A Roman Fox
A Roman Fox
Prologue
I am Miles, an agent of Rome, and I am the world’s first master spy. My adventures are many, so I have kept the story as brief as possible. Many may know something of the historical events of this tale; these are my rather pivotal contributions from behind the scenes. Oh, and as no doubt the master spies who follow my example will say, "Absolutely none of the events that I am about to relate ever happened."
Chapter I
A figure stood alone under the stars. He observed the campfires beneath him. The Parthians were master soldiers and expert horsemen. Their camp could repel any attacker and their checkpoints were cleverly sited. Good enough to stop the average spy, but not an agent of Rome. The dark figure moved through the shadows of the camp like a fish in water, pausing here, darting there and leaving no trace. Finally, at the General’s tent, a flap slowly loosened and the agent stole through. Many officers were clustered around their warlord’s table, as a voice with a slight Latin accent startled them.
"Bugy, the stench of the Egyptians grows near."
The officers groped for their swords, but King Bugiya raised his hand to stop them. The figure moved out of the shadows and a voice spoke from behind an arrogant grin, "I mean, Mighty One, the enemy approaches!"
Pointing to the officers assembled, the king replied, "My Armenian, Pontic and Seleucid allies send me armies of cavalry, but all that my Roman ally sends me is a thief."
Bowing low to the king, the figure rose and introduced himself to the officers, slowly stressing the Latin pronunciation of his name, "I am 'Meelays'…Agent Miles." Pulling a scroll from his robe, he placed it firmly on the table. "Can your trusty…newly conquered… allies tell you the strength of the Egyptian army that camps nearby?"
Bugiya frowned, "You mean the army that besieges Palmyra?"
Helping himself to a goblet of wine, Miles feigned surprise. "No, I mean that the army that was at Palmyra is now on the other side of the hills to the south. But you needn’t worry, your Roman agent slew their Egyptian ‘thief’ before he could report to their camp."
Bugiya seemed unconvinced. He unfurled the scroll and studied it in detail as Miles drained his goblet. "What does this mark mean in the center of their camp?"
Miles wiped his lips and flashed his green eyes as he said, "That, Mighty One is not the desert tent of a minor General. It is the great pavilion of an Egyptian Pharaoh!"
The king’s eyes widened, "You know this for a fact?"
Miles smiled, "Yes, he has a better vintage of wine than you do."
The king began to grin. "You must teach your skills to my…agents."
Miles replied shrewdly, "We have a saying in Rome. ‘The very wise should not spread too much wisdom’."
The next day, Bugiya rode in front of his army and their cheers filled the morning air like the roar of lions. "The greatest gift that Zoroaster has bestowed upon me is to lead you, my brothers, into this battle. The Egyptians believe that their future is determined on the day that they are born. I believe that our future is determined on the day that our enemy…dies."
Thanks to the information that Agent Miles had brought, the battle was less like a conflict and more like performing a piece of music that had already been practiced. Watching from a hilltop, Miles turned to his escort and remarked, "Your king is not only a great ruler, but also a great warrior. I no longer need your services. Go and tell him that Rome is pleased with this victory over our common enemy. May your king’s rule be long!" The escort rode away as Miles thought to himself, "As long as he remains an ally of Rome."
Skirting the battle, Miles rode to the Egyptian camp. Disorder ruled, as all manner of camp follower fought with pavilion guards over anything that could be stolen and carried into the safety of the desert. Miles circumvented them without too much concern. Entering the Pharaoh’s chamber, he was confronted by many maidens from all parts of Egypt’s empire, in various stages of undress. A cry of surprise rose up and the women hastily attempted to cover their nakedness...some less hastily than others. Laughing boldly Miles plopped down on the Pharaoh’s throne and surveyed the puzzled harem. He then stated in perfect Egyptian, "Ladies, it seems that the Pharaoh won’t be returning this evening. However, the ‘Glory of Rome’ lies before you!"
Zipos, the commander of the Parthian secret police, rode up on horseback to Bugiya’s headquarters, flanked by his escort. The royal guards immediately recognized him, and they were quickly granted unquestioned access to the king’s presence. The commander had urgent information on the recent murder of Babigna, the king’s brother and heir to his throne.
"Mighty One!" he exclaimed, as he bowed before Bugiya. "I have much to show you."
Bugiya raised his hand, "Let us speak in private, my old friend." The king motioned the secret police escort to leave. One of the escorts lingered and turned about, revealing his true identity. A familiar voice spoke, "Perhaps I should stay, too"
Zipos was appalled, but the king just shook his head. "Agent Miles, do all Romans come and go like the wind? I haven’t seen you since I slew the Pharaoh and his army."
Agent Miles helped himself to a goblet of captured Egyptian wine as he removed a parcel from underneath his robe. "You conquer the Pharaoh’s warriors, and I conquer his women." Miles’ voice was more solemn as he lifted his goblet, "A toast to your fallen brother. All Rome mourns your loss. As a personal gift, I offer you this red tunic that my grandfather wore in the wars against the Greeks. It is my humble desire that you may wear it in your victories over our common enemy." The king was moved by this noble gesture and nodded in agreement.
Bugiya turned to Zipos, "Commander, please continue."
The commander pulled a blood stained dagger from a leather pouch. "Forgive me, Mighty One, but this is the blade that the murderer used. Babigna was alone in his chambers and I had personally checked on him only a short time before his murder."
Miles was intrigued. "May I see that?" The blade gleamed in the candlelight as he checked it from several angles. Showing it to the king, he stated, "This has an Egyptian marking on it, if I’m not mistaken. The hieroglyph for the god Set, the Destroyer. Set is the defender of Egypt from all foreigners. His followers believe that where Set walks, to his left and right, all that lives…withers and dies."
The king spat, "The filthy cowards have no honor! I will slay every Egyptian’s son."
The security commander continued, "My sources tell me that a great fleet is harbored in Alexandria that will bring a new army here to attack you."
Miles sniffed the bouquet of the Egyptian wine and stated flatly, "My sources tell me that no army will sail here, because that army has already crossed the Sinai. An army that was on its way here even before your victory against the Pharaoh."
The commander scoffed in disagreement, "What sources do you have, Roman?"
Miles winked as he said, "Every man notices a concubine’s two beautiful breasts, but forgets that she has two sharp ears as well. Pretty maidens that live the boring life of the ‘Pharaoh’s favorites’, can remember in great detail the most amazing conversations."
Zipos protested, "How can you trust such information?"
Miles replied, "It is a Roman proverb that, ‘In wine, there is truth’."
The king and his head of police glanced at each other in tacit agreement.
Satisfied, Miles continued, "The Pharaoh was weak. A usurper was coming here to destroy you and contest the throne. The Pharaoh had hoped to make certain his rule by retaking Palmyra, but realized that he needed a quick victory instead."
Bugiya scratched his chin and said, "So that is why the Pharaoh abandoned his siege?"
Miles nodded, "Exactly! He moved to attack you, because he had to in order to remain ruler. Now he is gone, and the time is ripe for this usurper to strike. He is a fiery leader who claims to be the son of a god."
Zipos scoffed, "This is Egyptian foolishness."
Miles eyed the king and added, "It will not be foolish should the Egyptians respond to a savior. He is either very shrewd or very mad. In any case, he is very dangerous. One who would replace all other heirs and become Pharaoh by his own deeds. He says that he will prove his claim to the throne of Egypt to be just…by killing you. His banner is crimson red and contains the glyphs of his father’s name, the god Set."
Miles returned the dagger to Zipos and commented, "I’ll see if I can learn anything else about your new enemy." He then bowed and left.
Zipos was unable to control himself any longer as he turned to the king, "Mighty One, why do you indulge this agent? The Romans are only allies as long as it is to their advantage. Surely…"
Bugiya cut the secret police commander off, "I only indulge this agent as long as it is to my advantage. Once the treasures of Egypt are mine, I won’t need any allies. Then that fleet in Alexandria’s harbor will carry my army to Rome! Until then, keep a watchful eye on our Roman agent."
Zipos smiled as he twisted the dagger of Set in his hand, "I will do this myself."
As Miles left the king’s tent the sun was just beginning to rise. He recognized a lone figure by a campfire. Walking up to the young man he greeted him warmly, "Ave Ardumanish! I give my deepest condolences on the passing of your father."
Ardumanish, the only son of Babigna and new heir to the Parthian throne turned and smiled for the first time in many days, "Ave Miles. I had hoped to see you here. I have missed your stories of Rome."
Miles grinned, "Your Latin is improving, but I expected no less from someone with your abilities. You look well."
"I had always feared that my father might die in battle. When I learned that he had been murdered, it was quite a shock." Ardumanish took a deep breath. "When he returned home after the capture of Antioch, he was surprised at how much I had grown. He told me to come with him on this campaign. He wanted to show me the great library in Alexandria. ‘There’s much to learn there, my son.’ Instead of war trophies, he always brought me books from his conquests. I can read and write in four languages, but I can’t find the words to describe how empty I feel."
