by Peter Darman
‘Even you look small beside it,’ I shouted to Thumelicus as his men sat on the ground panting after their exertions. He smiled and raised his arm in salute.
‘Looks like we got here just in time,’ said Domitus, striding towards us and tapping his cane against his thigh. He looked as though he had just completed a short walk.
Gallia embraced him, eliciting cheers and whistles from those of his soldiers nearby. I extended my hand and he clasped my forearm.
‘You are a most welcome sight, my friend,’ I told him. ‘Where are Demaratus and his Babylonians and the soldiers of Susiana?’
He smiled. ‘Guarding the wagons and mules. About five miles away. Nice and safe and far enough away not to do any damage.’
I put an arm around his shoulders as we turned and walked back into the city.
‘I thought I ordered you to take the foot to Hatra? Not that I am ungrateful that you disobeyed my orders.’
‘I would never disobey your orders, Pacorus,’ he said with a straight face. ‘Truth is we were on our way to Hatra via Assur when we came across this city being attacked and decided to lend a hand.’
Gallia laughed. ‘Very droll,’ I replied.
He winked at Gallia. ‘You gallop off into the desert with a hundred riders heading for Assur, mumbling some nonsense. So I think: “Something’s wrong.” Remember I have known you a long time. So I gave the order to march after you. In any case there are enough troops in Hatra to beat off a dozen armies.’
‘More than you think,’ I replied. ‘Gafarn ordered Assur’s lords and Silaces to present themselves at Hatra, in addition to half the city garrison.’
Within the hour we had all gathered at the palace where Herneus gave a report on the day’s events. It was dark now and the legions, men from Susiana and the Babylonians had made camp a mile west of the city; the Armenian prisoners having been placed under armed guard in the area between the inner and outer walls north of the Tabira Gate. A preliminary head count had put their numbers at eleven thousand.
‘Yours to do with as you see fit,’ I told Herneus.
Of the rest of the Armenians, many had been killed at the Western Gate when they were assaulted by the Exiles and rather less at the Southern Gate, some having given themselves up and the rest having fled over the stone bridge across the Tigris into Media.
‘King Atrax’s forces will deal with them,’ said Herneus.
‘We will wait here for Atrax to arrive with his men,’ I announced, ‘before continuing our march to Hatra.’
The next day I stood on top of the gatehouse at the Tabira Gate and watched the Armenian prisoners collect the bodies of their comrades who had been killed the day before. Under armed guard they had first created funeral pyres from their own wicker shields, the rafts they had used to bring the battering rams down the Tigris and wood from the rams themselves. The bodies were dumped on top and the wood lit. The nauseating stench of roasting flesh soon filled our nostrils as black smoke rose into the sky from the dozen pyres that ringed the city.
‘I never get used to that smell,’ I said to the others.
‘Better Armenian flesh burning than Parthian,’ said Herneus grimly.
‘Clever attempting to take this city, though,’ mused Domitus. ‘If it had fallen then Hatra would have faced being threatened from three directions – Nisibus, Assur and Zeugma.’
I stared at the heaps of black, charred cadavers being licked by flames. ‘Wars are not won by standing on the defensive. It is time to march against the Armenians and defeat them once and for all.’
The next day there was a service of thanksgiving in the city’s temple dedicated to Shamash, at which all those who had volunteered to stand beside the garrison and the Amazons on the city walls were honoured. Almost five hundred had fought on the battlements shooting arrows at the Armenians and a further six hundred had been formed into a reserve at the palace, ready to be committed against any enemy incursions. The Armenians would have made short work of the collection of cripples, old men, young boys and men missing limbs who now stood near the altar being blessed by the high priest for their courage. They were each given five drachmas for their loyalty, paid out of Herneus’ own pocket. He was a rich and powerful man and could afford to do so but I thought it was a nice touch.
The most poignant scenes were the cremations of the runners, the young boys and girls who had been killed while scouring the ground behind the inner wall for enemy arrows. They had thought it great fun and were encouraged by officers of the garrison to collect as many arrows as they could for a reward of sweets and fruit. But many had been hit and killed while doing so and I hated the Armenians for forcing us to resort to such measures.
