass he quartered the animal and then he and I searched for wood to make a fire. By the time Byrd and Malik returned to us later that afternoon the fire was raging and the smell of roasting meat filled the air. Alas their news was not good.

They informed us that Aaron had indeed visited the house where his beloved lived in the northeast part of the town, but had been spotted and reported to the Roman authorities and duly arrested. He was currently being held in the town’s jail before his execution.

‘His execution!’ I was horrified.

‘The Romans are eager to rid Judea of any opponents to their rule, that is why most of us who are opposed to them live in the hills and other places away from the towns,’ said Alexander. ‘Aaron would have been on a list of political enemies to be apprehended. When is his execution?’

‘Tomorrow,’ replied Byrd, tucking into his portion of meat. ‘He condemned by Romani council.’

Alexander explained that after its occupation by the Romans Judea was divided into five administrative districts called synhedroi, the headquarters of one of them being Jericho. All those arrested for political crimes were brought before each district’s Roman council rather than the local Jewish religious court.

‘I speak to Romani soldier outside courthouse,’ said Byrd, ‘he say Aaron denounced Rome as the mother of harlots, an abomination drunk with the blood of saints.’

‘Well, that’s him done for,’ said Domitus with relish. ‘They’ll lop off his head tomorrow in the jailhouse and then dump his body on the rubbish heap.’

‘The punishment for political crimes is crucifixion,’ said Alexander, staring unblinkingly at Domitus.

‘So?’

‘So,’ replied Alexander, ‘the condemned are put to death outside the town’s walls.

‘Alas for Aaron,’ said Malik.

‘But perhaps not,’ I mused, looking at Alexander. ‘Crucifixions are held outside the town, you say?’

He nodded. ‘That is correct. On a small hill a short distance to the east of the town. The Romans like to put on display the corpses of all those who dare to defy their rule as a warning to others.’

‘What time are crucifixions?’ I asked.

‘Two hours after dawn.’

Domitus wore a worried expression. ‘Please tell me you are not thinking what I suspect is going through your mind,’ he said to me.

‘No man deserves to be nailed to a cross for the crime of seeing his sweetheart. Tomorrow, my friends, I intend to rescue Aaron and see him brought safely back to Dura. I hope I can count on your assistance.’

Domitus spent the next hour trying to dissuade me, giving me a score of excellent reasons why the whole idea was folly and that we should leave Aaron to his fate and return home. But I would not change my mind and Surena and Malik pledged their support, while Byrd merely shrugged and said he cared little either way. Thus was Domitus outmanoeuvred and outnumbered and forced to accept defeat. Alexander also wanted to come along but I politely refused his offer. For one thing I did not know if he was a warrior — he certainly did not look like one — and for another he had no horse. I intended to strike hard and fast and leave even quicker.

We broke camp two hours before dawn and walked our horses for the first hour. Alexander sent Levi and Ananus sprinting ahead to ensure the road was free of any Roman patrols. Alexander had told us that the Roman garrison in Jericho numbered no more than a century, probably less — under eighty men. The main concentrations of Roman soldiers were at Jerusalem — a cohort — and Caesarea, the provincial capital, which held a further two cohorts. There were in addition numerous auxiliary units raised from locals spread throughout Judea. Alexander reported that there were a hundred such soldiers in Alexandreum, a town twenty miles to the north of Jericho. They were too far away to trouble us.

We rode along the shore of the Salt Sea and then headed northwest to Jericho, crossing the River Jordan via a ford. Alexander, Levi and Ananus stayed behind at the river to ensure our escape route stayed open. Byrd led Aaron’s horse as we rode the last five miles to Jericho. It was well past dawn when I saw the walls of Jericho for the first time, a stone circuit that encompassed the town and was broken only on the eastern side — the town’s sole gate. In the distance, beyond the town to the west, were mountains that looked down on the fertile plain in which Jericho was situated. Alexander told me that the fields around the town grew spices and flowers for perfumes but the main product was dates. Indeed, Jericho was nicknamed ‘town of palm trees’. As we approached the town gates I saw wooden poles planted in the ground on top of a small hill just off the road, some of them with crossbeams attached from which hung skeletons with grinning skulls. The Romans had planted their own unique crops in the area as well.

There was already traffic on the road, haggard-looking men leading donkeys and camels laden with wares going towards the open gates and passing others exiting the town. I halted our small contingent adjacent to the hill where the crucifixions were carried out. Giant crows were already perched on some of the crossbeams, eagerly awaiting the next batch of unfortunates who would be nailed to crosses. It could take up to five days to die on the cross and in that time the ravens would feast on the bodies of the condemned, pecking out their eyes first and then gorging themselves on their flesh.

‘Domitus and Malik,’ I ordered, ‘stay here. When Surena and I begin to kill the escort that will be your signal to free Aaron. Byrd, you stay with Aaron’s horse back up the road. When you see that he has been freed, make haste and get it to him. Then ride with him back to the ford as quickly as you can. Everyone understand?’

They all nodded and I nudged Remus forward with Surena behind me as Byrd retreated two hundred paces or so back up the road. As Remus walked towards the town there was a commotion at the gates and then a party of Roman legionaries appeared, twelve men in two files flanking a stooping figure with a heavy crossbeam across his shoulders — Aaron. His pace was slow and he shuffled his feet as he trudged towards his place of execution.

‘Surena, ride on the left-hand side of the road and I will take the right-hand side. Wait for my command before you begin shooting.’

‘Yes, lord,’ he replied.

I saw a centurion at the head of the column with his telltale transverse crest atop his helmet. The legionaries behind him were equipped with mail shirts, shields and helmets. They carried short spears rather than javelins, no doubt for crowd control should there be any trouble. That appeared distinctly unlikely for behind the soldiers trooped a small number of civilians led by what looked like a priest in blue and white robes. He sported a black beard whose ends were fashioned into coils. He seemed to be chanting some sort of prayer. Behind him came two ashen-faced women, one of them middle aged supporting the other, younger one who was sobbing uncontrollably. Aaron’s beloved I assumed.

Both Surena and I had our head cloths covering our faces as we ambled past the centurion at the head of the column and the legionaries filed past us one by one. I glanced at Aaron; his eyes cast down, and saw blood around his shoulders. The Romans had already scourged him, as was their custom, to further increase his torment once he was fixed to the cross. His arms were also spread along the crossbeam and held in place by leather straps. They made it impossible for him to struggle while hammering nails through his wrists. The Romans were above all a practical people in such matters.

Behind the wailing woman and her older friend came the usual chaff that accompanied public executions: the bloodthirsty, the sanctimonious, the curious and those whose lives were so wretched that they could only be made bearable by being witness to suffering greater than their own. These people I did not concern myself with. They would disappear faster than the crows perched on the crucifixion posts when the violence began.

Aaron was bundled off the road and onto the hillock beside it. Then he was shoved roughly by a legionary towards one of the poles. These were not high, no more than seven feet I estimated, just high enough to allow the crossbeam to be planted on top by means of a square peg of wood that had been carved from the top of the pole. There was a hole of the same shape in the middle of the crossbeam, which could easily be slotted onto the top of the pole. Simple and effective. The victim would be left to dangle and would die in agony as the weight of his body prevented him from filling his lungs with air. He would try to pull himself up but the pain in his wrists would be excruciating, and so his strength would fail and he would die of asphyxiation. Eventually.

The crucifixion party had halted now and were grouped around the waiting pole. There was a ladder propped up behind it. Once the victim had been lifted into position by two legionaries holding each end of the crossbeam, another on the ladder in a final act of cruelty would adjust the leather straps to allow the victim to sag slightly, at the same time giving him the means to breathe, if he could pull himself up with his arms.

The small crowd had gathered around the legionaries as Aaron stood with his eyes closed, his lips moving as he recited a prayer I assumed. We all seek the comfort of our gods when death is close. I looked at the young woman who was barely able to stand due to her grief, her friend supporting her as she wailed. The centurion stood and faced the crowd, a look of boredom on his face, while two of his men stood either side of Aaron and turned him so that he also faced the onlookers.

