Valens was facing the camel lines. The ungainly-looking beasts regarded him with what appeared to be contempt. Their jaws worked ceaselessly as they chewed regurgitated food. Their stench was overpowering. No wonder horses unaccustomed to them were said to become unsettled, even unmanageable.

What was taking Zabda so long?

The moon had tracked far across the heavens since they set out.

Valens glanced over his shoulder.

Zabda had severed the thongs that held the woman. He had a hand over her mouth, and was talking low and urgently into her ear. Her eyes were wide and very white in the near darkness.

When he turned his head back around, against all expectation Valens saw the outline of a man just four or five paces to his front. Facing away from him, the nomad stretched and yawned. Gripping the scabbard in his left hand, Valens drew his sword with his right. The blade slid free with just a whisper. But it was enough.

The Arab turned, although slowly, and without undue alarm.

Valens hesitated to kill an unarmed man.

Their eyes met, and the tent-dweller started with surprise.

Still Valens could not bring himself to strike.

The Arab opened his mouth to shout.

Valens leapt forward, lunging with his sword.

The nomad yelled as he tried to twist away. The edge of the steel sliced across his half-turned back. The Arab staggered, doubled up with pain. Valens raised his weapon, brought it down in a clumsy two-handed chop, like an unskilled woodsman cutting logs. The impact jarred up through his forearms as the heavy blade bit into the back of the skull.

The camp was full of noise; the camels roaring with anxiety, men grunting and stirring, calling out questions.

Zabda pushed past Valens.

‘You and Iudex hold them back.’

The Palmyrene half carried the woman between two shelters off to the south.

Iudex was at Valens’s side. The big man bent to pluck a burning brand from the nearest fire.

‘Stay with me,’ Iudex said. ‘Work together, keep our heads, and we will get out of this.’

They backed down the alleyway after Zabda.

Like a disturbed nest of vipers, the camp was stirring. Dark figures flitted here and there, gathered around the dead man. The camels bellowed and stamped.

Iudex swung the smouldering branch through the air. After three or four passes, it blazed fiercely. He ran it along the skin covering one of the shelters. The dry skin caught. In moments it crackled with little licks of flame.

Pounding feet warned them of the approach of the Arabs. Three of them, rushing down the alley.

Training took over, and Valens brought his sword up into a guard, but he could not drag his eyes away from the glittering tip of the Arab’s spear. At the last moment, he leapt backwards, swatting ineffectually with his blade. The point of the spear missed. The nomad recovered his balance, and pulled back.