Gutha was tired of playing along. ‘I was just wondering how you’re going to do it.’
Ilaha leaned back against the table. ‘Do what?’
‘Make sure the Romans fight. The show of strength at Humeima might do it, the flags might do it, but how will you make sure?’
Ilaha gave a thin smile. ‘If I am to answer that honestly, I first need to know I can be absolutely certain of you. You knelt, you bowed, but I wonder — even now — if you truly believe.’
‘I think we both know I didn’t before. But when that voice spoke … I saw … something. I think I saw him.’
Ilaha touched his arm. ‘Elagabal reveals himself to each of us in different ways.’
‘He is with us. I am sure of that now.’
In truth, Gutha wasn’t sure of anything. Yet he could see he had done enough to convince Ilaha.
‘I am so glad. Mother still has her doubts but I see the change in you.’
‘If we are to fight the Romans — and if you still wish me to be of use to you — I must know what you intend. I must be able to look ahead, to plan and prepare.’
‘You are right, of course.’
Gutha had leaned his axe up against a table leg. Ilaha ran a finger along the honed edge and waited for the blood to appear. ‘I do want to fight them. Now. While they are weak; while we are strong. Arabia will be mine before they can even react.’
Ilaha licked off the blood then laughed. ‘It was Mother’s idea. The treaty. Once all the ethnarchs have signed it, we will simply alter the text before despatching it to Bostra. Calvinus will see a demand not for import tax of one sixth, but one eighth.’
‘He will refuse.’
‘Of course.’
‘The ethnarchs and the men will be angry.’
‘Angry enough to storm Humeima,’ said Ilaha. ‘We will have the legionaries make crosses for themselves and leave them to die slowly under the glare of Mighty Elagabal.’
‘And then?’
‘And then Bostra, and then the rest of the province. And then Aurelian.’
Gutha tried to react to this as if it were a plausible course of action.
You mad bastard. You mad, mad bastard. Although … there is a kind of reckless genius to it. I wonder how far you might get?
Gutha was sure of one thing. The day he saw a legion marching towards him was the day he and Ilaha parted company. Until then?
He did pay well. Unusually well.
‘You will stand beside me, won’t you, Gutha?’
‘Lord Ilaha, I shall.’
XXVIII
Though tempted by a third mug of unwatered wine, Cassius resisted. While the men subtly went about their preparations to escape if need be, he circled the camp, glancing at the road every few minutes. Though he was looking for Khalima and Adayyid, he knew they might not return. It was perhaps just as likely that he might see that ugly bastard Oblachus and his guards coming for them.
Indavara had a standing order to stay by his side but they’d barely exchanged a word. Cassius halted by the corral. His horse trotted over and he stroked its muzzle, happy the beast had recognised him.
‘I–I saw something,’ said Indavara. ‘I saw a man rise up out of a lake of fire. He spoke those words. I can still hear them.’
‘It’s your imagination,’ said Cassius. ‘You created that vision.’
‘Me? No. It was him — Elagabal.’
Cassius slapped a fence post in frustration. ‘Tell me this: how does an artist create a picture? How do we dream? The images come from within, not without.’
‘What about the voice?’
‘That I’m still not sure about, but-’
‘Corbulo, you don’t know everything.’
‘True, but I do know more than you. So listen to me. Remember those vicious bloody mercenaries in Antioch? Carnifex and his murdering mates? Who got us out of those holes? It wasn’t any god.’ Cassius prodded Indavara’s arm then pointed at himself. ‘It was you and me.’
While Indavara considered this, Cassius noted movement at the inner wall. The gate had opened to admit a column of horses. Once they were through, a group of guards came out, heading for the town. Two figures hurried past them. There was no mistaking the broad Khalima and his lean son.
Cassius gripped Indavara’s shoulder. ‘Pray to your Fortuna if you must. Do whatever you have to do. But get hold of yourself. I don’t know who I can trust. I don’t know how Mercator and the others will fare. I need you at your best.’
Indavara nodded.
‘By the gods,’ said Cassius. Fifty feet left of the gate, a body had appeared at the top of the wall. It was hanging from a rope, the face swollen and red. As word spread, faces turned.
‘The spy,’ said Indavara.
‘Poor bastard.’
Indavara then pointed at Khalima and Adayyid. ‘They’re alone. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?’
‘Be ready for anything.’
By the time the Saracens reached them, Khalima looked almost as anxious as when he’d left.
‘You won’t like what I have to tell you.’
Cassius had prepared himself for the worst. ‘Go on.’
‘Once he realised Ilaha had stolen the stone from Emesa, Uruwat had second thoughts about the new faces in my group. He questioned me, demanded I tell the truth.’
Cassius didn’t really want to hear any more but Khalima continued.
‘I did so. They wish to see you.’
‘They?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘I have been forbidden to say any more. You must come with me — to a meeting place in the town. You may bring Indavara but no one else.’
‘How do I know it’s safe?’
‘You don’t. But unless you cooperate there’s nothing stopping them turning you over to Ilaha.’ Khalima gestured towards the road. ‘I must accompany you. Shall we?’
The centre of the town seemed even more crowded. Men gathered outside every house and hostelry but few were drinking; most were packing up or cleaning weapons or loading carts. The initial shock and awe generated by the unveiling of the stone seemed to have been replaced by the earlier atmosphere of excited anticipation. Yet more horses had been brought into Galanaq and the road was slick with manure.
Cassius slipped in some of it and stumbled. Indavara grabbed his elbow and helped him avoid a particularly unpleasant-looking guard. Cassius thanked him and they hurried after Khalima. As they neared the gatehouse, he saw that the doors had been shut and that dozens of warriors were on duty. There were now five archers at the top of the tower.
‘See that?’ said Indavara.
‘I know.’
Khalima turned left down a side street, which was also overflowing with Saracen warriors. Two tribesmen were arguing with a middle-aged couple outside an inn. As Cassius and the others passed them, a group of guards arrived and intervened. Fortunately, the day had remained hot; the trio’s hoods drew little attention.
On either side of Galanaq’s central road there was space only for one parallel street. Khalima led them across it and into an alleyway. A hundred paces beyond was the shallow slope that led up to the side of the canyon. The only people nearby were an elderly man lying on a bench, apparently asleep; and two children playing with a kitten.
At the end of the alleyway, Khalima turned right. The third house they came to was a ruin. The roof had collapsed into the first floor and a cascade of blocks covered the doorway. Khalima took a brief look around, then stepped through a low window. Cassius and Indavara followed.
The ground floor of the dwelling was intact and surprisingly large. Above them was a wooden roof, ahead a staircase almost filled by another pile of blocks. As usual, Cassius could not stand up straight. As they removed their hoods, he looked over Khalima’s shoulder at the other side of the room.
Two figures stood by the rear door, barely visible in the shadows. One was notably bigger than the other. Cassius felt sure they were looking at him.