Stomach growling, he resisted the urge to pile a piping-hot spoonful into his mouth. He was hungry but not burn his mouth hungry. Tigran wasn’t as wise and cursed as he fanned air into his mouth to cool the hot rice and salt pork scalding his tongue. Lucius tried to keep his laugh from escaping, not wanting to bruise the boy’s ego, but the corners of his lips twitched erratically, sparking a snigger from Ariazate that caused his guffaw to finally slip out. Tigran tried to pout, but the laughter was too much for him, and he joined in sheepishly.
The brief silliness eased some of the tension from his shoulders and allowed for his bowl to cool enough so he could dive in. He finished it quickly. When Ariazate offered him a second bowl, he refused at first, not wanting to take any of their food despite his hunger. However, she insisted, and he didn’t wish to insult her or damage the first delicate notes of friendship he could sense growing between the three of them.
While they ate, Ariazate and Tigran continued Lucius’s lesson in Armenian. He enjoyed his time with the siblings. He’d had none of his own and spent most of his later adolescence in the company of military veterans until he left for the legions. It felt nice to develop a relationship with someone who wasn’t a commanding officer or a subordinate. After he finished his second bowl, he thanked Ariazate and dismissed himself so he could check in on Syphax and whatever news he might have regarding their plans.
They’d marched hard the next three days, going late into the night and risking a quick camp in favor of increasing the distance between themselves and the large force of Parthians trailing them. By the time they reached the narrow pass Tiridat had suggested, they’d gained another day, possibly a day and a half of extra time.
Three days was more than enough time for the Romans to establish a fort and the surrounding defense works. There were few militaries who could build forts as quickly as the Romans could. They’d used every minute of the extra time, preparing to meet their enemy. The narrow gap in the trail was ideal for their needs. The legionnaires worked feverishly, chopping down trees for walls and stakes and digging trenches. By the time they’d finished, they had thick walls with platforms for the legionnaires, a trio of ballistae, and rows of deep trenches lined with sharpened stakes. They were outnumbered, but Parthian cavalry wasn’t an ideal force for attacking Roman fortifications.
The Parthians had to know something lurked ahead of them, but as best as Lucius and Syphax figured, none of their advanced scouting parties were returning to reveal a heavily fortified force, dug in and ready to do battle.
After making his final inspections the night before the coming battle, Lucius joined the Armenians for another simple meal and language lessons. This time, the siblings played for a while after they’d emptied their bowls. Lucius, laying on his back and smiling, let their songs and melodies push his cares aside until it was time for the last meeting with Syphax.
Lucius woke to the sound of the cornicen blowing the signal to wake and ready for battle. In a matter of minutes, Lucius was fully dressed, armored, armed, and out the tent when he overheard Ariazate and Tigran arguing.
“Tigran, you can’t…fight. You’re…young. You’ll get killed!” Ariazate said in Armenian.
Lucius, picking up enough of the words, changed direction and found them outside their tent. Tigran had a scabbarded sword in his hand; he tried to hold it away from his sister who was grabbing for it.
“How can I be a king…if I…in a tent with my sister?” he replied, his voice cracking.
“Tigi, hush,” Zati hissed, looking around frantically. As Lucius turned the corner, her eyes went wide with shock as she was temporarily robbed of words.
At the sudden change, Tigi stopped struggling and followed her gaze, his face going pale when he saw Lucius. Before he could respond, Ariazate stepped around her brother and placed herself between him and Lucius. Her dark brown eyes, vulnerable and pleading, bored into Lucius.
Lucius clenched his jaw and flexed his cheek muscles. Licking his lips, he took a step forward.
“I don’t know what you were arguing about. I didn’t hear the details.” He ensured he held Ariazate’s gaze. “But this is not the time or place for such arguments.” Turning to Tigran, he added, “No one here is doubting your bravery, Tigran, but this isn’t the kind of battle you’re ready for yet. It’s going to be harsh and bloody, and it’s going to take the discipline of hardened professionals to get out of this alive. When your time comes to stand in battle, I’ll fight by your side, but today, I need you to stay with your sister and protect her.”