‘Let it be known that Aaron, son of Jacob,’ the centurion’s voice was emotionless, ‘has been found guilty of being an enemy of Rome and the Judean authorities and has been sentenced to death.’

A legionary threw a bag of nails on the ground at Aaron’s feet. Another put his spear and shield on the ground and pulled a hammer from his belt. I looked over to Surena and nodded. I glanced at Domitus and Malik who had dismounted and moved among the crowd. I reached behind and pulled my bow from its case, then extracted an arrow from my quiver. The centurion continued.

‘The people of Rome condemn you. The gods of Rome condemn you.’

He turned and nodded to the two legionaries standing beside Aaron and I released my bowstring. The arrow hissed through the air and struck the centurion in the middle of his back, causing him to first arch his body and then pitch forward onto the ground. Surena’s first arrow hit the legionary holding the hammer in his chest, the bronze arrowhead going through his mail shirt and into his heart. He was dead before he hit the ground. My second arrow hit the legionary who had been carrying the bag of nails in the belly, knocking him to the ground.

I strung another arrow and saw Domitus draw his gladius and thrust it through the neck of a legionary who had heard the dull thud of the arrows hitting his comrades and had turned to see where the noise was coming from. He never saw the face of his killer as blood sheeted from his neck and he collapsed on the ground. Malik had run his sword through the legionary who had been standing next to the one that Domitus had killed and was running towards Aaron.

Chaos erupted as people scattered in all directions to avoid being killed. They had come to witness another man die but now faced danger themselves. A legionary grasped his spear to throw at Malik, who was desperately cutting at the leather straps that pinioned Aaron’s arms to the crossbeam. My arrow felled him before he could throw it.

Half the Romans had been killed by now as Malik freed Aaron and Byrd galloped down the road leading his horse. Malik bundled a stunned Aaron towards his waiting horse as Domitus, who had grabbed an abandoned scutum, fought the rest of the Romans single-handedly. A legionary ran at him with his spear levelled but Domitus jumped aside and went down on his right knee as his opponent passed him, then cut deep into the man’s hamstring with a wicked back slash of his gladius. The man yelped and halted, and was knocked off his feet by an arrow shot by Surena. I killed another Roman who attempted to flee back to the town, who in his blind panic did not see the man on a white horse in front of him who calmly pointed his arrow straight at his chest and then released his bowstring. It was all over in less than two minutes.

Surena whooped with joy as he surveyed the dead Romans on the ground and held his bow aloft. He then spotted the Jewish holy man who stood like a rock in the middle of the road and who was berating me like a man possessed, his eyes wide and his voice booming as he aimed a stream of invective in my direction. What he was saying I did not know but by his tone and demeanour I assumed he was calling on his god to strike me down.

Twang.

The holy man fell silent when Surena’s arrow went through his ribcage.

I trotted over to where he sat in his saddle with a smug expression on his face.

‘It is considered bad luck to kill holy men,’ I told him, ‘lest you offend their gods.’

‘I don’t believe in the gods, lord,’ he grinned, holding up his bow, ‘only in this and the man who shoots it.’

I rode over to where Malik was shoving Aaron into his saddle.

‘How is he?’

‘He will live,’ said Malik, ‘but his back needs tending to.’

‘That will have to wait. Byrd, get him out of here.’

‘Thank you, majesty,’ said Aaron weakly.

Domitus ran over with his and Malik’s horse.

‘That was easy enough. We had better get out of here.’

Suddenly the young woman who had been weeping was by Aaron’s side, kissing his hand, tears running down her face. Then the other woman appeared beside her friend.

‘We must take them too, majesty,’ said Aaron. ‘They will be in danger if they remain.’

Domitus hauled himself into his saddle. ‘We must go, Pacorus. We can’t take any women with us.’

‘Please, majesty,’ implored Aaron, the young woman still clutching his hand. The older woman looked up at me with sad brown eyes.

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Malik, the young woman will ride with you and Domitus can take the elder one.’

Domitus was not amused. ‘What?’

‘Just do as I ask,’ I ordered as Malik pulled the young woman up behind him.

Domitus shook his head and did likewise, just as Byrd pointed towards the town.

‘Romani horsemen come.’

I turned and saw a column of riders gallop through the town gates, about ten in number and armed with spears and carrying round shields on their left sides.

‘The rest of you go now,’ I shouted. ‘Surena and I will form the rear guard. Move!’

They rode back towards the ford as I pulled an arrow from my quiver and followed them with Surena beside me.

‘Aim for the horses,’ I shouted to him.

They were closing on us fast as I tensed my thigh muscles to keep me locked in the saddle and twisted to the left to look behind me. They were riding two abreast about fifty paces behind us. I released my bowstring and the arrow hit the right front horse, pitching its rider over its head as it collapsed on the ground. Surena’s arrow was shot too high and missed the flanking horse but struck its rider. The result was that our pursuers were thrown into disorder as they swerved left and right to avoid colliding with the head of the column.

I halted and turned Remus around as the others galloped towards the ford. Surena pulled up his mount when he realised I was no longer beside him and rode back to me.

‘Is Remus lame, lord?’

‘No,’ I replied. ‘We have slowed them but we need to drop a few more to deter them from pursuing us.’

I strung an arrow and hit another of their horses, then hit a rider who was charging towards me. I kept pulling arrows from my quiver and shot them in quick succession until it was empty. Surena did the same and my gamble paid off, for the enemy riders, those who still lived, retreated back towards the town. We waited there for a few minutes to ensure they did not rally to continue their pursuit, before continuing our journey to the ford.

At the river we found a waiting Byrd and no one else.

‘Others have gone on ahead, back to camp.’

I told him and Surena to ride ahead as I halted Remus on the eastern bank of the Jordan and watched and waited for any other pursuers. After ten minutes of seeing no one save a poor farmer pulling a surly donkey weighed down with a great load of firewood, I followed my companions back to camp. Alexander had posted sentries all round the campsite when I reached it half an hour later, and had also positioned lookouts on the surrounding hills.

‘We can’t stay here much longer,’ he said, wincing as Domitus cauterised a wound on Aaron’s back with his dagger that had been heated in a fire.

‘How long do we have?’ I asked him.

‘The authorities have probably sent an urgent message to Alexandreum for reinforcements. They won’t do anything until they arrive. I would say we have about three hours before they send riders to track us down.’

After leading Remus to the stream to drink I sauntered over to where the young woman was applying a bandage to Aaron’s wounds.

‘How’s the patient?’ I enquired.

Domitus wiped his dagger on a rag and replaced it in its sheath.

‘He’ll live.’

I watched as the woman tenderly assisted Aaron in putting on a fresh tunic, after which she kissed him on the lips. She then stood and faced me. She was dressed in a simple light brown robe, blue belt at her waist, white head cloth and sandals on her feet. She was certainly a striking woman. She fell on her knees before me, took my right hand and kissed it, speaking me to in her native tongue that I did not understand.

Aaron spoke up though his voice was weak from the flogging he had received. ‘She thanks you for saving the life of her beloved and asks god to be kind to you.’

I lifted her up and smiled at her. ‘Tell her that she is very welcome. What is her name?’

‘Rachel, majesty.’

I bowed my head to her. ‘Rachel.’

The elder woman was brought to me. Like the younger one she had an oval face, dark brown eyes and olive skin. She was a tall woman dressed in a blue flowing robe that covered her arms and legs. She too wore a white head cloth.

‘This is Miriam, majesty,’ said Aaron, ‘Rachel’s mother.’

I embraced her as befitting her status. She also thanked me but kept glancing at Malik.

‘I think your tattoos are alarming our guests, Malik. Aaron, tell your future mother-in-law that Malik is a great prince of the Agraci and that he means her no harm.’

To spare the women’s modesty we gave them each a pair of leggings to wear under their robes so they could ride more easily. Then, an hour after I had entered camp, we mounted our horses again for the journey back to Dura. Alexander cautioned against returning via the Jordan Valley and so we headed east into the desert. Malik assured me that we could make our way from oasis to oasis while staying well clear of Judea and Syria, and the Romans. Aaron wanted Rachel to ride behind him but his lacerated back would have made his journey intolerable and so she rode behind Malik. Miriam again rode behind Domitus who protested loudly, but I think he secretly liked the idea of being a woman’s champion.

