Golpari. Cassius had seen only her face but had spent much of the last two days imagining what the rest of her looked like. Though he had never seen the Palmyran Queen Zenobia, he guessed she might be similarly sultry and exotic. There was an equally gorgeous Persian bar girl in one of the taverns back in Bostra. She earned enough to be picky but had propositioned Cassius a number of times. He couldn’t really spare the money but now promised himself he would visit the tavern when — if? — they returned to the capital.
Around him, the men pulled off their boots and lay out their aching bodies. Ulixes threw pebbles off the cliff. Mercator stood with Yorvah and Andal, sharing a flask of wine. Indavara was scraping dirt off his boots with a stick. Simo was rummaging through a saddlebag.
‘Ha. Look!’
One of the auxiliaries pointed upwards. Fifty feet above, an eagle was swooping past the cliff. Pinned in its talons was a struggling rabbit. The eagle stalled in midair, thrashing its wings.
‘Go on,’ cried one of the men. ‘Rip it to shreds!’
‘He got greedy — it’s too heavy.’
‘Nah — the eagle always triumphs.’
‘He’ll have to drop it.’
By now, every last man was watching.
The eagle suddenly let go. The rabbit fell, bounced off one of the auxiliaries’ horses then landed on the ground.
Some of the men laughed and cheered.
Though bloodied, the rabbit was still alive. Panicked by the noise, it ran straight under the legs of another horse. The horse reared and fell to one side, striking the animal next to it. The others whinnied and shuffled away.
Mercator was the first to see the danger. ‘Grab that one at the end!’
He ran across the Step but had to dodge around the auxiliories and their bags.
Khalima’s men grabbed two of their mounts and pulled their animals towards the road.
Cassius looked at the other side of the step. The horse closest to the edge was bucking against the others, desperate to get clear of the cliff.
‘Cut the rope!’ yelled Indavara.
Mercator had made it through. He jumped down onto the sand and drew his dagger.
The horse fell onto its front knees, then was struck by another. It slid off the edge and disappeared.
As he tried to barge his way through the auxiliaries, Cassius saw another horse fall, eyes bulging as it slipped over the cliff.
‘Cut it!’
‘Cut the rope!’
Each of the mounts had a line looped around their neck which was attached to the main rope. Braving the lashing hooves of the third horse, Mercator darted forward and clamped one hand over the rope.
Cassius glimpsed Indavara and Andal at the other end, vainly attempting to pull the mounts back the other way. As the horse tottered on the edge, mouth foaming, Mercator slashed the blade down, severing the rope. As both ends flew away, he fell back.
It was too late for the horse. Something close to quiet briefly returned and Cassius heard the animal bumping against the rocks as it fell the hundreds of feet to the valley floor. He joined the others as they grabbed the mounts, helping Indavara and Andal steady them.
‘Try to stay still,’ ordered Andal. ‘Calm them down.’
Though some were still whinnying and scraping the ground with their hooves, the wide-eyed horses gradually quietened again. The mules had been on a different rope; Patch and the others had remained safe throughout.
After a time, some of the men walked up to the cliff-edge and looked over it.
‘Oh dear Lord,’ breathed Simo.
The auxiliaries were cursing and shaking their heads.
‘An eagle of all things,’ said one.
‘A terrible omen,’ said another.
‘A terrible accident,’ affirmed Cassius.
Mercator’s hands were still shaking as he fitted his dagger back into the sheath. ‘We cannot leave the mounts like this.’
‘Agreed.’
Cassius also wanted to keep the auxiliaries busy, knowing how quickly this talk of an omen would take hold: ‘You men, listen.We’re going to move the horses out back along the road — give ourselves more space. Andal, Yorvah, quickly now.’
In fact it was Cassius who took charge, chivvying the men along, giving anyone unoccupied something to do. Within a quarter-hour they had the horses spread out opposite Khalima’s animals, with the best of the fodder to occupy them.
But the murmurings continued. When even Yorvah was heard to mention the ‘omen’, Cassius ordered Mercator to assemble the men. Given the effect of the accident and the fact that this was their last day before trying to enter Galanaq, he reckoned the time was right for a very specific concession, especially as Khalima and most of his men were absent.
While the auxiliaries gathered, he delved into the grain sack containing the satchel and pulled out the other item he had secreted there, which was wrapped in cloth. He walked over to a small outcrop of rock at the rear of the Step, the top of which was at head height. He waved Mercator and the men over and they formed a loose semicircle facing him. With Ulixes and the Saracens looking on, Cassius waited for silence before speaking.
‘Well done, all of you. We shouldn’t have any further problems here tonight. This was an unpleasant incident, but do not get drawn into fantastical talk. We all saw the bird drop the rabbit. The rabbit startled the horses. Simple cause and effect.’
‘But an eagle, sir,’ said one of the men. ‘I’ve never seen such a thing.’
‘Why now?’ said another. ‘It has to be a sign.’
‘Accidents happen,’ replied Cassius quickly. ‘We’ve dealt with it. It’s over. Do you think Jupiter would abandon his loyal followers because a bird drops its dinner? In any case, I wanted to take a moment together as a group. I realise that you men have had no proper opportunity to worship since we left Bostra. I don’t think we will have another chance to do so. We shall pray to the god of gods.’
Cassius carefully unwrapped the bronze figurine of Jupiter, which he had liberated from the villa in Bostra. It was no more than six inches high, the metal dull and marked, but it would suffice. Cassius placed it on the outcrop and wedged it between two stones (the last thing he needed was another bout of superstitious rambling).
Mercator got down on one knee and the others swiftly followed. Cassius was grateful that Indavara and Simo did so too, though he knew neither would say the words. He checked the figurine a final time, then turned and knelt beside Mercator. He thought briefly about what to say, then began, allowing time for the men to repeat each line.
‘Great and honoured Jupiter, king of kings, god of gods. We — your children, your followers, your warriors — are gathered here in the service of Rome and the Emperor. Pray favour us. Pray watch over us and deliver us from harm. In return we offer our ever-lasting love and fidelity. Great Jupiter, watch over us.’
A welcome distraction arrived an hour later in the form of Khalima and his hunting party. Two of the warriors were carrying slain ibex over their shoulders, each with a single arrow wound to the neck. They were large animals — one male, one female — and caused a good bit of interest fom the auxiliaries.
Upon hearing what had happened, Khalima apologised for not seeing the danger and posted some of his warriors to watch all the horses. As his other men built up a fire farther down the road, he promised a good cut of meat for everyone.
By the time the meal arrived, the auxiliaries had settled down for the night but they tucked in with enthusiasm, all pronouncing it at least as good as Censorinus’s lamb. Cassius allowed Adayyid to drop a portion on his plate to avoid causing offence but later gave it to Indavara. He couldn’t face a thing.
XXIII
Cassius hardly slept. The valley below and the surrounding rock seemed to amplify every sound; every fall of scree, every bird’s cry, every wolf’s howl. But worst of all was the horses. Cassius lost count of the times he and various others sat up at the slightest noise from them, dreading a repetition of the earlier disaster. Simo seemed equally unsettled; Indavara snored through it all.