Constantine smiled. “Sometimes I wonder why I listen to these wild tales of yours ”
“Because you know they’re true. Empires are built, and maintained, by intrigues like the one Galerius is engaged in now. Fortunately for you, he is dull, even for a general, and you can easily outthink him.”
“How?”
“That will have to be decided when we get to the frontier and see what is happening. But the gods obviously favor you.”
“When did you decide that?”
“The day you bested Crocus and won the first round against Galerius. Some people were meant to be rulers, Constantine; it shows early in life. I believe you are one of them and only hope I live to see myself proved a prophet.”
Constantine gave the grizzled centurion an affectionate punch on the shoulder. “When the time comes, if it ever does, you shall ride in triumph beside me, old friend,” he promised. “But we’d better make an early start tomorrow, or fate will leave us behind.”
Philadelphia
Alexandria was over a week behind the five hundred when they crossed the Jordan River near the city of Jericho and took a road leading somewhat northeastward toward the ancient city of Amman, now called Philadelphia. Dacius had traveled this way before and assured Constantine that it was a shorter route to Damascus than another road which followed the winding course of the narrow, muddy stream.
All of them were glad to get back into an area where the hills were covered with green, for it had been rough going indeed since, near a town called Raphia, they had left the ancient “Way of the Sea” that followed the coast northward. From Raphia they had traveled some of the roughest and most desolate country Constantine had ever seen to the city of Hebron and on to the settlement of Engedi, overlooking the leaden blue surface of the strange sea which, Dacius said, knew no life because of the saltiness of its waters.
Great springs burst from the earth near Engedi, turning it into an oasis. But northward, as they followed the coast of the Dead Sea, the terrain had been marked by the same endless undulations of rock, broken into gorges and chasms like a piece of parchment crumpled in one’s fist. The green irrigated fields around Jericho had been a welcome relief and now, with the route climbing steadily beyond the river, the character of the land became more like Illyricum, Constantine’s homeland, as the road led past thickets of cedar, terebinth, arbutus, silver poplar, laurustinus, acacia, pistachio and oleander.
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