The halo of torchlight flitted along the wall walk, tiny and alone, like a lost soul in the Stygian darkness.

Of course, now that they had escaped the Castle of Silence there was a simple solution. No need to involve the Persians, no harsh necessity of doing harm to his sworn companions. Just kill the young boy. Get close to him, get him on his own, make it look like an accident.

Up on the wall, the light of the torch went out.

Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

The Walls of Alexander

THE WIND STIRRED THE REEDS over their heads. The mud sucked at their boots. Out in the swamp, invisible creatures slithered and plopped into the water.

Of all the wildernesses in the world none was worse than a marsh. For a Roman, no desert or mountain felt so alien and frightening. Roman arms always failed where water and earth came together in a quagmire. At Abrittus, an entire imperial field army had become bogged down and was slaughtered. The body of the Emperor Decius had never been found. It was no wonder that Septimius Severus had failed to conquer Caledonia. How could it have been otherwise in a place where sea and earth could not be distinguished, where you could neither sail nor stand? How could you catch and defeat naked barbarians who could remain for days under the surface of the bog, breathing through a hollow reed?

The marshes themselves were threat enough. They bred fevers and poisonous animals. Without warning the mud could suck you down and smother you in its depths. For Valens, the greatest terror of all was snakes. Swamps abounded in venomous serpents, and Narses had said those of the Caspian were particularly large and deadly.

The sickle moon overhead shone from a cloudless sky. It had been too much to hope that the storm that had saved them yesterday would continue. The night was bright, but the feathery tops of the reeds offered cover. They were taller than a dismounted man and his horse.

Narses took them along muddy trails and embankments. The Persian had hunted wildfowl here. But that was long ago, and the nature of swamps was treacherous. From one year to another channels changed course, mudbanks shifted, and solid ground dissolved. Sometimes the path he was following vanished, and they had to lead their horses belly deep through foul-smelling standing water. Twice they had come to a bottomless black pool. Their progress was slow anyway, and they lost yet more time probing for an alternative route.