The Slave King

by Peter Darman

  The Slave King

  Peter Darman

  Copyright © 2018 Pete Darman

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  Formatted by Jo Harrison

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  List of characters

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Historical notes

  List of characters

  Those marked with an asterisk * are Companions – individuals who fought with Spartacus in Italy and who travelled back to Parthia with Pacorus.

  Those marked with a dagger † are known to history.

  The Kingdom of Dura

  Aaron: Jew, royal treasurer at Dura Europos

  *Alcaeus: Greek, chief physician in Dura’s army

  *Byrd: Cappadocian businessman resident at Palmyra, formerly chief scout in Dura’s army

  Chrestus: commander of Dura’s army

  Claudia: daughter of Pacorus and Gallia, princess of Dura, Scythian Sister

  Eszter: daughter of Pacorus and Gallia, princess of Dura

  *Gallia: Gaul, Queen of Dura Europos

  Kalet: chief lord of Dura Europos

  Lucius Varsas: Roman, quartermaster general of Dura’s army

  *Pacorus: Parthian, King of Dura Europos

  Rsan: Parthian, governor of Dura Europos

  Scelias: Greek, head of the Sons of the Citadel

  Talib: Agraci, chief scout in Dura’s army

  Zenobia: commander of the Amazons

  The Kingdom of Hatra

  *Diana: former Roman slave, now the wife of Gafarn and Queen of Hatra

  *Gafarn: former Bedouin slave of Pacorus, now King of Hatra

  Other Parthians

  Akmon: King of Media, son of King Spartacus

  Atrax: prince of Media

  Cookes: Governor of Mepsila

  Joro: commander of Media’s army

  Parmenion: High Priest of the Temple of Shamash at Irbil

  †Phraates: King of Kings of the Parthian Empire

  Soter: chief lord of Media

  Non-Parthians

  Lusin: Armenian, Queen of Media

  Rasha: Agraci, Queen of Gordyene

  Spadines: Sarmatian, close ally of King Spartacus

  Spartacus: adopted son of Gafarn and Diana, King of Gordyene

  Titus Tullus: Roman, former tribune in the army of Quintus Dellius

  Chapter 1

  Rsan, now in his early seventies, had served the city of his birth diligently during his tenure, first as a minor official and then as its governor, replacing his friend Godarz when the latter had been basely murdered. Rsan was a curious individual: abstemious, reserved and a stickler for rules and regulations. He was also averse to war, which I explained on numerous occasions was a view I too held. But I also believed in the maxim, ‘if you want peace, prepare for war’, and so under my guidance men such as Lucius Domitus, Kronos and now Chrestus created and maintained an army that not only defended Dura but also the Parthian Empire. Despite his dislike of all things military and the chaos and destruction of warfare, Rsan was also a stern disciplinarian, urging the city magistrates to clamp down ruthlessly on crimes of violence and theft. Murderers, rapists and thieves were hanged outright, minor transgressors were whipped, and blasphemers lost a body part, usually an ear or finger, or had their tongues bored if their words were particularly disrespectful. This ensured Dura remained a law-abiding city, which in turn resulted in a happy citizenry and made Rsan a popular governor.

  It was testament to that popularity that he walked from his mansion the short distance to the Citadel for council meetings and other business either alone or accompanied by a clerk or manservant. He always refused Chrestus’ offer of an armed guard wherever he went in the city, declaring he had lived to a good age without guards and saw no reason to enlist them now. In weekly council meetings he always sat next to his friend Aaron, the city treasurer, who was now a grandfather. Apart from Chrestus, my muscular, shaven-headed general, all of us who gathered round the table in the Headquarters Building were over sixty. It would soon be time to introduce fresh blood to the administration of Dura.

  After the usual round-up of affairs in the city and kingdom, the usual bickering began between Chrestus and Aaron regarding finances for the army. My treasurer was querying why soldiers in training damaged so many javelins, shields and shot so many arrows, when I held up a letter from Claudia.

  ‘This arrived earlier from Princess Claudia. She and the Exiles are returning to the city, my daughter to attend her sister’s wedding.’

  The clerk taking notes scribbled furiously to record my words, though who would read the dozens of papyrus sheets stored in the archives – the record of Dura’s council meetings going back years – I did not know. Aaron and Rsan nodded their heads.

  ‘At least we will have the Exiles back where they belong, instead of acting as Phraates’ personal bodyguard,’ grumbled Chrestus.

  Following the Battle of Ctesiphon, the Exiles had stayed in the marching camp south of Phraates’ palace to enforce security in the Kingdom of Babylon, the city having rebelled against him during Tiridates’ insurrection. A thousand had garrisoned Babylon itself, though following the crushing of the revolt the city’s nobility were eager to reaffirm their loyalty to Phraates, especially after the high king had executed the entire Egibi family and other prominent Babylonians who had supported Tiridates.

  ‘Ctesiphon has reimbursed Dura handsomely for the loan of your soldiers, general,’ remarked Aaron. He was perusing a parchment in front of him, running a finger over a list of figures. He looked up at me.

