‘Perhaps walking around the city is inadvisable, majesty,’ he suggested, ‘bearing in mind your age.’

  I was going to scold him but realised he was right.

  ‘I will take your advice, Ashk.’

  There was a time when Claudia was a striking young woman, with a mischievous smile, a keen mind and her mother’s high cheekbones. She was not beautiful like Gallia but nor was she plain. Once her thick light brown hair tumbled to her shoulders and she wore leggings that hugged her womanly figure and light-coloured tunics and dresses that accentuated her feminine qualities. But that was before her terrible ordeal at the hands of Prince Alexander’s soldiers, her subsequent healing and induction into the Scythian Sisters, the secretive, powerful sect of sorceresses that was a force to be reckoned with in Parthia.

  When I walked on to the terrace to greet our oldest daughter the young, carefree woman was long gone, just a fading memory. In her place was a formidable woman clothed entirely in black, with black hair and cold eyes. She smiled at me, but it was in a purely obligatory fashion, planting a kiss on my scarred cheek and noticing my limp.

  ‘The hero of Irbil,’ she remarked mockingly, ‘alas, father, the reality before me is far removed from the myth currently circulating within the empire.’

  I hobbled to my chair beneath the awning and eased myself into it.

  ‘Have you come to Dura just to mock your father?’

  Gallia, who had remained seated during my entrance, sipped at her fruit juice. A servant offered me a cup of the same beverage and I took it gratefully. Others placed small silver plates containing pastries, sweet meats, grapes, pomegranates, figs, apples, raisins and almonds on the low tables between our cushioned seats.

  I picked up a pastry. ‘Is your journey one of pleasure or business?’

  Claudia sat and nibbled on a grape. ‘The high king wonders why you have been ignoring his letters, father, especially after he was so concerned to hear of your trial at Irbil.’

  ‘A trial he orchestrated,’ remarked Gallia coolly. ‘Did you also have a hand in encouraging Atrax and the Armenians to invade Parthia, which led to the death of Rasha?’

  Claudia’s eyes darted between us. She finished eating the grape and picked up another.

  ‘I grieved deeply when I learned she had died. And to answer your question, no, I had no hand in Phraates’ encouragement of Atrax.’

  ‘I thought Phraates was a puppet of the Scythian Sisters, a man who is high king but answers to your sisterhood.’

  Claudia rolled her eyes.

  ‘I am merely an adviser to the high king, father, not his jailer.’

  ‘More’s the pity,’ remarked Gallia. ‘Thanks to his plotting, Rasha is dead. That will not be forgotten.’

  ‘Phraates did not kill Rasha, mother; rather, it was Spartacus who brought about Atrax’s invasion of Media.’

  I laughed mockingly. ‘I saw the letter signed by Phraates himself, which encouraged Atrax to invade Media.’

  Claudia turned a third grape in her fingers.

  ‘If Spartacus had not invaded Armenia, King Artaxias would never have allowed Atrax to march his army through his kingdom, notwithstanding any letter that Phraates may have signed.’

  ‘ Did sign,’ I said.

  ‘His scheming nearly cost Akmon and Lusin their lives,’ added Gallia, ‘though we have taken measures to safeguard both their lives and their reign.’

  Claudia stopped toying with the grape.

  ‘Oh?’

  I had to admit I enjoyed revealing to her the details of the alliance between Media, Hatra and Dura, partly to remind Phraates that he was not the only one who could plot, but also to remind Claudia and her black-robed sisters they did not rule the Parthian Empire.

  ‘You should tell your master,’ I said with relish, ‘that our three kingdoms can easily put one hundred thousand men into the field.’

  ‘More than enough to send the Armenians fleeing back to their homeland should they be tempted to cross the Araxes again,’ added Gallia.

  Claudia sipped at her fruit juice. ‘My congratulations, I am glad to discover you still remain diligent concerning the defence of the empire.’

  ‘Which is more than can be said for Phraates,’ sniffed Gallia.

  I raised my cup to her, but Claudia’s temper was beginning to fray.

  ‘Phraates is concerned with safeguarding the empire. It is Spartacus who acts like a brigand and in so doing places Parthia in danger. However, with regard to Media, it seems it was never in danger and nor were its rulers.’

