Apollonius swallowed and cleared his throat. ‘Wouldn’t you agree, they’re treating us well?’
‘I suppose so,’ Cato replied. While he and Apollonius were well looked after, the rest of the Praetorians were kept in one of the rooms in the barracks attached to the palace. Although they were fed and allowed out into the yard to exercise for an hour early in the morning and again in the evening, that was as far as their liberty extended. Still, Cato concluded, they were alive, and the men who had been wounded in the skirmish were recovering thanks to the skilled ministrations of the palace physician. The only man’s fate he had any doubt over was Flaminius. The Parthians had not mentioned him, so Cato assumed that his slave had made good his escape. For the same reason, he had told his men not to mention Flaminius, in case he was still at large.
‘I just wonder,’ he continued. ‘Are we guests, hostages or prisoners? Or condemned men?’
‘That depends on how Vologases reacts to the news of our embassy. If he has already decided on going to war with Rome, then our little band is going to be superfluous. In which case, if the whim takes him, he might send our heads back to Corbulo as a statement of his intentions. I doubt we’d be much use to him as hostages, given that Rome has a long tradition of demanding hostages rather than providing them. The best we could hope for is to be kept alive for any future exchange of prisoners. But if Vologases has an appetite for peace, I am confident we will be accorded the treatment appropriate to our diplomatic status. In the meantime, do try one of these figs, they’re quite delicious.’
Apollonius picked up the silver bowl and offered it to Cato. With a sigh, he took one and gently tore off a segment of the succulent fruit, chewing it thoughtfully. The agent was right, the fig was delicious. Just as delicious as the rest of the food they were served. In the same way that their rooms were comfortable and the clothes they were given to wear were finely made. But none of it changed the fact that they were caught in a gilded cage, awaiting the judgement of King Vologases.
Cato was restless by nature and found this enforced life of leisure something of a trial, even though it was less than a month since they had been forced to surrender to one of Haghrar’s war bands. He had asked the nobleman’s steward if he might be permitted something to read, but Haghrar had given strict orders that most of his library was out of bounds, lest the Romans use it to harvest intelligence about the lands of the Parthian empire. Only the shelves of poetry and philosophy were made available.
‘What do you make of our host?’ asked Cato.
They had encountered Haghrar on a handful of occasions since they had reached the city and been brought before him. The nobleman had far lighter skin than most Parthians Cato had seen, and had addressed them in fluent Greek. It was likely that he was directly descended from the lieutenants of Alexander the Great, who had divided their king’s empire between them after his death. As their influence waned and that of Parthia grew, some of the former Greek kingdoms had fallen into the orbit of the new power in the region. Haghrar had listened to Cato’s explanation for his presence in Parthian territory and examined the document prepared by General Corbulo, before announcing that he would hold the Romans at Ichnae and send a message to King Vologases to ask for instructions. Since then, they had come across the nobleman walking through his gardens. On each occasion, Haghrar had merely asked politely after their health and comfort before moving on.
Apollonius looked round warily to make sure they would not be overheard, but there was only a slave watering some broad-leafed plants in large decorated pots fifty feet away. Reassured, he took another fig and chewed on it as he considered his response.
‘Hard to say, given how little we have seen of him. But I find it interesting that he felt obliged to refer the matter to Vologases before taking any action. He is even wary of treating us too harshly or with too much cordiality. As if he knows he is being watched and reported on.’ Apollonius stroked his top lip as he stared at the bowl of figs on the small table between their couches. ‘I think it tells us a lot about the way Vologases rules his empire.’
Cato nodded. ‘Which raises the question, are his nobles too cowed to act independently? What if they secretly wish to free themselves from such a tyrant?’
‘That’s two questions,’ Apollonius observed flatly without looking up.
Cato had grown accustomed to some of his companion’s idiosyncrasies since they had set out from Tarsus, and let the remark pass without comment.
‘I wonder,’ Apollonius resumed, ‘if our host might be the kind of man who could be persuaded to detach himself from such a master. It would be interesting to discover what it might take to turn him against Vologases.’
‘It would need more than just one noble to undermine the king.’
‘True, and if our host is entertaining doubts about his loyalty to Vologases, he might well be sending feelers out to others to gauge their thoughts on the matter.’ Apollonius looked up suddenly and gave Cato his habitual wry smile, which implied he was already two or three steps ahead of the tribune. ‘However, that is all mere supposition. No more than wishful thinking, unless we can find out more.’
‘Well, we’re hardly in a position to do that, are we?’ Cato pointed out.
‘Not at the moment, no.’
Cato folded his hands together and leaned forward to rest his chin on them as he scrutinised the agent.
‘What?’ Apollonius arched an eyebrow.
‘I was asking myself, once again, just what is the true purpose of your assignment to the embassy?’
‘The general told you. I’m here to act as your guide and adviser. That’s all.’
‘I am having a hard time believing that.’
