Barates hooked his leg around the camel's neck and allowed himself to be lifted into the saddle. Settling in, arranging his legs, he smiled grimly.

The council of war with the Hittites had gone successfully. Barates' own Hittite lineage had proved to be advantageous as they discussed the fate of the two Princes and the strategy for the coming weeks.

Barates blew warm breath into his cupped hands. The night was cold and clear as desert nights went, well-suited for traveling at the blistering pace they would be making. The advance lines would make nearly 60 miles per night, sleeping during the heat of the day.

The infantry and baggage train would take longer, but would clear nearly 30 miles each day until their destination was in sight. The horse cavalry, supplied with the chunky Hittite and Scythian mounts from the steppes, would accompany the infantry and stores.

Only the fast moving camel corps would push on for fast arrival.

Barates' listened with satisfaction as the camel corps moved into formation, the bushars prodding and cursing their companies into order, while the camels set up groans and cries that could be heard to the Great Sea.

The white-bearded Bel-Asur came alongside the strong dromedary and touched Barates foot. Barates looked down at the old man, secure in the knowledge that his interests would be served here by his Advisor.

"A fine night for traveling," he smiled at the wizened Cappadocian.

"Indeed, my King," the nearly toothless man cackled. "The two Princes will be in Cappadocia within a course of 3 suns. Never fear. If we are attacked, they will not survive. The Lion of Babylon has been advised."

"Thy blessing, wise father?" Barates asked.

"You have it," Be-Asur assured him. "Chemosh be with you."

"He is," laughed the Cappadocian King and pointed to the sky. "Can't you hear it? The call of the carrion birds?"

He raised his quirt in a salute. "Farewell, Bel-Asur. When next we meet, Cappadocia will be free."