  She rose and walked to the balustrade, placing her hands on the stone to stare at the blue waters of the Euphrates below. I looked at Gallia who shook her head.

  Claudia turned to face us. ‘Curious is it not?’

  ‘What is?’ I asked, eating a second pastry.

  ‘That the King and Queen of Dura happened to find themselves in Irbil just before Atrax and his army appeared before its walls.’

  I shrugged, avoiding her eyes. ‘Mere coincidence.’

  ‘Mere coincidence,’ she repeated. ‘Let us accept for the moment it was so. That you just happened to find yourselves in Irbil, though who informed you the city was in peril remains a mystery.’

  ‘Lucky for Parthia we were there to aid Akmon and Lusin,’ said Gallia.

  Claudia walked back to her seat.

  ‘At Ctesiphon we heard stories of the King and Queen of Dura wearing magical armour, against which the weapons of the enemy were useless. And you can imagine my surprise when I heard other tales of King Pacorus and Queen Gallia having more vigour and stamina than people half their age, like demi-gods, if the anecdotes are to be believed.’

  ‘Back-street tittle-tattle,’ I retorted, ‘I am surprised you listen to such idle gossip.’

  ‘Can I see it?’ asked Claudia.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The armour you wore at Irbil.’

  I had had enough. ‘I am not here to be interrogated, Claudia. You forget who you are talking to.’

  ‘You should have more respect for your parents,’ said Gallia sternly.

  Claudia leaned back and stared up at the awning.

  ‘A while ago, Phraates told me of a troubling dream he had experienced, though nightmare would be a more accurate description. He disclosed to me that Shamash himself appeared to him and revealed he had offered the high crown to the King of Dura.’

  ‘Are you an adviser or fortune teller?’ Gallia taunted her.

  Claudia ignored her. ‘The dream alarmed Phraates greatly, and consequently he is taking measures to curtail the man he believes has for too long cast a shadow over Parthia, and indeed his own reign.’

  She fixed me with her cold eyes.

  ‘Me?’ I exclaimed.

  ‘You, father. It is not lost on Phraates, or indeed the empire, that you are an influential figure in Parthia.’

  ‘If he is,’ said Gallia, ‘it is because your father has dedicated his life to serving Parthia.’

  ‘And Phraates is grateful for that service,’ smiled Claudia, ‘but try to see things from his point of view. Dura, Hatra and Media have an alliance; Kewab, a protégé of Dura, is a powerful satrap in the east of the empire; Karys, the Jew, rules Mesene; and Salar, King of Sakastan, is married to your daughter, Isabella.’

  I had to admit the list was impressive, though I had never considered it a power bloc to challenge the authority of the high king.

  ‘Phraates should remember those who came to his aid when Tiridates deposed him,’ growled Gallia.

  Claudia smiled at her mother but did not reply to her.

  ‘Phraates believes a realignment of power within the empire is long overdue,’ she continued. ‘He has decided to replace Karys with Sanabares and to abolish Kewab’s rank of Satrap of the East.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked.

  ‘Another one of Phraates’ sycophantic courtiers?’ sneered Gallia.

  ‘He is the satrap of Susiana, mother, and is a loyal and conscientious ruler, if a little dour. But more to the point, he is not a Jew.’

  ‘What does than matter?’ I said. ‘I have never questioned a man’s faith or judged him on his race or parentage.’

  ‘But you follow our gods, father, and have always prayed to Shamash, the Sun King, the God of Truth, Justice and Right. You also honour Ishtar, Marduk, Erra and Girra.’

  Gallia laughed and gave me a knowing look. If only Claudia knew of our shared experience. What would she make of it; what would she make of us? I too chuckled. She would probably think we were mad.

  ‘It is no laughing matter,’ she rebuked us. ‘The Jews are loyal above all to Yahweh.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked.

  ‘How ignorant you are, father. Yahweh, also called Tzur Yisrael, Avinu Malkeinu and Melech ha-M’lachim, is the god the Jews worship, pledging their loyalty to him alone, irrespective of whether they are ruled by a pharaoh, king of kings or the Roman senate. No Parthian kingdom should be ruled by a Jew because they are unreliable.’

