Kavadh sighed and picked at the gold laces of his high riding boots.
“He asked if the great Prince Shahin had returned from the conquest of Egypt yet. No one could answer him-no word has come from that army since it entered the deserts of Syria months ago. He asked if the Boar had returned from his hunting trip in the North, the bright-bannered Immortals at his back. No one could answer him-few have come from the North save messengers bearing word of the constant approach of the Roman army.
“He asked if the new army had been raised from the people of the city. No one spoke. I looked around and saw only old men and servants around me. All of the great lords have fled-to Ecbatana or beyond, back to their estates. Aunt, we are abandoned!”
Shirin sighed and pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders. Her hair had been loose while she had been singing for Thyatis; now she began to braid it.
“Nephew,” she said, her voice soft, “there are many pressures upon the King of Kings. This war does not go well, the people-even the nobles-are afraid. If he shows that fear he holds himself, then there will be a panic and all will be lost. It is natural to feel fear, each of us, man and woman, does. But you must not let it master you. Be strong for your father, stand by his side, bend your bow as he does.”
Her voice trailed off, seeing the desolation in Kavadh’s eyes. He stood, shaking his head.
“No one is coming to save us. The Boar is dead, the great Prince Shahin may be as well. There are no armies to succor us if we hold out in siege and no one to hold the walls against the Romans. Our only choice to survive is to flee now down the river or into the moutains. This I will say to my father, for there is no other choice.”
Shirin watched him, her luminous eyes filled with worry. She held up a hand and he stopped as he would stalk out the door. “Your father honors courage and bravery above all things, dear nephew. Do not anger him when you say these things. He is quick to take offense.“ Kavadh made a half smile while one hand picked at the drape of his shirt. ”You mean he accounts me a base coward, hiding behind my dead mother’s skirts? That he will ignore and revile me if I speak the truth to him? I know, but I am by rights the son of a King. I should speak honestly to my father in this.“ He bowed and left the” room. Behind him, the Princess stared out the tall windows. Thyatis closed the drape, though she had to restrain herself from stepping in and putting her arms around Shirin. Instead, she waited in the dim corridor, patient and quiet. She wondered if the boy-Prince would be killed by his father in an insane rage. and brown fluid slid over his foot, trapping it again. Ahead of him, the other mages toiled forward as well, their heads low, their hands on the sides of the wagons for support. Riders splashed past in both directions, urging their weary horses forward through‘ the sodden road. The Hibernian wondered if they would ever seen an end to the mud, if their destination would ever rise out of this endless plain of fields and towns and rows of palms and other trees. The army had come down out of the mountains above the city of Nineveh in a break in the weather. For a brief few days they had marched down firm roads under sunny skies. The air had been crisp and cool, with miles passing away under their marching feet. But past the great northern city they had entered the plain between the two rivers, a vast expanse of mud and deep loamy soil. Then the rains had come again, and the world had dissolved into endless leagues of gray sky and muddy road. He put one foot, dragging it out of the muck, in front of the other. He was weary, very weary. Zoe looked back over her shoulder, her face drawn and grim. He was falling behind. She motioned for him to catch up. Dwyrin sighed and pushed harder through the mud.
THE ROAD TO CTESIPHON, LOWER EUPHRATES PLAIN
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l-J ain fell in sheets, obscuring the road and the lines of JL X.palm trees on either side. Thick clayey mud dragged at Dwyrin’s boots and caked his legs. The rain was not heavy but it was constant and it had been with the army for days. The canals the road paralleled had risen, lapping at the tops of the dykes that held them back from the endless fields that stretched to the horizon. In the odd times when the rain lifted or the clouds broke, Dwyrin could see towns and cities pass by, raised up on great mounds of earth. The land seemed empty-no peasants, no shepherds. Even the empty walls of the cities were barren of life. Dwyrin put one foot in front of the other, feeling his boot suck up out of the mire. It made a popping sound as it pulled free, then he put it down a pace ahead. The tan
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– | ires lit the plain, red and gold under an overcast night A sky. The clouds scudded past, reflecting ruddy light from bellies fat with rain. Thyatis stood on the roof of Shirin’s house of marble and jade, her nostrils filled with the clean smell of rain on the desert. She stretched her arms wide, feeling the damp wind ruffle her hair. A deep breath filled her with a curious peace. The city was dark around her, with barely a light showing. The Roman army had come to the gates of the city of the King of Kings, but the populace had not seemed to notice.
Thyatis felt the air move behind her and she shifted her weight. Nikos climbed up onto the roof next to her.
“Is everyone ready?” Calm settled over her. Violent action was close at hand.
“No,” he cursed. “Jusuf had to take a leak and when he came back, Shirin was gone. Her handmaiden says that a messenger came from the King of Kings to summon her to his presence.”
“Mithras! Where are the children?”
“Anagathios has them in hand. Dosed their fruit juice with some poppy. They’re sleeping hard. The Khazars are with him, though.”
“Something… maybe enough. Well, we can use the drainpipe then. Take ‘Gathios and the Khazars over the rooftops. Jusuf and I will go the other way and see if we can catch up with… what?”
Nikos smiled, his grin a white line in the darkness. “Jusuf already left. Just grabbed his sword and ran off after the girl.”
Thyatis considered wasting a good five grains cursing luridly but put that pleasure aside for later.
“Great… I’d better be quick about it. Get the children to the water gate.”
“Ave, centurion.” Nikos turned to go, but then stopped and held out a hand. Thyatis clasped it, feeling his firm familiar grip. The Illyrian’s expression was unreadable in the darkness.
“Good luck,” he said. Then he hustled down the rooftop to the window to her room.
Thyatis stood up and slowly turned around, her eyes surveying the city. She could hear people running in the streets, but there were no fires and no smoke. People had come in from the farms outside of the city the-previous day, shouting the news that the Romans were upon them. Few heard them, for Ctesiphon had been emptying for the last two weeks. She wondered who was left in the darkened buildings. The palace was abandoned, save for the royal guard and a few remaining servants. No one had seen the King of Kings in days. Had he decided to flee, she wondered, or simply to die in the ruin of his dreams?
Her room was empty, her travel gear already packed up for her by Nikos. She slung the bag over her shoulder and checked the straps and belts. She laced up her boots, tying the tops off just under her knees. Rolling from side to side on the balls of her feet, she settled the weight on her shoulders.
The door closed under her hand and she forgot about the room. Downstairs, in the common room where she had first set eyes upon the Princess, Anagathios, Nikos, and the Khazars were pulling on their own packs, laden with supplies and food. The Illyrian was sporting a variety of weapons as well.