a son, would have to pay for his failures. Meeting soon after joining Crassus’ army, a close friendship had sprung up between the three. Thanks to the accuracy of his divinations, the others had come to trust Tarquinius utterly. After Carrhae, when escape under the cover of darkness had been an option, they had followed his lead and stayed, blindly pinning their fates to his. Both still looked to him for guidance. It cannot end here or now, Tarquinius thought fiercely. It must not.
‘So be it,’ he cried, using his best prophetic tones. ‘Mithras will give me a sign.’
Romulus’ and Brennus’ heads whipped around, and Tarquinius saw the hope flare in both their faces. Especially in that of Romulus.
Taking some solace from this, he waited.
Pacorus bared his teeth expectantly. ‘Follow me,’ he said, placing his foot on the first step.
Without the slightest pause, Tarquinius stepped after him.
Just one hulking warrior, Pacorus’ personal bodyguard, took up the rear. In his right hand was a ready dagger.
The party of guards fanned out, planting their torches in specially placed gaps in the paving stones. An ash-filled ring fireplace was evidence that they, or others, had stood here before. Romulus was still amazed by the manner of Pacorus’ and Tarquinius’ disappearance. He had noticed the large, shaped slabs but not fully appreciated that they formed an entrance. Now, with the whole scene relatively well lit, Romulus saw the carved drawings on either side of the hole. Excited, he began to understand. This was a temple, to Mithras.
And Tarquinius seemed sure that something would be revealed inside.
Desperate to know more, he moved to follow the haruspex, but half a dozen Parthians blocked his way.
‘Nobody else goes down there,’ growled one. ‘The Mithraeum is hallowed ground. Filth such as you are not welcome.’
‘All men are equal in Mithras’ eyes,’ Romulus challenged, remembering what Tarquinius had told him. ‘And I am a soldier.’
The Parthian looked nonplussed. ‘The commander decides who may enter,’ he barked eventually. ‘And you two weren’t mentioned.’
‘So we just wait?’ demanded Romulus, his temper rising.
‘That’s right,’ replied the warrior, taking a step forward. Several of the others copied him, their hands falling to their quivers. ‘We all stay here until Pacorus says so. Clear?’
They glared at each other. Although the Parthians and the legionaries had now fought together a number of times, there was little love lost between the captors and captives. As far as the Romans were concerned, there never would be. Romulus felt the same way. These men had helped slaughter his comrades at Carrhae.
He felt Brennus’ arm on his. ‘Leave it,’ said the Gaul calmly. ‘Now’s not the time.’
Brennus’ intervention was a simple gut reaction. Over the previous four years, Romulus had become like a son to him. Since they had been thrown together, the Gaul had found his own tortured existence much easier. Romulus provided him with a reason not to die. And now, thanks to Brennus’ repetitive and unrelenting training, the seventeen-year-old was a skilful fighter. Tarquinius’ efforts meant that Romulus was also well educated; he could even read and write. It was only occasionally, when he was severely provoked, that Romulus’ temper got the better of him. I was like that once, Brennus thought.
Taking a deep breath, Romulus stalked off, leaving the Parthian smirking at his companions. He hated always having to back down. Especially when he had the chance of witnessing something so important. But, as usual, walking away was the prudent choice. ‘Why did Tarquinius bother dragging us along?’
‘Back-up.’
‘Against whom? Those miserable dogs?’ Incredulously, Romulus indicated the Parthians. ‘There are twenty of them. With bows.’
‘Bad odds, it’s true,’ shrugged the Gaul. ‘He doesn’t have anyone else to ask, though.’
‘It’s more than that,’ Romulus shot back. ‘Tarquinius must have a reason. We need to be here.’
Brennus turned his blond shaggy head this way and that, taking in the barren landscape. It was vanishing into the darkness of another bitter night. ‘I don’t know what,’ he concluded. ‘This is a godforsaken spot. Nothing out here but dirt and rocks.’
Romulus was about to agree when his attention was caught by two spots of light reflecting the radiance from the torches. He froze, squinting into the gloom. At the limit of his vision was a jackal, watching them. Motionless, only the creature’s bright eyes revealed that it was not a statue. ‘We’re not alone,’ he hissed delightedly. ‘There! Look.’
Brennus smiled proudly at the sharp observation. An expert hunter himself, he had missed seeing the small predator. This was becoming more