"Together they fled from the drafty old fort and made their way south and west by secret ways, into the great central plateau of Persia, where all her true riches lie-for there among wide plains and grazing fields are the domains of the diquans and their knights and the very strength of Persia. Khusro intended to find support amongst old friends of his father and raise an army to reclaim his throne. But the prince, though brave, was still young and Bahram was old and sly with treachery. Some of the great nobles rose up for the young king, but more joined the armies of the Wooden King and the prince's revolt was violently suppressed.
"Khusro escaped, and lived, only because there was no man upon that field, or on any other, who could match Shahr-Baraz with lance or sword or spear. The Boar hewed his way from the melee, slaughtering hundreds, and the two rebels escaped into the mountains. This time, the Wooden King found a body resembling the prince and carried the dead boy back to Ctesiphon in a great funeral procession. That boy was buried, as if Prince Khusro had died, and Bahram Choban made himself truly king of kings. Everyone wept, thinking the young prince had fallen.
"Secretly Bahram's men searched everywhere, quartering the mountains and the hills, urgent to find the Boar and the prince. By luck and skill, they failed, and the Boar took the prince north, beyond the mountains of Persia and into the great grasslands surrounding the Salt Sea, where terrible savages roam and the winter is nine months long."
Shirin paused, thirsty, and drank from her cup. When she looked up, she saw more men had come out of the darkness and squatted or stood around the little circle of light from the candle lantern. No one spoke while she drank again and settled herself more comfortably on the deck.
"They would have died in that cruel winter, both the prince and the Boar, if they had not been found by a hunting party of the Khazar people, who rule those lands. Now, know this-the Persians and the Khazars are old enemies, who long fought over the land called Albania, and there was long enmity between them. Yet, know this as well; there have never been two braver men than Shahr-Baraz and Khusro. The two were taken to the camps of the Khazar kagan and made his guests and they spent a long winter there, in peak-roofed Itil, on the banks of the black-watered Rha. Khusro was without fear and he put his case to the kagan and asked him for help to reclaim the throne, which had been stolen from him by the Wooden King.
"Now, in those days, the Khazar people were ruled by a kagan whose name was Sahul Ziebil and despite his short years, he was very wise. Sahul saw Khusro was a man of honor, with a great heart, and-perhaps-peace might be struck between the two nations. Sahul himself was not without daring and when spring came he sent a strong party of riders to guide the prince, and Shahr-Baraz, to the Roman port of Chersonessos. With them went a letter, for the Khazars and the Eastern Empire long maintained a correspondence, particularly in regards to matters of Persia, their common foe.
"So it was that Prince Khusro and his champion, Shahr-Baraz, came to Constantinople, the city of gold, and met in secret with Emperor Maurice. The Emperor was astonished-he had thought to be meeting a Khazar delegation-not the lost king of Persia! Yet he treated Khusro with honor and as an equal, placing a seat at his side for the young prince. All three realms were exhausted by endless war and longed for peace. Maurice and Chrosoes made a pledge that summer in Constantinople and Maurice sealed the pact with the marriage of his daughter, Maria, to the young prince. An Eastern army, and Maurice's aid, were her dowry. Khusro would yet be king of Persia."
Shirin stopped speaking, her voice grown hoarse. It had been years since she told such a long story. The crowd of young Romans had grown again and some sailors hung from the rigging to listen. She smiled at Florus and Marcus. "Your pardon, I am tired and my voice is failing. I will finish the story tomorrow."
With that she stood and left the circle of faces. In the darkness outside of the lantern light, Florus stopped her, his face shadowed and indistinct. Shirin stiffened, wondering if he would try and overpower her. The iron knife was in her hand, hidden under the robe.
"That was well told," Florus said gruffly. "Takes their mind off this cursed voyage. Here."
Shirin felt something thick and woolen press into her hands and she took the blanket. "Thank you."
The centurion mumbled something, then padded off into the darkness on his bare feet. The centurion looked a little bilious in the poor light. Shirin curled up among the crates, glad to lie out under a starry sky, in the open air, the blanket folded under her head as a pillow. Sleep stole over her gently, and for the first time since she woke on the Pride of Cos to a vast rumbling sound, like giants banging on a bronze gong, she slept without nightmares.
Shirin settled on the deck, at the edge of a rough circle made by Florus' soldiers. Marcus, blushing a little and ignoring the comments of his fellows, passed her a blanket for a cushion. Shirin was a little disappointed the great crowd of soldiers and sailors who listened the previous night were nowhere to be seen. But, really, it didn't matter. The group of young soldiers fed her again and she felt pleasantly full. That was welcome change enough!
"So," she began, "Prince Khusro invaded Persia at the head of a Roman army, accompanied not only by his boon companion Shahr-Baraz, but by his father-in-law Emperor Maurice and many other Persian exiles. The Wooden King was not well loved and as Khusro marched against Ctesiphon from the west, many lords who loved his father flocked to his banner. There were battles in the land between the two rivers and Bahram Choban was defeated, his supporters scattered, and Khusro set upon the Peacock Throne, adorned with gold and pearl.
"There was peace too, between Persia and Rome-for Khusro found a new father in Emperor Maurice-and between Persia and the Khazars, who had rendered him such timely aid. Khusro became a great king-he restored order and law to the Persian lands-and he defeated the T'u-chueh who so plagued his father. He was happy with his wives and Empress Maria bore him a son. The wise men of the court named him 'Anushirwan'-he of the great soul. In all things, it seemed the young king would preside over a glorious age of peace."
Shirin's face darkened, and she stopped, taking a drink from her copper cup. There was a sour taste in her mouth.
"One day, a messenger arrived in haste from the West. The man brought terrible news-Empress Maria's father, Emperor Maurice, had been overthrown and murdered, along with his entire family. A base-born centurion named Phocas seized the Eastern purple. Khusro was outraged-a man he honored as a father was dead-and Maria was distraught. Her own brothers and sisters strangled, her mother hacked to bits on the highway, their heads displayed in the Forum. She demanded Khusro punish the murderer Phocas. He demurred-there was a treaty, an honorable peace… Maria did not care, she wanted vengeance and more, she wanted her son Kavadh-Siroes to sit on her father's throne."
A stir went through the circle of Romans and Shirin heard them hiss in surprise.
"Yes," she said softly, "the boy was heir to the Eastern throne, the grandson of an Emperor, son of the king of kings. In him, by blood, both Persia and the Eastern Empire united. Yet Khusro heeded his advisors, who counseled peace. Shahr-Baraz was first among them, urging his oath brother to abide by the treaty. Phocas, as fate revealed, was a cruel and rapacious man and quite mad. Shahr-Baraz believed the Romans would soon overthrow him. Then, said the Boar, when Phocas was dead-Kavadh-Siroes might be welcomed as Emperor.