Collecting his men together again, the First Prophet slowly approached the base of the waterfall. The moon had set, and he could see nothing. He himself had never been to the cave. In fact, he had never dared to set foot on the sacred mountain. He commanded four of his men to ascend the slope. Hesitating only slightly at the order, the men dismounted and began to climb. Touching the mountain was forbidden, and so the four men would have to be put to death once they returned to the monastery, regardless of the fact that they were following orders. The First Prophet knew this all too well, but also knew that he had little choice. If their lives were not meant to be expendable for such a time as this, when the sacred amulet was in danger of desecration, then what were they for?
The First Prophet watched as his men climbed up into the blackness, their black robes swallowed by the night. He waited and listened, but he heard nothing. The cascading waterfall drowned out any other noises. A few of the men remaining with him began to look nervous, and the First Prophet was considering sending them up as well, when a man’s scream suddenly cried out in the night, followed by silence. Straining his eyes to see what he could, he saw shadows on the ledge above, and then heard the tumble of large rocks, as if boulders were rolling down the slope. But it was not rocks that came out of the darkness and rolled to a stop at the feet of the camels. The First Prophet leaned down and held his torch near the objects, and was met with the gnarled stares, and terror-filled faces of the four men he had sent up. Four severed, black-turbaned heads lay in the weeds.
Shouting in alarm, the First Prophet ordered his remaining men to ready their bows for sending a swarm of arrows up against the mountain slope in the hopes of hitting something. But before they could launch their own fusillade, a streaking missile came out of the night, striking one man through the face, the bloody arrow-tip protruding from his lower jaw. The wounded man panicked, reeling on his mount as he abandoned his bow and groped at the wound. Then another arrow suddenly appeared firmly lodged in the thigh of the next man, prompting a scream of agony.
Knowing that he was beaten, the First Prophet ordered his men back. There was nothing more they could do now with their scant numbers. He ordered his men to fall back until they were out of range of the hidden archer. They gathered up the infidels’ camels, as well as the mounts of their dead comrades, and rode away from the oasis as fast as their beasts would carry them, headed back to the monastery with the devastating news, that the sacred Eye of Horus had now been desecrated by interlopers.
The First Prophet did not look back. Dawn was coming soon, and with it would come retribution against the offenders. The infidels could not get far on foot. He would return to the monastery and summon the entire contingent of watchers. The infidels would pay for their sacrilege. They would be cleansed through pain and suffering, and then die on the stake as those who had come before them.
X
There was no way in Hades that the three thieves, temporarily comrades again, would make it across the barren desert without camels. They knew this, but they marched on anyway, one sandaled foot after another through the hot sand.
It was approaching midday, and the mountains at the source of their footprints still seemed close. The three were spread out across the dune, according to their stamina and the lives they had led before. Lucius, a seasoned infantryman who had marched countless miles across a dozen different lands, was far out front. Next came Demetrius, whose legs were more accustomed to standing hours on end for palace ceremonies. Far behind him, came the eunuch, who had seldom ventured outside of the plush quarters afforded him by the Egyptian royals who used him for his administrative talents, not for his physical traits. He stumbled along, kicking up sand as he trudged.
“Do not leave me, Captain!” Ganymedes called as he awkwardly used a rough walking stick that he had fashioned from a fallen limb in the oasis to help him negotiate the sand.
“Move faster, you fool!” Demetrius shouted back to him.
All three assumed that the men who had come to the oasis last night would return, and now their only hope lay with finding Demetrius’s troops, who should be close by – assuming they had found the markers left by their captain. Ganymedes had argued against the logic of leaving the cave, but the two soldiers finally convinced him that, should the Watchers return with more numbers, the cave would become a death trap. Without the cover of darkness, their attackers could easily see them on the ledge and keep their heads down with a hail of arrows while others climbed to overtake them. Certainly, there was also risk in a trek across the open desert, where they would have no advantage against camel mounted riders. But, if they found Demetrius’s men, the odds might turn in their favor. So, they marched across the scorching sand, their waterskins sloshing on their backs, the portly eunuch complaining with every step, and now cursing the royal guard for not keeping closer on their trail. Lucius thought of running the bastard through on many occasions, if only to silence his incessant complaints.