Miles spoke softly, "Every day is a gift of the gods. Your father must have been a wise man to have wanted you to study so much."
Shaking his head, Ardumanish looked through watery eyes as he answered, "My father was a great warrior and leader, but he was far from being a wiseman. He knew that I was quick to learn and he hoped that I would master strategy and tactics. Instead, I had hoped to master mercy and compassion. I asked him once, how it helped our people to conquer all other peoples." The young man clenched his fists in despair. "But now, perhaps he was right. If the Egyptians would do this..."
Miles stirred the campfire and looked the young prince in the eye, "The Egyptians didn’t do this. Not the farmers along the Nile, or the nomads in their caravans, nor the scholars in Alexandria’s library. One Egyptian madman ordered this and I promise you that he will pay. You may yet master mercy and compassion as the king of Parthia."
The firelight danced on Ardumanish’s face as he replied, "I’ll hopefully never be king. When my uncle has conquered the last of our neighbor’s, I’m sure that he’ll be able to produce an heir or two."
Miles thought long and asked, "The commander of the secret police, he’s Armenian isn’t he?"
Ardumanish was puzzled as he responded, "Zipos? Yes, he betrayed his homeland for a price and opened the gates to their capital for my uncle. Bugiya made him the commander of the secret police because he trusts him completely."
Miles stood up and spoke quickly, "You must go to your father’s personal guard here in the camp. Tell them that they are your guard now. Learn everything you can from them. That shouldn’t be too hard for you. Eat and sleep with them. They must never leave your side. No more sitting alone. Trust me on this. I have a meeting to go to and I can’t explain."
Ardumanish shook his head and laughed as Miles hurried away, "A meeting, no doubt with a beautiful woman!"
Miles mounted his horse and thought to himself, "One can only hope!"
Phrotas cursed himself for allowing his Parthian scouts to be captured by the Egyptians. They had followed a trail of desert brigands to this canyon, unaware that a horde of fanatics lined its walls. That so many men could hide in one place and strike so quickly impressed him. He went over again and again the endless questions that plagued his decision to surrender, but now only one remained. Why were they still alive at all?
Cloth sacks were placed over their heads as Phrotas and his men were led from their holding tent into the cool night air. They stumbled many times as they were led to a low plateau overlooking a valley.
"Talk and you die!" a guard yelled at them in broken Parthian. Their hands were still bound, but the sacks were removed from their heads. Phrotas looked up and saw a large pavilion surrounded by many red banners. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that to the far side of his men was another figure in the uniform of a Parthian officer, but not of his group. The officer was bound as they and was looking back at him. Phrotas opened his mouth to speak but was struck by the guard, "Be silent, Parthian dog!"
Glancing back at the officer, he saw him motion toward his hands. Phrotas’ eyes widened as he saw that the man was still armed with a dagger, and that he was cutting through his bonds.
Just then, many drums thundered and the entire front of the pavilion was raised, revealing a throne in the shape of a giant scorpion. The scorpion’s pincers were the arms of the throne and its raised stinger formed the back. Upon the throne sat a tall, strong bare-chested man with a beard and a shaven head. He rose from the throne and came forward. The guards bowed before what Phrotas figured must be the Egyptians’ leader, the son of Set.
By this time, the Parthian officer had freed himself and took the opportunity to strike. "Bugiya!" he yelled as he charged forward. The kneeling guards were caught off guard as the officer drove the point of the knife deep into their leader’s chest. Blood spurt out and covered the two of them, but the son of Set seemed unharmed. A demonic grin covered his face and instead of crying out in pain, he laughed. Then he grabbed the officer’s knife arm as the Parthian fell to his knees in horror. With his other hand, the demigod grabbed the knife and stabbed the officer in the heart. Blood trickled down the officer’s tunic as the Parthian screamed in pain, and then fell at the feet of the immortal.
The guard turned to Phrotas and spoke, "It is the will of our lord that your lives are spared. Go to your jackal of a king and tell him that death stalks his army. Where Sutekh, the Son of Set walks, all that is Parthian will die!"
The other guards turned the Parthians around to cut their bonds. This is when Phrotas saw another terrible sight. The valley was lined with Sutekh’s fanatics. More torches lined the valley below than stars were in the night sky above. He and his men mounted their horses and rode away as if chased by demons. The drums were pounded again as the army of fanatics chanted, "Sutekh…Sutekh...Sutekh!"
Sutekh raised his hands and the horde of fanatics grew silent. "My children, these are the hills and deserts of your ancestors. Follow me, and the Parthians will never tread here. As Set is my father, I swear that no foreigner will ever threaten Egypt!" The fanatics filled the valley once again with the chanting of their new hero’s name. Sutekh returned to his throne and the front of the pavilion was lowered back in place.
Alone in his tent, Sutekh looked at the fallen Parthian officer’s body before him. He closed his eyes and clapped his hands over his head, "By the will of Sutekh, rejoin the living!" The officer’s body became rigid. He sat straight up and gasped for air as his eyes opened wide. Sutekh looked in the man’s face and thought, "Now your life belongs to me."
The man laughed and spoke, "You should have been an actor like me, Sutekh. In the amphitheaters of Thebes, you could have made quite a good living." He changed out of the Parthian officer’s blood stained uniform as Sutekh drained the last drops of cool, pig’s blood from the trick knife.
Sutekh replied, "It is your performance, Hekhemmut, that will be remembered, once those scouts report back to their king."
Hekhemmut raised one hand and pronounced, "A great admirer of mine once stated that when I die, no one will know if I am acting or not!"
Sutekh grinned and added, "Perhaps your heroic officer will get an award for bravery from the Parthians…posthumously of course. If this act destroys the will of the Parthian army, I may give you an award, too!"
Hekhemmut replied, "I shall be known as the actor who destroyed an army. Fabulous! However, you can keep the awards. You know what I really want. Don’t forget our agreement."
Sutekh went to a chest and removed a small leather pouch. He gave it to Hekhemmut, who quickly poured its contents into his own hand. Hekhemmut held the jeweled scarab up to the candlelight and marveled at its craftsmanship. "Which of your benefactors traded this treasure for a continued position of power during your future reign?" Sutekh only shrugged. Hekhemmut laughed as he added, "I shall buy my own amphitheater with this. Farewell, O’ immortal Son of Set."
Sutekh raised his hand, "Don’t forget your dagger." As he closed with Hekhemmut, he drove the knife’s point into the actor one last time. Hekhemmut started to laugh, but then screamed in pain as the warm blood from his own heart filled his tunic. Sutekh grinned and stated flatly, "Oops, wrong blade." Then he twisted the dagger of Set as Hekhemmut fell to Sutekh’s knees once again.
Sutekh knelt down and retrieved the scarab as he wiped the dagger on Hekhemmut’s robe. "I guess you’ll also be getting that award from me…posthumously." Standing up, he kicked the actor’s feet. Rubbing his beard, he laughed as he muttered, "I don’t think that he is acting this time."
Sutekh returned to his throne and struck a small gong. Guards entered followed by an Egyptian general. "Have that fool’s body fed to the wolves." Sutekh ordered. The General bowed low and remained kneeling as the guards carried Hekhemmut to his final performance. Sutekh tried to remember which of the old Pharaoh’s rivals had appointed this officer to lead his army. The guards left and Sutekh waited a little longer before addressing the general. He thought, "This trained dog must learn obedience to his new master." Finally Sutekh commanded, "Speak!"
General Knumhoptep rose and reported, "My Lord, the Parthian traitor has sent word that he has murdered their king’s brother and heir. He sends this scroll and news that the new heir is but a boy and no warrior."
Sutekh thought for a while, then spoke, "When I slay the Parthian king in battle, our agent can kill the heir. Then the leaderless Parthian army will disintegrate under the weight of my army’s numbers."
Knumhoptep shook his head, "It is true that many more desert brigands join your fanatics every day, but they are hardly a disciplined army. Why not order the traitor to kill the Parthian king and be done with him?"
Sutekh frowned, "You are a good military leader, or so I am told, but not much of a political leader. The king must fall in battle with me." Sutekh waived the dagger to and fro, "I kill the lion and the traitor kills the cub. This is how a man becomes Pharaoh." The general nodded as Sutekh continued, "Once the Parthians have been dealt with and I am Pharaoh, you will lead my armies to conquer the Roman provinces in North Africa. Then you will become the richest general in Egyptian history!"
As Knumhoptep nodded, Sutekh opened the scroll and read the message inside. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "The traitor writes that the Parthian king will wear a red Roman tunic in battle. Have the tailors in the camp make copies of this design. Train your best archers to spot this tunic on the battlefield, and kill the one who wears it!"
Sutekh gave the pouch with the scarab to Knumhoptep, "Send this to the traitor in payment for his work. Perhaps it will bring him better fortune than its previous owner. Send him this dagger of Set, too. He’ll know what to do with it."
