by Peter Darman
‘And the Armenians?’ queried Orodes.
‘The Armenians, my lord,’ I replied, ‘will sit and wait for the outcome.’
Gafarn was shaking his head. ‘They will attack Hatra while our attention is diverted towards Crassus.’
‘It does not matter,’ I said. ‘They will not be able to storm the city but will rather have to mount a siege against it. And how will they water their men and animals? The nearest source is the Tigris, some sixty miles away.’
I could tell that he was still unconvinced but the truth was that we were wasting our time sitting on our backsides at Hatra. If the Armenians were serious about assaulting it they would have already done so. I was therefore relieved when a guard knocked and entered the room to interrupt the uncomfortable silence. He bowed to Gafarn and then whispered something in his ear.
‘Well give it to him, then,’ he said, exasperatedly.
The guard walked to my side, bowed his head once more and held out a papyrus scroll. I took it and unrolled it. It was from Spandarat at Dura and informed me that he had heard from Haytham that an Egyptian army was mustering at Emesa in preparation for an attack against Palmyra.
‘Problems, Pacorus?’ enquired Orodes.
I threw the missive on the table. ‘It would appear that we have been duped again, my friends. That letter was from Dura. An Egyptian army is assembling at Emesa and intends to march west to capture Palmyra, and in my absence Dura no doubt.’
‘Why would the Egyptians attack Dura?’ asked Gafarn.
‘Why? Because Egypt is under the Roman heel and dances to Rome’s tune. Just as we watch the Romans so do they observe us. Crassus has always coveted Dura and now he sees a cheap and easy way to take it: with an Egyptian army that he has no doubt hired.’
‘What will you do?’ asked Atrax.
‘I must return to Dura with my horsemen,’ I replied. ‘Haytham will fight, of that I have no doubt, but he cannot defeat an army of horse and foot on his own. He will need my support.’
Orodes, who had lived at Dura and knew Haytham well, was nodding in agreement but Gafarn was ashen faced. ‘You will take your army back to Dura?’
‘Only the horse archers, Gafarn. The rest will stay here.’ I stood up. ‘And now, if you will excuse me, I have to consult with my officers.’
As I rode back to camp I was in a strange way relieved that this crisis had suddenly appeared as it gave me an excuse to leave Hatra and concentrate on defeating the enemy. Had I been Hatra’s king I would have dispersed its horse archers to the south and east and leave the city as bait for the Armenians and Romans. Once they took it their supply lines would be mercilessly harried by thirty-five thousand horse archers, to say nothing of the forces that Dura, Babylon, Media and Atropaiene could assemble. Even the Romans with their siege engines would find their effectiveness quickly diminished by a Mesopotamian summer sun and a parched desert devoid of any pasture or oases. But I was not Hatra’s king. Perhaps I should have been after all. Useless thoughts; concentrate on the here and now.
‘It’s a bad plan, Pacorus.’
Domitus was pacing up and down in my tent, tapping his cane against his thigh, always a bad sign. I sat with Chrestus, Gallia, Marcus and Peroz while my general mumbled to himself and had a face like thunder. He stopped and pointed the cane at me.
‘The moment you leave your brother will realise that he has an additional ten thousand well-trained foot soldiers and a thousand cataphracts to play with and we will be marching north to recapture Nisibus to avenge your friend’s death. What was he called?’
‘Vata,’ I answered.
‘And he will also realise that you have brought your siege engines. The temptation will be too great for him.’
I held up a hand to him. ‘You are the general of Dura’s army, Domitus, and it is not to go anywhere without your permission, and your authority supersedes even that of Orodes as king of kings.’
He eyed me warily. ‘And you will tell him that?’
‘I will.’
‘And your brother?’ he pressed me. ‘I will also be able to ignore his commands if I think it is prudent to do so?’
‘Yes.’
He grunted and retook his seat. ‘How many riders will you take?’
‘All the horse archers,’ I told him, smiling at Peroz, ‘as well as the Carmanians. The cataphracts can stay here. Eight thousand horsemen should be enough.’
‘Eight thousand plus the Amazons,’ added Gallia. ‘I’m coming with you.’
Immediately after I had convinced Domitus of the wisdom of my plan I wrote a note to Spandarat ordering him and his fellow lords to stay at Dura until I arrived, which would be in six days. I emphasised to him that on no account was he to ride out and fight the Egyptians on his own. The courier left my tent as Malik and Byrd halted their horses outside before entering. They and their scouts had been riding to the north of the city searching for Armenians.
‘Find anything?’ I asked.
Malik filled two cups with water from a jug on the table and handed one to a dust-covered Byrd. ‘Nothing.’
‘Sit down,’ I told them. ‘I have some news that will be of interest to you.’
I informed them about the army assembling at Emesa, its plan to attack Palmyra and my riding to assist Haytham.
