Eboric fell back and was beside me. ‘They’re on to us,’ he said with low urgency. ‘Rado thinks the only option is to go back on the path and make a dash for it.’
I looked round and nearly shat myself. What had been the faintest and most ambiguous glitter was now the swift approach of a dozen riders. They were moving across the plain with long and easy strides, and weren’t above a mile away. The moon was behind them but I could see its stray reflections on their helmets and mailed breastplates. They weren’t coming straight at us, but were moving in a line that suggested they’d try to block our path. I looked behind. So far, it was just these pursuers. I grinned at the boy with an optimism I didn’t feel. The only thing in our favour was that we had no weight of armour to hold us back when it came to the chase.
I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I was never an instinctual horseman. Killing, lying, scholarship, ruling — in all these and more, I’ve adorned three generations. The bond a rider has with his horse, though, wasn’t something I had from birth, or ever managed to acquire. Give me a fast ship any day, if there’s need to get about in a hurry. Even so, I kept up with the boys. I pushed my head down and pounded forward across the firm mud of the path. For a while, I was able to tell myself that we were travelling as fast as any Circus charioteer in full pelt. Surely we’d outrun the Persians.
But these were highland cavalry. They were men who’d done a better job of keeping their empire free of nomadic invaders than we had. If that weren’t enough, they had a king whose displeasure was best avoided. They must have looked on us as I always have on anyone who’s tried arguing theology or finance or anything else with me. They were effectively on their home ground. Doubtless, the boys could have outrun them. But that would have meant leaving me behind and I don’t believe that crossed their minds. I didn’t dare unbalance myself by twisting round to look. Instead, I could soon hear them. Closer and closer came the sound of many hooves and of jingling harness. Time, I decided, to face up to the inevitable. I had my sword handy in its saddle sheath. Armour or none, I had no doubt I could cut a few of the riders down.
‘Rado, Eboric,’ I panted, ‘I command you to get out of here. Ride like the wind. I’ll hold them off.’
I might as well have spoken in Persian. ‘When I turn left, follow me!’ Rado snapped. From any kind of distance, the hill had been imperceptible. But I felt the sudden lift as the horse turned upwards. It even seemed to move a little faster on the firm turf. The top of the hill was a long ridge. We turned right and continued on a narrow path. Uphill, their weight had told against the Persians and they’d fallen behind. The sound of their approach became fainter. For a while, I didn’t hear it above my own ragged breaths. But this was a trick we couldn’t play more than once. The ridge was leading gradually down and I could see no more hills. Rado had bought us a little more time. That was all.
Even on the descent, I could feel that my horse was running out of puff. The beasts Rado had chosen were bred for endurance, not sustained speed. He and Eboric were light enough, or had the riding skills, to keep going a long way yet. The Persians were heavier, but had grown up with skills I could barely imagine. For me, it was a matter of counting the yards before my horse simply stopped.
I looked about. We were still in open country. The moon was casting long shadows on every irregularity in the ground. But irregularities aren’t the same as places of refuge. What we needed was a rope bridge across a ravine or a narrow path leading up through rocks. Out here in the moonlight, we were as visible, and would soon be as easily reached, as a louse crawling across white skin.
‘I’m not going back!’ I told myself. I couldn’t go back — not to Chosroes in his likely mood. When my horse did stop — and that couldn’t be long now — I’d get off and fight. I had a sword. I had a knife. I had size and weight and strength. If those didn’t quite serve me, the most Great King Chosroes would see of Alaric was his severed head. I’ve never had time for the Stoics, with their endless talk of death as the quick way out of trouble. Instead, I’d go down fighting and, assuming such things exist, the shades of my barbarian ancestors could rejoice that I’d gone into the darkness sword in hand.
‘Stop!’ someone shouted in Greek. ‘Stop or I’ll kill you!’ Thinking absolutely nothing, I looked up from the horse’s mane. There were men running beside me. I was approaching a line of other men with spears pointing at me. A better rider on a bigger horse might have smashed his way through. But Rado himself was already surrounded. I saw him rear his horse up to trample anyone who came too close and I saw the glint of his short sword. But he was already stopped and more men were closing in on him. I couldn’t see Eboric. Before I could get my one sword out, I felt the jab of a spear point in my side. ‘Get off the horse,’ someone said. ‘Just get off. I want you on the ground — now!’
I sat up and made a grab at the spear. Its bearer hadn’t expected that and I got it clean out of his hands. Holding it just below the metal point, I swung it about my head and managed to get the first man I saw on the shoulder. I threw it up in the air and grabbed it halfway along the shaft. Before I could use it properly as a weapon, two set of arms took me about the waist and pulled me from the horse. I fell heavily on the ground and lay there winded. My head was ringing and I could still feel the rhythm of the final gallop. I opened my eyes and was looking at two very young men. Both were pointing spears at my chest. I shut my eyes again and tried to think. I was a prisoner — that much was for certain. What I couldn’t work out was how the Persians could have got footmen all this way and why they all appeared to be Greek.
One answer was the sudden and repeated whizz of arrows in the distance, followed by screams and babbled pleas in Persian. There was a terrified neighing of horses and shouted orders and laughter in more than one dialect of Greek.
I opened my eyes and focused on the nearest of the young men. He pushed his spear closer against my chest. His moonlit face looked as scared as I felt. I smiled and spread my arms wide on the ground. ‘I am Alaric,’ I said slowly and firmly. ‘I am Lord Treasurer to the Emperor Heraclius. Please take me and my friends to your commanding officer.’
For a moment, he pushed his spear closer still against me. All he had to do was panic or stumble and I’d be done for. Then, a slightly older man put a hand on his shoulder. He spoke softly and the spear was taken away.
I smiled again. Arms still carefully outstretched, I sat up slowly. Rado was on his feet, arms raised, a spearman jabbing at him from either side. Held in a big man’s arms, Eboric was struggling like a landed fish. I got unsteadily to my feet. ‘No violence,’ I called in Latin. ‘These men are Greeks. ‘We surrender,’ I said in Greek. ‘You can put your weapons down.’ I glanced back along the ridge. A couple of hundred yards away, I could see dim figures darting about. They might have been finishing off any Persians who’d survived the arrows. Or they might have been bringing the horses under control. Our pursuers must have had their minds absolutely fixed on us. The interception seemed to have taken them as much by surprise as it had us.
I turned to the slightly older man. ‘I don’t know who you are or what you are doing here,’ I said. ‘But you have my thanks. Now, can I please speak with the man in charge?’
‘Man in charge?’ an amused voice said behind me. ‘Why must it always be a man in charge? Women can do much more, I’ll have you know, than shuffle between cooking pot and bed.’
A little earlier and I’d have jumped and looked dumbfounded. I was too worn out now, and too willing just to take things as they were. I turned and bowed to Antonia. Hard to tell in this light, but she looked rather less absurd here in men’s clothing than she had in Constantinople. ‘If only I had the authority,’ I said with grave irony, ‘I’d make you the new Commander of the East. Unlike your father ever did, you’ve just won a battle.’