Parthian Vengeance (36 page)

I returned the gesture. ‘Your servant, lady. I have to confess that I am a little confused by the message I received summoning me here.’

‘Your friend was right – a tall man on a white horse with a scarred face,’ she said.

‘And where is this “friend” now?’ I asked.

‘With the goddess,’ Afrand replied. ‘Can I offer you refreshments?’

‘No, thank you. I would like to see her now.’

‘Very well. Follow me, majesty.’

We walked across the courtyard, which was now empty of people, through an arch in a stonewall that led to a second courtyard. On the roofs of the buildings that surrounded this courtyard were at least two score of dovecotes housing dozens of white doves. Afrand saw me admiring them.

‘White doves are the personal birds of Ishtar. Worshippers purchase sacred cakes made in our own kitchens, which they crumble and feed to them. Thus do they hope to gain favour with the goddess.’

‘And does it work?’ I enquired innocently.

Afrand looked at me with her large hazel eyes. ‘The goddess grants those who are worthy what they desire.’

‘And how many are worthy?’

‘She said that you were always full of questions,’ she replied.

‘Who?’

‘Your friend.’

We carried on walking across the second courtyard to a building at the far end that had a façade decorated with niches and narrow buttresses. Two guards stood at the centrally placed entrance cut in the brickwork – two golden doors. They snapped to attention as Afrand approached and then one banged on the doors.

They opened and Afrand beckoned me to enter.

‘These are the goddesses’ personal quarters which only a chosen few may enter. Come, King Pacorus.’

She walked inside and I followed. We entered a windowless chamber lit by oil lamps hanging from the walls and filled with the aroma of burning jasmine. As my eyes got accustomed to the half-light I could see a white curtain hanging from a gold rail in front of me that led to another room. Two priestesses dressed in white approached and bowed to me, one holding out her hands.

‘Your friend waits beyond the curtain with the goddess but you must leave your sword here. No weapons are permitted in the presence of Ishtar.’

I unbuckled my belt, handed my sword and dagger to the priestess then walked forward. I stopped and turned to Afrand.

‘Are you not coming?’

She shook her head. ‘Her words are for your ears only. Do not fear, you are beloved of the gods. Place the lock of your wife’s hair on the altar before you ask a question. You can retrieve it once the audience is over.’

I felt a chill go down my spine. ‘How do you know of such a thing?’

Afrand seemed surprised at my question. ‘Your friend told me, of course. How else would I know of such an intimate item?’

I swallowed and walked towards the curtain, then pulled it back and entered Ishtar’s sanctuary. This room was even darker than the other chamber; a handful of oil lamps cast a dim light. The smell of jasmine was even stronger. I strained my eyes to observe the room, which like the one I had just left was windowless but had a lower ceiling. There were no seats or other furniture, just gold stands on which incense burned. I walked forward to approach the statue of Ishtar that stood on a marble pedestal, a low altar placed before it to receive offerings. I reached inside my shirt and lifted the chain that held the lock of Gallia’s hair over my head and placed it on the altar. My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at the statue carved from alabaster and inlaid with rubies. The goddess stood naked before me, supporting her breasts with her hands. She was curvaceous and seductive just like her priestesses.

The smell of jasmine began to make me feel light-headed as I stood in front of the altar. I strained my eyes to discern any movement or sound. There was none.

‘Pacorus.’

I was startled by my name being whispered. I looked around but could discern no one else in the room.

‘You have achieved much and yet there is so much more that you must do.’

It was a woman’s voice, soft yet strong, commanding yet kind. My heartbeat increased.

‘Are you, are you Ishtar, lady?’

She laughed, though it was not in a mocking way.

‘Oh, Pacorus, you are just the same as when I first met you. I am not a goddess. I am your friend.’

‘Do you have a name, lady?’

‘That is not important. What is important is that you remain strong for your task is not yet complete. Your enemies grow strong but the gods have sent you helpers who will aid you to defeat them. But they are not kings and princes.’

‘I do not understand.’

