by Peter Darman
Thus far the battle had unfolded exactly as I wanted. But the day was still young and much was left to do.
‘Follow me,’ I shouted to my horsemen behind, then wheeled Remus to the right as he broke into a trot.
Much as I would have liked to watch Domitus and his men cut their way through the enemy, I too had work to do. The cataphracts followed me as I cantered away from our centre, Nergal and his horse archers advancing forward to fill the large gap we had left and to begin shooting arrows at the enemy horsemen opposite. The ground was hard and parched, and soon great clouds of dust were being created by the thousands of feet and iron-shod hooves that were trampling the earth. We rode on, keeping parallel to the enemy’s left wing, whose members were now preoccupied with returning the fire of Nergal’s men. I glanced left and through the haze tried to see any enemy horsemen. I saw none. I continued riding forward for another minute or so then turned Remus left.
‘Wheel, wheel,’ I shouted as Remus shifted speed and tried to move into a gallop. I restrained him; he would need all his reserves of strength this day. There was no point in exhausting him. I glanced behind; my men were still following me. On we rode, the sounds of battle now clearly audible on our left. I slowed Remus down into a trot, then a walk and then halted him altogether. Those behind me did likewise. Enius, Orodes and Gotarzes fell in beside me.
‘We must be behind their battle line now. We will face left and form a line here, on me,’ I said. They both nodded and Enius and Gotarzes rode back to their men.
It took some time to form nine hundred cataphracts into an attack formation made up of one-hundred man companies drawn up into wedge formations. Each wedge was made up of fifty men in two ranks that were both widely spaced. I rode up and down the line and told the commander of each wedge not to employ horns for signalling. We would make our appearance unannounced.
My own cataphracts were in the centre of the line and I took up position at the tip of one of the wedges, Orodes on my left and slightly behind me.
‘Keep safe, Orodes.’
‘You too, Pacorus.’
I raised my kontus, pointed it forward and then nudged Remus to move. He snorted and began walking, while behind me a hundred others did likewise. The clash of steel and cries of men were getting louder in front of us as we broke into a trot and then a canter. I glanced left and right and saw every kontus levelled, ready to strike. I gripped my shaft with both hands tightly on my right side and leaned forward. The sounds of battle grew louder and ahead I could make out figures on horseback moving forward — lightly armed horse archers with bows in their hands and quivers at their hips. We thundered forward, broke into a gallop and screamed our war cries. Directly ahead of me, sitting on a stationary horse, his mouth open in surprise, transfixed by terror, was a bareheaded man wearing a light brown shirt and holding a bow. He did not move as the point of my lance pierced his side and the shaft plunged into his torso. As I released the grip on my kontus he still wore a look of surprise as I raced past him, drew my sword and slashed the rider behind him across the chest, knocking him from his saddle.
We hit the rearmost ranks of the opposition’s left flank with the force of a lightning bolt. At first the enemy was surprised, and after several hundred of them had been skewered, slashed, had their skulls caved in by maces, and been run through, they panicked. These men were lightly armed horsemen, mostly archers but some spearmen also, but they had no chance against heavily armoured cavalry. Some attempted to rally and attack us but their blades made no impression on our scale armour and were easily brushed aside. Most turned their horses around and attempted to flee, not to the rear at first, but towards the centre of their own army. They thus careered into other horsemen attempting to advance in the opposite direction to meet us. The result was chaos, and on the edges of the maelstrom, like wolves circling sheep, my cataphracts were picking off their victims with ease. We retained our formations and kept tight to the enemy, hacking and slashing with our blades and maces. We discovered that most of the enemy horsemen did not have swords only long knives, and it was pathetic to see them try to stab us with them, only to be run through or disembowelled because their blades did not have the reach to harm us. These men also wore no helmets and so many of those under the command of Enius put away their swords and used their maces instead, bringing the weapons down on felt caps and splitting skulls in an orgy of slaughter. We pressed on.
I do not know how long we were in the melee, perhaps an hour, probably less, but suddenly, when my sword blade and armour were smeared with blood, the enemy in front of us evaporated. The entire left wing of the Narses’ army had disappeared. Many lay dead but most had fled the battle on their horses. It did not matter. Horns blasted around me and our tired ranks reformed. I suddenly felt exhausted but knew that victory was near. Ahead I saw cataphracts clustered around Narses and the other kings, who were still observing the battle to their front. I peered left but all I could see through the dust was a large mass of foot soldiers with their backs to me.
I turned in the saddle. ‘Kill Narses, kill Narses.’
Our horses were sweating and grunting and the men were tired, but they fell into their wedge formations once more. I saw Orodes. His helmet was dented and his armour torn, but he grinned at me to indicate that he was fine. I saw Gotarzes some distance away but of Enius there was no sign. Narses and his heavy cavalry were fresh and they still carried their lances. We had to quickly close the distance between them us and to stand any chance of victory. I raised my sword and dug my knees into Remus’ flanks. Horns blasted. He reared up onto his hind legs and hurtled forward, the other riders following.
