by Peter Darman
‘I appreciate your warning, lord king, but Dura’s walls are strong and will resist any assault until I return with the army.’
He frowned. ‘It might be wise to leave some of your army behind to safeguard your city.’
He obviously did not realise how weakened Parthia was at this present juncture.
‘Alas, the empire will need every man to face the Armenians and Romans.’
He looked more serious. ‘We hear that the Romans have settled affairs in Egypt to their advantage and Prince Alexander, the man you furnished with weapons, has suffered more defeats in Judea. He and his men still fight but they have been reduced to holding a few isolated strongholds.’
I had hoped that Alexander Maccabeus, a Jewish prince who had paid me in gold for a great many weapons produced in Dura’s armouries, would keep the Romans occupied in Judea and may even eject them from the country altogether. But his army had been defeated and my hopes had been dashed.
‘Soon they will once again turn their attention to the east, towards Palmyra and Dura,’ he continued.
‘Dura will not forget its friendship with the Agraci people,’ I declared grandly, not knowing how I would be able to help him if the Romans decided to once more strike from Emesa.
‘And the Agraci will not abandon you, my friend.’
‘I see a group ahead,’ said Rasha suddenly.
I had not been paying attention to the terrain in front of us but I did so now and peered directly ahead to where Rasha was pointing. I saw shapes in the distance but they were not moving.
‘Your eyes are keen,’ said Gallia.
We halted to take stock of the situation. We had been moving slowly so as not to kick up any dust that would betray our presence and as the wind was blowing from the west we were downwind of our quarry. But gazelles are intelligent, nervous beasts and require patience and excellent horsemanship to bring down.
Rasha wrapped her reins around her left wrist and pulled the bow that had been a gift from Gallia from its case; young Spartacus did the same.
‘Come Gallia,’ said Haytham, ‘let us show these youngsters how it should be done.’
She grinned and followed him as he walked his horse left.
‘You are with me, young prince,’ Rasha said to Spartacus, urging Asad to the right. He moved his horse forward to be adjacent to me and stopped, his face pleading with me for permission to join the desert princess.
‘Off you go, then,’ I told him, ‘and make sure she does not come to any harm.’
He flashed a smile and followed Rasha. I turned to Scarab.
‘That leaves just you and me.’
Our escort waited in their saddles as we walked our horses forward to form a wide circle around our prey. In such a hunt there are never more than two riders together so as not to alarm the gazelles.
Gallia and Haytham and Rasha and Spartacus walked their horses to each flank and then began to slowly decrease the circle as Scarab rode parallel to me as we moved forward.
I could see the gazelles clearly now – four of them – and they had spotted us. As one they bolted a short distance, stopped, changed direction, darted forward again and eventually broke into a canter.
‘Keep by me, Scarab,’ I said as Haytham and Gallia urged their horses into a fast walk.
As we closed in on the gazelles we resisted the urge of our horses to break into a canter until our prey decided on the direction of their escape route. I pulled my bow from its case and strung an arrow in the bowstring as the other two groups continued to close in on the gazelles. The latter then broke into a fast run and raced right, towards Rasha and Spartacus who screamed at their horses and dug their knees into their flanks to intercept the prey. Their horses bolted and both riders leaned forward in the saddles with their bowstrings drawn back. As the gazelles ran across the front of them they released their arrows.
Two of the gazelles immediately collapsed in a cloud of dust as the missiles found their mark. Rasha then whipped another arrow from her quiver, nocked it and released it, the missile hitting the hindquarters of a third beast and sending it crashing to the ground. The fourth gazelle raced away as Spartacus put more arrows into the wounded prey to kill them. Haytham looked pained as he and Gallia came alongside me and shoved his bow back in its case, while the youngsters whooped with joy and grinned at each other like idiots.
That night I gave a feast in honour of Haytham and his daughter at which the gazelles were roasted and served to the guests. The king returned to Palmyra the next morning but his daughter remained at Dura for another week. During this time she spent the mornings training with the Amazons and the afternoons in the company of Spartacus, Scarab and Peroz. Because Dura was her second home Haytham did not feel compelled to leave a bodyguard behind, as he knew she would be safe and I would give her an escort back to Palmyra, though usually Gallia and the Amazons took her back.
