‘I remember that battle,’ remarked Malik, ‘the elephants turned and crashed into the ranks …’

  Remembering that he was in the palace of the king whose army had been routed by my army, the King of the Agraci fell silent.

  ‘It is the sign of a professional army that its commanders learn from past experiences,’ I said.

  ‘For immediate service,’ continued Shapur, ‘Sakastan can raise five thousand horsemen and ten thousand foot, not including the garrison of this city, which numbers a thousand men. The lords of the kingdom can raise perhaps another twenty thousand men, but they…’

  ‘Would be farmers and town militias,’ interrupted Gafarn.

  Shapur nodded.

  ‘How many horsemen are gathered at the lake?’ I asked Talib.

  ‘I estimate around forty thousand, lord,’ came the reply.

  An oppressive silence descended. By the look on everyone’s faces each was weighing up the odds, which would be stacked against Sakastan even if it had not lost its king and chief of the army. But Sigal was in state of shock, which would spread to the whole kingdom unless drastic action was taken. My eyes rested on the dagger in its sheath hanging from Praxima’s hip. She was deep in thought, toying with its handle.

  ‘Castration,’ I said out loud.

  ‘Are you revisiting the idea of a legion of eunuchs, Pacorus?’ enquired Gafarn.

  I frowned at him. ‘I’m glad you can find some humour in this predicament. No, I was thinking of Praxima’s idea of castrating Phanes.’

  ‘An excellent idea,’ agreed Gallia, ‘but it does not counter the threat of forty thousand enemy soldiers gathered in the north.’

  ‘It does, my sweet,’ I grinned, ‘because I intend to castrate those soldiers, figuratively speaking.’

  ‘What’s he carping on about?’ said Kalet.

  But Spartacus had grasped my idea. ‘Hit them now and hit them hard.’

  I pointed at him. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘What about Phanes, father?’ asked Isabella. ‘If you all march north, he will be free to attack from the south.’

  ‘You have a keen military mind, my dear,’ smiled Gafarn. ‘What do you say to that, Pacorus?’

  I looked at Malik and Kalet. ‘We are fortunate to have among us warriors who have raiding in their blood. To save Kalet and his men from drinking themselves to death in the less salubrious fleshpots of Sigal, I shall take them north. I also ask my friend and ally Malik to join us, as the Agraci are also adept at arriving unseen at an enemy’s door.’

  ‘A bold plan,’ admitted Gafarn, ‘though three thousand against forty is long odds.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Kalet, ‘I’ve fought longer odds.’

  ‘I will ride with you, uncle,’ announced Spartacus.

  ‘No,’ I told him, ‘you and your men, and women, will be riding south Lord Shapur.’

  Nergal was uncertain. ‘You will divide our forces?’

  I nodded. ‘We have little choice. Phanes wants Sakastan and has entered into some sort of pact with Aria and Drangiana. But I’m gambling on him letting others do the fighting for him. That was my impression when I heard he was trying to acquire allies at the Council of Kings not so long ago.’

  ‘Or we could march north with all our forces and engage the combined forces of Aria and Drangiana,’ suggested Spartacus.

  ‘We could,’ I agreed, ‘but for the fact those two kingdoms have not declared war on Sakastan.’

  Gafarn chuckled. ‘Though you are going to attack them anyway.’

  ‘At night,’ I said, ‘when they are least expecting it and we will be carrying no banners or identification. The worst thing we can do is wait for a declaration of war.’

  Spartacus was delighted. ‘Then we can also burn Puta?’

  ‘I suggest advancing to Carmania’s border first,’ I cautioned, ‘Salar does not want to be seen as the aggressor. But if Phanes offers battle by all means accept.’

  In all, twenty-six thousand soldiers would march south in the proceeding days, including all the squires of Hatra and Dura who would ride as cataphracts. It was a tactic I had used many times: place the squires in full armour in the battle line to more than double the number of heavy horsemen. They were all between the ages of fourteen and eighteen anyway and spent each and every day learning how to be a cataphract, in between cleaning their masters’ armour and tending to their own and their masters’ horses. Using such a ruse Dura suddenly trebled its number of cataphracts to three thousand and Hatra’s Royal Bodyguard increased to fifteen hundred steel-clad horsemen. It was all for show because Phanes would not offer battle.

