Centurion

Cato was all for seeing the king immediately, but realised that some modicum of formality had to be maintained if he was to create a favourable impression. Once they had cast aside their soiled outer clothes and cleaned as much of the sewer filth off their bodies as quickly as they could, they followed Archelaus from the barracks. The room they had entered from the sewers proved to be one of ten that opened on to a courtyard behind the royal quarters of the citadel. In a more peaceful era the barracks had once been stables and accommodated some of the finest horses in the eastern world. Now people slept and sat in clusters where the horses once exercised. The sound of coughing and muted snatches of conversation punctuated the quiet of the night.

'Who are these people?' Cato asked.

'Some are from the palace. But most of them are loyalists who fled to the citadel when the revolt broke out. We took as many as we could before the king ordered the gates closed. There was no room for any more.'

'There were others?'

'Hundreds.Trapped outside when the rebels closed in on the citadel.'

'What happened to them?'

'What do you think?'Archelaus replied harshly.'Want me to draw you a picture? Let's just say Prince Artaxes won't be remembered for his merciful nature.'

They walked in silence for a moment, picking a path through the refugees, before Cato spoke again.

'What's the situation here? The message we got in Antioch was that you were holding your own.'

'That's true enough,' Archelaus responded. 'The rebels aren't going to get through the walls any time soon. We've more than enough men here to keep them at bay. And we have enough food for a few days yet. The only problem is water. There are two cisterns under the royal quarters, there.' He pointed towards the colonnaded building with a tower at each corner ahead of them. Next to it was the Temple of Bel, surrounded by a high curtain wall to prevent impious eyes from gazing upon the shrine of Palmyra's most powerful deity. Archelaus continued, 'Both were supposed to be kept filled to capacity, for emergencies. Turns out that the water in one has been fouled and the other was only half full. There wouldn't be much difficulty if we had to supply the current garrison.'

'How many men under arms do you have?' Cato asked.

'The royal guard numbered nearly five hundred when the revolt broke out. We lost over a hundred when we escaped from the palace, and fought our way across the city to the citadel. We've lost more in the days since then. Now?' He thought for a moment. 'There's nearly three hundred and fifty of us left. My syntagma suffered the heaviest casualties in the fight to reach the citadel.'

'Syntagma?'

'The royal guard is made up of two syntagmata. Each one has two hundred and forty men in it, or did before the revolt flared up. Each syntagma has four tetrarchies of sixty men. That's what I command.' He jabbed a thumb at his chest. 'I'm a tetrarch.'

'I see.' Cato nodded. 'Any other men on your strength, apart from the king's bodyguard?'

Archelaus shrugged dismissively.'A handful of nobles and their retinues. Personally, I think they're more danger to us than to the rebels. Then there's a half-century of auxiliaries who were guarding the Roman ambassador and his family and staff. So we have just over four hundred effectives, and at least five hundred civvies.'

Cato thought for a moment. If all went well this night the garrison was about to be swelled by over a thousand Roman soldiers and Prince Balthus' companions, not to mention all their horses. He turned to Archelaus.'How long will the water last?'

'Another twenty days or so.At the rate we're rationing it. Oh…' He paused mid-stride and looked at Cato. 'That's before your relief column joins us.'

'On current form that water is going to run out in less than ten days.'

'Great,' Archelaus muttered as he resumed his course towards the royal quarters. 'I can imagine how delighted the king is going to be when he works that one out.'

As they approached the royal quarters the guards at the entrance rose from the benches either side of the bronze doors and stood to, spears in hand. One of them stepped forward into Archelaus' path and saluted. He glanced over at Cato and Carpex before turning back to the tetrarch.

'Your business, sir?'

'These two just entered the citadel.They claim they have a message for the king.'

'The king's asleep, sir.'

'I can imagine.'Archelaus smiled thinly.'It's the middle of the night. But these men must see him urgently.'

The guard shifted uncomfortably and then made a decision. 'I'll send a man to his chamberlain, sir.'

'Then do it quickly!' Cato snapped in exasperation. 'There's no time to lose.'

The guard stared at Cato for a moment, wrinkled his nose, and then looked to Archelaus. The latter nodded.

'Do as he says.'

'Yes, sir.'

The guard gestured to one of his comrades and the man turned, heaved one of the doors open a little way and slipped through the gap. There was a tense silence as the men waited for a response from within. Cato turned away and glanced round the courtyard. Beyond the dense clusters of refugees the walls rose up tall and dark. Along the battlements he could see the dark figures of sentries keeping watch on the approaches to the citadel. A handful of torches flickered on each of the towers, but the sentries kept their distance from the light they cast, not wanting to make a target of themselves. Cato was reassured by the strength of the fortifications, but the fine walls would be no use at all once the water ran out. Then the defenders would have to choose between dying of thirst, surrendering to the rebels – to be massacred – or mounting a desperate attempt to escape from the city, unless the governor of Syria and his army could reach Palmyra before any such choice had to be made.

The sound of footsteps approaching caused Cato to turn and he saw the bronze door swing open to reveal, by the light of the oil lamps burning within, a guard and another man, tall and thin with a straggling grey beard. He stared at Cato for a moment, and then turned to Carpex. A flicker of recognition crossed his features before he addressed the slave in Greek.

'Well, Carpex, how does your master? Still busy hunting with his drunken friends?'

Carpex gave a deep bow. 'My master is outside the city, waiting to come to the aid of his father.'

'Really? Has he run out of drinking money so soon?'

Carpex made to reply, thought better of it, and remained with bowed head as the chamberlain turned his attention back to Cato. 'You must be the Roman. I think you had better explain what you are doing here.'

Cato took a deep breath. 'There's no time for detail. A Roman relief column is outside the city waiting for the signal to force its way in through your east gate. But first you must draw the attention of the rebels away from the gate. Then the signal can be given.'

The chamberlain stared at him for a moment. 'You had better come in. That dog of a slave can remain here.'

'Yes, master,' Carpex muttered and bowed even lower.

'What about me, sir?' asked Archelaus.

The chamberlain dismissed him with a casual wave of the hand. 'You may return to your barracks, Tetrarch. Roman, follow me.'

The chamberlain led Cato through the bronze doors into a short corridor.The floors were laid with red-streaked marble and the walls were covered with paintings of galloping horses, as if they were in a race. The corridor was short, and emerged through an arch into a large paved area. A two-storey portico ran round the edge and torches flickered from wall brackets at regular intervals. To one side a set of comfortable dining couches were arranged about a large table bearing the remains of a small feast. Several slaves were engaged in clearing away the platters and goblets while some more waited on the handful of guests still drinking. Their conversation and muted laughter drifted across the open area as the chamberlain escorted Cato towards some steps that climbed towards what looked to be a large hall. Inside the entrance was a large vestibule and the chamberlain pointed to one of the stone benches lining the waiting area. 'Sit there.'