On the third day of her stay, in the early afternoon after I had spent a tedious two hours in the weekly council meeting, I saw Rasha and Spartacus leading their horses from the stables, Scarab and Peroz following behind. They were holding hands and looked like two young doves, gazing into each other’s eyes. Domitus and Gallia were chatting behind me when I stopped and bellowed across the courtyard.
‘Spartacus! Come here at once.’
Stable hands, servants and guards all turned to look at me as Spartacus stared in bewilderment, then at Rasha.
‘Now!’ I ordered.
Domitus and Gallia came to my side as Spartacus ran over while Rasha held the reins of his horse and her own. Peroz followed him. Spartacus halted in front of me.
‘Uncle?’
‘What are you doing?’
‘Going to the archery ranges to train with Scarab and Peroz,’ he replied, smiling at Gallia, who smiled back and shook her head.
‘Not that,’ I snapped. ‘You must not touch Rasha.’
‘We were only holding hands, uncle.’
‘She is a princess of the Agraci,’ I told him, ‘not some servant girl to be seduced and tossed aside. You are not to see her anymore.’
My nephew looked most upset at this command and just stared at me.
‘A little harsh, Pacorus,’ said Gallia.
‘Is it?’ I hissed. ‘Every time Rasha comes to Dura Haytham entrusts her wellbeing and safety to us. Imagine what he would think if he learned that his daughter had been pawed by a squire.’
‘He would not like it at all,’ gloated Domitus, smirking at Spartacus.
My nephew bristled at Domitus’ words but did not respond. He may have been at least six inches taller than my general and almost as broad, but he had learned the hard way that Lucius Domitus was not a man to be tangled with lightly.
‘I am a prince,’ he corrected me.
‘Well, prince,’ I said slowly, ‘I am a king and I order you to report to the commander of the guard in the headquarters building. I am sure he can find you some floors to clean.’
Spartacus was going to protest but gave me a surly bow of the head, turned around and with sunken shoulders walked back to Rasha. He spoke a few words to her, kissed her on the cheek, took the reins of his horse and trudged back to the stables.
‘It is entirely my fault, majesty,’ apologised Peroz.
‘It is not your fault at all,’ I assured him.
‘It is no one’s fault,’ said Gallia, looking at me. ‘Spartacus is a handsome young man and Rasha is a beautiful young woman. It is obvious that they would find each other attractive. Sometimes Pacorus you are such a fool.’
‘I do not want to be standing before Haytham in his tent explaining why his daughter is carrying the child of a Parthian,’ I replied.
‘I do not think anything untoward has happened, majesty,’ said Peroz gravely.
I looked at him. ‘What? No, of course not. But we must take precautions to see that nothing does happen, lord prince.’
‘Agraci war party approaching,’ said Domitus, nodding at Rasha striding
across the flagstones. Behind her Scarab was now holding the reins of three horses and finding it difficult to control them. ‘Do you want me to form a testudo you can hide in?’
‘Back me up on this matter,’ I pleaded with Gallia.
‘You are on your own,’ she replied flatly.
Domitus was chuckling. ‘It is so hurtful when allies desert you on the eve of battle.’
Rasha halted before me, her brown eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.
‘Why have you forbidden Spartacus to see me?’
I sometimes forgot that she was Agraci, a people noted for their bluntness as well as their savagery. I placed my hands on her arms and smiled.
‘When you are at Dura you are my responsibility, Rasha. I am sure that your father would not approve of such familiarity with a Parthian.’
She fixed me with her eyes. ‘You have forbidden him to see me but am I allowed to go where I wish within these walls?’
I smiled again. ‘Of course, this is your home.’
Out of the corner of her eye she saw my nephew walking towards the headquarters building. She smiled back at me disarmingly, and then turned to Peroz.
‘I would like to stay here in the Citadel, lord prince.’
Peroz stepped back and bowed to her. ‘As you wish, princess.’