Once more we hurled ourselves against the enemy, only this time they did not break. Narses had noticed us and was desperately trying to deploy his cataphracts to face us. We were upon his men before they could charge us, but they merely threw down their lances, armed themselves with their close-quarter weapons and met us head-on. And so began a grim battle of attrition, sword clashing against sword and mace against mace. I was suddenly beside a great brute whose face was contorted in hate, and who brought his sword down in an attempt to split my helmet. I parried the blow with my sword and then swung the spatha in a scything movement towards his head. I got lucky — the point sliced his neck. He screamed, clutched at the wound and then fell from his saddle. I suddenly felt an intense pain in my right cheek, as if a red-hot iron had been placed on my flesh. I turned and saw a horseman on my right side who had just hit me with his mace, the blow striking my helmet’s right cheekguard. He drew his weapon back to deliver another blow but at that moment Orodes severed his hand with his sword. The man squealed like a stuck pig and rode away. I nodded my thanks.
‘Are you hurt, Pacorus?’ he shouted.
My face burned with pain. ‘No,’ I lied, ‘I’m fine.’
Around us hundreds of men were fighting for their lives. I saw Narses on his black steed perhaps only fifty paces from me, and beside him the serpent-like Mithridates. I clenched my hand tightly around my sword’s handle.
‘Orodes, with me,’ I shouted, and then urged Remus forward.
A group of my Duran cataphracts closed around me as I charged forward once more. I felt nothing but intense loathing for the two rebel leaders as I closed the gap between us, screaming Narses’ name as I did so.
Whatever Narses was he did not want for courage. He directed his horse straight towards me and attempted to lop off my head with a deft swing of his sword. I ducked the blow and tried to strike him with a backswing, but he was too quick for me and blocked the strike with his blade. He wheeled his horse around as my cataphracts fought his, and then came at me again with a series of attacks directed at my head and neck, for those were the only places where his sword could cut flesh. I was tiring now and found it difficult to defend his powerful strikes, but salvation came from an unlikely source. I had caught sight of Mithridates, wild-eyed and clearly terrified, before I got to grips with Narses, but now I saw him again, this time
turning tail and running away. His flight spread panic among the other kings of Narses’ entourage and soon they were doing likewise, taking their bodyguards with them. Narses also saw this undignified retreat. He moved his horse away from Remus and pointed his sword at me.
‘Our business is not finished, boy.’ Then he wheeled his mount away and galloped after his fleeing allies.
The fight now went out of the enemy. Those who could made good their escape, others threw down their weapons and pleaded for mercy. A blast of horns to my left signalled the arrival of Nergal and his men. I ordered him to take them and pursue Narses and his entourage, though I doubted that they would succeed judging by the sweat-lathered state of their horses and riders slumped in their saddles. I gave the orders for the cataphracts to reform into line as ahead I spotted the locked shields of the legion coming into view. They were marching at a steady pace, trampling the dead and dying among the enemy. There was no resistance now as the enemy foot, what was left of them, had seen their lords desert them and had either ran for their lives or else dropped to their knees in front of the legionaries and begged for mercy. They were shown none. Those who surrendered and threw down their weapons were killed as soon as the first legionaries reached them. Then I saw Domitus and felt a surge of joy. He was standing next to one of leading centuries, pointing with his gladius for the men to maintain their order. An enemy soldier, a spearman, seeing Domitus cast aside his weapon and fell to his knees, his hands clasped in front of him like a man in prayer, imploring Domitus to save his life. The latter stepped forward and plunged his blade into the man’s chest, then walked on. Such is war.
Then I saw the ranks of the Babylonian foot come into view, ragged compared to the legion. But at least they still existed. The side of my face still burned and I could feel blood trickling down my neck. I sheathed my sword and removed my helmet. The cheekguard that had been hit by the mace was dented and its hinge smashed. Around me were men sitting on their horses in a state of exhaustion, the scales on their armour battered and missing, their mounts similarly spent. Orodes appeared at my side and surveyed the view ahead. Dead men and slain horses lay scattered all around. Behind us was a similar trail of carnage where we had cut through the enemy’s flank, the earth strewn with slain horse archers. The currency of war is blood and this day the army of Narses had paid a high price.
‘You have won a great victory, Pacorus.’
‘We have won a great victory, my friend.’
I told him to muster the cataphracts and then I rode over to where Domitus lined up with his men. They had halted now, the legionaries leaning on their grounded shields, grinning to each other — glad to be alive. They cheered as I approached and I raised my hand in recognition of their applause. I halted Remus in front of Domitus and he raised his arm stiffly in a salute. Always the Roman.
He now had his beloved cane in his hand, pointing it at me. ‘Nasty wound. You should get it seen to. You broke them, then?’
There was not a scratch on him as far as I could see. ‘Yes, we broke them. We hit them hard in their rear ranks and after that they never recovered. How many did you lose.’
He smiled. ‘Hardly any as far as I can tell. Once we got tight and cosy with them they couldn’t do much apart from be our pincushions. Easy, really.’
‘Train hard, fight easy,’ I said. ‘Narses escaped.’
