by Peter Darman
‘Well, then,’ said Kronos, ‘what are we waiting for? We must march north to fight the Armenians at once.’
Dobbai chuckled. ‘And if you did, then you and your men would be carrion for crows. You cannot defeat the empire’s foes without assistance.’
‘Who will aid us, old woman?’ asked Thumelicus, a leg hanging over his chair’s arm.
‘The Agraci?’ offered Vagharsh.
‘The Agraci?’ she said derisively. ‘They can barely defend their own patch of scorpion-infested desert.’
‘Then who?’ asked an exasperated Domitus.
‘The gods,’ I said, thinking aloud.
Dobbai nodded her head. ‘The gods, exactly. I intend to call upon the divine ones for their help.’
Drenis looked at Thumelicus who burst out laughing.
‘There may be some among you,’ continued Dobbai, observing Thumelicus with an icy stare, ‘who believe the gods do not exist. More fool them. Only the gods can help the empire, and only you can help me summon them.
‘All of you have fought by the side of the king for many years and are his most trusted and loyal companions.’
Thumelicus winked at me and smiled. Dobbai saw him.
‘Though the gods have blessed some of you with a surfeit of brawn at the expense of a deficit of brains.
‘I therefore ask each of you to support your friend and king by taking part in a ritual to summon the help of the gods. I ask this of you but do not command, for each of you may face danger.’
‘What danger?’ asked Thumelicus. ‘We don’t have to jump over a pit full of snakes or sharpened stakes do we?’
‘Don’t worry, Thumelicus,’ said Drenis. ‘No self-respecting snake would ever sink his fangs into your sour-tasting German flesh.’
‘The gods are cruel and vengeful,’ continued Dobbai. ‘They often demand a high price for their help. They might demand each of your lives. So think carefully before you make your choice.’
She fell silent and looked at me first. I had to admit that I felt nervous, not for myself but for my friends gathered round me.
‘For myself, I have always desired the empire to be strong and free, therefore I will assist you. But do you need all of us?’
‘Yes,’ she shot back. ‘Six of your best men who have stood beside you in battle.’
‘Count me in,’ said Thumelicus casually. ‘Anything other than standing guard duty.’
‘I will assist you,’ said Domitus.
‘And I,’ added Kronos.
Drenis nodded at Dobbai, as did Vagises.
‘Me too,’ said Vagharsh.
Dobbai nodded approvingly. ‘Good. You are all to assemble in the throne room tomorrow, just before sunset.’
She walked across the terrace, opened the doors and disappeared, leaving us all none the wiser. Thumelicus rose from his chair, belched and followed her as the rest of us trooped after him in silence. We had known Dobbai long enough to know that her warnings and prophecies were not to be dismissed lightly, and I think all of us were a little apprehensive about what the following evening would bring.
The next day, after my early morning ride, with Scarab accompanying me I joined a company of horse archers on their way to the shooting ranges. These were located south of the city and comprised rows of targets at differing heights and angles, which horsemen shot at as they rode past. Scarab had never shot a bow in his life and so practised on foot as I emptied my quiver from the saddle. Afterwards we extracted the arrows from the targets and returned those that were undamaged to our quivers and took the broken ones back to the armouries to get replacements. Aaron was always complaining about the amount of arrows that were lost on the ranges but as I had told Rsan when he had been treasurer, a pint of sweat saves a bucketful of blood. Train hard, fight easy.
Scarab’s horse was a dapple-grey mare that had a dependable and steady temperament the chief stable hand assured me. She had a sturdy frame and powerful legs to carry the strapping Scarab. I thought they matched each other well.
‘I shall call her Panhsj, divinity,’ announced Scarab.
‘An unusual name,’ I said.
‘It is the Egyptian word for “Nubian”, divinity.’
‘An excellent choice,’ I agreed.
The evening came soon enough and with it a flurry of activity in the palace as Dobbai ordered the servants to leave their quarters and the guards to return to barracks. The sculptors had arrived mid-afternoon with their work and had been ushered into the throne room, the doors of which were locked after they had deposited their handiwork and departed. As the sun began to dip in the west the whole palace was empty apart from Dobbai, who stood at the top of its steps with her arms folded.
