Maciste could hope for nothing better when Vologases got his hands on him. He’d go the way the rest of Menander’s family had. Father murdered that first night. Vologases’ diplomatic envoy had come to negotiate an agreement with the empire. Negotiations that ended with a dagger across his throat. His head still dangled on the door of the father’s throne room. In mockery.
Menander’s older brother, driven by rage, had grabbed his first opportunity. Brought into the presence of Vologases, insanely he had grabbed a sword and tried to assassinate him. He’d got nowhere near. Rash, reckless, he had given Vologases his excuse. If he had needed one.
Out of spite, the emperor had the heir mounted on a huge cross. In public nailed. Screaming at the blows to wrists and ankles. It took three days of unthinkable agony to die. His body still hung there .. in the market place .. weeks later. Rotten, stinking carrion. Vologases’ warning to others. Just give it a try!
Maciste could expect nothing different. His capture .. supposedly the younger prince taken prisoner, the end of the royal line ..A great coup. Menander’s resistance had become a symbol, a ray of light. And Vologases would snuff out that light. But not too fast. Not too easy.
Maciste had always planned to escape. Free the hostages, get away. But Tiradates had proved intransigent. The capture was his great prize, he’d be rewarded well. Getting away? No easy task.
But Maciste could not afford to stay. In this guise of the rightful king, heir, last of the line .. his death .. whatever cruel form Vologases chose .. it would be nasty. Beyond imagining. Agonising. Vengeful.
And the ultimate warning. Intimidation to others. Tread in this scumbag’s footsteps .. just give it a try. THIS is what you get.