Before we left we said our farewells to Alexander and his men.

‘When we get back to Dura, Aaron and my governor will work out the details of our arrangement,’ I said to the Jewish prince.

‘How soon will you be able to supply me with weapons?’ he asked.

‘The first consignment will leave Dura the day the first payment in gold arrives, that I promise.’

He offered me his hand. ‘I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial friendship.’

I took his hand. ‘That is what I also wish for, lord prince.’

And so, with full waterskins and sacks filled with fresh provisions and fodder provided by Alexander, we rode east into the sun-blasted land of rock and sand east of Judea. Surena and I acted as a rear guard for the others, and I glanced back one last time to look at the shimmering figure of a Jewish prince silhouetted against the bleak yellow hills of eastern Judea where that kingdom’s great wealth lay hidden.

We rode for three hours directly east, travelling through sparsely vegetated wadis that ran between limestone and granite cliffs. The steep-sided rock faces dwarfed us as we moved through them, the sounds of iron-shod hooves echoing around the canyons. I kept looking back to see if we were being pursued but saw nothing but a saker falcon or bustard in the sky. I also saw an ibex, a large mountain goat with magnificent curved horns, staring down at us from a precipitous rock ledge high above.

As the day waned the temperature dropped quickly but that night we lit no campfire for fear of alerting any would-be pursuers. We organised a guard rota but I hardly slept a wink as I leaned against a rock wrapped in my cloak with my knees drawn up to my chest. I must have slept a little because I awoke stiff, tired, dirty and chilled to the bone. The others in our party also appeared to have had a less than comfortable night. Rachel and Aaron, however, looked blissfully happy in each other’s company.

We set out east again, following the course of a wide stream that coursed through a great wadi. People think that the desert is a barren wilderness filled with sand dunes and death, and great tracts of it are indeed so. But the desert also contains an abundance of water, animals, plants and people, if you can find them. As our horses waded through water that ran between large boulders and canyon walls rose sheer on either side of us, I was struck by the abundance of greenery in this place. Reeds and small bushes lined the banks of the stream and trees sprouted from the cliff face to resemble a great hanging garden, made green by the water springing from the rock.

The sky was clear blue and the sun beat down to warm the earth, but the cliffs shaded us from its heat. Around midday we halted in a spot where the stream filled a vast rock pool, its waters clear and cool. Surena and Domitus stripped naked and threw themselves in as Rachel and Miriam averted their eyes and Malik laughed. The Agraci prince also disrobed and immersed himself in the waters, his back and chest adorned with black tattoos that were the hallmark of Agraci warriors. I stripped to the waist and washed the grit from my body. I thought it improper that the King of Dura should show himself naked to his subjects, a notion that Domitus ridiculed.

‘Gallia has told me that it’s nothing to get excited about, so you might as well join us.’

‘I’m glad that the general of my army retains a great respect for his king,’ I replied dryly.

Afterwards, when they had washed themselves clean and dried their bodies, we watered the horses and Rachel fetched water to clean Aaron’s wounds. He may have been a happy man but his back looked horrid. As he lay on his stomach on a blanket and Rachel dabbed his wounds with a damp cloth, Domitus shook his head.

‘They made a right mess of him. No doubt the whip was reinforced with bone and nails to give it a bit of spice.’

‘I know what it’s like to be flogged,’ I said, wincing at Aaron’s red raw back. ‘It is most painful.’

‘It felt as though my flesh was on fire,’ said Aaron, grimacing every time Rachel’s cloth touched his flesh.

Malik looked at the trees growing out of the cliff face above us, then licked his finger and held it aloft.

‘No wind; good. Time to call “the wolf”, I think.’

‘The wolf?’

He nodded. ‘These are Lord Vehrka’s lands. Vehrka means “wolf”. I should announce our presence.’

Malik took a small leather pouch from his saddlebag and then began to scour the area for dry wood. I also lent a hand and was joined by Byrd, Surena and Domitus. Malik told us to make a pyre away from the campsite, on the other side of the stream. We did so and then he told us to collect the dung that had been deposited by our horses and position it so that it was in the sun. I ordered Surena to carry out this task.

‘But, lord, I am the commander of your horse archers,’ he protested.

‘Alas, Surena, we outrank you all,’ I replied. ‘I am a king, Domitus is a general and Malik a prince. Byrd is a civilian and thus exempt from the chain of command. And you wouldn’t expect the women to undertake such an unpleasant task, would you?’

He mumbled and grumbled as he collected the manure in his hands and dumped it on a boulder that lay in the sun. Malik assured him it was absolutely necessary for the task in hand. As a horse usually produces around fifty pounds of manure daily, there was no shortage of it to dry in the sun. When he had finished he spent a long time in the rock pool washing his hands and using the point of his dagger to clean under his fingernails.

‘The Ma’adan use buffalo dung to keep away flies, do they not?’ I said as he sat by the edge of the pool examining his fingers.

‘They do, lord,’ he muttered. ‘But I thought I had left that life behind.’

‘Never forget your roots, Surena. If you know where you have come from then you know where you are going.’

He was far from convinced. ‘If you say so, lord.’

An hour later Malik judged the dung dry enough for his purpose and lit the great pyre that had been built. He tossed the dung on the flames and then opened his leather pouch and extracted a handful of powder.

‘Sulphur,’ he grinned at me, tossing it on the fire.

Soon a pillar of thick black smoke was extending upwards into the sky.

‘That will be seen miles away,’ said Domitus with alarm.

‘Exactly,’ replied Malik.

The fire burned down to ashes and the pillar of black smoke got thinner and thinner until it resembled a dark needle pointing towards the heavens and then disappeared altogether. Malik said that we should wait in this spot and so I sent Surena back up the canyon to keep watch. We had seen no sign of pursuit but if there were any Roman patrols out they would have seen the smoke and would be heading in our direction. But Malik dismissed my fears.

‘Believe me, Pacorus, if there are any enemy horsemen riding in this region they will have more to concern themselves with than us.’

So we unsaddled the horses and I shot a curious ibex that thought it was safe to peer at us from a rock ledge fifty feet above our position. He moaned when the arrow struck his belly and then tumbled from the ledge onto the rocks below. Domitus skinned and gutted it and had the meat roasting over a fire by the time I relieved Surena on watch. Three hours had passed before we heard the sound of horses and men coming from further down the wadi. Surena and I immediately strung arrows in our bowstrings and Domitus drew his gladius, but Malik laughed and said that we had nothing to fear.

Then men in black robes on horseback filled the canyon as at least a hundred Agraci warriors rode towards us. And above us on either side I saw other Agraci horsemen on top of the cliffs, black shapes silhouetted against an intense blue sky. Like Malik the warriors in front of us carried round black shields, though these men also carried long spears in addition to the swords at their hips. Their faces were covered by head cloths, which gave them the appearance of demons from the underworld. Rachel and Miriam shrank back from the black host before them, seeking sanctuary in each other’s arms.

A figure on a grey stallion at the head of the group urged his mount forward. It was a beautiful Agraci beast with a wide, flat forehead, broad nose, long, erect ears and a straight and slender neck. I assumed the man who rode on its back was Lord Vehrka judging by his horse’s rich decoration: a black, beaded halter decorated with silver discs and black tassels. His wool and cotton saddle was also decorated with black tassels. The man slid off his horse’s back and walked towards Malik, pulling aside his head cloth to reveal his face. I have to confess that he did not have the appearance of a wolf, being slim, of medium height and possessing a thin face with a large nose. He bowed to Malik.

‘Greetings, Prince Malik, welcome to my lands.’

‘It is good to see you, Lord Vehrka. I must request your hospitality.’

Vehrka bowed his head again. ‘It is freely given.’

‘One of our party is injured and we require additional horses for those who have none.’

After the introductions were complete Vehrka gave orders for his surgeon to attend Aaron. I watched as the man took a small jar from his bag and rubbed a blue paste onto Aaron’s wounds. The man had a very light touch because Aaron did not flinch as the ointment was applied to his broken skin.