But, thankfully, there was an end to the griping.
Out of the midday haze, a long train of camels appeared, their riders wearing the white tunics of the royal guard. Demetrius’s men had been well-trained, and well-instructed.
“I never thought I would be so pleased with your disobedience, Captain,” Ganymedes said in relief, wiping the sweat from his sun-reddened brow.
It took nearly an hour to get the column’s attention, waving them down by streaming an unraveled turban from Ganymedes’s staff. Eventually, the lumbering line of beasts snaked toward them.
“You have done well, Captain,” Ganymedes said, assuming an amiable yet authoritative tone as the column drew closer. “I will certainly see to it that you are rewarded handsomely. I’m sure I can convince the queen to reserve a position for you commanding our armies in the field, or perhaps you would prefer something more prestigious? How does Lord of Horse sound?”
Demetrius was not impressed with the offer. He eyed the eunuch disdainfully. “Do not insult my intelligence, Ganymedes! You are fortunate not to be impaled on my sword right now. My oath to the queen is the only thing that prevents me from permanently stilling that lying tongue of yours. She commanded me to protect you. That is the only reason you still draw breath. Be thankful for it!”
Ganymedes’s smile faded into an icy stare. “Yes, that is right, Captain. You must protect me. The queen knows and appreciates my worth. And you would do well never to forget it.” Ganymedes then cast a disparaging look at Lucius who was not hiding his amusement at the interchange. “And now that we have found your men, Captain Demetrius, we no longer require the sword of this Roman dog. I order you to slay him at once, that we may retrieve the Eye.”
Lucius smiled gamily, resting a hand on the hilt of his sheathed gladius. He was amazed at the eunuch’s perpetual scheming. Of course Ganymedes wished to spark a confrontation between the two warriors before the column reached them. No doubt, while Lucius and Demetrius struggled to kill each other, the eunuch would run as fast as his stubby legs would carry him to the protection of the approaching troops. If Demetrius won the fight, the eunuch would be rid of Lucius and none the worse for it. Better yet, if Lucius slew Demetrius, Ganymedes would be in a fine position indeed. His chief protagonist in Arsinoe’s circle would have been eliminated. He would then simply order the Egyptian troops to kill Lucius, wrapping up all of the loose ends rather nicely. Ganymedes would retrieve the Eye and return to Alexandria as the sole benefactor of the queen’s good wishes – or use the amulet to forward his own personal ambitions.
But Demetrius foiled this entire scheme when he did not make any moves to carry out Ganymedes’s order. Either he was wise to the eunuch’s designs, or he questioned his own ability to defeat Lucius. Demetrius exchanged quick glances with Lucius, and then tossed his sword at Ganymedes’s feet.
“Kill him yourself, if you are so eager to have it done,” Demetrius sneered.
Ganymedes looked frightfully at the sword in the sand, and then up at a grinning Lucius. The
eunuch swallowed once before speaking again. “But…but I have given you an order, Captain! The queen commands – “
“The queen commands me to protect you,” Demetrius replied, “and that I have done! And I will continue to protect you while you travel back to Alexandria to answer for the crimes this Roman claims you are guilty of. You have plotted a betrayal of your sovereign and your people, and you shall live to face the queen’s justice. That, I swear!”
“Really, Captain? You surprise me with your stupidity. The queen would never take the word of this Roman dog over mine.”
Demetrius checked himself while digesting the truth of that statement. “Perhaps you are right. But if that is true, and the queen values your word so highly, then certainly she will see to it that oaths made in her presence are fulfilled. And I intend to remind her of those oaths.”
“What in Set’s name are you talking about now?”
Demetrius grinned. “A promise was made before the queen, that you would pay this Roman’s bounty from your own purse.”