A touching scene was when an emotional Asher was presented with a silver arrow for his service during the assault. I learned that he had been instrumental in raising volunteers from among the general population that had taken refuge in the temples, and I thanked Shamash that we still had men of iron like him left in the empire.
Afterwards, when everyone had filed out of the temple to return to their daily lives, I sat near the altar next to Gallia as sunlight streamed in through the high windows. She was wearing her white shirt and tan leggings and boots, her hair loose around her shoulders. I held her hand.
‘I am tired, Gallia.’
‘Of course, you have had hardly any sleep these past three days.’
I smiled at her. ‘I did not mean that. I am tired of war, tired of battles and bloodshed. I have been fighting for over twenty years, and for what?’
‘So we can stay free,’ she said, surprised at my despondency.
I sighed. ‘Freedom. We were free when we escaped from Italy, but instead of living in Hatra and being content to wait for my inheritance, in my impatience I took the throne of Dura. I have often wondered if I had not done so whether the empire would have been plunged into civil war, whether Phraates would have been murdered and whether my father would have been killed.’
I looked into her blue eyes. ‘Am I responsible for all those things?’
Her look hardened. ‘No, you are not. Had you been responsible for Mithridates and Narses being vomited into the world then I would have said yes, but you cannot blame yourself for what has happened since we returned from Italy. It has been your destiny.’
I chuckled darkly. ‘My destiny? My doom, more like.’
She stood up. ‘Come on. No more despairing. We have a war to win.’
I stood up and pulled her close, her full lips inches from mine. ‘Perhaps you should be lord high general.’
She kissed me tenderly. ‘I would like that. What will you do now?’
‘We wait for Atrax and then march to Hatra to fight the Armenians.’
The King of Media arrived the next day with five hundred cataphracts, their squires, four thousand horse archers and five thousand foot soldiers. Media’s soldiers wore blue tunics and grey leggings but it was the first time I had seen Atrax’s professional foot soldiers.
‘I have spent the last three years equipping and training them,’ he said with pride as I rode with him, Demaratus and Herneus as we inspected his troops on the Plain of Makhmur, the great flatland across the Tigris opposite Assur, which could accommodate an army with ease. Following Domitus’ relief of the city I had sent a second despatch to Atrax telling him that he need not rush to our aid. This had allowed him to bring his foot soldiers with his horsemen. At the same time I had also sent a courier to Hatra to assure Gafarn that Assur was safe and asked him not to engage the Armenians until I arrived.
Each of Media’s foot soldiers was ensconced in a helmet with a large neck protector and cheekguards, a short-sleeved scale armour tunic, similar to that worn by his heavy horsemen, thick leather greaves over leather boots and a large oval shield faced with hide painted black and sporting the white dragon of Media. But the most remarkable thing about these soldiers was that their main weapon was a mace, a short length of wood topped with a spiked iron head. They also carri
ed swords and daggers but these troops were obviously equipped and armed to literally batter their way through an enemy formation.
‘The Armenians have heavy foot soldiers,’ said Atrax, ‘so these men have been created to fight and destroy them.’
‘They do Media credit, majesty,’ remarked Demaratus.
‘They certainly do,’ I agreed.
The next day we left Assur for Hatra. I hoisted myself onto Remus in the palace courtyard while outside the city twenty-three thousand foot soldiers and four and a half thousand horsemen marched west into the desert. Beside me Gallia was on Epona with the Amazons drawn up behind us. Herneus and his officers stood at the foot of the palace steps, flanked by the high priests from the temples and the city officials. The city governor stepped forward and bowed his head.
‘You have saved this city, majesty,’ he said to me, then looked at Gallia and bowed once more, ‘and this city will talk of your warriors with reverence and awe for generations, highness.’
‘It was an honour to have fought beside the men of Assur,’ she replied, breaking into a smile.
I leaned forward. ‘I will have your lords and their men returned to you as soon as I get to Hatra, Herneus. And Silaces and his men too.’
He nodded. ‘Thank you, majesty.’
