Parthian Vengeance (42 page)

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Authors: Peter Darman

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

BOOK: Parthian Vengeance
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Domitus, who squatted beside me, shook me awake.

‘Get up, Pacorus. Aaron has gone.’

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

‘Gone,’ I wiped my eyes and slowly rose to my feet. My back ached and my mouth felt parched. ‘Gone where?’

Domitus shrugged. ‘No idea. The only thing I know is that he disappeared when he should have been on guard duty. That’s a capital offence.’

I stretched my back and walked across to where the horses were tethered to a tree. I untied Remus and led him to the small stream we had camped by. It brought clear, fresh water from beneath the parched hills to the east before it was tainted when it entered the Salt Sea. Domitus walked with me.

‘What are you going to do?’ he pestered me.

The others were also stirring by now, wrapped in their cloaks to keep away the cool of the early morning.

‘If Aaron has absconded there is little I can do. This is after all his country and if he has decided to stay here then that is that.’

‘He should be taken back to Dura in chains and then executed.’

I let Remus drink from the stream as the others brought their horses to the water. I rubbed my stubble-covered chin.

‘Aaron is not in the army, Domitus, so you cannot have him executed.’

‘He put us all in danger by disappearing like he did. That alone is enough to place a noose around his neck.’

I squatted down and scooped up some water with my hands to wash the dirt from my face.

‘Where is Aaron?’ asked Malik.

‘Where indeed?’ said Domitus.

I stood up and stretched my back again. I must have slept on a stone because the ache would not go.

‘Aaron has gone, Malik,’ I replied.

‘Deserted, more like,’ added a furious Domitus.

Malik looked around at the barren hills that surrounded us. ‘Deserted to where?’

‘Jericho.’

Alexander had sauntered over to where we stood.

‘Jericho?’ I was confused. ‘What’s that?’

He bent down and scooped up a handful of water to drink.

‘A town about ten miles northeast of here. Aaron grew up there, though his father is long dead and there is no family business now.’

‘Why would he go back, then?’ I asked.

Alexander smiled. ‘His beloved lives there. To be so close to her was too much for him to bear, I think. I would wager all the gold I have that at this very moment he is at her mother’s house in the town. The young idiot!’

‘Idiot and deserter,’ said Domitus.

‘Why an idiot?’ I asked.

Alexander looked to the north. ‘Aaron, son of Jacob, is well known in Jericho, well known for being a senior figure in the faction that supported my father. There is a large reward on his head, just as there is on mine. By visiting Jericho Aaron has signed his own death warrant.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘we had better go and get him back then.’

Domitus, his mood already sombre when he had awoken to discover Aaron had absconded, got even more gruff and snappier when I announced that we would go to Jericho to rescue Aaron. After we had groomed and fed the horses and checked their shoes, and then eaten a meagre breakfast of hard biscuit and salted mutton, he cornered me. I was checking my saddlecloth for insects that might have embedded themselves in the material and which might be an irritant to Remus when he was saddled.

‘I say we should leave him to it. These Jews are more trouble than they’re worth.’

‘You are being uncharitable, Domitus. Aaron was as good as his word was he not, regarding the gold, I mean?’

‘Be that as it may, there is no point in getting involved in their little civil war. Look around. You have no cataphracts or horse archers to back you up if things take a turn for the worse, and my legions are back at Dura.’

I smiled at him. ‘I thought they were my legions.’

He was not amused. ‘Don’t get smart. How are you going to fight a Roman garrison with only Malik and me? Byrd is not a soldier and I don’t trust Surena.’

‘He is fearless, Domitus.’

He nodded grimly. ‘That is exactly what I mean. He’s fearless and also reckless and headstrong and quite capable of getting us all killed.’

I laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Then it is a good job that I have worked out a plan that will get us Aaron back without having to fight, hopefully.’

‘Do we want him back?’ He mumbled before stalking away.

