Fire in the East by Harry Sidebottom Page B

across the desert via Palmyra to Emesa and on to the west. It might be chance. A woman from the family of the priest-kings had married a senator called Septimius Severus, and he had later, quite unexpectedly, become emperor. Her sons had inherited the throne. Once a town has produced a couple of emperors, it feels it should produce more. It might be Roman failings. When Rome could not protect her from the Persians, the rich, confident, god-loved town of Emesa had to look to her own salvation.
    The pretenders were all from different branches of the same family of priest-kings. You could see why the emperors had chosen to elevate this Sampsigeramus to the throne of Emesa. Surely if anyone in this extended family of turbulent priests would cause no trouble it was this ineffectual, mincing little man? But now he seemed to be acting true to his line: in these troubled times Emesa could not spare any men to defend Arete, a town far away and probably already doomed - but the brave men of Emesa would always answer Elagabalus’s call in a just cause with a hope of success. There had been vague but not very veiled implications of revolution in the god’s message to Ballista- ‘the ordered world will become disordered ... a dark-skinned reptile ... raging against the Romans ... a sideways-walking goat’ - probably treasonous, although the obscurity of the prophetic language might make that hard to prove.
    The reptile was, presumably, the Persian king. Was the goat meant to be Ballista himself? They could have come up with a rather more impressive animal, say a lion or a boar. It mattered little. He would write to the emperors with his suspicions. Despite Sampsigeramus’s insinuations, Ballista doubted they would think him already implicated.
    Allfather knew what sort of chaos they would find at the Palmyrene Gate. Yesterday, Ballista had agreed to a caravan owned by a merchant from Arete travelling with them. Turpio had strongly urged it. The merchant, larhai, was one of the leading men of Arete. It would be unwise to offend him. While it might avoid offence (had that bastard Turpio taken a bribe?), it would almost certainly cause confusion and delay, with camels, horses and civilians wandering all over the road.
    The sky was a delicate pink. The few clouds were lit from underneath by the rising sun. Mamurra was standing in the middle of the road, waiting.
    ‘How is it looking, Praefectus? ’
    ‘Good, Dominus. We are ready to march.’ Mamurra had the air of wanting to say more. Ballista waited, nothing happened.
    ‘What is it, Praefectus?’
    ‘It is the caravan, Dominus.’ Mamurra appeared troubled. ‘They are not merchants. They are soldiers.’
    ‘From what unit?’
    ‘They are not from a unit. They are mercenaries - part of the private army of this man larhai.’ Mamurra’s almost square face looked baffled. ‘Turpio ... he said he would explain.’
    Surprisingly, Turpio looked, if anything, slightly less defensive than usual. There was even the hint of a smile. ‘It is quite legal,’ he said. ‘All the governors of Syria have allowed it. The great men of Arete owe their position to protecting caravans across the deserts. They hire mercenaries.’ It was unlikely that the man was telling a straightforward lie.
    ‘I have never heard of this, or anything like it,’ said Ballista.
    ‘It happens in Palmyra as well. It is part of what makes these two cities so different from anywhere else.’ Turpio smiled openly. ‘I am sure that larhai will explain more eloquently how it all works. He is waiting to meet you at the head of the column. I persuaded Mamurra it would be best if larhai’s men led the way; they know the desert roads.’
    Turpio and Mamurra mounted and fell in on either side of Ballista. With his bodyguard and secretary just behind, he set off at a loose canter. The white draco whipped above their heads. Ballista was bloody furious.
    As they passed, men from Cohors XX called out the sort of well-omened