Parthian Dawn (12 page)

‘If that happens, my friend,’ I said, ‘you will become king. All those present will bear witness to my wish.’

‘At least let me go with you, Pacorus,’ said Nergal, his eyes full of pleading.

‘I will think on it. We will leave tomorrow.’

I told Nergal that he would be staying at Dura.

Chapter 5

T
he new day dawned bright and sunny with a light breeze blowing from the west. Rasha was in a good mood and was even more talkative than usual. There was now no resemblance to the frightened, haunted little wretch we had first seen when we arrived at Dura. In her place was a pretty, inquisitive and intelligent girl who skipped around the palace. She always accompanied me when I went to the stables to groom Remus, and in truth I became quite fond of her. But it was Gallia who was the focus of her affections, and whenever she and her Amazons rode out of the city to the training fields Rasha went with them. As to be expected of a child of nomads, she was at ease in the saddle and could ride as well as any adult. She had her own room in the palace, next to ours, and everyone liked having her around, even the normally stern Domitus. So it was quite poignant when the morning came for her to leave us. After the garrison had mustered just after dawn Gallia, Byrd and I mounted our horses in front of the palace steps alongside the waiting Rasha. Byrd was his usual seemingly disinterested self, though his horse looked remarkably well tended and fed — no doubt Godarz’s influence. When I had asked Byrd to accompany us into the desert he had accepted in a nonchalant fashion, and merely shrugged when I told him that we might not be coming back. Those who were assembled to see us off — Godarz, Nergal, Praxima, Rsan and Domitus — appeared not the least calm. Even the iron-hard Domitus was frowning with concern.

‘Are you certain about this, majesty?’ queried Rsan.

‘Quite certain,’ I answered.

And so we trotted from the courtyard, through the Citadel’s gates and west down the main street of the city through the Palmyrene Gate into the desert, Byrd out in front. Many people fear the desert and in truth it is an unforgiving environment, hot during the day and bitterly cold at night, the abode of snakes and scorpions. The parched white bones of dead animals lying in mute testimony to the desert’s harshness. But the desert is also beautiful and serene. The wide-open spaces and lack of people allowing one to think and be at peace with its vastness. Its yellow and brown hues, the lush green of its oases and the stark outlines of the many outcrops give the desert a unique appearance that I always found invigorating. In truth I loved the desert and found journeying through it gave me an inner calm. I think it was the quiet, the absolute silence that pervades the desert that made me react to it the way I did. Even Rasha fell silent after the first morning.

We encountered no traffic on the track that wound its way west towards the oasis settlement of Palmyra, once a thriving trade centre but now the capital of the Agraci. This would have been the same route that Mithridates had taken during his abortive campaign against them, and the road the few survivors used in their flight back to Dura. I prayed to Shamash that we would not suffer the same fate.

That night we cooked and ate a brace of rabbits that we had brought from the city. Byrd found us some firewood from an abandoned wagon that we passed during the afternoon, and we sat around the fire as it cast our faces in an eerie red glow. Byrd had questioned us lighting a fire, but I told him that we were not on a scouting mission. The night was cool and so Gallia wrapped Rasha in a blanket and put a woollen cap on her head.

Rasha gnawed the meat from a small thighbone and then looked at Gallia. ‘Can I visit you again?’

Gallia smiled. ‘Of course, if you wish.’

‘Good. I like my room, and when I visit you I can put some of my own things in it.’

How innocent the world seemed through the eyes of a young child. I saw Byrd staring at Rasha. I wondered if he was thinking of his own family, now long dead, and his former life. If he was he never said. The next day he rode beside me with Rasha between Gallia and myself. On our right, in the distance, sat a long, squat limestone plateau, while on our left was an expanse of sand and rocks. A glint of light caught my eye and I squinted towards the plateau.

‘We are being watched,’ said Byrd casually.

‘By whom?’ asked Gallia.

Byrd nodded towards Rasha. ‘By her people.’

