‘There was a turn to the right after about twenty feet. We shall go in as far as we can. You first.’
Simo helped his master up the high step then advanced slowly into the tomb.
One hand flat against the cool, rough rock, Cassius limped after him. He had counted eight paces when Simo cried out.
Something struck Cassius in the face. As he tottered backwards, his ankle gave way and he fell onto his backside.
‘Where are you?’ demanded a voice in the darkness. ‘Where are you?’
‘Simo, what-’
Something heavy landed on Cassius’s chest. Scrabbling fingers reached for him. He lashed out and caught his assailant on the head but the fingers were now around his neck and tightening. Spit landed on his face.
‘Why are you alive? Why you?’
Cassius recognised the voice but more pressing concerns prevented him from working out who it was. He gripped the man’s wrists and tried to wrench them away but the attacker was heavy and strong; stronger than him.
He heard movement, then an impact. The assailant groaned and suddenly the weight was gone.
‘Sir.’
Simo reached down and took his hand. Cassius got to his knees then Simo helped him to his feet. They retreated side by side.
‘You,’ cried the voice, more desperate than angry now. ‘Why you and not him?’
Cassius drew his dagger. ‘I have a blade. Come near us and I’ll cut you.’
The man groaned again.
Cassius stopped. ‘Wait, Simo.’ He could hear crying.
‘Why him?’ implored the voice.
‘Gods. Khalima?’
He had been hiding deep within the tomb, and led Cassius and Simo around three more turns to a small chamber. They sat there in silence while the attendant took out his fire-starting kit. Cassius knew from experience that despite his other deficiencies, Simo could carry out the whole procedure even in this utter darkness. Before long the striker was clashing against the flint. At the second attempt, Simo lit some kindling, then a candle.
Khalima was in a bad way. A gash across his forehead was oozing blood and he had several more cuts on his hands and arms. His tunic had been torn down the middle, exposing his muscled chest and considerable paunch. His face was paler than the rest of him.
‘What the …?’
Cassius felt a presence close by, as if someone had crept up next to him. He turned and saw a body lying not two yards away. He scrabbled backwards until he was pressed against the wall beside Simo.
‘Oh my Lord,’ said the Gaul.
Khalima was gazing at the candle. ‘My boy. He came to my aid but he’d been cut close to the heart. He died just after we got here.’
Adayyid was lying on his back at the far end of the chamber, his head turned away from them.
Cassius could find no adequate words.
‘The others?’ he said eventually.
Khalima seemed entranced by the flower of light. Blood trickled between his eyes and onto his nose. ‘My stupidity, my greed, has cost them all their lives.’
‘What about Uruwat? Enzarri?’
‘I have seen no sign of them. The German and his men remain in control. I believe the ethnarchs must have failed. I believe Ilaha is still alive.’
Cassius squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. In what was looking like an increasingly hopeless situation for him, his allies and the entire bloody province for that matter, he had been allowed one small blessing: time to think. He resolved to do exactly that.
‘How did you get up here?’ Simo asked Khalima after a while.
‘Reinforcements came from the cavern, led by the German. Adayyid and I got past him and through the gate. There were guards everywhere but they were occupied by the fire. We followed the inner wall up to the side of the canyon then came here. After Adayyid took his last breath I wept awhile. And then I heard you.’
Khalima looked at his son’s body. ‘Can you cover him with something?’
‘Of course.’
Simo took a blanket from his pack and gently laid it over Adayyid’s head and lean frame.
‘That is a deep cut,’ he told Khalima. ‘May I treat you?’
‘It matters not.’
‘Please.’
‘There is no point.’
‘Let him help you, Khalima,’ said Cassius.
‘They will come for us, Roman. You know they will.’
‘They’re not here yet.’
Khalima gave in.
Simo wetted a cloth and cleaned the wound. ‘There is dirt and hair in there. I shall have to pick it out.’
Cassius wasn’t watching. He had his eyes shut again, and by the time he opened them, Simo had treated and dressed the wound.
‘Sir, I should check your ankle.’
‘Not now.’
‘Look at the state of us,’ said Khalima. ‘We won’t even be able to put up a fight.’
‘Fighting can’t save us now anyway,’ replied Cassius.
‘Nothing can.’
‘Having given the matter some consideration, I’m not entirely sure that’s true.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think you’re correct to surmise that the assassination attempt failed. Which almost certainly means that Uruwat, Mushannaf and Enzarri are dead. Their warriors will want to know what happened and there’s no real reason for Ilaha to keep it secret. Even if the men of their three tribes want revenge, there aren’t enough of them to take on Ilaha’s men and the warriors of the loyal ethnarchs — who will probably be even more loyal now.’
Khalima shook his head. ‘This was madness. We have made his position even stronger.’
‘But he has lost his precious stone. That he will try and keep quiet as long as possible. Some of the guards will know already, of course, but he can keep that contained. But the other tribes? All that talk of the sun god favouring him, of their fates being tied together …’
Khalima was starting to look a little more hopeful.
‘Uruwat’s men,’ said Cassius. ‘Would they betray you?’
‘That depends on Urunike — he is in charge now.’
‘Might he be persuaded to help us?’
‘His father has just been killed. I imagine he might.’
Cassius leaned forward. ‘Then we may still have a chance of ridding this province of Ilaha and escaping this place alive.’
‘Go on.’
‘It’s simple. You just tell Urunike and the men of your tribe that the black stone has been taken. And you ask them to pass it on into every inn and every house and every tent until by dawn there isn’t a single person in Galanaq who doesn’t know.’
‘And then?’
‘It’s hard to predict what will happen. But one thing’s certain: Lord Ilaha, we and everyone else will discover if Mighty Elagabal really is on his side.’
XXXIII
It was Ulixes who finally called a halt. They hadn’t stopped once and the weary horses pulling the cart were beginning to falter and drift alarmingly close to the cliff-edge. The auxiliaries were so intent on escaping that Indavara had to bellow at them to stop. Ulixes threw down the reins then dropped to the ground. Mercator trotted back to the cart with Yorvah and Andal, who had opened the shutter of the lantern he was carrying. Mercator saw the condition of the horses and instructed the guard officers to swap them. Three of the men were leading fresh mounts for this very purpose.
‘Third one’s for me,’ said Ulixes as he checked his money bag was still secure inside his tunic. ‘I’ve done more than my bit — this is where we part company.’
‘You’re bloody handy with that cart,’ said Mercator. ‘Why not stay with us?’
‘How about an angry German giant and however many hundred warriors he has with him?’ Ulixes pointed down the trail. The dots of lights were quite clear. ‘I doubt we’ve more than half an hour on them now. Unless you leave the cart, of course. Then we can all make it.’
Indavara jumped down beside the ex-legionary. ‘We came here for the stone.’