Fall of Empires

Chapter 18

Anna winced as she was jolted once more by the wagon’s progress over the stony track. Her back ached from the constant jarring and her arms and legs were covered with bruises from being thumped against the side of the wagon. The white linen tunic she had been taken captive in was now a grubby grey and her stola was torn. Her skin was burned from the constant exposure to the blazing sun from which there was no shelter and when she put her hands to her face the skin came away in crusty white flakes. It was a miserable existence on the road; an existence which had already lost all sense of time. Days had become weeks and weeks had lost all meaning once she had lost track of the days. At night she and the seven other girls who shared the back of the crowded wagon huddled together to stay warm and tried to sleep on the hard timber surface. During the day they sat for the most part in silence, each of them lost in their own dismal thoughts and all of them, Anna was sure, resenting the others for taking up space as they were continuously jostled together.

Today was a day much like all the others since she and the other girls from Antioch had been taken from their homes in the night, dragged screaming and struggling through the streets of the city and locked in one of the great storehouses in the imperial quarter, there to spend the rest of the night in terror of what might await them when the men who had taken them returned.
On the following morning buckets of water had been brought and the girls had been instructed to wash and make themselves presentable. Many had been too shy, unused to exposing their bodies in front of strangers. Anna had refused to do anything to improve her appearance. Her face had been blackened from the smoke that had been used to drive her like a hunted animal from her hiding place. She wore it like a badge of defiance.

Sometime later the women had been ordered blinking out into the sunlight and there they had found rows of Persian soldiers all around them, cutting off all possible avenues of flight. They had been arranged in lines to be inspected like beasts of burden at market and a tall Persian officer in shining armour had strutted along the rows of women, lifting a chin here, brushing back a lock of hair there. It had been a degrading experience. When the officer had paused before Anna she had given him a venomous look. He had spat onto the palm of his hand and wiped it across her cheek to remove the soot and had then given a small nod of approval, as he might when buying a horse. Anna had felt the urge to spit back at him, to spit right in his face, but where would that have got her? Besides, such behaviour was beneath her, she reminded herself, captive though she now was.

Anna had hoped that Antonina, who had not spoken and had barely moved since the beginning of their ordeal, would have been rejected as too young to be of interest and sent on her way but although the young girl, who had stood in line swaying slightly on her feet in a trance-like state of shock, had attracted little attention, she had not been spared from whatever fate lay ahead.

Following the inspection the young women had been herded into the waiting wagons and the convoy had made its way out through the city gate, flanked along its length by Persian horsemen. Anna had been shocked at the length of the column. It had stretched the length of Antioch’s great colonnaded main street. There had to have been over one hundred wagons. A few people had lined the streets in silence, their faces wracked with pity and sorrow. Here and there parents and siblings had recognised their loved ones and cried out to each other in desperation. One woman had rushed out from the crowd and had been sent reeling with the flat edge of a Persian sword. There had been no-one there to call out to Anna.

Ever since that day they had been on the road, lolling in the baking sun, breathing in the dust and drifting in and out of listless torpor, lulled at times by the rattle of the wheels and the grunting of the oxen into sleep, only to be jolted awake after what seemed like only a moment. Anna had tried not to think of Theophanes  or her father. The hopelessness of ever seeing either of them again, if either of them lived, was too much for her to bear. If she was to survive and endure whatever lay ahead, she must drive all such desperate thoughts from her mind. She must not think beyond the next sip of water, the next few mouthfuls of food, the next chance to stretch her aching limbs. These small comforts were all that she occupied her mind with. The only other person she allowed herself to think about was Antonina. The girl had now  become Anna’s sole emotional focus. She had taken a responsibility for Antonina when she had made the decision not to let the girl die but rather to condemn her to a life of captivity. She must take care of her now. This gave her a purpose to cling to.