Free Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) by Peter Darman

raising a force to secure Nergal’s southern flank.’
    ‘Surena, I had forgotten about him,’ she said. ‘I hope he repays the faith you have placed in him. I remain far from convinced. Still, at least Viper will be pleased to see him.’
    We said our farewells to Orodes, Rsan and Godarz on the palace steps. The courtyard was filled with mounted Amazons in their full war gear. In front of them Vagharsh, my Parthian standard bearer, sat on his horse, the griffin banner wrapped in a waxed canvas sleeve to keep it safe from the elements. Already the thousand Durans and thousand Exiles would be marching to the river where the rafts waited. Rsan was as punctilious as ever, bowing his head to me first and then to Gallia. Godarz embraced me and kissed Gallia on the cheek, while Orodes clasped my forearm.
    ‘If Dobbai is right then while we are fighting the soldiers of Charax Narses might try a strike against Dura,’ I said.
    ‘Do not worry, my friend,’ said Orodes, ‘I will deal with any threat to your city. Though I doubt that there will be any attack. As far as my dear step-brother and Narses are concerned, you are still at Dura.’
    He leaned in closer. ‘I do not wish to poor cold water on the visions of your sorceress, but what will you do if no threat to Uruk materialises?’
    I slapped him on the arm. ‘Then we will have a great feast in Nergal’s palace and afterwards return home.’
    A stable hand brought Remus to the foot of the steps, another holding the reins of Epona, Gallia’s mare. I walked down the steps and slipped my bow into the leather case attached to the four-horned padded saddle, my quiver holding thirty arrows slung over my shoulder, another two attached to my saddle. I took the reins of my white stallion and vaulted into the saddle. It was early but already warm, the sky blue and cloudless. It would be a hot day. Remus flicked his tail impatiently as I adjusted my helmet and Gallia mounted Epona behind me. I might have fooled the citizens of Dura into believing that I was going on exercise but Remus sensed otherwise. He was a veteran of many campaigns and knew the difference between exercises and the real thing. I patted his neck.
    ‘Easy boy.’
    He snorted and scraped at the stone flagstones, eager to be away.
    ‘Your horse appreciates the urgency of the situation.’
    I recognised the voice of Dobbai who walked from behind Remus.
    ‘I leave my daughter in your care,’ I said to her.
    ‘Your daughter is in the care of the gods, son of Hatra, but rest assured that she is perfectly safe in this stronghold.’
    I nodded at her and tugged on Remus’ reins, wheeling him to the left. Gallia rode Epona to my side and together we trotted from the Citadel, a guard of honour from the Durans standing to attention as we passed them and rode through the gates. Immediately behind us came Vagharsh and then a hundred Amazons riding two abreast. We rode down the city’s main street towards the Palmyrene Gate. Already the streets were beginning to fill with citizens going about their business as well as those who crewed the trade caravans wishing to visit the markets, eating and drinking places or the city’s brothels. Everyone on the road parted as our column of riders approached, many raising their arms to cheer as we passed.
    Even with my Roman officer’s helmet covering my face everyone recognised Remus, the white stallion who had travelled back with me from Italy. Some said that he flew across the ocean with wings given to him by the gods, which were invisible to mortal eyes. I drew my spatha , the Roman two-edged sword that was a gift from Spartacus, and saluted the stone griffin as I passed beneath it and exited the city. Gallia did the same, as did the Amazons, for everyone knew that no army would take Dura Europos while the griffin remained above the gates of the city. I slid the sword back in its scabbard and regarded my armour. It too was Roman, a gift from an old friend I had fought beside