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should you so wish,’ I said suddenly to Nergal and Praxima.
    They both looked at me in confusion, as did the others.
    ‘We have our own home now, Pacorus,’ said Nergal, ‘but I thank you for the offer.’
    ‘A strange thing to say,’ remarked Gafarn, his lean features illuminated by the torches that flickered on the wall behind us.
    ‘I don’t trust Mithridates, that is all,’ I answered.
    ‘Who does?’ said Gafarn.
    ‘Pacorus is worried that Mithridates will attack Uruk instead of Dura. Is it not so?’ Gallia stated bluntly.
    Nergal seemed unconcerned, shovelling some spiced rice into his mouth.
    ‘If he does then Uruk’s walls are high and strong and he possesses no siege engines. The city is well stocked with provisions to withstand a siege until our allies arrive.’
    ‘I can be at Uruk in two weeks,’ I reassured him.
    Gafarn took a sip of his wine. ‘Pacorus, have you ever considered that Mithridates may not even give your existence a passing thought?’
    I looked at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘It’s quite simple. He has achieved his lifelong ambition of becoming king of kings and has the allegiance of most of the kings in the empire.’
    ‘Half,’ I corrected him.
    He held up a hand to me. ‘Have it your own way. But the fact remains that he is high king, the other kings of the empire either support him or tolerate him but all wish to avoid any further bloodshed.’
    ‘Except Pacorus,’ said Gallia.
    ‘Except Pacorus,’ agreed Gafarn. ‘If you ignore him then I can assure you that he will ignore you.’
    Gafarn looked at Nergal. ‘And you, my friend. I do not wish to offend your new kingdom but Mesene has always been regarded as a poor relation among the empire’s family of kings.’
    ‘Not all that glitters is gold, my love,’ said Diana.
    ‘Wise words,’ I said.
    ‘We would not swap Uruk for all the gold in Ctesiphon,’ said Praxima defiantly.
    I smiled. Same old Praxima – wild and fierce. No wonder Gallia had chosen her to be second-in-command of the Amazons.
    ‘My point is,’ continued Gafarn, ‘that Mithridates has no interest in raising an army to try and subdue Dura or Mesene. He would rather sit on his throne and receive slavish homage from his army of courtiers, concubines and eunuchs at Ctesiphon. I am sure he is mindful of the fate of other kings who have challenged you in battle, such as Porus and Chosroes.’
    ‘He’s right, Pacorus,’ said Nergal.
    Gafarn wore a smug smile. ‘I usually am.’
    Nergal and Praxima left early the next morning, their escort of a hundred horse archers drawn up in the courtyard as we said our goodbyes on the palace steps.
    I embraced Praxima and Nergal.
    ‘If you need me just send word,’ I told him.
    He smiled and shook his head. ‘You worry too much. But do not leave it too long before you and Gallia visit us.’
    The Mesenian camp had been pitched outside the city where the rest of Nergal’s horse archers and the camels loaded with tents and supplies were waiting. They would cross the pontoon bridge and travel back to Uruk along the eastern bank of the Euphrates. At a leisurely pace of around twenty miles a day it would take them fifteen days.
    Domitus and Godarz were also present to bid farewell to their friends, a colour party of the Durans arrayed in front of the treasury and headquarters building in the courtyard. Its golden griffin shone in the early morning sunlight as Nergal and Praxima rode from the Citadel.
    Gafarn and Diana left an hour later, Gallia sharing a tearful farewell with her friend on the palace steps. Diana kissed Claudia and then embraced me as their escort rode into the courtyard. My father had given them two companies of Hatra’s cataphracts: two hundred men and horses encased in gleaming scale armour, burnished helmets glinting in the sun and every one sporting a red plume. Each rider carried a long lance called a kontus that had a vicious point and a steel butt spike. There was no wind and