After I had left Remus at the stables I dismissed Scarab and walked into the Citadel’s empty courtyard, the only individuals on view were the guards at the gates and on the walls. I saw Thumelicus exit the barracks and walk towards me, followed by Vagises and Vagharsh. They all nodded to me as we gathered at the foot of the steps. Minutes later Domitus, Drenis and Kronos strode through the Citadel’s gates, all of them dressed in full war gear. Indeed, I noticed that all of them were attired as if for battle whereas I only carried my sword and dagger. Perhaps they knew something I did not.
When all seven of us had assembled Dobbai waved us up the steps and led us through the porch and reception hall to the closed doors leading to the throne room. It seemed odd to see no guards posted at the columns and either side of the doors, and odder still to discern the absolute silence all around.
‘Open the doors, son of Hatra.’ Dobbai’s words made me jump as she held out a large iron key to unlock the doors.
I took it from her, walked to the doors and turned it in the lock. I made to enter but she laid a bony hand on my arm.
‘Me first.’
She pushed open the doors and ordered us to follow her. Our footsteps on the tiles echoed round the empty chamber lit by oil lamps. I saw six statues of what appeared to be sitting animals of some kind arranged in a line in front of the dais and also cages containing chickens. Dobbai turned and held a hand up to us to stop our progression as she walked onto the dais and faced us.
‘Each of these clay figures represents a divine one whose aid I wish to summon. These figures will act as vessels through which the gods will send their assistance. Each of you will bear a figure and by doing so you will reveal yourself to that god. He will then know you, for good or ill.’
She pointed at me.
‘Stand beside me, son of Hatra, for I will summon the gods on your behalf and you must be visible to all of them.’
I walked forward and stepped onto the dais and faced the others. I saw that each statue resembled a sitting hound, though the facial features were more like those of a demon, with bulging eyes, large fangs and a snarling visage. They looked hideous. Each one was also painted a different colour and had a chain around its neck, to which was attached a piece of tamarisk into which had been carved the name of a god.
Dobbai pointed at Kronos and then at the yellow-painted statue on the right-hand end of the row of clay dogs.
‘Stand behind the statue and place your right hand on its head to call Shamash.’
Kronos did as he was told.
‘Speak these words,’ she barked. ‘I call upon you, O Shamash, great lord, to look with favour upon my handiwork. Through thy righteous power may I have abundance of strength. With strong weapons for the fray, protect my soldiers. May my weapons advance and strike and overthrow the weapons of the enemies.’
Kronos repeated the words. Dobbai pointed at Domitus and instructed him to stand next to Kronos and place his right hand on the orange-painted statue, and then to recite the words she spoke, which this time called upon Adad, the god of storms, for his aid. Drenis laid his hand on the next statue in the line, this one painted blue and representing Anu, the sky god who is in charge of the Bull of Heaven sent to earth to avenge the gods. After Drenis had finished his speech to Anu, V
agises stepped forward to stand behind the purple dog that represented Marduk, the supreme god. Vagises recited the summons with solemnity, as did Vagharsh who laid his hand on the head of the green hound, representing Ninurta, the god of war who fights with a bow and arrow and a sickle sword. Last came Thumelicus who recited Dobbai’s words to summon the demon Pazuzu who protects humans against plague and evil forces. This hound was painted red and had a particularly gruesome face for Pazuzu had the head of a monster.
Dobbai stepped off the dais to the cages containing the chickens, opened one and removed its captive. She walked over to where Kronos stood with his hand on the statue dedicated to Shamash; slit the chicken’s throat with a knife allowing the blood to gush over his hand, arm and the statue. She held her arms aloft, the dead chicken in one hand, the bloody knife in the other, and called upon Shamash.
‘Expel the malevolent ones God of the Sun.’
She fetched a second chicken and sacrificed it over Domitus’ hand, calling upon Adad.
