by Peter Darman
‘You heard his majesty,’ barked Kuban. ‘Answer his question.’
The man’s eyes were full of fear as they looked at me, blood pouring from his ear socket.
‘No Narses,’ said weakly, ‘he sent us to reinforce Chosroes. Water, please.’
Gallia walked away. ‘Kill him, Kuban.’
I winced as Kuban drew his blade across the man’s throat. He passed from this life as blood gushed from his neck onto the earth. I followed Gallia.
‘We ran into a patrol earlier and killed all of them except that one. Kuban has some very useful skills when it comes to extracting information.’
I stopped her and placed my hands on her shoulders. There were black rings round her eyes and she looked very tired.
‘You must rest.’
She shook off my hands. ‘I will rest when my daughter is safe.’
Gallia looked at my men leading their horses to drink from the river. ‘Is that all you brought?’
‘More are coming. More to the point, how many do we face?’
‘Fifteen thousand, according to that piece of carrion we captured.’
‘When did they arrive?’
‘Five days ago. They have yet to assault the city but it cannot be long before they do so.’
Fifteen thousand was a big army, but I was not as worried now as I was when I first heard that Dura was under siege. Parthians have no knowledge of siege warfare, save surrounding a city and starving it into surrender. Then Gallia dashed my hopes.
‘He told us that Chosroes knew that the city would be weakly defended because its army had marched north, and he has brought siege towers with him.’
‘Siege towers?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but they had to be dismantled and then reassembled once at the city. He told us that the assault would take place tomorrow. We have to get to Dura today.’
I grabbed her arm; she wrenched it free.
‘Wait, Gallia, please wait. We cannot attack fifteen thousand men with just over a thousand. We must wait until Nergal and Orodes arrive. That at least will even the odds.’
Her blue eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t care about odds, all I care about is my daughter.’
‘So do I, but getting ourselves killed will not help her.’
Her eyes misted with tears and I held her close. ‘Have no fear, remember that Godarz is in command of the city and he has engines at his disposal.’
Byrd and Malik rode further south with a score of horsemen to try to discover more information, but I forbade them to take any risks or engage any enemy they might encounter. I did not want them to be staked out in the sun and tortured, or worse. While I waited for them to return the men and women took the opportunity to rest, fill their bellies and tend to their horses. Several of the latter were lame due to the exertions of the journey and so they and their riders would have to be left behind. This further reduced our numbers, and though Kuban and his officers wanted to attack the enemy without waiting, I knew that our only hope lay with Nergal and Orodes. Nergal arrived that evening with his horse archers and the lords and their retainers. I was delighted to discover that Atrax and Vistaspa accompanied them, along with two thousand of Hatra’s horse archers and another three thousand of Media’s horse archers.
‘The rest of Hatra’s army, together with the forces of the other kings, are marching down the east bank of the Euphrates, majesty,’ he said formally. Same old Vistaspa. Then he added. ‘Your foot under Domitus are following in our wake on this side of the river.’
It was a happy reunion and as the men relieved their horses of their saddles and prepared an evening meal, the senior officers gathered under a gnarled old date palm to decide what to do. The mood was relaxed as we drank water and chewed on hard biscuit. I estimated that we now numbered over seventeen thousand men, excellent odds for the morrow. And crucially, Orodes’ own and Dura’s cataphracts were following close behind.
‘The heavy cavalry will be here tomorrow, Pacorus,’ reported Nergal, ‘together with the camel train carrying armour, arrows, fodder and food.
‘Are you planning to wait for their arrival before you attack?’ asked Vistaspa, his long black hair now streaked with grey.
‘Wait?’
The atmosphere changed suddenly with Gallia’s arrival.
‘Wait for what, wait for my city to fall or for my daughter to be skewered on the end of a spear?’
Vistaspa tried to maintain his sense of decorum, bowing his head to Dura’s queen. ‘I was merely endeavouring to ascertain if…’
‘Useless words,’ she spat, ‘we attack tonight.’