‘You will be coming with me I assume?’
They both nodded.
‘Good. You have another chance to avenge Vehrka, Malik.’
Malik drained his cup and refilled it. ‘Egypt is many miles from Emesa. Why is its ruler interested in Palmyra?’
‘Rome is the ruler of Egypt now,’ I replied. ‘Aulus Gabinius must have restored Egypt’s king to his throne and now we see the consequence of him being Rome’s puppet.’ I smiled at Byrd. ‘Your network of spies in Emesa has served us well.’
‘I will lop off that fat king’s head with my own sword,’ swore Malik.
Whether or not Sampsiceramus himself led the army did not concern me. I was more alarmed by the prospect that Mark Antony, the young commander we had captured, might now have a senior position in the Egyptian force or perhaps might be leading it in person.
‘I said you should have killed him,’ was Gallia’s only remark when I revealed my fear to her.
I told Spartacus and Scarab that they would also be accompanying me. There was nothing for them to do at Dura and I was eager for my nephew not to slip back into his old, undisciplined ways while at Hatra. I therefore instructed him to visit the palace with me to say his farewells to his parents while Gallia and I took our leave of them and said goodbye to my mother. As usual she was on her knees in her beloved garden, trowel in hand planting fresh flowers. The deranged Rubi sat in a chair nearby as slaves fussed around them both. Gallia sat with Rubi and talked softly to her as the mad woman rocked to and fro in her own little world, baring her teeth and hissing when I approached. I sometimes thought that the insane were the only truly happy people in this world.
We left the next morning at dawn, just over eight thousand riders carrying waterskins, sacks of fodder, saddlebags filled with food and four quivers each slung over our shoulders. We left the camel train at Hatra and would be able to pick up additional ammunition at the armouries in Dura, but I had a feeling that we would need a great quantity of arrows in the days ahead. We would not take any of the new steel-tipped arrows with us – they were reserved for Crassus’ legions.
Our rate of advance was a steady thirty-five miles a day across the sun-blasted landscape, riding hard but always walking the horses during the hottest hours of each day. We trotted across the pontoon bridges at Dura on the sixth morning and rode straight to the Citadel where Rsan and Aaron were waiting for us at the bottom of the palace steps. Peroz and Vagises took their men to the now deserted legionary camp where they would water their horses in the animal troughs fed by the Euphrates. Malik and Byrd, following a short break, would continue on to Palmyra.
I slid off Remus’ back as stable hands came forward to take him
, Epona and the horses of the Amazons and my squires to the stables. Vagharsh stood on the paving stones, leaned on his flagpole and arched his back.
‘I’m getting too old for careering around the empire,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ I agreed.
The griffin banner was safely enclosed in its wax sleeve but after returning to Dura it was always placed on the wall behind the dais in the throne room and that is where he now took it, ignoring my governor and treasurer as he walked slowly up the steps.
‘Where are our children?’ asked a concerned Gallia.
Rsan bowed. ‘Awaiting you in the throne room, along with Lord Spandarat and Dobbai.’
They both trailed after us as we walked through the reception hall into the throne room, to be greeted by the sight of Spandarat and Dobbai side by side on our thrones and our three children in a line in front of them. Vagharsh was unrolling my banner to place it back on the hooks on the wall, ignoring the two occupants of the thrones and our children. Isabella and Eszter ran to us when they saw us though Claudia remained where she was, curtseying to us when we stood before the dais. She had now seen eleven summers and was growing tall like her mother, though unlike Gallia her long hair was now dark like my own.
‘I hope your majesties are well,’ I said sarcastically.
Spandarat winked at Gallia and stood up. ‘Sit yourself down, princess.’
Gallia took her seat and Eszter climbed onto her knee while Isabella stood next to her.
‘To my knowledge Lord Spandarat did not request your presence here, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai irreverently.
I did not rise to her bait. ‘With an Egyptian army approaching my place is defending my kingdom.’
She looked amused. ‘Defending your kingdom from what? A bunch of ill-armed scrapings from the Nile who could be blown away by a desert wind?’
‘I’m glad you think so little of our adversaries,’ I retorted, ‘but then it is not you who will have to face them in battle.’
Servants brought large cups filled with cool fruit juice for us to drink.
‘And neither do you,’ she snapped back. ‘Haytham is quite capable of dealing with the Egyptians. You should have remained at Hatra.’
‘It is true, majesty,’ agreed Spandarat, ‘me and the other lords could have reinforced Haytham if he found himself in difficulties.’
‘Nothing is happening at Hatra,’ I said, getting rather annoyed at having to explain myself, ‘whereas a great army is heading for Dura.’
‘Great army,’ said Dobbai incredulously, ‘your wits are becoming addled. The gods have sent omens indicating that danger lies to the north not in the west. Tell him, Claudia.’
