long face wore a serious expression and his brown eyes darted from me to Gallia and then Mark Antony. He looked back at me in confusion.
‘I am Harrise, chancellor to the great King Sampsiceramus. We were led to believe that King Haytham himself would be present for the exchange.’
‘He sent me instead,’ I answered.
The chancellor clasped his hands together in front of his chest.
‘And you are?’
‘Pacorus, King of Dura, friend and ally of King Haytham.’
‘And godfather to his daughter, Princess Rasha, whom your king now holds captive,’ added Gallia.
Harrise’s eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped in surprise.
‘King Pacorus, of course. If your majesty would wait for a few moments while I announce your presence.’
‘Be quick about it, then,’ I said.
He bowed his head then scuttled back to his monarch. I looked at Gallia.
‘Godfather?’
‘A nice touch, I thought,’ she replied.
The reed-thin chancellor returned, sweat running down his wrinkled face.
‘The great King Sampsiceramus would speak to you personally, King Pacorus.’
‘Not until we have seen that Princes Rasha is safe,’ said Gallia forcefully.
Harrise’s brow creased in consternation at the continual interruptions from the helmeted individual sitting on my right.
I smiled at him. ‘This is my queen, Gallia, who is like a mother to the princess. Like her I desire to see that she is alive before I speak to your king.’ I pointed at Mark Antony. ‘As you can see, our prisoner is alive and unharmed.’
So he scurried back to his king once more as the sun rose in the sky and roasted our backs. When he returned his robe was soaked with sweat for the temperature was almost unbearable.
‘The great King Sampsiceramus would be delighted to meet with you, majesty.’ He then bowed his head to Gallia. ‘And you, highness.’
Gallia turned to Vagises. ‘If they try anything, kill him.’
‘Kings do not “try anything”, my sweet,’ I said, ‘it is considered ill manners.’
‘My father was a king,’ she growled, ‘and he sold his own daughter into slavery. I have little respect for royalty.’
We walked our horses ahead as the king’s chariot edged forward, and from the ranks of the royal guard behind it came the familiar figure of Rasha, who was escorted by a great brute in scale armour, helmet, face veil and carrying a huge double-bladed axe, no doubt to kill her if any mischief was attempted. She trudged disconsolately behind the chariot until she saw Gallia coming towards her mounted upon Epona.
‘Gallia!’ she shouted and raised her arm.
‘Have no fear, Rasha,’ my wife answered back. ‘We are here to take you home.’
The phalanx of guards behind her moved forward slowly to be near their king, while behind me the Amazons and the other horse archers pulled their bows from their cases and edged their horses forward, but in truth the atmosphere was not threatening. My initial impression was that the enemy wished to avoid further bloodshed.
I halted Remus around ten paces from the king’s chariot. He really was an enormous man, with a massive fat neck and a bulbous nose. His eyes were very large and protruded from his fat face so that he resembled one of the goldfish that swam in the royal ponds at Hatra. He seemed to be a rather short man until I realised that he was sitting on a chair to relieve his legs of the great strain in supporting such an enormous weight. Directly behind the chariot were half a dozen slaves, all teenage boys, carrying towels and jugs.
‘Greetings King Pacorus,’ said Sampsiceramus in a slightly quivering voice.
I raised my hand to him. ‘Greetings King Sampsiceramus.’
Gallia removed her helmet and shook her hair free. The king’s eyes bulged even more as he examined my wife.
‘And greetings to you, Queen Gallia,’ he slavered.
I could tell that Gallia was disgusted by his appearance and manner but she played the queen and gave him a dazzling smile and bowed her
‘I am Harrise, chancellor to the great King Sampsiceramus. We were led to believe that King Haytham himself would be present for the exchange.’
‘He sent me instead,’ I answered.
The chancellor clasped his hands together in front of his chest.
‘And you are?’
‘Pacorus, King of Dura, friend and ally of King Haytham.’
‘And godfather to his daughter, Princess Rasha, whom your king now holds captive,’ added Gallia.
Harrise’s eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped in surprise.
‘King Pacorus, of course. If your majesty would wait for a few moments while I announce your presence.’
‘Be quick about it, then,’ I said.
He bowed his head then scuttled back to his monarch. I looked at Gallia.
‘Godfather?’
‘A nice touch, I thought,’ she replied.
The reed-thin chancellor returned, sweat running down his wrinkled face.
‘The great King Sampsiceramus would speak to you personally, King Pacorus.’
‘Not until we have seen that Princes Rasha is safe,’ said Gallia forcefully.
Harrise’s brow creased in consternation at the continual interruptions from the helmeted individual sitting on my right.
I smiled at him. ‘This is my queen, Gallia, who is like a mother to the princess. Like her I desire to see that she is alive before I speak to your king.’ I pointed at Mark Antony. ‘As you can see, our prisoner is alive and unharmed.’
So he scurried back to his king once more as the sun rose in the sky and roasted our backs. When he returned his robe was soaked with sweat for the temperature was almost unbearable.
‘The great King Sampsiceramus would be delighted to meet with you, majesty.’ He then bowed his head to Gallia. ‘And you, highness.’
Gallia turned to Vagises. ‘If they try anything, kill him.’
‘Kings do not “try anything”, my sweet,’ I said, ‘it is considered ill manners.’
‘My father was a king,’ she growled, ‘and he sold his own daughter into slavery. I have little respect for royalty.’
We walked our horses ahead as the king’s chariot edged forward, and from the ranks of the royal guard behind it came the familiar figure of Rasha, who was escorted by a great brute in scale armour, helmet, face veil and carrying a huge double-bladed axe, no doubt to kill her if any mischief was attempted. She trudged disconsolately behind the chariot until she saw Gallia coming towards her mounted upon Epona.
‘Gallia!’ she shouted and raised her arm.
‘Have no fear, Rasha,’ my wife answered back. ‘We are here to take you home.’
The phalanx of guards behind her moved forward slowly to be near their king, while behind me the Amazons and the other horse archers pulled their bows from their cases and edged their horses forward, but in truth the atmosphere was not threatening. My initial impression was that the enemy wished to avoid further bloodshed.
I halted Remus around ten paces from the king’s chariot. He really was an enormous man, with a massive fat neck and a bulbous nose. His eyes were very large and protruded from his fat face so that he resembled one of the goldfish that swam in the royal ponds at Hatra. He seemed to be a rather short man until I realised that he was sitting on a chair to relieve his legs of the great strain in supporting such an enormous weight. Directly behind the chariot were half a dozen slaves, all teenage boys, carrying towels and jugs.
‘Greetings King Pacorus,’ said Sampsiceramus in a slightly quivering voice.
I raised my hand to him. ‘Greetings King Sampsiceramus.’
Gallia removed her helmet and shook her hair free. The king’s eyes bulged even more as he examined my wife.
‘And greetings to you, Queen Gallia,’ he slavered.
I could tell that Gallia was disgusted by his appearance and manner but she played the queen and gave him a dazzling smile and bowed her
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