The gap between the two formations rapidly narrowed and when they were no more than a hundred paces away from the line of camels, Ajax raised his hand and reined in. 'Halt!'
The column clopped to a standstill and the men sat in their saddles, both hands holding on to their reins. The camels approached steadily and then, when they were within javelin range, their leader called out an order and they slowed and stopped. The riders wore dark robes and headdresses and held their weapons in an overhand grip, ready to hurl them the instant they received the order.
Ajax cleared his throat and raised a hand in greeting. 'We come as friends. I wish to speak with Prince Talmis.' He nodded to Hepithus and the Nubian spoke with the leader of the patrol, then turned to Ajax.
'He asks who you are.'
'Then tell him that I am Ajax, the gladiator, leader of the rebellion against Rome on the island of Crete, and I have come to offer my services to Prince Talmis, against our common enemy.'
Hepithus translated and there was a short pause before the leader of the patrol spoke again.
'He wants us to hand our weapons over to his men. Then he will escort us into their camp.'
Karim edged his mount forward and spoke quietly. 'General, it would not be wise to venture any further without the means to defend ourselves.'
Ajax took a deep breath and shook his head. 'We will do as he says. Swords out!'
There was a chorus of steely rasps as his men drew their weapons and held them ready. The Nubians stirred uneasily and several raised their javelins.
'Throw them down!' Ajax ordered and tossed his sword to one side. His men followed suit, save Karim who watched the Nubians warily.
'Do as I say,' Ajax hissed angrily. 'Now.'
Karim swung his arm down and the sword stuck into the ground close by the heel of his boot. The leader of the patrol shouted an order and four of his men made their camels kneel before they slid from the saddles and ran across to the column of horsemen to gather up the weapons. They hurried back and placed them in their saddle buckets before remounting and urging their camels back on to their feet. There was a brief series of throaty grunts from the camels before all was still again. The patrol leader gestured to Ajax to follow him and turned his camel towards the camp. Half his men followed him, and the rest waited for the horsemen to pass by before taking up the rear.
As they entered the camp, the nearest Nubians stood up and watched curiously as they passed by. The odour of manure and woodsmoke filled the air and Ajax cast a professional fighter's eye over the warriors of Prince Talmis's army. Those on the outer fringes of the camp were lightly armed, barely more than simple tribesmen armed with hunting spears and hide shields. Some had bows, or javelins. What they may have lacked in equipment they made up for in numbers. Ajax estimated there must be at least fifteen thousand of them. The next section of the camp was given over to men with swords and armour. Many wore breastplates over long robes and bronze helmets rimmed with linen to shade their faces and necks. There were several thousand of these armoured warriors and Ajax felt his heart lighten at the prospect of the odds facing the far smaller Roman army camped downriver.
Ahead lay the open patch of ground surrounding the complex of tents belonging to Prince Talmis and his generals, Ajax surmised. To their right, in the bend of the river, thousands of horses and camels grazed on the crops of the Egyptian peasants, or drank from the river.
The leader of the patrol halted as he was approached by several of the spearmen guarding the perimeter around the tents. A few words were exchanged and the commander of the spearmen stared suspiciously for a moment before he waved the riders through and pointed to a line of tethering posts a short distance from the tents. Ajax's men were escorted by the camel riders and the spearmen and when they reached the posts, Ajax gave the command for his men to dismount and stand by their horses. One of the spearmen trotted off to the nearest tent and a moment later an officer, in ornate flowing robes and a gleaming vest of scale armour, emerged. He strode up to Ajax and looked him over with dark, deep-set eyes.
'I am told you wish to speak to my Prince.' He spoke in fluent Greek.
'I do.' Ajax nodded. 'I intend to offer him the services of myself and my warriors.'
The officer turned his gaze on Ajax's men, noting their powerful physiques and the scars that many bore on their faces and limbs.
'Are you deserters?'
'We are gladiators.'
'Slaves then,' the officer sneered.
'No longer. We took our freedom with our own hands and have been fighting Rome ever since. Rome is our enemy, as it is yours. That is why we offer our service to your Prince.'
'And what can you offer him that his own men can't, I wonder?'
'This.' Ajax smiled and reached for the sacks tied across the back of his horse. He hauled them down and dropped them heavily on the ground at the feet of the officer. The spearmen tensed and lowered the tips of their spears a fraction, ready to strike. Ajax bent down to untie the tops of the sacks and then reached into the first. He drew out a bundle of red cloth and tossed it to the officer. The latter did not flinch as he caught it and unravelled the material to expose a red standard, cut from its jack. It carried the legend 'Legatus' in gold letters, and beneath, smeared with dried blood, 'Candidus'.
The officer smiled. 'So, slave, you stole the personal banner of the Roman general? Impressive, but my Prince needs warriors, not common thieves.'
'We did more than steal his banner, my friend.' Ajax reached further into the sack with both hands and drew out a severed head. He raised it by the hair and held it aloft. The skin was mottled and the eyelids half open over dull eyes. The jaw was slack and the teeth gleamed behind blackened lips. The warm air was filled with the stink of decaying flesh and the officer's nose wrinkled. He took a step back.
'May I introduce Legate Caius Candidus, lately commander of the Roman army camped at Diospolis Magna. I have his ring hand in the bag as further proof of his identity. The other sack contains the heads of the officers who were riding with him when my men and I attacked the legate and his escort five days ago.'
The interior of the Prince's tent was spacious and the ground covered with rugs and cushions. Light entered through slits in the roof held up by several stout posts. Ajax was standing in the middle of the tent, lit from above so that his body was framed with a faint halo as he faced the Prince. Talmis lay on a couch to the rear of the tent. He wore a white robe and bejewelled gold rings adorned his dark fingers. Like Ajax he was powerfully built and the outline of his muscled limbs was evident beneath the light folds of his robes. The Nubian Prince's face was broad and a finely trimmed beard ran neatly round his jaw.
On a large brass platter between the two men lay the heads of the Roman officers and the ring hand of Candidus. Talmis regarded them for a moment before his gaze moved up to the gladiator standing before him, flanked by two watchful spearmen from the Prince's bodyguard.
'It is customary for visitors to kneel before me.' Talmis spoke Greek, like many of the more educated members of his father's court. His tone was neutral but Ajax was well aware of the veiled threat implied by the words. Nonetheless, he remained standing and put the onus on the Prince to continue speaking.
'Why do you not kneel to me, gladiator? I can hardly believe that your Roman masters did not teach you the deference demanded of a slave.'