We saw nothing untoward for the rest of the morning and by noon it felt as though the sun was cooking us in a giant stone bowl, so we laid up in the lee of an outcrop forming part of a granite ridge extending to the north. We unsaddled the horses and used the saddles as back supports as we rested in the shade. I caught sight of a lizard scurrying between the rocks while overhead a buzzard glided effortlessly in the sky. After two hours we saddled the horses to continue our journey. The first hour was uneventful. Once again we appeared to be the only people in the barren landscape. But then I caught sight of a group of riders that suddenly appeared on our left flank, around a quarter of a mile distant. Their black shapes on black horses shimmering in the haze. Byrd rode up to me.

‘Our escort has arrived, lord.’

‘So it seems. You had better stay close.’

‘What do we do now?’ asked Gallia.

‘We carry on, my sweet.’

As we continued our trek west another party of horsemen, six in number, appeared on our right flank, at a similar distance to those on our left. The terrain was becoming hillier now, great sandstone slabs rising out of the ground. We ambled around one such pillar of stone and were confronted by line of at least a score of warriors on horseback. Remus, sensing danger, whinnied in alarm and we halted.

Each warrior was armed with a spear and sword at his waist. On their heads they wore turbans that covered the lower half of their faces. Only their dark eyes were visible. They carried large round shields on their left sides and wore black flowing robes covering their arms and legs. They were mounted on horses that could only be described as beautiful. Parthians love their horses, but I could see that this group of Agraci also held their mounts in high esteem. Their horses were big and powerful, deep chested with short heads, broad foreheads and wide jowls. They were a mixture of greys and chestnuts. Each one was wearing a red halter decorated with cowries and other adornments, finished with two groups of tassels, one on each side of the noseband. The tassels were braided, with the tops gathered and secured by gold threads. The horses’ chest sets were also decorated with coloured beads, cowries and golden silk threads, while red and gold tassels adorned each rider’s saddle.

One rider had halted in front of the group. He was a large, broad-shouldered individual who carried no spear or shield; his only weapons a curved sword with a white horn handle in a black sheath with a gold tip. He nudged his horse forward until he was around twenty paces from mine, fixing me with his black eyes as he did so. He halted and looked at Rasha then removed his turban to reveal a big, square-shaped face with a long nose and a thick, close-cut black beard. He dismounted from his horse and smiled at Rasha.

‘Have you no greeting for your father?’ His voice was deep, his coarse accent typical of the desert peoples.

‘Father!’ Rasha jumped from her horse and ran over to him. He scooped her up in his long arms and held her close. Then putting her down he examined her closely, no doubt to make sure she had not been harmed. Thankfully the marks on her ankles where she had been chained had disappeared. He stood up to face me, his right arm around her shoulder. He said nothing as he regarded us, while behind him his men eyed us menacingly. I decided to break the silence.

‘My lord, my name is…’

‘I know who you are, Pacorus, King of Dura, but I am intrigued as to why you would bring your queen with you?’ He glanced at Byrd. ‘And you bring so few warriors. Where is your army, your famed legion?’

‘I did not think it proper, lord, to enter your kingdom with an army at my back.’

His face betrayed no emotion as he no doubt weighed up our fate. ‘And now you expect me to let you return to your city unmolested?’

‘That is your prerogative, lord. My only thought was to return your daughter to you and therefore atone for the injustice done to your family by my predecessor.’

‘A Parthian army rides into my kingdom, attacks my people and steals my daughter. Parthians are not welcome here.’

‘I am not a Parthian, King Haytham’ said Gallia, ‘so what will you do with me?’

Haytham was taken aback. No doubt a woman had never spoken to him thus, or indeed anyone. Then the semblance of a smile creased his lips.

‘So, you are the famed Queen Gallia, the beauty from overseas who fights like a man. You too we have heard of. No doubt you have heard that we are savages.’

‘I have heard much, lord,’ she replied, ‘but I judge people according to how I find them. I hope you are a man who does the same.’

He said nothing for a while but just stared at us. It was Rasha who broke the silence.

‘Where is your camp, father?’

Haytham looked at his daughter and smiled. ‘Not far. Shall we invite your friends to accompany us?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, ‘we have had a very tiring day.’

He looked up into the sky and then at us. ‘Come, you will enjoy my hospitality tonight.’