As Knumhoptep left, Sutekh wondered how long his promises would buy this man’s loyalty. How good of a performance will all of his benefactors give, when Set’s blade finds its way to their hearts? The gong sounded again and a guard rushed in. Sutekh commanded him, "Have my craftsmen make more daggers of Set for me."
The guard bowed, "Yes my Lord."
Sutekh grinned and added, "Have them make a lot more!"
Chapter II
Princess Aneksi was glad to be on solid ground again, after so many weeks on the merchant vessel. It seemed like only yesterday that she had been walking in Memphis, the ancient capital. She remembered how her mother had instructed her on the importance of what she must do. Aneksi’s brother was the rightful heir to the throne of Egypt, even though he was only ten years old. The princess was sent on vacation so that none of the rivals for the throne would suspect anything out of the ordinary. Normally, Aneksi's royal head was smooth shaven, but was now full of hair to add to her disguise. She must convince the Parthians to end this war if her family was to remain in power. Although she was less than twice her brother’s age, her mother had faith in her strength and intellect. However, Aneksi was still no diplomat. For the success of this mission, she would need the assistance of someone who spoke with a tongue like silver.
The harbor that serviced Jerusalem was a busy place. It had been occupied by the Parthians without a fight and many of the harbor personnel were still the same locals that had worked under the Egyptians. Aneksi quickly located the harbormaster and approached him discreetly. She spoke quietly, but her beauty commanded his attention, "Sir, if you would be so kind as to help me. I am looking for a Roman."
The burley harbormaster eyed the young woman from head to toe, then spoke, "Well you’re in the right place, dear lady. Aye, since the Parthian king has signed a trade agreement with Rome, the whole harbor is full of those buggers. Beggin’ you’re pardon, uh Miss."
Aneksi was visibly distressed as she thought out loud, "Oh dear! I had not anticipated this possibility."
The harbormaster scratched his chin and asked, "Can you perhaps describe this particular Roman?"
Thinking back to all that her mother had said, she replied, "I was only told that he is the most arrogant, impudent, insolent Roman scoundrel that ever lived."
Smiling, the harbormaster nodded and replied, "Oh, you mean Miles." He frowned and added, "I lost a cargo of wine rolling dice with him. There he is, over by the garden entrance to the Temple of Virgins."
The princess thanked the harbormaster and proceeded straight toward Miles. The uncommon wooden soles of her shoes were a personal trademark that made a loud noise on the cobblestones of the harbor road. As she approached Miles she wondered about her mother’s description. Certainly, a man who would make an offering to the Temple of Virgins could not really be a scoundrel. As she drew near, she overheard the conversation between Miles and an acolyte of the temple.
"Excuse me dear lady." Miles bowed as he addressed the young temple virgin. "I am new in this town and I am lost. Perhaps you can tell me..." The adept approached Miles with apparent interest. Miles smiled and looked the girl in the eye as he finished his question, "…the way to your heart?"
Embarrassed, the young woman exploded with laughter, but quickly regained her composure as she exclaimed, "The head of our order warned us not to talk to men of your sort!"
Miles replied with a charming smile, "Well, since we are already over that hurdle, perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Miles…"
"Agent Miles!" Aneksi exclaimed. The temple virgin was startled, but managed to wink at Miles as she slipped through the garden gate. Miles shrugged and turned about, seeing the princess for the first time. Her hair was black and straight, as was the custom of the Egyptian women, but nothing else about her beauty was customary. Her deep brown eyes could swallow a man’s soul and her lips were too inviting to describe. The robe she wore was tight in all the right places and her complexion was a perfect tan. Miles thought back to the parting taunt by Ardumanish and spoke his thoughts out loud, "Thank you!"
Aneksi seemed puzzled as she responded, "I am princess Aneksi."
Miles bowed and replied, "Thank you, princess…for being…so incredibly…punctual."
The princess did not look impressed, "I should have you bound and whipped for accosting a temple virgin."
Miles smiled again, "Intriguing! Tell me, what shall we do after you are done whipping me?"
Aneksi eyes flared as she stated flatly, "Obviously my mother was wrong when she thought that someone like you could ever help my family. I see no reason to continue this conversation." The princess turned to leave.
Miles was undeterred as he asked, "How is your lovely mother? Does she still wear that golden pendant of a fox?"
The "clip clop" of Aneksi’s shoes came to an abrupt halt. Turning around slowly, she asked, "You mean my mother’s favorite pendant. How did you know about that?"
"Well I should know about the gifts I give." Aneksi bore a shocked expression so Miles offered a suggestion. "I can help your family now…as I have in the past. However, a harbor is hardly the place for a discussion. I have a room at a nearby inn that has the best menu in Jerusalem, as well as a very good stock of Roman wine. Actually, I sold the wine to the innkeeper for a rather embarrassing profit." Leading the way, Miles motioned to the princess, "Your Highness?"
Aneksi seemed too stunned to argue. However, as she followed, the sound of her shoes became more forceful. Finally, Miles turned to her with a smile, "Nice shoes! I have a theory that shoes are like a window on the soul of a woman." Pointing at her small feet, Miles stated, "Take your shoes for instance. Hard and stern, announcing your presence wherever you go."
"What else do my shoes tell you?"
Miles smiled and replied, "This depends on whether you had the shoes made or if they were a gift from an admirer."
Aneksi frowned and asked, "Do we really want to talk about shoes?"
"Well, one of us does, but there is no need to continue. This is the inn that I had mentioned." Miles opened the door and ushered the princess to a private room. He caught the attention of the innkeeper and said, "Your finest dinner for two and a bottle of Roman wine."
Aneksi interrupted, "I’ll be drinking from a bottle of simple well water mixed with honey, thank you." The innkeeper nodded as Miles frowned.
Miles held the chair for Aneksi and then lit the candle at their table. The inn was a busy place and Miles did not notice a hooded figure follow them in.
Aneksi explained that her brother would never live to be Pharaoh if the Son of Set returned to Egypt as a hero, "If the Parthians could somehow defeat Sutekh, then we would agree to a ceasefire that allowed them to retain Palmyra and Jerusalem. We could blame their loss on the Son of Set. If you could engineer this, then my brother would improve relations with Rome, perhaps in a trade agreement." Miles was impressed that Aneksi was not just a pretty face although she was a pretty everything else.
A servant arrived with the meal and drink. Miles nodded to Aneksi and quipped, "Here’s my wine and your water, honey."
Aneksi scowled and begged, "Agent Miles, have you listened to anything that I have said? I assure you, that I speak for my brother when I say that we are prepared to make these rather large compromises."
Miles grinned and said, "I agree with you in principle, but before we make such ‘large compromises’, let’s start with small ones." Miles poured a mixture of wine and honey-water for himself. "I shall share in your Egyptian drink…" Then he poured the same for Aneksi. "…and you shall share in my Roman drink." Miles then raised his goblet in toast as he said, "To small compromises, princess."
Aneksi lifted her goblet as well and drank reluctantly. Miles raised his eyebrows as if to question her and she stated, "It’s rather good."
As the wine flowed more easily, Miles listened intently as Aneksi told him of the latest political events in Egypt. The constant wars, in which her father had indulged, had nearly left Egypt bankrupt. Now that he was gone, many men of power doubted that her mother could, or should, rule until her brother came of age. They knew that she wanted peace with their enemies, so that Egypt could heal her wounds. Such powerful men prefer a path to wealth that involves plunder and looting as opposed to commerce and trade.
Miles refilled Aneksi’s goblet once more and she asked, "How did you meet my mother?"
Miles replied, "Years ago, the Greeks were trying to expand into Salamis. A humble agent discreetly arranged for Rome to threaten to attack the Greek mainland and divert their strength. This allowed the Egyptians to retain control of the port. In return, Egypt agreed to respect Roman holdings in North Africa. Your mother was very instrumental in persuading the Pharaoh to forgo war with Rome and Greece. The pendant was sort of a joke about the nickname she had given me."
Miles perceived that Aneksi was relieved to hear this and she began to relax and warm to his manner. He told the events of several of his adventures...some perhaps even true and he became fond of hearing her laughter. Finally he said, "So the Questor’s daughter yelled back, ‘Father, I’m just putting the cat out.’ I then kissed her one last time and slipped into the night. As she closed the door, I heard her father reply, ‘We don’t have a cat!’"
Aneksi giggled as she drank the last of her wine, yet again. As Miles filled her goblet she leaned toward him and whispered, "I know exactly what you are trying to do."
Miles looked into her brown eyes and asked, "What would that be?"
Aneksi continued to giggle as she raised her goblet and garbled her reply, "Win the world with wonderful wine, you wily Wo-man." It was Miles’ turn to laugh as the princess continued, "I mean you rily Roman."
