‘By the gods.’ He stopped and turned to Indavara. ‘You first.’
‘Knew I should have brought my stave.’ The bodyguard shouldered his way between two men lugging amphoras, then pressed forward.
‘I told you — we don’t want to stand out.’
Eventually, the mass of buyers and sellers began to thin out and they reached a three-way junction beneath an outcrop of rock.
‘Er, I think it’s to the right,’ Cassius told the others. Jabbal’s directions had made sense for the first half-minute then descended into confusion and a heated argument with his wife.
Standing in shade beneath the outcrop and gazing back at the spice market were two soldiers. They were dressed and armed conventionally but had squares of red cloth sewn onto the front of their tunics. The badges bore the emblem of Nabatea’s ancient royal house. Cassius had seen some of these men in Bostra; they didn’t belong to any legionary or auxiliary cohort but to a small cadre of local troops who watched over important and sacred sites such as the King’s Tomb. This select band had been permitted to bear the emblem ever since the annexation of the province; a long-standing gesture of respect.
‘Excuse me,’ said Cassius. ‘Temple of Atargatis?’
One of the soldiers aimed a thumb to the right, at a path considerably less busy than the one leading left.
‘Thank you.’
The path soon joined a narrow wadi that ran westwards, hemmed in by steep rock walls from which hardy vegetation sprung at unlikely angles. There was no water visible at the bottom, just a mass of lush shrubbery resplendent with pink and purple flowers.
As he walked, Cassius wondered how Mercator and the others were getting on. It had seemed advisable to give them some free time and — as most had never visited the city — he’d agreed they could take a look around, with the strict proviso that they kept to themselves and stayed out of trouble.
The Temple of Atargatis was about half a mile from the spice market. It too had been carved out of the rock though the entrance was singularly unimpressive compared with the King’s Tomb. In fact the only sign that it was a temple at all was the image of the fertility goddess above the doorway. She wore a large crown and seemed to have leaves growing out of her body.
Waiting nearby was a young woman. A young man who had been walking behind Cassius and the others hurried over and kissed her, then the two of them continued along the path, hand in hand. There seemed to be no one else around.
Cassius checked the position of the sun. ‘About exactly midday, I would say. Hope he’s on time.’
There was something rather lupine about Ulixes. His shoulders were tight with tension and he seemed almost to be sniffing the air as he approached the temple. Somewhere between forty and fifty, he had high cheekbones and a long, angular chin. His hair was thinning in an unusual fashion, with several strands swept across his head and a lot of scalp visible underneath. He wore a ringed belt like the legionary he’d once been and a well-cut but well-used tunic.
He looked back along the path just before he stopped, then inspected the three of them. It had often occurred to Cassius that they must appear a rather strange trio at first sight. Interestingly, it was Indavara he spoke to.
‘All praise Atargatis.’
Cassius had been given the correct response by Abascantius. ‘Mother of all under the sun.’
Ulixes shifted his gaze.
‘Good day,’ said Cassius. ‘Name’s Crispian. Ulixes, I presume.’
Ulixes moved aside to let some worshippers out of the temple. ‘At your service. Old Pitface’s operatives are getting younger. And who are these two?’
‘They work for me. I believe you have some information.’
‘I do. I’ll need to see the coin first, though.’
‘I thought you might say that. Why are you so late? We’ve been waiting almost an hour.’
‘Small spot of local trouble.’
‘Such as?’
‘Nothing a nice heavy bag of aurei won’t solve.’
‘I don’t want any uninvited attention.’
‘Then I suggest we get going.’
‘Follow me.’
By the time they returned to the spice market, it was considerably less busy. Cassius walked alongside Ulixes, who was continually glancing around.
‘This local trouble — care to be more specific?’
‘Let’s just say I owe certain people a certain amount.’
Cassius recalled what Abascantius had told him. ‘Gambling debts?’
‘Occupational hazard.’
‘What’s your occupation?’
‘Gambler.’ Ulixes’s smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. He stopped and stared along the street. ‘Crispian, do you have any of those golds with you?’
‘No.’
Ulixes gulped. ‘I owe a vicious bitch by the name of Zaara-Kitar. See the fellow looking around over there? Long hair.’
The man was wearing a sleeveless white tunic. His plaited hair reached almost to the black sash around his waist.
‘I see him.’
‘That’s one of her sons. They do her dirty work for her.’
Ulixes looked back between Indavara and Simo, who had stopped just behind them. ‘Shit. There’s another.’ Ulixes bowed his head. ‘Did he see me?’
The second man looked remarkably similar to the first.
‘Er, yes. I think so.’
‘What’s going on?’ asked Indavara.
‘Trouble,’ said Cassius.
The second enforcer gave a shout and ran towards them. The first man heard it and spotted them too. Just as Ulixes looked across the street for an escape route, a pair of horses trotted by and a covered cart trundled to a halt. A third enforcer leaped nimbly out of the back. He had the same attire, same long hair, and — hanging from his sash — a very long knife.
‘Exactly how many sons does this Zaara-Kitar have?’ asked Cassius.
‘Three, I think.’
Another man jumped down.
‘Ah,’ added Ulixes, ‘maybe four.’
‘You’re a brave man,’ said the new arrival in Greek, ‘walking around in daylight. Thought you were safe after all these months, did you? You should know our mother never forgets a debt.’
‘Now listen. I can get the money, I just need a little more time.’
‘You’re out of time.’
Cassius looked at Indavara, who was standing closest to the third and fourth enforcers. The second man had been delayed by a misbehaving donkey but would be there in moments. Indavara nodded.
Cassius pushed Ulixes away along the street. ‘Run!’
The gambler did so.
‘Simo, come on!’
Without waiting to see what would develop behind him, Cassius sprang away after Ulixes. Ahead of them, the first enforcer shoved a lad out of his way and drew his knife: half a yard of honed, glittering steel.
Indavara waited for the third man to move and had time to execute the trip perfectly. He caught his trailing leg in midair and had already grabbed the fourth enforcer before his brother hit the ground.
As he tried to wrench himself free, Indavara got both hands on his tunic and slammed him into the side of the cart. To his credit, the enforcer stayed on his feet and even tried to reach for his blade. But Indavara still had hold of him, and this time he threw him to his right. Hair whipping through the air, the enforcer sailed clean over a barrel and crashed head first into a rickety stall, showering the vendor with onions and ginger.
Cassius watched Ulixes snatch a big wicker basket and heave it at the first enforcer. It struck him on the chest and sent him sprawling onto a pile of empty sacks. But as Ulixes charged past, he stuck out a leg.
The gambler fell flat on his face. Cassius would have helped him up but he was more worried about the enforcer, who was trying to wrench his knife-arm free from the basket. Swiftly deciding he wasn’t going to get the blade out, he let go and pushed the basket aside. As Ulixes got to his knees, the Arabian scrambled over and grabbed him around the neck.
Cassius and Simo stood there, watching. Cassius knew he should probably help, he just hadn’t decided quite how.