I asked Byrd and Malik to ride into Jericho to scout the town to find Aaron and bring him back before he was arrested. Alexander drew a rough plan of Jericho in the dirt using his dagger, indicating where the house of Aaron’s sweetheart was located. He said he could not accompany them since his face was too well known in the area. Even though the region contained a large number of his supporters, the adherents of Hyrcanus and their Roman allies also lived in the town. We would wait until they returned, hopefully with Aaron. Surena also wanted to accompany them but I refused his request. Byrd had a talent amounting to genius for moving unseen through the countryside, cities and crowds; Surena had a habit of drawing attention to himself like a roaring lion in the middle of an empty square. Instead I sent him on foot into the hills with Alexander to bring us back some fresh meat to eat, leaving Domitus and me in camp.

For the first hour Domitus said nothing but amused himself with sharpening his sword on the stone he had brought with him. At first I occupied myself with stringing my bow to test the tautness of the bowstring and then inspected every one of my arrows. Then I oiled the blades of my
spatha
and dagger and all the while he watched me like a falcon observes its prey.

‘You have something to say, Domitus?’

He stopped running the stone along the keen edge of his sword.

‘You are making a mistake. We should be on the road back to Dura by now. Aaron clearly wants to stay in this land so let him. It’s no great loss.’

‘I suspect my dear Domitus that Aaron prefers Dura to Roman-occupied Judea and has let his heart get the better of him in this instance. I would have done the same if Gallia had been but a stone’s throw away.’

He shook his head and returned to sharpening his sword, mumbling to himself as he did so. Mid-morning Surena and Alexander returned to camp with a slain gazelle Surena had shot. Alexander told me that the beast had been brought down with a single arrow at a great distance, which a gloating Surena had great delight in telling Domitus. This served only to further sour my general’s mood, though he was able to take out his frustrations on the dead gazelle. The sun was high in the sky now and the day was dry and hot. While Surena and Alexander stripped off and cooled themselves in the stream Domitus gutted the dead animal away from the horses so the smell of blood and guts would not alarm them. He made a small hole in the ground and then slit the animal’s throat to bleed it, the blood gushing into the depression.

He had obviously decided that discussing Aaron further was futile and only served to raise his wrath, so he brought up another topic.

‘After Silaces and his men are equipped,’ he rolled the carcass onto its belly, ‘you will march against Mithridates and Narses once more?’

‘Yes, their assassination attempt on me must be avenged lest I appear weak.’

He nodded approvingly and rolled the beast onto its back. ‘Makes sense. You will always be looking over your shoulder while those two bastards are still in the world.’

He cut the animal’s skin with his dagger from the tailbone to just under the chin and then from foreleg to foreleg and then hind leg to hind leg, being careful not to cut the thin membrane enclosing the entrails.

‘And once they are in the same position as this animal, then what?’

He began skinning the carcass, lifting the skin and using his dagger to peel it away. He then slit its belly and turned it on its side to roll out the entrails.

‘I don’t understand,’ I said.

He turned the animal on its skinned side and began again on the opposite side.

‘The empire will need a new king of kings, that’s what.’

I shrugged. ‘That will not be my concern.’

‘It will be if you don’t have someone you think is suitable to fill the position, bearing in mind that your father is not interested. Killing kings is easy, finding their replacements less so.’

Once Domitus had finished skinning the carcass he quartered the animal and then he and I searched for wood to make a fire. By the time Byrd and Malik returned to us later that afternoon the fire was raging and the smell of roasting meat filled the air. Alas their news was not good.

They informed us that Aaron had indeed visited the house where his beloved lived in the northeast part of the town, but had been spotted and reported to the Roman authorities and duly arrested. He was currently being held in the town’s jail before his execution.

‘His execution!’ I was horrified.

‘The Romans are eager to rid Judea of any opponents to their rule, that is why most of us who are opposed to them live in the hills and other places away from the towns,’ said Alexander. ‘Aaron would have been on a list of political enemies to be apprehended. When is his execution?’

‘Tomorrow,’ replied Byrd, tucking into his portion of meat. ‘He condemned by Romani council.’

Alexander explained that after its occupation by the Romans Judea was divided into five administrative districts called
synhedroi
, the headquarters of one of them being Jericho. All those arrested for political crimes were brought before each district’s Roman council rather than the local Jewish religious court.

‘I speak to Romani soldier outside courthouse,’ said Byrd, ‘he say Aaron denounced Rome as the mother of harlots, an abomination drunk with the blood of saints.’

