The eyes of my wife, Claudia, Rasha and Dobbai bored into me to indicate that my attempt at levity had failed miserably.
Haytham laughed. ‘You are a brave man, Pacorus, to make such a statement in front of so many women.’
‘Foolish is a word that would be more suitable,’ growled Gallia.
I had asked Spartacus and Scarab to be present so they could both meet Haytham, which for the young prince was at first difficult. He had been brought up in Hatra where the Agraci were looked upon as little more than pests to be exterminated. It was well known that I had forged an alliance and friendship with the Agraci ruler but this had resulted in Hatran opinion of me being lowered. To most Parthians the Euphrates marked the boundary where civilisation ended and barbarity began. Spartacus had been surprised when I had informed him that Haytham was visiting the palace and astounded when I told him that Rasha had her own room there.
Rasha was now a stunning young woman with hair as black as the night, flawless skin and the most beautiful brown eyes. When she had arrived, those eyes lingered upon the handsome face of the young prince who was introduced to her. He in turn had bowed most graciously to her and had insisted on escorting her into the palace. I had been worried that he might be aloof with Haytham and Rasha but her striking looks were enough to make him forget her race easily enough.
‘How is Byrd?’ enquired Gallia.
‘Rich and growing richer,’ replied Haytham. ‘Perhaps one day he will be able to purchase a new robe. He has gone to Antioch to inspect his offices there.’
‘I hope he will be safe,’ I said with alarm.
Haytham laughed. ‘They will think that he is desert lord, nothing more. No one will know that he is the chief scout and close friend of King Pacorus, lord high general of Parthia. He will outlive us all, of that I am sure.’
‘Hopefully he will learn more about the arrival of Crassus,’ I said.
‘I remember that name,’ reflected Haytham. ‘He once tried to bribe me to permit a Roman army to march through my territory to attack Dura. And now he comes himself.’
‘It is the will of the gods,’ announced Dobbai, ‘that the son of Hatra and Crassus should battle each other to determine the fate of the empire. The forthcoming clash between these two great warlords will be watched by the divine ones and the victor will be granted his wish.’
‘Surely the victor will have already been granted his wish,’ I said, ‘for he will have vanquished his foes.’
She threw back her head and cackled. ‘And after the slaughter; what then? It is your destiny, your fate to fight Crassus, son of Hatra, but what do you wish for in the next life?’
I was confused. ‘The next life?’
She beckoned Claudia to help her get out of her chair. ‘When all of us are ashes and dust, when we are not even someone’s memories, where would you be then, wandering alone for all eternity or with your friends and loved ones?’
‘With my friends and loved ones, of course.’
She took Claudia’s arm and then shuffled from the terrace. ‘Exactly. So fight well, son of Hatra, and the gods will reward you.’
Haytham looked contemplative and Gallia confused, while Spartacus and Rasha glanced at each other furtively and thought of nothing but their attraction to each other.
‘You must kill this Crassus when he arrives,’ declared Haytham after a long silence.
‘I would rather destroy his army, lord,’ I replied. ‘Besides, I have to say that I quite like him.’
Haytham was shocked. ‘A great warlord shows his enemies no mercy.’
I smiled at him. ‘I remember a time when a small group rode into the desert and returned a daughter to the King of Agraci. He did not kill them.’
He winked at Gallia. ‘That is because the beauty of your wife intoxicated me and made me forget that we were enemies.’
Gallia blushed and looked away and Isabella and Eszter pointed at her and laughed.
‘And yet we are friends now, lord, and the ancient enmity between Parthian and Agraci is no more,’ I said.
He shook his head at me. ‘We are friends, Pacorus, but you delude yourself in thinking that our two peoples can ever live in friendship. Hatreds can be difficult to forget.’
‘Not for the saviour of Dura,’ said Gallia, her face no longer flushed. ‘How is the fat King of Emesa?’
Following the defeat of the army sent from Emesa to capture Palmyra, Haytham had come to be regarded by the citizens of Dura as a hero who had turned back a foreign army intent on seizing their city and reducing them to slavery. The gossip carried by the caravans on the road had reported great Agraci casualties, which had perversely been interpreted as a sign that Haytham and his people had fought desperately to save Dura — no thought had been given to the idea that the Agraci might have actually been fighting for their own land and people. As a consequence, when Haytham and Rasha had arrived in the city a grateful populace had mobbed them.
Scarab looked at Haytham with interest. ‘Sampsiceramus does not want war. He desires only to live in opulence surrounded by an army of slaves satisfying his every need. Is that not so, Nubian?’
Scarab bowed his head at Haytham. ‘It is as you say, great king.’
‘He is not the problem,’ continued Haytham. ‘If only the same could be said of his Roman overlords.’
The next day we went hunting south of the city. Along the riverbank the land was irrigated and filled with fields and villages, plus the royal tanneries that were situated far enough away so their stench would not disturb the city’s residents, including those who lived in the palace. Away from the irrigated strip, however, the land was desert and largely uninhabited. It was also mostly flat aside from a few wadis that cut deep into the earth. The old year was failing fast as I rode with Haytham, Gallia, Rasha and a score of Haytham’s warriors and my own squires into the arid land of shrubs, grasses and desert lichens. It may have appeared empty but this land was teeming with snakes, lizards, hares and rabbits. Today, though, we were hunting gazelle.
The women were bare headed with their hair free as the day was mild but not hot and was unlikely to get so with a sky filled with white clouds. Spartacus and Scarab fell in behind us as we headed in a southwesterly direction.
‘When this Crassus arrives the Romans may attempt to assault Palmyra once more,’ said Haytham to me. ‘If Dura’s army is in the north fighting him I may not be able to hold off another Roman army, Pacorus. We can melt into the desert but your city cannot do the same.’
‘I appreciate your warning, lord king, but Dura’s walls are strong and will resist any assault until I return with the army.’
He frowned. ‘It might be wise to leave some of your army behind to safeguard your city.’
He obviously did not realise how weakened Parthia was at this present juncture.
‘Alas, the empire will need every man to face the Armenians and Romans.’
He looked more serious. ‘We hear that the Romans have settled affairs in Egypt to their advantage and Prince Alexander, the man you furnished with weapons, has suffered more defeats in Judea. He and his men still fight but they have been reduced to holding a few isolated strongholds.’
I had hoped that Alexander Maccabeus, a Jewish prince who had paid me in gold for a great many weapons produced in Dura’s armouries, would keep the Romans occupied in Judea and may even eject them from the country altogether. But his army had been defeated and my hopes had been dashed.
‘Soon they will once again turn their attention to the east, towards Palmyra and Dura,’ he continued.
‘Dura will not forget its friendship with the Agraci people,’ I declared grandly, not knowing how I would be able to help him if the Romans decided to once more strike from Emesa.
‘And the Agraci will not abandon you, my friend.’
‘I see a group ahead,’ said Rasha suddenly.
I had not been paying attention to the terrain in front of us but I did so now and peered directly ahead to where Rasha was pointing. I saw shapes in the distance but they were not moving.