'Quiet!' hissed Brennus. He would wait as long as Tarquinius was happy to. 'You don't want to die like that legionary.'
The decomposing figure hanging from the T-shaped wooden structure outside was a brutal example of Parthian discipline. Two days before, a burly veteran of the Sixth had spat at the feet of a guard. He had been dragged outside immediately and fastened to a cross.
With thick iron nails driven through his feet, the soldier had been unable to stand for long. Nor could he hang from his transfixed hands. Shifting from one agonising position to another, the victim was soon screaming. The cruel spectacle had carried on for half the morning. Satisfied that the prisoners had seen enough, the guard had abruptly ended the man's suffering with a spear thrust and had left his body in place to serve as a reminder.
Felix sat down.
The Parthian resumed his patrol around the perimeter.
'We are still alive and that means they have something planned,' said the Etruscan.
'Public execution,' growled Felix. 'That's what the Gauls would do.'
'Not for us ordinary soldiers.'
Romulus remained unconvinced. 'In Rome we'd end up in the arena. Are these savages any different?'
'They have no gladiators, no beast hunts. This is not Italy.' Tarquinius was emphatic. 'Listen!'
The Parthian bells and drums had not stopped since dawn. Since their arrival in Seleucia there had been triumphant noises most days, but this was different. Growing ever louder, the clamour had an ominous feel to it. The temperature had been climbing steadily as the sun rose into the clear blue sky and the sweating soldiers were beginning to feel uneasy.
Brennus got to his feet, looking towards the maze of streets that led into the city. 'It's getting nearer.'
Silence hung over the stockade as the din approached. Dirty, bandaged and sunburnt, the survivors of the Sixth got to their feet one by one as the guards chattered excitedly outside.
'What is it, Tarquinius?' Like many, Felix had realised the Etruscan had knowledge of the Parthians.
Eager for any information, a cluster of men formed around him.
Tarquinius rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'There has been no formal celebration yet.'
'What about Crassus?' asked Romulus. Since the battle, there had been no sign of their general. No doubt he would play an important part.
The Etruscan was about to answer when a group of fifty unusually tall warriors emerged from the brick archway into the open area before the compound. Clad in chain mail and wearing polished spiked helmets, each bore a heavy spear and round shield. They were followed closely by dozens of Parthians in robes, playing instruments. The procession came to an orderly halt, but the harsh music carried on relentlessly.
More than one man made the sign against evil.
'Elite bodyguards,' muttered Tarquinius. 'King Orodes has decided our fate.'
'You know.' Romulus glanced at the Etruscan, who smiled enigmatically.
He ground his teeth.
'Have you seen something else?' said Brennus.
'I told you before. We are going on a long march to the east.'
Alarmed by the revelation, the soldiers stared fearfully at the haruspex.
'Where Alexander led the greatest army ever seen.' By now, Tarquinius had told many stories of the Greek's legendary march into the unknown, three centuries before.
Most faces dropped even further but Romulus had found the tales fascinating. Anticipation coursed through his veins.
'We may be glad that they passed east.' Tarquinius patted the tiny leather pouch hidden in his waistband which contained the herbs and the ancient map they had seen only once before. Along with his scarab ring and the lituus, it was the only personal possession he had managed to retain after capture. 'One of Alexander's soldiers made this. And it passed into my hands for a reason,' he whispered.
They were interrupted as the newcomers' leader began loudly addressing the guards. Heavy ropes were immediately picked up, the same ones that had been used on the prisoners after the battle. Fear, ever present among the prisoners, rose. When one of the gates was half opened, the legionaries' frightened muttering grew even louder. There had been some security in the confined space. What now?
Flanked by several burly warriors with lowered spears, the captain in charge entered the compound and directed those nearest to walk outside. With great reluctance the soldiers obeyed. As they emerged, ropes were tied around their necks. Soon a long file had formed. Counting carefully, the Parthians inside the stockade gestured at more captives to follow.
One man had endured enough. Clad in the distinctive breastplate of an optio, he had been missed when the officers were removed. As the guard pointed with his spear, the optio deliberately shoved him in the chest.
'What's the fool doing?' hissed Romulus. 'He must know what they'll do.'
Tarquinius regarded him steadily. 'Choosing his own fate. It is something we can all do.'
Romulus remembered Bassius' mercy killings and the two mercenaries who had stayed behind at Carrhae. Self-determination was a powerful concept and he struggled to comprehend it.
A swift order rang out and the sentry drove his spear point deep into the man's belly. He doubled over with a scream, hands clutching the shaft. They watched as the guard knelt and drew a thin-bladed dagger. Two others held the optio's arms. As shrieks of agony rent the air, the Parthian captain glared at the remaining soldiers.
The sentry stood up and swung his arm, throwing something through the air. Two glistening eyeballs, their nerves still dangling, landed nearby and Romulus recoiled in disgust, still astonished that anyone could choose such suffering.
Nobody resisted when the officer motioned again for them to walk outside. Romulus shuffled silently past the optio. Inevitably he found his gaze drawn to the mutilated writhing creature, hands clutching its bloody sockets. The low moans filled him with pity, and he clenched his fists.
'No man should have to endure a fate such as that,' he whispered.
'Do not presume to judge another,' replied Tarquinius. 'That optio could have walked outside with us. He chose not to.'
'No one can decide another's path,' agreed the Gaul, his tone sombre. Bright in his mind was the image of his uncle, choosing to die to save another. Brennus.
Romulus looked at his friends in turn. Their words resounded inside him.
When fifty soldiers had been assembled, the Parthian commander signalled his guards to stop. As with the sacrifice of the bull, only a few were required as witnesses. Word would spread fast to the remainder.
Led by the cataphracts and musicians, the column got under way. The legionaries shuffled miserably together, urged on by kicks and spear butts.
They passed under the immense archway, which was as big as any Romulus had seen in Italy. But it was the exception rather than the rule. Lined by single-storey mud huts, Seleucia's streets were narrow. Constructed of sun-hardened bricks, the tiny dwellings made up the majority of structures. Just an occasional, plain temple was taller. As in Rome, everything was built very close together, the alleyways between filled with rubbish and human waste. Romulus saw no signs of aqueducts or public toilets. It was a simply built city; the Parthians were clearly not a nation of engineers. They were nomadic desert warriors.
Only the arch and the structure of what must have been King Orodes' residence were impressive enough to exist in Rome. Bare ground extended for some distance around the high, fortified walls of the palace. Towers sat on each corner, with archers patrolling the battlements between. A troop of cataphracts sat on horses beside ornate metal gates, staring impassively as the legionaries filed by. Few could look at the mailed warriors without a shudder of fear.
As he passed, Tarquinius peered through gaps in the metalwork.
'Don't draw their attention!' hissed Brennus.
'They don't care,' replied the Etruscan casually, craning his neck. 'I want a glimpse of the gold Crassus was after. The place is supposed to be dripping with it.'
But one cataphract had seen enough: dropping his lance tip towards Tarquinius, he then forcefully jerked it away.