‘Well, that’s him done for,’ said Domitus with relish. ‘They’ll lop off his head tomorrow in the jailhouse and then dump his body on the rubbish heap.’

‘The punishment for political crimes is crucifixion,’ said Alexander, staring unblinkingly at Domitus.

‘So?’

‘So,’ replied Alexander, ‘the condemned are put to death outside the town’s walls.

‘Alas for Aaron,’ said Malik.

‘But perhaps not,’ I mused, looking at Alexander. ‘Crucifixions are held outside the town, you say?’

He nodded. ‘That is correct. On a small hill a short distance to the east of the town. The Romans like to put on display the corpses of all those who dare to defy their rule as a warning to others.’

‘What time are crucifixions?’ I asked.

‘Two hours after dawn.’

Domitus wore a worried expression. ‘Please tell me you are not thinking what I suspect is going through your mind,’ he said to me.

‘No man deserves to be nailed to a cross for the crime of seeing his sweetheart. Tomorrow, my friends, I intend to rescue Aaron and see him brought safely back to Dura. I hope I can count on your assistance.’

Domitus spent the next hour trying to dissuade me, giving me a score of excellent reasons why the whole idea was folly and that we should leave Aaron to his fate and return home. But I would not change my mind and Surena and Malik pledged their support, while Byrd merely shrugged and said he cared little either way. Thus was Domitus outmanoeuvred and outnumbered and forced to accept defeat. Alexander also wanted to come along but I politely refused his offer. For one thing I did not know if he was a warrior – he certainly did not look like one – and for another he had no horse. I intended to strike hard and fast and leave even quicker.

We broke camp two hours before dawn and walked our horses for the first hour. Alexander sent Levi and Ananus sprinting ahead to ensure the road was free of any Roman patrols. Alexander had told us that the Roman garrison in Jericho numbered no more than a century, probably less – under eighty men. The main concentrations of Roman soldiers were at Jerusalem – a cohort – and Caesarea, the provincial capital, which held a further two cohorts. There were in addition numerous auxiliary units raised from locals spread throughout Judea. Alexander reported that there were a hundred such soldiers in Alexandreum, a town twenty miles to the north of Jericho. They were too far away to trouble us.

We rode along the shore of the Salt Sea and then headed northwest to Jericho, crossing the River Jordan via a ford. Alexander, Levi and Ananus stayed behind at the river to ensure our escape route stayed open. Byrd led Aaron’s horse as we rode the last five miles to Jericho. It was well past dawn when I saw the walls of Jericho for the first time, a stone circuit that encompassed the town and was broken only on the eastern side – the town’s sole gate. In the distance, beyond the town to the west, were mountains that looked down on the fertile plain in which Jericho was situated. Alexander told me that the fields around the town grew spices and flowers for perfumes but the main product was dates. Indeed, Jericho was nicknamed ‘town of palm trees’. As we approached the town gates I saw wooden poles planted in the ground on top of a small hill just off the road, some of them with crossbeams attached from which hung skeletons with grinning skulls. The Romans had planted their own unique crops in the area as well.

There was already traffic on the road, haggard-looking men leading donkeys and camels laden with wares going towards the open gates and passing others exiting the town. I halted our small contingent adjacent to the hill where the crucifixions were carried out. Giant crows were already perched on some of the crossbeams, eagerly awaiting the next batch of unfortunates who would be nailed to crosses. It could take up to five days to die on the cross and in that time the ravens would feast on the bodies of the condemned, pecking out their eyes first and then gorging themselves on their flesh.

‘Domitus and Malik,’ I ordered, ‘stay here. When Surena and I begin to kill the escort that will be your signal to free Aaron. Byrd, you stay with Aaron’s horse back up the road. When you see that he has been freed, make haste and get it to him. Then ride with him back to the ford as quickly as you can. Everyone understand?’

They all nodded and I nudged Remus forward with Surena behind me as Byrd retreated two hundred paces or so back up the road. As Remus walked towards the town there was a commotion at the gates and then a party of Roman legionaries appeared, twelve men in two files flanking a stooping figure with a heavy crossbeam across his shoulders – Aaron. His pace was slow and he shuffled his feet as he trudged towards his place of execution.

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