We continue avoiding all roads and towns, speeding through the night toward some unknown destination. One of the men has been wounded and he is growing weak from loss of blood. When he begins to fall behind the others impatiently urge him on. I see by the stars that, since Bostra, we have been traveling in a southeasterly direction.

I speculate on our ultimate destination.If we continue in this direction we should be near the town of Umm al-Quitten soon. There is a large fort there, manned by a cohort of the III Augusta Thracium equitata. Proximity to a fortified town will make my escape easier -- should the opportunity arise.

Just as the town comes into view, we turn sharply to head east-northeast. My hopes for a possible escape and rescue are dashed for the moment. However, if we continue on our present course we will cross a track that leads from the Wadi Sirhan in the South to Palmyra in the North, by way of Speluncae (modern Deir al-Kahf) and Motha (modern Imtan).

The wounded man has fallen behind again. We wait for him to catch up. This brings on a debate over what to do with him. Should they allow him to go to Speluncae, where he says a cousin resides? This carries with it the risk being captured. Or, should he continue on to their destination? They decide that he is growing too weak to continue much further so they decide for one of their number to accompany him to the town.

Shortly thereafter, as we cross the track between Speluncae and Motha, the two men peel off to the right, toward Speluncae. We continue East, across the road and toward Deir Al-Kinn where a Roman fort guards a large reservoir.

To my keen disappointment, we continue on our northeasterly course galloping past the sleeping Deir al-Kinn and its Roman fort.

The sky has begun to lighten in the East, revealing the empty, desolate landscape of the Black Desert. Here we are small specks in the midst of its vastness, continuing our speeding course. I am growing very tired and a little sick from the taste of the dirty rag in my mouth and the garlic breath of my captor who clutches me in front of him as we ride. I yearn for this nightmare to be over but it is a yearning mixed with dread. What awaits at its conclusion? -- I can only guess.

The sun breaks over the horizon and the stony, volcanic landscape spreads out on every side. The weary horses are slowly picking their way through the rocks and thorns. We are in the midst of a series of flat-topped mountains. The wadi we are following is leading toward one of these mesas and as we draw closer to it, I am amazed to see massive basalt walls looming over us on the steep rocky ledge overhead. A walled city here!?

As we climb the ridge leading up the mountain to the city, we pass a series of reservoirs. There is a little water in them and what is there is filthy and green with algae. This silent place seems deserted. The main gate stands open and we enter unchallenged, ascending into a vast complex of ruins.* What architecture that remains standing is strange and alien-looking. Nothing stirs except the wind. There is another, much stronger, city wall further up to which we are going. We are through the gate and we enter the upper city. This area is ruined as well but it is dominated by a large rectangular building. We dismount at its entrance. Although the building appears ancient, it is remarkably well-preserved. Most of it is still roofed with cantilevered basalt slabs on piers and traces of an upper floor still exist. My captors lead me down a pillared corridor to a doorway on the right. This leads through a small room and into an open courtyard. We cross the courtyard and enter a room on the opposite side. The remains of several campfires in the courtyard and piles of weapons and supplies in the adjoining rooms indicate that this place is their hide out.

"If you promise to behave yourself, I'll untie you." the leader says. "Remember no tricks or you'll be sorry."

I nod and the gag is removed and my wrists are untied. As I rub the circulation back into my hands, I tell them, "Kidnapping a Legatus Augustae is a gravely serious matter. The penalty is a slow, painful death. However, if you let me go now, You can escape to Persia and I promise that I will not prosecute you for this."

The kidnappers find this statement extremely amusing. They are nearly bent double with laughter.

"Come, 'Your Worship.'" the leader sneers sarcastically. "Let me escort you to your new quarters," With that, he thrusts me roughly into an adjoining room and bolts the door.

"If you do not let me go, it will not go well for you when you are captured!" I shout through the bars as the man and his companions go out into the courtyard to confer among themselves. I survey my prison. The floor, walls, and ceiling are stone. There is no window. Two pillars support the roof. The door has been roughly fashioned out of wood gleaned from the city's ruins. I test its strength. It may be ancient but it is still too strong for me -- oak, I think. There is a mattress on the floor and some rough blankets against the cold. I sink down onto the mattress in despair and exhaustion.

What am I to do?

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*Jawa is an abandoned fortified city built in the Chalcolitic period. It is located in northern Jordan, near the Syrian border, in the Black Desert at the foot of the Jebel Druz. The first Jawites built an elaborate water system to harness the winter rains and the periodic flow down the Wadi Rajil. this was their only water source. Their city had only lasted a few decades before it was attacked. There is evidence that the walls were breached at several points and there was widespread destruction of the city. Either surviving Jawites or their attackers occupied the site for a short time thereafter; but without proper upkeep, the complex water system failed and Jawa was abandoned.

Over a millennium later, in the Middle Bronze Age, it was partially reoccupied by a different people. It has been conjectured that the Bronze Age site was a stopping place on the route between Syria/Mesopotamia and Arabia and Palestine. It, too, was abandoned. By the time of our story, the site had been long unoccupied and forgotten, except by the wandering Bedouin.

The site remained lost to the West until the 1930s when an aerial survey of the desert revealed it.

There is a book by the excavator of Jawa:
S. W. Helms, "Jawa: Lost City of the Black Desert."