Free Parthian Dawn by Peter Darman Page A

but I have a new life.’
    I looked around his miserable quarters and his threadbare clothes. I could not believe that he was happy living such an existence, and then I remembered that the Romans had killed his family in Cappadocia when he had been away on the road selling pots. Perhaps he felt guilty that he had lived and they had died. Maybe living in misery was his way of atoning for the wrong that he felt he had committed, but perhaps I was thinking gibberish.
    ‘We miss you, Byrd,’ I said absently.
    ‘Who “we”, lord?’
    ‘Well, Gallia for one, and Diana and Gafarn.’
    A smile spread across his lean face. ‘They are fine people. And the child, it thrives?’
    ‘He thrives. He is strong, just like his father.’
    ‘And Gallia, she is well?’
    I drained my cup. ‘Strong, proud and defiant as ever, Byrd, just like in Italy.’
    ‘I came to temple when you were married. She very beautiful woman.’
    ‘You were at my wedding, why didn’t you come to the banquet afterwards?’
    ‘I stay at back of temple, lord, make no fuss.’
    I laid a hand on his arm. ‘There are no barriers between those who served Spartacus, my friend, always remember that. It matters not if you are a king or a pauper; those of us who were in Italy are brothers. Nothing will ever change that. Please think about my offer.’
    I took the purse hanging from my belt. ‘Take this. There is enough money for you to purchase a good horse and a saddle. We leave for Dura the day after tomorrow. I would feel a lot safer knowing that you are with us.’
    He shook his head. ‘Hatra not like Italy, lord, no Romani here.’
    I stood up and we shook hands.
    ‘Please give the matter some thought, Byrd. If you decide to stay, then please go to the palace and see Gafarn and Diana from time to time.’
    ‘They stay in Hatra?’
    ‘Yes, my mother likes having a young child in the palace, and everyone loves Diana too much to see her go.’
    ‘It will be hard on Gallia to leave her friend.’
    ‘It will.’ I pointed at him. ‘That is why your presence is all the more important. She will want as many of her old friends around her as possible.’
    I walked back to the palace not knowing if I had convinced him, but hoping I had said enough, if only to give him a better life. But then, perhaps he was contented.
    ‘So, will he come?’
    Gallia was checking her bow and the arrows in her quiver and her mail shirt was hanging on a wooden frame by the side of our large bed.
    I shrugged. ‘You know Byrd, he’s a law unto himself.’
    She pulled her sword from its sheath. Like mine it was a Roman cavalry weapon called a spatha . Its blade was straight and each edge was sharpened. My spatha had been a gift from Spartacus and was one of my most treasured possessions. My most treasured possession was standing next to me, examining the razor-sharp edges on her own sword.
    ‘You said he was selling pots.’ She gingerly stroked one of the edges with a finger, smiling in approval at its lethality.
    ‘That’s right, down in the south of the city, in one of the less salubrious districts.’
    ‘You should have commanded him to come.’ She slammed her sword back in its scabbard.
    ‘And you think he would have obeyed?’
    She looked at me. ‘Of course not, but it would have got you used to issuing commands. Isn’t that what kings do?’
    I ignored her jibe. ‘In any case, I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want to be with us. How do you feel about Diana staying here?’
    She pulled her dagger from its sheath and examined its blade. ‘I will miss her, but she likes it here and everyone adores her, especially your mother. I think she sees the baby as a sort of grandchild. And knowing that Diana is happy and safe is a weight off my mind.’ She giggled. ‘Who would have thought it, a Roman kitchen slave who has become a princess? It’s a strange world.’
    A loud knock on the door startled us. ‘Lord king, a courier has arrived with a package for you. He