Perhaps the drink had been a mistake, Valens thought. The Persian officer had warned them not to fraternise with the prisoners. Well, it was too late now. To Hades with the Persian.

‘Health and great joy,’ Valens said. ‘Let us get you a drink.’

‘That would be most civil.’

Without being asked, Hairan went to the bar and spoke to the girl.

Before Valens and Aulus sat down, the two men got up and shook their hands.

‘Marcus Julius Priscus, sometime prefect of the camp of the Third Gallica,’ the older man said. ‘This is Titus, my nephew. He was just sixteen, a new recruit.’

‘Marcus Aelius Valens, a merchant out of Antioch. This is Aulus, and over there is Hairan. They are caravan guards.’

The older man raised an eyebrow. ‘If you say so.’

The introductions made, they all sat down together.

‘Where were you taken?’ Valens asked.

‘Beyond Edessa with Valerian.’

‘Not good.’

The old soldier shrugged. ‘The campaign was ill-fated from the start. After we crossed the Euphrates at Samosata, the first rations issued were lentils and salt, the food of mourning, offerings to the dead.’

The girl brought cups and pitchers of wine and water. As soon as she had put them down, Hairan took her arm and led her to the stairs.

‘Excuse me,’ the Hatrene said, ‘it has been a long time.’

The girl appeared no less bored than before as she went up. As if by magic, an almost identical girl materialised behind the bar.

‘You survived the death march,’ Valens continued to speak in Latin. It was unlikely the serving girls could eavesdrop.

The older man poured the drinks. ‘Once a day they drove us to water like animals. There was never time for all to drink. Those that could not keep up, the Persians killed.’

‘I heard that Shapur slaughtered men to fill a ravine, so that he could ride his horse across,’ Aulus said.

‘So they say, I did not see it myself. Cruel things happen in war.’

‘And how are things with you now?’ Valens asked.

‘They could be worse. Shapur gave us land, told us to build a city. Bishapur, he named it, the “beauty of Shapur”.’ The old man chuckled. ‘We laid it out like a Roman camp.’

‘Except the best part is the palace he ordered us to build,’ the younger man said with bitterness.

The older man silenced him with a look. ‘It is not too bad. We built bathhouses and a circus. There were charioteers and musicians and actors among the civilians captured in Antioch.’

‘This season Gallienus is fighting in the west,’ Valens said. ‘When he has defeated Postumus, it is thought he will march east next year to free his father.’

‘There have been such rumours for the last five years,’ the older man said.

‘You do not want to go home?’ Aulus sounded incredulous.

‘We surrendered. If we managed to reach the border, our citizenship would be revoked.’