Rasha walked back to her horse and Gallia helped her into the saddle. Haytham vaulted back into his saddle and led the way to his camp. His warriors rode all around us, though their demeanour was not threatening. An hour later we trotted into the Agraci camp, a sprawling collection of black tents grouped around one of the many oases that dotted the desert. The camels and horses were tethered among the throng of date palms growing around the waterhole. After we dismounted our horses were taken from us. We were then shown to a large rectangular tent made of strips of woven camel hair laid over a wooden frame. The front section was tied open to allow air to circulate in the interior, and there were rugs on the floor. Moments later Rasha was at Gallia’s side, tugging at her hand for her to go and see her father’s camels. So off they went, leaving me alone with a tall, lean man about my age who had black tattoos on his cheeks. He had removed his turban to reveal long, straight black hair and no beard. He had olive skin and dark brown eyes.

‘My name is Prince Malik, the son of King Haytham.’ His voice was deep like his father’s.

‘I am pleased to meet you, Prince Malik.’

‘Can I get you anything, lord king?’

‘No, thank you.’

He bowed in a perfunctory manner and then turned to leave, stopped and looked back at me. ‘Thank you for returning my sister to us. My father has missed her greatly, as have I.’

With that he was gone. I took off my sword and laid it on the rug, then stretched out beside it. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of men talking and laughing and camels bellowing and roaring. Despite being in the midst of the Agraci I felt no sense of danger or threat, just relief that we had made initial contact with their leader and that he had spared our lives thus far. I must have dozed off, for I was rudely awakened by Gallia throwing herself onto the rug beside me.

‘That child has boundless energy,’ she said. I opened my eyes and saw that she had closed the tent flaps.

I was suddenly alarmed. ‘Where’s Byrd?’

‘Oh he’s all right. Last time I saw him he was deep in conversation with one of their warriors concerning a camel.’

‘Byrd, deep in conversation? Perhaps you were seeing a mirage.’

‘What’s a mirage?’

I propped myself up on an elbow to look at her. ‘An illusion created by the heat. Perhaps this is all an illusion and we are actually lying dead in the desert.’

‘Shut up, Pacorus. I need to get some rest before the feast tonight. It’s being given in our honour, apparently.’

‘Feast?’

‘Oh yes,’ she motioned for me to lie back down and rested her head on my shoulder. ‘You know, for a king you sometimes know so little.’

It was dark by the time we had rested and refreshed ourselves, and when Gallia opened the tent flaps two black-clad warriors were waiting to escort us to our feast. We walked among groups of warriors sitting around fires mostly ignoring us, though one or two did act with surprise when they saw Gallia’s blonde locks shimmering in the firelight as she passed. Haytham’s tent, a cavernous black structure, was pitched beside the water among the date palms. A guard took our swords before we entered the tent. Six warriors sitting in a circle momentarily halted all their talk as Gallia unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to the Agraci guard. We bowed our heads to Haytham and entered the tent. He rose when we entered and invited us to sit on his right side, the place of honour. Also present were Rasha and Malik, the young girl rushing up to Gallia and throwing her arms around her before pulling her by the hand to her place. I saw Byrd chatting to a man who looked as sullen and unkempt as he did. He raised a hand to me and carried on talking. Clearly he had found a kindred spirit. Rugs covered the floor and we sat down cross-legged in the circle.

Haytham clapped his hands and food and drink were brought in and served. This comprised jugs of water and large flat dishes piled high with stewed lamb served on a bed of rice and bread and sprinkled with pine nuts. While we ate I noticed that Haytham took only morsels from what was served, all the time looking at Gallia and me. After we had eaten, washed our hands in bowls of warm water and dried them, Haytham clapped his hands once more. The servants disappeared and the flaps of the tent were closed, leaving us alone with our host and what I took to be his senior commanders.

‘A most sumptuous meal, lord,’ I said. ‘I thank you for your hospitality.’

Haytham nodded. ‘It is given freely. But now, King Pacorus, we must talk of things more serious. What do you want of me?’

This Agraci king was clearly no fool. He knew that I could have sent his daughter back to him with a lowly escort of a few guards. I did not need to bring her myself. He knew this, as he also knew that my mission had a dual purpose. I decided to be direct and not insult his intelligence.