  ‘Are you sure about that?

  Gallia stood framed in the doorway leading to our bedroom’s balcony, hands on hips. She was far from happy. I gave my spatha a final wipe with a cloth and replaced it in its scabbard.

  ‘I’ve met individuals like him before. They like others to get their hands dirty.’

  ‘I should be coming with you.’

  I walked over to her and gripped her shoulders.

  ‘This city is on the verge of panic and Salar is out of his depth.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Harsh.’

  ‘Harsh but true. You and the Amazons will stay here to fortify his courage and ensure he does not do anything rash. Ideally, he should be marching south with his army but if he left the city, the gods alone know what would happen.

  ‘I’m leaving the horse archers here for you to command.’

  A twinkle appeared in her eyes. ‘A thousand men plus the Amazons. You must be worried. Have no fear, I will clamp down hard on any sedition.’

  ‘Just try to reassure Salar that his kingdom is not about to fall. He needs time to get used to being a ruler, as does Isabella.’

  There was a knock at the door.

  ‘Enter,’ I said.

  In walked Azad, Marcus Sutonius and Kewab, all bowing before I indicated they should take a seat. A slave followed them in and also bowed.

  ‘Should I bring refreshments, highness?’

  I shook my head. The day was beginning to wane, the hills and mountains beyond the city bathed in early evening sunlight and turning pink and purple.

  ‘As I will be rising before dawn, I will make this quick. Azad, you will command the cataphracts when you and they march south with the other kings and Shapur.’

  ‘And his elephants,’ grumbled Azad.

  I nodded. ‘And his elephants. Try to act as a restraint on Shapur and particularly Spartacus. My nephew fancies himself as a modern-day Alexander of Macedon.’

  He looked surprised. ‘A king does not take lightly to being told what to do, especially the King of Gordyene.’

  ‘In tandem with the King of Hatra I’m sure you will both be able to make him see reason. We will need every man in the coming weeks.’

  I smiled at Gallia. ‘The queen will be the power behind the throne while we are away. She will command the garrison and Dura’s horse archers left in the city.’

  I looked at Marcus. ‘And talking of the city, I want you to assess the state of its fortifications. Bring anything that concerns you to the attention of the queen, she will allocate working parties to deal with any problems.’

  ‘Are you expecting a siege, majesty?’ asked the Roman engineer.

  ‘Possibly, it depends on how successful my raid is.’

  Kewab looked perturbed.

  ‘Is something wrong, commander?’ I enquired.

  ‘Forgive me, majesty, but do you not risk undermining the authority of King Salar whose city this is?’

  I gave him a sly smile. ‘That is where you come in. I want you to be his military adviser. Explain to him what our strategic options are.’

  ‘Limited,’ he shot back.

  ‘And shield him from the harsh truth,’ I advised. ‘It will avail us nothing if we buy the king time only for Salar to be filled with doubts. We need him strong and confident.’

  ‘What is our strategy, majesty?’ asked Marcus.

  ‘Kill Phanes, lay waste his kingdom and defeat the combined army of Aria and Drangiana,’ said Azad.

  I thought about Hamide’s words about what people called me in these parts.

  ‘We will endeavour to avoid killing any kings. If I have learned anything it is such actions breed strife and festering animosity. May the gods be with you all.’

  It was dusk when I finally flopped down on the bed and closed my eyes. I was feeling my age and hardly relished a few days of hard riding in the saddle. But it had to be done. There was another knock at the door.

  ‘Go away,’ I shouted.

  ‘Forgive me, highness,’ came the muffled reply from the corridor outside, ‘I have an urgent message for you.’

  I opened my eyes. ‘Enter.’

  The palace steward was apologetic and avoided any eye contact as he spoke.

  ‘Forgive me, highness, but there is a spice merchant called Vima outside the palace who is desirous to meet with you on a most urgent matter.’

  ‘Tell him to go away or he will be imprisoned,’ said Gallia.

