Centurion (34 page)

‘Well done.’

Cato turned and saw Julia nodding at him. He forced a smile in return and replied in Latin,’Not so bad once you’ve tried it.’

‘If you say so. Now try some of the sweetmeats. They’ll help take your mind off it.’

As the guests settled down to eating their banquet, while continuing to talk in an animated fashion, Cato turned his attention briefly away from Julia to glance at the two princes sitting side by side, but not speaking, nor even willing to meet each other’s gaze. It had been a mistake to seat them next to each other, Cato decided. The king’s chamberlain had obviously hoped for a display of solidarity before the guests, but it was clear for all to see – the two brothers positively despised each other.

Macro had followed his friend’s gaze and guessed his thoughts precisely. ‘So much for unity,’ he said softly. ‘I fear we’re going to be fighting on two fronts before too long.’

‘Let’s hope not.’ Cato turned away and quickly helped himself to some chunks of spiced horsemeat in a rich sauce before Macro could offer him another eye.

The king stirred and shifted himself to face his Roman guests. ‘You’re a lucky man, ambassador.’

‘How so,Your Majesty?’

‘You have a fine daughter. A loyal daughter no doubt.’

‘I like to think so.’ Sempronius smiled and patted Julia on the arm.

‘Quite,’ the king continued.’Sometimes I wish that I had had daughters, and not two younger sons who fight like wolves in a pit. They always have. And when they have not been fighting each other, they have been defying me. As for Amethus – well, at least he has a good heart, even if he has no brains.’

Cato was astonished that the old man had spoken so openly before his sons. Behind Vabathus’ back Cato saw Balthus staring rigidly ahead as he ate with a leaden lack of enthusiasm. On hearing the king’s words Amethus had turned to stare at his father. Gradually his blank expression turned into an angry frown.

Vabathus continued in a weary tone. ‘Such has been my burden, and the burden of my people. For who shall inherit the throne after I am gone? The most able and cherished of the three has proved to be a traitor, the oldest changes his mind more often than the wind changes direction, and Balthus pursues his pleasures to the exclusion of all else. What chance of survival has my kingdom if I choose one of them to succeed me?’

Prince Balthus set his cup down with a sharp rap. ‘Enough! You do me wrong, Father! All I have ever tried to do is please you.’

Although the guests stirred and the conversation died at once, King Vabathus’ tired expression did not flicker, as if he had not heard a thing, or had simply heard it too often.

‘If you find fault in us,’ Balthus continued, ‘then I say it is your fault that you have not settled the matter of succession. Even though I am not your firstborn, I am the natural choice as your heir. If you had only confirmed me as your successor from the outset none of this would have happened. But no, you had to put it off.Year after year, and this is the result.Why do you think Artaxes is out there with his rebels? You dangled the prospect of the throne in front of his eyes for too long.You tempted him until his patience snapped. If you had only chosen me then Artaxes would have known his place, and he would not be out there with an army and we would not be caught in this trap . . .’ Balthus shut his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to control his anger.

Vabathus sighed. ‘Have you finished, my son?’ When there was no reply, the king gestured towards Sempronius. ‘You see? What hope is there for Palmyra?’

‘There is always hope,Your Majesty,’ Sempronius replied smoothly. ‘I am certain that whoever succeeds you will be able to count on the friendship and support of Rome. Rome never abandons her allies.’

Prince Balthus laughed at that, and turned to face the ambassador. ‘It’s funny how today’s ally so often turns out to be tomorrow’s imperial province.’ He gestured towards his older brother. ‘If this fool does succeed the king, then we might as well hand Palmyra over to Roman tax farmers and the Roman legions right now.’

Amethus scrambled off his couch and glared down at his father. ‘No brains . . . That’s what you said. No brains. No mind of my own. Well, let me tell you . . . I’ve had enough of it. I’m not an idiot. I may not have the intell . . .’ He paused and his brow twisted in concentration. ‘Intelli . . .’

‘Intellect?’ Balthus suggested. ‘Intelligence?’

Amethus nodded vigorously. ‘Yes! That’s the word.’

‘Which one?’

‘Both. Either. Anyway, the point is I still have a good heart. I know right from wrong and I would be a good king. That’s what Krathos says. So I’ve had enough of being called a fool!’

