Centurion

The two parties of horsemen drew closer to each other, the silence and stillness of the midday broken only by the sound of horses' hooves scraping and thumping the uneven ground. Cato saw the elaborate decoration on the Parthians' bow cases and the fine quality of their robes. Their mounts were smaller than the Roman horses, and seemed to be well cared for, muscular and moving with a fluid grace. There was little to distinguish the Parthians in their accoutrements, except that the man carrying the standard had a large wicker basket hanging from his saddle. By mutual consent the two sides drew up two spears'length apart and for a moment exchanged searching stares. Then the tallest of the Parthians suddenly pulled aside his face cloth and began to speak.

The emissary listened intently and then bowed his head before turning to the Romans.

'The prince wishes you eternal good health and prosperity. For you, your emperor and all your people. He also wishes to commend you on the fine lands you have acquired on behalf of Rome. He says that he was most impressed by your lines of watchtowers and forward outposts that guard the approaches to Antioch. They presented something of a challenge for us to approach and pass through unseen.'

Longinus' lips pressed together in a thin line as he heard the last words and his free hand momentarily clenched. Then he raised it suddenly.

'That's enough of the courtesies. I take it we're not here to discuss the details of your sightseeing. Get to the point. What does the prince want?'

There was a brief exchange between the emissary and the prince before the former spoke again. 'Parthia demands that Rome desists from any attempt to spread its influence any further towards the Euphrates.'

'Rome has every right to protect her frontiers,' Longinus responded firmly.

'Ah, but your frontiers seem to have a habit of creeping forward, like thieves towards the homes of fresh victims.'

'What do you mean? We still honour the existing treaty.'

'Between Parthia and Rome, yes,' the emissary conceded. 'But what of your arrangement with Palmyra? You use her lands as your own and your soldiers march up to the very borders of Parthia.'

'King Vabathus has signed a treaty with Rome,' Longinus said evenly. The prince snorted as the words were translated for him. Then he launched into a long outburst whose ill-humour was apparent to the Romans even before the emissary attempted to speak for his master. Macro glanced at Cato and raised his eyes wearily. Cato did not respond. His friend was a professional soldier to the core, but he hated any aspect of politics or diplomacy and it was clear to Cato that Macro's presence at this tense encounter was something of a liability for the Roman side. Cato widened his eyes and did his best to shoot a warning look at his friend. Macro briefly raised a questioning eyebrow and then shrugged slightly as the emissary spoke for his master.

'Prince Metaxas says that the true intent of your treaty is a poorly kept secret. Everyone knows that it is merely a move towards annexation of Palmyra.'

'King Vabathus entered into the treaty freely enough.'

'And if the king, or a successor, was to decide that the treaty should be ended? What then?'

Longinus had already taken the bait once, and paused a moment to consider a suitable response. 'But there is no question of that happening. Palmyra and Rome are partners.'

The Parthian prince laughed harshly and stabbed his finger towards the Roman governor as he made his response.

'Partners?' the emissary translated. 'The only partners you have are Vabathus and his cronies. The great houses of Palmyran aristocracy denounce the treaty openly. There are even those in the royal palace who think the king little more than a traitor.Your treaty is a sham, and soon the king will be forced to renounce it. And if he fails to do that you can be sure that his successor will cut the chains that bind Palmyra to Rome. If Rome attempts to intervene in Palmyran affairs by force, then Parthia will do all it can to protect its neighbour from Roman aggression.'

Now it was Longinus' turn to laugh. 'Parthia the protector? That's a new one! Your desire to seize Palmyra is transparent. What makes you think the people of Palmyra will welcome Parthian intervention?'

'We have our reasons to believe they will. And we have made it known that we will protect their independence. From Rome and any other interlopers.'

'And you think they believe that? Why should they have any more faith in your good intentions than ours?'

'Because we have not sent soldiers into their lands to build fortifications that will slowly but surely become the bars of their cage.Already you have attempted to build a fort on the very banks of the Euphrates, and before long the camps of Roman armies will sprout along the banks of the river, like knives aimed at the throat of Parthia.'

Macro leaned towards Cato and whispered, 'These Parthian buggers are partial to a poetic turn of phrase, aren't they?'

'Shh!' Cato hissed as loudly as he dared. There was a pause as the Parthian emissary, Longinus and the legate of the Tenth turned to look at Macro and Cato before the emissary resumed his master's diatribe.

'Parthia will not tolerate such naked aggression.The fort was a clear sign of Roman intentions and you are warned not to attempt any such incursions again.'

'Was?' Longinus interrupted. 'What has happened to the fort?'

'It has been razed.'

'And the auxiliary cohort sent to construct it. What of them?'

'They were destroyed.'

'Destroyed?' Longinus was startled. 'What of the prisoners? Where are they?'

'Regrettably, there are no prisoners.'

'Bastards,' Legate Amatius grumbled. 'Murdering swine.'

The emissary shrugged. 'They did not surrender. Our men had no choice but to wipe them out.'

Longinus was silent for a moment before he responded. 'Five hundred men, and one of the best field officers in the army. Centurion Castor…' He glared at the Parthian prince. 'Tell your master that this is an act of war.'

Metaxas smiled as his emissary translated his reply. 'Which? The destruction of your cohort, or the threat it posed to our sovereignty?'

'Don't try to confuse the issue!' Longinus snapped. 'He knows what I mean. When word of this reaches the ears of the Emperor I doubt there is any power in this world that will prevent him from wreaking a terrible revenge on Parthia. And it will be a fate you have drawn down on yourselves.'

'We have no wish to provoke war, my general.'

'Bollocks!' Amatius snorted. 'You wipe out one of our cohorts and you say you don't wish to provoke a war!' The legate's hand slipped towards the handle of his sword and the gesture was noticed at once by the Parthians.With a sudden rasp one of the prince's escorts drew his sword and the curved blade glinted in the sunlight. Prince Metaxas snapped an order at the man and with a brief show of reluctance he returned the blade to its scabbard.

'Sir.' Cato spoke softly to the legate. 'I'd take your hand off your sword.'

Amatius' nostrils flared as his eyes fixed on Cato.Then he blinked and nodded and released his grip. 'All right then. But there will be a reckoning for Centurion Castor and the men of that cohort. One day.'