  I stretched out my arms. ‘Wait. Show me where he is. Vima saved my life, the least I can do is thank him.’

  The corridors of the palace, which should have been filled with wedding guests and laughter, were hushed and empty as I followed the steward into the courtyard to the closed gates on the southern side. One had a door cut into it and a grill to allow guards to see outside the fortress from ground level. A gruff officer informed me that Vima was outside. I peered through the grill to see the trader pacing up and down.

  ‘Open the door,’ I commanded.

  The officer unbolted the lock and told two guards to accompany me outside.

  I waved them back. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

  The officer shrugged, opened the door and I stepped into the empty street outside the fortress. Vima smiled and bowed his head. The door slammed shut.

  ‘Thank you for seeing me, majesty.’

  ‘Thank you for saving my life. How may I help you?’

  He looked around to ensure no one was within earshot.

  ‘You ride north tomorrow?’

  I was taken aback. ‘How is it that a spice trader knows such things?’

  He tapped his sharp nose. ‘Any trader worth his salt keeps his ear to the ground, majesty, especially when the winds of war are blowing.’

  ‘Are they blowing?’

  He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Word is that a great army is mustering in the north, around the Dasht-I Nawar. A warrior such as the King of Dura would not wait until it came to him, I think.’

  I was intrigued. ‘So, what would he do?’

  ‘Strike first, when the enemy least expects it.’

  There was something about this Vima that troubled me. I sensed no threat. If he wanted me dead he could have let that veiled assassin at the wedding do it. So, what did he want?

  ‘I know this land, majesty, let me lead your men north tomorrow, through the mountains that will hide your approach.’

  ‘I have my own scouts,’ I told him.

  ‘They will lead you north along the Erymanthus, but the enemy have their own scouts that will detect your approach long before you get near their main body.’

  ‘Why would you wish to do that, to put yourself in unnecessary danger? You wish to win favour with the king?’

  He spread his arms and gave a wicked grin. ‘I have business interests in Sigal. If the city is burnt they will go up in smoke like everything else. My motives are purely selfish.’

  ‘If we fail, you might die.’

  ‘But I have heard that the King of Dura has never been defeated.’

  ‘I’m not old yet,’ I said, ‘there is still time.’

  For some strange reason I trusted him, this individual who I had met only twice before. Perhaps it was no coincidence that our paths had crossed; perhaps he was fated to help me, and Sakastan. But perhaps it was all an illusion and he would be leading us into a trap. But I kept returning to him saving me at the wedding. My sixth sense told me he could be trusted so I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

  ‘We will be exiting these gates before dawn, Vima. We will not wait for you.’

  He was waiting for us the next morning, mounted on a splendid grey stallion, sword strapped to his side and a spear in his right hand. The column of Agraci and desert lords and their retainers led by Malik and Kalet cantered from the fortress as I pulled up Tegha and nodded to the spice trader. I notice that like the rest of us he had bags of fodder hanging from his saddle.

  ‘Fine horse,’ I said.

  He looked at my bow tucking into its quiver. ‘The famous Parthian bow. I look forward to seeing it in action, majesty.’

  We set a hard pace, following the river north, Talib and his men riding ahead to ensure we did not encounter any nasty surprises. After I had explained to my chief scout that Vima could lead us straight to the enemy unseen, Talib agreed that the trader could ride with them. It saddened my heart to see the road largely empty of traffic, the caravans now avoiding Sakastan for fear of being caught up in the coming war.

  In two days we had covered over eighty miles and on the third we left the Erymanthus to strike east into the hills. But what if the enemy at the great lake was already moving south?

  That thought tortured me as we made our way through a mixture of arid and flat plateaus and verdant hilly terrain. My first impression of Sakastan had been of a kingdom that was harsh and barren, but here in the mountains there was no shortage of water and an abundance of lush terrain, interspersed with naked rock and stone. The number of streams surprised me, but Vima informed me that when the snows melted every spring it fed a plethora of streams, lakes and rivers.