Amethus turned and strode across the roof garden and disappeared through the formal doorway, leaving the other guests shocked by the openness of the rift between him, his father and Prince Balthus.

Vabathus shook his head sadly. ‘You see what I have to put up with. You see my dilemma? I could weep for my people.’

Cato and Macro had been startled by the previous outbursts and an embarrassed silence hung over those seated around the banquet tables. At length Sempronius cleared his throat and spoke in as reasonable a tone as he could manage. ‘It has been a long day, Your Majesty. I expect everyone is exhausted.’

‘Yes.’ The king smiled. ‘Too tired to tame their tongues.’

‘Then perhaps we should all retire for the evening. I am sure that Centurion Macro and Prefect Cato are most grateful for the honour you have shown them tonight and would not object to an early end to the banquet, to allow tempers to cool.’

‘You are right,’ the king conceded. ‘It would be for the best.’

The guests began to rise from their couches to take their leave of the king. Balthus went with them. Macro glanced round and then pulled a bread basket towards him and started loading it with the food spread out on the other platters. ‘Here, Cato, lend a hand.’

Cato frowned.’I’m not sure if this is the time or place for foraging.’

‘Well, if it isn’t, when is? Suit yourself.’ Macro cleared a few more platters and then grasped the handles of the basket and turned towards the king.

‘Er, thanks once again, your majesty.’

Vabathus acknowledged the remark with a lift of his fingers and continued chewing slowly. The Romans were almost the last to leave, and as they reached the entrance to the roof garden Cato looked back and saw the lonely figure of the king sitting at the abandoned banquet, with only his chamberlain still standing before him to keep him company. Night had fallen and the velvet heavens were sprinkled with stars. Low on the horizon a nearly full moon was rising over the desert, bathing it in a faint ethereal blue glow.

Cato fell in alongside the others.’Even if we do hold out until Longinus arrives, what will become of Palmyra?’

Sempronius shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Unless Vabathus chooses an heir we can work with, Rome will have to intervene.’

‘Intervene?’

Sempronius glanced round hurriedly and lowered his voice. ‘Annex the kingdom, turn it into a province. What else could we do?’

Macro nodded. ‘With those two sons of his, there is nothing else.’

As they headed down the corridor to leave the royal quarters Cato found himself walking alongside Julia. Her scent came to him again and as a warm rush of longing swept through his body he felt his heart beating against his chest. More than anything in the world he wanted to ask her to come to the signal tower again and gaze out over the city and the surrounding landscape. This time he would not be surprised by her presence, and it would go far better. He had sensed some kindred feeling in her and the desperation to know if he was right gnawed at him.

They reached the end of the corridor, and the arch that gave out on to the paved area between the buildings and the gate. The ambassador’s quarters were one way, and Macro and Cato’s the other.

Sempronius paused and clasped each officer’s arm in turn. ‘Fine work this morning. When I get back to Rome I will be sure to inform the Emperor.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Macro replied.

Cato nodded.

‘Well, then, good night. Come on, my dear.’ The ambassador and his daughter took a step away.

‘Julia,’ Cato blurted out. They paused.

‘Yes?’

‘I wondered . . . I wonder if you would do me the honour of walking with me.’ Cato winced at the awkwardness of his words.

‘Walking with you?’ Julia arched one of her fine eyebrows. ‘Where?’

‘Ah! The, er, same place as last night, I was thinking.’

Sempronius turned to her and smiled as he patted her cheek. ‘There, I told you the prefect was interested in you. Go, my child. Walk, talk, but nothing else, mind. Cato, I trust you are an honourable man.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Sempronius stared at him for a moment, and a flicker of anxiety crossed his face before he smiled. ‘Good night to you all, then.’

He turned away and made off through the moonlight towards his quarters. Macro shifted awkwardly. ‘Me too. I’ll see you later, Cato.You too, miss.Tomorrow I mean.’ Macro turned away, took a few steps and then paused. ‘Want me to save you any of the food?’

‘No, thank you. I’m fine.’

‘Well then. Be good.’ Macro nodded and trudged off into the darkness. Cato and Julia listened to his footsteps fading away, and then turned to each other with shy expressions. Julia’s lips parted in a smile.

‘Now that the parents have gone . . .’