  ‘I was wondering, majesty, if I we might loan out Dura’s soldiers in the future, as the recent experience has proved most beneficial to the treasury.’

  ‘We won’t be doing that,’ insisted Chrestus.

  Aaron smiled at him. ‘Surely, that is for the king to decide.’

  Chrestus gave him a dark stare but I discounted the idea.

  ‘The loan of the Exiles was an exception, Aaron. Dura’s soldiers are not mercenaries to be hired out to the highest bidder. They exist first and foremost to protect this kingdom.’

  But Aaron had the bit between his teeth.

  ‘Forgive me for being pedantic, majesty.’

  ‘But you are going to be anyway,’ complained Chrestus.

  ‘But you despatched commanders Azad and Sporaces to Ctesiphon with their horsemen,’ continued Aaron, ‘for a campaig
n that may last perhaps a year, in the process incurring considerable costs.’

  ‘It is in Dura’s interests to do so,’ I stated.

  Aaron was going to probe me with more answers but Chrestus had had enough.

  ‘It’s quite simple,’ he hissed. ‘If the Kushans breach the empire’s eastern frontier they will swarm west like a plague of locusts, just like Tiridates did recently. It is in Dura’s interests to keep war as far away from its walls as possible. I would have thought you would appreciate that strategy, Rsan, as you tremble at the mere hint of conflict on the horizon.’

  Rsan turned his nose up at the general and Aaron mumbled something under his breath.

  ‘The Kushans will be far worse than Tiridates,’ said Gallia, ‘and he was difficult enough to deal with.’

  None at the table aside from me knew about her part in his downfall and I preferred to keep it that way. I changed the subject.

  ‘Princess Claudia will be journeying with the Exiles, as will Phraates himself.’

  My announcement at first did not register, the clerk merely recording my words, but then a look of alarm spread across Rsan’s face.

  ‘The king of kings, visiting Dura?’

  ‘That is correct, Rsan,’ I said. ‘The recent rebellion against him has made Phraates determined to spend less time at Ctesiphon so he can visit the capitals of the kingdoms he rules over, or so my daughter informs me.’

  Rsan was stunned. ‘In all my time serving Dura I never thought the high king of the empire would visit this city.’

  His eyes began to moisten, much to Chrestus’ amusement.

  ‘For more years than I care to remember, Dura was regarded as a city of outcasts, a place where the empire’s unwanted were banished to. The Euphrates was not only a river but also a dividing line between what was decent and what was barbarian, and Dura was on the wrong side of that line.’

  His voice was now shaking with emotion. ‘But now it will be blessed by the person of the king of kings himself, and his visit will proclaim to the whole world that Dura is no longer a despised backwater but a loyal and trusted ally, first among equals.’

  They were heartfelt words and made me realise just how much the visit of Phraates would mean to him.

  ‘That it has become so is due in no small part to your unstinting efforts, Rsan,’ smiled Gallia. ‘You are the rock upon which this kingdom has been built.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ I agreed, ‘and I will be sure to inform Phraates of that when he arrives.’

  Rsan dabbed a tear from his cheek and Aaron put an arm around his old friend’s shoulders. But then my governor’s eyes filled with apprehension. He rose to his feet and bowed.

  ‘The city is not ready to receive the high king. If you will forgive me, majesties, I must speak with Ashk as a matter of urgency.’

  ‘There is plenty of time,’ I reassured him.

  Rsan shook his head. ‘The whole of Parthia will be watching, majesty. I must attend to my duties.’

  He bowed and hurried from the room, prompting Chrestus to roll his eyes.

  ‘Let’s hope Phraates is not too much of a disappointment to Rsan when he finally meets him.’

  ‘Well, it is high time he did so,’ said Gallia. ‘Dura has spilt much blood and lost too many valued friends keeping Phraates on his golden throne for the high king to ignore us.’

  ‘How long will he be staying?’ asked Aaron, no doubt his mind already turning to the expense entailed in playing host to the king of kings.

  ‘That will depend on how agreeable he finds Dura and its kingdom,’ I told him.

  ‘Not long, then,’ grinned Chrestus. ‘Dura is a poor relation compared to Ctesiphon, Babylon and Seleucia, places where the high king is accustomed to spending his days. He will want to be away from here as quickly as he can.’

  ‘I am surprised you think so little of this kingdom, general’ remarked a disapproving Aaron.

  ‘On the contrary,’ said Chrestus, ‘I prefer a Dura without rich trappings, fawning courtiers and armies of priests. We keep things simple here and I prefer it that way. Phraates, on the other hand, is used to drinking out of gold rhytons, eating off silver plates and reclining on luxurious couches.’

  I stared at the wooden cup before me on the table and knew Chrestus was talking the truth. But I smiled when I remembered that during his ‘exile’, Phraates had been living in a simple stone hut in the Alborz Mountains, hundreds of miles away from the opulence of Ctesiphon.