“I never intended to pay him,” Ganymedes replied incredulously. “I’m sure the queen understands that.”
“You will pay him! He has performed his commissioned work, and I will not let him turn the Eye over to anyone until you, eunuch, have paid every last drachma!”
Lucius chuckled at Ganymedes’s dumbfounded expression. “Well, it looks like the queen has at least one honest subject. Fortunate for me that he commands those troops.” Lucius gestured to the approaching column. “Looks like you’re out of luck, Chancellor.”
As the column drew nearer, a team of camels broke away from the main body and rode ahead to meet the three men.
“We shall see about payments, indeed!” Ganymedes cursed as the riders drew near. “There will be none! I will see to it, Roman, that your head is catapulted over the palace walls. If you are not careful, Captain, I might have yours sent over with it. You had best try to appease me if you wish to remain in the queen’s good graces! Remember that I alone have the ear of the queen!”
“Who speaks of the queen!” demanded a voice that came from the camel riders as they brought their plodding mounts to a halt. It was not the voice of a man, but that of a woman. The tall beasts shaded the three men from the sun, the bridle bells swaying near their faces. Lucius saw that one camel was different from the others. It bore a saddle of fine leather decorated with jewels, and its rider wore a trailing purple cape of fine silk. The well-dressed rider removed a thick scarf to reveal her face.
“All hail Queen Arsinoe, Protector of the Two Lands, Goddess of…” one of the other riders began to drone. This was one of the giant black bodyguards Lucius had seen in the queen’s house. The other bodyguard was nearby, too, and both had their immense flat-bladed swords sheathed on their saddles beneath muscled legs. One of them leapt from his mount, took the queen’s camel by the bridle, and forced the animal down on its knees to allow the queen to dismount. She descended from the beast as if she floated on air. When she stood, the stiff desert breeze plastered her silky, purple robe to every perfect curve of her figure. Although she had removed the riding scarf, a veil still covered her nose and mouth, but it was sheer enough to afford a glimpse at the small smile she wore underneath.
Once they had bowed to greet their queen, and were allowed to rise, Ganymedes instantly began to scold Demetrius, obviously for the queen’s benefit. “You did not tell me Her Magnificence was coming. How dare you take such careless chances with Her Majesty’s safety?” Then turning to Arsinoe in a coddling tone, he said, “Oh, Great One, are you injured in any way? I am sure the hot sun has fatigued Your Magnificence. I will see to it that Captain Demetrius is removed from his –”
“Be still, Ganymedes!” Arsinoe snapped. “Demetrius knew nothing about it. I came of my own fruition.”
Arsinoe then walked around the three men, looking each one up and down, all the while followed by the bodyguard holding a shade above her head. She cast a lingering eye at Lucius, and he did not miss the alluring glance that told him she had not forgotten about that night.
“Where is it, Ganymedes?” she finally demanded.
“The Roman has it, Great One. He refuses to hand it over. He should be slain at – “
Ganymedes was cut off by her raised hand.
Facing Lucius now, Arsinoe’s eyes looked at him over the veil with a seductive, almost hungry expression. Evidently the amulet of power was not the only thing on her mind. Finally, she held out a small manicured hand and said simply. “Give it to me.”
Not quite understanding what made him obey so readily, Lucius removed the amulet from his pouch and placed it in her hand. At the sight of the fabled object, Demetrius, Ganymedes, and even Arsinoe gasped with eyes wide. Now, as the realization set in that the object was not just a myth, and that it actually was in their possession, a wave of exultation seemed to come over them.
“We have it!” Ganymedes salivated, breathing heavily and never taking his eyes from the amulet. “We have it! It is ours!”
“It is mine!” Arsinoe snapped with a scowl, closing her fingers around it.
Ganymedes swallowed hard and nodded. “Of course, Great One. And what of this Roman? Shall we sacrifice him here and now in your honor?”
Arsinoe tore her eyes away from the jeweled object long enough to cast an amused glance at Lucius. “No. The Roman pleases us.”
