‘So,’ I asked Nergal sitting across from me, ‘how is Mesene?’
‘It prospers,’ he replied. ‘I have given the marshlands to the Ma’adan to do with as they please.’
‘Really?’ I was shocked, for at a stroke Nergal had reduced the size of his kingdom by half.
‘It is true, lord,’ added Praxima, his Spanish-born wife who was now called Queen Allatu by the people of Mesene and revered as a god.
‘You have halved your kingdom, then.’
Nergal shrugged. ‘The marshlands belong to the Ma’adan, the people who live there. It has always been so. All I did was confirm what was already a fact. Besides, in return they have been most generous in supplying us with food and recruits.’
‘They serve in your army?’
Praxima grinned. ‘Of course! They know that a strong Mesene protects them also. They do not wish for another king like Chosroes.’
I was just about to converse with Nadira when the hulking figure of Thumelicus tapped Nergal on the shoulder and asked if he could sit in his chair.
‘Shouldn’t take more than a minute.’
Nergal winked at Praxima and duly surrendered his seat. Thumelicus ran a hand through his fair hair, his pale blue eyes wide as a result of too much wine. Every year I had to go through the same ritual with him at the annual feast. He placed his right elbow on the table.
‘Best out of three then, Pacorus.’
I sighed and tilted my head at Nadira, taking care not to stare at her superb breasts.
‘If you will forgive me, lady.’
In no time at all a small crowd had gathered round us as I rolled up my sleeves, placed my right elbow on the table and linked hands with Thumelicus. His grip tightened as he gaped at Nadira’s chest, while Godarz’s new love appeared to be bemused, confused and appalled in equal measure at the scene unfolding before her.
‘So,’ announced Thumelicus loudly, ‘we all know the rules. Best out of three and the winner takes Queen Gallia, the crown of Dura and the contents of the royal treasury.’
Companions banged on the table and cheered in approval, while Thumelicus grinned at Gallia and winked at Diana.
Thumelicus looked at Godarz. ‘On your signal, granddad.’
Godarz rested his hand on Nadira’s arm. ‘Your manners do not improve with the years, Thumelicus. Please begin.’
I like to think of myself as strong and physically fit, but Thumelicus was a brute who had fought as a gladiator in Italy many years ago and was now one of my best centurions, and as usual he almost wrenched my hand off as he forced it down onto the table. He did the same with my left hand as the first round ended in my ritual humiliation. Thumelicus took a great gulp of wine and then slammed his right elbow down on the table once more.
‘Come on, Pacorus, make a fist of it! An easy victory is no victory at all.’
I gripped his hand tightly and once more Godarz gave the signal to begin. I tried in vain to defeat the great German brute but to no avail and once more my hand was smashed down on to the table. Thumelicus screamed in triumph as he forced down my left arm to win the bout, though as he twisted my arm and I turned away in pain my eyes were confronted by Nadira’s radiant breasts rising up and threatening to burst free from the confines of her dress. Rarely has the taste of defeat been so sweet!
Thumelicus banged the table with his fists, jumped up and raised his hands in the air. Those around him slapped him on the back.
‘Behold,’ he shouted, ‘the new King of Dura.’
I rose from my seat and offered my aching hand to him.
‘If I had a crown I would present it to you, you big German savage.’
He smiled and took my hand, then dragged me towards him and locked me in an iron embrace. He released me and grinned at Gallia.
‘A kiss for your champion, my lady?’
Gallia blushed and offered her hand to him. Thumelicus hoisted himself on to the table and then slid across its surface to be in front of her, then embraced her and kissed her on the cheek. She pushed him away.
‘Behave yourself Thumelicus, you have had too much to drink.’
He kissed her again and retreated back over the table.
Diana and Praxima squealed and clapped with delight and Gafarn was bent double with laughter.
As the evening wore on every Companion came over to Godarz and congratulated him on catching such a prize in Nadira. All of them were genuinely happy that he had found a soul mate in the autumn years of his life.
‘She’s half his age,’ snapped Gallia as we took breakfast on the palace terrace the next morning. The Citadel sat atop a high rock escarpment overlooking the Euphrates, its sheer sides making it impregnable from the riverside. A large terrace surrounded by a stone balustrade had been created next to the rear of the throne room. It was extended so that each bedroom, ours included, that faced the river also had its own balcony.
‘What difference does that make?’ I replied as my two eldest daughters ran around us screaming at the tops of their voices. Little Eszter sitting in her raised chair cooed with delight. ‘He is obviously happy and she seems very agreeable.’
She raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Yes, I saw you gawping at her chest. Behaviour hardly becoming of a king.’
I told my daughters to sit down and eat their food in silence, but just as they had taken their seats Dobbai appeared and they began racing around once more, tugging on Dobbai’s black robes.
‘Can you calm them down?’ I asked her.
Dobbai kissed Claudia, Isabella and little Eszter and then ushered the first two back to their chairs.
‘Feeling delicate, son of Hatra?’
‘Too much drinking and leering last night,’ sneered Gallia.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Dobbai, ‘grown men acting like small boys. It must have been excruciating for you, my dear.’
‘Gallia is jealous of Godarz’s new love.’
Gallia glared at me. ‘I am not. I hope he is happy.’
‘Just not with a beautiful woman half his age,’ I replied mischievously.
‘How pathetic are the carnal desires of men,’ said Dobbai as she sat down in her wicker chair stuffed with cushions. She rarely left the palace these days, being content to amble around the palace and watch over our daughters.
‘They love each other,’ I said.
They both looked at me as though I had taken leave of my senses.
Dobbai picked at a date. ‘She wants something from him that is all. If you had any brains you would see that.’
Gallia nodded gravely. ‘That is what I think. I should tell Godarz before he gets hurt.’
‘You will do no such thing,’ I said. ‘He is happy and deserves to be. We will leave well alone.’
‘Ill omens are abroad in Hatra, you both would do well to take care.’ Dobbai’s face was blank as she relayed this news to us, as though speaking on behalf of another.
‘Ill omens?’ Gallia looked concerned.
Claudia put down her food and walked over to Dobbai and hoisted herself on to the old woman’s knee.
‘I saw an owl perched above the gates of the Citadel last night,’ said Dobbai, stroking Claudia’s long fair hair.
I felt a sense of dread. An owl was a sign that evil was present and was usually a portent of imminent death and destruction, or at the very least grave misfortune. Owls were believed to represent the souls of people who had died unavenged. I immediately became alarmed for the safety of my wife and children. Dobbai saw my look of concern towards the little ones.
‘They are not in danger, son of Hatra. It is you that faces peril.’