They both laughed, and then Cato took her arm in his and tugged gently. ‘Let’s go, then.’

The anxiety of a moment ago had disappeared and in its place he felt a pure joy at being with her, even here in the besieged citadel, sensing the warmth and softness of her arm against his in the cool night air. They walked in silence for a moment before Julia spoke.

‘I feel so sorry for him.’

‘Hmm?’

‘King Vabathus. He looks so weary, so heartbroken.’

‘Yes,’ Cato said vaguely. The comment had jolted him back from his little reverie and now the prospect of the troubled days to come settled on him like a dead weight. ‘It can’t be easy for him, but he has to be strong for all our sakes. If he lets the situation in the citadel overwhelm him, then Artaxes has won, and we . . .’ He could not complete the sentence as a vision of Julia lying amongst the slaughtered Romans flitted through his head. ‘Anyway, let’s not think about it. It’s early, and there’s so much I want to say.’

‘Like what?’

Cato laughed. ‘I don’t know. Nothing . . . Everything. I don’t care.’

‘Oh dear.’ Julia knitted her brows. ‘That doesn’t sound very specific. But I’m sure we will manage.’ She gave his arm a little squeeze as they reached the base of the signal tower and stepped into the dark entrance to the staircase.

‘Careful,’ Cato warned. ‘It’s pitch black in there.’

Julia lightly stepped ahead of him. ‘Coward. There’s nothing to be-‘

She gave a sharp cry and pitched forward.

‘Julia!’ Cato leaned forward and felt for her arm. As he found it, his fingers closed and he lifted her back to her feet and out of the darkened entrance. She looked shaken and Cato saw that there was a dark smear down the front of her stola.

‘There’s someone in there.’ Her voice trembled. ‘I tripped over him.’

‘Stay there. I’ll look.’

Cato crouched low and eased himself into the entrance, feeling across the stone floor. His fingers brushed against cloth, and he probed further until he discovered a limb, a leg encased in a soft boot. Taking hold of the ankle he dragged the body out into the moonlight and stood up. The man’s dark outer robe was pulled up over his head.

‘Who is it?’ Julia asked. ‘Is he . . . dead?’

‘Only one way to find out,’ Cato muttered as he leaned over and pulled the loose fold of material down to reveal the face. The dark wavy hair and handsome features of a nobleman emerged into the dim light.As Cato continued to draw the robe back they saw the ragged slash that cut right across his throat. The garments on his upper body were drenched in blood and glistened in the moonlight.

Julia touched her hands to her mouth.’Oh, no . . .Prince Amethus.’

The corpse lay on a low table in the guard room close to the gate. Cato had run to find Macro and between them they had carried the body here. Julia had arrived a moment later with her father.

‘Then it’s true.’The ambassador nodded as he drew back the robe and made out the dead man’s features, streaked with blood. ‘Prince Amethus.’

Julia glanced at the face and quickly looked away. ‘Poor man.’

Sempronius flicked the robe back so that it covered the jagged tear in Amethus’ throat, but left his face exposed. ‘This has complicated the situation somewhat.’

‘Really?’ Macro folded his arms. ‘I’d have thought it made things simpler. With one son his father’s enemy and another dead, that clears the path to the throne for Prince Balthus.Which makes him the most likely suspect, don’t you think?’

‘Quite.’

Cato thought back to the end of the banquet and shook his head. ‘No. Balthus was one of the last to leave. Just before us, and he left with some of the nobles. He couldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have had the time.’

‘Maybe so,’ Macro conceded. ‘But then it’s obvious. He was setting up an alibi while someone else did the deed on his orders. Balthus is our man all right. He certainly had a strong motive.You remember what he said to us on the way here, Cato? All for taking the throne and disposing of his brother, with our blessing. It looks as if he’s not prepared to wait any longer.’

Cato nodded slowly as he thought it over. ‘It certainly appears that way.’

‘Appears?’ Macro frowned.’Who else do you think could be behind this?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Have you sent anyone to notify the king?’ asked Sempronius.

‘No,’ Cato replied. ‘We thought it best to tell you first, sir. So you could be prepared.’

‘Prepared?’ Sempronius raised his eyebrows.’Prepared for what? Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with this?’

‘We assumed that you didn’t, sir. But it’s always best to have time to think a situation through before you have to act on it.’