Centurion

They strode up towards the ambassador and halted.

'Centurion Macro and Prefect Cato reporting, sir.'

The ambassador nodded to the seats arranged before the table he was using as a desk.'You look tired, gentlemen. And no wonder, given what you've been through in recent days, and nights.' He smiled at Cato. 'My thanks to you both.The arrival of your column has given the king and his supporters fresh hope. I was very worried that they were about to surrender before you turned up. Now they can see that Rome does not abandon her friends. However…' Sempronius paused and lowered his voice. 'The arrival of Prince Balthus is something of a mixed blessing. He is not the king's favourite son. That honour lies with Prince Artaxes.'

'Artaxes?' Macro looked puzzled. 'The rebel? The one who's thrown his lot in with the Parthians?'

'The same.' Sempronius nodded. 'Vabathus doted on the young scoundrel. He was blind to the prince's faults, and even though word of his treachery had reached the chamberlain's ears some months before the revolt broke out, the king dismissed the reports and refused to act against Artaxes. Even when the rebels rose up against him the king would not believe that Artaxes was behind it. He said that Artaxes was being forced to lead the rebels against his will. Can you imagine?' Sempronius shook his head wearily. 'It appears that some fathers are utterly blind to the faults of their children. Well, that's not entirely true.Vabathus has little regard for his eldest, Amethus. Not that I can blame him. Amethus is a fool. Quite stupid, you understand, and easily persuaded. He spends his life being a passionate advocate of the last thing that anyone says to him.The king may be fond of Amethus, but he has long since given up on him as a worthy successor. Same goes for Prince Balthus. Or did, until the revolt broke out. Now that Prince Artaxes has proved to be a treacherous little snake, the king has been forced to reconsider his choice of successor.' Sempronius leaned a little closer to Macro and Cato. 'What's your impression of Prince Balthus?'

Macro stirred uneasily and resisted the impulse to glance at Cato before he replied. 'He's a damn good fighter, sir. Just the kind of man the king needs at his side at the moment.'

'Well, that's good to hear.' Sempronius eased himself back in his chair.'I haven't met the man yet. From what I'd heard, Balthus was supposedly no more than a drunken rake. A wastrel with no sense of duty. I just hope there's more to him than a good fighter.'

'Oh, there's more to him than that, all right,' Macro responded uneasily. 'The prince has disturbing ambition, sir.'

'How do you mean?'

'He aims to be king after Vabathus. Once Rome persuades Vabathus to abdicate after the revolt is crushed.'

Sempronius chuckled bitterly. 'Taking rather a lot for granted, isn't he?'

This time Macro could not help glancing at Cato before he responded, 'Well, there's something more, sir.'

'Which is?'

'Well, sir, it seems that I made something of a deal with Prince Balthus. In exchange for helping the column make its way through to the citadel, sir.'

'A deal?'

'Yes, sir. I said as how I'd do my best to help him out when we reached here, sir.We needed his help.There was no way we could have got through without Balthus. We owe him our lives.'

'I see.' Sempronius rubbed his face wearily. 'And did it not occur to you that he was in the same predicament as you were?'

'Sir?' Macro frowned and turned to Cato with a questioning expression as the ambassador continued.

'Once the revolt started, our friend Prince Balthus might well have been desperate to join his father, to trade on the old man's vulnerability.The problem was getting through to him. And then you came along, desperate for help, and he sees his chance. He offers you a deal, and you jump at it. What exactly did you promise him, Prefect Cato?'

Cato started guiltily. During the previous exchanges his eyelids had been growing irresistibly heavy and he would have fallen asleep but for the ambassador's sudden shift in attention. Cato swallowed and hurriedly collected his thoughts.

'Sir, we had little choice in the matter, as Centurion Macro has said. Either we cut a deal with the prince or he would have left us stranded in the desert. Or at least-'

'At least that's what he'd have you believe,' Sempronius completed the sentence. 'Dear Gods! So you have pledged your word to help this man become king. Is that it?'

Macro pursed his lips briefly. 'Well, yes, sir. That's about the size of it.'

'Centurion Macro,' Sempronius replied with considerable restraint. 'You are a soldier.What the hell did you think you were doing making any kind of deal with such a man? You're supposed to stick to soldiering. That's what you are paid to do.That's your job. So please, concentrate on fighting your man from the front. Leave it to the diplomats to put the blade in from behind, all right?'

'Yes, sir.'

'And you, Prefect Cato. Did you know about this?'

'Yes, sir. I was there when the deal was made.'

'And you made no attempt to intervene?'

'No, sir. It seemed the best thing to do at the time. Prince Balthus was the only chance we had of finding a way through the enemy's defences.'

'You're as bad as Centurion Macro.'

'Yes, sir,' Cato conceded meekly.

Sempronius ran a hand through his thick grey-streaked hair. 'There's nothing we can do about it now. Best I take this up with the prince later on. In the meantime, you do not play at politics in Palmyra. Is that clear?'

'Yes, sir.' Macro and Cato chorused.

'Then we'd better make our way to the king's audience chamber. He's summoned what's left of his council, and us. When we get there I'd be greatly obliged if you both kept your mouths shut. Let me do the talking. That's an order.'

'Yes, sir.'

Sempronius rose abruptly from his chair. 'Come on, then. I'm keen to see exactly what kind of man we are dealing with in Prince Balthus.'

08 Centurion

CHAPTER TWENTY

The guards closed the doors to the royal audience chamber and a dull boom echoed off the high walls. For a moment then there was a brief silence as the king's chamberlain, Thermon, rose and looked round at the small gathering of Roman officials and Palmyran nobles. King Vabathus had abandoned his earlier melancholy, Cato noticed, and now sat erect and attentive as his chamberlain opened proceedings, speaking in Greek so that all might follow his words.

'The king bids you welcome, and in particular he welcomes the brave commanders of the Roman relief column. The arrival of fresh troops has greatly strengthened the king's position and the news that a Roman army is on its way to crush the rebellion fills his heart with hope. The king is also grateful that Prince Balthus has seen fit to join His Majesty's side in the present conflict. It is hoped that he will have further opportunities to prove himself worthy of his royal lineage in the difficult times to come.'

Cato glanced at Balthus and saw that the prince was sitting quite still with a composed expression as he gently nodded his acknowledgement. To his right sat another Palmyran, in a richly decorated tunic. The man was thin with a weak chin and fine features yet there was no mistaking the family resemblance between him and Balthus. Prince Amethus, Cato realised, studying the man more closely as Thermon spoke. Amethus did not have the same controlled poise as his younger brother and his left foot tapped in a continuous light rhythm as he stared at some point on the ceiling, mouth slightly agape.

'His Majesty has summoned this council to deliberate the options that are open to us, given the current state of the siege. This morning, after the relief column had entered the citadel, we received the usual demand to surrender. Only this time, the rebels have added a warning to our Roman allies. Every Roman citizen and soldier in the citadel is to quit the city by dawn tomorrow or they will be put to death if the citadel is taken.' Thermon paused and looked towards Sempronius who was already pulling his formal toga into shape to rise up and respond, and Cato realised that this part of the meeting had already been prepared for. The ambassador looked steadily round the room until he stared at the king and began to speak in the deliberate, measured ma