Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) (51 page)

‘It was that old witch on Cyprus we have to thank. Who’d have thought a quiver filled with arrows painted silver would save our hides?’

I winked at her. ‘And your blonde hair and blue eyes, of course.’

‘We are not out of danger yet, Pacorus.’

It was now mid-afternoon and though the immediate area around the house was deceptively quiet I knew she was right. We had to get to the harbour fast to get on board Athineos’ boat. We gobbled down fruit and barley cakes, washed down with water, as Alcaeus extracted the arrow from Acco’s shoulder and irrigated the wound with watered-down wine. The Gaul did not flinch as he did so but merely stared at Gallia’s martial appearance.

‘You fight like a Senones, princess.’ He glanced at me. ‘So this one is your husband?’

‘He is,’ said Gallia. ‘He is a king in Parthia and the victor of many battles.’

Acco seemed unimpressed. ‘Where’s Parthia?’

‘East of Ephesus,’ I answered, ‘which is where we are heading.’

‘You are coming with us, Acco,’ said Gallia.

Acco winced as Alcaeus slapped honey and fat on the wound to staunch the flow of blood and assist the healing process. He then began wrapping a bandage around Acco’s shoulder and under his left arm.

‘Not too tight,’ Acco told him, ‘I don’t want my sword arm restricted.’

‘I don’t suppose I could convince you not to use your left arm until the wound heals? You have lost a lot of blood.’

‘You suppose right,’ said Acco.

Alcaeus sighed. ‘Of course not.’

Domitus and Burebista had relieved the three at the gates to allow them to change out of their gladiator gear, Surena having armed himself with his bow and the
gladius
and
scutum
I had taken in the arena. He now began chewing his way through a bunch of grapes.

‘A pity we shall miss the last two days of the games,’ he said to no one in particular.

Acco looked at him as Alcaeus finished tying off the bandage.

‘Is he Parthian as well?’

Arminius laughed. ‘Who? Surena? No he’s a member of the Ma’adan.’

Acco looked at his bandage. ‘What’s that?’

‘A tribe that inhabits a land of water in the arse end of nowhere,’ said Drenis.

‘The
editor
took a fancy to him,’ said Arminius, tilting his head at Surena.

‘I killed that fat degenerate,’ hissed Surena.

‘That’s your career as a gladiator over,’ said Drenis.

‘We talk too much,’ interrupted Gallia, ‘we should leave this place.’

‘She’s right,’ I agreed, ‘we must go to the harbour.’

‘What if the Romans have blocked the way already?’ asked Acco, who was swinging a
gladius
in his left hand.

‘Then we seek sanctuary at the temple,’ replied Gallia.

‘I’m not living like a woman, princess,’ said Acco, ‘I’d rather go down fighting.’

‘You may get your wish,’ I told him.

After we had finished filling our bellies we left the house, taking Lysander with us despite his protests. I wanted a guide to lead us through the city’s back streets so we could avoid Roman patrols, but no sooner had we left the gates than we encountered a party of legionaries, around forty paces away. We were eleven, including Lysander, but they numbered at least half a century – forty men. Lysander tried to scuttle back into the house but I grabbed his tunic and shoved him into the centre of our little group as I nocked an arrow in my bowstring, as did Gallia and Surena.

‘You will show us an alternative route to the harbour,’ I told him as I drew back my bowstring and released it.

The arrow hissed through the air and struck a legionary in the neck. He groaned and fell to the ground. Two more hisses announced Surena and Gallia’s flying arrows and another two Romans collapsed to the ground. Their centurion barked an order and the Romans locked their shields together to show us a row of red leather while those behind hoisted their shields above their heads. The mini
testudo
began to shuffle towards us.

‘Shoot at their legs,’ I said, ‘try to hit as many as you can before they charge.’

Then there was the blast of a whistle and raised voices behind the
testudo
, which halted. There were more shouts and curses and suddenly the formation began to inch backwards.

‘Don’t shoot,’ I said to Surena and Gallia.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Acco.

‘They are retreating,’ Domitus told him.

My general was right, for after the
testudo
had fallen back twenty or so paces the formation suddenly broke up, the legionaries beating a hasty retreat back down the road, towards the northern part of the city. They left the three dead legionaries where they had fallen.

‘Something must be serious for them to leave their dead behind,’ remarked Domitus.

‘The gods smile on us,’ I said, looking up and down the empty street. ‘Let us get to the harbour as quickly as possible.’

We began to walk towards the south when I heard shouting behind me. We turned to see a Greek man with a thick beard and bare feet running towards us, waving his arms. Surena raised his bow as he skirted the dead Romans.

‘No, Surena,’ I ordered, ‘he is unarmed.’

‘It is my brother-in-law,’ said Lysander, stepping forward to greet his relative, who was in an agitated state.

‘Hail, brother,’ he panted, ignoring the rest of us as he smiled at Lysander. ‘Glorious news. Cleon and his men have seized the
prytaneion
and now protect the sacred flame. Our liberation from the Romans is at hand.’

I looked at Domitus who shook his head. So Cleon had taken advantage of the disturbance in the city to make his grab for power. By the reaction of Lysander’s brother-in-law there were some in the city that wanted to throw off the Roman yoke, but I doubted that they would succeed against the garrison.

‘He obviously desires a glorious death,’ said Domitus, ‘but it isn’t our concern. Let’s move.’

‘They are our concern.’

I heard Drenis’ voice and turned to see a detachment of Roman legionaries approaching from the southern end of the street, marching quickly. At their head were a centurion and a standard bearer carrying a shaft that had a number of silver discs attached and topped with a silver human hand called a
Manus
. The standard was a
signum
and was carried by a signifier that indicated that a full century – eighty men – was bearing down on us.