Apollonius affected an offended grimace. ‘I’d hoped you would have a little more trust in me after all this time. I have not given you cause to suspect me of any wrongdoing. And it was me who saved our necks when the Parthians trapped us. A man might expect a little gratitude for that deed. I can’t help your suspicious nature, Tribune Cato. But then, perhaps your cynical inclinations have served you well in the past. You strike me as the kind of man who takes very little at face value and constantly questions the actions of others, questioning himself most of all. That may well account for your success in life. There are men – rather more than is healthy for Rome – who assume they have the answers simply because they lack the intellect to ask pertinent questions. Such men are fools. As are those who crave the reassurance of blindly following such fools.’ He returned Cato’s stare with a shrewd expression. ‘But you are different. Aren’t you? I can see it, and I can see that you know it to be true. And that is why Corbulo picked you for the embassy, and why he picked me to accompany you. We are more alike than you are happy to admit.’
Cato did not reply. He did not like the idea that anyone could see into his thoughts. It made him feel vulnerable and open to being manipulated. Nor did he like the notion that he was a kindred spirit of Apollonius. And then, as if to confirm what the other man had deduced, he wondered why he might resent such a comparison. The answer that came to him, just as irritatingly, was that he disliked the man precisely because he recognised in him much of what he disliked in himself, namely that impatience with men less able than himself, and it was easier to focus that dislike on the agent instead. He sighed with frustration.
Apollonius’s knowing smile appeared on his face once again. ‘I’m right about you, aren’t I? Don’t take it too badly, Tribune. It’s my job to look into the hearts and minds of men. Sometimes it’s a bit of a challenge. But not in your case. You wear your integrity and intellect like medals. Which is also why Corbulo picked you. It’s important that the Parthians believe what you say when you negotiate with Vologases.’
‘If we get to negotiate with him.’
‘Yes. If. And while you are doing the talking, I’ll be watching the other side like a hawk and reading their reactions. Then
we’ll know which men stand with their king, and which men we can play to our advantage. And that’s the real purpose of my being sent into Parthia with you. Happy now?’
‘I am hardly in any position to be happy,’ Cato replied. ‘But being better informed is preferable to ignorance.’
‘So it is.’
‘Then let’s just hope you get the chance to look into our host’s heart and mind sometime soon,’ Cato concluded as he rose from the couch. ‘Now, I need some exercise. Enjoy the figs.’
He strode away, down one of the gravel paths that ran through the neatly kept rows of trimmed flowering shrubs and the boughs of trees that shaded stretches of the paths. When he reached the foot of the wall, he took the path that ran around the garden and increased his pace, clasping his hands behind his back in the posture he habitually adopted whenever he needed to walk and think. Brushing aside his irritation with Apollonius, he turned his mind to the possible outcomes of his mission.
If Vologases was prepared to discuss a peace treaty on terms acceptable to Rome, then the emperor might accept that as enough of a victory to cancel his plans for war with Parthia. The glory-seekers might well howl in protest, but many lives would be spared, and much silver. Cato knew just how much the last consideration weighed in the minds of those advisers closest to Nero. If, however, Vologases refused Corbulo’s terms, as Cato thought more likely, given that they were the usual humiliating demands that Rome insisted on, then other factors might temper the Parthian king’s reaction. Such as the ongoing war being waged far to the east against his son, Vardanes, and his Hyrcanian allies. The possibility of disaffection amongst his nobles, or even the defection of one or more of them to Rome, would make Vologases think very carefully before he refused Corbulo’s demands. Particularly a man like Haghrar, who ruled over the most vital stretch of Parthia’s frontier with Rome. If Ichnae and the surrounding territory came under Roman control, then even the capital at Ctesiphon would be within easy reach of the legions.
The prospect excited Cato’s imagination, and while his inherent belief was that war should be avoided if possible, the chance of dealing a knockout blow to Rome’s long-standing enemy was too tempting to easily ignore.
Two days later, as dusk fell on the palace and the servants began to light the torches and braziers, a Parthian officer came to find Cato in his quarters, where he was reading a volume of Greek poetry he had been allowed to borrow from Haghrar’s library.
Cato lowered the scroll. ‘What is the meaning of this interruption?’
The Parthian frowned at the prisoner’s assertiveness. ‘My lord Haghrar orders you to attend him at once.’
‘I see.’ Cato stood up. ‘I’ll need my adviser to come with me.’
‘No. My lord sent for you alone.’
Cato briefly considered insisting that Apollonius be present as well, but it was clear that the Parthian officer was the kind who obeyed his orders to the letter and was not inclined to deviate.
‘Very well. Take me to him.’
He followed the Parthian out of the room and into the corridor. Apollonius was already standing at the entrance to his own room. ‘What’s happening, sir?’
‘Haghrar has sent for me.’
Apollonius stepped forward, but the Parthian thrust his hand out and pointed to the room. ‘Back inside.’
Apollonius did not move, but turned his gaze on Cato. ‘Well?’
‘He has sent for me. Not you.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that. It would be helpful if I was there.’
Cato nodded lightly at the Parthian. ‘His orders were specific. Just me.’
Apollonius stroked his jaw. ‘Let me know what happens.’
The Parthian gestured towards the far end of the corridor. ‘My lord is waiting.’
