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ASTUR did not know the road well but, fortunately for her, Mercury did and he galloped south-eastwards at full speed. Astur wiped the rain from her eyes and pulled up the hood of her cloak and lay low over the head of the magnificent stallion.
After only an hour, she ached all over. Her back was stiff from the strange position and her hands already sore from holding so tightly onto the reins. Also, the inside of her thighs were chafed from the rubbing against the hard saddle. She was soaked to the skin and feeling thoroughly miserable but she dare not stop. It was around three hundred miles from Shushan to Persepolis, a distance which would take Megabyzus and his cavalry almost four days to cover, even at full speed. Astur knew that she had to do it in less. Artakhshayarsha not only had to be warned, he would have to make preparations to defend the city against the invading army. DAWN broke on Astur's left as she lay across the neck of her mount while he trotted along as if he had all the stamina in the world. The road was well-marked and the hoof-prints of the men ahead of her clearly visible in the sandy mud. The rain had abated to a fine drizzle and Astur had never felt so miserable in all her life. The implications of what had happened were just coming home to her as she remembered that her husband was dead. Khshayarsha had not been the perfect ideal of a marriage partner and probably never would have been. Granted, he was a King and probably the richest man in the world but those things were not everything. She had always walked a tightrope and knew that if, one day, she did not fully please him, she would have been replaced just as surely as Amestris had been. Astur was so deep in her thoughts and misery that she nearly rode right into the camp of Megabyzus. The cavalry had opted to call a halt for rest and food and Astur had rounded a corner north of Nasiri. It had been the low-throated grunt of Mercury which had made her look up and see them ahead. Standing up in the stirrups, she surveyed the terrain around her. To the south, the land was treacherous and marshy as wading birds strutted around looking for food. On her left, the sandstone seemed to rise almost vertically from the road, huge boulders seemingly poised ready to crash down upon her. Only the track they were on seemed safe enough to travel. There was only one thing for it. Nudging Mercury forward at a slow walk, Astur edged her way towards their camp as the men ate and drank in the light mist that had gathered around them. Quietly and carefully, she approached the men until she could recognise some of them, Megabyzus sitting on a rock while others huddled under whatever shelter they could find. She was almost into the camp before they saw her. For a long time, no-one said a thing as the horse walked through their midst, Astur's heart beating frantically as she held her head down. In fact, she had almost reached the far side before one of them spoke. 'Where are you going, boy?' said Megabyzus, grabbing Mercury's halter. 'Ramuz, my Lord,' replied Astur in as deep a voice as she could muster. 'Don't I know you?' asked the Prince, his eyes mere slits as he peered at her and tried to put two and two together. 'I don't think so, my Lord,' she said with sudden inspiration. 'I have messages from Lord Artabanus to the Princes.' 'Very well,' he said, releasing her horse. She trotted to the edge of the camp but couldn't resist the temptation to turn and look back. As she did, Megabyzus suddenly became suspicious as to why Artabanus would permit the news to get out before Artakhshayarsha had been captured and executed. 'Stop that post-rider,' came the command as Astur dug her heels in and galloped into the mist. Arrows fell to the roadway beside her but few came close as she let Mercury have his head. The stallion was superb as she lay forward and held on tight. Every time she glanced backwards, the chasing riders seemed a little further behind and, by high sun, she was alone in the foothills. She had to stop soon, she knew. Even Mercury could not keep up that speed forever. Besides, her own body could only take so much punishment. Ahead lay the Zahreh valley as she topped the pass. She remembered the last time she had been here when Khshayarsha had pointed out various landmarks that could be seen from such a lofty elevation. She stopped and, jumping to the ground, tied Mercury's reins to a bush within reach of a swollen stream. Without hesitation, Astur clambered up the craggy scree slope and stopped only where she had a complete view of the road ahead and behind her. In front, to the east, was the wide river she would need to follow all the way upstream for a great many miles until she was high among the tall, snow-covered peaks of the eastern Zagros. From where she stood, Kuh-e-Khayez was just visible to the east, its top sheathed in white cloud and, further south, the Mishim foothills. When Khshayarsha had brought her this way before, the caravan had followed the southern edge of the Zagros, via Shapur between the Mishim and the mighty Kuh-Tasak, one of the tallest of the south-eastern Zagros. During that long journey, the King had told her of another route, the high road of the Zagros, which ran close to the source of the Zahreh River. If she could make it up the steep valley, if at the top she could find this high road which might still be snowbound, if she could follow the road eastwards through the correct passes, then only could she descend into the wide, fertile valley below and then follow it downstream to Persepolis. It was very dangerous but, if she made it, it would cut several hours off her journey. If, if, if. She turned and looked back at the way she had come. To the west, she could see the Gulf of Parsa and the mouths of the Hiddekel and Euphrates Rivers. Further north could be seen the beginning of the wide, fertile valley that led to Babylon, the place of her birth. The road she had travelled lay beneath her, winding across the countryside and, not far away, the blur of many riders. The sight made up her mind for her. She had but one horse and, if it gave up, she would be alone and at their mercy. If, however, she could do the unexpected, take the road she had never travelled, she might just survive. Slithering down the scree, she recovered her horse who had drunk well and, after a sip herself, she nudged Mercury down the slope. At the bottom, the river was wide and deep from the melting snows of spring and Astur was glad she didn't have to cross it yet. It was getting dark as she reached the tributary which followed the road to the right and she had to travel a long way upstream before she could find a safe place to cross the main river. On the far side of the raging waters, she almost fell from the saddle with exhaustion and found she no longer cared if Megabyzus caught up with her. She was able to travel no further so, settling down under an overhanging rock with the faithful Mercury standing guard, she immediately fell fast asleep.
WHEN Astur next opened her eyes, the sun was on her face. Stiff with sleeping on the ground, she sat up and peered outside at the morning. Her whole body seemed to ache from the riding she had not done for many years. Khshayarsha had forbidden his Queen to be seen on the back of a horse like a common wench and had insisted on her using the carriage. Her only exercise of late had been the running which, in itself, had not entirely equipped her for such a desperate ride.
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 CHAPTER
THIRTY
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