‘We can take them,’ boasted Acco but he was wrong. Our only alternative was to run as fast as we could in the opposite direction.

‘Move!’ I shouted and we ran for our lives.

The Romans had spotted us and the centurion spat orders at his men to increase their pace as they tried to catch up with us. We were unencumbered by armour and helmets and so our pace was faster, though Lysander and his brother-in-law had difficulty keeping up, the latter suddenly stopping as pain shot through his chest. Lysander also halted and went to help his relative. I slowed and turned to see the Romans about to engulf them when, out of a side alley, a group of Greek men suddenly appeared. A dozen, a score and more, launched themselves at the century with sticks, stones and a few swords that had been taken from dead Roman soldiers. We stopped and stared, open mouthed, as the Greeks fought like tigers. For a few moments the Romans were thrown back and disorganised, but after the initial surprise they closed ranks and there was a whistle blast, followed by a volley of javelins thrown by the rear ranks. What followed was like a drill on Dura’s training fields. The centurion issued an order and the front rank raced forward to begin stabbing the Greeks with their swords. It took less than half a minute to reduce the Greeks to a pile of moaning, squirming offal, a few managing to flee back into the alley from where they had appeared. Lysander and his wife’s husband were not so lucky, both meeting their ends on the points of Roman short swords.

We ran on, towards the
prytaneion
and into a sudden press of people trying to gain access to the hall. There were hundreds of citizens around the courtyard that fronted the temple-like building where the sacred flame burned.

‘Those Romans will be here any minute,’ warned Domitus.

‘I wonder where the ones who retreated from us are?’ queried Gallia as we pushed through the crowd and came across Greek men armed with spears and Roman swords and carrying Roman shields who were guarding the perimeter around the courtyard. Suddenly people began shouting and cheering as they spotted Gallia’s blonde locks.

‘The daughter of Artemis, the daughter of Artemis,’ they shrieked and screamed as they closed in on us.

‘You have to let us through,’ I shouted to one of the guards, ‘otherwise the daughter of Artemis will be crushed.’

He scowled at me, recognised Gallia and then beckoned to several of his fellow guards to assist him as he began pushing aside members of the crowd.

‘Clear a path for the daughter of Artemis,’ he bellowed as his companions joined him to create a makeshift corridor for us. He and they smiled when they saw Gallia as those nearest to her whipped themselves into a religious frenzy and began wailing and singing.

‘This is bloody madness,’ said Domitus disapprovingly.

‘The Romans must have run away,’ announced Surena.

‘They’re here, boy,’ Domitus told him, ‘don’t you worry. They are waiting until everyone is nicely penned into this place and then they will attack.’

But all I could see around the colonnaded courtyard was a throng of men and women all desirous of entering the
prytaneion
. The guard I had shouted to, a man no older than twenty I estimated, led us to a slightly older individual who like him sported a thick beard and carried a Roman shield and a
gladius
. The helmet on his head perhaps marked him out as a leader of some sort.

He bowed his head to Gallia. ‘Welcome, lady. Please follow me.

He said nothing to the rest of us but his eyes lingered on Surena for a couple of seconds. Perhaps he recognised him from the arena. In the courtyard were men sitting in groups, most of them in their early twenties with stacks of spears near them and piles of shields, all Roman, next to the spears. Some looked up as we passed them, several standing when they saw Gallia and pointing at her.

Our silent guide led us into the ceremonial hall where the
cena
libera
had taken place a few days before. Then the chamber had been filled with noise, drunken behaviour and condemned men. Now it was silent and reverential with Greeks guarding the sacred flame, not Romans. The guard ordered everyone apart from Gallia and myself to wait while he indicated that we two should go into a side room. Domitus looked alarmed but I held a hand up to him. We entered the room and saw Cleon sitting at a table, his torso covered by a bronze scale armour cuirass. I was surprised to also see Hippo standing by the door, who walked over and reached out to take Gallia’s hands.

‘Welcome, Queen Gallia.’

Cleon looked up, his face hard and determined. ‘Greetings, King Pacorus. Zeus has guided you here to bear witness to the liberation of Ephesus. It is an auspicious omen that you have joined us.’

I was slightly alarmed that we had apparently been recruited to his cause.

‘Auspicious, in what way?’

He stood and walked over to Hippo, slipping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek. I suspected she was no longer the virgin high priestess of Artemis.

‘Hippo informed me of your visit to the home of the traitor Kallias and the discovery of your true identity. Since then I have researched you and your history. You were the leader of the horsemen in the service of a slave general who fought the Romans, you returned to Parthia, became a king, destroyed a Roman army before the gates of your city and forced Pompey, called ‘great’ by some, to retreat from your kingdom.’

I had to admit he had done his research.

He looked at Gallia. ‘And you, Queen Gallia, commander of the Amazons who displayed such courage in the Great Theatre and fired the imaginations of the citizens of this great city and the worshippers of the goddess. What explanation can there be other than you have been sent by the gods to light the flame of liberation?’

‘You aim high, Cleon,’ I said.

‘The goddess smiles on him,’ said Hippo, ‘as she does on you, Queen Gallia.’

‘What about the Roman garrison, Cleon?’ I asked. ‘For it certainly does not smile on you.’

‘The disturbance in the theatre,’ he bowed his head to Gallia, ‘has resulted in many Roman casualties. The governor had too few soldiers to secure the gates of the city, which allowed me to make my move and seize the
prytaneion
and the sacred flame. Soon word of what we have done here will spread throughout Greece and Asia and will lead to the people overthrowing Roman rule.’

It would lead to a large army being sent from Italy, more like, but that was not my concern.

‘Soon I will lead my
lochos
against the remnants of the garrison to secure the rest of the city.’