I also took along the stallion Wildfire. I’d had considerable success training the animal already, partly because he wasn’t used to being outside in cold weather and forgot his distrust of humans in his desire to come under the awnings and be warm. I’d just begun breaking him to the saddle and I judged it would be bad for him to interrupt the training for the time needed for the journey.
On the second day of the journey we met Arshak and his dragon, riding up the north road from Eburacum to their posting at Condercum. It was a cold gray day of intermittent snow, but the sun came out just before we met them and we saw the glitter of their arms in the light while they themselves were only a shadow on the road ahead. They’d spread out across the verges of the road, as we had ourselves, trying to spare the unshod hooves of the horses. Arshak was riding in the vanguard beneath the golden dragon of his standard. As we rode on toward him, he slowed, and when we were almost level, he stopped, and all his men halted behind him. I stopped as well, only a few paces from him, and we stared at each other for a long time in silence. I noticed that he was wearing his coat of scalps. His liaison officer, Severus, looked puzzled.
“Greetings,” he said at last. “I didn’t see you when you were last in Corstopitum. I wanted to tell you how pleased I am that you’re still alive.” He smiled.
I knew that smile: he’d given it to Facilis often enough. I thought of asking him if he had a cup of hospitality he wished to share with me-but there was no point baiting him. “Greetings,” I said, instead. “I’ll be pleased to meet you any time, now that we are to be neighbors.”
He smiled again and ran a hand caressingly down his spear. “You’re a true nobleman, in most ways,” he commented. “You’re bound to Eburacum, you and your”- his eyes raked Facilis-“your good friends?”
I nodded and gathered up Farna’s reins. “And you’re bound to Condercum. I won’t keep you-unless you have business with me now?”
His eyes lit, but he shook his head. “I wish I did. But not now. Still, I’m glad you didn’t drown. A prince of the Iazyges should die by the spear.”
“I will die as the god wills it, and by the hand he appoints,” I replied, “as you will yourself, Arshak.” He flinched slightly, as though the connection between gods and killing made him uneasy. “A pleasant journey to you,” I told him, and started my horse forward.
He moved his white Parthian aside to let me pass, and turned in the saddle to watch me as I rode on. When Facilis passed him, he smiled again and fingered the neck of his coat-then gestured for his drummer to give the signal, and continued on.
“Have you quarreled with Lord Arshak, my lord?” Banadaspos asked me unhappily, when our party was through the long coils of the dragon and on the clear road behind it.
I looked at him. “You should not ask such questions, Banadaspos,” I said. “I don’t want dueling between his men and ours. Whatever is between him and myself is our own business.”
He was not satisfied with this reply. “It is our business to guard our prince,” he said sullenly. Then he added, in a whisper, “That story Arshak told of chasing a boar never made sense. But I don’t see how…” He stopped. He didn’t see how a quarrel with Arshak could end in a drowning and a lie.
“This affects my honor, not yours,” I said; and at this he fell reluctantly silent.
The rest of the journey to Eburacum was uneventful. We arrived in the middle of the afternoon of the fourth day after leaving Corstopitum.
Eburacum, which we had last visited early in the autumn, lies in green, fertile valley land upon a river, and just south of the Highlands of Brigantia. Besides being the home for the Sixth Legion, the city is the base for the civilian administration of the whole of the northern half of the province-which is run by the legionary legate, though he is officially subordinate to the provincial governor in Londinium. Being in a position of such importance, Eburacum has naturally prospered. The stone-based half-timbered buildings crowd unpleasantly close together, overshadowing the street, and the main market square seems in contrast very bright, surrounded by the white facades of the grand public buildings. The shops sell everything from hunting dogs to imported glassware.
The legionary fortress lies the other side of the river from the market square, a severe castle frowning upon its ostentatious neighbor. All forts are much alike. All have the same shape, rectangular with rounded corners; all have the same two main streets, the Via Principalis and the Via Principia, running from the four gates past the neat barrack blocks, and where those two streets meet, the headquarters building and the commanding officer’s house invariably face one another. I had always found the uniformity repellant before, and this time was unsettled to discover that it merely seemed convenient.
We were met at the fort gates and escorted first to the stable yard, where we were instructed to leave our horses and the wagons, and then to the places where we were supposed to sleep-a guesthouse for Facilis, the tribune’s house recently vacated by Arshak for myself, and barracks for the rest of the men. I did not argue, but I told my men, in Sarmatian, that they could stay in their wagons if they wanted to. We were hardly going to be pushed into the barracks by force, and the wagons could be parked as comfortably in the stable yard as anywhere else, so why quarrel over what can be ignored? I left the others to settle in, and, though it was late in the afternoon, took Eukairios and went at once to see the legate.
I was admitted immediately. Priscus seemed pleased to see me, and was happy to get down to business. He had chosen a number of farms for the horses, but he was perfectly happy to add River End to the list. Eukairios and I had a tentative list of mares to breed in the next season, and stallions to cover them, and the arrangements as to which farm would take how many horses were soon made. Priscus then turned to the “other business” he’d mentioned, and my apprehensions about it turned out to have been entirely misplaced. Another eight dragons of Sarmatian cavalry were expected to arrive in Britain between April and July, and the legate wanted my advice on how to accommodate them. I was surprised and delighted, particularly when it turned out that one of the companies was the fifth dragon, commanded by my elder sister Aryazate’s husband, Cotys, a friend as close as any I’d had in my life. These troops were wintering in various locations between the Danube and the ocean but would cross the Channel as soon as the weather permitted. I gave Priscus a great deal of advice on the spot, mostly to do with choosing sites that had enough grazing and allowing the troops the use of cattle to produce all the milk they’d need. Even when the legate had had enough for one day and dismissed me, I kept thinking of other things to tell him, and ordering Eukairios to write them down. Eukairios was impatient to stop work and go see his fellow Christians, and eventually said so.
“You’ll simply have to learn to write,” he told me, while I chewed on my lip in frustration. His eyes were glinting with amusement.
“But I have heard that writing is difficult, and one must learn very young, or not at all.”
He smiled, putting away his pen. “Now, if I were to assure you that writing’s easy, I might find myself in the same position as your men did when they promised me that riding a horse is the easiest thing in the world, and that human beings just naturally stay on-and then were unable to account for it when I fell off. I certainly don’t find writing difficult. But I did indeed learn it very young, if not quite as young as you Sarmatians learn riding, since you seem to sit on the saddle behind your mothers before you can even walk. All I can say is I think you’d be able to learn it and you’d undoubtedly find it useful if you did. But I must go speak to my friends as soon as possible, so that we can make arrangements for… if they agree.”