A look of horror crossed Vistaspa’s face, though I was unsure whether it was caused by him being spoken to in such a manner by a woman or the thought of tired men and horses fighting a battle in the dark. To his credit he retained his composure.
‘Majesty, it would be unwise to attack now.’
But Gallia was in no mood for arguments. ‘Unwise? Is it wise for a soldier to contradict a queen?’
Vistaspa’s face hardened and his eyes flashed with anger. He had, after all, been royalty himself in a former life.
‘Gallia,’ I interrupted, ‘the horses are exhausted after a long ride. They will not perform well in combat in such a state, and night battles are confusing affairs at best.’
‘It is not the Parthian way to fight in the darkness,’ added Atrax.
The prince of Media was a brave men and a good friend, though his notion that fighting enemies face to face in daylight was more honourable than killing them at night made little impression on my wife, who now spun round to face him.
‘Not the Parthian way? What is the Parthian way, boy, to sit under a tree and do nothing while my people are butchered?’
Atrax’s eyes were wide with alarm as Gallia advanced upon him, the ferocious Kuban backing her up.
‘Enough!’ I shouted. ‘If we argue among ourselves the victory of Narses will be our only reward. Gallia, we wait until Byrd and Malik return, and then we will make our plans. Until then the men and horses will be rested.’
Gallia sneered at me, turned and strode off into the night followed by her loyal hound. I excused myself and went after her, catching her up and then walking beside her as she went back to the Amazons.
‘You know waiting till it’s light makes sense,’ I said.
‘Do I.’
‘More men will be arriving tomorrow.’
She stopped and faced me. ‘Men? I’m beginning to wonder if there are any men in Parthia.’
‘That is unfair.’
She eyed me coolly. ‘I remember a time in Italy when we fought at night to rescue the army of Spartacus.’
‘That was different.’
She would have none of it. ‘No it wasn’t. If Claudia dies then her blood will be on your hands.’
I tried to put my arm around her but she brushed away my affection and went back to her women.
An hour later Byrd and Malik returned and reported that the army of Chosroes had made no assault on the city. I thanked Shamash for that. But they suspected that the attack would be made imminently as four siege towers had been placed before the western wall. This made my heart sink — Dura’s walls were stout but not particularly high; siege towers meant soldiers could be placed on top of the city’s walls with ease. We had to attack in the early hours. They also told me that the pontoon bridge had not been destroyed and that there were in addition enemy soldiers on the eastern bank of the Euphrates. This offered some hope as it meant that the enemy had dissipated his strength by dividing his forces. I thanked them both and told them to get some food and rest, although it was now only a couple of hours before the dawn.
It was still dark when I assembled the senior officers and told them of my intentions. I had not slept a wink, partly because I had been formulating a plan of attack but mostly because Gallia’s words were still ringing in my ears. I had not shaved since leaving the kings and I felt dirty, but no worse than the tired individuals ga
thered around me. We stood in a circle next to the old date palm once more, Gallia’s eyes boring into me. Kuban once more attended her, who looked no different from the first time I had met him. Perhaps he was a demon from the northern steppes that required no food or sleep. Atrax kept glancing at his sister-in-law but avoided her gaze when she looked in his direction.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘We will break camp immediately and ride south to Dura. Nergal, you remain here with the lords and wait for Orodes and the heavy horsemen and the camels. I have learned that the enemy has soldiers on the eastern side of the river as well as camped in front of the city. Therefore, if we can seize and hold the bridge across the river we will divide his army and make the odds more favourable.’
