The Curse of Babylon (64 page)

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Authors: Richard Blake

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: The Curse of Babylon
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Riding behind me, the boys were having another whispered conversation of jokes about nothing I could understand. Suddenly, they stopped moving. It took me a moment to bring my own horse under control. When I turned, they were a dozen yards behind me and listening hard.

Rado slid off his horse and put his ear to the ground. He looked up at me. ‘They’re after us!’ he said. I got off my horse and led it back to where he was still crouching. I looked along the way we’d come. The path shone pale in the moonlight. I could see all the way to the looming blackness of the mountain we’d left far behind. I held my breath and listened. Nothing but the distant howling of wolves carried on the breeze.

Rado shook his head. ‘I can hear them,’ he said.

Eboric nodded. He pointed diagonally from where we’d come. ‘They took the longer path round the mountain,’ he said.

I held my breath again and looked and looked. I looked till spots danced in front of my eyes. Then, just as I was about to turn round and suggest their nerves were overexcited, I saw a very distant glitter. It was the briefest flash of something. I might have put it down to my own nerves or to some trick of the moonlight. But the boys were already taking the horses away from the bright glow of the path.

My heart was beating fast. ‘Do you think they’ve seen us?’ I asked.

‘Hard to say,’ Rado whispered. He looked up at the moon. ‘To be sure, though, we’ll be seen once the dawn is up.’ He jumped back on his horse. ‘We’ll have to risk a canter along the side of the path. If they haven’t seen us yet, they might give up. They are a
very
long way out from base.’

Chapter 63

 

Once more the leadership passed openly to Rado. Without him in front, it was plain I’d have trouble controlling my speed. Away from the path much of the ground was low-grade turf. What wasn’t spongy puddles was mostly flat stones or low clumps of bramble, invisible in the moonlight. Even at this speed, in the dark, there was a risk that one of the horses would stumble. I gave up on any appearance of controlling my horse and let it tag along behind Rado and Eboric. To our right, the path snaked forward into a distance without obvious end. Looking left, there was the darkness of woods. But they must have been miles away – miles across unknown ground.

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.’

We laughed and fell into each other’s arms.

Chapter 64

 

Holding hands, we lay together on the grass. Once more, the sky was the pitiless blue it has in the mountains. Now we’d finished with our lovers’ reunion, we were talking and talking, and still there was more to be said.

‘So, Shahin didn’t kill Timothy?’ I asked, cutting into a narrative that was nearly as disjointed as it was circular.

Antonia sat up and began picking at the few daisies within reach. ‘Simon just about kept the peace,’ she said. ‘But every time he drank from the silver cup, or simply held it to his chest, Shahin seemed to go a little madder. By the time I killed that guard and ran away, he was seeing ghosts every night. The days were worse, of course – he was accusing everyone of wanting to stab him in the back to get the cup for himself. He’d sometimes scream so much, I thought he’d go into fits.’

She stopped and began threading the daisies into a chain. The easiest part of her story to follow was after she’d got away. That was a straight adventure. There was the braining of her guard with a large pebble, followed by a half-hearted chase by men terrified of the dark. After this, she’d wandered through the low hills beyond Mount Larydia, before staggering into a village and raising the local militia. She was lucky that she hadn’t delayed her getaway – much longer and she’d have found herself in districts where the new law wasn’t in force. As it was, she’d pulled rank on everyone and put herself at the head of a small army. The rest you can gather for yourself.

I blinked at the sun until I sneezed twice with great force and lay back happily on the warm grass. ‘You don’t know how far they’ve got along the Larydia Pass?’ I asked.

Still pinching holes in the daisy stems, she shook her head. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that silly thing with the sun,’ she said. ‘It makes your face look mad. Even Daddy laughs at you for it.’ I frowned but said nothing. I waited for her to hold up the long chain and put it about her neck. ‘We’ve been taking a short cut these past few days to try and head them off. Shahin has sixty armed men with him. I now have fifty. It’s not enough for fighting but we can pick them off with arrows. We’ll need to get a move on, though, before he can make contact with the big Persian army you saw.’

I sat up and kissed her. The daisy necklace suited her and I was reminded of how long we’d been apart. ‘I haven’t told you about the cup,’ I began. ‘It was only after you were taken that I discovered it was a gigantic fraud.’ Antonia looked sharply back at me. ‘It was always meant to fall into Shahin’s hands,’ I explained. ‘Within reason, the harder we made his job, the less doubt there would be of its real value.’ I stretched and gathered my thoughts. Best, I decided, to keep away from the details. Best too not to spell out that I’d come all this way for her alone. I knew I was only good at expressing passion when I wasn’t telling the truth. ‘The cup itself is worthless unless you believe in magic,’ I went on. ‘What matters is the alleged listing of military forces on the outside of its box.’ I got up and went over to where my saddlebags had been emptied. I fished about for the side of the box Theodore had left behind. I carried it back.

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