‘What is that?’ I asked Vehrka.

‘Malachite, ground down to make a paste. It will heal his back and also keep the flies away. Wealthy Egyptian women use it to decorate their eyes but we use it for its medicinal properties. Looks like someone gave him a thrashing.’

‘He was lucky,’ I said. ‘A few more minutes and he would have been nailed to a cross.’

‘You took a great risk, lord, riding into enemy territory with so few warriors.’ He looked at Rachel and Miriam. ‘And two women?’

I laughed. ‘We picked them up on our return journey.’

‘Ah, they are your slaves.’

‘Not slaves,’ I corrected him. ‘Guests.’

‘And now, lord, you must allow me to entertain you in my camp as my guests.’

With Aaron’s wounds dressed and the two women given their own horses we rode east once more to Vehrka’s camp. That night we were treated to roasted goat and warm camel milk as we sat round a raging fire with the Agraci lord and his warriors. Vehrka asked me to sit beside him but said little during the early part of the evening. Malik sat across the fire from us, between Domitus and Byrd who seemed his usual distant self.

‘Prince Malik will marry my daughter,’ said Vehrka quite unexpectedly.

‘Really?’ I was shocked. I had no idea that Malik was even seeing a woman let alone thinking of marrying one.

‘Her name is Jamal, which means “beauty”, and even though a father will always say that his daughter is attractive in this case it is true. It will be a good match.’

‘I am pleased for you.’

‘One day Malik will be king and she will be his queen and they will rule the whole of Arabia. It is their destiny.’

‘Malik is a great warrior,’ I agreed.

‘Haytham says that you are a great warrior, lord. I have heard of your many victories. But it is unwise to travel without a great number of your warriors with you. I shall therefore escort you back to Palmyra.’

With our new companions the rest of the journey through the desert was uneventful. It took twelve days to reach Palmyra, the pace slow due to the frequent halts we had to make to dress Aaron’s wounds and the fact that neither Rachel nor Miriam had ridden a horse before their escape from Judea. They conversed with Aaron but said very little to the rest of us, though Miriam especially was very polite to me as far as our inability to communicate allowed. She knew a few words and phrases of Latin on account of having had some conversations with the Romans in Jericho, and used them to speak with Domitus, who I think was pleased that he was no longer the poorest horseman among our group. As the days passed their conversations grew in length as they whiled away the hours in the saddle, the gaps filled in by Aaron who rode behind them beside Rachel. Domitus told me that Miriam’s husband had died of a plague that had ravaged Jericho and Judea several years ago and that she had struggled to keep a roof over her and her daughter’s heads, working in the fields and offering lodgings to travellers. She and Rachel slept in their small barn if they had house guests. She had frowned on Rachel seeing Aaron because she knew that he had joined the party of Alexander in the civil war. When the Romans came Aaron disappeared and unknown to her he had fled to Palmyra and then Dura. She had tears in her eyes when she told Domitus that she and her daughter would never be able to return to Judea.

‘We shall have to make them welcome at Dura, then,’ I told him. ‘Considering the great service that Aaron has rendered the kingdom it is the least we can do.’

We bade farewell to Vehrka and his warriors and rode into Haytham’s capital four days short of a month after we had left it for Judea. The king and Rasha were waiting for us at his tent, his young daughter delighted that I was paying her a visit.

‘Why are you dressed like one of my people?’ she asked as I slid off Remus’ back and embraced her.

‘I have been in disguise,’ I replied.

‘It was an adventure, then?’

I watched Domitus and Rachel assist a still very tender Aaron from his horse.

‘For some more than others. And you, what adventures have you been taking part in, little princess?’

She smiled excitedly and turned on her heels. ‘I will show you.’

She disappeared into the great goatskin tent of her father and re-emerged moments later carrying a recurve bow. It was a beautiful piece of work, with the arms and setback centre fashioned from layers of mulberry and maple with water buffalo horn plating on the inside. The handle and tips of the bow were stiffened with additional horn. The tips had been carved into horse’s heads and the wood and horn had been bound together by fish glue and tendon strings. The whole bow was covered in lacquer brought from China to keep it waterproof.

‘It was a present from Gallia,’ she said, holding it out to me.

I took it and admired the craftsmanship. It would have taken the armouries at least ten months to produce such a weapon, to prepare the tendons, woods and glue and then mate them all together. It was a fitting gift for a princess.

I passed it back to her. ‘A beautiful bow for a beautiful princess.’ Rasha took the bow, kissed me on the cheek and then blushed before taking it back inside.

‘Gallia spoils her, I fear,’ remarked Haytham.

‘We love her as if she were one of our own daughters, lord.’

‘So, tell me of your journey to the land of the Jews.’

We went inside as Aaron and the two women were shown to a guest tent where Aaron’s wounds could once again be treated. He seemed to have regained some of his strength and I no longer feared for his life.

‘What about your life, Pacorus,’ said Haytham, ‘or the lives of Gallia and your children, will you not fear for them when the Romans find out that the armouries at Dura have been furnishing their enemies with weapons?’

‘I have thought of that, lord, but the Romans are already my enemies so if I can keep them occupied in their own domains then hopefully they will not trouble Dura.’

‘It may be as you say. But know that Vehrka has already had several Roman incursions into his lands, mostly small patrols of horsemen. It will not be long before more will come, of that I am certain.’

‘And then?’

He smiled savagely. ‘And then I will lead the Agraci against them.’

‘And Dura will stand beside you,’ I announced grandly.

‘And your father and your allies will stand beside you?’

I was unsure whether Hatra would get embroiled in a war supporting the Agraci. ‘I hope so, lord.’

‘And the Jews, do you think they will throw off the Roman yoke?’

I thought of the ragged individuals we had met, the shattered fortress where we had encountered Alexander and Domitus’ comment about the lack of bridges across the Jordan. Then I thought of the two legions that were stationed in Syria and the others that the Romans could send as reinforcements.

‘I hope so, lord, I sincerely hope so,’ was all I could offer.

He pondered for a moment. ‘Hope will avail them not in a battle with the Roman army.’

He was right, of course, but I had seen some of the gold that Alexander possessed. With the right weapons, the right timing and the support of the people they might just be victorious. They might just be able to win their freedom.

When we returned to Dura Aaron and his future wife and mother-in-law were settled in a house near Rsan’s mansion in the city and he continued to make a rapid recovery. Rsan himself was extremely happy with the outcome of our expedition to Judea and had already drawn up a delivery schedule for Alexander’s weapons. Following discussions with the chief armourer he had informed me that it would over a year to fulfil Alexander’s requirements. Byrd had accompanied us back to Dura and had come to an agreement with Rsan with regard to the transportation of the weapons to the Jews. We would be using Byrd’s camels to carry them west to Palmyra, then directly south into the desert and through the volcanic mountains southwest of Damascus, before heading due west again to the mountains that lay to the east of the Salt Sea. Malik and Rasha had travelled back to Dura with us and Rsan had also come to an agreement with Malik whereby his Agraci warriors would provide an escort for each camel train. The cost of hiring Byrd’s camels and Malik’s warriors was to be borne by Alexander, meaning Dura would make a handsome profit on each shipment of weapons. After all the sums had been done Rsan was the happiest I had ever seen him. Aaron said that he would travel with the first shipment, which would be ready in two months’ time, by which time his wounds would be fully healed. The treasury would be full, Silaces’ men would be fully equipped and I could begin to plan a new campaign in the east.

‘The Jews are a beaten people,’ scoffed Dobbai as she stood beside me atop the Palmyrene Gate a week later.

‘You do not agree the Jews are beaten?’ Dobbai pressed me.

‘Mm?’

‘The Jews. I said that they are a beaten people.’

We were standing next to the stone griffin with its unceasing guard over my city and kingdom. Dobbai was leaning against it as a column of Dura’s horsemen approached the city following manoeuvres in the desert.

‘Perhaps with my help they may be a free people,’ I said.

‘You have shown imagination in reaching an agreement with this Alexander, but it will not help the Jews.’ She cast me a sideways glance. ‘Though it may aid you.’

