The woman Lucia had asked for a knife. If things went wrong, evidently she had no intention of falling into the hands of the tent-dwellers again. Valens had dithered. Part of his uncertainty stemmed from not having a spare knife. If he lost his sword, selfishly he had no wish to find himself unarmed. And it was a terrible thing that she asked. The decision was taken from him by Zabda. The Palmyrene had produced a blade hidden in his boot. With a courtly bow of his balding head, he had handed it over, hilt first. Since the rescue he had remained close to Lucia, often talking to her reassuringly in Aramaic. The solicitude was unexpected given his normal behaviour.

Valens glanced back to where Lucia was resting by the corral. Surely sleep would be out of the question. The rockfall hid her from view. Decimus was down there too. Certainly the horse master would not be sleeping. The animals were saddled and ready, their tethered reins close to Decimus’s grasp. Speed in mounting was essential. Everything would depend on timing.

Peering among the boulders around him, Valens could just make out Iudex, sitting cross-legged, his arms stiffly down at his sides. Valens could not see if his eyes were open. Perhaps he was meditating, or communing with his strange god. More than once Iudex had claimed that his spirit could leave his body, could range far and wide across the world, had even journeyed to the underworld. Possessed of such abilities, it was disappointing that Iudex had been unable to discern just how close behind the nomads had been.

Clemens and Zabda were a little further off, and completely hidden among the rocks. Valens had chosen who was to stay with care. The armourer Clemens was said to be the finest swordsman in the party. Iudex and Zabda had shown their metal in the raid. Decimus was necessary for the horses.

Well before last light, Aulus had led Narses and Hairan away. A trained hunter, brought up in the central highlands of Gaul, Aulus was accustomed to mountains. On his skills, and those of the two easterners, rested the survival of those in the canyon.

Were the stars fading? Valens wanted this night to end. The waiting was hard. He shivered. Without his cloak, he was cold. But he knew he was shivering with fear. With numb fingers, he fumbled a piece of dried meat from the pouch on his belt. To prevent his teeth chattering, he put it in his mouth, and chewed mechanically. For the umpteenth time, he obsessively ran his hands over his weapons.