We broke camp and headed south. I threw a party of scouts led by Byrd and Malik ahead to ensure we did not run into the enemy on the way, but as the dawn broke and light filled the world we saw no activity ahead. We halted and waited for them an hour after dawn, though Gallia once again vented her frustration at the lack of action. However, when they returned and reported the road ahead was clear for the next five miles we once again commenced our journey. Ten miles from the city we divided our column. Vistaspa and the bulk of Hatra’s horse archers would keep to the road so they could seize the pontoon bridge and hold it, while I took the Amazons, my own two hundred men, Kuban’s thousand warriors and Atrax’s horsemen into the desert. This would take us more time to reach the city but would allow us to deploy into line and attack the enemy from the west. I still worried that we were too few and had insufficient ammunition but the die was cast.
I could see Dura’s Citadel shimmering in the distance now; we were only around half an hour away from our destination. I slowed the column and then halted it, and called together the commanders. Kuban may have been good at torturing the helpless and he certainly looked like a warrior, but he and his men were an unknown quantity when it came to the battlefield, so I placed them on the right wing. My own men and the Amazons I deployed in the centre, with Atrax and the Medians on the left. I wanted Gallia close to me when we attacked so I could keep an eye on her and try to prevent her from doing anything rash when we reached the city. Then we moved forward at a canter.
Dura was plainly visible now, its yellow walls and towers set against a blue sky. Rising above the walls was the Citadel standing defiantly. I could see the enemy camp as well, scores of brightly coloured tents of various sizes filling the plain directly in front of the city, plus hundreds of camels that transported provisions for the army of Chosroes. Hundreds more horses were tethered in compounds. Curiously, they had made no use of the walled camp that usually housed Domitus’ legionaries and which now stood empty.
‘Open order,’ I commanded, which was passed along the line. We would have to move through the horses, camels and tents before we reached the enemy’s troops. And then I saw the siege towers looming above the tents. It was difficult to tell, but it appeared that their sides were covered in hide as protection against arrows. Not that there appeared to be any arrows being fired from the walls.
We flanked Domitus’ camp, then rode into the enemy’s compound and threaded our way between the camels, horse compounds, wagons, campfires and tents. The enemy army may have been drawn up in front of the city but there were still many people milling round, mostly camp followers — wives, whores, the deranged and hawkers — a veritable army of non-combatants who trailed every army, though I tried to discourage such hangers-on in Dura’s army. A half-naked woman, a whore no doubt, came out of a tent with her breasts exposed. She froze when she saw us, and then died when one of my men put an arrow through her throat. It was a good shot.
‘Ignore them,’ I shouted, ‘save your arrows.’
I nocked an arrow in my bowstring as we left the camp, infirm enemy soldiers and civilians scattering before us. We rode on towards the rear of the enemy army. I saw few horsemen save officers riding up and down with swords in hand berating their men to move forward. The army of Mesene was as ragged as I remembered it, but it made for an imposing sight. Archers, spearmen with shields, slingers and men armed only with axes and clubs filled the area in front of Dura’s western wall. We fanned out into a long line of two ranks and moved into a canter, then a gallop. I saw the towers ahead, archers packed on their top platforms searching for targets on the walls or towers, but I could see none of Dura’s garrison.
At a range of five hundred paces we began loosing our bows, firing at a rate of five arrows a minute as we quickly closed the distance between ourselves and the enemy’s rear ranks. The shouts and war cries of the Mesenians, expecting the walls to be conquered by the siege towers, drowned out the sounds of our horses’ hooves, so that the first they knew of our arrival was the sight of their comrades collapsing on the ground, their bodies pierced by arrows. Most wore no armour and more than a few had no helmets, so our arrows easily found flesh and bone. Around twenty thousand arrows had been fired before they realised what was happening. Then we were less then fifty paces from them, loosing arrows as we abruptly wheeled our horses’ right and then retreated, shooting a final shot over the rear quarters of our animals. A line of Mesenian dead bore testament to the success of our first charge. As we had done a hundred times in training, we halted five hundred paces from the enemy and then wheeled right once more, before commencing another charge against them. By this time the enemy had realised what was occurring and their officers were frantically trying to realign their ranks to form a wall of shields and spears against us. I strung an arrow and shot it, and then shot another and another as we hurtled towards them, then yanked Remus to the right once more, but this time enemy arrows were being shot back at us. Horses and riders went down as we pulled back. I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach as I desperately sought out Gallia. There she was, leading her Amazons, shooting arrows and for the moment safe.
