Centurion

As the mercenaries closed in on him Balthus gritted his teeth and looked round like a cornered animal. His hand dropped to the handle of his sword and he swiftly drew the blade with a quick rasp and pointed it towards the nearest of the bodyguards.

'Another step towards me and I'll gut you.'

'Put that sword down!' Vabathus ordered. 'You ca

For a moment Balthus stared defiantly at his father, and then took a deep breath and lowered his head. The tension eased for an instant and the guards paused a moment before continuing their approach towards the prince. At that moment Balthus sprang towards Carpex and his blade glittered through the air. Even as the slave let out a terrified cry the sword cut through the bony hand he had flung up to protect himself.The finely honed edge sliced through the arm and continued on through the slave's throat and buried itself in his spine, silencing the cry. Blood spurted across the floor of the audience chamber as Carpex fell back, his head almost severed. Balthus watched with a look of contempt as the body trembled a moment and then lay still. Then he threw his sword down and made no effort to resist as the bodyguards seized him and pi

'Get him out of here,' Thermon ordered, then turned to some more men and pointed to the slave's body. 'And remove that.'

Balthus was dragged from the chamber under the eyes of the Roman officers and the Palmyran nobles. Once he had gone, Vabathus' shoulders drooped wearily and he stepped down from the dais.

'Thermon, I am returning to my quarters. See to it that I am not disturbed.'

The chamberlain glanced awkwardly at Longinus and the Roman officers. 'But,Your Majesty, the celebrations… the banquet tonight.'

'Celebrations?'Vabathus shook his head. 'What have I to celebrate?'

He was still for a moment, then continued. 'But you are right.The celebrations must go ahead.They will not be spoiled by the absence of a grieving old man. See to it,Thermon.'

He turned and made his way to the small rear entrance to the audience chamber. The nobles bowed their heads as he passed, but Vabathus ignored them, staring down at the floor as he walked through them, disappeared through the small doorway and left them standing in silence.

Long shadows were stretching across the palace courtyard as Macro stood stiffly to attention in front of General Longinus and the Roman ambassador. The two senators were sitting at a small table drinking lemon-scented water. Behind them a slave wafted air over them with a large fan made from woven palm leaves.

Longinus lowered his cup and cleared his throat. 'So then, Centurion Macro, what is it that you want to say to us?'

'Sir, it isn't right. This business with Balthus. The man saved my neck, and those of every man in the relief column. He fought alongside us in the citadel, and that battle with the Parthians. He's a brave man,' Macro concluded with a firm nod. 'It'd be wrong to let him be killed like a dog. It ain't right, sir.'

General Longinus pursed his lips for a moment, as if in thought. 'I see. And I agree, we owe him a debt of gratitude. Under any other circumstances there would be no question of letting him go to his death like this.'

Macro felt a leaden fatalism settle on his heart at the general's words. 'What do you mean, sir? Under any other circumstances?'

Sempronius leaned forward. 'If I might explain the situation to our friend here?'

Longinus waved a hand dismissively. 'Be my guest.'

The ambassador looked at Macro and smiled sadly. 'I've no doubt that what you say about the prince is true.'

'Then why must he die?' Macro cut in stubbornly.

'Political necessity, that's why. Rome needs to make Palmyra a client kingdom. We must have that treaty, and so must Vabathus.There is no place in the new arrangement for Balthus. He ca

Macro felt a wave of bitterness welling up inside him and it took a great deal of self-control to bite back on his anger. He looked at the two men with contempt. 'Political necessity, you say. That's a fine euphemism, sir. From where I'm standing, it just looks like murder.'

Longinus set his cup down violently.'Now just a minute, Centurion! I've had enough of your impertinence. I've a good mind to-'

'Macro's right,' Sempronius interrupted. 'Strip away the weasel words and it's murder, plain and simple. There's no hiding that. But it changes nothing, Centurion. For the good of all, Balthus must be disposed of…'The ambassador smiled self-deprecatingly. 'He must be killed. There is no alternative. Do you understand?'

'Yes.'

'Good. Then there's one last thing.' Sempronius reached inside the bag that rested on the ground beside his stool and pulled out a folded document bearing the imperial seal. 'The imperial courier brought this with the other dispatches yesterday. It's addressed to you and Cato.'

Macro took the letter and glanced at the words under the seal. 'From Narcissus, Imperial Secretary. Bound to be bad news.'

Sempronius chuckled and after a moment Macro joined in. 'Well, I'd better read it through and find Cato.'

'Yes.' Sempronius nodded, and then smiled at some private amusement. 'I imagine you will find that remarkable young man in the king's gardens.'

'Cato! Cato! Where are you?'

Macro strode through the garden courtyards, looking round the potted shrubs and trees that were arranged around ornate colo

'Cato, where are you, damn it?'

A figure rose up from a stone bench and waved to attract Macro's attention in the failing light. 'Over here.'

'Ah! At bloody last!' Macro strode towards his friend, and drew the opened letter from Narcissus from inside his harness. 'News from Rome! Great news.'

As Macro approached the bench he saw another person sitting just beyond Cato and drew up awkwardly as he realised who it was. 'Miss Julia, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything.'

'Oh, that's all right.' She beamed at him.'We've said what needed saying. Don't mind me.'

'Fair enough.' Macro turned to Cato and thrust the letter at him. 'Read that.'

'Can't it wait?' Cato replied, then cocked his head slightly to one side as he caught sight of the girl behind his friend. 'Who is this?'

Macro glanced round, and waved her forward. Jesmiah stepped up to join the others shyly. Macro placed his hand on her shoulder as he explained. 'This is Jesmiah. She and her baby brother were with us in the citadel.'

The full implication of his words was not lost on Cato, who shifted uneasily as he recalled the harsh ma

Macro continued. 'Her family died in the revolt, and her brother followed them yesterday. He was no more than an infant and very ill during the siege. Now Jesmiah has no one to look out for her. So, I was wondering…'Macro fixed his gaze on Julia. 'A young Roman lady is always in need of good servants and companions, from what I've heard.'