The princess breathed slowly as she stared into the flickering candlelight. Miles looked into her face and wondered which Egyptian goddess of grace and beauty had molded her features. Her eyes seemed almost sad as she spoke, "Do you really think that I am stern like my shoes?"
Miles smiled and replied, "No, I think that you are thoroughly delightful, Aneksi!"
The princess shook her head and continued, "You don’t have to be nice. I’ve heard worse. One would-be suitor told my mother that I was as cold as the stone face on the Phinx."
Miles expression was of confusion as Aneksi repeated herself, "The Phsinx…oh you know, the Sssvveeengzzz. I thought that you knew everything!"
Miles added somewhat modestly, "There are a great many things that I don’t know, princess."
Aneksi nodded in agreement, "Well that’s for sure. I’ll wager that you didn’t even know that the Parthians have a traitor who is meeting with an agent of Sutekh at midnight in the dockyard of this very port."
Miles had suspected that the Egyptian spy network would know more about Sutekh than he. This information was what he had hoped for, but he proceeded carefully. "Do you know the identity of the traitor?"
Aneksi leaned over and said, "Nope. But we will learn this in time."
Miles relaxed somewhat and asked, "Are you sure of this?"
Aneksi waived her index finger at Miles as she said proudly, "Mister Miles, you may have been interested in the goings on in my land for a few years, but I can assure you that my family has been involved with this for many centuries."
Satisfied, Miles thought for a moment. Meanwhile, Aneksi took a deep breath and placed both of her soft hands on the table as she slurred out, "Excushe me, I mush return to my ship." She then rose too abruptly from her seat and her eyes closed as she began to wobble about. Miles was quickly by her side and his strong arms held her tight before she fell. Her own hands slid up his back and hugged him as well. Aneksi’s head cocked back as her dark eyes stared into his.
Miles spoke softly to her, "Even a docked ship is no place for you to sleep tonight. A sturdy bed is what you need and I have just the thing for you upstairs." A sweet smile parted Aneksi’s lips as she nodded in agreement and gave Miles an exaggerated wink.
Miles gently guided her up the stairs as the hooded figure left through the entrance to the inn. Everywhere his hands held Aneksi, her firm body felt good to the touch. Finally, he balanced her on a stool as he lit an oil lamp in his room. Aneksi stretched her arms and removed her shoes. As the lamplight grew, Miles' bed came into view. Standing up more carefully this time, she swayed over to the bedside. She pulled two strings on her clothes as they slid over her body and down her shapely legs, collecting at her feet. The princess then climbed into the comfortable bed and stretched out. Rolling onto her back, she giggled one last time and fell asleep. Miles turned to behold every bit of Aneksi illuminated by the lamp. He pulled a blanket over the princess and kissed her forehead.
Cursing the gods that he could not be in two places at once, Miles whispered, "Sleep well, princess." Then he grabbed his own hooded robe and slipped through the window into the night.
Chapter III
Miles paused on the roof until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The port had been a busy place in the daylight, but very little was going on at this hour. Somewhere through an open window, a baby cried and in the distance a dog barked at a lone passerby. He thought to himself that it shouldn’t be too hard to find this meeting place. No moon shown, but the starlight was enough to cast shadows on the street below. He carefully picked a way down to the road.
Finally, Miles moved through the shadows to the dock and the earthy smells of the town accosted him. Two stray cats fought over something in an alley. Miles smiled at the irony as he overheard a woman berating her spouse’s performance in bed. Finally, he reached the dockyard area. The ships at anchor were gently bobbing up and down. They reminded Miles of what he was missing with the princess. However, even such thoughts as these didn’t mask the feeling Miles had that he was not alone.
Pitch black shadows are the perfect location for foul deeds. Two hooded figures met next to the dock on a byway that smelled like dead fish. Muffled whispers were exchanged. One figure passed a small pouch and a dagger and received a scroll in return. Then the figures parted and the shadows seemed to swallow them. Thus, events that shape nations are decided in the stench of dark alleys.
Miles peered into the shadows and it seemed as though even his very heart beat quietly. Someone was there. Who was the hunter and who was the prey would be decided by a single noise. The sweat on Miles’ hand slid down his fingers and onto his throwing knife. Long minutes passed with no sounds other than the distant crash of the tide. The smell in the alley was unbearable. Then, suddenly a rat crawled out of a barrel. Its fur gleamed with the slime and blood of fish entrails. Finally, it started to claw at the leather on Miles’ shoe. Two more rats, even filthier than the first, followed. In the distance, a dog barked at a passerby. That was what Miles had waited for. He quickly stomped his foot on the rat as the other two scurried off. He started moving in the direction of the barking dog.
Miles had the advantage and he moved swiftly into position, but the hooded figure that he pursued was also moving quickly. Miles’ robe billowed behind him as his heart now beat like a drum. Several times he came within a second of acquiring his target. He raised his blade to throwing position only to see his target dash away. The hooded figure was good, very good. He darted and dodged as he hurried along toward his destination. Miles finally came to a halt in the last bit of shadows, as he saw his prey arrive at the gate of the Parthian compound. The figure threw back his hood as the guards recognized him and passed him through without question. Miles sheathed his weapon as his lips parted in whispered exclamation, "Zipos!"
After several failed attempts to find his way back to the inn, Miles was finally able to recognize some landmarks. He had cooled off and decided to be very cautious with what he had learned this evening. He must find out everything he can about Zipos. This would be the best way to proceed.
As the inn finally came into sight, Miles darted back into the shadows. He noticed a group of Parthian cavalry gathered there. Two of the cavalrymen came out of the inn and reported to a mounted officer, "The Roman is not inside." The two soldiers looked at each other and smiled, "however, there is a beautiful woman sleeping in his bed."
The mounted officer turned his horse around and looked into the shadows where Miles was. To the surprise of his soldiers, he asked, "A beautiful lady friend of yours?"
Miles stepped out of the shadows and added with a grin, "All women are beautiful. They can grow little people inside their luscious bodies. I see a goddess in every woman’s face."
The officer stated, "I recognize your arrogant manner. You must be the one they call Miles."
Miles bowed in agreement. "There is no mighty Spirit but the mighty Spirit, and there is no Miles, but Miles."
Seemingly unimpressed, the officer continued, "I am the captain of Prince Ardumanish’s guard. The prince has sent me to find you and bring you to him."
Miles’ concern grew and he asked, "Did the prince say what it was about?"
The captain peered down at Miles and said, "No. His orders were to find you and bring you to him, immediately."
Miles nodded, "Allow me to freshen up and we can leave."
The captain dismounted his horse and confronted Miles. "I’ll be blunt. I follow my prince’s orders to the letter. I’ve found you and we are leaving…immediately!"
Miles glanced at the window to his room one last time, then spoke, "Well then, we shouldn’t keep the good prince waiting."
The soldiers of the prince’s new personal guard were very tight lipped. Miles had started a conversation with the two guards who had seen Aneksi, but one glance from the captain and the guards were silent again. At the end of the day’s journey, they camped and the captain posted a watch. It seemed to Miles, that the watch was more interested in his own movements than anything else. Finally they ate. Miles took his meal and sat by the captain.
"We’re alone at last." Miles said with a smile. The captain scowled and continued to eat. Undeterred, Miles continued. "You don’t like me, do you?"
The captain continued to eat, then said, "I don’t even know you…" Then he looked Miles in the eye, "…and I don’t like you. I’m a warrior. I fight for my country. I don’t like agents who live by sneaking around in the shadows."
Miles shrugged, "Well perhaps you should reconsider. I come from a family of great warriors. They all fought for their country…and died. Rome’s might grew great as my family’s numbers grew small. I prefer to live by ‘sneaking around in the shadows’, because I prefer to live. Like you, I also prefer that your prince will continue to live. You know that the best way to accomplish this is for us to work together."
The captain considered this, and then spoke, "What is it you want from me?"
Miles seized his chance, "What can you tell me about Zipos, the commander of the secret police?"
The journey to Ardumanish’s camp was short. The captain dressed Miles in the uniform of a guardsman, so that he might enter the camp unnoticed. This was the bivouac of a large army and Miles could see that preparations were being made for battle. What struck Miles was the look on the faces of the soldiers. He had never before seen Parthian soldiers that looked afraid.
Miles was taken straight to the tent of Prince Ardumanish and in no time he was standing before a great warlord in full armor.
"Ardumanish," Miles exclaimed. "I hardly recognize you!"
"Ave Miles. This is…was…my father’s armor. The good captain has shown me how to wear it, but I’m afraid I still have a lot to learn. However, I didn’t summon you here to address my fears. It’s the fears of the army that require your assistance. This is Phrotas, one of my uncle’s scouts. He has information that I need your advice on."
Phrotas retold the events at Sutekh’s camp. Miles listened closely, but was mostly concerned with the fear in the man’s voice. Common people can become great warriors. Though they may have the heart of a lion, simple folk still have common fears of the unknown or the unimaginable. As Phrotas finished, he and Ardumanish looked to Miles.