‘Do you not? Then I will help you see. The one born in the land of water must be given his own army, and you must journey with the one who came from the desert who will furnish you with temple gold. It is always darkest before the dawn, Pacorus. You must keep the faith, little one.’

I turned to face my celestial visitor but when I did there was nothing but an empty space. I waited for a few more minutes to see if she would speak to me again but there were no more words. I picked up the chain and replaced it round my neck and then left the sanctuary, confused. Afrand saw my confusion as she escorted me back to Remus.

‘The gods speak in riddles,’ I said at length.

‘Your friend was not a god, she was as real as you or I.’

Now I was even more confused. ‘But you sent me into the holy sanctuary of Ishtar.’

‘Because that is where she wanted to see you.’

I was getting angry now. ‘And you let this person, whom you had never seen before, just wander into your holy of holies? She could have been any trickster or liar.’

Afrand remained calm as I hoisted myself into Remus’ saddle. She held his reins.

‘All the priestesses who serve Ishtar here are chosen by the goddess for their special and unique gifts. For example, one can see things that will happen in the future. Yesterday she had a vision of a dark-haired woman walking into the temple and asking me to send a message to King Pacorus of Dura. The priestess told me that this woman would tell me of the scar on your cheek, the others on your back and leg, and the lock of your wife’s blonde hair you always wear round your neck.’

‘These things are known to many people,’ I answered.

‘The visitor also told me of the last time you saw each other, when you kissed her hand when she held it out to you, though she meant for you to take it, on that storm-lashed night when her son was born and you promised to take care of him.’

I looked at her and my blood ran cold.

‘Did she give you her name?’ I asked.

‘Of course. It was Claudia.’

Chapter 9

I said nothing to Gallia or anyone else about my experience at the temple. I rode from Afrand and her seductresses with an angry heart, thinking I had been the victim of a cheap trick. But if that was so, how did she know about that night in the Silarus Valley long ago when I had indeed held the hand of Claudia after she had given birth to the son of Spartacus? And what purpose would it serve to deceive me thus? What was I to the high priestess of Ishtar? With these thoughts swirling in my mind I rode back to the palace to find Gallia waiting for me in our private chambers.

‘Where have you been?’ she quizzed me.

‘Sightseeing,’ I answered evasively.

‘Well, now that you are here I wish to ask you a favour.’

She had changed from her riding gear and was dressed in a sheer, sleeveless white dress. She was standing framed in the arch that led to our bedroom balcony, the sunlight streaming into the room and highlighting her naked body beneath her dress. I let my eyes go from hers down to her breasts and then her thighs.

She glided towards me and slipped her arms around my waist, drawing her mouth closer to mine. She was wearing the most delightful perfume.

‘What is the favour, my sweet?’

She drew her mouth closer to mine and kissed me tenderly, then pulled away to look at me with the eyes of a temptress.

‘I want you to ask Orodes to stay here in Babylon for a while longer.’

She began kissing my neck, her hot breath on my skin, her body pressed against mine.

‘Orodes?’

Her hands came to the front of my body and unbuckled my sword belt, letting it fall to the floor. She tugged my shirt from my leggings and ran her hands up my back.

‘He likes it here, it would be a shame to drag him back to Dura.’

She closed her lips on mine and her tongue went deep into my mouth. My heart was racing and my loins were afire. She pulled away from my lips.

I ran my hand over her cheek. ‘He is his own man. He goes where he will.’ I let my other hand fall to her buttocks and gently pressed her groin into mine.

‘No,’ she purred, ‘he does what you ask him.’

She kissed me long and hard again and ripped off my shirt, then my vest.

‘I really need him back at Dura,’ I whispered into her ear, pulling up her dress with my hand.

She tensed and pushed me backwards. It was as if a demon had suddenly taken possession of her body.

‘So,’ she snapped, ‘you will not do this one small thing that I ask?’

I smiled and tried to pull her close. ‘Gallia, this is not the time for talk.’

She would have none of it, pushing my arms away from her. ‘Don’t Gallia me. If you will not to accede to my desire why should I submit to yours?’

‘What?’