He really was getting more like Orodes every day.
Rasha kissed me on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Pacorus.’
I let go of her arms and looked smugly at Gallia.
‘Would you ask Scarab to take Asad back to the stables, lord prince?’ she said to Peroz, who bowed his head once more to her and us and then returned to where Scarab was struggling to retain control of the horses. Rasha walked past us towards the headquarters building.
‘Where are you going?’ I called after her.
She turned and smiled. ‘You did not say that I was forbidden to see him.’
Domitus slapped me on the arm. ‘Ha! Out-foxed by a girl.’
Gallia shook her head at me and walked back to the palace with Domitus in tow as Rasha disappeared into the headquarters building.
Later in the throne room the duty officer reported to me after I had been bored rigid for an hour by Rsan, who as the city governor was responsible for the smooth day-to-day running of Dura’s affairs. He took his duties extremely seriously to the point of obsession. Today’s topic was the programme for the paving of all the major streets in the city, which had been temporarily suspended on account of Aaron not issuing funds for the purchase of paving stones.
‘Why not?’ I asked.
‘Because of the yearly tribute.’
‘Yearly tribute?’
Rsan nodded. ‘When Mithridates, that is King Mithridates, sat on the high throne Dura did not pay any tribute, as you are aware, majesty.’
I smiled to myself. In theory every Parthian king paid a yearly tribute to Ctesiphon according to how many soldiers he could put into the field. Usually paid in gold, I had always refused to pay any tribute to Mithridates at the start of a new year, sending a letter to him instead saying that if he wanted tribute he should come to Dura and take it by force. He never did, of course, but it was an opportunity to insult him and show Dura’s defiance. But now Orodes was high king I paid the yearly tribute, as did all the other kings of the empire.
‘We have to pay the annual tribute, Rsan,’ I told him.
‘Indeed, majesty, but Aaron has informed me that because of the purchase of the Indus metal to make swords for your horsemen there is not enough money for the road-paving programme.
‘The roads will just have to wait,’ I said.
He pursed his lips. ‘We could always raise taxes, majesty.’
‘No, Rsan, we are not raising taxes. The people and the caravans are taxed enough. If they are raised the caravans might decide to travel to Syria via Hatra instead of Dura, then the treasury will be in a parlous state.’
After he had departed mumbling to himself the Citadel’s duty officer updated me concerning the activities of my nephew and Rasha.
‘They are both cleaning up in the granary, majesty.’
‘The princess should not be given any duties.’
‘She insisted, majesty,’ he said. ‘She is very tenacious.’
‘Indeed. Well, just make sure they are accompanied at all times. On no account are they to be left alone for long periods.’
‘Majesty?’
‘Just keep an eye on them.’
I was glad when Rasha returned to Palmyra but I did allow her and Spartacus to say goodbye to each other in the courtyard before she rode back to her father with Gallia and two score Amazons for company. My wife wanted to see Byrd and Noora and would escort them both back to Dura for the annual gathering of the Companions, which would take place at the start of the new year.
Rasha threw her arms around my nephew and kissed him on the cheek before vaulting onto Asad’s back. She waved at me and then Peroz and Scarab and looked longingly at Spartacus as she rode from the Citadel. For his part my nephew looked a little forlorn and I realised that Rasha was no longer a bright little girl but a young woman and I felt sad. It seemed only yesterday when we had taken her back to her father. Where do the years go?
My spirits were further dampened at the gathering of the Companions, not because it was not good to see them all; it was. But now half of them were dead and existed only as names carved on a memorial. But at least it was good to see Diana, Gafarn and their young son Pacorus, who was now a teenager. He had inherited his parent’s cheerful disposition and Diana’s charm, which made him very popular among the Companions. Spartacus welcomed his parents warmly and was perhaps appreciating what a privileged life he had been living at Hatra. After my annual humiliation at the hands of Thumelicus in arm wrestling I sat with the rulers of Hatra and discussed their eldest son while the Companions made a fuss of him. All of them had ridden from the Silarus Valley all those years ago when he had been a new-born child. Now they regaled him with tales of themselves and the man he was named after.