The approaching column of horsemen wheeled away from the city two hundred yards from the Palmyrene Gate to return to their quarters south of Dura. A small group of horsemen had halted to take their salute and then they about-faced and rode to the city.

‘It has aided me,’ I said. ‘With the Jewish gold I can rearm the legions and Silaces’ men and deal with Mithridates once and for all.’

The horsemen entering the city were led by Surena, who spotted me standing above the gates and drew his sword to salute me. I raised my hand in recognition. He lived in the city with Viper in accommodation befitting his rank as the commander of my horse archers. I smiled at him as he passed under us.

‘You like him, do you not?’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘He has turned into a fine officer. He is brave, quick witted and has a brain in his head. I never thought I would find a replacement for Nergal, but Shamash has given me one.’

‘His destiny and yours do not follow the same path, son of Hatra,’ she said. ‘You must release him.’

I was confused. ‘He is not a slave to do my bidding. He serves me of his own free will.’

‘That may be, but while he does so he does not serve the empire.’

‘I do not understand.’

She waved her hand at me. ‘You will learn that later. By the way, when were you going to tell me that Claudia had spoken to you?’

‘How do you know that, has she spoken to you too?’

She raised an eyebrow at me. ‘I asked you a polite question, why do you answer so flippantly?’

I had tried to erase the memory of my experience at the Temple of Ishtar from my mind, notwithstanding that the prophecy of the temple gold had come to fruition, which in many ways made it worse.

‘I did not think it was of importance.’

‘Really?’ she said in surprise. ‘And yet you thought it important enough to venture to Judea on the word of a Jew who you have known barely a moment. Clearly you attach a great deal of credence to Claudia’s words, as you should. What else did she tell you?’

‘Nothing,’ I snapped.

‘Your disrespectful reply suggests otherwise.’

I said nothing but stared at the legionary camp in the distance. She shuffled away from me.

‘Have it your own way, son of Hatra. But disregard her words at your peril.’

But the words of Claudia were far from my mind as the weeks passed and the armouries operated at full capacity once the first payment of gold arrived at Dura. Aaron had travelled back to Palmyra and then south through the desert, this time with over a hundred Agraci horsemen acting as his escort, before meeting with Alexander twenty miles east of Machaerus. It had been previously agreed that Alexander would make the first payment before the first shipment of weapons as a sign of his good faith, and so Aaron brought back with him fifty large leather bags full of gold. Once it had been itemised and safely deposited in the treasury, camels were taken to the armouries and loaded with arms.

The armouries needed to manufacture per day twenty-five of each of the following types of weapon: gladius and scabbard, spear, dagger and sheath and helmet. Over a fifteen-month period this would be enough to equip ten thousand men. And Alexander also wanted a thousand mail shirts for horsemen. It was fortunate for Dura that the armouries were staffed by four hundred blacksmiths, each one having an apprentice that had begun his training in metal craft at the age of eight. Even so the pace of production was frenetic and the chief armourer, a squat, barrel-chested man named Arsam, made frequent complaints that the requirements of the army and the monthly shipments to ‘the rich Jew’ were placing an intolerable strain on his ironworks. Arsam had forearms as thick as stone pillars and his name ironically meant ‘possessing the strength of heroes’. I told him to hire additional workers from Babylon and Hatra if he wished, though not from Damascus. I had no doubt that eventually the Romans would discover that I was sending weapons to Judea, but hiring workers from Syria would ensure they would find out sooner rather than later.

Domitus continued to rebuild the legions, finally receiving his five thousand ‘missing’ javelins. Meanwhile the horse archers of Silaces began to fill their quivers as the armouries churned out thousands of arrows. It was fortunate that the arrowheads were made of bronze and were cast rather than forged and then shaped on anvils. This way Arsam could order additional quantities from Babylon and have them transported by camel to Dura.

As a reward for his services to Dura I made Aaron the royal treasurer, as Rsan was now the city governor. As the old year waned Dura slowly became one of the richest kingdoms in the empire as the caravans on the Silk Road passed through the city and Alexander’s gold arrived at the Citadel. The reports I received from Babylon, Uruk and Hatra reported no hostile activity east of the Tigris, and in the west all was quiet in Roman Syria and Judea. No doubt Mithridates and Narses were licking their wounds and preparing a fresh campaign against me, but the longer they delayed the stronger Dura became.

When the new year dawned I once again refused to pay the annual tribute demanded of each kingdom by the king of kings. I received word from Nergal, Axsen and my father that Mithridates had demanded twice the normal tribute so he could deal with the ‘traitorous King of Dura’. Apparently he could not bear to even mention my name in his royal proclamation.

Hatra, Babylon and Mesene declared that they were unable to meet his demands. My father stated that he was dealing with Armenian incursions into the north of his kingdom and invited Mithridates to send an official letter to the Armenian king, Tigranes, politely requesting that he desist his aggressive actions. For her part Axsen stated that her kingdom could not afford the additional tribute as resources were being directed to repairing the damage incurred during the invasion of her lands the previous year. Though she was diplomatic enough to refrain from stating that it was the king of kings and his lord high general who were responsible for the damage. Nergal did not even bother to reply to Mithridates’ demands.

The prospect of war hung over us like thick smoke on a windless day, and we prepared our forces accordingly. The men of Elymais were fully equipped now — eight thousand horse archers divided into eight dragons, each one made up of ten hundred-man companies. Silaces and his men trained every day to turn them into an effective force, though there was not the time to train them to work with the cataphracts, much less the legions. In any case I hoped that in the near future they would be in the vanguard of an army that would liberate the Kingdom of Elymais. They were quartered near the ruins of Mari, forty miles south of Dura beside the Euphrates. It had once been a great city but that was seventeen hundred years ago, and after its destruction by King Hammurabi of Babylon had been largely deserted. The remains of its mud-brick buildings provided adequate shelter for eight thousand horses, though.

Two months into the new year I had the whole army drawn up in front of the Palmyrene Gate and presented Silaces with his new banner: a great white flag upon which was Gotarzes’ symbol of a four-pointed star. I could now call upon over twelve thousand horsemen and ten thousand foot, in addition to the men the lords could raise. Last year I had relied on speed and surprise to achieve success; this year I would assemble greater numbers to ensure victory.

Orodes made yet another trip to Babylon, this time to ensure that the production of arrowheads was progressing smoothly. I told him that he did not need to concern himself with such trivia but he insisted. And to speed his journey he and his bodyguard plus their horses travelled down the Euphrates on rafts.

While he was gone I had a most unexpected visit from my father. He sent word that he was visiting me and arrived ten days later accompanied by Vistaspa and his bodyguard plus their squires, who camped across the Euphrates in Hatran territory while their king and his general were lodged in the Citadel. Gallia and I greeted them at the foot of the palace steps in the company of Domitus, Surena, Rsan, Aaron and my three daughters. My father kissed Gallia and knelt to embrace his granddaughters while Vistaspa bowed his head to everyone stiffly and ignored my children. I think he thought infants were small demons sent to torment adults, a view that was not entirely incorrect.

We took refreshments on the palace terrace as a forest of tents began to spring up across the river as the squires of Hatra’s royal bodyguard erected the shelters of their pampered masters.

My father flopped down in a wicker chair next to the stone balustrade. He looked tired. ‘I wish to make a show of force against the Armenians. I grow weary of their incursions into my kingdom, and the longer I do nothing about them the bolder they become.’

To say I was surprised was an understatement. My father had always been a cautious monarch, always reluctant to seek recourse to conflict.

‘I had no idea the Armenians were proving so bothersome, father.’

He smiled wryly. ‘Vata holds the northern frontier but now raiders are coming from Gordyene. It has become an intolerable situation. I have asked Farhad and Aschek for their assistance and they have agreed that we should arrange a meeting with Tigranes to sort this matter out once and for all. I now ask you, my son, if you will join with me.’

‘Dura stands by you, father,’ I said with pride. ‘When do we attack?’

Vistaspa looked at my father, who frowned. ‘We do not go to make war, Pacorus, but to persuade Tigranes that his recklessness endangers Armenia.’

