Two tugs and the man's trousers and undergarment were round his knees. 'No interest in, say, the goddess Artargatis? No yearning to take a trip to her temple at Hierapolis?'
Suspicion clouded the man's face. 'No, I… no, never.'
'Pity, considering what's going to happen to you.' Maximus reached out and grasped the man's testicles. With the other hand, he showed him the sword. The man whimpered. 'They make a good living, her devotees, the Galli. Of course, they castrate themselves. And I think they use a stone blade, flint most likely. But mutatis mutandis – if you survive, I'm sure they'll take you in.'
The man was making incoherent begging noises.
'Now, what is it to be? Are you going to tell me the truth, or is it off to Hierapolis for you?'
As if a dam had broken, the words poured out. 'My name really is Titus Esuvius. I was born in Lutetia in Gaul. I was with a cavalry ala. We came out east for the campaign of Gordian III. I… I did something wrong. I had to desert. Been with the Sassanids for years – married, got a Persian family. The Lord Suren himself ordered me to Zeugma to spy out the defences. What could I do? I had no choice. Please, let me live. I want to see my children again.'
The stream of words was cut off when one of the Dalmatian troopers led his horse up from the rear. 'The reptiles are coming.'
The prisoner wriggled free of Calgacus. He threw himself on his knees. 'Please, leave me here – bound and gagged – I won't tell them anything.'
'No more words.' Maximus's face was set.
Just as the man reached up a hand to grasp Maximus's chin in supplication, the Hibernian's sword swung. A flashing hack caught the prisoner square across the neck. Blood sprayed hot.
'Mount up,' said Calgacus.
Demetrius stood near the corpse with the half-severed neck. Maximus was cleaning his blade on the dead man's wolfskin.
'You promised him his life,' the Greek said.
'No, I said death was his last worry.' Maximus swung up on to Pale Horse. 'Is that not so for all of us?' They were riding flat out, the Sassanids hard on their heels. The thunder of their passing echoed back from the stony slopes on either side. At least it was simple, thought Maximus, just two choices: run or fight. No need to be thinking of clever tricks with decoys, lanterns or anything else. Nowhere to hide and nowhere to go but down the one track: just run or fight.
The track twisted and turned, rose and fell as it graded across the hills. It was narrow, the surface loose and uneven. The hooves of the horses scrabbled as they slid around sharp corners. More than once, riders had to grab the twin front horns of their cavalry saddles to prevent themselves being thrown. A couple of times Demetrius was nearly on the floor. The young Greek was no centaur. This cannot go on, thought Maximus.
'Ease up, Calgacus,' he called. 'The body of the spy will have delayed them. Ease up, or there'll be a fall, probably a pile-up.'
The Caledonian considered then brought his mount down to a fast canter.
Maximus looked up at the sky. The night was rushing on, not much of it left. But they must be getting to the edge of the hills. After that, just a small plain, four or five miles across, and they would be safe behind the walls of Zeugma.
The small figure was standing in the middle of the track as they came round the corner. Maximus and Calgacus pulled hard on their reins, thighs braced firm into the leather and wood of their saddles. They swerved round the obstruction as they drew to a stop. Behind was confusion. Demetrius's mount barged into the back of Pale Horse. Miraculously, no one had ridden down the child.
Maximus scanned the slopes all around. No movement. Nothing. It couldn't be a trap. He swung a leg over Pale Horse's neck and dropped to the ground.
The child was a fine-looking boy, about eight years old. He had a heavy, fine neck ornament. He was crying.
'My mother has gone. She was scared. She said I was too slow. She has gone.'
Maximus held out his arms. The child hesitated for a second. Maximus knew that his battered face, the tip of his nose missing, was unlikely to be reassuring. He scooped the boy up. The child buried his face in the Hibernian's shoulder.
'My father is on the Boule of Zeugma. He is a rich man. He will reward you.' The boy chattered in Greek.
'We best be moving,' Calgacus said.
Maximus put the boy on Pale Horse then jumped up behind him. They headed off.
They had not gone far when they heard the sounds of pursuit: high, keen cries, the low rumble of many horses. Calgacus pushed the pace. The horses were slow to respond. They were as tired as the men. These four days had taken it out of them all.
From the crest of a rise, Maximus glimpsed the flat, empty greyness of the plain below; it wasn't far ahead. As the track dropped down behind him, a trooper's mount stumbled. In its fatigue, it almost went crashing. If it had, it would have brought others down with it.
This is no good, thought Maximus. If we're out on the open plain on spent horses, the Persians will run us down as easy as catching mackerel.
The horses were labouring up a straight incline. It ran for about fifty paces. The hill on the left reared up into a small, sheer cliff. Stones fallen from its face were scattered across the track. Near the top of the incline, a sizeable pile narrowed the path to single file.
As good a place as any, thought Maximus. He pulled over, indicated to Calgacus to join him, and waved the others past.
'I think I'll be staying here a while.' Maximus jumped down. He unhooked his shield from the saddle. 'Change horses and take the child.'
Calgacus said nothing. Stiffly, he dismounted, collected his own shield and, while Maximus held the heads of both horses, climbed up on the grey gelding behind the boy.
'You sure?' Calgacus asked.
'Sure.' Maximus looked up at the Caledonian. 'Back before we left the army, I promised Ballista I'd look after his boys. That is on you now.'
'Aye, it is.' Calgacus did not meet Maximus's eyes. His gaze wandered over the face of the cliff.
The noise of the pursuit was clear.
'Say goodbye to Demetrius for me.'
'I will.' Calgacus untied the bowcase and quiver from Pale Horse's saddle. He threw them down to Maximus. 'Keep mine as well.'
The noise of the pursuit swelled.
Calgacus gathered Pale Horse's reins, turned his head and moved on. His eyes still did not meet Maximus's but continued to look here and there over the cliff.
Left alone, Maximus worked swiftly. He led the horse a little way beyond the large pile of fallen stones and, with a strip of leather, hobbled its front legs. He scooped up Calgacus's bow and quiver together with his own. He ran back and took his stand half behind the mound. He drew his sword and put it and his shield in front of him, near to hand on the ground. He propped up the quivers so he could easily reach the arrows, and the spare bow beside them. He selected an arrow, examined the straightness of its shaft, tested its point. Satisfied, he notched it, half drew his bow and sighted down the track.
As he waited, time played strange tricks on Maximus. It slowed down; stopped altogether. Each breath seemed to take an age. The noise of the Sassanids grew louder, but they did not appear. The sounds seemed to fade. Maximus relaxed the bow. He counted his arrows: twenty. He looked at the stars, as unknowable as the hearts of men. They were paling. It was nearly dawn.
The first two Sassanids took him by surprise. They turned the corner side by side, at a good canter. Maximus drew the bow. He aimed at the one to his right, deliberately low, intending to hit the horse. He released. Having grabbed another arrow, he saw the horse was down, its rider rolling in the dust. He shot at the other and missed. He shot again. The arrow buried itself into the horse's chest. The animal somersaulted forward, its rider catapulted over its head. He crunched hard into the stony path.
Another Sassanid had negotiated the first fallen horse. Sword out, he was urging his mount up the incline. Calmly, deliberately, Maximus shot him. The arrow plucked him off his horse's back. The smell of blood strong in its nostrils, equine cries of pain loud in its ears, the horse bolted up past Maximus and away.