Ariazate turned to face her brother. “Please, Tigran. I’d be too scared without you here to watch over me.”
The three of them knew Ariazate was tough and could take care of herself, but it was a fiction that let Tigran withdraw from his bellicose offer with dignity intact.
“Please, Tigran,” Zati pleaded.
He nodded slowly then looked up to Lucius. “If that’s where you think I’ll do the most good, then I’ll do my duty.”
Lucius smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “Ariazate, would you walk with me for a minute?”
In answer, she fell in behind him as they walked away from her brother and their tent. Lucius kept silent as he moved away from the bulk of the activity. Ariazate started to speak several times, stopping before she even managed a full syllable. When Lucius finally felt they’d gone far enough for a bit of privacy, he stopped and turned around.
Finding her courage, she straightened her spine and held her head regally. “I don’t know what you heard—”
Lucius held up a hand to interrupt her. He’d vowed to protect them, even if that meant from themselves. He had no idea if what the boy had let slip was true, but it didn’t matter. Accusations like that needed little evidence when a dagger and a few spades of dirt would solve the problem of inconvenient rivals. “I didn’t hear anything that needs repeating to anyone else. Understand? But I suggest you counsel your brother to be more careful with his words. There are a lot of ears, and not all of them here are friendly.”
She nodded hesitantly then with more force as she took in his words.
“Now listen, I want you and your brother to break down your tent and pack your things. You can stay in my tent. I think we’re in a strong position, and we should be able to hold the Parthians off, but I don’t want to gamble with your lives.” He explained where their pileus hats were and the gold that had been entrusted into Lucius’s care for the siblings. “I don’t know if you were told you’d get your freedom, but you will. If things go bad, hide in the mountains until the Parthians move on. If they found you, your association with us would spell your doom. If any of the legionnaires question you, tell them you are under my protection and are obeying my orders.”
Ariazate stood in silence for a moment then threw her arms around Lucius. Shocked by the sudden display, it took Lucius a moment to respond and fold her into the hug.
“Thank you, Lucius,” she said.
“Hey, you didn’t call me ‘Roman.’ Does that mean you actually like me?” Lucius teased.
“Don’t push your luck, Roman.” She smiled up at him and stepped back. “May fortune watch over you.”
“Ariazate. It has been a pleasure getting to know you. If I don’t see you again, good luck.”
She gave him a half-smile filled with the nerves they both felt about the coming battle and potential repercussions. He watched as she returned to her tent and her brother, not looking back at Lucius. It was the best he could do for them right now, even if it felt inadequate. Two Armenian children couldn’t balance the scales against all the lives he’d taken in service to his empire, but it was something he could do—give them a plan and chance. Though he hoped they didn’t need the plan, it settled his mind to not have their dubious safety niggling at the back of his mind, not when he was about to go into battle against the dangerous Parthians.
NINE
Lucius stared over the trail approaching their fort, waiting for the Parthians to come into range. The scouts had reported sightings of their advanced force all morning. The Parthians knew the Romans had blocked the narrow pass, leaving only steep wooded hills and mountainsides on one side and a cliff on the other. Unless they turned around, Lucius would be called on to draw his blade to defend himself and his comrades.
A faint sound drifted on the breeze. Quirking his ear to the side, he heard the far-off note of a horn. A few moments later, a steady drumbeat joined it.
“Finally,” someone down the line said.
Silently, Lucius agreed with them. The anticipation was almost worse than the actual fighting. Leaning forward, he squinted, using his hand to block the low glare from the gray sky. A pair of riders flew around the corner side by side. Once they approached the designated lane, they moved into single file.
“Gates,” Lucius called.
Below him, the legionnaires operating the gates swung them open in time for the two riders to make it through, then closed and barred them once again. Lucius made it down the ladder just as they dismounted. They saluted.