She folded her arms and held her head high in a stance of defiance.

‘Why do you need him at Dura? I thought you commanded your army.’

I was confused. ‘Why do you want Orodes to stay here?’

She placed her hands on her hips and her nostrils flared. ‘Do I have to explain all my actions? Am I your slave to be questioned and ordered about so?’

She turned on her heels, picked up a cloak from the bed and wrapped it around her.

‘I am going to bathe. I will see you again when you are in a better mood.’

I spread my hands in exasperation. ‘When I am in a better mood? Can we please discuss this like civilised people?’

But she merely waved a hand at me and stomped from the room. I flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Women were more difficult to unravel than the famed Gordian knot that Alexander of Macedon had cut with his sword. It was a complicated knot tied by King Gordius of Phrygia that the famed Alexander had severed with a swing of his sword. That knot appeared mere child’s play when compared to working out my wife’s emotions.

I had no idea why she wanted Orodes to stay in Babylon. Perhaps he had offended her. I discount the possibility. Still, something had obviously irked her. Perhaps Axsen was drowning under responsibilities and required assistance. Who better than Orodes, upon whose shoulders great responsibility sat so lightly? That must be it. To solve the mystery I went in search of him and was told that he and Axsen had departed the city to go hunting. I saddled Remus once more and rode him to the royal hunting grounds located directly south of Babylon. Here the land adjacent to the river was not cultivated or populated but was given over to wildlife. There were irrigation channels that had been deliberately cut to water the foliage and trees and to attract game. This great area of greenery was out of bounds to ordinary citizens and was patrolled by royal gamekeepers. I wore my leather cuirass and plumed helmet to identify myself to them as I rode through poplar, willow and date palms, which fortunately had not been despoiled during the recent siege. Narses had probably used it for his own recreation. Near the river itself were great clumps of the large Mardi reed that grew to four times the height of a man.

The land between the Tigris and Euphrates may be desert but around the waterways there was a plethora of wildlife and fauna. The rivers are full of giant barbels, soft-backed turtles, catfish and eels, while along the banks and overhead fly babblers, crows, hawks, falcons, eagles and vultures. As I followed the churned-up track indicating the hunting party had preceded me I heard the grunting of wild pigs and saw fleeting glances of gazelles. Other animals that inhabited this area included jackals, wolves, hares, river otters, foxes and the king of the beasts: the lion.

The day was hot and still as I tilted my head to try to discern the noise of the beaters who would be with the royal party. But I could hear nothing. Perhaps they had halted for a midday meal. I continued to follow the track, going over in my mind again the earlier experience at the temple and the words of Afrand. I was lost in thought when Remus suddenly stopped and reared his head in alarm, his tail twitching and his ears drawn back. He began to move sideways and then backwards, his eyes wide with alarm. Something had obviously spooked him.

I stroked his neck. ‘Easy, boy.’

But my words did not comfort him. His tail was flattened between his legs; he snorted and became skittish. I looked around but could see nothing among the trees and bushes. But I knew that a threat was close. Horses are grazing animals and become agitated if they can smell or hear a predator, just like Remus was now. I scanned the terrain near me but saw nothing. I pulled my bow from its quiver and nocked an arrow in the bowstring as he backed away from a dense group of bushes about fifty paces in front of us. His ears were pinned back in fear and he snorted again. Then the animal broke cover.

Lions have little stamina and prefer to attack their prey from a close distance, usually around thirty paces, but this one was either very hungry or believed he could reach us before Remus had time to turn and flee. A big male with a great mane and huge paws, he came crashing through the bushes and bounded towards me. Survival instincts took over as I drew back the bowstring and released it as the distance between me and the lion disappeared in an instant. Remus reared up as the lion pounced. I was thrown from the saddle and my horse bolted from sight. As soon as I hit the ground I leapt to my feet and drew my sword and dagger. My helmet had come off my head and my bow lay on the ground several feet away. The arrow had struck the lion in the shoulder, fortunately deflecting his leap and saving both Remus and me, who was now fleeing as fast as his powerful legs could carry him.