  ‘The high king will take us as he finds us,’ I said, ‘though I think we might all be surprised by a change in him since the recent rebellion. If not, then I am certain he will not dally in Dura.’

  But I had to admit the fact he was even visiting Dura marked a radical change in the official policy of the king of kings. When I had been a boy and the empire had been ruled by Sinatruces, my only memory of Dura, and a fleeting one at that, was of a wild place where the empire’s unwanted were exiled to. The River Euphrates marked the Parthian Empire’s physical western boundary and it was no coincidence Dura was on the river’s western side. It was apart from the empire, different, desolate and separated from civilised society by a wide river. It was a place no self-respecting Parthian would ever visit, and that had included my father and mother who had never blessed Dura with their presence even after I had been appointed its king. And even Orodes, though he had spent a good portion of his life here at Dura, had never made an official visit to my kingdom when he had become high king, though that was due to his insistence on visiting every other kingdom in the empire as a means of promoting good relations between Ctesiphon and the rulers of those kingdoms. I often wondered if the constant travelling the length and breadth of the empire had worn him out and led to his premature death. I refused to believe his son had poisoned him.

  Aaron was less impressed by the prospect of Phraates visiting Dura; aware as he was of the financial strains such a visit would place on the kingdom.

  ‘Having been paid by Ctesiphon for the services of our soldiers,’ he complained, ‘it would appear the high king is intent on Dura reimbursing him said gold.’

  ‘Phraates is visiting to attend Eszter’s wedding, Aaron,’ I told him, ‘not to get his gold back.’

  An evil glint appeared in Gallia’s eye.

  ‘You might be interested to know, Aaron, that the king was offered a thousand talents by Phraates as a reward for his services in crushing the late rebellion. The king refused the offer.’

  Aarons’ eyes opened wide in astonishment. ‘A thousand talents?’

  ‘Gold plundered from the House of Egibi,’ I informed him. ‘I wanted no portion of riches stolen from a murdered family, even if its leading members were traitors.’

  ‘Such an amount would have bolstered the treasury’s reserves,’ said Aaron.

  ‘The treasury is full, is it not?’ I queried.

  ‘The word “full” has a number of interpretations, majesty,’ began Aaron.

  ‘That means yes,’ said Chrestus.

  ‘Perhaps I should send you to Vanadzor, Aaron,’ I suggested. ‘You and King Spartacus appear to hold the same views when it comes to extorting money from the high king.’

  ‘Majesty, I would never seek to…’

  I held up a hand. ‘And I would never accuse you of doing so, Aaron, but the treasury will be bearing the cost of Eszter’s wedding and the visit of the high king. I will not have it said that the King of Dura skimped when it came to his daughter’s wedding.’

  ‘Will the King of Gordyene be attending, majesty?’ enquired Chrestus.

  ‘He will be invited,’ answered Gallia, ‘though I doubt he or Queen Rasha will be gracing us with their presence, not after the business at the king’s sixtieth birthday celebrations.’

  ‘That is a great shame,’ said Aaron, behind him the clerk recording every word uttered on papyrus.

  ‘And what of King Akmon and Queen Lusin?’ asked my treasurer. ‘I assume an invitation will be extended to the new rule
rs of Media?’

  ‘That should stir up a nest of vipers,’ said Chrestus. ‘If King Spartacus discovers his estranged son and the Armenian, what did he call her, whore? If he discovers they are coming there will be hell to pay.’

  ‘I will not be dictated to by my nephew concerning who will and who will not be attending my daughter’s wedding,’ I said.

  ‘It is yet to be decided if an invitation will be extended to the new rulers of Media,’ announced Gallia.

  After the meeting I walked back to the palace with Gallia, the courtyard largely devoid of activity as the midday sun roasted Dura from above. There was no wind and the heat was oppressive, sweating legionaries pacing the walls of the Citadel and others standing to attention in the shade of the palace porch. They snapped to attention as we passed, rivulets of sweat running down their necks to soak their tunics. In the heat of summer guards were replaced at hourly intervals to stop them collapsing due to dehydration. Even in the shade, temperatures could rise to high levels and sap the stamina of men wearing mail armour, helmets and equipped with shields, swords, daggers and javelins.

  It was warm inside the porch and entrance hall, the doors to the throne room open to allow what little air there was to circulate.

  ‘It would be politic not to invite Akmon and Lusin to the wedding,’ suggested Gallia, ‘it is not as if they are close relations, after all.’

  I nodded. ‘That is true, though an invitation would be a way of showing Dura’s support for the new rulers of Media.’

  ‘And a way of insulting Gordyene.’

  I stopped to look at her. ‘Do you know, I am getting heartily sick and tired of having to tiptoe around Spartacus. He acts like a petulant child but expects everyone to treat him as a mature adult.’

  ‘Perhaps if he learns Phraates is attending, Spartacus might put aside his animosity towards you.’

  ‘Me? What about your machinations, plots and schemes, together with your fellow female conspirators?’ I asked her. ‘I was not the one who engineered Akmon and Lusin becoming Media’s rulers.’