Ten minutes later, after being blindfolded, Domitus and I were being guided out of the fortress and down the steep slope that we had earlier ascended. Two of Alexander’s men led me and another two behind held on to Domitus, who did nothing but complain to them.
‘Careful, you sons of heathens, I could break my leg on these stones. Take off this bloody blindfold.’
‘You wanted to come, Roman,’ said Alexander, who accompanied us together with Aaron. ‘The blindfold remains until we have reached our destination.’
‘You didn’t blindfold Aaron,’ replied Domitus.
‘That is because I trust Aaron and do not trust you, Roman.’
‘Just be quiet, Domitus,’ I said. ‘The sooner we get there the sooner the blindfolds will be removed.’
We descended the slope and then turned right and walked along the bottom of a ravine for ten minutes or so before scrambling up another slope that was steeper than the one we had just come down. My helpers guided me along a narrow path that I assumed had either been cut in the rock or had been formed naturally. The surface was uneven and on a couple of occasions I tripped on jagged rock edges. Even in our Agraci robes it was still very hot and I could feel the sun on my face. Then the sun’s heat disappeared from my head and I was aware that we had entered a cave of some sort as our footsteps echoed around a chamber.
‘Take off their blindfolds,’ commanded Alexander.
My eyes did not need to get accustomed to the light because we were standing some distance into a tunnel in the hillside, the bright yellow light at the entrance around fifty paces behind us. Alexander’s men lit torches and then we walked further down the shaft. The cave was the width of five men and around ten feet in height, though the further we walked along it the lower the ceiling became until after a couple of minutes we were stooping.
We walked for a further two minutes, following the tunnel as it curved to the right, and came into a large chamber with a high rock ceiling. The noise of our boots and sandals scraping the rock floor echoed around it as we scrambled down a flight of roughly hewn steps and then crawled through a gap six feet wide and half the height of a man. We entered a second, smaller chamber where the air musty but not damp. As more torches were brought in for illumination I saw rows of chests along both sides, thirty in all. Each chest was around three feet high, three feet in length and two feet in width. The torches crackled and illuminated our faces as Alexander walked over to the first container and lifted the lid.
I gasped as the torchlight lit the gold coins that filled the chest. Alexander went to the next chest and the next, lifting their lids to reveal that each one was also filled with gold. Then he went over to the other row of chests and lifted their lids to reveal similar treasure. The chamber was suddenly filled with a yellow glow as the flames of the torches reflected off the hoard of bullion.
‘As you can see, Roman,’ Alexander said to Domitus, ‘just because we appear poor does not mean that we are so. It serves our purpose to appear to all the world as though, to use your quaint phrase, we do not have a pot to piss in.’
‘A truly remarkable store of treasure, Alexander,’ I said.
‘There are others,’ he replied, ‘similarly safely hidden from prying eyes. So do we have a bargain, King Pacorus?’
I walked over to him and offered my hand.
‘We have a bargain.’
He took it and I felt his iron-hard grip once more.
‘Aaron has the details as you know. And now I must blindfold you again.’
Back at the smashed fortress we collected our horses and with Alexander and his men descended from the hilltop and headed back west towards the Salt Sea. We made camp for the night a mile inland from its northeastern shore by a small stream that fed the huge lake. Beforehand most of Alexander’s men had seemingly vanished into the hills and wadis that crisscrossed the area, leaving only the prince, Levi and Ananus for company.
‘Large groups of men attract the attention of our Roman occupiers,’ he explained as we sat round the campfire later that evening. ‘And it is a wise precaution to ensure that the routes to the safe places where the gold is stored are watched at all times.’
‘How many Romani troops in Judea?’ asked Byrd.
‘Fortunately not many, at the moment,’ he replied. ‘Most Roman troops are quartered in Syria. The local Roman troops are mostly used to support the rule of my uncle, King Hyrcanus.’
‘Hyrcanus is your uncle?’ queried Domitus.
Alexander nodded. ‘That is so, Roman. Two brothers fought a civil war and Judea was the loser.’
‘Why did Pompey support your uncle?’ I asked.
‘Because he is the elder brother and because he is weaker than my father and thus more easily manipulated by the Romans. He does nothing without first consulting Antioch.’
‘And if you are successful in your endeavour to free Judea of Roman rule,’ I asked him, ‘will you kill your uncle?’
‘When we free Judea,’ he said determinedly, ‘my uncle will flee with the Romans. If he stays he will die.’
‘The Romans will also kill your father and brother in retaliation for your insurrection,’ said Domitus grimly.
Alexander regarded him. ‘I know that, Roman, and so do they. The price of freedom is often a heavy one.’
‘Where did the gold you now possess originally come from?’ asked Domitus.
Alexander traced lines on the ground with a stick he was holding as he told the story. ‘During the civil war between my father and his brother, Hyrcanus brought a great army before the walls of Jerusalem and besieged us in the city. My father and his brother both made a terrible mistake in asking Pompey, who was at that time in Syria, to act as a mediator in their disagreement. At first my father was glad that he had approached the Romans for Pompey persuaded Hyrcanus to withdraw his army from before Jerusalem, but I had a premonition from god that this was merely the calm before the storm that would herald our doom.’
As the fire crackled and spat we sat transfixed by Alexander’s tale, even the normally disinterested Byrd had his chin rested on his clenched hands and was staring at the Jewish prince, who continued to trace patterns on the ground with his stick.
‘I was in command of the garrison in the city when my father left Jerusalem soon after Hyrcanus, hurrying to meet Pompey and thinking that he could out-fox the Roman conqueror of the east. While my father and his brother bickered and were fed lies by the Romans I gave orders that the temple gold was to be evacuated from the city. Aaron drew up rotas and a small band of trusted subordinates organised the loading and transportation of the gold to eastern Judea, where it remains.’
‘You evacuated all the gold?’ I asked.
Alexander stopped his tracing. ‘Only a fraction before Pompey himself appeared before the walls of Jerusalem with his army.’ He threw the stick into the fire. ‘The rest you know.’
Aaron organised the guard rostra as the fire died down and we prepared for our last night in Judea. It had been a most agreeable day and in my mind I began to make plans for the coming months. With the gold that we would receive for the weapons supplied to Alexander, Silaces’ men could be re-equipped to reinforce the army. With an additional eight thousand horsemen I could think once more of striking at Mithridates, this time in strength. I would ask Haytham to accompany me and once again enlist the lords and their men. I would therefore be able to raise upwards of fifty thousand men or more. Shamash had smiled on me this day and I went to sleep a happy man.
Domitus, who squatted beside me, shook me awake.
‘Get up, Pacorus. Aaron has gone.’
Chapter 10
‘Gone,’ I wiped my eyes and slowly rose to my feet. My back ached and my mouth felt parched. ‘Gone where?’