He spat on the ground. ‘That is shame. You will have to fight him again, though I reckon there’s not much of his army left.’
A rider thundered up and saluted. He wore the colours of Phraates.
‘Hail, highness. King Phraates requests your presence in the company of the other kings.’
I raised my hand in acknowledgement and gladly took the water flask that Domitus offered.
Domitus saw legionaries drinking from their flasks. ‘Don’t gulp it down! Take sips. You don’t know when you will be having your next drink. Save some.’
I put my helmet back on. ‘I must pay my respects to the king. Get the wounded seen to and collect anything of use and put it in the carts. And collect our dead. We shall commit them to the fires tonight.’
Orodes and Gotarzes joined me as we walked our horses across the battlefield.
‘Where is Enius?’ I asked.
‘Dead,’ said Gotarzes, ‘spear straight through his eye.’
‘He was a good man,’ added Orodes.
‘He certainly was. How many more did we lose?’ I asked.
Gotarzes shrugged. ‘Forty or fifty.’
As far as I could tell Phraates had not moved from the spot he occupied at the start of the battle, and I noticed that Chosroes had now joined him. No doubt he had taken no part in the fighting either, and I assumed that neither had his men. I suddenly grew fearful for the safety of my father, as the army of Chosroes had been deployed on my father’s right flank. My fears disappeared when I saw him, white cloak billowing behind him as he too rode up to pay homage to Phraates. I saw no marks on him as he caught up with me a couple of hundred paces from the high king. He rode up beside me and saw my blood-smeared face.
‘Are you badly hurt?’
‘No, father, I will live, and unfortunately so will Narses and Mithridates.’
He looked ahead. ‘Phraates will forgive you that, I think. I am less inclined to do so.’
‘Oh?’
‘There was no need to fight this day. Narses was ready to yield, or at least discuss matters, but you were determined, weren’t you. Could not let it rest. Well, you have your victory.’
‘Our victory, surely?’
He said no more and in truth his words did not diminish the sensation of euphoria that I felt, which was increased further when we reached Phraates.
He clapped his hands when we reached him, provoking his bodyguard and the ranks of axe men to begin cheering. Phraates, previously inclined to negotiation, was now basking in the glow of triumph.
‘Hail to you, Pacorus, the bringer of victory. First you defeat Porus and now you are instrumental in dispersing Narses. A truly great day.’
I bowed my head. ‘The victory is yours, high king.’
This seemed to delight him even more, for he again clapped his hands frantically.
‘I hereby make you lord high general of Parthia. Let all those here bear witness to my words, for Pacorus of Dura has today become the sword of Parthia.’
More cheering and applause erupted and the pain in my face seemed to magically disappear. I raised my arms aloft as the axe men started chanting my name. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I noticed that my father was frowning, an expression noted by Phraates, who had the commotion stilled instantly.
‘King Varaz, you disapprove of your son’s new appointment?’
He bowed his head. ‘No, majesty, but there is still much work to be done.’
Phraates waved his hand at my father. ‘Nonsense, you are far too serious, just like your father before you. Let us rejoice that God has granted us victory and that He has sent your son to be our deliverer.’
And so it was that I became lord high general of the Parthian Empire. Afterwards, when Alcaeus was stitching my wound as I sat on a stool in camp outside my tent, Domitus brought me the casualty figures.
‘Fifteen dead, sixty wounded, none seriously.’
‘It is a credit to you, Domitus. You have turned the legion into a fearsome machine.’
He seemed unmoved by my flattery. ‘They were trained to do a job and they did it. Straightforward, really.’
‘Have you noticed that Domitus doesn’t have a scratch on him,’ remarked Alcaeus. ‘You should take some lessons from him.’
He finished stitching and tied off his handiwork. ‘It will heal, but you’ll have a scar. Nothing I can do about that.’
‘Ha!’ said Domitus, ‘Gallia won’t like that.’
‘Indeed,’ said Alcaeus. ‘Perhaps you should be the kind of king who sits in his palace and sends others to fight his wars.’
I stood up. ‘The day that
happens, I’ll order Domitus to run me through with a sword, for such a king is dead already.’
Alcaeus shook his head. ‘A poet as well as a warrior.’
Nergal rode up and dismounted, taking off his helmet as he handed a squire his horse. He looked dirty and tired, his sweat-drenched hair matted to his head. I pointed to a stool and he sat on it. Domitus poured him a cup of water that he drank greedily.
‘Lord Enius’ body has been conveyed back to Ctesiphon for cremation on the orders of Phraates. Orodes is escorting the body.’
‘What are our losses?’ I asked.
‘Five of your own cataphracts are dead, forty more belonging to Enius and twenty-five of those who fought under Gotarzes’ banner were also slain. Of my horse archers, a hundred are dead and a similar number wounded.’
Alcaeus put his instruments back in his leather bag and slung it over his shoulder. ‘That’s me working through the night, then.’
‘There are other physicians,’ I said. ‘You are, after all, in charge of the medical corps. I would like you to attend the victory feast that is being held at Ctesiphon tomorrow evening.’