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across.’
    ‘Not only Romani,’ said Byrd.
    ‘Who else?’ I asked in alarm.
    ‘King Sampsiceramus of Emesa.’
    He may have had a ridiculously long name but Sampsiceramus ruled a prosperous kingdom, made rich by the profits of the Silk Road. When Pompey had conquered Syria and Judea the ruler of Emesa had thrown in his lot with the Romans, becoming their client king. Located on the eastern bank of the River Orontes and close to the Mediterranean coast, the city of Emesa was around a hundred miles west of where I was sitting and the destination of the trade caravans once they had passed through Palmyra. From there they travelled either north to Roman Syria or south to Egypt.
    ‘He provides slingers, archers and spearmen for Romani,’ continued Byrd. ‘Haytham should have waited for your archers,’ he finished glumly.
    If Haytham engaged the Romans and their allies before I reached him then he would be at a great disadvantage when it came to missile power for the Agraci horsemen had few archers and no slingers.
    ‘Who else is with the Romans?’ I asked, hoping the answer would be Mithridates.
    Byrd knew what I was alluding to and smiled. ‘He and his mother still at Antioch, so my spies tell me.’
    I heard horses’ hooves outside and moments later Rasha burst into our company. She was now on the verge of womanhood and her body had become more curvy and her face more attractive. Gone was the young girl I had first encountered when I arrived at Dura. In her place was a raven-haired beauty. I stood and was nearly toppled over as she threw her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.
    ‘Greetings little princess,’ I said, though she was nearly as tall as me now and in a couple of years would no doubt surpass my height.
    ‘Where’s Gallia?’ she asked, looking around before kissing Noora and then Byrd.
    ‘She will be here soon.’
    ‘And then we will go and fight the enemy,’ she beamed.
    ‘And then you will stay here,’ commanded Byrd. ‘Your father has enough to worry about without his daughter getting into trouble.’
    Rasha stuck her tongue out at him and Noora laughed. How great was Byrd’s influence among the Agraci that Haytham himself would trust him with the life of his daughter and the safekeeping of his city.
    The next day Rasha was thrilled when Gallia rode into Palmyra at the head of the Amazons and twenty thousand horse archers. As usual the latter were led by the old brawler Spandarat, who was itching for a fight. Byrd wanted to give a great feast to celebrate the arrival of Gallia and my lords but I declined the offer. For one thing I did not want Spandarat and his fellow nobles getting roaring drunk and being unfit for duty the next day. So he went to bed an unhappy man but at least woke without a hangover and was in the saddle before dawn to ride alongside Gallia, Vagises and me as we headed west into the desert across the rock and gravel steppe. It was already hot and everyone was wearing either floppy hats or head cloths, their helmets dangling from the horns of their saddles.
    Five hours after leaving Palmyra I saw a great dust cloud on the horizon and ordered a halt.
    ‘Is it a sandstorm?’ asked Vagises.
    I shook my head. I had seen many sandstorms during my life, had observed the terrifying orange-brown wall of sand come out of the desert, the bottom of which appeared to contain millions of desert flies. The wall of sand could be up to a mile high and swallow whole towns and cities in its path. The storms could last for hours, days or even weeks but this was not one. This dust cloud was too sparse and immobile: the particles were being kicked up by thousands of horses and men. We had found Haytham and the Romans.
    I gave the order to deploy into battle formation: a thousand of Dura’s archers on the left wing, another thousand on the right and the remainder in the centre with the Amazons. The lords were deployed behind the centre – twenty blocks of horsemen numbering a