David Wishart - Parthian Shot

There were four people in the room, sitting around a central table. Three of them I’d been expecting: the woman, her daughter and the big guy I now knew was Batis…

The fourth I hadn’t expected at all. The fourth was Peucestas.

We stared at each other. The Parthian cleared his throat.

‘So, Corvinus.’

I glanced at Jarhades. He was standing like he’d been cemented up from the inside, and he didn’t look too friendly, either. Obviously I wasn’t the only one to be surprised.

‘What’s going on here?’ he said.

Erato got up quickly, crossed over to him and gripped his arm. No spangle and glitter now; she was wearing a respectable matron’s tunic, her hair was in a tight bun and without the makeup she’d had on at the dinner party she looked her age.

‘It’s all right,’ she said.

‘Is it fuck.’ Jarhades was still glaring at Peucestas. ‘Who’s he, and what’s he doing here?’

‘I came to see my son,’ Peucestas said quietly.

Everything went very still. Then Jarhades moved…

‘Dad, no! ’ Batis might not be quick enough on his feet for an acrobat, but he was across the room in a second, between Jarhades and the Parthian, and the solid bulk of his shoulder slammed against Jarhades’s chest so hard I could hear the ribs grind. Jarhades gasped; it must’ve felt like hitting a stone wall, and the effect was just the same.

Oh, shit, I was definitely one too many here. Obviously a bad time to come calling. I remembered what Jarhades had said in the qef -shop, about Erato’s master getting her pregnant and her doing a runner to avoid being sold. And now you saw the two of them together — Batis and Peucestas — and knew who they were the resemblance was clear enough. Add twenty-five years to one, or take it off the other, and physically they’d be dead ringers. Apart from in one major respect, of course, and if Batis was the guy’s son then that was the one that didn’t make sense; no sense at all…

For a moment, the tableau held, like something out of the play they’d been putting on in the square. Jarhades stood clutching his ribs, half-leaning on the young man’s shoulder. Erato was white as a sheet, one hand over her mouth, and the daughter’s eyes were out like doorstops.

Peucestas might not have moved, but I had the impression from the look in his eyes that even if Batis hadn’t been there he could’ve handled the situation, no sweat.

‘Sit down,’ he said to Jarhades. ‘It isn’t the way you think.’

‘Do what he says, love,’ Erato said in the ghost of a voice. ‘Please.’

Batis moved aside. Jarhades stood swaying for a moment, his fists balled. Then he pulled up a stool and sat on it, glaring.

‘Batis is my son, yes,’ Peucestas said, ‘but Erato isn’t his mother.’

Whatever the guy had been expecting, it obviously wasn’t that. He stared at Erato, his head moving from side to side like a stunned bull’s.

‘I couldn’t tell you,’ Erato whispered. ‘First it was too dangerous, then it was too late. And by that time the truth didn’t matter.’ She glanced sideways at Peucestas.

‘She was my slave,’ he said. He was still speaking very quietly, and his eyes hadn’t left Jarhades’s face. ‘That part’s true enough. But she was only the boy’s nurse. And she ran because I told her to, taking the child with her. Up until the dinner I didn’t know that either of them were still alive.’

‘They would have killed him.’ Erato reached over to touch Jarhades, but her hand stopped short. ‘The way they killed the others.’

‘Batis’s mother was my chief wife,’ Peucestas said, in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘Artabanus ordered her and my children impaled.’

Oh, shit.

Jarhades grunted. Some of the stiffness went out of him. ‘So,’ he said to Erato, ‘there was no merchant in Ecbatana after all?’

‘No.’ Erato had got some of her colour back, and like Peucestas’s her tone was matter-of-fact. ‘The family had a house there, so I knew it well enough, but we lived most of the time in Rhagae. I had to lie to you about that, too. I’m sorry.’

‘The king’s men came before dawn one morning, when we weren’t expecting them,’ Peucestas said; his eyes still hadn’t wavered. ‘I’d no time to do anything but give Erato her orders and what little money I had by me and send her out the back way. I’d have saved the others if I could, but that wasn’t possible. A young girl with a baby she could pass off as her own had at least a chance, but I never thought I’d see either of them again in any case. I should have died with the others. Instead Artabanus was merciful. I was castrated, then carried into the courtyard to watch my wife and children die. As a lesson in obedience.’ His gaze shifted to me. ‘If you didn’t know my reasons before for supporting Phraates, Corvinus, you know them now. When that animal is captured my price is his skin, taken from him living.’

There was a long silence. Finally, Jarhades turned to Peucestas. ‘So,’ he said tonelessly. ‘Thank you for explaining, at least.’ Peucestas didn’t answer. ‘You’re taking the boy with you? Back to Parthia?’

I glanced at Batis. Neither he nor the girl had moved. He was frowning; she was still staring wide-eyed, like a kid at a puppet show.

‘Oh, no.’ Peucestas shook his head. ‘No. That would be stupid. If Phraates becomes king then yes, of course, in time: Batis is my heir, the only one I have or can ever have now. For the present he’s safer where he is.’ He looked at me again. ‘Corvinus, I’d be grateful if you didn’t pass the information on to your Palatine friends, as I have kept it secret from my colleagues. My family — what there is left of it — is still important in Parthia. If Rome knew that they held the heir then…’ He smiled briefly. ‘Well, you know how it is yourself. However this turns out, I’ve no desire to see him used as a bargaining token. You’ll do that for me? Please?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Yeah, sure. No problem.’ I swallowed. Jupiter!

‘Good. Thank you. Money is another matter. Of course my son will need — ’

‘We don’t want your money,’ Jarhades said.

Peucestas stood up. ‘I won’t quarrel,’ he said gently. ‘Especially today. I owe you and Erato too much for that. The money will be there whether you use it or not. I’ll make the necessary arrangements.’ He held out his hand. After a pause, Jarhades took it. ‘Now. We have a meeting scheduled for this afternoon, and I have to be getting back before I’m missed. Also’ — he smiled again — ‘no doubt you’ll have a lot to talk about after I’ve gone. We’ll meet again before I leave.’ He made a move towards Batis, then seemed to change his mind. Instead, he simply gave him a brief nod, walked past me towards the door, opened it and left without another word.

There was an awkward silence.

Gods alive!

‘Uh…maybe I should be going as well,’ I said.

‘No.’ Jarhades was still frowning. ‘Erato; wine for our guest.’ She got up without a word and disappeared into the next room.

Batis sat down on the bench. ‘Dad, I swear to you,’ he said softly. ‘I didn’t know.’

Jarhades shook his head. ‘Forget it, lad, it’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault.’

‘Does that mean Batis is a prince?’ Calliste said.

I turned to look at her properly for the first time. The name fitted: she was a little stunner, even without the makeup and the skimpy costume. But thirteen or not, the question and the tone had been a four-year-old’s. The hairs rose on the back of my neck.

Jarhades’s frown had lifted. He reached over and stroked her hair. ‘More or less,’ he said.