The table was overloaded with bread, fruit and meat, which were heaped on great silver platters, which were refilled when one of us went outside and cut more strips off the whole pig and side of beef that were roasting over fires. A shrill chatter filled the large tent as we all swapped stories about the previous few days, wildly embellished as the wine flowed freely. Burebista regaled us with how he had, with but a handful of horse, defeated the entire cavalry wing of the Roman army, allowing me to ‘sneak round the back’ of the enemy and attack them from behind. Nergal said that the sky had been filled with so many of our arrows that they had blocked out the sun. Praxima boasted that she had killed as many Romans as any man, a claim that I doubted not. Eventually all of us fell silent and waited for Spartacus to tell us how he had defeated the Romans, despite their superior numbers. He sat with one leg over an arm of his chair and a cup of wine in one of his large hands.
‘We fought them in a wide valley, between two great forests of trees that covered the hillsides. I knew that we had a chance if we didn’t allow them to turn our flanks, so we formed a battle line across the whole of the valley, from one treeline to the next. But it was mighty thin. We drew up our cohorts in three lines, but the third line was held back and given strict orders not to attack until I gave the order. They came at us with banners flying and trumpets blaring, I counted four eagles but there may have been more. They tried to soften us up with archers and slingers, but the men locked shields and took their fire. Then they charged us, their whole front line, throwing their javelins and then running at us with their swords drawn. But all those hours spent on the training field paid off for us, for our men loosed their javelins and then used their own swords. And we stood and fought them, fought them long and hard for hours, fought them to a standstill. I know because I was there, listening to the screams and shouts, seeing the injured being hauled back, and shouting encouragement with the rest of the third line. For what seemed like hours thousands of men hacked and shoved and bled and died. But I knew that we were stronger and better, and I gave the order for the first two lines to fall back. And then the Romans thought that they had won, but as their exhausted lines stumbled forward we hit them with our third line, a screaming, frenzied mass of iron. We raced forward and stabbed like men possessed at their bellies and groins, disemboweling men where they stood. When we hit them they were still legions, but then they buckled, turned and fled. We followed them, snapping at their heels like wolves. Then their whole army dissolved and the killing began. Romans trampled other Romans to death, many met death on the point of our swords, and others ran so fast that their insides ruptured, their mouths foamed blood and they died without a mark on them. Their horse made good their escape but thousands of legionaries never left that valley. Our own dead numbered less than two hundred, with another three hundred wounded, but Akmon reckons that six thousand Romans were killed that day.’
‘It is true, lord,’ said Akmon.
‘The Romans have no armies left,’ said Castus, raising his cup to Spartacus, ‘you have destroyed them, lord.’
We all drained our cups and banged them on the table and cheered Spartacus. He raised his hands and gestured for us to desist.
‘I fear, my friends, that are many more Romans left.’
‘But there are none to stop us leaving Italy,’ I said.
Claudia had been silent while Spartacus had been speaking, and had remained seated and downcast as we toasted him. Now she looked at us with her large brown eyes, which seemed to fix all of us with their cool stare.
‘The talons of the eagle holds all of us still,’ she hissed.
It was a strange comment, but then Claudia was given to making obtuse remarks and I merely put it down to the fact that she was not a man and did not understand war. Rome had had its talons well and truly clipped, on both feet! In any case, she cheered up later when she sauntered over to where Gallia and I were seated and began probing us with questions.
‘You two seem very happy.’
‘Good company and fine wine, what more could a man want? I beamed.
‘A soul mate with whom to share his life,’ she retorted, her eyes darting from me to Gallia.
I looked down and could feel my cheeks becoming hot.
‘There is no need to be shy, Pacorus,’ she continued, ‘I’ll wager that many men would jump at the chance of marrying Gallia.’
‘Who said anything about marriage?’ queried Gallia, grinning at Claudia.
‘Is the thought disagreeable to you, my friend.’
‘Not entirely disagreeable,’ mused Gallia.
‘And he is a handsome catch,’ Claudia began to stroke my hair, ‘and he does have a nice horse.’
‘That’ true, I’m very fond of Remus.’
‘I’ll fetch some wine.’ I stood up, but in my eagerness to get away from being embarrassed further I tripped on a leg of my chair and was sent sprawling on the floor. All conversations stopped as I lay on the wooden boards. Akmon frowned, as I scrambled to my feet, probably assuming that I was drunk. Spartacus observed me with a cool detachment while Gafarn and Burebista grinned to each other and Nergal looked concerned.
‘Pacorus has an announcement,’ said Claudia, pointing at me. Once again I felt my cheeks colour.
‘I do?’ All eyes were on me now as I stood in front of the table. I was suddenly transported back to my childhood, to when I was hauled before my father for taking a horse from the royal stables without his permission. It was an uncomfortable experience, and my present situation was beginning to resemble it. I had been given a good thrashing that day; I hoped that this evening would end happier.
Spartacus leaned forward, intrigued. ‘Well?’
I glanced at Gallia, who seemed to be enjoying my discomfort.
‘Good news should be spared, Pacorus,’ remarked Claudia. ‘To keep it to yourself is selfish, but as your tongue seems to have deserted you, shall I relate your news?’
This was too much. ‘I have asked Gallia to be my wife,’ I blurted out.
The room erupted in cheering and reverberated to the sound of dagger hilts being banged on the table. Spartacus left his chair and embraced me, while Akmon and Castus slapped me hard on the shoulder. Godarz and Rhesus offered me their hand and Diana and Praxima planted kisses on my cheek. Rubi jumped up and down like a cat on hot coals. All offered their congratulations to Gallia, and Nergal slightly embarrassed me by kneeling before me with his head bowed. I hauled him to his feet. ‘We are not in Hatra now, Nergal.’
Gafarn embraced Gallia. ‘Wedding feasts are lavish occasions in Hatra, lady. All the kings of the empire will be invited, I have no doubt. King Varaz is a generous host, not like his son. And all the people will love your blonde hair. Parthian women are all dark and plump, not slim and beautiful like you.’
‘May I remind you, Gafarn, that my mother and sisters are all Parthian,’ I said.
‘Well, apart from your mother and sisters and few others,’ he corrected himself. ‘Did I ever tell you that it was mooted that Prince Pacorus might marry the Princess Axsen. Now she is plump, well fat, really…’
‘Shut up!’ I ordered.
‘You won’t marry here, among your friends?’ asked Spartacus.
‘Well,’ I stammered, ‘I had thought that we would be leaving Italy soon.’
‘It takes only an afternoon to be married,’ he said.
‘What do you say on this matter, Gallia?’ asked Claudia.
‘These people are my family, Pacorus, and I would like them to be witnesses to our betrothal.’
‘Out-foxed yet again, highness,’ beamed Gafarn. ‘It’s a good job you’re a warrior and not a diplomat.’