‘One more thing, Herneus. King Aschek and the army of Atropaiene will be arriving here soon on their way to Hatra. Aschek has a tendency to dally when he should make haste, therefore please do not encourage him to stay here and enjoy what will be I’m sure your excellent hospitality.’
He smiled wryly as I raised my hand to those assembled before me. ‘Shamash be with you all,’ then I tugged on Remus’ reins and rode from the courtyard with Gallia and the Amazons following. The city had given thanks to the gods for its deliverance, cremated the dead and had now returned to the greater battle that was the daily struggle for survival.
The march to Hatra was uneventful.
Byrd and Malik scouted with their men and Atrax sent parties of horse archers far and wide in case there were any more Armenian forces in the area but they reported seeing nothing, and when we arrived at the city three days later I learned that the Armenian host that had been advancing from Nisibus had suddenly retreated in haste back to the city. There were thus tens of thousands of horsemen and foot soldiers camped around Hatra with nothing to do but eat up their rations and cover the ground with animal dung.
Marcus established the Duran camp to the north of the city near the city’s northern gates. These gave direct access to Hatra’s vast royal quarter housing the mansions of the kingdom’s richest and most important nobles, the Great Temple dedicated to Shamash, the treasury, the palace and its accompanying gardens, and the royal barracks, armouries and stables. A high, thick wall reinforced by one hundred and fifty towers along its length surrounded the entire city, while a separate wall encompassed the royal quarter. It really was a formidable fortress and one that even an enemy with siege engines would find difficult to reduce.
While Domitus settled the legions and Demaratus’ men into camp I rode with Gallia, Spartacus and Atrax to the palace. As ever it was a place of calm, order and authority; Kogan’s guards in their smart uniforms standing at every pillar and doorway. Clerks and city officials went about their business without any fuss and priests spoke in hushed tones in the corridors.
We walked into the throne room where Kogan himself stood by the dais, along with Vistaspa and a very frail Assur, his hair and beard now totally white. Courtiers standing around the sides of the hall bowed their heads as we made our way to the dais. A rather gaunt Gafarn rose and stepped onto the floor to greet me, and then Gallia and Atrax, while a smiling Diana greeted her son and then embraced Gallia. Orodes, who surprisingly had been standing beside Kogan, came forward and shook my hand, as did Nergal who followed him, while Praxima kissed my cheek. I nodded to Peroz who was standing on the other side of the dais and I also noticed Silaces in the assembly. Worryingly, the sour-faced Apollonius was also present. I hoped Gafarn had not denuded the garrisons of the towns of western Hatra, which were closest to Roman Syria.
The welcomes over, Gafarn returned to stand on the dais.
‘King Pacorus, hero of Assur,’ he said in a loud voice, ‘Hatra salutes you.’
His words were followed by warm applause and I felt myself starting to blush, though as I raised an arm in acknowledgement and turned left and right I noticed that my sister, Adeleh, was not clapping. She had obviously been taking lessons from Aliyeh on how to bear a grudge.
Gafarn stilled the applause. ‘Tonight we will give a feast in honour of King Pacorus and his valiant wife, Queen Gallia, whose warriors stood like a rock to turn back the Armenian tide at Assur.’
Fresh applause broke out and Gafarn and Diana both rose and beckoned us to accompany them as they walked from the throne room to their private quarters. I walked beside Diana as Orodes took the arm of Gallia behind me, followed by Nergal, Praxima, Peroz and Spartacus, who had an arm around the shoulders of his brother, Prince Pacorus.
‘Spartacus fought well at Assur,’ I said to Diana. ‘He is turning into a fine young man and good soldier.’
‘Dura agrees with him,’ she said, linking her arm in mine. ‘He is happy?’
‘It was difficult at first but he has calmed down and applied himself to his duties. Prince Peroz has helped him enormously, for which I am grateful.’
‘What about the Agraci girl?’ asked Gafarn.
‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ I replied, ‘it was a just a passing fancy. He’s too busy to worry about women.’
