‘My chief’s village is two days’ ride from here,’ he continued, ‘you come to him.’
‘Out of the question,’ replied Orodes impatiently.
‘I will go,’ I said.
The messenger looked at me. ‘You bring no soldiers. I will be your guide.’
‘I will bring three others with me,’ I told him, ‘that is all.’
He agreed to meet me at the city’s eastern gate the next morning and after he had been dismissed Orodes urged me not to go, fearing that it would be a trap and that I might be killed.
‘What purpose would killing me serve?’
‘No purpose at all,’ he said, ‘but that does not mean they will not do it. The hill men do not live by our rules. The hill men do not live by any rules.’
I shrugged. ‘Mithridates managed to recruit a good number so they are not averse to offers of gold.’
‘That is the point, Pacorus. My stepbrother reneged on his agreement with the hill men and paid them nothing for their services. He duped them and they lost thousands in the battle against us for nothing. That is one of the reasons they have been so troublesome of late: they seek revenge for his treachery.’
I laughed. Even though he was dead, Mithridates was still causing us problems.
‘If I don’t meet with this man, Orodes, then I will have come all this way for nothing. I would ask a favour of you, though.’
‘Name it.’
‘Get your treasury to release some gold coins for me so I may take them to this chief, as a sign of good faith.’
He looked horrified. ‘That will be the quickest way to get your throat cut.’
‘I will have to take that risk. There is little point in turning up with only words. If I can convince this man that there is more gold to be had he may agree to supply me with men.’
‘Is it worth it, Pacorus?’
I thought for a moment. ‘I do not wish to send any Parthians into Judea to certain death. If I try to recruit mercenaries from lands near to Armenia the Romans will get to know of it. Enlisting a few hill men seems the cheapest and easiest thing to do.’
He placed a hand on my shoulder. ‘This world will be an emptier place without your friendship to fill it.’
‘I will return, I always do.’
We left the next day, Gourlay leading the way on his mangy horse. Domitus was most unimpressed by this venture and spent the whole of the first morning complaining, much to the amusement of Scarab who was amazed that someone could address a king so.
‘King? I knew him when he was a slave, boy, just like you.’
Scarab looked embarrassed by his words.
‘It is true,’ I told him. ‘It is no secret that I was captured by the Romans and forced into bondage. I have never sought to hide my past. But what my general did not tell you was that I was the one who rescued him.’
Domitus smiled sarcastically. ‘I thought it was Spartacus who led the raid on the silver mine.’
‘It was my archers that tipped the scales in that battle,’ I said. ‘Without them you would still be hacking at rock deep under the earth.’
‘Majesty,’ interrupted Scarab, ‘I have heard about this man called Spartacus. Men talk of him in hushed tones and with reverence as if he was a god.’
I was riding next to Domitus with my two squires behind me and now I turned and looked at Scarab and at Spartacus, who was staring ahead in silence though no doubt listening to every word.
‘He was not a god,’ I replied, ‘though the Romans liked to think of him as a devil sent from the underworld, but he was a great general and a fine man I was proud to call friend.’
Scarab turned to my nephew. ‘You must be proud to bear his name.’
Spartacus did not respond for a few seconds but finally he spoke. ‘For many years I did not think so. But since my time at Dura I have begun to change my mind. My parents were wise to send me to you, uncle.’
‘You are the one who has learned wisdom,’ I said.
‘Not when it comes to women,’ said Domitus.
Spartacus bristled with anger. ‘Rasha is beautiful.’
Domitus laughed. ‘I have known her since she was a young girl and she has turned into a fine young woman, but I know enough about Parthians to understand that she could never be a queen of Hatra, even if you do manage to capture an eagle, which you won’t.’
‘I do not wish to be King of Hatra. My brother, Pacorus, who was born in the city, will be king, not I,’ he insisted. ‘They do not like me in Hatra and I do not like them.’
‘Who?’ I asked.
‘The nobles,’ he spat. ‘They sneer at me and plot behind my parents’ back.’
Domitus looked at me but said nothing and we rode on in silence for a while. In front Gourlay led us through ravines and across steppe filled with long grass and wildflowers, before coming into a valley whose steep sides were covered in oak. The air was pure and cool as the valley narrowed and we threaded our way through the trees, not only oak but also pistachio, hawthorn, almond, nettle and pear. This was a rich country for the Zagros was a haven for bears, eagles, wolves, wild goats, foxes, jackals, deer, mongoose and marten.
‘We make camp here,’ Gourlay announced suddenly while we were riding through thick woods following the course of a fast-flowing stream. It was late afternoon and these were the first words he had spoken for several hours.
Spartacus caught sight of a group of Persian fallow deer around four hundred paces away, their tawny coats and white spots blending into the sun-dappled surroundings and making them difficult to spot. We halted and slid off our horses and stretched our limbs as he pulled his bow from its case and strung an arrow.
‘You think you can hit one from here?’ I asked. The deer stood around three foot at the shoulder with flattened antlers like those of a miniature moose and presented a small target.
He drew back his bowstring and then released it, the arrow lancing through the air before striking the neck of one of the deer, which collapsed to the ground as the others bolted.
‘No problem,’ he beamed triumphantly.
‘Then you can go and collect it.’
As we unsaddled the horses Gourlay threw his mount’s saddlecloth on the ground and tethered the beast to a nearby tree. Scarab prepared a fire and Domitus skinned and gutted the deer that Spartacus had killed and roasted its flesh over the fire. We sat in a circle around the flames and feasted on the warm meat, our guide saying little before he wrapped himself in his saddlecloth and fell asleep.
Later I took the first watch as Scarab and Spartacus slept and Domitus sat sharpening his sword. I crouched by him.
‘What did you make of my nephew’s remarks about Hatra’s lords plotting behind Gafarn’s back?’ I whispered.
He continued to run the stone along his sword’s edge. ‘A boy who feels he is an outsider will imagine people are against him when they are not.’
‘Perhaps,’ I replied.
The next day, after we had washed in the stream, attended to the horses and eaten a sparse meal of cured meat, we continued on with our journey, travelling east into the Zagros. I made several attempts to engage our guide in conversation but his surly one-word answers to my questions indicated that he had no interest in what any of us had to say and so we rode on in silence. The light was fading when Gourlay held up an arm to signal us to halt and then called out into the gloom of the forest. We looked at each other in confusion but then several figures emerged from the undergrowth — men dressed in poor quality tunics and leggings carrying axes and spears.
‘I had forgotten how ragged these hill men are,’ Domitus said to me softly. ‘If they manage to survive the journey to Dura the Romans will make offal of them in no time.’
‘You must try to look beyond the raw material, Domitus, to what may be.’
He grinned. ‘What may be? A lot of dead hill men littering the earth in Judea.’
Our guide rode over to me while his newly arrived companions stood and eyed us warily.
‘These men are watchers from my lord’s village. It is in the next valley, an hour’s ride away.’