‘You know part of him. He was a wild creature that you took out of its environment and you sought to tame him like a horse. But a beast that has been taught to perform and dressed in fine clothes is still wild underneath.’
I held my head in my hands in despair. ‘Surena is not a beast; he is a man who has just lost his wife and child.’
She waved a hand at me dismissively. ‘Have it your own way. But I tell you that he will lash out like an enraged demon because of this, disregarding the consequences. You should prepare.’
‘Prepare for what?’
‘The unexpected.’
Knowing that Dobbai’s warnings were not to be dismissed lightly during the next few days there was a permanent knot in my stomach as I expected bad news to arrive at Dura. Perhaps Crassus had speeded up his journey, or maybe Artavasdes had decided to start the war without waiting for the Romans to arrive. But after a week nothing had happened and so I began to relax. The army was up to full strength and ready to march. The cataphracts had received their new swords and production of the new arrows for the horse archers was almost completed. All was quiet along the border with Roman Syria and Haytham’s kingdom was not being troubled.
I visited the Agraci king a week after my return to Dura and took Spartacus and Scarab along with me. As usual the road to Palmyra was thronged with traffic going east and west and the desert oasis itself was filled with caravans. Haytham gave a great feast the night we arrived and I kept a close eye on my nephew and Rasha, but though they exchanged pleasantries and spent some time in each other’s company there was no show of affection between the two, for which I heaved a sigh of relief. Her father had almost certainly earmarked a potential husband for his daughter and it would not be a Parthian, even if he was a prince.
Between the courses of roasted lamb stuffed with rice, nuts and raisins, and dates; platters heaped high with succulent mutton; and great quantities of unleavened bread, Byrd informed me that thus far there was no sign of Crassus but his arrival was eagerly awaited in Antioch.
‘He has boasted that he will conquer all Parthia and reduce its kings to servants of Rome.’
‘Servants?’ I said, scooping up a slice of lamb covered with cooked onion. ‘I think “slaves” is more appropriate. What do you hear of Alexander Maccabeus in Judea?’
Byrd screwed up his face. ‘He still fight but is more the hunted than the hunter. Romani tighten their grip on Judea and Egypt.’
I thought of the thousands of weapons that I had supplied to the Jewish rebels and the high hopes of their leader. ‘Still, at least he is still resisting. Are the Armenians still recruiting mercenaries?’
He nodded. ‘Artavasdes has sworn to make Hatra an Armenian city just like Nisibus. Rumour tell of a great map he has commissioned that shows Kingdoms of Hatra, Gordyene, Media and Atropaiene as provinces of Armenian Empire.’
I nearly choked on my piece of lamb. ‘What?’
‘He thinks he is the new Tigranes,’ said Byrd.
I took a gulp of water. ‘We will have to disabuse him of that notion.’
The next day I spoke with Haytham and told him that everything was in place with regards to dealing with Crassus and the Armenians.
‘What part would you like me to play in this plan?’ he asked me.
‘You may do as you like, lord king.’
We sat alone cross-legged on carpets and among cushions in his great tent. Outside the bustle and noise of Palmyra filled the air. They were the sounds of much activity and indicative of great prosperity, but Haytham seemed concerned.
‘I must wash the swords of my warriors in the blood of my enemies, Pacorus, to avenge the death of Vehrka, else I will appear weak to my people.’
‘When the Romans arrive, lord,’ I said, ‘there will be more than enough enemy blood to go round.’
‘The Romans will again try to take Palmyra. Though we are a nomadic people and can relinquish this place easily enough, I must defend it. To abandon it would be shameful.’
‘The Romans will invade Parthia first, lord,’ I told him.
He looked surprised. ‘It would make more sense to march from Emesa east to Palmyra and then Dura.’
‘The Romans will wish to join with their Armenian allies to the north, lord. They will cross the Euphrates at Zeugma to gain access to the land between that river and the Tigris.’
‘Your squire, the tall one with broad shoulders and black hair,’ he said suddenly. ‘He pays too much attention to Rasha. I saw them exchanging glances last night. Tell him that she is not for his eyes.’
The threatening tone in his voice told me that it had been a mistake to bring Spartacus to Palmyra. I assured Haytham that in future I would leave my squires at Dura.
‘The Nubian you can still bring. He at least knows his place.’
Despite his incurring the animosity of Haytham, which would normally have resulted in his swift execution, Spartacus was in high spirits as we made our way back to Dura. As usual the road was heaving with traffic — mules and camels loaded with goods, carts being pulled by mangy donkeys, travellers on foot, mystics, guards on horseback escorting their masters’ caravans — the air was filled with dust and the aroma of animals and their dung. These sights and smells gladdened my heart for they were a sign of commerce and Dura’s prosperity.
‘These people and their animals stink,’ complained Spartacus behind me.
We were riding by the side of the road, the smell and dust of hundreds of animals and men filling the hot, still air.
‘What you are seeing is the lifeblood of the empire,’ I told him. ‘Without the Silk Road and the caravans that travel along it Parthia would be impoverished. Hatra would be nothing but an outpost in the desert without the Silk Road.’
‘They still stink,’ he mumbled.
‘What do you think of the princess, Scarab?’ I heard him say to my Nubian squire.
‘A jewel of the desert,’ replied Scarab.
‘I like her,’ proclaimed Spartacus.
‘You cannot have her,’ I said to him. ‘Haytham was most displeased by your behaviour at the feast.’
‘I did not touch her,’ he protested.
‘Haytham is no fool. He sees and hears everything. Do you think he did not notice a great strapping oaf leering at his daughter, or catching her eye and eliciting a smile from her? You delude yourself and you would be wise not to get on the wrong side of him.’
‘He does not frighten me,’ he remarked casually.
I halted Remus and wheeled him around. The fifty horse archers of my escort behind also halted.
I jabbed a finger at my cocky nephew. ‘You should fear him. He would slit your throat without a thought if he thought you had dishonoured his daughter.’
He was outraged. ‘I would never dishonour Rasha.’
I let my hand drop. ‘I know that. But you must understand that she is Agraci and will marry an Agraci lord.’
‘I am a prince and higher than a lord,’ he declared proudly.
Scarab grinned at me from under his floppy hat.
‘He does not care if you are a prince. You are Parthian and Rasha is Agraci and the two do not mix.’
‘You are his friend, uncle. In Hatra people say that the Agraci and Parthians are mortal enemies, and yet you and he visit each other and regard yourselves as brothers.’
I shook my head. ‘It is not the same. I am not lusting after his daughter, which by the way is conduct unbecoming of a Parthian prince.’
‘I am only half Parthian,’ he said. ‘I was raised a Parthian but I was born a Thracian.’
I smiled. Gafarn and Diana had promised that he would know of his blood parents and they had kept their word.
‘What is a Thracian?’ asked Scarab as we resumed our journey back to Dura.
‘A native of Thrace,’ I said.
‘And where is Thrace, majesty?’ he enquired further.
‘A land far to the west of here,’ I replied.