Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) by Peter Darman Read Free Book Online Page A

to me.
    ‘The gods warn you of great danger, son of Hatra. You must act quickly.’
    ‘The army is liked a coiled cobra, ready to strike,’ I reassured her. ‘If Narses dares show his face it and I will be ready and waiting.’
    She clenched the coin in her fist. ‘He will not come here but he will strike at you, son of Hatra.’
    She turned and walked back to the stone steps.
    ‘I will dispose of this coin. It is evil and should not be allowed to remain inside this city.’
    ‘Give it to Rsan,’ I told her.
    She stopped and turned to face me. ‘No. It must be taken to the river and cast into the water so it will travel south and return to the lair of its master.’
    The voyage of Dobbai down the Euphrates on a small fishing vessel was one of the few highlights of that week. There is a small harbour at the base of the rock escarpment upon which the Citadel sits and mostly it is occupied by a handful of fishing boats. Those who worked on the river usually hauled their vessels onto the riverbank at the end of the day. But on the day Dobbai took Narses’ gold coin downriver the harbour was packed with boats, all filled with people who had paid to accompany Dura’s famous sorceress on her mysterious journey. I did not know how they had found out about the coin or Dobbai’s intentions, though palaces are notorious places for gossip, but whatever the reason dozens of boats followed the one that contained her as it cut through the calm, blue waters. Gallia was on the same boat along with the half a dozen legionaries that Domitus insisted should guard the queen. I did not go, preferring to stay in the palace. I thought the whole thing nonsense and merely designed to increase Dobbai’s reputation as a weaver of magic.
    When she returned she insisted that she see me. I had been visiting Domitus in the legionary camp when a courier on horseback arrived from the Citadel with a message that war was upon us.
    ‘Who sent this message?’ I asked the man, one of Dura’s horse archers dressed in a loose white tunic, baggy brown leggings and boots.
    ‘Your sorceress, majesty.’
    Domitus groaned. ‘Best ignore her, Pacorus. She probably wants to tell you about a fish she caught during her trip on the river.’
    We were in his large command tent in the centre of the camp, which was modelled on the Roman equivalent. The only difference being that there were no granaries in Dura’s camp. They were located in the city. But there were workshops and a hospital where Alcaeus, the wiry haired Greek physician who headed the army’s medical corps, could usually be found.
    I picked up my helmet. ‘The one thing I have learned since coming to Dura, Domitus, is that it is unwise to ignore Dobbai’s prophecies. Surely you have not forgotten the sandstorm that she foretold?’
    When the army had been preparing to march north to intercept a Roman army commanded by Pompey, Dobbai had ridden to the legionary camp and ordered that everyone should seek refuge in the city. Domitus had been enraged and had threatened to kill her, but changed his mind when a fearsome sandstorm descended on Dura and battered the city for days.
    The commander of the army now appeared disinterested.
    ‘Just humour her. I’m sure that will do the trick.’
    I nodded at him and walked to the tent’s entrance. The courier stood where he was, looking sheepishly at me.
    ‘There is something else, majesty.’
    ‘Well spit it out, then,’ commanded Domitus.
    The courier stared directly ahead. ‘Your sorceress said that General Domitus should also attend her in the palace.’
    ‘Looks like you are coming with me,’ I grinned.
    Domitus sighed and stood, picking up his helmet. He ambled up to the courier.
    ‘The old witch called me general?’
    The courier swallowed. ‘Not exactly, lord.’
    ‘So what did she say, exactly?’
    The man squirmed and swallowed again. ‘That the king should bring the Roman with him.’
    Domitus laughed. ‘Well, then, let’s go and