Miles laughed and remarked, "About two summers ago during an intermission at the Coliseum, a sort of exotic dancer created the illusion that she was pulling a seemingly endless stream of pigeons right out of her…" Miles motioned towards his crotch, then continued, "…or were they doves? Anyway, it was really amazing. Perhaps because I had drank too much wine."
Ardumanish and the scout seemed totally confused. Miles looked the scout in the eye and said, "Look, I’ve been from one end of the Mare Nostrum to the other and I’ve seen a lot of strange things, but I have never seen the son of a god and neither have you. I don’t exactly know how Sutekh managed this illusion, but I can assure you that an illusion is all that it was."
Ardumanish appeared pleased with what Miles said and even Phrotas nodded in agreement. "Too bad that you cannot tell this story to all the soldiers of the army." the prince said.
Miles smiled, "We’ll tell them something better. Phrotas assemble your scouts and inform them that when you reported to the prince, he said that he would prove Sutekh to be an immortal."
Ardumanish and the scout were once again totally confused by and Miles continued, "Tell them that he laughed. Then he said he would personally cut off Sutekh’s head and throw it in the sea. Travelers will watch his headless body swimming after it for the rest of days."
Phrotas and Ardumanish smiled at each other. Miles asked, "Phrotas, would you recognize this Sutekh fellow if you saw him again."
Phrotas quickly exclaimed, "I will never forget his face!"
Miles winked at Ardumanish and added, "Have you ever considered joining the prince’s personal guard?"
The next day started early, with lots of training. The captain knew his business well and Ardumanish was an excellent student. However, Miles noticed that the prince had some difficulty acquiring the target with his bow. Miles was offering advice when the captain stormed over to the prince’s side and barked, "What do you know about archery, Roman?"
Miles was not flustered as he responded, "Well…it does look terribly difficult." He held the Parthian bow and an arrow awkwardly in his hands, then in an instant the arrow was cocked and flew true to the target’s center. He quipped, "Beginner’s luck, I guess."
The captain frowned and snatched the bow. In less than an instant, his arrow split Miles’ own shaft in two. He looked at Miles and said, "Let’s try your luck with sword combat."
Miles was equipped with a sword in a wooden sheath and a shield. The guardsmen were assembled in two lines. The captain stood across from Miles. "Battle ready!" he yelled and the men responded with, "Fit to fight!" The sword combat began in earnest.
The captain demonstrated many techniques and Miles added some purely Roman methods for the prince. More than once, Miles wondered if the captain had forgotten that they were only demonstrating mock combat. The prince joined in with typical zeal. It was a good display of skill and all three learned something from each other.
At the evening meal there was much talk and laughter. Miles noticed that Ardumanish was very quiet, though. He ate almost in silence as if in deep thought. Finally, he stood up and walked outside the tent into the night air. Miles followed as the captain watched.
"You don’t seem to have much of an appetite." Miles said with concern.
The prince shrugged as he spoke, "I think that it is my soul that is hungry tonight. I’ve never even seen an Egyptian, but now I spend every waking moment learning how to kill them. Somehow though, all the training and preparation is so, well, exciting. It’s almost intoxicating. All day, all I could think about was meeting Sutekh in battle and avenging my father. But just now, when I looked around the table at the faces of those men, I wondered how many of them won’t make it. I think that I am more afraid of one of them dying or being maimed than I am of my own death. My uncle commands the army, but I command them. However, they are all brave warriors. If I ordered them to throw down their swords and ride home, would they really do it? It’s insane, like riding a war elephant that’s running amok. I can’t stop this and I must go forward with it until the madness ends."
Miles looked at the stars and said, "Choices never come easy to any leader. Many may want what you do not and the way will not always be clear. Use your wisdom to guide you and persuade others that your way is best. Control the situation, don’t let it control you."
Just then the captain raised the tent flap and the prince and Miles returned to the dinner. The captain raised his goblet and commanded, "A toast to our prince!" The men stood and echoed with glee, "To the prince."
The captain continued, "As the blood of our ancestors strengthens our sword-hands, let the blood of our enemies fill the desert sands."
The men chanted, "Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!"
Miles eased his weary body onto his cot, but then he heard footsteps outside his tent and he sprang out of bed. The captain entered the tent with two retainers carrying armor. He looked at Miles with a stern face and said, "You’ve worn the uniform of a guardsman well. However, in battle you will need a suit of proper armor. This is my old armor. It served me well. It’s probably a little big for you, so these two will fit it to you."
The captain turned to leave and Miles was too stunned to say much more than, "…Thank you."
The captain turned around and added, "I feel that I know you better now. I may have misjudged you." He stuck out his hand and Miles shook it, although the captain’s grip was like a vice. "Of course, I still don’t like you."
Miles shook off the tingling sensation in his hand as he replied, "Oh, of course." Then the two men grinned together.
The next morning began as the one before. The prince, however, seemed more determined on this day. The men paired off in line as the training with swords began. This time, it was Ardumanish who stood across from Miles. Admiring Miles’ new armor, the prince remarked, "It is I who hardly recognizes you now."
Miles stretched under the weight of the mail and grinned, "The captain is somewhat broader in the shoulders than I…although not as broad in the crotch."
Ardumanish laughed and added, "Let’s see if that impairs your sword arm." He then looked to the captain, who nodded at him. The prince raised his sword and commanded, "Battle ready!"
The men raised their swords and replied to their warlord, "Fit to fight!"
Now, the prince led all of the training under the watchful eye of his captain. The men grew accustomed to his commands and he seemed more confident in giving them. The captain presented many different tactical situations and his young student showed a natural ability to master each one. At the evening meal, Ardumanish joined in all the talk, and the laughter.
At one point, the captain found Miles alone with Phrotas at a separate table. Miles was sketching a picture of Sutekh with direction of the former scout. "My Lord has shown more spirit since you two talked."
Miles nodded, "Yes. It seems that he’s no longer riding a raging war elephant. His spirit is becoming like one."
"Good!" The captain added, "I strengthen his sword-arm and you his heart." Miles grinned in agreement.
Just then, a courier entered the tent and gave Ardumanish a scroll. The prince read the scroll and stood up as the men went silent. "This is word from the king. The Egyptians are moving on Jerusalem. All camps are ordered to muster and move toward an assembly point. We are called to battle!"
The men stood up and started singing a song in old Parthian. Miles did not know all of the words, but looking at the faces of the men, he could guess at the song’s meaning. He hoped that all that he had done thus far would not come to ruin in a single savage battle. Indeed, the plans of everyone in Egypt, Parthia and Rome would be influenced by the events of this one madness.
The Parthians were principally a horse army that moved in dispersed groups that concentrated at the point of battle. As the groups met, officers hailed one another and new songs were sung. The best riders among the various groups challenged each other’s skill in displays of horsemanship. Many banners billowed in the wind, but none were greater than the prince’s. In respect, all were lowered at his approach, and it seemed as though each commander could tell Ardumanish a new tale of his father’s bravery.
The captain always instructed Ardumanish with the proper protocol, but soon the prince displayed a natural talent to impress those new to him. Miles got the impression that the prince's words inspired those who mourned his father and that they came to admire him for his will and not just for his office.
Miles had spent most of the journey branding the sketch of Sutekh onto his memory. He was certain that he could spot him on the battlefield. He was not as certain if he would get the opportunity. Miles was torn between sneaking into the Egyptian camp and dealing with Sutekh alone, or safeguarding Ardumanish as best he could. He decided to stay by the prince.
Eventually, the prince’s wing of the army joined with that of King Bugiya. Ardumanish and Miles met quickly with his uncle. The king’s plan was straightforward. Both wings of the army would pelt the Egyptian line with volleys of arrows. As soon as disorder ruled, the king would lead his royal cataphracts through any holes in their front. Fast Persian cavalry would secure their flanks. No army had ever withstood their assault.
Miles and the prince rode off to rejoin his forces and Zipos remarked to the King, "It seems that not only has one of you scouts joined with the prince, but also the Roman."
Bugiya nodded, "It would be a real shame if I must report to Rome that their agent was killed in battle."
Zipos grinned and replied, "I perceive, Mighty One. I will see to his ’well-being’ personally."
Miles was in awe as he viewed the Parthians. This was even a larger cavalry force than had been used against the Pharaoh and he wondered if Rome could match such an army as this. Courier’s brought orders from Bugiya as scouts reported the latest movements of Sutekh’s horde. Several dunes separated the two armies from direct view, but great plumes of dust filled the skies where the soldiers marched and rode.
Ardumanish read his instructions, and then turned to Miles. "I told you once that I doubted if I could order my men out of this battle. Well there is one that I can spare. This is not your war Miles. Stand down my friend."
Miles bowed as best he could in the captain’s armor. "I am afraid that if I do not fight Sutekh here, then Rome must fight him another day. Death to our enemies!"
Ardumanish nodded and drew his sword as he commanded, "Forward!"
