Centurion

'No closer, Roman!' the man called out in Greek. 'What do you want?'

'I wish to speak to Prince Artaxes.'

'Why?'

Cato smiled at the man's directness. 'I will not speak to his minion. Only to the prince himself.'

The rebel officer scowled for a moment and then pointed at Cato. 'Stay there, Roman. Move from that spot and my archers will shoot you down like dogs!'

'Very well.'

The rebel officer ducked out of sight and Cato and his companions were left staring at the enemy soldiers lining the wall and talking in excited tones as they tried to guess what the Roman emissary wanted with their prince. The man with the standard was still waving it from side to side.

'That's no longer necessary.' Cato said to him. 'We have their attention.'

'Very well, sir.' The auxiliaries stood at ease and waited behind their commander in the bright sunshine. Time dragged past and Cato undid his neck scarf and dabbed at the sweat trickling down his face from under his helmet. He was tempted to undo the chin ties and remove it for a moment to escape the stifling burden as he stood under the midday sun. Then he fought the temptation off. It would only look like weakness in front of the enemy.A small weakness, and a justifiable one, he reflected, but he was damned if he was going to show them any sign of discomfort. Far better to let them see how hardy Roman soldiers could be. He casually retied the cloth round his neck and stood at ease, staring directly at the wall before him and not shifting his gaze as he tried to create the look of a wholly imperturbable man.

After what seemed an age in the still, baking heat, Cato sensed movement to one side and turned to see a small party of men turn the corner of the wall of the merchants' yards. At their head was a young, slender man in fine blue robes whose folds shimmered as he strode towards the Romans. He wore a sword belt from which hung a bejewelled scabbard that glinted as the sun caught the polished gold trimming and jewels set into the design. His beard was neatly trimmed and his hair glistened in the bright sunlight from the scented oil that had been combed into it. Behind him marched a bodyguard composed of six large spearmen, well muscled beneath their scale armour.

Cato turned towards them and raised his hand in salute. 'Do I have the honour of addressing Prince Artaxes?'

'You do,' the prince replied curtly. 'What do you want?'

Cato had memorised the statement he wished to make and spoke carefully to ensure that there was no misunderstanding.

'The king wishes to inform you that this is a struggle between you and him. Between your followers and his.The ordinary people of his kingdom are harmless bystanders and should be treated as such. Accordingly, His Majesty has sent me to ask you to offer a safe passage for the civilians presently sheltering inside the citadel.They were misguided in thinking that they had anything to fear at your hands and only want to return to their homes and businesses that they might continue with their lives, under whichever king your God chooses as ruler of Palmyra.'

Artaxes nodded slightly, and glanced round at his bodyguards. 'Stay there.' He cautiously paced up to Cato until they were well within dagger thrust of each other, and then lowered his voice so that only the two of them would hear his words.

'At the risk of being impious, it is my men, and my Parthian allies, who will decide the fate of Palmyra. We both know that, Roman, so let's leave the Gods out of this, eh?'

'As you wish, Prince.' Cato nodded. 'But General Longinus may reach Palmyra before your Parthian friends, in which case it would serve you and your followers well to let the civilians leave the citadel. One act of mercy might be rewarded with another.'

Artaxes shook his head mockingly. 'Roman, the Parthian army is less than fifty miles from the city. Where is your general? If what I hear is true, your Roman army marches like a snail. It cannot possibly reach Palmyra before the Parthians.Your time is short. Why should I show any mercy to my enemies?'

'Because they are not your enemies. If you are right, then in a matter of days they will be your subjects. Show them mercy and they will respect you.'

'Ah, but if I show them none, then the rest of my subjects will fear me.' Artaxes smiled. 'You tell me, Roman, which quality a king should value most, respect or fear?'

'I cannot answer for a king, but I would say respect.'

'Then, truly, you are a fool. We stand here right now because my father was not feared. Nor was he respected at the end. When he lost respect he could not rely on fear to save him. I will not make the same mistake. I will make men fear me utterly, and they will do my bidding with no thought of dissent.And the slaughter of the civilians who are presently cowering behind the walls of the citadel will be useful proof of my intentions. They are dead the moment you throw them out.'

'Who said we would throw them out?'

Artaxes feigned surprise.'Surely that is why you are here, pleading for their lives? I am not a fool, Roman.You cannot feed them; that is why my father wants them out. That means you are short of supplies, and that I am close to victory.' He stared at Cato for a moment. 'Is that not so, Roman?'

Cato did not reply at once. As he had feared, Artaxes had seen through the ploy in an instant. Cato could deny that they were short of supplies but he saw that Artaxes would not believe him. Now there was only one final bargaining counter to bring into play. He nodded his assent to Artaxes.

'You are right, Prince. However, I have a proposal for you. If you let the civilians leave, and do no harm to them, then in five days' time the two Roman cohorts will leave the citadel and surrender to you. You can dispose of us as you will.'

Artaxes stared at him briefly before replying. 'Have you not heard of the fate I have promised to any Romans that I take alive?'

'I have heard.'

'Then why make such a foolish offer?'

'As you said, we cannot hold out for much longer.We are dead men either way. At least this would give some purpose to our deaths.'

'I see. And if you are dead either way, why should I agree to this?'

'You know the quality of Rome's soldiers. If you have to destroy us in battle then how many of your men do you think we will take with us?' It was a bluff, since by that time the men would be too weak to put up much resistance, but Cato needed Artaxes to believe it, and he stood with an unflinching expression as he waited for the rebel leader to reply.

'You would give your lives for the people of Palmyra?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

Cato drew himself up as he replied. 'It takes the Empire several months to create and train a cohort. It has taken the Roman army a hundred years to build a reputation. We are not going to be remembered for throwing defenceless people to jackals like you.'

Artaxes' eyes widened for an instant and his hand clasped the handle of his sword. Then he forced a smile and relaxed his hand. 'Why should I believe that you would give yourselves up freely?'

'For the same reason we will believe that you have spared the civilians. Trust. If you give your word that they will not be harmed, then I give you my word that we will surrender to you, if we have not been relieved within five days. If either of us breaks his word the penalty is the same: infamy across the whole region.'

Artaxes considered this for a moment and Cato prayed that the prince's desire to visit destruction on the men of Rome outweighed his reason. Artaxes shut his eyes for a moment and stroked his neatly trimmed beard. Then he shook his head.

'No. I will not make a deal with you. If we are to destroy your cohorts then we will do it in battle and prove to the world that the soldiers of Palmyra are more than a match for your legionaries and auxiliaries. As for the civilians? You will have to force them out of the citadel, and see what happens to them.'

The cold malice in his tone was clear to Cato and he felt the icy grip of fear clutch at the base of his neck. It was clear that Artaxes had the makings of a tyrant. Inspiring fear came as naturally to him as striking at prey came to a snake.