‘You will be wasting your words.’ Dobbai had walked unseen onto the terrace and took her seat, unconcerned that my senior officers and I were in conference with the King of Hatra. She waved over a servant holding a tray of drinks.

‘Armenia is the slave of Rome, even I know that.’ She took a silver cup filled with wine and sipped at it as my father regarded her with curiosity and Vistaspa glowered at her.

‘Do you suggest I declare war on Rome, then?’ asked my father, trying to out-fox her.

‘War is coming with Rome whatever you do,’ she replied. ‘The question is, when it comes will the empire be united or divided?’

‘I can see where my son gets his advice from,’ said my father dryly, ‘advice that nearly led to his death last year at the Tigris.’

‘I told him not to underestimate Mithridates and Narses, he chose to ignore that advice,’ she snapped back.

I held up my hands. ‘We are straying from the matter at hand. When do you meet the Armenians?’

‘I have sent a message demanding a meeting with Tigranes at his southern border in a month’s time,’ said my father.

‘The army of Dura will be there, father, I guarantee you that; though I am surprised that Aschek and Farhad have agreed to support you.’

‘Raiders from Gordyene have also been attacking Media and Atropaiene,’ said Vistaspa.

‘Gordyene is like an abscess,’ complained my father.

‘And where does the king of kings stand in this matter?’ I asked. ‘His empire is assaulted and all he can do is demand more money to raise an army to march against Dura.’

My father shook his head. ‘Mithridates will not support me after I supported you last year.’

‘And when Pacorus is away in the north, father,’ said Gallia, ‘what is to prevent Mithridates and Narses marching against Dura?’

‘A wise question, child,’ said Dobbai, looking at my father.

‘Mithridates is a coward,’ I said. ‘He will not march through Babylonian and Hatran territory to attack Dura and thereby risk outright war with those two kingdoms having been worsted by them last year. Had he desired that he would have marched against me a long time ago. No, he will bide his time and let others do his work.’

‘Mithridates will not attack you, Pacorus,’ said my father. ‘After all, you have Babylon and Mesene behind you, to say nothing of Haytham and his hordes.’

‘Is it not curious,’ mused Dobbai, ‘that had it not have been for Mithridates taking the daughter of Haytham hostage when he ruled this city, Pacorus might never have forged an alliance with the Agraci. The gods weave their magic in most curious ways.’

My father regarded Dobbai guardedly. ‘Well, be that as it may, I doubt that Dura will face any problems while you are away.’

He was probably right, but in the days following his departure I appointed Marcus as Rsan’s deputy and instructed him to mount his smaller ballista on the towers on the city walls that faced west. Deep wadis were immediately beyond the city’s north and south walls and at the bottom of the rock escarpment upon which the Citadel sat was the Euphrates. An attack against the city could only be mounted against its western wall. I thought it highly unlikely but it was better to be safe than sorry.

The replacement cohort would act as the garrison while the army was away. It consisted mostly of green recruits who received basic training before being allocated to either the Durans or Exiles. There was also the walking wounded who had received injuries in training or who were suffering from fever and similar ailments. Too sick to go on campaign, they were quite capable of undertaking garrison duty. Dobbai had told Gallia that there would no fighting with the Armenians and so she decided to stay in the city, which meant her Amazons could use their bows against any attackers.

Peace or war, training continued as usual. Each day was the same routine for legionaries and horsemen — wake, wash, attend to the horses if a cavalryman, eat breakfast, morning parade and roll-call, camp duties, such as cleaning the latrines, hours spent drilling and training, bedding down the horses, evening meal and bed. The time between evening meal and bed was usually filled with cleaning weapons and equipment, though the married soldiers usually also found time to visit their wives and children in the city. It was certainly an austere life but one that was rewarded with ample amounts of good food, regular pay, the best weapons and equipment that gold could buy and the knowledge that they were part of what I believed to be the best army in the world. And at the apex of the army was a figure feared and respected throughout the kingdom, a man who was the benchmark when it came to professionalism, discipline and fighting prowess. A man that was harder than the blade of the gladius he wore at his hip — Lucius Domitus.

I was in the Citadel’s courtyard discussing with Rsan the licensing of brothels in the city when Orodes and Surena rode through the gates and jumped from their horses.

‘The queen won’t approve,’ I said, ‘but the fact is that thousands of young men travelling with the caravans pass through Dura each year, and when they stop here they seek the company of prostitutes.’

‘It is as you say, majesty,’ agreed Rsan gravely.

‘So the treasury might as well benefit from their brisk trade.’

Rsan nodded approvingly. ‘I was thinking of a licence for each brothel, majesty, renewable each year.’

I saw Orodes and Surena pass the reins of their horses to waiting squires and then walk towards us.

‘Good, Rsan. I leave the matter in your capable hands.’

‘It was actually Aaron’s idea, majesty. He has proved a most useful addition to the administration here.’

He bowed and went back to the treasury as Surena and Orodes appeared in front of me.

‘I think you should ride to the legionary camp immediately, Pacorus,’ said Orodes.

‘Grave news, lord,’ added Surena.

‘What is it?’ I said, concerned.

‘It would appear that Domitus has a woman,’ said Orodes seriously.

I looked at them both, suddenly grinning like mischievous children. ‘What nonsense is this?’

‘No nonsense, lord,’ said Surena. ‘He has been spotted walking with a woman, in camp.’

‘I think you should investigate immediately,’ suggested Orodes.

The idea that Domitus would have a woman was a ridiculous notion. He was married to the army, unyielding, iron-hard, devoid of emotion. The whole army looked up to him; indeed, the whole kingdom held him in high esteem.

‘Impossible,’ I said. ‘I have known that man for thirteen years and in all that time he has shown no interest in the opposite sex.’

Orodes held up his hands. ‘Have it your own way, but I have it on good authority that he is in camp with her as we speak.’

‘You should ride to the camp and see for yourself, lord,’ urged Surena. ‘Everyone is talking about it.’

‘We will be marching north soon,’ I said, ‘and I have better things to do than indulge in idle gossip. And so do you two.’

‘Actually,’ remarked Orodes, ‘I don’t. Your cataphracts are fully prepared and Strabo has ensured that the horses, camels and men are fully provisioned.’

‘As are my horse archers, lord,’ added Surena, a self-satisfied smug look on his face.

‘But the legions may not be,’ said Orodes casually.

‘Oh? Why not?’

He feigned ignorance. ‘Well, if Domitus is distracted then who knows what might happen? His men might arrive in Nisibus without javelins, or helmets even.’

I decided to put a stop to this frivolity right away.

‘I am riding to the camp and you two are coming with me,’ I commanded.

The three of us rode from the city and into camp, leaving our horses at the stables near the workshops. Domitus was not in his headquarters tent and the sentries standing guard outside did not know of his whereabouts.

‘Bad sign that, Pacorus,’ remarked Orodes.

‘Please be quiet,’ I replied.

‘Perhaps he has been kidnapped,’ suggested Surena.

I turned to face them both. ‘Listen you two, I hope Domitus is not out on manoeuvres and you have dragged me here for some sort of joke.’

Orodes looked most alarmed. ‘Joke, Pacorus? I hardly think the corruption of the commander of the army is a joke.’

At that moment I saw Drenis striding across the parade square adjacent to the headquarters tent. He saluted when he saw me.

‘Drenis,’ I said, ‘have you seen Domitus?’

Orodes and Surena both smiled at him but he ignored them.

‘I saw him go in the griffin’s tent a few moments ago.’

‘Thank you,’ I replied, relieved.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Of course, thank you. How are the men?’

He winked. ‘Lean and mean and itching for a bit of revenge. They’ve never fought Armenians before.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘let us hope that it won’t come to fighting.’

‘If that is all, Pacorus?’ Drenis was not one for small talk.

I nodded. He saluted and then went about his business as we strolled over to the tent that housed the golden griffin standard of the Duran Legion. Guards ringed it and there were more guards inside to watch over what had become the religious totem of the Durans. The Exiles had their own emblem, a silver lion that also had its own guarded tent nearby. The legionaries at the entrance snapped to attention as we removed our headgear and went inside.