‘Consume their lives fierce one.’
The statues of Anu, Marduk, Ninurta and Pazuzu were likewise doused with chicken blood. With each slash of her knife Dobbai implored the deities to kill and put the empire’s enemies to flight. By the time it was over the floor was covered in blood, feathers and dead chickens.
Thumelicus must have muttered something to Vagharsh because Dobbai spun on her heels and glowered at him.
‘Silence! The gods are close and none of you may speak in their presence.’ She looked at me. ‘Not even you, son of Hatra.’
She walked back to the now empty cages and picked up two small earthenware containers and waved me over. She handed them to me and then bent down to pick up another, then turned to face my comrades.
‘Time to unleash the gods,’ she said. ‘Each of you must carry your sculpture from the palace to the riverbank. Do not talk; keep your eyes ahead. Above all keep a tight hold of your statues. You must walk behind me, son of Hatra.’
She walked over to the doors and opened them as I trailed after her and the others picked up their gore-covered clay statues and filed after us. At the doorway she stopped and pointed to me.
‘Pour the contents of the containers you hold on the threshold.’
I removed the cork from one and poured the contents, which was milk, across the threshold as instructed, then did the same with the contents of the other container, which was honey.
Dobbai bowed her head. ‘By milk and honey I ensure peace and prosperity within this palace.’
We walked through the reception hall and into the porch and I saw that the courtyard below was ringed with guards, though each legionary was facing the walls.
‘Avert your eyes,’ bellowed Dobbai, ‘any man who looks round will be struck dead at once by the divine ones.’
We followed her across the courtyard to the gates where she poured oil across the entrance from her container, spreading her arms and looking to the heavens.
‘With oil I seal this portal and protect all within.’
The route from the Citadel to the Palmyrene Gate was lined with soldiers, all of them likewise facing away from the street along which we now walked. At regular intervals along the route legionaries held torches to illuminate our journey, while in front of us Dobbai recited chants and prayers in a language I had never heard before.
On we walked, through the Palmyrene Gate and then north along the western wall of the city, more legionaries lining our route as we moved beyond the city walls to change course towards the banks of the Euphrates. It was night now but the land was illuminated by a full moon that cast everything in a ghostly pale grey glow. There was no wind and the air was warm and dry.
At the river we left the guards and at the water’s edge were told to halt by Dobbai, who hissed that none of us was to say a word until we had returned to the Citadel. She scurried back to the centurion commanding the final detachment of guards and instructed him to take his men back to camp.
She led us to the riverbank directly below the escarpment upon which the Citadel stood and instructed that the statues be placed on the ground, facing east across the river.
‘Stand back, all of you,’ she commanded, before walking to the water’s edge where she once more raised her arms to heaven.
‘O Shamash, great lord, exalted judge,’ she called, ‘the one who supervises the regions of heaven and earth, the one who directs the dead and the living, give life to these statues for the overthrow of those who desire to destroy your subjects. We bow before you and pledge our lives to you and the other gods who have blessed us.’
She let her arms drop to her sides and stood facing the water for a few moments, then turned and looked at us.
‘It is done. We must leave this place. And stay silent.’
I looked at Domitus who appeared completely bemused by it all while Vagharsh looked bored. Drenis caught my eye and shook his head. Kronos was looking at his blood-splattered arm with disgust. Vagises appeared somewhat awed by it all while Thumelicus looked disinterested. The night was completely silent and still as we followed Dobbai back to the city. I looked at the marble-smooth black surface of the Euphrates and then at the far bank. Everything was calm and unruffled. Last in line, I glanced back at the statues standing motionless a few feet from the water’s edge and then saw, to the south, what appeared to be a mist over the river.
As the seconds passed the mist seemed to be getting closer, a thick wall of whitish-grey that covered not only the water but also the riverbanks. How could this be? There was no wind to move it and yet the mist was rolling towards me. I stood transfixed by this celestial wall and then felt a tug on my shirt.
