by Peter Darman
In front of the palace at Seleucia, between the gatehouse and the grand building itself, is a large paved area that was created during the time of the founding of the city by Seleucus I Nicator. I decided that it would be a suitable venue for the executions, being able to accommodate a large number of people who would bear witness to the event. I ordered Domitus to use the Durans to man what was left of the city walls and patrol the streets to enforce the curfew that was put in place until the condemned had been executed. Three cohorts of the Exiles would be drawn up on three side of the square, with more of their comrades lining the walls facing inwards to bear witness. On the north side of the square where the palace stood, I, together with Gallia, my senior officers, Nergal, Praxima, Phriapatius and his sons, would observe proceedings from the top of the palace steps.
So eager had I been to rid the world of Mithridates that I had given no thought to the manner in which he would be put to death. Domitus suggested crucifixion while Vagises favoured impalement. Though the thought of Mithridates wriggling on the end of a sharpened pole hammered into his rectum or nailed to a cross was appealing I decided against both methods. For one thing the victim could take days to expire and I wanted Mithridates dead as quickly as possible. In the end we settled on strangulation, but then had to organise the making of four crosses that would be set upright in the ground, against which the condemned would be secured. That night a dozen of the city’s carpenters laboured to fashion the crosses, which when ready were transported to the palace and planted in the ground, but not before several of the flagstones had to be removed so holes could be dug in the earth underneath.
The dawn came soon enough and with it the procession of the condemned from their tower to the place of execution. Rank upon rank of Exiles stood motionless as three of the prisoners were escorted in a single file into the square, two legionaries carrying the unconscious Nicetas by the arms behind them.
I stood between Gallia on my right side and Nergal on my left as the men made their final journey on earth. I think Mithridates still did not believe he was going to die as he cast disdainful glances left and right before fixing me with a hateful stare. Gallia sneered at him but he ignored her as he scanned those gathered on the steps. He noticed Phriapatius and spat on the ground to show his disgust. Phriapatius grunted contemptuously in reply.
Four burly centurions had been given the task of being executioners, the one earmarked to throttle Mithridates being Thumelicus. As two legionaries manhandled the former king of kings against his cross the realisation that he was going to die finally gripped him. His eyes bulged wide as his arms were pinioned to the crossbeam and then he began shaking violently as his legs were bound tightly to the post.
Beside him Udall threw up and began pleading with the guards to let him go, saying he had been forced into Mithridates’ service. When the leather straps were fastened around his legs he pissed himself in fear. In comparison the Thracian showed no emotion as he was secured against the cross, looking at me with an unwavering iron stare, while next to him the limp body of Nicetas was lashed to his cross.
Mithridates was whimpering by now, looking at us with tear-filled eyes, imploring us to save him, after which he began sobbing like a small child, entreating us to show pity. But there was no mercy within us that day. I took no pleasure in killing helpless individuals but the memory of my father, Godarz, Drenis and Kronos steeled my determination.
With the victims secured those standing behind them placed leather straps around their necks, the straps being twisted with sticks behind the posts to tighten them round the condemned necks. The executioners looked at me and I nodded, then they twisted the sticks further to choke the prisoners. Thumelicus, being the big angry brute he was, twisted the stick so quickly that he actually broke Mithridates’ neck, the sharp crack being heard around the windless square. Within a minute it was all over and the victims’ bodies hung limply on their crosses.
Domitus dismissed the cohorts as we returned to the palace. I thought I would be elated but actually I felt relieved; relieved that the spectre of Mithridates that had haunted the empire for so long was no more. But in many ways his death was an irrelevance to the strategic situation. The Armenians still controlled all of northern Hatra and parts of Gordyene, and soon Crassus would arrive at the head of his army to further add to the empire’s troubles.
Domitus suggested that we hang the bodies of the executed from the city walls but I ordered them to be burned and their ashes scattered over the Tigris. Those Cilicians and Sarmatians that had been captured were sent under escort to Axsen at Babylon, there to serve her kingdom as slaves for the rest of their lives. They numbered less than five thousand but at least they could be distributed among the kingdom’s villages to assist in the rebuilding work being undertaken in the aftermath of two invasions at the hands of Narses and Mithridates.
