Grateful for the dawn, Cassius was one of the first up, walking a respectful distance down the road to relieve himself. On the way back he exchanged a greeting with Khalima, who was already breakfasting on more of the stringy ibex meat. Ulixes was still asleep, wrapped up in his blankets just feet from the cliff.
Brushing away thoughts of the fallen horses below, Cassius went to the outcrop and recovered the figurine. As he replaced it in his satchel, he noticed his papers and thought of Apollinaris. If all had gone to plan, both letters were now speeding north to Calvinus and Abascantius.
The men were beginning to stir. Cassius gave Simo and Indavara a gentle kick. ‘Come on, you two, we’re leaving within the hour.’
Mercator was already up. Belching and rubbing his stomach, he ambled over to Cassius. ‘Not the most restful night I’ve ever had.’
‘Me neither. I shall be glad to leave this place.’
Mercator looked along the road. ‘Though at least here we only have ourselves to worry about.’
‘For now our main aim is to just get through the gates. Remind the men: nothing but Nabatean. If anyone questions them, they must stick to the story and keep it simple.’
‘Will do. So you three are supposed to be Syrian, yes?’
Cassius indicated himself, then Indavara, then Ulixes. ‘Castor, Imbrasus and Ucalgen. Simo will stay as he is. I’ve come up with some details and a backstory. We’ll go through it with everyone on the ride down.’
‘Sir, what if we are discovered?’
‘If we do have to escape or if we get split up, I suggest two rally points — here and the mushroom. Everyone should be able to find their way to those. And from there to Humeima.’
Mercator scratched his flattened, lumpen nose. He lowered his voice. ‘And the rock? We’ll need a big cart to get it back along this road.’
‘If it is at Galanaq, then they brought it here all the way from Emesa, so there’s no reason why we can’t take it back.’
‘You make it sound easy.’
Cassius bent his head towards the shorter man. ‘Mercator, listen. I’ll follow orders, but only up to a point. If there’s no chance of recovering the stone, we’ll withdraw. I’m not about to throw our lives away on some suicide mission, regardless of how much the Emperor wants the bloody thing. Establishing its location will still represent considerable progress. We can always just get the lie of the land and report back to Abascantius; let the top brass take it from there.’
‘I’m glad to hear you say that.’
‘All this for a rock, eh?’
The road clung to the side of the cliff and descended past precipitous drops and around perilous corners. Even though there was sufficient space, the party moved in single file; everyone seemed to prefer it that way. Around the third hour they passed a merchant heading a column of six carts. Cassius was relieved to see the vehicles negotiating one of the steeper slopes with little difficulty; the main preoccupation for the drivers seemed to be staying away from the edge.
Still bringing up the rear, he was one of the last to hear from the front that armed men were approaching. Khalima issued a few orders to his warriors; Mercator and the guard officers did the same. The party moved to the left side of the road as the first of the warriors rode into view.
The Arabian was moving quickly, his horse taking the slope at a trot. In his attire, he looked little different to Khalima’s men or the auxiliaries. He was, however, armed to the teeth, with a sword at his belt, a long spear over his shoulder, and a circular shield hanging from his saddle. With no more than a cursory glance at the strangers, he continued on, followed by a dozen more warriors. Other than their heavy armament, the men displayed one other common feature: each had a bright yellow circle sewn onto their tunics over their hearts.
At midday they stopped to water the horses. An anonymous crack in the cliff turned out to be the top of a cistern; one of Khalima’s men collected water via a roped pail and two others distributed it. Every last man seemed conscious of the previous evening’s events and all took care to keep close control of their mounts.
Grateful that his horse continued to display a calm temperament, Cassius passed his reins to Simo and walked to the edge. The valley had narrowed to a canyon perhaps half a mile across. Directly below was the road; a few hundred yards ahead it turned back on itself then zigzagged down to the ground. From there it crossed a short causeway across a marsh — the first sign of fertile ground for days. Beyond the causeway, the road bent around to the left and finally reached the town.
Galanaq was protected by a massive, ancient-looking walclass="underline" row upon row of colossal grey stone blocks. A pair of masons were at work and, using them for scale, Cassius estimated the wall’s height to be at least twenty feet. The arched gateway was secured by two huge timber doors, now slightly ajar. The only high structure within the town was a circular stone tower set just back and to the left of the gate. A large standard flew from a pole but Cassius could see nothing of the design. Gathered in front of the gate was a handful of guards. Two other groups of riders were waiting outside — one of about a dozen, the other twice that.
Inside the wall were around a hundred small, rock-built dwellings squeezed in between the broad central street and the sheer sides of the canyon. Galanaq seemed an arcane, primitive place. There were no large buildings, little use of timber or in fact any material other than the grey and black basalt.
Past the last of the houses was a stretch of open ground. On the left side scores of tents had been erected to form a large encampment. To the right was a walled complex with several buildings plus a corral and stables. It looked to Cassius very much like a military compound.
At the end of the road was a second, inner wall that ran for perhaps two hundred yards across the width of the canyon. The only way through was another arched gateway; here the doors were closed. Over the top of the wall, Cassius could see the dark mouths of numerous caverns hewn from the rock. A quarter-mile to the east was the end of the canyon; another vertiginous face at least three hundred feet high.
Cassius’s stomach turned over as he at last saw the overwhelming obstacles that stood in their way. Locating the rock in this small town might prove the easy part. But getting it out? There was only one road, a pair of huge walls, and then the small matter of a three-day journey out of the mountains and two more to reach the safety of Humeima. And how many hundred warriors were down there, ready to protect the stone or give chase if it was taken?
Indavara and some of the auxiliaries were drifting across the road to join him but Cassius waved them back. As Simo returned his reins, he forced himself not to dwell on thoughts of the stone. It seemed likely that intelligence was the best they could hope to retrieve from Galanaq. First they had to get inside.
Once over the causeway, Khalima led the party off the road and sent Adayyid up to the gate. The large group had been allowed into the town but the smaller group remained outside.
Cassius looked at the tower. It was far more impressive up close; thirty foot high and twelve wide, with a high surround and several arrow slits. The two sentries on duty each had a bow over their shoulder and were surveying the new arrivals below. Cassius could also now see the detail on the big standard; another golden circle upon a square of purple.
‘Fancy flag,’ said Indavara.
‘Hundreds of denarii’s worth.’
‘So this Ilaha’s got lots of money and lots of men.’
‘Looks that way.’
Cassius turned his attention to Adayyid. The Saracen had spoken to the guards at the gate and was now returning. Behind him, the smaller group were trudging towards the causeway, towing their horses. They didn’t look happy.