Demetrius cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Great Lady, but I believe my lord Ganymedes offered a handsome reward to this Roman in the sum of two thousand sesterces.”
Arsinoe smiled. “Then he shall have it.”
Ganymedes nearly choked before uttering, “Yes, Great One. I shall see that it is done.”
XI
It took nearly an hour for the entire strung out column to arrive. On Demetrius’s orders, they made camp. Tents were thrown up and camels picketed. Fires were lit and provisions roasted. The queen had brought with her a contingent of house slaves, along with royal tents and a gratuitous amount of perfumes, bath oils, and plenty of extra water for her nightly baths. By nightfall, a small tent city sat upon the summit of a large dune, the torches burning brilliantly beneath a moonless sky.
Lucius ate with the other officers and was generally treated well by these men whom he had fought in Alexandria only weeks before. Ganymedes disappeared into the queen’s sector of the camp, no doubt to ply her with tales of her greatness and how much greater she could be if only she followed his advice.
At the changing of the night watch, the troops began to bed down. In the morning, they would begin the long, two-week trek back to Alexandria. They would start early, before sunup, when they could use the stars to start them in the right direction. They would march until noon each day and then stop to rest during the hot afternoons.
As courteous as the Alexandrian officers had been, they were still too distrustful of the Roman to share their tents with him. Lucius was given a small tent to himself, along with adequate bedding that was far superior to the dusty bedroll that the Watchers had trampled to shreds. It was actually comfortable. The royal guard travelled extravagantly, much different from a Roman legion.
As a centurion, Lucius could not help but cringe at the lack of adequate fortification, something that was routine to the greenest of Roman legions. The Alexandrians had at least chosen to camp on the crest of a wide, round hill, and that was something. However, instead of constructing a proper corral for the camels, the mounts had been picketed in a convenient depression some distance away. As much as he wished to, Lucius could not interfere in the Alexandrian’s camp routine. They were not his men, though he suspected a few of the older ones had been in Pompey’s legions when the late general was setting up puppet states for Rome in the East. Having lived in Egypt for nearly two decades, these men could no longer be called Romans. They wore the headdress and bronze scale armor of the Egyptian royal guard and had adopted the sloppy methods of eastern soldiers, who were either too arrogant or too lazy to fortify th
eir camp each night.
Lucius suspected it would be a vain endeavor, but he could not help but pull Demetrius aside before retiring for the night.
“It would be wise to double the guard this night, Captain,” Lucius suggested.
“I think you overestimate these desert tribesmen, Centurion,” Demetrius replied dismissively.
“Still no sign of them?”
The captain shook his head. “Not a thing. But let them come. I have a hundred royal guard spears, and a score of Nubian archers. More than a match for a few camel warriors. You saw how easily they ran last night.”
Lucius nodded, though he did not share in the captain’s appraisal of their adversary. Before retiring, there was something else he felt compelled to say.
“My thanks to you, Demetrius, for what you did earlier. That eunuch would prefer me dead.” Lucius paused, and then added with a smile. “Besides, I did not want to have to kill you.”
“He would prefer us both dead, I think,” Demetrius replied, glancing at the flourished royal tents whipping in the gentle breeze. “There is no telling what lies he is feeding the queen at this very moment. He pours accolades upon her and fills her with dreams of glory, but he would just as soon slit her throat in the night and make off with the Eye.”
“Good thing she brought those giants along.”
“They are but men.” Demetrius said uncertainly. “And all men can be bribed.”
“All but you?” Lucius said chidingly.
Demetrius smiled. “Yes, when it comes to Arsinoe. Call it one man’s delusion, but I have faith in her. I believe that she can be the queen that I and so many others want her to be.”
“Is that all?”
Demetrius eyed him. “There is nothing else, Centurion. I have served her house my whole life. Duty is inbred in me, not ambition – or lust.”
Rome: Sword of the Legion (Sword of the Legion Series) Page 9
