Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) (22 page)

Athineos smiled awkwardly at me and again began fiddling with his rings.

‘I have to confess that I do bring some news that might interest you,’ he said. ‘Not that I wouldn’t have come to see you anyway.’

‘Of course not,’ remarked Dobbai dryly.

‘Spit it out, then,’ I told him.

He looked at Gallia and me and then at Domitus and Godarz before taking a great gulp of wine.

‘Burebista is alive.’

Chapter 5

I stared at him, stunned and disbelieving.

‘Impossible,’ hissed Gallia. ‘I was there the night he fell. Just outside Rhegium.’

‘She’s right,’ I said. ‘Burebista fell the night we helped Spartacus escape from Crassus’ trap outside Rhegium.’

Athineos held up his hands. ‘I do not know of the episode you talk about. But I do know this. There are to be gladiatorial games at Ephesus this summer. I was one of the captains commissioned to collect wild animals to transport to the city. Anyway, I got talking to the agent who commissioned me and he told me that these games are going to be spectacular, with all the top gladiatorial schools sending their fighters to take part. He operates out of Capua, you see.’

Gallia’s expression hardened. ‘Capua?’

Athineos smiled at her but received an icy stare in return.

‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘he told me that the school of Lentulus Vatia was sending its top gladiators to take part, including Burebista the Dacian.’

Gallia suddenly looked miserable and went to the stone balustrade, staring out across the waters of the Euphrates. I walked over to her and slipped my arm around her waist.

‘Are you ill?’

She gave me a smile but her eyes were full of sadness.

‘I never thought I would hear that name again.’

‘What, Burebista?’

‘No, Lentulus Vatia.
Lanista
of Capua’s
ludus
, the man I was sold to by my dear father.’

Godarz was angry. ‘This is all nonsense. Burebista died years ago in Italy. We were all there, captain, and saw him fall.’

‘I am just reporting what I have heard, that is all,’ pleaded Athineos. ‘I thought it unlikely too until he told me that after he was found on the battlefield this Burebista was nursed back to health on the orders of Crassus himself. He was then sold to the
lanista
at Capua to be trained as a gladiator. He is an
Eques
.’

‘A horseman?’ I said.

‘A gladiator trained to fight on horseback in the arena,’ said Domitus.

‘Except the agent told me that this horseman did not need any training to ride a horse,’ continued Athineos, ‘on account of him being part of the mounted slaves who fought beside Spartacus.’

‘Many horsemen fought beside Spartacus,’ said Godarz. ‘This is ridiculous, Pacorus. There are many men called Burebista. It is a common enough Dacian name.’

‘Well,’ added Athineos, ‘the agent told me that this Burebista fought with the Parthian, meaning you Pacorus, that is King Pacorus. And in celebration of this, or mockery depending on your point of view, in the arena he rides a white horse.’

My blood ran cold. I wanted to laugh and tell Athineos that he had been spun a fairy tale, hoodwinked, deceived. I could not because a voice inside my head told me that his words must be true. But after all these years?

‘Your story has one major flaw, captain,’ said Godarz. ‘We saw Burebista fall outside Rhegium.’

‘Except that you did not.’ I turned to see Dobbai resting her chin on her thumbs, staring at Godarz.

My governor curled his lip dismissively at her. ‘We were there; you were not.’

Then she looked at me. ‘The doubt etched on your face, son of Hatra, tells me that you believe the words of this pirate. So, did you see this Burebista fall?’

‘Burebista is dead,’ I insisted. ‘He was killed at Rhegium.’

Dobbai gave me a knowing look.

‘Then the matter is closed.’ She looked at Athineos. ‘The man you have been told about, pirate, is obviously a different individual from the one who fought with the son of Hatra in the slave general’s army.’

‘It is as Dobbai says,’ I said, avoiding the old witch’s eyes.

‘I just thought you should know, that is all,’ remarked Athineos quietly.

He stayed with us for two days, during which time he said nothing more about Burebista or the games at Ephesus. I escorted him on a tour of the city, the caravan park where we talked with the merchants of the Silk Road and the legionary camp. Dobbai and Samahe made themselves scarce during this time and I noticed that Godarz took himself away on a visit to some of Dura’s lords who lived in their great mud-brick strongholds to the north of the city. Athineos was impressed by what he saw, particularly when Gallia put the Amazons through their paces on the shooting range, though I think the old sea dog was ogling the shapely bodies of the women of my wife’s bodyguard rather than admiring their archery skills.

I had asked him to stay in the palace but he told me he had rented a room in one of the city’s brothels. He said the combination of good food, wine and attractive, available women made even a palace pale in comparison. On the morning of his departure he rode to the Citadel after I had finished on the training fields. He found me brushing down Remus outside the stable block where he was housed. Around me dozens of stable hands, farriers and veterinaries were mucking out stalls, fitting new shoes to horses and listening to cataphracts pointing out possible health problems with their mounts. The scene resembled one of the city’s squares on market day.

Two legionaries escorted Athineos to where I stood among a hundred horse archers who I had trained with earlier.

‘I see you still have your horse, then,’ Athineos grinned.

I waved the guards back.

‘Remus is one of the most famous horses in Parthia,’ I told him.

He walked up and stroked Remus’ neck. ‘Not only in Parthia but Syria too. You have made quite an impression, King Pacorus.

‘I came to say farewell. Time for me to get back to my ships.’

‘And wild animals.’

‘You do not approve?’ he said.

I stopped brushing Remus’ flank and stretched my back. ‘We all have to earn a living.’

‘Even kings?’

I nodded. ‘Even kings. The taxes levied on the trade caravans that pass through Dura help to pay for all of this.’

I held out an arm to the stables. ‘War is an expensive business.’

