‘But, lord, I am the commander of your horse archers,’ he protested.
‘Alas, Surena, we outrank you all,’ I replied. ‘I am a king, Domitus is a general and Malik a prince. Byrd is a civilian and thus exempt from the chain of command. And you wouldn’t expect the women to undertake such an unpleasant task, would you?’
He mumbled and grumbled as he collected the manure in his hands and dumped it on a boulder that lay in the sun. Malik assured him it was absolutely necessary for the task in hand. As a horse usually produces around fifty pounds of manure daily, there was no shortage of it to dry in the sun. When he had finished he spent a long time in the rock pool washing his hands and using the point of his dagger to clean under his fingernails.
‘The Ma’adan use buffalo dung to keep away flies, do they not?’ I said as he sat by the edge of the pool examining his fingers.
‘They do, lord,’ he muttered. ‘But I thought I had left that life behind.’
‘Never forget your roots, Surena. If you know where you have come from then you know where you are going.’
He was far from convinced. ‘If you say so, lord.’
An hour later Malik judged the dung dry enough for his purpose and lit the great pyre that had been built. He tossed the dung on the flames and then opened his leather pouch and extracted a handful of powder.
‘Sulphur,’ he grinned at me, tossing it on the fire.
Soon a pillar of thick black smoke was extending upwards into the sky.
‘That will be seen miles away,’ said Domitus with alarm.
‘Exactly,’ replied Malik.
The fire burned down to ashes and the pillar of black smoke got thinner and thinner until it resembled a dark needle pointing towards the heavens and then disappeared altogether. Malik said that we should wait in this spot and so I sent Surena back up the canyon to keep watch. We had seen no sign of pursuit but if there were any Roman patrols out they would have seen the smoke and would be heading in our direction. But Malik dismissed my fears.
‘Believe me, Pacorus, if there are any enemy horsemen riding in this region they will have more to concern themselves with than us.’
So we unsaddled the horses and I shot a curious ibex that thought it was safe to peer at us from a rock ledge fifty feet above our position. He moaned when the arrow struck his belly and then tumbled from the ledge onto the rocks below. Domitus skinned and gutted it and had the meat roasting over a fire by the time I relieved Surena on watch. Three hours had passed before we heard the sound of horses and men coming from further down the wadi. Surena and I immediately strung arrows in our bowstrings and Domitus drew his gladius, but Malik laughed and said that we had nothing to fear.
Then men in black robes on horseback filled the canyon as at least a hundred Agraci warriors rode towards us. And above us on either side I saw other Agraci horsemen on top of the cliffs, black shapes silhouetted against an intense blue sky. Like Malik the warriors in front of us carried round black shields, though these men also carried long spears in addition to the swords at their hips. Their faces were covered by head cloths, which gave them the appearance of demons from the underworld. Rachel and Miriam shrank back from the black host before them, seeking sanctuary in each other’s arms.
A figure on a grey stallion at the head of the group urged his mount forward. It was a beautiful Agraci beast with a wide, flat forehead, broad nose, long, erect ears and a straight and slender neck. I assumed the man who rode on its back was Lord Vehrka judging by his horse’s rich decoration: a black, beaded halter decorated with silver discs and black tassels. His wool and cotton saddle was also decorated with black tassels. The man slid off his horse’s back and walked towards Malik, pulling aside his head cloth to reveal his face. I have to confess that he did not have the appearance of a wolf, being slim, of medium height and possessing a thin face with a large nose. He bowed to Malik.
‘Greetings, Prince Malik, welcome to my lands.’
‘It is good to see you, Lord Vehrka. I must request your hospitality.’
Vehrka bowed his head again. ‘It is freely given.’
‘One of our party is injured and we require additional horses for those who have none.’
After the introductions were complete Vehrka gave orders for his surgeon to attend Aaron. I watched as the man took a small jar from his bag and rubbed a blue paste onto Aaron’s wounds. The man had a very light touch because Aaron did not flinch as the ointment was applied to his broken skin.
‘What is that?’ I asked Vehrka.
‘Malachite, ground down to make a paste. It will heal his back and also keep the flies away. Wealthy Egyptian women use it to decorate their eyes but we use it for its medicinal properties. Looks like someone gave him a thrashing.’
‘He was lucky,’ I said. ‘A few more minutes and he would have been nailed to a cross.’
‘You took a great risk, lord, riding into enemy territory with so few warriors.’ He looked at Rachel and Miriam. ‘And two women?’
I laughed. ‘We picked them up on our return journey.’
‘Ah, they are your slaves.’
‘Not slaves,’ I corrected him. ‘Guests.’
‘And now, lord, you must allow me to entertain you in my camp as my guests.’
With Aaron’s wounds dressed and the two women given their own horses we rode east once more to Vehrka’s camp. That night we were treated to roasted goat and warm camel milk as we sat round a raging fire with the Agraci lord and his warriors. Vehrka asked me to sit beside him but said little during the early part of the evening. Malik sat across the fire from us, between Domitus and Byrd who seemed his usual distant self.
‘Prince Malik will marry my daughter,’ said Vehrka quite unexpectedly.
‘Really?’ I was shocked. I had no idea that Malik was even seeing a woman let alone thinking of marrying one.
‘Her name is Jamal, which means “beauty”, and even though a father will always say that his daughter is attractive in this case it is true. It will be a good match.’
‘I am pleased for you.’
‘One day Malik will be king and she will be his queen and they will rule the whole of Arabia. It is their destiny.’
‘Malik is a great warrior,’ I agreed.
‘Haytham says that you are a great warrior, lord. I have heard of your many victories. But it is unwise to travel without a great number of your warriors with you. I shall therefore escort you back to Palmyra.’
With our new companions the rest of the journey through the desert was uneventful. It took twelve days to reach Palmyra, the pace slow due to the frequent halts we had to make to dress Aaron’s wounds and the fact that neither Rachel nor Miriam had ridden a horse before their escape from Judea. They conversed with Aaron but said very little to the rest of us, though Miriam especially was very polite to me as far as our inability to communicate allowed. She knew a few words and phrases of Latin on account of having had some conversations with the Romans in Jericho, and used them to speak with Domitus, who I think was pleased that he was no longer the poorest horseman among our group. As the days passed their conversations grew in length as they whiled away the hours in the saddle, the gaps filled in by Aaron who rode behind them beside Rachel. Domitus told me that Miriam’s husband had died of a plague that had ravaged Jericho and Judea several years ago and that she had struggled to keep a roof over her and her daughter’s heads, working in the fields and offering lodgings to travellers. She and Rachel slept in their small barn if they had house guests. She had frowned on Rachel seeing Aaron because she knew that he had joined the party of Alexander in the civil war. When the Romans came Aaron disappeared and unknown to her he had fled to Palmyra and then Dura. She had tears in her eyes when she told Domitus that she and her daughter would never be able to return to Judea.