‘He looks happy,’ said a smiling Diana. ‘We thank you.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Gafarn. ‘Dura obviously suits him.’
‘His temper has improved,’ I said, ‘but it can still flare up when provoked.’
‘Just like his father,’ smiled Nergal.
‘He looks just like him,’ added Praxima.
‘He is in love,’ said Gallia.
Diana and Gafarn looked at her in amazement.
‘It is true,’ she insisted. ‘A young woman has stolen his heart.’
‘That is welcome news,’ said a happy Diana. ‘He needs someone to temper his anger.’
‘It is not a straightforward matter,’ I said. ‘The young woman who Gallia alludes to is the daughter of King Haytham.’
‘She is Agraci?’ said Gafarn with concern. I nodded.
‘What does that matter?’ remarked Diana.
I smiled at her. ‘To you, my friend, nothing at all. But to Hatra’s lords and ladies and the kingdom’s people a great deal. However, you will be relieved to know that I have put a stop to it.’
‘Pacorus believes that he can control affairs of the heart by barking a few commands,’ sniffed Gallia derisively. ‘He has as much chance of that as ordering the sun not to rise each morning.’
Nergal and Praxima burst into laughter and Diana grinned at them. As always they had made the trip from Uruk to be with the Companions, and as the years passed it had become obvious that they would not have children themselves. They were now both in their forties and Praxima’s child-bearing years were behind her, though Dobbai had foretold long ago that Praxima would never give birth due to the abuse her body had suffered at the hands of the Romans. And I reflected that Axsen, who was the same age as me, would also probably never have children and that saddened me – she and Orodes would have made excellent parents.
‘How is mother?’ I asked.
Diana looked at me with sympathy. ‘Still a lost soul, I am af
raid to say. She seems happy enough in her garden and Vistaspa is a great source of comfort to her, but I often catch her crying at night before she sleeps. She misses your father terribly.’
‘We all do,’ said Gafarn.
‘All Parthia misses him,’ remarked Nergal glumly.
Spartacus stayed with me at Dura when his parents returned to Hatra with their bodyguard a week later. Gafarn had told me that all was quiet with regard to the Armenians though they still occupied Nisibus and the north of his kingdom. That obviously pained him but I said there was nothing to be done about it at the present. Everything hinged upon us defeating the Romans, after which we could turn the full might of the empire against the Armenians. Though ‘might’ was an inappropriate word to use.
In the month after the turn of the new year I became a scribe rather than a general, sending letters to and receiving them from all four corners of the empire. Parthia may not have had paved roads such as the Romans enjoyed but it was fortunate in possessing an excellent postal system. Post stations established every thirty miles or so along major roads, at which couriers could pick up fresh horses, ensured that messages traversed the empire speedily enough.
I received word from Phriapatius at Persepolis that his eldest son had returned to Carmania to rule in his place while he organised an eastern army. He told me that progress was slow on account of the other eastern kings having few troops to spare due to their great losses in the recent civil war. He tactfully did not mention that I had been responsible for a great number of those losses but assured me that the army would be assembled in time. He asked about his son and I wrote back that Peroz was a fine young man who was well liked at Dura, and that his horsemen were a valuable addition to the army. I broached the subject of Peroz being sent back to him but his father replied that as long as I was satisfied with his son’s conduct then he saw no reason for him to leave Dura.
Less welcome news came from King Khosrou of Margiana and King Musa of Hyrcania. These two rulers held the northeast frontier of the empire and could field great numbers of troops; soldiers that I had hoped could be brought west to fight the Romans and Armenians. But Khosrou informed me that the nomads who lived in the land between the Caspian and Aral seas were still raiding his northern frontier. These tribes had originally been bribed with gold by Mithridates to raid Margiana and Hyrcania so Khosrou and Musa would be fully occupied and thus not able to assist Orodes and me, but now they wished to invade Parthia and settle there. These peoples, the Saka and Huns, were wild, fierce warriors that were causing Khosrou and Musa great difficulties. As a consequence they would be able to contribute few if any troops to the army that Phriapatius was assembling.