  I raised my eyes to the heavens. ‘I used to hear the same rubbish from Dobbai all those years ago.’

  ‘Sage advice,’ said Claudia.

  ‘Karys was trusted by Nergal and Praxima and that is good enough for me,’ stated Gallia.

  ‘Me too,’ I agreed.

  ‘Nergal and Praxima are dead,’ replied Claudia.

  Gallia erupted, jumping from her chair and pointing accusingly at her daughter.

  ‘Dead because of that pompous jackass who sits on Ctesiphon’s throne, who now seeks to eradicate their legacy by appointing his own lackey to rule Mesene. And he is going to dismiss Kewab, the man who saved the eastern half of the empire? That’s ingratitude of the highest order.’

  Taken aback, Claudia sought to soothe her mother’s anger.

  ‘Kewab’s appointment was always a temporary measure, mother. Surely, you did not think he would be made King of Aria?’

  ‘Then who will be?’ I asked.

  ‘Altan,’ she said softly.

  Her answer did nothing to calm my wife down.

  ‘Altan? The snake who helped Tiridates forge the alliance that toppled Phraates.’

  She looked at me. ‘You should have killed him when you had the chance.’

  I nodded. ‘I am apt to agree.’

  Claudia threw up her arms. ‘How easy it is to criticise from the safety of Dura, a thousand miles from the empire’s eastern border. You think Phraates wishes to appoint Altan, a man whose life you argued should be saved, father? No. But he recognises that Altan comes from an old and influential Arian family, one that holds great power in his kingdom. Of all the surviving lords of Aria, he is the logical choice to be crowned king to unite those lords in the face of the Kushan threat.’

  ‘The Kushan threat has diminished greatly,’ said Gallia.

  ‘But it still exists, mother, and will no doubt flare up again in the future, which is why Phraates needs to plant the seeds of loyalty on his eastern frontier.’

  ‘I did not know you had become a poet, Claudia,’ I said sarcastically.

  She raised an eyebrow at me. ‘The kingdoms of the east are in a weakened position following their defeat at the Battle of Ctesiphon.’

  ‘Are we supposed to feel sorry for traitors?’ hissed Gallia.

  ‘You and father defeated the army of Tiridates and in so doing butchered thousands of the eastern kings’ best soldiers.’

  ‘That is the nature of defeat,’ I remarked smugly. ‘The losing side suffers high losses.’

  She ignored me. ‘And let us not forget the kings of Anauon and Yueh-Chih also fell at Ctesiphon, which meant of the six kingdoms guarding the empire’s eastern frontier, only Antiochus of Drangiana and Salar of Sakastan are left alive to provide leadership against the Kushans.’

  ‘Your arithmetic is faulty,’ I told her, ‘for you forgot about Phanes who rules Carmania.’

  Now it was her turn to laugh.

  ‘Phanes is a drunken fool who spends his days raging against the world, though by all accounts he is quite mad. He is fortunate to have a capable son, Babak, to keep the kingdom in some sort of order. Rumour is civil war is about to break out in Carmania.’

  ‘Can’t you send one of your witches to cast a spell of harmony over the kingdom?’ I jested.

  She gave me a condescending stare.

  ‘How childish you can be at times, father. If Carmania descends into civil strife, Phraates will request King Salar to assist Prince Babak, as the two have been in correspondence for many months. I am hopeful they will form an alliance, which will secure the southern sector of the eastern frontier.’

  ‘So, the only obstacle to your little plan is Phanes,’ I said. I looked at Gallia. ‘Expect him to be poisoned in the coming months.’

  I could see Claudia’s expression harden but she did not let anger get the better of her. Instead, she picked up an apple and bit into it, chewing for a few seconds before speaking.

  ‘Phraates considers the recent campaign led by King Ali to have been a success, though not a triumph. He believes another expedition led by Ali would…’

  ‘No,’ I said firmly. ‘No more of Dura’s soldiers will be riding east, and I can state with some certainty that you will receive the same answer in Hatra and Vanadzor.’

  Claudia was shocked. ‘The Kushans are the enemies of Parthia, father, and you have always been the first to defend the empire.’

  ‘Not any more,’ I stressed, ‘I am retiring.’

