Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) Page 31

  Her blue eyes bored into him. ‘Silence! You forget yourself. You may be a hero to the deluded fools outside but in here I am your queen.’

  Surena blushed. ‘Yes, majesty.’

  ‘What would you have me do, Gallia?’ I asked her. ‘Do you wish me to flee this very night like a gutless coward and leave Burebista to face certain death? I will not do it. This is the pledge of the King of Dura. I will leave this city with Burebista and his wife or not at all.’

  Gallia fumed but knew that I would not budge so she said nothing, her face a mask of anger. Domitus relaxed on a daybed and sipped at a cup of wine, indicating that Drenis and Arminius should do the same.

  ‘Besides, if we depart now we will rob the city of seeing more of Surena in the arena,’ said Domitus mischievously.

  Gallia sighed. ‘You are not helping, Domitus.’

  I walked over to her and placed an arm round her waist. ‘Shamash will protect me, my love. Come, let us not argue after such a day. Let us give thanks that we are all still alive.’

  Her hard mask dissolved and she smiled, though her eyes were filled with sadness. We sat down on one of the couches and I beckoned over a slave holding a tray of figs. Another slave entered the room and bowed before Domitus, informing him that the masseurs had arrived.

  A leathery middle-aged man called Argos used oils and his fingers to massage the tightness out of my muscles and relax my whole body. Other lithe, olive-skinned men worked their magic on Surena, Drenis and Arminius. I lay on the couch, the aroma of pine incense lulling me into semi-consciousness as Argos kneaded the muscles in my back and shoulders. Because he believed me to be a slave his conversation was quite informal.

  ‘These are lash scars on your back.’

  I grunted to signify he was correct.

  ‘The life of a slave can be hard and short. But perhaps not as short as that of a gladiator.’

  ‘We must use the skills the gods have given us.’

  ‘Indeed,’ he said. My body felt utterly calm and relaxed. ‘The young one of your school, Surena, has made a name for himself.’

  ‘He has talent, yes.’

  ‘He might cost High Priest Kallias a great deal of money.’

  Kallias was financing the games and as such would compensate any lanista whose gladiators were killed in the arena.

  Argos was clearly in a talkative mood. ‘I suspect the high priest would pay a huge sum if it meant embarrassing the governor and seeing his own gladiators triumphing over those who travelled from Italy.’

  ‘The high priest and governor do not like each other?’ I asked.

  Argos laughed. ‘The governor dislikes Kallias because he has great influence in the city and among the worshippers who flock to the Temple of Artemis, whereas Kallias believes that Ephesus is his city and therefore regards the governor as a foreign upstart.’

  ‘They seemed tolerant of each other’s company,’ I said, thinking back to their behaviour at the games.

  ‘Appearances can be deceptive. For example, the governor would like to seize the criminals seeking sanctuary at the temple and crucify them but if he violates the temple’s rules he knows he may incite a riot. Kallias knows this and basks in the governor’s helplessness.’

  ‘I saw some of those criminals when I visited the temple.’

  ‘Cleon and his band of freedom fighters,’ said Argos derisively.

  ‘You do not approve of a fellow Greek wanting to be free from Roman rule?’

  He pressed his thumbs hard into the tight muscles at the base of my spine.

  ‘Cleon believes he should rule in Ephesus. He has killed many Roman soldiers, or so he boasts, which has earned him the loyalty of a band of like-minded hotheads. Cleon’s notion of freedom is very limited to him and his band of followers.’

  ‘Then why doesn’t Kallias evict them from the temple grounds?’ I asked.

  ‘Because it suits Kallias to keep Cleon at the temple as a visible reminder that the Roman governor of Ephesus is not all powerful. It is all very childlike.’

  ‘I can imagine Cleon’s presence at the temple irritates the Romans,’ I remarked, ‘especially if he has killed their soldiers. They are a very unforgiving race.’

  ‘I have been a slave for a long time,’ he reflected, ‘and during that time I have had numerous masters, both Roman and Greek. I have found very little difference between them.’

  He said nothing for a few moments as he picked up my left arm and began rubbing oil into it.

  ‘Your body has seen much hard usage,’ he said at length.