As the Parthians crested the dunes, trumpets sounded and drums thundered on both sides. Miles rode to the top of the last dune and he could finally see the army of Sutekh. The center seemed to be a professional group of spearmen backed by archers. The flanks were covered by great hordes of desert nomads from various tribes on horses or camels. To the rear, on another dune, was a small group of chariots and Miles strained to make out Sutekh himself. There did not seem to be as many Egyptians as the scouts had reported. Perhaps the Egyptians had decided that they would rather be with their mothers than with Sutekh.
Ardumanish rode forward as the mounted archers fired one deadly volley after another. The center of Sutekh’s army held and their archers returned fire, but the nomads wavered. Both flanks of desert brigands routed before the charging Persian Cavalry. Soon, Miles saw Sutekh’s own chariots flee over the dunes and out of sight, and then the whole Egyptian army retreated behind the far dune. Bugiya drew his sword and ordered a full attack to pursue and annihilate the Egyptians.
The Parthians rode over the far dune and Phrotas saw the Egyptians fleeing into a canyon as the army charged after them in great haste. This was all too familiar to the scout. The memory of his capture by a huge force of silent fanatics in just such a canyon was still fresh. He quickly rode to the prince’s side and yelled as loud as he could, "Wait, it’s a trap!"
Chapter IV
Ardumanish was terrified and exhilarated at the same time. Charging after Sutekh’s army brought a fierce beast to life in his spirit. Just then, Phrotas rode up along side of him yelling. "Stop, my prince! This is another trap like the one when I was captured!"
Ardumanish looked at the man’s face. He remembered how Phrotas had looked when he was afraid, and he could see no fear this time. His expression was of one who saw the truth and spoke it.
The prince raised his sword and commanded his wing of the army to stop, but the thirst for battle had overcome them. Only his guard and a few others near them stopped while the rest charged onward with the king. His captain looked totally surprised as he rode up with Miles. "My prince, we mustn’t stop here. The king will kill even you for such cowardice!"
Ardumanish looked into his mentor’s eyes and spoke, "Phrotas warns that this could be a trap, and…I don’t know. It seems too easy. What if it is a trap?."
The captain was typically stern as he looked into Phrotas’ face and spoke, "Sire, this man isn’t a real guardsman. The only noble thing to do is for you to lead the attack to destroy your father’s murderer."
A fire was rekindled in Ardumanish’s soul for a vengeance that was quickly escaping him. Phrotas had fallen silent and the faces of the guardsmen resembled hungry wolves. Ardumanish had no fear of traps or deceptions as long as he could bury his sword in Sutekh’s heart! Then, he saw Miles. The Roman seemed to be studying him. Ardumanish remembered the advice Miles had given him. ‘Control the situation, don’t let it control you.’ Ardumanish took a deep breath and looked into each soldier’s face as he spoke, "True, Phrotas is only a scout. But I trust his advice, because he was surprised in just such a canyon by Sutekh. If it is a trap, only we can do anything to stop the destruction of the army. You are my personal guard. If you do not trust in me, then no one will, and the army will be lost."
The captain spoke for all the men. "Forgive me, my prince! Humility is a new emotion for me. I never doubted your father, and I will never doubt you again. What are your orders, mighty one!"
Ardumanish thought quickly as he looked around, "Phrotas take some of the men and scout around the canyon. Captain, have the bugler sound rally and collect as many men as you can. Send someone back to bring up the drummers, the cooks and anyone else left behind who can fight. Arm them with weapons from the fallen. Assemble them in that bluff. Anyone who tries to seal off the canyon will be at our mercy as we surprise them with our own trap."
Phrotas and the captain rode off and Miles smiled with pride at Ardumanish. "Well done. What orders do you have for me?"
The prince looked at Miles with remorse and replied, "I need someone whose arrogance knows no fear. One who would ride to his certain doom and warn the king. I…"
"Is this someone taller than I?" Miles smiled as he and Ardumanish shook hands. "Farewell prince." Then Miles rode into the canyon of death.
Ahead around the narrow valley, Sutekh’s archers climbed out of spider holes along the sides of both cliffs as deadly missiles flew from their bows. Many Parthian horse archers returned fire, but their arrows could seldom reach the top of the cliffs where the fanatics were.
King Bugiya wore the red Roman tunic of Miles’ grandfather, just as the traitor had foretold. As he was rallying his army, the Egyptians aimed a volley at him. Most of the arrows missed or bounced off the King’s armor, but one pierced his neck as he fell from his horse. The Parthian army was now in total disarray. Groups of horse archers volleyed uncoordinated in every direction while the wounded scrambled to find a mount. No one seemed to be in charge and the situation was turning desperate as men began to panic.
On his way into the canyon Miles grabbed a bugle and the banner of the prince. With a mental apology to the captain, he threw down his shield and helmet to lighten his mount’s load. Riding as though he had been shot from a bow, he began his pursuit of the Parthians. He hoped that the army was not already too far ahead for him to arrive in time.
Miles needed all his strength to keep moving ahead. It was not fear that hindered him, but compassion. He had lost count of the number of wounded he had passed who had begged for assistance. Just a single drink of water before they died or a message to their families was all they had asked. Their faces would haunt Miles, but he rode on so he might save thousands while they still had a chance to live. Along the way, a few stragglers joined him. Soon, he could see the Parthians and he started sounding the bugle. He didn’t know any of the Parthian battle calls, but he blew as loud and long as he could. Slowly, the army heard him and rallied to the prince’s banner. However, this was an army in name only. Organization had failed and many units were leaderless or leaders had lost all hope. Miles lifted the banner and turned to run as the horsemen followed.
The sound of the horse’s hooves echoed through the canyon behind Miles as he raced back to anticipated safety. The Egyptians were in close pursuit. As Miles rounded the last bend before the end of the canyon he saw the last part of the trap unfold. The horde of desert brigands had only ran away from the Persian cavalry. They had then circled and returned to seal off the canyon and trap the Parthians. Miles knew the army’s survival depended on the young Ardumanish.
Ardumanish looked around at the men assembled in the bluff, but he could think of nothing more to do. His only knowledge of war was from the texts his father had given him. However, this was no lesson in strategy. This was his plan to save the army and Parthia from the evil Sutekh.
Ardumanish envied the fire in the soldiers' eyes. He had studied medical scrolls by Hippocrates and knew full well what savagery awaited them. A beast in the forest could not match what a man could do with an battleaxe or a spear. No flood or landslide could kill so many so horribly as an army in battle. The muscles of the slain would empty their bowels. A village of pig farms could not rival the stench of a battlefield. Desert vermin would feast on the dead tonight. Only historians could find valor in this.
Phrotas had spied the brigands. He had returned unseen to report that they blocked the canyon. Meanwhile, the captain had rounded up every Parthian that could still fight. They were a strange group. As Ardumanish walked among them, he saw the man who had made his breakfast. The cooks were actually soldiers whose age or wounds had kept them from further battle. One man was a grizzled fellow with a sword in his left hand and a shield strapped to the stump where his right hand had been. Perhaps he would scare the Egyptians to death.
Some of the others were soldiers that had been wounded, but had refused more than rudimentary medical treatment. As Ardumanish tightened what bandages they had, he knew that some were most likely already dying. The guardsmen rode among the men, bolstering their courage. The fate of Parthia rested upon each of them.
Then Ardumanish came up behind one of the drummers who looked even younger than he. The tall boy seemed lost in the armor that had been given him. The youth was struggling with a leather strap. Ardumanish bent over and tightened it.
"Thanks mate!" the boy said as he turned around. Startled by Ardumanish’s uniform, he continued, "I mean thank you, sir."
Ardumanish was surprised at how young the drummer really was. He wanted to tell the boy to hide until the battle ended, but the youth spoke first. "You are one of the brave guardsmen, aren’t you?"
Ardumanish thought a moment and answered, "I hope to be. Where are you from, lad?"
The boy continued to fiddle with his armor, "Oh, a small fishing village by the inland sea. You’ve probably never heard of it," he looked Ardumanish in the face and winked, "at least no one else has." Apparently satisfied that his armor was in place, he donned a helmet that nearly covered his eyes. The boy stood as tall as he could. It seemed to Ardumanish that the youth spoke as though courage was a game he had just mastered, "When you see the prince, tell him not to worry about us. We’ll do our duty."
Ardumanish opened his mouth, but could find no voice with which to speak. Just then, another boy came and whispered to the first, "Come on! They’ve found some swords for us."
The first boy slapped Ardumanish on the shoulder before he left and said, "Good luck!"
Ardumanish remained speechless for what seemed like an eternity. Men rushed about all around him, yet he felt somehow terribly alone.
Phrotas and the captain rode up to Ardumanish. The captain called out, "The army is coming! Miles made it. Now is the time to attack my prince!"
Ardumanish mounted his horse and drew his father’s sword. All eyes were upon him as he yelled, "For Parthia!"