He moved off at a fast pace, and Cato followed more steadily, so that the Parthian had to slow down for him. They emerged from the wing reserved for guests and visitors and made their way past the banqueting hall and the audience chamber to Haghrar’s private quarters, where they passed two pairs of guards standing at each end of another corridor.
‘It seems your master fears for his safety even in his own palace,’ Cato commented.
The Parthian glanced at him with a cold expression, but made no reply before they entered a modest chamber with benches at the sides.
‘Wait here,’ the officer ordered, and went over to the door on the far side of the chamber. He knocked twice before entering, then strode out of sight, and Cato heard a brief exchange before the Parthian reappeared on the threshold and beckoned to him urgently.
‘My lord is ready to see you.’
Cato was shown into a small room, scarcely twenty feet across. Opposite him was an opening leading onto a narrow balcony overlooking the palace gardens. The walls were hung with tapestries depicting fabulous flowers and beasts of the ground and air, many of which he could not identify, such as the black and white bear-like creature chewing on bamboo. He wondered if they were mythical, or merely unknown to Rome. Haghrar sat on a large divan to one side in a short-sleeved black silk robe and sandals. His arms were muscular, and from the breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his neck, Cato knew that he possessed an uncommonly powerful physique. His dark eyes peered out from beneath the finely plucked brows of a broad forehead, and his curly black hair was cropped short.
He regarded Cato for a moment without speaking, and then turned and gave a curt instruction to the officer who had escorted him. The man bowed deeply and backed away towards the door, before closing it and leaving his lord alone with the Roman.
Haghrar eased his legs off the couch and leaned forward before he spoke. ‘King Vologases has responded to my message.’
There was a brief silence as he watched closely for a reaction, but Cato kept his composure and did not speak.
‘The king says he will receive your embassy. I am ordered to deliver you and your men safely to Ctesiphon as swiftly as possible. We will leave tomorrow and travel by river.’
Cato nodded. ‘That is good news, my lord.’
‘I hope so. I am not convinced that the king will be content to accept the terms demanded by your general.’
‘That would be a great pity. A war between Rome and Parthia would not be in the interest of either side.’
‘No?’ Haghrar gave a cynical smile. ‘I am not so sure I agree with you. Your emperor has only recently come to power. He needs to win himself a little glory to establish his reputation and his . . . What is the term you Romans use? Ah yes, imperium. For his part, Vologases might decide that a war would be a most useful means of uniting his nobles and allied kings against a common enemy and stop them squabbling and plotting amongst themselves.’
‘And perhaps plotting against their king,’ Cato suggested. ‘It is no secret that his hold on power is not as firm as he might wish.’
Haghrar’s smile faded. ‘There are always some men whose loyalty to their sovereign is corrupted by personal ambition. That is as true in your empire as it is in ours.’
‘Possibly,’ Cato conceded. ‘But Nero exercises far more direct control over his empire than Vologases. Is it not the case that what Parthia calls its empire is in reality more akin to a loose alliance of kingdoms? Not all of whom are content to regard Vologases as their undisputed ruler.’
‘If you are referring to the Hyrcanians, they have long been resentful of Parthia’s influence over their lands. They are little more than a distraction.’
Now it was Cato’s turn to smile cynically. ‘Rather more than a distraction, I think. Especially since the king’s own son is leading their struggle to free themselves from the tyranny of Parthia.’
‘A struggle that has been underwritten by Roman silver. And it is no secret that when Rome pays out in silver, she demands repayment in uncompromising loyalty and eventual surrender of sovereignty. Parthia needs
no lectures from Romans on the subject of tyranny and the underhand means by which that may be imposed on others.’
Cato stood in silence as he considered the words and demeanour of his captor. It was hard to determine the extent of Haghrar’s loyalty to his king. And yet it was vital to coax that out of him in order to better understand the balance of power within Parthia.
‘My lord, I cannot deny the truth of what you say. Yet there is an opportunity to make peace. Rome and Parthia have been enemies for too long and enough blood has been shed on both sides. Many Romans are weary of the near-constant state of war on the eastern frontier. And I am sure the same is true in Parthia. There must be some amongst his nobles and vassal kings who fear that Vologases is leading them towards a costly war. Men who would rather have a new man on the throne in Ctesiphon rather than risk further conflict with Rome.’
‘There are always malcontents in any empire,’ Haghrar conceded. ‘Vologases has his enemies, as does your Emperor Nero.’
‘I assume these men are known to you, my lord? Do you not have some sympathy for their concerns? After all, in the event of war, your lands are closest to the frontier with the Roman Empire. It is you who will first endure the brunt of the forces unleashed against Parthia. I can imagine that such a prospect must weigh heavily on your mind.’
Haghrar chuckled drily. ‘You can imagine that? I dare say you can. But if you think for an instant that I will betray my innermost thoughts to you, then you are a fool, Tribune Cato. Even if I knew which nobles are disloyal – if indeed there are any at all – I would not name them to you. Still less would I trust you in regard to my own loyalty to Vologases.’
Traitors of Rome (Eagles of the Empire 18) Page 19