  ‘Fighting takes a heavy toll on a person.’

  ‘Massage, good eating habits, exercise, rest, fresh air and music will rejuvenate your body,’ he told me.

  ‘I will try to take your advice.’

  Relaxed and refreshed, I sat with the others in the courtyard after we had eaten an evening meal of bread, cheese, figs and fish, all washed down with wine. A flustered legionary reported to Domitus that most of the crowd had dispersed but there were a still a few die-hard fans of Surena near the entrance.

  ‘I can threaten to arrest them, lanista,’ he said to Domitus, ‘if you so wish.’

  ‘Are they likely to cause any trouble?’

  The legionary shook his head. ‘They are mostly young women who want to get a look at your gladiator, lanista.’

  He nodded at Surena who smiled back at him.

  ‘Surena,’ ordered Domitus. ‘Go with this legionary and tell your adoring fans that they must return to their homes, otherwise they will be arrested for disturbing my sleep.’

  For the first time that day Surena looked uncertain. ‘They might mob me. Viper would not approve.’

  Gallia rolled her eyes.

  Domitus looked at the legionary. ‘I’m sure this soldier and his fine companions will be able to hold back a gang of girls. Now go!’

  ‘That fat bastard editor has the knives out for Surena,’ I said after he and the legionary had departed. ‘I worry for him.’

  ‘Surena needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut and his eyes down,’ said Arminius.

  Gallia ate a wafer dipped in honey. ‘Surena needs to be taught a lesson in humility. He is far too arrogant.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about Surena,’ Domitus told us, ‘the gods love him and won’t let anything happen to him.’

  I was not so sure but had no time to debate the matter further because Lysander arrived in the company of Athineos. The latter was dressed in a fine blue tunic, baggy white leggings and had small blue ribbons tied in his beard and gold earrings dangled from his ears. The editor had obviously paid him for his lions. Domitus thanked Lysander and said he could leave us, asking Athineos to take a seat. The big Cretan winked at Gallia and flopped onto a couch as a slave offered him wine, which he gladly accepted.

  ‘Your Greek slave told me you wanted to see me,’ he said to me. ‘Are you ready to leave?’

  ‘Not quite, Athineos,’ I answered. ‘I have a proposal for you.’

  He drained the cup and placed it on the table beside him. ‘Always open to a business proposition.’

  ‘I want you to go the Ludus Capua this very evening,’ I said, ‘and say that you come with an anonymous offer to purchase the gladiator Burebista and his wife Anca.’

  ‘What is the size of the offer?’ enquired Athineos, looking at a slave and pointing to his empty cup.

  ‘The lanista can name his price,’ I said. ‘Tell him that.’

  Domitus looked bemused. ‘Are you mad? He will demand an exorbitant price.’

  I smiled at my general. ‘I know that but his greed will make him unable to resist such an offer.’

  I looked at Athineos. ‘And tell the lanista that if he is interested then Burebista can take no further part in these games.’

  A slave filled Athineos’ cup. ‘He will want proof that the offer is genuine. Hard currency, that is.’

  ‘He will have it,’ I said.

  ‘There is also the question of my comm
ission.’

  ‘You will be paid well for your services, Athineos, but you must ensure that you make contact with the lanista, whose name escapes me.

  ‘Lentulus Vatia,’ sneered Gallia.

  I thanked my wife. ‘Yes, that’s him. Ensure you speak to him tonight.’

  I gave him a small gold bar with the emblem of a griffin carved on it, one of several I had brought with me from Dura. The advantage of having the house guarded at all times by Roman soldiers was that it was secure, and the money and gold we had brought from Dura was safe in a locked, windowless storeroom. Every slave in the house knew that if any of the money went missing they would forfeit their lives. I thought of Rsan and smiled. The trip to Ephesus was threatening to become more expensive than a military campaign.

  Chapter 10

  The next day the crowd of Surena’s well-wishers re-assembled outside the house as we were escorted once more to the agora. It was going to be a beautiful sunny day, the blue sky containing only a few small white clouds. There was a slight breeze blowing off the sea that made the air fresh. Argos had certainly worked his magic on my body because I felt invigorated and my senses seemed heightened. Domitus and Gallia left us at the agora to take their seats in the arena, my wife wrapped in her shemagh and Agraci robe and looking distinctly unhappy. Her mood was made worse by not being able to embrace me before she left, though I had assured her earlier when we had been alone in our bedroom that I would take care of myself.