The captives left the next morning, a column of unshaven, barefoot, filthy men chained together and escorted by five hundred of Vagises’ horse archers, who were under orders to kill any that showed any signs of rebelliousness. Sitting on Remus near what had been Seleucia’s gatehouse I watched them trudge out of the city west towards Babylon, their heads cast down, a sullen silence hanging over them. The only sounds were the tramp of their feet on the ground and the clinking of the chains around their ankles.
‘You do not seem very pleased with your victory,’ said Gallia on Epona beside me.
I pointed at the line of slaves. ‘That was me once, in Cappadocia many years ago. Chained just like that and condemned to a life of slavery.’
‘Then free them,’ she said, ‘it is within your power if you find their circumstances so disagreeable.’
‘I cannot. They will only cause trouble and Babylonia needs all the manpower it can get to repair the devastation visited upon it.’
‘You could always enlist them in the army,’ she suggested.
I was appalled. ‘Dura does not use mercenaries, men who would change sides for a few drachmas. They are untrustworthy, expensive and lack discipline.’
‘Well, then, you are better off without them. At least Axsen will be able to make use of them.’
In front of us the end of the column walked disconsolately out of Seleucia and into the desert.
The next day Axsen herself arrived at the city escorted by a hundred purple-clad riders. This time we stood at the foot of the palace steps to greet the queen whose city this was. She slid off her horse as I bowed my head to her. She embraced me and then Gallia, Nergal and Praxima and I introduced her to Phriapatius and his sons. It was a potentially awkward moment as the king had formerly been an ally of Mithridates and Narses. But Axsen smiled warmly at him and Phriapatius for his part was most eager to endear himself to Babylon’s queen and the king of king’s wife.
‘Carmania stands ready to assist your majesty in any way that you see fit,’ he promised as he and his sons laid their right hands on their chests and bowed deeply to her.
Axsen was delighted by their pledge of allegiance. ‘You are very kind and I thank you. Babylon is delighted to have Carmania as an ally.’
Axsen turned and ushered forward the commander of her escort. I recognised him as the officer I had first encountered at Babylon’s Marduk Gate following Narses’ second siege of the city.
‘This is Demaratus. I have appointed him commander of Babylon’s garrison. He is a man Lord Mardonius had great faith in.’
I thought I detected Axsen’s voice falter when she mentioned the dead commander of Babylon’s army, but she smiled when Demaratus bowed his head to us.
‘It is good to see you again, Demaratus,’ I told him.
‘And you, majesty,’ he replied.
I walked beside Axsen as we ascended the steps and entered the palace. Legionaries were standing at every stone pillar and at every doorway.
‘I see that my palace is well guarded, Pacorus,’ Axsen noted as we walked across the intricately laid mosaics that led to the columned courtyard.
Axsen giggled. ‘Oh, Pacorus, always so formal. And thank you for the gift of the slaves. We passed them on the road. They will prove most useful.’
At the entrance to the royal suite we halted and bowed to her as she took her leave, asking for Gallia and Praxima to accompany her into her private chambers. In the palace square meanwhile, workmen were re-laying the stone slabs that had been removed to allow the wooden crosses to be planted in the ground.
Later Axsen gave a great feast in the banqueting hall in celebration of our victory at Seleucia. Thus far she had said nothing concerning the execution of Mithridates but did so now as I sat beside her at the high table before the assembly of all the senior officers of the armies of Dura, Mesene and Carmania and the queen’s Babylonians.
‘I am glad he is dead,’ she told me, ‘but I fear Orodes may not approve of your actions.
This came as no surprise to me. ‘As his lord high general I acted according to what I believed would serve the empire best, majesty. At the very least Mithridates will no longer be a figure for malcontents to rally around. The empire cannot afford to be fighting a civil war at the same time as a conflict with the Romans and Armenians.’
