The news raced across the Negev with the speed of light. Or, so it seemed. When word arrived in Petra, King Obodas II was at first surprised and then deeply touched by the news.

"Shulai," Obodas confides. "I have misjudged them."

"Who, My Lord?"

"The Romans and Sextus Pompieus. While I was thinking how shabbily they had used us, they were in Gaza preparing to serve as an honor guard for my dear departed nephew and his family. . . . And reports say that the force is comprised of not only Nabataean cavalry but also Judaeans, Egyptians, and Romans?"

"Yes, My Lord. So the report says."

Obodas is a person who delights in discovering symbolism in ordinary things and events. "How appropriate that the honor guard is comprised of representatives of those men who served with Malichus against Parthia! And it is led by his old friend and comrade in arms. This is a greater honor than I could have hoped. Yes! I am looking forward to meeting this Sextus, Son of Pompieus. Bring him to the palace as soon as he arrives."

"Yes, My Lord," Shulai bows. "If you will excuse me, I must go to meet the procession."

"Yes, of course, Shulai. I will eagerly await your return."

Shulai rushes down the Palace steps to his waiting chariot. He speeds off, down the colonnaded street, past the market and the theatre, and into the Siq, the narrow cleft in the surrounding mountains which serves an entrance to the city. Once in Gaia, the suburb at the Siq's entrance, Shulai joins the Council, priests, and priestesses just as the procession comes into view.

"Salaam, Most Highly Esteemed Sextus, Son of the Pompieus who is known and honored by one and all as 'The Great.' " Shulai bows deeply before Cnaeus Pompieus Minor. "We of Nabataea welcome you and your men and we thank you for the honor that you do our king and his household." He adds. "I am Shulai, Chief Minister to King Obodas II, and your humble servant."

Cnaeus Pompieus shifts uneasily in the saddle before responding. "Salve to you, Chief Minister of Nabataea. Unfortunately, I am not Sextus. He is my brother. I am Cnaeus Pompieus Minor. Sextus is in the North, still engaged in the Parthian campaign."

"Oh, pardon me." Shulai bows deeply, embarrassed. I had never met your brother so I assumed . . . . ."

"No offense taken. My brother would be here if he could. Our father also sends his condolences to you on the loss of your great king. Father regrets that he never had the opportunity to meet him."

"Ah, yes, thank you," responds Shulai with a bow. "You are most kind."

The priests and priestesses begin chanting and mourners begin wailing as the procession moves in a cloud of incense slowly into the Siq.

The procession ends at the Royal Palace. The urns are placed in a large reception hall for public veneration. Lamps are lit and the mourners and clergy take their places around the perimeter of the room to continue their wailing, chanting, and incense burning.

When this is done, Shulai conducts Cnaeus into a private area of the palace. "These will be your rooms while you are in Petra. It is my hope that these poor quarters will meet with your approval."

Cnaeus takes in the lavish scene with a glance. "It is quite satisfactory, thank you," he responds.

"When you are rested and refreshed, my King requests your presence."

Cnaeus nods in acknowledgement as he gratefully accepts a cooling drink from one of the maidservants.