  ‘Today will be harder,’ said Arminius grimly as we walked to the Great Theatre, the acrobats and musicians in the vanguard of the procession of gladiators.

  ‘Harder, how?’

  ‘Yesterday’s free-for-all might have been mildly alarming and a surprise, but we were fighting men who were ill armed and half dead. Today there will be matched pairs so watch yourself.’

  ‘I think I can handle myself,’ I told him.

  He pointed at Surena a few paces ahead milking the applause of the crowd.

  ‘Reckless, self-obsessed and believes himself invincible. He was born to fight in the arena. That said, it was stupid of him to insult the editor the way he did.’ He turned to me.

  ‘Whereas you are more thoughtful, more measured, as a king should be. But in the arena those traits put you at a disadvantage. So I say again, watch yourself because we will not be able to watch your back.’

  ‘And you, Arminius?’

  ‘I don’t mind where I do my killing. Either in the area or on the battlefield, it makes no difference.’

  There was a great throng around the theatre when the procession finally arrived at the rear of the stage building. Once more we walked through the area of cages filled with wild animals, though I noticed that some were now empty following the animal hunts of the previous day. I sniffed the air and detected the aroma of blood. An aura of death now hung over the theatre.

  Inside the stage building we filed up the stone steps on the ground floor as the beast hunters checked their weapons and equipment. In Parthia all kings, princes and lords hunted, learning to kill beasts from the saddle from an early age. But this was not hunting. Releasing wild animals into a fenced-off area from which they could not escape and then sending in men to butcher them was not sport. It was a slaughterhouse, nothing more, nothing less. I understood why gladiators had a low opinion of beast hunters.

  The cots on the first floor were empty, the previous occupants having been taken to the accommodation of their respective ludi, either that or the nearby gladiators’ cemetery that had been established by the Roman authorities. The room had been cleaned and washed and pine incense burned to mask the nauseous aroma of blood and guts. How many of those who were now ambling up the steps to the second floor would end up in the infirmary today? I asked Shamash silently that He would save my comrades from such a fate, or worse.

  ‘You got lucky yesterday, boy. Today you will not be so lucky.’

  I saw the imposing frame of Acco standing before Surena, trying to intimidate him with his wild eyes.

  Surena looked at the big Gaul. ‘Don’t you want to rest after climbing the steps, old man, so you can get your breath back?’

  Some of the other gladiators laughed at this retort, which made Acco angrier. He jabbed Surena in the chest.

  ‘I’m going to order the organisers to arrange a fight between me and you today, boy, so I can shove that trident of yours up your arse.’

  Surena stepped back. ‘Why don’t you try it now?’

  There was a shrill blast of a whistle and an official was standing between the pair. Legionaries appeared at the doors to the room in answer to the whistle.

  ‘No fighting here,’ ordered the official. ‘Any violence will incur the severest penalties.’

  I pulled Surena away. ‘Save it for the arena.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Acco said to me. ‘Have I threatened your lover? Perhaps you would like to fight me to defend your bed warmer.’

  ‘Talk is cheap, Gaul,’ was all I could think of as a reply.

  Acco growled at the official, blew a kiss at the three legionaries who had their hands on the hilts of their swords and then drifted over to one of the windows overlooking the arena.

  ‘Hopefully I will be matched against that oversized loud mouth,’ said Surena loudly in an attempt to gain Acco’s attention.

  ‘Be quiet,’ I ordered.

  We went to sit with Drenis and Arminius, other gladiators taking their places with other members of their schools. Either that or wandering over to the windows to see the commencement of the animal hunts.

  ‘While you two were indulging in idle gossip with the Gaul,’ said Drenis, ‘I was speaking to one of the lads from Capua. You may be interested to know that Burebista is not present today. Apparently his lanista has confined him to barracks for reasons unknown.’

  I clenched a fist. ‘Lentulus Vatia has taken the bait.’