‘What will the Armenians do now that the Romans have decided to invade Egypt rather than Parthia?’ she asked, a slave pouring wine into her gold rhyton.
I waved the girl away when she held the silver jug over my drinking vessel. ‘Tigranes has conquered northern Hatra and his soldiers are camped only sixty miles or so from the city itself, but without siege engines he has little hope of seizing it, especially now Orodes is there to reinforce Gafarn.’
Axsen sipped at her wine. ‘But Tigranes has agreed to a cessation of hostilities, has he not?’
I smiled. ‘Only because it suits him to do so. His forces muster at Nisibus and his son campaigns to conquer Gordyene. With a hundred thousand men at least he can afford to pick his moment to attack us again, and let us not forget that Crassus will be arriving in Syria soon.’
She replaced her rhyton on the table. ‘You do not paint a very rosy picture, Pacorus.’
‘It would have been far worse had Aulus Gabinius struck east instead of south.’
‘It was a miracle that he did so.’
I thought of Dobbai’s night ritual. ‘Yes, a miracle indeed.’
The assembled officers enjoyed the evening immensely and as the time passed and the wine flowed drunken oaths of loyalty were pledged between all and sundry. Thumelicus managed to find a Carmanian who was bigger than he and the two of them stood on a table and declared their undying friendship. The bearded Carmanian monster held Thumelicus’ arm aloft and declared to the assembled that the German was the slayer of maskim, to which everyone cheered and drank more wine.
‘Who is maskim?’ asked Gallia as Thumelicus and his new companion fell off the table onto the floor to rapturous applause.
‘Demons of the underworld,’ answered Axsen.
‘He was the one who strangled Mithridates,’ I said, pointing at the very drunk Thumelicus whose nose was bleeding profusely from hitting it on the floor.
‘Then his new title is most apt,’ replied Axsen.
Notwithstanding the descent into mass drunkenness the evening went well and it was good to see Axsen smiling, though she must have been grieving for the dead Mardonius and missing Orodes terribly. I drank too much wine and had to be helped to bed by a very merry Gallia who wanted me to make love to her. I remember hurriedly stripping off as my wife disrobed. I lay down on the bed, and then inexplicably tried to unwind the bandage on my left arm before passing out.
I woke up to loud banging on the door to our room and opened my lead-like eyelids with difficulty, the banging and shouting from behind the door making my headache worse.
‘Majesties,’ I heard a man shout, ‘your presence is required in the throne room.’
The thumping on the door continued and I saw Gallia rise from the bed.
‘Enough!’ I shouted, sending a spasm of pain through my skull. ‘We hear you! Stop banging on the door or I will have you flogged.’
The banging ceased abruptly and I hauled myself to my feet. I had a mighty hangover, my head hurt, my stomach was delicate and my mouth felt parched.
‘Queen Axsen is asking for you, majesties,’ said the male voice.
I walked over to the door and was about to open it when Gallia called to me.
‘Are you going to put some clothes on or are you intent on frightening the guards?’
I realised that I was naked and so picked up my shirt and then pulled on my leggings as Gallia wrapped a robe round herself.
‘Tell the queen we will be with her shortly,’ I called to the guard.
Ten minutes later, feeling the worse for wear, we walked into the throne room to find Nergal, Praxima and Phriapatius already in attendance.
‘I am sorry for disturbing your sleep,’ said a smiling Axsen, ‘but I thought you would like to hear the latest news from the north.’
My heart sank. The Armenians must have taken advantage of our disappearance from Hatra to launch an attack against the city. I looked forlornly at Gallia. Surely the city had not fallen?
Axsen stood with a letter in her hand. ‘The gods have sent another miracle. Tigranes is dead.’
Gallia smiled and then threw her arms round me. Nergal offered me his hand and I took it before Praxima kissed me on my unshaven cheek.
‘Dead?’ I asked. ‘How?’
She sat back down on her throne and held up the letter.
‘This arrived earlier from Hatra. Word reached the city two days ago that the Armenian king had died peacefully in his bed at Nisibus.’