There, positioned in the middle of the tent and held in place by a stand, was the griffin that had been cast in gold sitting on its metal plate, bold, defiant and seemingly about to fly. The atmosphere inside the tent was still and dripping with reverence, as though the griffin was holding court. This was as it should be for it was the symbol of Dura and, like the statue at the Palmyrene Gate, as long as it existed no harm would come to the city. And there, standing before it, helmet in the crook of his arm, straight as the shaft of an arrow, was Domitus. And beside him was standing a woman dressed in a long blue robe and with a white head cloth descending down her back. He was speaking to her slowly in Latin.

‘And ever since it was presented to them my soldiers believe that it has magic powers, and that as long as it remains unharmed they and the kingdom are safe.’

‘They worship it?’ asked the woman, whose voice I recognised.

‘Some do, believing it to be sacred object; others look upon it as a good luck charm. But they would all die to protect it.’

‘My religion teaches that it is wrong to worship idols.’

‘Each to his own, I say,’ replied Domitus whose instincts told him that there were others in the tent behind him. He turned round to see the three of us standing in a row like legionaries waiting to be disciplined. The woman also turned and I saw that it was Miriam, the mother of Aaron’s future wife.

Domitus was dressed in his full parade uniform. Though he was now a general he had never abandoned the uniform of a centurion that he now wore: mail shirt adorned with silver discs, silver-edged greaves and helmet with a white transverse crest, the colour of Dura’s army. His gladius was in its scabbard at his left hip, dagger at his right and his trusty vine cane in his right hand. He looked at us all suspiciously.

‘Come to pay your respects, have you?’

I cleared my throat. ‘Yes, sort of.’ I smiled at Miriam and spoke to her in Latin. ‘How are you, Miriam?’

She bowed her head. ‘I am well, majesty.’

‘I hope Domitus is treating you well.’

She smiled at my general. ‘He has great civility, majesty.’

Orodes cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. Like Surena he had been wearing a dumb smile.

‘Are you not going to introduce me, Domitus?’

Domitus looked most uncomfortable, sighing deeply.

‘Miriam, this is Prince Orodes of Susiana, a land to the east of the River Tigris and…’

Orodes stepped forward, took Miriam’s hand and kissed it, much to her surprise and slight shock.

‘And I am delighted to meet you. Domitus has been remiss in keeping you from my presence.’

Like all Parthian nobility he could speak Latin, Greek and of course Parthian, but he now proceeded to converse with Miriam in Aramaic, which clearly delighted her. Before she was stiff and formal but now she smiled and was relaxed. Orodes could charm the birds from the trees when he had a mind to. Domitus was not amused and stood in sullen silence as the two of them chatted away.

‘I think we have taken up too much of Miriam’s time,’ I said at last.

‘You certainly have,’ growled Domitus. ‘Don’t you three have any stables to muck out?’

I was slightly embarrassed about our intrusion into their company. ‘Apologies, Domitus, we did not mean to disturb you.’ I turned to Miriam. ‘I hope Dura is agreeable to you and your daughter, lady. Know that you are both very welcome here.’

‘Thank you, majesty.’

Orodes insisted that he kiss the hand of Miriam once again as we took our leave of her and Domitus. Surena had moved towards the griffin and stretched out his hand to touch it. He stopped and looked at Domitus. The last time he had been this near to the treasured icon he had been an ill-kempt boy from the marshlands and his dirty hand had been brushed away from the standard before he could touch it. That was over five years ago and in that time the boy had become a man and a leader of other men. He had saved my life on the battlefield and had risen to become the commander of all my horse archers. And yet he still hesitated to lay his hand upon the golden creature.

‘You’ve earned it,’ said Domitus.

Surena grinned in triumph and gently laid his hand on the griffin’s head, then turned and walked from the tent. Miriam looked at him leaving and then back at the griffin sitting on its metal plate. She did not understand, much less when both Orodes and I bowed our heads to it before we also departed.

During the days following wagons were loaded with food, tools, tents, spare javelins, swords, mail shirts and helmets, clothing and shields. The wagons we had lost during our battles with Mithridates and Narses had been replaced at considerable cost, and mule numbers had been brought up to strength from the royal estates. Even the stakes that were used to surround the camp each night had had to be made afresh, to be once again carried on the backs of mules.

Strabo had been at the warehouses on the royal estates every day to ensure that the mounts of the cataphracts, horse archers and the camels had sufficient fodder to sustain them during the coming campaign, and stables echoed with the sound of red-hot iron being beaten on anvils to re-shoe horses.

A week before we departed Gallia and I were invited to a pleasant diversion: the wedding between Aaron and Rachel. The ceremony took place in Rsan’s mansion a short distance from the Citadel and near to the former residence of Godarz. This had remained empty since that dreadful night when our friend had been murdered. I had broached the subject of it being used again but Gallia would not hear of it and so, aside from a few gardeners to maintain the grounds and a small number of cleaners who went in each week, Godarz’s mansion remained empty, a shrine to the man who had been like a father to her.

Rsan’s mansion was similar to that of Godarz’s with a courtyard fronting the main residence and a wall surrounding both. There were stables, a small barracks and a gatehouse. The actual wedding ceremony took place in a garden complete with fountains and fish-filled ponds positioned to the rear of the main reception hall. As well as Greeks, Parthians, Agraci and Syrians, Dura also contained a small Jewish community, and so Gallia had requested its leaders attend the Citadel to acquaint her with the wedding ritual we had been invited to.

We walked to Rsan’s mansion as the sun was descending in the west and casting long shadows amid the buildings. Gallia was dressed in a simple long-sleeved blue dress and had her hair gathered on top of her head and held in place by a gold diadem.

‘Guests are expected to dress modestly, Pacorus, and keep their flesh covered.’

‘Malik will have no problems getting in, then,’ I remarked.

Malik had been invited because he had carried Rachel to safety on the back of his horse after we had rescued Aaron outside Jericho.

‘He will be one of the witnesses,’ she told me. ‘The other one will be Domitus, who carried Miriam to safety.’

We joined the other wedding guests in the fragrant garden as the dusk was approaching. We greeted Byrd and Noora who had come from Palmyra, Surena, who had also been a member of the party that had travelled to Judea, and Rsan. The other guests were the Jewish men and women who lived in Dura. We were asked by a Jewish man with a long grey beard to assemble under a great canopy that had been erected in the garden.

‘It is open on all four sides so that all may be made welcome,’ Gallia informed me. ‘The old man with a beard is one of their priests, a rabbi they call him.’

As we gathered under the white canopy Aaron and Rachel appeared in the roofed aisle supported by marble columns that surrounded the garden on all four sides. Both of them were dressed in white and beside them walked Miriam, also dressed in white, and Domitus, who was wearing a fine white tunic, a rich blue cloak draped over his left shoulder and arm and held in place by a gold broach, and blue boots. I scarcely recognised him!

‘The bride and groom wear white to resemble royalty and cleanliness of sin,’ said Gallia. ‘They will have fasted today and recited psalms together to ask god for his forgiveness for their transgressions. In this way they both enter their marriage fully cleansed.’

‘And starving,’ I added. She jabbed me in the ribs with a finger to indicate her disapproval of my levity.

The rabbi gestured to all of us beneath the canopy to come closer as the sky darkened and servants lit oil lamps hanging from the columns to illuminate the scene. Rachel’s face was covered with a veil, which Gallia explained was a sign of her modesty, while Aaron had a prayer shawl over his head.

‘It is a strange time of day to have a wedding,’ I whispered to her.

‘It is so the couple may see the stars and be reminded of the blessing their god gave to Abraham that his children would be as numerous as the stars.’

‘Who is Abraham?’

‘One of the first of the Jewish people to have lived on the earth, many thousands of years ago.’

Rachel and Aaron stood beneath the centre of the canopy and then Rachel circled him seven times.

‘In the teachings of the Jewish religion,’ whispered Gallia, ‘it is stated that god created the world in seven days. So Rachel circling Aaron thus ensures that their god blesses their union.’