  ‘That pirate must have turned his head with promises of great wealth,’ said Arminius. ‘Let us hope that Dura has enough gold to satisfy his greed.’

  There was a great cheer from those staring out of the windows, closely followed by a multitude of screams and cries.

  ‘The lions are free,’ shouted one of the gladiators.

  I thought of Domitus and Gallia in the crowd and felt fear grip me. I jumped up and ran to the nearest window followed by the others. I looked down and horror embraced me. The theatre did not provide spectators with the same level of protection as amphitheatres because the first rows of seats were dangerously close to the arena. The organisers of the games had seemingly resolved this by seating legionaries in the first row of seats, the soldiers sitting behind a line of nets and posts to prevent the animals from escaping the arena. But they had underestimated the size and power of lions.

  Too many of the beasts had been released into the arena, at least thirty, and though the hunters had killed ten the others, some wounded, pounced on their tormenters. There was a series of gut-wrenching screams as the animal hunters became the hunted, lions ripping out their throats and crushing their skulls in their jaws. The crowd would have been in ecstasy at seeing such a spectacle were it not for the fact that half a dozen other lions had jumped at and torn down the netting.

  The gladiators were in fits of laughter as the crowd began fleeing their seats as one, two and more lions sprang from the arena into the seats. The legionaries in the front row were the first to flee, abandoning their shields before turning tail and clambering over seats and other spectators to save themselves. Many spectators were trampled underfoot as maddened lions sprang onto the backs of panicking civilians, clasping their jaws on the backs of their throats. It was chaos as soldiers hurriedly ushered the governor, the high priest and their entourages away. All attempted to escape from the danger.

  All save two.

  A line of lions were stalking their fleeing human prey, making their way upwards towards two solitary figures standing on a row of empty seats. One was casting off her black robes and
tossing her shemagh to one side. Her blonde locks hung free around her shoulders as she plucked a silver arrow from the quiver slung on her back and nocked it in the bowstring. Beside my wife Domitus also threw off his cloak and drew his concealed gladius.

  Gallia shot fast and accurately, her missiles striking each lion in turn. She had hit and felled three before she started to walk forward, stepping on seats in front methodically as she kept on shooting. Another lion was hit and wounded, another was killed and still Gallia kept on advancing, walking towards the snarling, angry collection of jaws, teeth and claws.

  The gladiators were leaning out of the windows and cheering wildly now as Gallia put an arrow into a lion that was mauling a hunter, the missile going through its eye socket and killing it instantly. A large beast with a wild mane charged, leaping over seats to get at her. She shot an arrow that struck its chest but only momentarily halted its attack. It roared in pain and rage and leaped forward again and my heart was in my mouth. In a flash she had pulled an arrow from her quiver, nocked it and shot it into the lion’s chest. It dropped but three feet in front of her but was not dead. With a supreme effort it lifted itself up to claw the blonde-haired devil that was so close. Domitus ran forward and stabbed the point of his sword under its jaws, stabbing again and again into its throat. Gallia stepped around it as she continued shooting at the lions in the arena. More hunters now came from the doors to finish off the remaining beasts and save their wounded comrades.

  I was shouting and cheering as they killed the last lion and then looked at the woman with the bow who had now stopped shooting. They heard the cheers from the gladiators above and peered in amazement at the beauty that looked as though she had just finished a leisurely stroll and they too cheered. The theatre had never seen such a drama. Ephesus had never seen such a thing. Its citizens had been in danger and Artemis herself had sent them a deliverer. For what other explanation could there be for the sudden appearance of a fair-haired woman armed with a bow that shot silver arrows?

  A hundred people had been killed in the crush as the crowd tried to flee the theatre and a further two hundred were injured. The governor and his younger subordinate returned to the theatre with two centuries of legionaries and a detachment of archers. To find Gallia and Domitus sitting calmly in seats near the red awning. Soon afterwards High Priest Kallias returned, also accompanied by soldiers, in his case a hundred temple guards. Already slaves were carrying the bodies of the dead from the theatre and others were desperately trying to wash those seats that had been splattered with blood. I noticed that the corpulent Timini Ceukianus was conspicuous by his absence.