I walked back to the palace not knowing if I had convinced him, but hoping I had said enough, if only to give him a better life. But then, perhaps he was contented.
‘So, will he come?’
Gallia was checking her bow and the arrows in her quiver and her mail shirt was hanging on a wooden frame by the side of our large bed.
I shrugged. ‘You know Byrd, he’s a law unto himself.’
She pulled her sword from its sheath. Like mine it was a Roman cavalry weapon called a spatha. Its blade was straight and each edge was sharpened. My spatha had been a gift from Spartacus and was one of my most treasured possessions. My most treasured possession was standing next to me, examining the razor-sharp edges on her own sword.
‘You said he was selling pots.’ She gingerly stroked one of the edges with a finger, smiling in approval at its lethality.
‘That’s right, down in the south of the city, in one of the less salubrious districts.’
‘You should have commanded him to come.’ She slammed her sword back in its scabbard.
‘And you think he would have obeyed?’
She looked at me. ‘Of course not, but it would have got you used to issuing commands. Isn’t that what kings do?’
I ignored her jibe. ‘In any case, I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want to be with us. How do you feel about Diana staying here?’
She pulled her dagger from its sheath and examined its blade. ‘I will miss her, but she likes it here and everyone adores her, especially your mother. I think she sees the baby as a sort of grandchild. And knowing that Diana is happy and safe is a weight off my mind.’ She giggled. ‘Who would have thought it, a Roman kitchen slave who has become a princess? It’s a strange world.’
A loud knock on the door startled us. ‘Lord king, a courier has arrived with a package for you. He awaits you in the throne room.’
We followed the guard from our bedroom, through the palace’s private chambers and along a long corridor that led to the rear of the throne room. Kogan’s guards stood around the room at intervals of ten paces, looking like bronze statues in their breastplates and helmets. My father sat in one of the high-backed chairs, my mother in another. Assur stood to one side of the marble-covered dais, along with Kogan and Vata. Gafarn, Aliyeh and Diana were standing on the other side, all of them looking at a distinctly nervous soldier who held what appeared to be a large bundle of hides in his hands. The silence was oppressive as we entered the room.
‘Ah,’ said my father, ‘perhaps now the mystery can be solved.’
I was bemused. ‘Mystery, father?’
‘Indeed. This man,’ he pointed at the soldier stood in front of him, ‘has brought a gift for you. Tell him.’
The soldier wore red leather boots, red leggings and a yellow tunic. He cleared his throat.
‘Thank you, majesty.’ His eyes darted between me and my father, who began drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne, until a disapproving look from my mother persuaded him to desist. The soldier continued. ‘This package is to be delivered to King Pacorus in person.’
My father pointed at me. ‘Here he is, so you may deliver it, finally.’
The soldier bowed his head at me and laid the bundle at my feet. He then reached into his tunic and pulled out a tightly rolled parchment, which he handed to me. ‘I was also instructed to give you this, majesty.’
I took the parchment, which had a wax seal. ‘Instructed by whom?’
‘The sorceress of King of Kings Sinatruces, majesty.’
My father suddenly looked interested, as did everyone else. He waved the courier away.
‘Open it Pacorus,’ said my mother.
I broke the seal on the parchment and unrolled it. The writing was in a language I did not recognise. ‘I do not know these words.’
‘Let Lord Assur take a look.’
Assur walked over to me and took the scroll. He peered at it for a long time.
‘I believe it is written in ancient Scythian, majesty, though I recognise only a few words. However, there is a clerk in the temple who is an expert on languages. I will bring him.’
He then handed me back the parchment and marched from the room. My father pointed at the bundle on the floor.
‘Perhaps Dobbai herself is in there, ready to spring out at you. While we wait for Assur to return, we will see what’s in it.’
‘It is Pacorus’ gift, Varaz, so he should open it,’ said my mother.
I pulled my dagger from its sheath and cut the cords wrapped round the hides.
Inside was a rolled piece of cloth. I gestured to Vata and Gafarn to give me assistance as I unrolled it. It was a large square standard, white in colour with gold edging. Vata held one corner and Gafarn the other as they held it aloft in front of me. It was as high at both of them, and Gafarn was over six foot in height. In the centre of the banner was a red mythical beast, with the head and talons of an eagle and the body of what looked like a lion. It also had wings.
‘How magnificent,’ remarked my mother.
‘There’s enough gold in that edging to pay for a palace,’ noted my father.
‘How long do we have to hold it here,’ complained Gafarn, ‘my arms are aching?’
‘What is it?’ asked Gallia.
‘It is called a griffin if I am not mistaken.’ Assur re-entered the chamber with a small, portly man scurrying beside him, who walked over to stand beside me and peered at the banner. He smelt of old scrolls and leather.
‘Mm, yes indeed. A griffin. Head of an eagle and the body of a lion.’
Assur handed him the scroll that came from Dobbai. ‘And this?’
The archivist held it close to his face and started mumbling to himself.
‘You were right, holiness. It is ancient Scythian. I haven’t seen this language written in an age.’
‘Would you care to read it to us,’ requested my father.
‘Read it?’ The archivist looked up and realised where he was. He blushed. ‘Yes, of course, majesty.’ He bowed awkwardly, and then bowed again to my mother. My father waved his hand for him to continue.
‘Can we put it down?’ asked Gafarn.
‘Lay it down on the floor in front of me,’ said my father. As they did so the archivist read the letter. His voice was crisp and a little high pitched.
To Pacorus, King of Dura Europos and son of Hatra, greetings.
Just as you have ended one journey, so you and your bride are about to begin another. Those who are beloved of the gods do not know what path has been set for them, and those of us who are close to the gods are given only glimpses of what they have in store for you. So it is with you, son of Hatra. The gods have given you a great gift in the form of your new bride, and to prove that you were worthy of her you had to throw off your chains and defeat your enemy in the heart of his kingdom. You have fulfilled that part of your quest, but know that it is only one part.
Behold your banner, which is the image of the Griffin, a creature that inhabited the land when the world was young, and when life and death were but a dream. I saw you riding upon this beast in a vision, and knew that it had been chosen for you. The Griffin makes his nest on the high peaks, overlooking his kingdom, safe from his enemies. He has the head and front talons of an eagle and this is appropriate, for your destiny is entwined with the eagles of Rome. You fight them but they are a part of you. The Griffin has the body of a lion, for you will be a lion of the desert when the time of troubles comes. The Griffin has wings to carry him far and wide, just as you will be called upon to go hither and thither to assist those who have need of you. Let the Griffin be your symbol to show the gods that you honour and respect them, so that you are allowed to keep your queen, who has been sent by them to be by your side.
Know you this as well. The white of the background is a symbol of the purity of your cause, and the red of the Griffin will be the blood that will be spilt in your quest. Heed these words, son of Hatra, and obey the gods. For they are watching you.