The main force of the Parthian army was reduced to a rabble that came to a halt just short of the mouth of the canyon. A mass of desert brigands blocked their exit. Miles passed the bugle he was still carrying to an officer by his side and commanded, "Play the ‘call to charge’ as loud as you can." He then rode in front of the bewildered army and yelled, "Sons of Parthia lend me an ear. All cowards to the rear, those of you who are true warriors…follow me!"
The officer sounded the bugle loud and strong, but the men could hardly believe what they heard. Miles rode on with the banner of Ardumanish flying behind in the air. He drew his sword as the sun sparkled across its length. Slowly, men without hope took up the call and coaxed their mounts on. Miles could see that the enemy was not impressed. He knew that he brigands’ numbers would slow the Parthians until the Egyptians closed the trap from behind. The last charge of the Parthians did not frighten the cavalry to his front.
Then, another Parthian bugle sounded. A force of mad dogs sprang out of the desert and trapped the brigands between a hammer and an anvil. Now the bandits were surprised by the first charge of King Ardumanish.
Miles charged into the bandits. He crashed the point of the prince’s banner deep into the bandit to his left, as he dodged under a sword blow from the one to his right. He then severed that bandit’s neck with a backhanded slice from his sword. Another bandit rode up to his left and Miles released the banner. He drove his sword down so that the man blocked with his shield. Quickly, Miles grabbed the ear of the bandit’s horse with his free hand and twisted it downwards so that the horse instinctively followed, spilling its rider on the ground. One more blow slew the dazed brigand. Then Miles swung down and scooped up the man’s shield. He drew the shield up just in time as an arrow slammed into it. Fortunately, the odds against him started to shift in Miles’ favor.
Ardumanish saw that the brigand leaders had positioned themselves well to the rear of their own force. This put them safely out of the way of the trapped Parthian army’s attack. However, it also put them directly in front of the prince's surprise attack. They had little time to think as they saw the prince’s charge, but they all seemed to have come to the same conclusion. The commanders quickly fled, abandoning their mercenaries to their own fate. Leaderless and surrounded, the force of bandits was condemned to the merciless sentence that murderers and thieves deserve.
Ardumanish fell upon the rear of the brigands with a terrible wrath. Flanked by Phrotas and his loyal captain, they cut a swath through the thieves that led eventually to his own fallen banner. The bandits were in a hopeless situation and they knew it. Camels and horses fled in all directions as every one of the hired killers fell to a sword or an arrow.
The captain dismounted and pulled Ardumanish’s banner from the dead man and hoisted it high. The army responded with a mighty ‘Hurrah!’ He looked for Miles and saluted him with a smile.
Miles yelled, "It’s about time that you got here."
The captain replied, "At least you learned enough from me to survive until we could get here." The two laughed and shook hands.
Ardumanish rode up with Phrotas at his side. He looked around and asked, "Where is my uncle?"
Miles shook his head and replied, "I was unable to save your uncle, my friend. You are the king now."
King Bugiya’s body was carried to Ardumanish’s banner by his guard. Ardumanish dismounted and knelt beside his uncle. He laid his hand upon Bugiya’s chest and whispered a prayer as the men around him knelt as well. Miles watched as Zipos moved up behind the new king.
Phrotas, however, sprang to his feet. He heard a hauntingly familiar chant coming from the canyon behind them and yelled, "Sutekh is coming!"
Just then, a horrible roar echoed from the canyon to their rear. Sunlight danced on the canyon walls, reflected by the Egyptians’ armor. Chariots came into view, followed by a horde of fanatics, disciplined spearmen and archers. As one they yelled, "Sutekh!"
Bloodied and tired, the Parthians realized that the real battle had only just begun.
At the mouth of the canyon, Sutekh’s chariot rolled up to a stop. He mistook what he saw. He had imagined this very moment for so long that his imagination lied to him now. "Excellent!" he exclaimed, "The Parthians are doomed. Now the traitor will reveal himself and kill the young prince. Victory shall be mine." He turned and yelled to General Knumhoptep, "Full attack!" Scanning the Parthian lines, Sutekh saw the banner of the new king. He grabbed his bow as he led his chariots in a charge at that banner.
As Phrotas turned around, the valley behind him filled with Egyptians. Ardumanish rose quickly and gripped his sword as officers ordered their formations, "Captain, sound rally. Have all those men without horses form a skirmish line in front of the cavalry. Let the chariots through and then..."
Ardumanish was interrupted as someone screamed in pain behind him. Miles' blade slit the throat of Zipos and he threw his lifeless corpse to the ground. The captain grabbed Miles and his vice-like grip closed on the Roman's throat. A guardsman dropped his own cocked bow and arrow to the ground and disarmed Miles. The trust Ardumanish had in Miles was dashed.
Miles looked at Zipos and gasped, "Check him."
Behind Ardumanish, Phrotas pulled a dagger from Zipos’ hand. The scout eyed it and said, "I remember the red banners by the pavilion where I was captured, Mighty One. This bears the mark of Sutekh!"
Ardumanish turned back to the captain and commanded, "Release him. I am sorry my friend. Forgive us."
Freed, Miles smiled and breathed deeply. Then he turned sharply to everyone’s surprise. He lunged forward and snatched up the guardsman’s bow and arrow from the ground. In a flash, the arrow was cocked. He quickly took aim as Ardumanish screamed, "No!"
Chapter V
The air by Ardumanish’s ear hissed as Miles’ arrow flew by. Turning, the king saw the true target was an archer on a chariot that was coming his way. Then he realized that it was not just any archer, but Sutekh himself. The arrow had struck Sutekh in the chest as he had shot his own bow. Sutekh fell against the driver and knocked him from the chariot. The horses turned away from the battle’s noise and the chariot raced into the open desert.
Lowering his sword from Miles’ throat, the captain exclaimed, "Nice shot!"
Miles winked as he calmly replied, "Not really. I was aiming for his crotch."
Just then, Phrotas turned toward Ardumanish and cried, "My king…I am hit!" He fell to his knees as Ardumanish caught him. Sutekh’s errant arrow had struck Phrotas in the back.
With deadly effect, the other chariots raced through the disorganized Parthian army. Screaming fanatics marched toward them as Egyptian archers moved within range. Dashing forward, the captain implored, "My lord, I will see to the scout. You must leave this place."
Shaking his head, Ardumanish whispered, "It’s too late. He’s dead." Standing up with a terrible fury, Ardumanish looked around, "No coward was ever king of Parthia. Rally the men to that high ground. We’ll make our stand there." Trumpets roared as the remaining Parthian soldiers limped up the slope where they would die.
Across the plain, Bes, the young Egyptian lieutenant ran up to Knumhoptep. He caught his breath and reported. "Sir, I saw Sutekh has fallen in battle. Also, the Parthians are retreating! They are finished."
Knumhoptep almost grinned. He dismounted and ordered, "Have the men form up at the rally point."
Dumbfounded, the lieutenant replied, "But general…the battle is won."
Knumhoptep pulled a parchment out of a saddlebag as he stated, "I fight for Egypt, not for a dead madman." The general began to write on the scroll, but then looked up at the lieutenant, who was too shocked to move. "You have your orders."
Drums thundered and banners signaled the command, as the disciplined Egyptian spearmen and archers turned from battle and marched to a prearranged assembly point. Ardumanish did not understand what kind of trick this might be, but he used every minute he was given to order his own troops. He and the captain had personally carried the body of Phrotas to a place of safety. Then to raise their morale, the king would command the army on the hill, while his captain would lead all the cavalry that remained. The men drank what water they had and said their last prayers.
Ardumanish walked along his line of men giving words of inspiration. Finally he took up a position where he could observe the Egyptians. He asked Miles, "Can you think of anything else we might do?"
Miles shook his head and quipped, "You might ask the Egyptians to surrender."
The king scoffed grimly. He could see that the Egyptians had superior numbers. Had he chosen to run, most of his wounded wouldn’t have made it. His eyes narrowed as he spotted something and remarked, "What sort of trick is this?"
Lieutenant Bes reported back to Knumhoptep, who looked up from the scroll before him, "Sir, the royal spearmen and archers are assembled. The chariots have fled, but Sutekh’s followers are going to charge the hill by themselves. That’s them at the base of the slope with their backs to us."
Showing little concern, Knumhoptep responded, "Have the archers slay those fanatics."
The lieutenant was bewildered and exclaimed, "But sir!"
The general returned to his scroll and commented with an icy calmness, "Lieutenant Bes, if you ever hope to become a general some day, you must do something about your streak of disobedience."
Dejected, the young officer answered, "Yes sir."
The general continued, "Now have an emissary take these terms for an armistice to the Parthians. That’s all."
The young officer left and muttered, "After which I will just go and get drunk."
The Parthians watched as their fate was rewritten. The screaming fanatics were cut down by a hail of arrows and then brutally finished off by the Egyptian spearmen. Finally, a rider with a flag of truce rode up to the king’s banner.