After this had been completed Aaron produced a simple gold ring and gave it to Rachel. The rabbi announced that this symbolised that the pair were now married. I looked at Gallia and thought of our own wedding and everything that had happened before and since, and reached for her hand. The world was divided into many different religions and races but whatever language people spoke or gods they worshipped, in the end everyone was on the same quest — to find someone to share their life with.

My thoughts were interrupted by the rabbi’s deep voice reading the marriage contract, called a ketubah. This was a most curious part of the ceremony in which the rabbi read from a document that listed all the responsibilities the husband had towards his wife, after which it was signed by the groom and the two witnesses. The rabbi then recited a number of blessings that were repeated by the assembled congregation and then Aaron and Rachel, now minus her veil, drank from the same cup of wine as they held hands. The rabbi then took the prayer shawl that had been adorning Aaron’s head and wrapped it round the couple’s hands to symbolise their union before god.

After the ceremony we went into Rsan’s banqueting room and sat at tables where we were served chicken, lamb, fruits and wine. During the meal Aaron and Rachel served us portions of Jewish bread named challah, which Gallia informed me was made from eggs, flour, water and yeast. The bread was braided to resemble arms intertwined to symbolise love.

I sat next to Orodes as jugglers in bright clothing threw knives in the air in front of us and musicians played in accompaniment to the dazzle of flashing blades.

‘You think your father will fight the Armenians, Pacorus?’

‘No. He wishes to avoid war if he can. He seeks to overawe the Armenians with a show of strength.’

‘And you?’

I laughed. ‘I think the way to overawe them is to destroy their army and march on their capital.’

‘They have the Romans behind them,’ said Orodes with concern, ‘and there are Roman troops in Syria also.’

‘Their general Pompey, who we met at the Euphrates, has returned to Rome and disbanded his army, I hear. He had formed some sort of alliance with Crassus and another man named Caesar, but there are reports that Rome is divided between different factions.’

He looked confused. ‘What has this to do with the Armenians?’

‘If the Romans are preoccupied with internal politics they will be less focused on the east. That will hopefully make the Armenians more likely to see sense.’

‘The Armenians will know that the Parthian Empire is also riven with internal disputes, Pacorus.’

I pushed a piece of spicy chicken breast into my mouth. ‘That will need addressing after we have dealt with the Armenians.’

‘You still mean to attack Mithridates, then?’

I smiled at him. ‘Naturally. He still has to pay for trying to assassinate me, to say nothing of the deaths of Gotarzes and Vardan, and your father. And then there is the matter of you regaining your rightful place on the throne of Susiana.’

He took a swig of wine from his jewel-encrusted goblet then admired it, turning it in his hand.

‘No one has the stomach for such a fight, Pacorus, aside from you. Even your father shrinks back from making war on Mithridates and Hatra has one of the most feared armies in the empire.’

‘And what of Babylon?’ I asked him.

‘Babylon?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You have been spending so much time there of late that I was wondering if Axsen had made you the commander of her palace guard.’

He blushed and turned away. ‘I do not know what you mean.’

‘Will Axsen support Dura if I march east?’

He quickly regained his composure. I had no idea why he had become so flustered.

‘Babylon will support you but will not be able to lend you any troops for a campaign against Mithridates. Axsen has to look to her own defences first. Nergal is in a similar position, I fear.’

I nodded. ‘It will be only a matter of time before Mithridates and Narses attacks Babylon and Mesene. That is why we must strike the first blow.’

It was like a great game of strategy and the whole empire was the playing board. Mithridates had the active support of Narses of Persis and Sakastan, his co-conspirator, King Phriapatius of Carmania, King Vologases of Drangiana, King Cinnamus of Anauon, King Tiridates of Aria and King Monaeses of Yueh-Chih, the kingdoms in the eastern half of the empire. Dura was but a tiny speck compared to their vastness, but I had powerful friends, if not actual allies, in Hatra, King Musa of Hyrcania and above all King Khosrou of Margiana. And there was Mesene under Nergal and Axsen’s Babylon, while to the north stood the kingdoms of Media and Atropaiene ruled by Farhad and Aschek respectively.

Unfortunately for me both Musa and Khosrou were at this moment engaged in a great campaign against the wild peoples who lived on the vast steppes between the Caspian and Aral seas. They had mustered over one hundred thousand horsemen between them to stop the raids that had been increasing in intensity over the last two years. Dobbai had derided the notion that the nomads could be destroyed and thought Musa and Khosrou fools. Whether they were or not remained to be seen, but while they were occupied in the north they could not aid me.

Aschek and Farhad were old friends of my father and tended to go along with what Hatra desired, and at the present moment in time my father desired their presence at Nisibus to present a united front against the Armenians, another piece on the board of the great game of strategy that I was also a part of. And to the east, in Syria and Judea, were the Romans; while between them and Dura were Haytham’s Agraci. The game was finely poised at a temporary stalemate, but soon enough the pieces would be moving again.

‘They make a nice couple, do they not?’

‘Mmm?’

‘Are you listening, Pacorus?’

I smiled at Gallia. Of course I had not been. ‘Of course, my love.’

She leaned towards me and nodded at the top table where a lean poet with a wispy beard was reciting some rather long and frankly pompous verses to the newlyweds. They did not care because they were in love. He could have been reading the list of items for the feast, which would probably have been more interesting.

‘Of course they make a nice couple, they have just got married,’ I replied.

‘Not Aaron and Rachel. Domitus and Miriam.’

I sighed loudly. ‘Not you as well. Has Orodes put you up to this?’

She looked at me in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I had him and Surena bending my ear about Domitus and Miriam and now you are harping on about them.’

‘First of all, I don’t harp on as you so quaintly put it. Harping insinuates idle and irritating gossip and I indulge in neither. On the contrary I make informed judgements on what I have observed.’

I drank some more wine. ‘Then I will tell you what I told them. Domitus, who by the way must be over fifty years old, is already married to the army. He’s set in his ways and that’s just the way I like it. He’s happy, I’m happy and that is that.’

‘I don’t think Domitus is happy at all,’ she replied. ‘He works so hard because it fills the loneliness in his life.’

‘This is Domitus we are talking about, the fiercest warrior on both sides of the Euphrates.’

‘He deserves to be happy,’ she persisted.

‘He is happy. He would tell me if he were not.

‘You know so little about the heart, Pacorus. Do you really think he would tell you, his lord and friend, that he craves love like the most humble and simplest man in the kingdom? And he is not the only one.’

This was ridiculous. ‘Don’t tell me, all my centurions are lonely.’

She sat back in her chair and raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Do not try to be clever; it does not suit you. Fortunately I have affairs in hand so you can concentrate on frightening the Armenians.’

She ran a finger down my scarred cheek. ‘That shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Is the marsh boy going with you?’

‘Surena? Of course. He is a fine commander, would you not agree, Orodes?’

Orodes cupped his ear to hear above the din of the wedding feast. ‘Agree with what?’

‘That Surena is an excellent commander.’

He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Most excellent, yes.’

‘Perhaps you should give him his own army, then,’ suggested Gallia.

I looked at her. ‘What did you say?’

‘Give the marsh boy his own army.’

My blood ran cold and I was taken back to the voice that had spoken to me in the Temple of Ishtar.

The one born in the land of water must be given his own army.

I said no more on the matter of Surena but as I sat there surrounded by laughter and merriment I knew that the first part of what the voice had told me, and I still refused to believe that it was Claudia, had come to fruition. I had followed Aaron to Judea and now the gold from the temple of Jerusalem was helping me to finance the army. But there was no other army for Surena to command, no kingdom of his own from which he could draw recruits. The idea was preposterous. Then again no more preposterous than a simple boy from the great marsh lands of what had been southern Mesene rising to become the commander of Dura’s horse archers.

Rather than drive myself to distraction with such thoughts I pushed them to the back of my mind, drank more wine, slipped my arm round my wife’s waist and enjoyed the rest of the evening. Two days later, nearly a year to the day since I had set out on the fateful campaign against Mithridates that had nearly resulted in my death, I once again led the army across the pontoon bridges that spanned the Euphrates. This time it headed north along the eastern bank of the river, a great column of foot soldiers, camels, wagons and horsemen that stretched over twenty miles. It was time to show our strength to the Armenians.