‘Hurry, son of Hatra,’ hissed Dobbai, ‘you will die if you remain here.’
I walked briskly beside her as we tried to catch up with the others, occasionally glancing back at the mist that was now not only behind us but had also enveloped the far riverbank. We caught up with my comrades and walked with them in silence along the city’s western wall to reach the Palmyrene Gate. The atmosphere had now changed from hot and airless to cold and clammy and I began to shiver. Then, suddenly, the acrid scent of sulphur entered my nostrils to make me retch.
We reached the entrance coughing and Dobbai ordered the great wood and iron gates to be closed. She ordered the guards to lock themselves in the gatehouse. By now the legionaries who had lined our route had dispersed back to barracks or camp and as Rsan, under orders from Dobbai, had ordered a city wide curfew, only eight of us remained on the main street of Dura as the temperature continued to drop.
Thumelicus rubbed his hands and breathed on them and I noticed that his breath misted.
‘We must get back to the Citadel quickly,’ hissed Dobbai.
We retraced our steps up the main street as the citizens of Dura hid in their homes and prayed to the gods that had been unleashed on the world. We quickened our pace to the Citadel, though Dobbai’s old and frail legs meant she quickly fell behind. Thumelicus stopped, turned and ran back to her and then scooped her up in his great arms and began running towards the Citadel. Dobbai did not protest as I looked back to see a great wave of mist rise up above the Palmyrene Gate.
We sprinted the last hundred paces to the Citadel and then, after Thumelicus had put her down, Dobbai ordered the gates to be closed and sent the guards back to barracks. She also shouted at those on the walls to return to their quarters. We stood gasping for air in the empty courtyard, the air now chill and burning our lungs as we gulped it in.
‘We are safe now,’ said Dobbai calmly, ‘they cannot enter. You may speak.’
Thumelicus rubbed his arms. ‘I’ve never known it to be so cold.’
‘That is what happens when the veil that separates two worlds, the one of mortals, the other of deities, is temporarily torn,’ remarked Dobbai.
‘Let us get some warm wine inside us,’ I said.
‘What is that?’ asked Kronos, cupping a hand to his ear.
We stood and looked
around and then I heard a low growl and then a snarl. The noises seemed to be coming from the shadows next to the palace.
‘A stray dog, that is all,’ said Domitus.
Then there was a louder growl and a thunderous unholy bark that sent shivers down my spine.
‘If it’s a dog it must be the size of a bull judging by that noise,’ remarked Thumelicus.
We heard frenzied barking and snarling all around and we huddled together in fear of our lives. The noises were not coming from the Citadel but from outside, from the foot of the escarpment. The angry, demonic growling, barking and snarling grew louder and louder until we were forced to cover our ears. Then it suddenly changed into a chorus of savage howls that filled the air and pierced our brains like red-hot needles. I fell to my knees and screamed in pain as the howls became higher pitched until I could take it no longer, and was on the verge of passing out. Then suddenly there was silence.
Dobbai, looking pale and exhausted, nodded at me. ‘It is over. The gods have answered my plea and have unleashed the ageless ones upon the world. Now the veil has been restored.’
‘What about that mist?’ asked Vagises. ‘I have never seen anything like it.’
‘We can see it from the palace terrace,’ I said.
We raced up the palace steps, through the porch and reception hall into the throne room, through the door at the rear that led to the private wing and the terrace. We ran onto the terrace and raced over to the balustrade to peer at the mist, except there was no mist, not a trace of it. The moonlight illuminated the still waters of the Euphrates and the surrounding terrain. There was no wind, no unworldly noises and no cold, clammy air. The temperature was once more warm and pleasant. Had it all been a monstrous dream?
We looked at each other in confusion as Dobbai wandered out onto the terrace and announced that she was going to bed and advised us to do the same. But we each pulled up a chair so we could sit and stare through the stone columns of the balustrade at the river below, intent on seeing any other divine apparitions. We said nothing to each other as we waited for the gods to reveal themselves once more, but gradually we all drifted into a deep sleep.