  On the fourth day we dismounted and led our horses up a steep, rocky path that zigzagged up a narrow valley, the scree underfoot making the going slow and slippery. It was also conducted in the face of a biting northwesterly wind that smarted our eyes and made the horses drop their heads.

  After a couple of hours every step became harder as I struggled to keep a grip on the small stones. Men cursed as they fell and their horses grunted in alarm as they slipped but eventually we crested the hill and descended into a small densely wooded ravine. The wind disappeared, the sun shone and everyone heaved a huge sigh of relief. We made camp among the conifers, sheltered from the wind and having access to crystal-clear, fast-running streams providing invigorating cool water. Agraci and Durans disrobed to take the opportunity to wash their bodies, though guards had been posted at both ends of the ravine and Talib and his men ascended the slopes to keep watch for any enemy patrols.

  After I had unsaddled Tegha , watered him and rubbed him down, I too shed my clothes and immersed myself in an ice-cold stream. The dust and grime of the previous few days was literally blasted away and I felt much better for it.

  ‘They are nasty scars, majesty, though old I think.’

  I turned to see Vima, soaking wet, standing by the stream. His athletic frame did not have an ounce of fat on it and made him look even taller. His black hair was matted to his skull.

  ‘They resemble scars from a flogging.’

  I emerged from the stream and wrung out my hair.

  ‘You are correct. They are mementos from my days as a slave.’

  He threw me my leggings.

  ‘I have heard you were a slave of the Romans.’

  ‘It is an old story but true, nevertheless.’

  ‘There are no Romans in these parts,’ he said.

  I pulled on my boots. ‘I thank the gods for that at least.’

  ‘And yet there is still war.’

  I put on my silk vest, worn to lessen the effects of an arrow wound. An arrow spins in flight and if one went through my leather cuirass the silk would wrap itself around the turning arrowhead, making it easier to extract. That was the theory, at least, one that I had thankfully never put to the test.

  ‘There is still war because the Parthian Empire consists of independent kingdoms, each ruled by a monarch who is supposed to adhere to the wishes of the high king.’

  I strapped on my sword belt. ‘But if the high king stokes rivalries and conflicts then the empire can soon find itself enmeshed in conflict.’

  ‘You have no confidence in High King Phraates?’

  ‘I have every confidence in him to behave like a high king,’ I replied, ‘but at the moment he is like a sword blade that is yet to be tempered. Rulers like Phanes seek to further their own ends by taking advantage of his immaturity.’

  Vima appeared to be fascinated. ‘I have heard that the kings of the east are not committed to Phraates, seeing him as too young to be high king.’

  ‘He is young,’ I agreed, ‘but he is the legitimate heir. The only heir.’

  His narrow, thin eyebrows rose but he said nothing more. He seemed to know much about Sakastan and I wondered if he had knowledge of Vartan. Perhaps it would have been better to have killed Vartan when he arrived in Sigal, but I enjoyed the benefit of hindsight. Alas for Peroz and Roxanne. It was all irrelevant now, anyway, Phanes would have to pay for the murder of my friends.

  We rested a day in the ravine before moving out for the final leg of the journey. Vima rode ahead with Talib and his scouts, Malik questioning me about the spice trader.

  ‘He does not look like a merchant,’ remarked the King of the Agraci.

  ‘He’s right there, lord,’ said Kalet, ‘most of the merchants I know are fat, rich and lazy.’

  ‘Do you actually know any merchants?’ I asked him. ‘Aside from the ones you have robbed.’

  He did not dignify my remark with an answer but Malik was convinced Vima was no trader.

  ‘He has the appearance and bearing of a warrior. Surely you must see this, Pacorus?’

  ‘Perhaps he is,’ I said, ‘but he saved my life, has thus far has proved himself a valuable ally and will hopefully play a part in a crucial mission. If he chooses to disguise himself, what of it?’

  ‘I don’t trust him,’ stated Kalet starkly. ‘He might be leading us into a trap.’

  But he was not and on the sixth day, the sun in our eyes, I lay on my belly beside Vima and Talib staring down at what appeared to be a thousand campfires around a huge glistening lake. My heart sank when I saw the number of horses and men present, though I was glad that we had arrived unseen.