‘Good job you are good at it, then.’

He offered me his hand. ‘Thank you for your hospitality.’

I took his hand and laughed. ‘Shouldn’t you be saying that to the mistress of the brothel you have been staying at?’

He winked. ‘Already have, don’t you worry.’

His expression suddenly changed to one of deadly earnestness. ‘I will be at Tripolis for three months should you wish to partake of my hospitality. After that I will be sailing to Ephesus to deliver the animals for the games.’

He patted Remus on the neck, gave me a wry smile, turned and walked away, the guards escorting him back to the courtyard where his own horse waited. I finished brushing my horse and took him back to his stall. The stables were filled with the pleasing aroma of freshly laid straw and clean horses. The air vents in the ceiling were open to prevent it getting too hot inside the stalls, fifty of which were in this particular block. Epona was housed in another, larger block where the horses of the Amazons were quartered. I placed my saddle on a hook on the wall opposite Remus’ stall and draped his saddlecloth over a wooden rail underneath. Each stall was large enough to allow a horse to turn around, lie down and get up without bumping into the walls. And like the other horses Remus had his own hay manger, water trough and window vents that allowed air to circulate.

I leaned on the top of the door to his stall. In each side wall were metal grilles to allow him to see into the next stall. Horses are social animals and like to know they are in the company of other horses. In this way they are happier and not stressed.

‘Well, Remus, life is never simple. Just when you think you have solved one problem another takes its place.’

Around me stable hands and horse archers had been busy leading their horses to their stalls, sweeping the floor or refilling hay mangers and water troughs. The building had echoed to the sound of their activity but now it fell silent. I felt a pair of eyes on me and turned to see the figure of Dobbai. This was highly unusual as she rarely if ever visited the stables.

‘Remus needs rest after his morning exertion,’ I said, ‘but I can find you a fresh horse if you so desire.’

She gave me a disdainful look. ‘Do not try to be clever, son of Hatra, it does not suit you. The pirate has gone?’

‘He has.’

She walked over to stand beside me. ‘And what will you do now?’

‘Well, after I have finished here I have a meeting with Rsan to discuss tenancy agreements for farmers wishing to work the land that belongs to the royal estates.’

‘Don’t be a fool!’ she snapped. ‘I was not talking about your tallyman’s piles of useless parchments, as you well know.’

I said nothing.

‘You think he is still alive, don’t you? And like a seed planted in the earth the pirate’s words will grow louder in your mind until they are like a pair of kettledrums being constantly banged inside your skull.’

I walked away. ‘Have you ever thought that it is perhaps your words that torture me, Dobbai?’

But she was right. Over the following days the only thing I could think about was Burebista. I racked my brains trying to remember what had happened that night outside Rhegium. I remembered the snow, the burning towers and ramparts and the breakthrough of Spartacus’ army. But I knew that I had not seen Burebista fall.

‘You’re thinking of going, aren’t you?’

I was standing on the balcony of our bedroom, the light fading from the earth as another day drew to a close. Another day of normality in Dura but a period of torment for me. I sighed and went back into the bedroom. Gallia was dressed in an alluring cotton robe, very sheer and very thin. I could see her breasts and the shape of her thighs clearly. Normally such a vision would stir my loins but I felt nothing. I was detached, as though I was watching the scene rather than being a part of it. I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed.

‘Sorry, what did you say?’

‘Orodes and Domitus took the army east today. They intend to burn Ctesiphon, kill Mithridates and then march on Persepolis.’

I jumped up. ‘What?’

She laid back on the bed, her locks cascading over her neck and breasts.

‘Now that I have your intention perhaps you could answer my question.’

‘Which was?’

‘When are you leaving for Tripolis?’

I looked at her and thought I might deceive her with bluff but her eyes told me that she already knew the answer.

‘What if it is true?’ was all I could say.

‘What if it is? What can you do about it? Take ship with Athineos and rescue Burebista from the arena? It is not your concern, Pacorus. Your concern is here, with me and your daughter, in Dura.’

That night, as she lay asleep in my arms, a slight wind rippling the net curtain at the balcony’s entrance, I lay awake and thought of Burebista. I remembered the big, courageous Dacian who had risen to be the commander of a dragon – a thousand horsemen – in Italy. Brave Burebista, always smiling and never downcast. Now condemned to the living hell of the arena. Dobbai was always telling me that the gods sent men signs, omens and warnings. What else could Athineos’ visit be but a sign? And why had Samahe suddenly appeared at Dura? It was not a coincidence, of that I was now certain, though the exact purpose of her visit was yet to be revealed.

I sat up. ‘No.’

The next day I was treated by Alcaeus. The chief of the army’s medical corps rarely visited the Citadel, being content to restrict himself to the hospital in the legionary camp. There he could practise his medical skills and supervise his fellow physicians. Occasionally he would walk to the Citadel to see Claudia but we saw him almost every day after training sessions when we took refreshments in Domitus’ command tent. Tall with wiry hair and a black beard, like his fellow medics he wore a simple white tunic with a leather bag holding his medicines over his shoulder and a pair of sandals on his feet. He looked more like a philosopher than a healer but he was probably more intelligent than any of us and had a great thirst for knowledge. It was his analytical mind that led him to dislike Dobbai, whom he regarded as a charlatan and troublemaker. But he knew that Gallia was immensely fond of her and so he avoided the old woman.

Alcaeus gently lifted my left arm above my shoulder and observed my facial expression.

‘Well, you will be pleased to know that nothing is broken, otherwise you would be screaming by now. Best to avoid your morning routine for a couple of days.’

Domitus placed a towel in a bowl of water and then applied it on the back of his neck.

‘That must be the first time that Pacorus has fallen off his horse. I thought Parthians are born in the saddle.’