“By the order of Chrosoes, King of Kings, I am assuming command of this army.”

Baraz’s voice held the finality of millstones crushing grain into meal. “If you care to discuss the wisdom of this with the Great King, then I suggest to hie yourself to Cte-siphon and take it up with him.” He leaned close to the Great Prince’s pale face. “But,” Baraz said, “he is in a foul mood of late. I would not advise it.”

“I… I do not believe you!” Shahin stepped back two paces and drew himself up. The Great Prince was a very powerful man in the Empire; his estates were as vast as those of the King of Kings. He could raise armies of his own, and he was closely related to the House of Sassan. “The Great King has entrusted this campaign to me! To me, you ignorant backwoods farmer! What proof do you have of this order from the King? I have received nothing to indicate this!”

Baraz laughed at the red face of the Great Prince. “A messenger brought me this news only tonight, and now I am here. You will command the left wing of the army- this too is the wish of the King of Kings, that you should have a place of honor. But I command here, now, Prince Shahin, and you would do well to heed my commands.” Shahin spat on the thick rugs of the floor. “Where is this messenger? Is he known to you? An Imperial courier? Do you have a written order?“ The Prince’s face turned sly as he thought he spied an advantage over the Boar.

Baraz chuckled again and turned slightly. “Here is the messenger, O Great Prince. Do you dispute him?”

Shahin stepped past Baraz, angry words on his lips, but then he saw Dahak leaning back in a chair with one foot wrapped with cloths. The dark man smiled and the lanterns of cut crystal and glass that illuminated the tent flickered and went out. In the sudden darkness, there was the soft sound of crickets, and a slow dull-red glow flickered into being around the sorcerer. Fire burned in two sharp points where the man’s eyes should be.

“The King of Kings speaks,” Dahak said in a deep basso voice. “Will you deny his will?”

Shahin stepped back, speechless, and ran into the solid bulk of Baraz. “No! No, great lord, I obey!” The Prince fell to his knees and bowed three times, prostrating himself upon the carpeted floor.

Flame leapt back up in the lanterns and the tent was filled once more with a warm light. Ominous silence was replaced by the sound of men shouting in alarm and the slap of running feet on sand and gravel. Dahak turned his face away from the two men in the center of the tent and seemed to fade into the rich brocade of the wall.

Seven or eight men, half dressed, with bared swords and spears, rushed into the tent and drew up sharply when they saw that the chamber was empty save for the Great Prince arid the Boar. All had come running at the shouts of assassins! and riot!

“General!” The commanders of the army were surprised to see a man they last knew to be no less than seventy leagues away. The Boar gave them a wide smile, all bright-white teeth. He casually tipped one of the tables back over, though now the candied fruits and jugs of wine were smashed and scattered on the floor.

“Well met, my friends. Where is the commander of the light horse? I see the cataphracti, the spearmen, the engineers represented here… is it Tahvaz who commands the scouts now?“

The captains shook their heads, and sidelong glances at the Great Prince, who was now sitting in his chair once more, a slave daubing at his forehead with a cool cloth, made Baraz turn, his eyes slitted in suspicion.

“Great Prince? Where is the commander of the light horse?” Baraz’s voice was polite.

Shahin looked up, his dark kohl-rimmed eyes glittering with hatred.

“The miserable Tahvaz was sent back to Ctesiphon a month ago. He was reckless and insubordinate. We are well done of him.”

Baraz pursed his lips; something that had bothered him during the hike down the hill was becoming clear. He turned back to the captains, now joined by many of their officers, who were crowding into the tent to see what had caused all of the fuss. “Khadames…you command the cataphracts-are there any light horse in this army?”

The commander of the heavy horse shook his head sadly.

“Then,” the Boar continued, “you’ve no scouts out at all, only pickets of spearmen around the camp. And it has been so since the army left Antioch in the north?”

The captains shrugged and Khadames squared himself and met the gaze of his former commander. “No, Lord Baraz, we have advanced in close order, with only some of my horsemen in light armor as flankers. We have not seen the enemy… they may still be at Damascus…” His voice trailed off as Baraz folded his hands behind him and gave him a steely glare. The other captains shuffled their feet and cast their heads down.

“The enemy,” Baraz said in a conversational tone, “is bare miles away, beyond these hills to the south. Given that he commands a host of bandits, you can be sure that he knows your every move, the number of your men, and the temperature of trie gruel you ate for breakfast. I have seen his camp and his numbers are as great as ours or better.“

A bitter laugh from behind him interrupted the general. Shahin rose, his robes once more neatly arranged and his makeup restored to some semblance of order.

“His numbers do not matter, General. Our heavy knights will smash whatever formations he places in the field against us. He does not have the weight of metal that we do, he cannot possibly stand up to us in an open battle!”

Baraz barely spared a glance for the Great Prince. “You have not seen him or brought him to battle, my friends, because the tribes are laying a trap for you, one that they hope you will blunder into headlong, unthinking. When this enemy chooses to fight, then he will fight. Until then he will content himself with buggering your sheep and stealing your women. What happened to the Lakhmid archers and lancers that Tahvaz captained? They can still serve to scout… what is it?”

Now the captains were openly uncomfortable. Khadames sighed and squared his shoulders again. “There was a dispute over pay, General. The Lakhmid auxiliaries are no longer with the army. When last I saw them, they had made camp at Arethusa.”

Baraz’s fists clenched and he finally turned to face Shahin fully. The Great Prince stepped back but then halted, standing his ground.

“The Lakhmid chiefs have not been paid?”

“They demanded twice that which they agreed to serve for! I will not let dirty tribesmen extort the Empire of good heavy gold! We do not need them, they are a trouble and a nuisance to us! I bade them return home, and this they did.”

In the corner, where Dahak sat tending to his sore ankle, there was bitter laughter. The captains and officers turned, startled, to see who was there and then shrank back in open fear. The gaunt, dark shape of the wizard was well known in rumor and whisper.

“No tribesman ever went where a perfumed dandy bade him go, Great Prince. If you left some thousands of Lakh-mid tribesmen behind you, you can be- sure that they have taken their pay, and more, from lands you counted a fine prize.“ Dahak’s voice was a whisper, but every man in the tent heard it full well and felt a chill upon the hearing.

Shahin flushed, but there was little he dared say to the dark man.

“Enough.” Baraz growled, thinking furiously. “Khada-mes, send for your fastest riders. Take the pay that the Lakhmids were promised and three times that on horses. Send a man that you can trust and get him on the way to Arethusa. Tell the chiefs of the tribes that I, Shahr-Baraz, the Boar, call upon their honor to help the Empire. Tell them… tell them that when there is battle, the Tanukh will be theirs. Tell them that I, Shahr-Baraz, promise it!”

“It shall be so, General. I shall send my nephew Bahram to treat with them.”