‘What are you doing?’ asked one of the men. Cassius knew every name now: this was Apollinaris, a tall, long-limbed fellow who’d seen a lot of action in the Palmyran war.
‘Going to bed.’
Apollinaris had only a few coins left. ‘You’ve got to give us a chance to win some back.’
‘Who says? We did rules at the start — no one mentioned time or number of rounds.’
‘The luck’s all gone with you, it’ll swing back later.’
‘Probably. Which is why I’m finishing now.’
As Ulixes stood up, Mercator weighed in. ‘The men usually play for longer. You’ve taken quite a bit off them — perhaps you can put in for the next round.’
‘Perhaps you should mind your own business.’
The usually cheerful Yorvah eyeballed the ex-legionary. ‘And you should mind your manners.’
‘Enjoy the rest of the game.’ Carrying the coins in two hands, Ulixes picked his way through the men towards his bed. Apollinaris was about to follow but Yorvah put a hand on the taller man’s arm. Apollinaris reluctantly stayed where he was but he and the other auxiliaries turned towards Mercator.
The stocky optio stood. ‘Ulixes. How much have you got there?’
The ex-legionary rolled his eyes, then looked at the coins. ‘I don’t know — forty-five, fifty.’
‘Put ten in for the next round.’
‘Ten?’
‘Or I can come over and take them.’
Cassius felt eyes on him but he kept his expression neutral. He’d seen enough to know Mercator was a capable leader and he wasn’t about to intervene and undermine him now. The gambler was probably entitled to his winnings but he’d been stupid to annoy the men and Cassius certainly wasn’t going to stand up for him.
Ulixes glared at the optio. ‘You think because I don’t have a sword I won’t defend myself?’ He pulled a money bag from his pack and dropped the coins into it.
‘I don’t need a sword to deal with you,’ said Mercator calmly.
Ulixes glanced up at Cassius. ‘You should tell your auxiliary friend to calm down. Fair’s fair.’
Cassius sipped at his wine.
Mercator hadn’t taken his eyes off Ulixes. ‘Ten for the next round. Or you and I can settle it outside.’
Grinning, Ulixes looked around the room. ‘You know, the truth is I just wanted to get out while I was ahead. It’s a weakness of mine — staying in too long.’
He reached into the bag, counted out some coins, then offered them to Yorvah.
‘There’s fifteen there — in the interests of maintaining good relations with you noble auxiliaries.’
Mercator sat back down on the step.
Once the game was under way again, Cassius returned upstairs.
XVII
Gutha was concerned. When Ilaha had summoned him the previous night he had been dressed in his priestly robes, having just concluded some ceremony involving the stone. He seemed troubled and distracted. The old crone had been there too, of course, lurking in the shadows, listening in.
But she was now absent and Ilaha looked his old, commanding self as he swept into the cavern. Gutha was relieved to see he had followed his advice — he was wearing a plain tunic and was armed with his sword.
‘Mushannaf. It has been too long.’
The older man and his two sons stood and the chiefs exchanged a slight bow. In contrast to his host, Mushannaf was wearing a rich blue cloak striped with green thread. The fingers of his left hand were weighed down with several bulky gold rings. His right hand was bare, the arm thin; he had suffered a stroke years earlier and was weak on that side. He kept his hair dyed black, as if to compensate by suggesting a youthful vigour.
‘Ilaha. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to call you these days?’
‘If you don’t mind. Please, sit, we have much to discuss. Can I offer you anything more?’
The table was covered with a remarkable array of food and drink, none of which had been touched.
‘No, but we thank you for your hospitality.’
The sons sat down on either side of their father.
Gutha — standing a few yards away by the wall — had let them keep their swords. He didn’t want to cause offence and knew it wouldn’t make much difference if things turned nasty. Both sons were known for an indulgent lifestyle funded by their father’s wealth. Neither was a swordsman of renown.
Ilaha sat at the other end of the table. ‘How was your journey?’
‘Annoying,’ said Mushannaf as he dragged his weak arm onto his lap. ‘I intended to continue south and check my caravans coming up from Thoma. I have lost three days coming here.’
‘The gesture is appreciated.’
‘I came out of respect for your past achievements. We fought together and we fought well. As equals. The Tanukh has always been a loose alliance — we chiefs work together when it suits us. It was never intended to provide an army for one man.’
‘Mushannaf, let me be clear: however the situation develops, you will retain complete control of your trade interests and tactical command of your warriors.’
‘“However the situation develops”. That sounds disturbingly vague. Do you expect me to blindly pledge myself to your cause? Risk my treasure, my blood?’
Ilaha held up both hands. ‘You need wait only a matter of days to hear my proposal. I simply need to know that you will be here with the others — that the Confederation will meet as one.’
‘Your request seems reasonable but your actions do not. This senseless attack on Ruwaffa — your work, I presume? Or more likely his?’
With his good hand Mushannaf gestured towards Gutha, who did not react. It would be better for all concerned if Ilaha could win the obstinate chief round, though that was looking increasingly unlikely.
‘You mentioned your treasure,’ said Ilaha. ‘Is it right that a quarter of all your profits should go to Bostra, and from there to Rome?’
‘It has always been this way.’
‘Not always. They exploit us and our trade only because we haven’t the backbone to stand up to them. And what do we get in return? Our lands pillaged by the Palmyrans, occupied for almost two years. And now they’ve allowed them to rebel again.’
‘If you expect me to defend Roman policy, you are talking to the wrong man. But I am a realist. This Aurelian is a soldier. He will deal with the Palmyrans and the Egyptians and if we take up arms against him he will deal with us.’
‘You fought with me, Mushannaf. You know that I would never be stupid enough to be drawn into an engagement with the legions. But now is the time to push for a stronger position. I have a way for us to secure our own lands in perpetuity and exist as equals, not lackeys.’
Gutha was beginning to think Ilaha might be making progress. It was a while since he’d heard him speak with such clarity and force.
‘You are talking about betraying Calvinus,’ replied Mushannaf. ‘I have no great affinity for the man but at least he respects us and our ways.’
‘So your loyalty lies with him, not your own people?’
Mushannaf raised his voice. ‘My loyalty is to my own people. My own tribe. And I will act — as I have always acted — in their best interest.’
Ilaha was silent for a moment.
‘There cannot be one leader,’ added the older man. ‘Or one god.’
‘Choose your next words wisely, Mushannaf.’
‘It appears we will have to agree to disagree. Pursue this course if you will, but you will do so without me and without my men.’
Mushannaf had his good hand on the side of his chair, ready to get up.
‘A final offer,’ said Ilaha.
‘I’m listening.’
‘A thousand golds.’
‘A considerable sum. But I am not for sale.’
Gutha strode over to their end of the table. Mushannaf and his sons looked at him, then at the huge axe hanging from his shoulder. Gutha tapped the handle as he spoke for the first time. ‘With respect, I suggest you reconsider.’
‘I suggest you stay out of it, northerner.’