Relief.
Back we went, loosing arrows and taking more casualties, and then we fell back once more to regroup. I reached into my quiver. Empty! I looked left and right and saw other riders similarly out of missiles. In front of us the Mesenian line, battered and littered with dead, still held. I ordered a halt to be sounded and considered our next action. And then I saw a wondrous sight. From within the city what appeared to be black rocks arched into the sky and fell on and around the siege towers. One, two, three and then a fourth, hurtling into the sky and then smashing into the wooden towers. When they struck a tower or crashed onto the earth they turned into a fireball. How was this possible? Then I realised that they must be clay pots filled with the Chinese liquid that was kept in the armoury. But how were they being launched? In minutes one of the siege towers was ablaze, burning figures hurling themselves from the top platform, then a second caught fire and exhilaration swept through me.
‘What is causing that?’ Gallia was at my side, pointing at one of the burning towers with her bow.
‘I have no idea,’ I replied. ‘But I thank Shamash for his miracle. I am out of arrows.’
She shoved her bow back in its case. ‘Me also.’
Around us men and women began cheering as a third tower was hit by two Chinese fireballs and erupted into flames. We might have failed to break the enemy line, but the attack on the city had been stopped in its tracks.
Then I heard frantic horn blasts and looked to my left, to see a line of horsemen armed with spears, protected by round shields and wearing helmets hurtling towards Kuban’s men. The latter in turn charged them and they smashed into each other with a sickening crunching sound that echoed across the battlefield. Enemy cavalry had hit us with a devastating counterattack against our left wing. I placed my bow in its case. I forgot about the enemy foot soldiers in front of us — we had to help Kuban or our flank would be rolled up.
‘Form column,’ I shouted, ‘follow me.’
I tugged on Remus’ reins with my right hand to turn him left, then shouted at him to move. He knew every inference and tone of my voice and broke into a gallop. I wrapped
his reins round my left wrist and drew my sword with my right hand. Horns blasted and Gallia, the Amazons the rest of the horsemen careered after me. We formed a loose wedge as we closed the gap between the enemy horsemen that were going to work with their spears, parrying the swords and spears of Kuban’s men with their shields. Already they were cutting their way through the northern horsemen, who to their credit were fighting back and giving ground reluctantly. Then we hit the flank of the Mesenians and in no time a frantic melee erupted. I swung my sword at the neck of a passing horseman, the blade biting deep into his flesh and knocking him from his saddle. I felt a searing pain in my left arm and turned to see a spear blade had brushed my flesh. I yanked on Remus’ reins and he turned away from my assailant, who directed his own mount in an attempt to skewer me with his lance. I raised my sword and brought it down to cut through the wooden shaft, then brought it up and thrust the point into the man’s thigh. He yelped in pain and turned his horse away to beat a retreat. And so it went on, stabbing, slashing and thrusting at fleeting targets as they came within range. Screams, shouts and obscene language filled the air. My men tried to stay close to me, tried to maintain some semblance of discipline, but it was hard as individuals became locked in combat and absorbed in their own private battles. Riderless horses, wild-eyed and bleeding, bolted from the carnage while others, too hurt to move, stood still and then collapsed on to the ground.
There was a blast of horns and the Mesenians began to disengage and fall back. They obviously had had enough, for the moment. Other horns sounded, our own, and we too fell back to regroup. Gallia and the Amazons appeared mercifully unhurt. We reformed into our companies, the ground in front of us sprinkled with dead and dying men and horses, though in truth, considering the great effort that had been expended hacking and stabbing, there were fewer casualties than I expected. But there were many wounded, men with wounds to their bodies, arms and legs, and also horses that had been gashed by blades. I checked Remus over; I could not see any wounds.