The feast that night was truly spectacular. The banqueting hall was crammed with tables at which sat the city’s nobility, Hatra’s senior officers, Assur’s head priests, as well as the commanders of the assembled armies. Dozens of slaves served food heaped on great silver platters while others poured beer and wine into jewel-encrusted gold and silver drinking vessels. My mother made a rare appearance, dressed in a pure white long dress, her hair oiled, curled and fastened in place with gold hairclips, with additional gold at her neck, on her fingers and round her wrists. She sat between me and Gafarn in the place of honour at the top table, laughed and talked, and was once more the Queen of Hatra. I was truly happy that, if only for one night, she was once more the forceful, gracious and witty woman who was the mother I remembered. Everyone was happy it seemed, even Adeleh, though she said nothing to me. But it was a most agreeable occasion and contrasted sharply to the gathering that was held the next day in the office adjacent to the throne room.
Kogan started by giving a very long and detailed account of the numbers of troops in and around Hatra, which, not including the city garrison, numbered two thousand, seven hundred cataphracts, sixty-six thousand horse archers and twenty-three thousand foot soldiers. And these figures did not include the troops that Aschek would be bringing from Atropaiene, which would undoubtedly swell the number to a combined total of over one hundred thousand soldiers.
‘What news do you have of Surena?’ I asked Gafarn.
He leaned back in his chair. ‘My sources inform me that he continues to strike at the Armenians from Gordyene.’
‘And what of the Armenians?’ I probed further.
‘Their forces have dispersed from Nisibus, apparently,’ he replied. ‘They retain a large garrison there but their army has dissipated, it would seem.’
‘Surena holds their attention,’ I said.
‘He fights his own private war,’ stated Orodes disapprovingly. ‘He has answered none of my summons to present himself to me here. It is as if Gordyene has once more been lost to the empire.’
‘We must recapture Nisibus,’ stated Gafarn.
I was not so sure. The Armenians had tricked us once and nearly taken Assur. They had now seemingly dissolved their army they had mustered there, leaving only a garrison behind. Perhaps they hung the prize of Nisibus before us like a fisherman dangles a piece of bait on his rod.
‘No,’ I said.
They all looked at me in surprise.
Gafarn was stunned. ‘No? Have not we mustered this army here, at Hatra, with the sole purpose of curbing the Armenians, brother?’
‘It is as Gafarn says,’ added Orodes.
I shook my head. ‘The fact that the Armenians have retreated from Hatra indicates that they do not wish to engage us in battle. They tried to capture Assur and nearly succeeded, but if they were intent on forcing a battle they would have kept their army together and marched it against Hatra.’
‘Then what do they want?’ asked a confused Atrax.
‘To let Crassus fight their war for them, after which they can pick over the bones of Parthia like a vulture,’ I replied. ‘Artavasdes is not his father, who would have sought victory without any aid.’
Gafarn was unconvinced and began stroking his beard with his hand.
‘Crassus is, and always has been, the biggest threat,’ I said. ‘Defeat him and the Armenians can be dealt with at leisure.
‘Gafarn, you must return the horse archers that Apollonius has brought here back to your western towns, and send Silaces and Herneus’ lords back to Assur.’
‘You would weaken the army by doing so, Pacorus,’ said Atrax.
‘The Armenians may attempt another attack against Assur to give them a strategic crossing point over the Tigris,’ I replied. ‘From Assur they could strike into Media and southern Gordyene, as well as west at Hatra. And the towns of Ichnae, Nicephorium, Carrhae and Zenodotium need reinforcing as they will be in the path of Crassus and his army.’
‘Crassus has not even arrived in Syria,’ said Gafarn irritably.
‘He soon will be,’ I said.
‘And that is why we need all the troops we can muster here, at Hatra,’ he said resolutely.
‘One hundred thousand soldiers,’ I said slowly so everyone could understand, ‘cannot remain at Hatra indefinitely. For one thing they and their animals will quickly exhaust the city’s granaries and will have to disperse anyway. Send Apollonius and his men back to the west and Silaces and the lords of Assur back east. When Crassus arrives in Syria we will march west and meet him at the border.’