The helmsmen steered the ship into the river. Although the river was swollen with spring runoff from snow melting in the hills and mountains, its shallow waters and rapids would prevent the ship from moving farther upstream.

The Scythian mercenaries lined the ship’s rail, their weapons at the ready. The captain stood on the prow, surveying the riverbank. He saw a grassy promontory that projected into the river and ordered the oarsmen to hold the ship against the current while the deck crew dropped anchor.

A muscular man with prominent cheekbones and a face as weathered as old saddle leather strode up to the captain. Tarsa commanded the Scythian marines who protected the ship and its cargo. Related to the Mongols, the Scythians were known for their skill as horsemen and bowmen, and for their peculiar habits.

In battle, they drank the blood of their vanquished enemies and took scalps that they used as napkins. Tarsa and his men painted their bodies red and blue, cleansed themselves with vapor baths, and wore leather shirts and trousers tucked into soft leather boots. Even the poorest Scythian adorned his clothes with gold ornaments. Tarsa wore a small horse pendant that the captain had given him.

“I’ll organize a scouting party to go ashore,” Tarsa said.

The captain nodded. “I’m going with you.”

A smile came to the Scythian’s stony face. As a landsman he had had little faith at first in the young captain’s ability to keep the ship afloat. But he had watched the captain command the massive ship and had seen that there was iron behind the young man’s patrician features and soft-spoken manner.

The wide-bodied utility boat normally towed behind the ship was brought alongside. The Scythian and three of his toughest fighters got into the boat with the captain and two strong rowers.

Minutes later the boat bumped against the promontory with a hard, grating sound. Under the grass overgrowth was a stone quay. The captain tied the boat up to a bollard that was all but hidden by weeds.

Tarsa ordered one man to stay with the rowers. Then he set off with the captain and the other Scythians along the overgrown stone-paved road that ran inland from the quay. After weeks spent on a rocking deck, they walked with an unsteady gait but quickly recovered their land legs. A few hundred feet from the river they encountered a weed-choked central plaza lined on all four sides by dilapidated buildings. Tall grass grew in the open doorways and alleys.

The captain pictured the settlement as it was on his first visit. The plaza had bustled with activity. Hundreds of workers had occupied the flat-roofed dormitories and toiled in the warehouses.