I was most surprised. ‘The last time I saw him he was fit and healthy, despite his great age.’
Axsen nodded. ‘Orodes states that all the reports he has heard confirm that Tigranes was in rude health and after an evening meal retired to his bedchamber as normal. Rumour is that a wolf was heard howling very near to the palace in the city and that despite soldiers carrying out searches in and around the building no animal could be found, but its howling was heard by all and sundry throughout the night.
‘In the morning servants went to rouse the king but found him dead in his bed. Most strange.’
I looked at Gallia who cast me a knowing glance – the magic of Dobbai continued to work it would appear.
‘What does this mean?’ asked Phriapatius.
‘It means, lord,’ I said, ‘that Parthia is in a far better position that it was a week ago. Mithridates and his rebellion have been crushed and now Tigranes is dead. His son Artavasdes will become the King of Armenia, but he does not have the talents of his father.’
‘The gods smile on the empire,’ said Phriapatius with satisfaction.
‘They might still piss on it,’ pondered Nergal, looking at the surprised faces of Axsen, Gallia and Praxima, ‘begging your pardon, ladies. But the Armenians still have an army of one hundred thousand men and Crassus is still on his way.’
‘Nergal is right,’ I agreed, ‘but at least we have more time in which to plan our next course of action.’
After I had washed and eaten breakfast Axsen convened a council of war on the spacious veranda in the palace’s north wing.
Against a backdrop of stunning views of the Tigris and the surrounding terrain the queen asked for my advice in my capacity of lord high general. It felt more like a gathering of friends for a picnic than a council of war. Apart from Phriapatius I had known the others present for years so the meeting had a very relaxed air about it. Nergal sat with his feet on a stool while Gallia and Praxima were seated either side of Axsen.
‘I will take my army back to Dura,’ I announced first. ‘Despite Tigranes’ death the Armenians remain the main threat before Crassus arrives.’
‘We will be coming with you,’ said Nergal, prompting Praxima to smile at me. ‘If Hatra falls then there
will be nothing to stop the Armenians and Romans marching south into Babylon and then Mesene.’
‘I will stay with my army if you wish, Pacorus,’ offered Phriapatius, prompting Axsen to smile at him.
It was a generous offer and thirty thousand troops would certainly strengthen a weakened Babylon. However, thirty thousand men and thirty thousand horses, to say nothing of the thousands of camels that attended the king’s army, would place an enormous strain on the already overburdened resources of the kingdom. Such a large number of men and beasts would quickly empty the granaries of Seleucia and nearby Kish and Jem det Nasr.
‘I was thinking rather, lord,’ I said to him, ‘that you would consider being deputy lord high general to keep the east of the empire secure, and to garrison the cities of Persepolis and Sigal on behalf of King Orodes.’
Persepolis was the capital of the Kingdom of Persis, formerly ruled by Narses, while Sigal was the capital of neighbouring Sakastan, formerly ruled by King Porus but subsequently absorbed by Narses. Now those two cities were garrisoned by troops taken from Babylonia and Susiana. It made sense for them to be replaced with loyal troops so that they could be sent back to their respective kingdoms, especially Babylon, which had recently lost its garrison at Seleucia.
Phriapatius was surprised. ‘A most generous offer, King Pacorus,’ he looked at Nergal, ‘but there may be those who would object to such an appointment. It was not long ago that we were at war and now you wish me to keep watch over the lands east of the Tigris.’
‘I know that you were an unwilling participant in the alliance of Narses and Mithridates,’ I said, ‘but I leave it to King Nergal to have the final say in the matter. It was, after all, his kingdom your army marched into during the recent civil war.’
Everyone shifted uncomfortably in his or her chairs but Nergal bore no grudges. The fact was that he had confined the Carmanian Army into a narrow corridor and had forced it to retreat back across the Tigris before it could do any major damage to his kingdom, and Phriapatius to his credit had kept his men under tight control and had not allowed them to rape or plunder.