Ballista thought for a moment. 'Of course your father may send a messenger to your own people. But I will send one of my staff to tell the other councillors. Thank your father for his offer.' That is one political upset avoided, thought Ballista.
Bathshiba wheeled her horse. 'And did the stranger get her?'
'No, the gods tricked him. The stories of the north tend not to have happy endings.'
Anamu was waiting for the new Dux Ripae at the gate of Arete.
The column of dust was leaving the hills and heading for the town. At least the new barbarian overlord had the good manners, or had been well enough advised, to send a messenger. In fact, almost everything had been ready for some days and, that morning, the scouts that Anamu had posted on the crest of the hills had reported that the new Dux Ripae was at hand. Ogelos's men had been there as well.
Anamu looked across the road at Ogelos. As often, Anamu was irritated by the ostentatious simplicity of his dress: the plain tunic to mid-calf belted with a white cord, the nondescript pointed white hat, the bare feet. The image of a simple, otherworldly priest was undercut by Ogelos's ridiculously trimmed and tweaked two-pointed beard (going grey, Anamu noted with satisfaction). Ogelos held a palm branch in one hand, a jug, bowl and two knives in the other. He stood by a tall vase of holy water and a portable altar. A haze of heat wavered above it. The fire had been lit in good time; there was no longer any smoke. Ogelos was organized. Anamu had never underestimated him.
Behind Ogelos was an acolyte in a deliberately contrasting magnificent costume in scarlet and white. He held an incense burner and a rattle. Behind the boy, and clad like Ogelos, were two burly priests waiting with the sacrificial bull.
The other priests were standing back towards the gate. All the religious groups in Arete were represented: the priests of Zeus Megistos, Zeus Kyrios, Zeus Theos, Atargatis, Azzanathcona and Aphlad, of Bel and Adonis, and many more. Even the priests of the groups that denied the gods of the others existed were there – the head of the synagogue, and the leader of the Christians.
Legionaries from the vexillatio of Legio IIII Scythica stationed in Arete lined the last hundred yards of the road to the gate. Their presence was both to show respect for the new Dux and to keep back the demos, the lower classes – not that any trouble was expected. Their commander, Marcus Acilius Glabrio, the only one mounted, sat on a very fine chestnut in the middle of the road blocking the gateway exuding an air of calm superiority.
On Anamu's side of the road stood the majority of the council, bedecked in embroidered togas, bracelets, amethysts and emeralds, and their precious walking sticks, with silver knobs, and golden tops wonderfully carved. There was little division between religion and politics in Arete. Most of the priests were also councillors, and every man was the head of religion in his household. The real divisions were those between the three leading men of the town.
In our fathers' day there must have been thirty caravan protectors in Arete, thought Anamu. Even two years ago there had been a dozen. But it had taken skill to avoid exile, to remain alive when the city first opened its gates to the Persians, then rose up and massacred their garrison. Now there were three. Ogelos had survived, prospered, his treacheries masked by his false piety as priest of Artemis. larhai had fled to the Romans, returned and organized the massacre. He had always been like a bull at a gate; sudden changes of heart, a burning certainty that he was right. Anamu had not had strong feelings about either the arrival of the Persians or their violent end. He saw himself as a tamarisk bending with the wind, possibly one of those groves of tamarisks on this side of the Euphrates, one that conceals a wild boar. Anamu played with the image; poetry was very dear to his soul.
The column of dust was high now, its leading point halfway across the plain. Everything was ready. As the year's archon, the leading magistrate, it was Anamu's duty to make sure it was. Barley, hay, suckling pigs, full-grown pigs, dates, sheep, oil, fish sauce, salt fish – all had been delivered to the palace of the Dux Ripae. He ticked them off in his mind; all were to be paid for by the Dux. Profit and poetry sat easily together in Anamu's soul.
Further along the road into the plain the band struck up. The drums and stringed instruments laid down fast, chopping rhythms while the whistles soared above. A children's choir joined in, to herald the adventus, the ceremonial arrival of the new Dux.
First rode a standard-bearer, with a standard in the shape of a dragon; the wind whistling through it made it writhe and hiss like a real beast. A couple of lengths behind came the new Dux Ripae. He cut a dramatic, if barbaric figure.
'You bastard, larhai!' Anamu was not sure if he had said it out loud. The music would cover it anyway. You devious bastard! Anamu had-expected to see Iarhai. He had known for some time that larhai was travelling with the Dux (he expected that Ogelos knew it as well). But he had not expected to find Iarhai's men leading the column. It looked less like larhai was travelling with the new Dux than that he was escorting him, protecting him. 'You conniving reptile, you…' Anamu stopped at the same time as the band and choir.
The Dux Ripae pulled his horse to a halt. He lifted his right hand, palm forward, the ritual gesture of benevolent greeting and power. The townsmen of Arete lifted their right hands in return and began the acclamations.
'May the gods keep you! May the gods keep you! May the gods keep you!'
You camel-fucking bastard! Outwardly, Anamu was waving his palm branch and chanting with the rest. Inwardly, he was raging. You fucking pimp! How could you prostitute your only daughter?
Bathshiba and Iarhai had walked their horses forward. They halted just behind the Dux. larhai caught Anamu's eye, and his battered face smiled a slight smile.
Anamu had not survived the time of troubles by giving way to his emotions. By the time the chanting was done he was fully in control. He watched as Ogelos dipped the palm branch into the tall vase, flicked the holy water, threw handfuls of incense on to the altar, poured a libation and drew his knife across the throat of the bull. The bull behaved and died in a not inauspicious way.
The sophist Callinicus of Petra stepped forward to make the formal speech of welcome. Ogelos claimed to prefer simple truths simply said, and larhai made no secret that display oratory bored him, but Anamu had been looking forward to it. Appreciation of the art of rhetoric was one of the signs of a cultured man.
'With fortunate omens have you come from the emperors, brilliant as a ray of the sun that appears to us on high…' The introduction, based on joy as was the tradition, had been solid enough. How would he deal with the main body of the speech, focussing on the subject's actions, his native city or nation and his family? 'You will face up to danger like a good helmsman, to save the ship as the waves rise high…' Straight to theoretical virtues, a good move. The orator had wisely avoided mention of the Dux's origins; and they knew nothing as yet of his actions. It continued in the same vein, courage followed by justice, temperance and wisdom, and finally, the epilogue, 'We have come to meet you, all of us, with joy… calling you our saviour and fortress, our bright star… a happy day dawns out of darkness.' Callinicus ended with a sophist's flourish, breathing heavily and wiping away the sweat to show the effort of extempore composition.
Not bad, thought Anamu – although Callinicus's stuff always smelt of the lamp. It would be interesting to see how the barbarian got on with his reply. It was tradition to speak of having long yearned to see the gymnasia, theatres, temples and harbours of the city. This would be difficult enough, even if the Dux were not a barbarian, with a city he had almost certainly never heard of before his orders came, and which lacked gymnasia, theatres and, unsurprisingly in the middle of a desert, harbours.