'Brethren, I leave you the Spear of Longinus for your care. Let nations die before you lose it. Remember and obey. Follow the Roman and damned be his name for all eternity. Glory to those that give him pain in this life.
'This is my word and The Word of God as given to me, Izram, the Thirteenth Disciple!'
The power of the story came over Rasheed as it always did and the final words of Izram ate at him. 'Glory to those that give the Roman pain.'
Nothing was said about Casca by the Elder and Rasheed was bitter. It was not until a member of their order was selected for participation in the re-enactment of the crucifixion that he felt better.
The reenactment of the moments of Christ always gave him a great sense of peace and purpose, especially when the brother was nailed to the cross and it was raised in position. There he would repeat the final words of Jesus and another brother, dressed in the uniform of a Roman legionnaire, would take the Spear of Longinus and drive it into his side, that he might feel and rejoice in the pain that Jesus had felt, and through this act of dying by the very spear that had taken the life of The Son of God, the brother would be reborn to sitat the foot of The Master until the day of the Second Coming when they would all be reborn in His Glory.
The bitterness at the inaction of the Elder returned to Rasheed on his way back to the court. He could not understand why he hadn't ordered the punishment of Casca. The word was clear in the words of Izram. Glory to him who did!
Rasheed was not going to wait. He would create the conditions that would lead to the Roman's punishment and assure that he alone received credit for the deed. It would be a just punishment; he would make sure of that. It would exceed the pain given him by the Elder Dacort. He grinned as the wind whipped his face and robes. He knew the proper punishment to inflict and just how to have it finally done.
FOURTEEN
Events were changing the course of Persian affairs. Casca and his armies had been successful in eliminating all but a few bands of bandits in the mountains. All other resistance had been crushed, But the success of the Persian armies in the field led others to watch them with suspicion. As long as Persia had problems with the Huns and a half-dozen other enemies, she was no threat to the eastern frontiers and provinces of Rome. Now there had been several small skirmishes between Persian and Roman patrols in various regions.
Rasheed continued to spread his disguised invective against Casca. Always in the most flowery of terms, but the message was clear: the Roman must go. Shapur, too, watched the progress of events. Astrologers read the portents of the heavens to him, and their message was clear also. He knew now what had to be done. There was a small sense of regret at the actions he must take, but the burden of rule was ever a heavy one, and so be it. In many ways, Shapur almost held a true fondness for the Roman, but that could not be allowed to interfere with the course of his destiny.
Rasheed smiled, his hands shaking with eagerness as Shapur put his signature and seal of office on the document before him. It was done! In two days, and after the King's dedication of the new temple ofAhura-mazda, Casca would be judged and condemned.
His work had finally borne fruit and now he would have the satisfaction he'd craved for these many years. Ever since he'd seen the Roman scum he'd known what had to be done, and finally it was to be accomplished.
Rasheed glowed with pleasure.
The morning of the dedication, Shapur wore his sword at his belt. A scarf covered his mouth that his breath would not contaminate the purity of the flames as his torch was lit by theMobed-mobedan.
His back was straight, strong and proud; arched nose and dark eyes. His face a mixture of stern righteousness and pride. He looked every inch the part of a king today, warrior king of a race of warriors. His beard had been curled to lay in waves, cut straight at the bottom. His robes of purple and gold were set off with dangling tassels of silver. He was the King of Kings and the glory of his God.
Below the temple, every able-bodied man, woman, and child had come forth at his bidding from their fields and homes to witness the final conquest of things foreign. The Roman was noticeable by his absence. But this was not the time for foreigners, this was Persia for the Persians.
It would be soon; the red glow over the tops of the distant peaks gave warning of the birth of the new day and, for Shapur, a new era. He and hispeople had finally thrown off the yoke of the Greek Selucids and wrested power from the Aracids. When the founder of his house, Ardashir of Babek, overthrew Artavasdes, all of the Arascid line were put to death, save those few who had escaped to Armenia. Ardashir then had conquered and added to his realm the domains of Seitan, Merv, Khwarizam, Gorgon, Balkh, and Abarshar. The kings of Kushan, Makran, and Turan had come to make obeisance to the Persian and acknowledge his house as their overlord and master.
As the priests made ready for the welcoming of the sun, Shapur thought of his Roman general. He was going to regret the loss of Casca in more ways than one actually, but the time had come for him to go. Soon there would be another war. Rome!
Casca had served him well over the years, taking Shapur's armies against the Huns and rebellious tribesmen, and now Shapur's borders were secure for a time, and Casca had worked himself out of a job. His success in battle and his bravery had given him a great deal of popularity among his warriors, and that could prove dangerous to his King if allowed to grow. Many of the younger men of noble houses had vied for the privilege of serving in the Roman's command and all that a general needed for an uprising were loyal followers. Shapur would avoid that at all costs. But he would not easily forget the fair-haired and pale-eyed Roman, nor would the sly one, Rasheed.
The Vizier had cried loud and long the praises of Shapur's Roman. He had recounted at great lengths the deeds of the foreigner and how his men were growing in a loyalty to him that was secondonly to the King. Rasheed spoke in glowing terms how he was certain that Casca's armies would follow him anywhere and obey any order he gave to do battle with anyone.
Shapur was not fooled by Rasheed's words of praise. He knew that he hated the Roman but didn't know his reasons. He had noticed that when the Roman entered the room where his Vizier was present, venom dripped from Rasheed's lips, though the poison was honey-covered. But now, he agreed with the deviousness of his Vizier, it was time for the Roman to go. War clouds were gathering fast and dark.
Rome and Persia must try each other again and it would not do to have a Roman commanding Persian forces at such a time. True, he had told Casca that he would release him from his oath of fealty if the time should come that there was war with Rome again, but he could not let Casca go free. The Roman knew too much of the ways of Persia and the strength of her forces. He could take that information and lead Roman forces against him.
And now, from Rasheed, he had the reason he needed to sign Casca's death warrant and so he had. Rasheed had given him the perfect excuse and not even the warriors that had served his general so loyally could find fault with the judgment he would render today. He turned his attention back to the proceedings as a polite cough distracted him from his sad reflections on Casca.
TheMobed-mobedan handed him thebarsom, a bundle of sacred twigs with which he would light the flame of eternity to welcome the sun on this, the longest day of the year.
He performed his priestly duties as the priest he was, Shapur II, Shahan shah Eran ut an Eran, the King of Kings of Iran and non-Iran.
The sun broke forth and the sacred flame was lit to burn eternally from this date forth to signify the supremacy ofAhura-mazda over the forces of Ahriman, represented by the powers of darkness and their servant.
'Casca,' he thought as he touched the torch to flames. 'Tomorrow, a new torch would be lit.' It saddened him.
Casca was summoned to the court early in the morning, even before the cockcrow. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and hastily dressed in uniform, ignoring Anobia's request that he return to bed and hold her. Once outside, he was somewhat surprised by the size of his escort. Normally there would have been no more than four or five troopers to escort him, but now there were two full squads. Twenty men meant he was receiving some special notice and the Roman wondered whether it boded ill or fair. No use thinking about it. He would find out soon enough, though he knew that he done nothing to arouse the King's ire and had served him faithfully.
Still, there was a growing feeling of apprehension as he rode to the palace. Once inside the grounds, the
