He said nothing for a while but just stared at us. It was Rasha who broke the silence.
‘Where is your camp, father?’
Haytham looked at his daughter and smiled. ‘Not far. Shall we invite your friends to accompany us?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, ‘we have had a very tiring day.’
He looked up into the sky and then at us. ‘Come, you will enjoy my hospitality tonight.’
Rasha walked back to her horse and Gallia helped her into the saddle. Haytham vaulted back into his saddle and led the way to his camp. His warriors rode all around us, though their demeanour was not threatening. An hour later we trotted into the Agraci camp, a sprawling collection of black tents grouped around one of the many oases that dotted the desert. The camels and horses were tethered among the throng of date palms growing around the waterhole. After we dismounted our horses were taken from us. We were then shown to a large rectangular tent made of strips of woven camel hair laid over a wooden frame. The front section was tied open to allow air to circulate in the interior, and there were rugs on the floor. Moments later Rasha was at Gallia’s side, tugging at her hand for her to go and see her father’s camels. So off they went, leaving me alone with a tall, lean man about my age who had black tattoos on his cheeks. He had removed his turban to reveal long, straight black hair and no beard. He had olive skin and dark brown eyes.
‘My name is Prince Malik, the son of King Haytham.’ His voice was deep like his father’s.
‘I am pleased to meet you, Prince Malik.’
‘Can I get you anything, lord king?’
‘No, thank you.’
He bowed in a perfunctory manner and then turned to leave, stopped and looked back at me. ‘Thank you for returning my sister to us. My father has missed her greatly, as have I.’
With that he was gone. I took off my sword and laid it on the rug, then stretched out beside it. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of men talking and laughing and camels bellowing and roaring. Despite being in the midst of the Agraci I felt no sense of danger or threat, just relief that we had made initial contact with their leader and that he had spared our lives thus far. I must have dozed off, for I was rudely awakened by Gallia throwing herself onto the rug beside me.
‘That child has boundless energy,’ she said. I opened my eyes and saw that she had closed the tent flaps.
I was suddenly alarmed. ‘Where’s Byrd?’
‘Oh he’s all right. Last time I saw him he was deep in conversation with one of their warriors concerning a camel.’
‘Byrd, deep in conversation? Perhaps you were seeing a mirage.’
‘What’s a mirage?’
I propped myself up on an elbow to look at her. ‘An illusion created by the heat. Perhaps this is all an illusion and we are actually lying dead in the desert.’
‘Shut up, Pacorus. I need to get some rest before the feast tonight. It’s being given in our honour, apparently.’
‘Feast?’
‘Oh yes,’ she motioned for me to lie back down and rested her head on my shoulder. ‘You know, for a king you sometimes know so little.’
It was dark by the time we had rested and refreshed ourselves, and when Gallia opened the tent flaps two black-clad warriors were waiting to escort us to our feast. We walked among groups of warriors sitting around fires mostly ignoring us, though one or two did act with surprise when they saw Gallia’s blonde locks shimmering in the firelight as she passed. Haytham’s tent, a cavernous black structure, was pitched beside the water among the date palms. A guard took our swords before we entered the tent. Six warriors sitting in a circle momentarily halted all their talk as Gallia unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to the Agraci guard. We bowed our heads to Haytham and entered the tent. He rose when we entered and invited us to sit on his right side, the place of honour. Also present were Rasha and Malik, the young girl rushing up to Gallia and throwing her arms around her before pulling her by the hand to her place. I saw Byrd chatting to a man who looked as sullen and unkempt as he did. He raised a hand to me and carried on talking. Clearly he had found a kindred spirit. Rugs covered the floor and we sat down cross-legged in the circle.
Haytham clapped his hands and food and drink were brought in and served. This comprised jugs of water and large flat dishes piled high with stewed lamb served on a bed of rice and bread and sprinkled with pine nuts. While we ate I noticed that Haytham took only morsels from what was served, all the time looking at Gallia and me. After we had eaten, washed our hands in bowls of warm water and dried them, Haytham clapped his hands once more. The servants disappeared and the flaps of the tent were closed, leaving us alone with our host and what I took to be his senior commanders.
‘A most sumptuous meal, lord,’ I said. ‘I thank you for your hospitality.’
Haytham nodded. ‘It is given freely. But now, King Pacorus, we must talk of things more serious. What do you want of me?’
This Agraci king was clearly no fool. He knew that I could have sent his daughter back to him with a lowly escort of a few guards. I did not need to bring her myself. He knew this, as he also knew that my mission had a dual purpose. I decided to be direct and not insult his intelligence.
‘I desire peace between our peoples, lord.’
As a tired Rasha fell asleep in Gallia’s arms, Haytham said nothing for a long time. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. Eventually he spoke.
‘For years your people, the Parthians, have hounded and killed the Agraci, driving them from their lands and treating them no better than animals. Even your own father, King Varaz, has led raids against my people. And now you, his son, sit in my tent and ask for peace. As a father I thank you for giving me back the life of my daughter, but as a king this is an irrelevance. So I ask you, why should I should be interested in peace with you?’
I knew that what I said in reply would determine whether my reign at Dura would be a success or failure. In my mind I had formulated a plan that I had not even told Gallia of. Now was my chance to put it into action. But only if the right words came from my mouth. I said a silent prayer to Shamash that He would assist me.
‘King Haytham, everything you say is correct. Your people have been wronged by mine, and there is nothing I can say that can change that. However, I would ask that you look to the future rather than the past. If we can have peace between the Agraci and Dura, then the result will be mutual benefits.’
‘What benefits?’ I knew that I had pricked his interest.
‘As you know, the trade caravans that travel between the Orient and the west bring great wealth to those kingdoms they journey through. Hatra, my father’s kingdom, is the richest in the Parthian Empire because of the duties it charges on the non-stop traffic that goes between east and west.’
One of the warlords present interrupted me. ‘Wealth that Hatra has used to purchase weapons and men with which to murder the Agraci.’
‘Silence!’ Haytham’s shout caused me to jump and Rasha to open her eyes.
‘Please continue, King Pacorus,’ he said, more quietly, freezing the man who had spoken with his iron-hard stare.
‘It is five days’ ride from Dura to your capital at Palmyra, and another five west to reach the coast of the Mediterranean. The owners of the caravans would gladly pay to have access to the coast through your territory. There are many in Egypt who crave the spices, silk and riches of the East, and would pay handsomely for them.’
Haytham smiled. ‘So you wish to become rich.’
I saw no reason to lie. ‘Of course, why not? We can both become rich. Is that not more desirous that butchering each other and having the vultures pick at our bones in the desert?’
‘I propose a peace treaty between us. Dura will make no further encroachments upon your territory. Your people can have access to Dura’s markets, and you will be able to levy customs duties on all trade caravans that pass through your territory. In return, I ask that your raids upon my territory cease immediately.’