Valens measured the course of the moon by the tip of the tallest palm. When he judged that at least half an hour had gone by, he nudged Zabda and Iudex. It had been decided earlier that the three of them would venture into the camp. Zabda was a thief, accustomed to moving surreptitiously, and Iudex, for all his bulk, had the grace of a dancer. Valens did not feel that he could remain behind if he ordered men into danger. Aulus, Clemens and Narses would remain, bows ready to cover their return. Narses, it was agreed, was the best shot in the party.

At first the sentry had walked the perimeter of the camp, stopping frequently to relieve himself. Once he had been sick. Weariness and the wine overcoming his duty, soon he had sat with his back to a palm tree. As the fires burnt low, it was impossible to tell if he was asleep.

Zabda waited for a cloud to pass across the face of the moon, then got to his feet. Valens and Iudex rose up with him. All three had smeared dirt on their faces and hands. No words were spoken. As the shadow of the cloud shifted across the bare earth, they set off in its gloom. Valens noticed that, out in the open under the ambient light, his own dark cloak, and that of Zabda, stood out more than the sky-blue one of Iudex.

They went in single file: Zabda, then Iudex, with Valens at the rear. Leading them in a wide detour, the Palmyrene made towards the camp using the cover of the horse lines.

Although they had left their helmets, armour and the ornaments from their belts with the baggage train, Valens thought the noise they made enough to wake the dead. His heart was hammering, and his breathing coming in a short, loud panting.

The horses stirred, hooves softly thudding. Ears pitched forward, the animals’ huge gentle eyes regarded the approaching men. Curious about their nocturnal movements, one horse called out to them. A restlessness ran through the herd. Going past the other men, Valens went to the nervous beast. As he got near, it jerked up its head and whinnied. Valens stopped. Its head came down. With infinite slowness he moved closer. Still suspicious, it stretched its neck, smelling this stranger. Valens leant forward. The horse’s muzzle snuffled over his face. Valens forced himself to relax, to betray no tension. He breathed in its nostrils, the horse calmed, a thoughtful, dreamy look in its eyes.

Zabda stole past between the warm flanks of the horses. Iudex remained.

Time slowed, as if held in the hand of a god.

Valens found that he was murmuring very softly to the horse.

Somewhere out in the desert a fox barked. Valens jumped. The horse ruckled down its nose. Now it was the solid presence of the horse reassuring the man.

Valens peered around the huge head.