  ‘ We are retiring,’ said Gallia, conveniently forgetting about her ambition to assassinate Dura’s surviving enemies.

  I smiled at Claudia. ‘There you have it. For forty years we have ridden hither and thither in the defence of Parthia, fighting battles too numerous to mention and in the process losing thousands of soldiers. Dura’s soldiers will no longer be falling on foreign soil; they will exist purely to defend the interests of this kingdom.’

  Claudia was shocked and for a split-second I detected fear in her cold, calculating eyes. She took another bite of her apple, placed the core on a dish and brought her hands together.

  ‘I was not born when you marched against Porus and defeated him on the other side of the Euphrates, before assisting the current high king’s grandfather in defeating Narses at the Battle of Surkh. As you say, since that time Dura’s army has been at the heart of efforts to defend the empire. Today, that army is a living legend and I have heard its mere presence on the battlefield is enough to cower an enemy.’

  ‘Not in my experience,’ I said bluntly.

  ‘Be that as it may, father,’ she snapped, ‘if you retire from the empire’s affairs then Parthia will be weakened, for it is known that Hatra follows Dura’s lead. At a stroke, the two most formidable armies in the empire will no longer be available to the high king.’

  I stood and walked to the balustrade, the ache in my leg having finally subsided.

  ‘The high king has relied on Dura for too long, Claudia, and in any case, he has a new lord high general to fight his wars.’

  ‘King Ali is not Pacorus of Dura,’ she replied.

  ‘That’s true,’ I agreed, ‘he’s younger, fitter and full of energy. I am old, Claudia, and have no desire to see the face of battle again.’

  I used my fingers to count the number of kingdoms Ali could call upon to form a very large army.

  ‘Babylon, Persis, Atropaiene, Susiana and Gordyene, all able to put at least twenty thousand men into the field, which totals one hundred thousand soldiers. More than enough to fight the Kushans and reinforce the armies of the eastern kings.’

  ‘And I daresay Media, once it has recovered, will be more than willing to contribute to the defence of the empire,’ added Gallia.

  Claudia sank into a sullen silence, eating an almond cake, her honeyed words having failed to win us over. Ashk appeared on the terrace, bowing to me, smiling at a now miserable-looking Claudia and then bowing to Gallia before whispering in my ear.

  ‘Show him in,’ I said.

  When he disappeared, I leaned in closer to Claudia.

  ‘Elymais is also part of our self-defence league, just in case Phraates, in a moment of vindictiveness, decides to murder Cia and her infant son.’

  My daughter frowned. ‘You are forgetting the demi-god Prince Pacorus of Hatra is her guardian, father. The irony being Cia is in more danger from him than Phraates.’

  ‘Impossible,’ I insisted.

  ‘It’s no use uttering a bad word about your father’s namesake,’ said Gallia, ‘he won’t hear of it.’

  ‘Well, you can be assured that Phraates has no ill intentions towards the infant or his mother,’ Claudia assured us.

  Ashk escorted Almas onto the terrace, the former commander of horse archers bowing to us as I rose from my seat. Despite his great wealth, he wore a simple white tunic and tan leggings, a pair of brown leather boots completing his appearance. In fact, he looked like an ordinary horse archer and I wondered if he deliberately dressed in such a manner to preserve the memory of his time in Dura’s army. A simple leather cover strapped around the wrist concealed the stump on the end of his left arm.

  ‘Claudia, this is Almas, the city’s deputy governor.’

  He bowed to her and she in turn fixed her stare on his stump.

  ‘Almas is a veteran of the army,’ I told her to save any awkward silences.

  She stood and walked over to the tall former army officer.

  ‘You lost your hand in battle, sir?’

  ‘Yes, highness, at the Araxes River during the Phraaspa campaign, nearly ten years ago now.’

  She reached inside her robe and pulled out a chain at her neck, hanging from which was a lock of hair.

  ‘We all lost precious things during that campaign.’

  Her eyes were suddenly pools of sadness and her face momentarily showed an expression of utter despair, before the cold Scythian Sister returned. I looked at Gallia and both of us remembered Valak, the dashing commander of King Silaces’ bodyguard, whom Claudia had fallen in love with. Only for their love to be cruelly ended by his murder.