Ardumanish stepped forward to the rider as he spoke in Parthian, "General Knumhoptep offers a truce and asks to meet with you to discuss an end to all hostilities."
Immediately the king replied, "Accepted! I have many wounded though, that I must attend to personally, but my second in command will represent me at this meeting."
The Egyptian nodded and added, "Regrettably, Sutekh’s fanatics slew all of your wounded in the valley behind us. I am the surgeon for our army. My humble services are available to you."
Ardumanish bowed, "Thank you, sir." He turned to Miles and asked, "Would you go with my captain and translate?" Miles bowed in agreement.
The captain whistled a martial tune as he and Miles rode to the meeting. Miles turned to him and said, "You know for a moment back there, I actually thought you were going to cut my head off."
Smiling for a moment without saying a word, the captain then continued to whistle.
Chapter VI
The sun was beginning to set as Miles and the captain arrived in the Egyptian camp. The bodies of the slain fanatics had been accounted for, and as was the Egyptian custom, one hand was cut from each corpse and placed in a grizzly pile. A lieutenant escorted them into a large tent. Miles recognized Sutekh’s pavilion from the description he had got from Phrotas. The red banners were being removed and the scorpion throne dismantled. Both were thrown onto a bonfire. Lamps were lit as scribes searched through the scrolls in Sutekh’s many chests. Miles noticed that the parchments were not being burned.
An officer greeted them. He was older than Miles had imagined the Egyptian commander would be, though very fit and energetic. He spoke in Parthian as they drew near, "Gentlemen, welcome. I am Knumhoptep. Which of you is King Ardumanish?"
Miles shook his hand and explained, "King Ardumanish sends his regrets, but he has many wounded to save. He respectfully asks that his aide temporarily serve in his place. I am Miles, a humble servant of Rome. The king has asked me to act as an impartial intermediary and translator."
Knumhoptep nodded, "Yes, of course. Hopefully, his trust in me will not become a casualty."
Miles was quick to reply, "I assure you, that the king has no reason to mistrust you. He is most pleased with your offer of peace, but…"
The general interrupted, "…but he struggles to understand it." Smiling, the general leaned forward and continued, "I think that we are both struggling to understand each other." Miles nodded and the formal discussion began.
The meeting was very cordial and an agreement was ironed out in time for an evening meal. Both Miles and the captain were sure that Ardumanish would agree to what was proposed. Finally wine was served. Miles took the opportunity to speak alone with the general.
Miles raised his goblet to Knumhoptep and said in Egyptian so that the captain could not overhear, "Now that your talks with the Parthians have progressed, perhaps we can talk. I will tell you of the truths that I know, and you can tell me of the truth that I suspect." The general nodded. "Egypt was in political turmoil because of the constant warfare of the late Pharaoh. Sutekh was encouraged by…someone, so that all of the Pharaoh’s rivals would back him. Now Sutekh is dead and the rivals are revealed by their scrolls in Sutekh’s chests. You have all the Egyptians in one basket, so to speak. You spared Ardumanish so that a legitimate ruler could accept your offer, and thereby legitimize your new ruler. You and your men are much too good to be mercenaries. You were sent here to betray Sutekh."
Knumhoptep leaned back in his chair and laughed, "Of course. I was sent by the Pharaoh’s wife with her palace guard. Now her son can reign without fear of opposition."
Miles nodded, "I suppose that as soon as your men find enough evidence, then his rivals’ hands will be lying in a pile?"
Knumhoptep stopped laughing and replied, "Why would we do so foolish a thing as to kill such powerful men?" Knumhoptep leaned forward once more and continued, "Look at the fire burning in that brazier of oil. Fire can be very dangerous. It can mutilate, blind…even kill. However, if controlled, it can light your way in the darkness. We all walk in darkness. Great men that we meet along our path can be dangerous…even murderous. Yet, if we can control them, they can help light the path to our destiny."
Miles sipped his wine and added, "As I have helped you?"
The general raised his own goblet and replied, "As we…have helped each other."
It was quite late as Miles and the captain returned. They found the field hospital that had been set up for the wounded. Many men would owe their lives to the medical knowledge of their king. As they came near, Ardumanish walked out of the tent. He was covered with blood and his face was as stern as the captain’s.
"Mighty One, you must eat and rest!" the captain implored.
Ardumanish’s expression softened and he said, "I haven’t eaten since this morning. You’re right again, my friend."
Food and drink for the young ruler were brought and the three sat down under the stars. The captain watched Ardumanish closely and spoke, "It is you who was right, my king. You saved the army."
The tired king considered this and shook his head, "No, Phrotas saved the army. He saved us all, but he couldn’t save himself. He will be buried next to my uncle and his family will want for nothing as long as I live."
Miles explained the Egyptian proposals as Ardumanish ate. Finally, both were finished. Ardumanish considered everything and spoke, "Agreed then. Tomorrow I will meet this general and there will be no more war between our two nations…ever." He looked up at the stars and added, "One of the first military books my father gave me was written by a great general from the east. In the margin of the last page my father had scribbled something that had always bewildered me…until now. He wrote that the only thing worse than fighting a great battle and dying, is fighting a great battle…and not dying."
Exhausted, Ardumanish closed his eyes and fell asleep. The captain put his robe over him and carried him to the king’s tent. Miles watched, as they vanished into the darkness and he was again alone under the stars.
The call of the vultures woke Ardumanish the next day. The captain had posted a guard to keep looters away from the dead, but this had proved unnecessary. Most of those who would have looted were themselves dead. Mass graves were dug as the vultures protested. The bodies of Bugiya and Phrotes were borne away and a few pyres were made with what wood could be found. Soon, only the stench remained.
Ardumanish and Miles spoke little as they prepared to go to the meeting with Knumhoptep. Miles felt that the king was exhausted, but relieved. A guard arrived with horses and just as the two mounted, the captain ran up to them. "Mighty One!" he yelled, "A herald has arrived."
He passed a scroll to the king and Ardumanish quickly took it. Trouble returned to his face as he read it. Finally, he spoke, "My uncle was a great military commander. He secretly had prepared for reinforcements to meet him here for the last drive into Egypt. They are less than a day’s ride away."
The captain grinned as he said, "My king, you have not signed the treaty yet. You needn’t trust this Egyptian. You can still finish their army without dishonor. Why, we could be on the Nile in a month!"
Ardumanish crushed the scroll in his hands and looked to Miles. Miles lowered his eyes and added, "He’s right, no agreement has been signed…yet."
Ardumanish thought quickly and spoke, "If I am fated to destroy this Egyptian, then I would at least like to meet him first."
The three rode with a small escort to a neutral area where a simple tent had been set. The Egyptian delegation had already arrived. Ardumanish went forward with Miles to a small table where the treaty lay. The Egyptian surgeon and General Knumhoptep also came forward. As was the custom, Ardumanish removed his sword and placed it flat on the table before him where a quill had been set, as Knumhoptep did the same. Miles and the surgeon reviewed the manuscript. He then nodded to the king that all was in order and laid the quill on the document.
The young king was unable to hide his concern as he spoke, "I am told that you speak my language."
Knumhoptep nodded, "Yes, after a fashion. My surgeon tells me that you have at least read our texts on healing."
Ardumanish replied, "I learned Egyptian so that I could read your poetry. My father gave me the medical texts so that I …could better heal the wounded."
Knumhoptep shrugged and added, "I see. I must also admit that I learned Parthian so that I might better know my foe. However, whatever language we use, there is still that which remains unspoken."
Ardumanish looked Knumhoptep in the eyes as he said flatly, "I am told that we are still at war until I sign this treaty."
"Yes that is correct," the Egyptian showed no emotion as he replied.
Ardumanish removed the crumpled message from his robe, as he said, "A great army draws near, with which I could easily destroy you."
Knumhoptep nodded, "Yes, I know. My scouts reported this to me."
"Yet, you came here anyway?" Ardumanish asked with a look of total surprise.
The general straightened his spine as he said, "It is my duty to Egypt to offer you this last chance for peace, even if I must die in the attempt."
Ardumanish remembered all the wounded that he had treated and all the dead that had been buried. He was almost sad as he said, "I am advised that I should not trust you."
Knumhoptep nodded, "I too have advisors. They tell me, that if you refuse our offer, I should not let you leave here…alive."
It seemed as though remorse was all that the two leaders had in common. Ardumanish slowly slid his fingers over the tabletop to his sword as Knumhoptep watched. One signal and the peace conference would be just another field of battle. Then Ardumanish exhaled slowly and picked up the quill as he said, "If I kill everyone that I should not trust, then why should any of the living ever trust me?" He signed the treaty and passed the quill to Knumhoptep.
The general signed and as they shook hands he said, "It is written that men are capable of great courage in the pursuit of war. Great men are capable of such courage, even in the pursuit of peace. Through this treaty, may our peoples prove their greatness."