Centurion

'That's great news.' Cato smiled back and tapped the letter with his finger. 'I doubt there's much to add to what you've just told me.'

'Just read it.'

'In a moment. First I have some good news for you too.'

'You have?' Macro frowned. 'Well, don't be so bloody coy, lad. Spit it out.'

'Very well.' Cato tucked his hand under Julia's arm and eased her up so that she stood at his side. 'It seems I am to marry Julia after all.'

'Marry?' Macro's eyebrows climbed up his forehead. 'Sempronius gave his permission?'

'He did, and very graciously too. Although I must admit I had feared that he was saving Julia for Balthus at one point. But as things have turned out…'

Macro's expression hardened for a moment. 'Yes, quite. Hardly a fair death.'

'Anyway.' Cato put his arm round Julia's shoulder and kissed her forehead. 'As soon as we reach Rome we'll make the arrangements.'

'Well, I'm buggered,' Macro said in astonishment, and then recovered his manners. 'I mean, my heartiest congratulations to you. To both of you, that is.'

Julia laughed. 'Why, thank you, Centurion Macro.'

'Yes, thank you,' Cato echoed. 'I have to confess, Sempronius' permission came as something of a shock to me as well.'

'Well, it shouldn't have,' Julia said firmly. 'I had made up my mind to marry you. And it'd be a brave father who tried to stop someone like me.'

Macro stared at her for a moment and then raised the back of his hand to his mouth and spoke in a stage whisper. 'Cato, my lad, you'd better watch yourself with this Amazon.'

Julia swatted his arm, and then before Macro could react she slipped it under his so that she had a man in her grasp on either side. 'Well then, that's that. Now let's go and join the other celebrations and find something to drink.' She paused a moment and smiled at Jesmiah.'You too. I imagine you could use some good food.'

Jesmiah nodded vigorously, causing the others to laugh. Julia turned to Macro and squeezed his arm. 'We could all use a good drink. What's that expression? Wetting the baby's head, yes, that's the one.'

Macro looked quickly at his friend. 'She's not up the-'

'No,' Cato cut in.

Julia laughed at their embarrassment. 'As I said, just an expression… for now. Come, let's go.'

AUTHOR'S NOTE

The ruins of Palmyra still stand in the eastern desert of Syria and are well worth a visit. Much of what remains provides evidence of the main developments of the city across the centuries since its founding. The high water mark of Palmyra's history comes some two hundred years after this tale when the warrior queen, Zenobia, briefly threatened to overrun the eastern half of the Roman Empire. That is an epic tale in itself (and one I might well turn to at a later date!). I have taken a few liberties with the layout of the city as it would have been in the mid-first century. A vast temple was built over where the citadel of this book would have been, and I have largely followed the lines of the later walls.

The kingdom of Palmyra occupied a critical position between two powerful empires who were separated by desert. Rome and Parthia had long been engaged in a protracted cold war that had, on occasion, flared up into open warfare. Rarely had these conflicts been resolved in Rome's favour. General Crassus, at the head of a mighty army, had been annihilated at Carrhae in the first century BC, and Mark Antony failed in a disastrous campaign a few years before he was crushed by his political rival Octavian (the future Augustus).

Ultimately Palmyra was annexed and brought into the Roman province of Syria around the time this novel is set.

The typical means by which this was achieved was through a treaty conferring client kingdom status on the small kingdoms that surrounded the Roman Empire. In exchange for Roman protection, the autonomy of the kings who signed these treaties was gradually eroded until their lands were absorbed into the Empire.

The key difficulty faced by Roman armies was the highly mobile nature of the Parthian army, which was made up of mounted missile troops and a small force of heavy shock cavalry. The Romans had great difficulty in finding a way to pin the enemy down long enough for the legions to close on them. An early case of asymmetrical warfare, one might argue.The only way to force the Parthians into a full-on battle would have been to choose a confined ground over which the armies must clash. The trick of it would be to lure the Parthians in, since they would be very wary of closing with the Romans unless the prospect of victory was imminent. In other words, something very much along the lines of the plan conceived by the acting prefect of the Second Illyrian.