"Dog of a Palmyrean; slave of a camel-driver," said the Roman
angrily, "trifle not with me. Were you ten times the free
merchant you claim, you should not thus reply. Free, forsooth!
None are free but Romans."
"Have a care, O Rufinus," said the Palmyrean boldly, "choose
wiser words if you would have peaceful ways. Palmyra brooks no
such slander of her foremost men."
"And Rome brooks no such men as you, traitor," said Rufinus. "Ay,
traitor, I say," he repeated, as Odaenathus started at the word.
"Think not to hide your plots to overthrow the Roman power in
your city and hand the rule to the base Sapor of Persia. Every
thing is known to our great father the Emperor, and thus doth he
reckon with traitors. Macrinus, strike!" and at his word the
short Gallic sword in the ready hand of the big German
foot-soldier went straight to its mark and Odaenathus, the
"head-man" of Palmyra, lay dead in the Street of the Thousand
Columns.
So sudden and so unexpected was the blow that the Palmyreans
stood as if stunned, unable to comprehend what had happened. But
the Roman was swift to act.
"Sound, trumpets! Down, pikes!" he cried, and as the trumpet peal
rose loud and clear, fresh legionaries came hurrying through the
Damascus arch, and the pilum[1] and spatha of Rome bore back the
shields and lances of Palmyra.
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