‘It is true, father, for I have seen them with my own eyes – a dog urinating against a wall and then lying down and wagging its tail.’
‘An omen of impending disaster,’ said Dobbai.
Claudia continued. ‘And afterwards I saw a man leading a bull by its nose ring in a northerly direction, and a rat snake was following them.’
‘As clear as the scar on your face,’ commented Dobbai.
‘Thank you children, you may return to your rooms,’ I said.
Claudia was going to protest. ‘Now!’ I shouted, causing Eszter and Isabella to jump. Gallia nodded at them and they scuttled away. Vagharsh walked past me in the opposite direction.
‘A dog taking a piss. Imagine that,’ he remarked.
‘Be gone,’ Dobbai snapped at him, ‘what are you but a dog carrying a pole that follows his master around?’
Vagharsh curled his lip at her and then slapped me on the arm as he took his leave.
‘You will ride to fight by the side of Haytham?’ Dobbai asked.
‘I will,’ I said defiantly, pointing at Spandarat. ‘And you and your lords will be coming with me.’
Spandarat slapped his hands together. ‘Lovely!’
Dobbai rose unsteadily from my throne, Gallia jumping up and taking her arm. The old woman smiled at her, tenderly cupped her cheek with her hand and then they both walked towards the door that led to the private wing of the palace.
‘You may go and slaughter the Egyptians, son of Hatra, but the real danger lies to the north,’ she called to me. ‘Heed my words.’
But I ignored her ramblings and, three days after arriving back at Dura, the lords and their men having assembled in the legionary camp, I rode at the head of twenty-eight thousand horse archers to Palmyra. I had asked both Byrd and Malik to try to persuade Haytham not to offer battle to the Egyptians until I arrived. He had many warriors but few archers and I feared, just as before, that bowmen and slingers would slaughter them when they attempted to get close to the enemy. Gallia stayed behind with the Amazons to guard Dura.
We arrived at Palmyra five days later to find a great assembly of Agraci warriors filling the ground around the green oasis – thousands of black-clad horsemen equipped with spears and round shields, curved swords in black scabbards at their hips and daggers tucked into their belts. All Haytham’s lords were present, including Yasser, the man who ruled southern Arabia in his name. It was he who had greeted us with a hundred of his men half a mile east of Palmyra.
He extended a hand to me. ‘Good to see you again, King of Dura.’ He raised a hand to Spandarat. ‘Come to watch how the Agraci slay their foes, old man?’
Spandarat spat on the ground and laughed. ‘Come to save your arse, more like.’
Yasser greeted Vagises warmly and was introduced to Peroz before falling in beside me to continue our journey.
‘The king wants blood,’ said Yasser, ‘he is like an angry snake, ready to strike. It took all of Malik’s persuasion to convince him to wait until you got here. He’s talking about burning Emesa to the ground.’
‘Has the enemy left the city?’ I asked.
‘Yesterday. We have scouts outside the city and along the road here who use smoke signals to keep us abreast of developments.’
My horse archers camped immediately east of Palmyra as there was no room in the settlement itself. I noted that the traffic on the road had all but disappeared and in Palmyra itself there were few caravans. The traders who plied the Silk Road had a sixth sense when it came to impending war and made plans accordingly. Most either delayed their journey or took an alternative route. When I rode into Dura I noticed that the caravan park to the immediate north of the city was unusually full. The merchants were waiting for the slaughter to end before continuing their journeys.
I rode with Yasser to the great tent of Haytham in the centre of Palmyra where he and his lords were waiting. It was a great honour to be allowed to sit on the king’s council as he made plans for war but I was proud to be his friend and fight by his side. What did Dobbai know of pride and loyalty?
Haytham embraced me warmly and then asked me to join him and Malik as they sat with their lords on the carpets and cushions in his tent. I recognised them all and they made room for me as they sat cross-legged in a circle while servants brought refreshments. Byrd, sitting on Haytham’s left, nodded as I took my place next to Yasser. In addition to him there were another eleven lords, all of them menacing, cruel warriors who had achieved their high positions with their swords.
‘Now my brother Pacorus has arrived with his warriors,’ started Haytham, ‘we can ride west and kill the invading army. We will leave in the morning. How many riders have you brought with you, Pacorus?’
‘Twenty-eight thousand, lord,’ I answered.
Yasser slapped me on the shoulder and the others nodded approvingly.
Haytham smiled evilly. ‘When you all see the enemy remember Lord Vehrka and avenge him, and remember that nothing is forgotten or forgiven.’
After the meeting Rasha was waiting for me outside her father’s tent, accompanied by a dozen guards.
‘Are you under arrest?’ I teased her.
She rolled her eyes. ‘My father thinks that my virtue needs guarding at all times.’
‘He is worried about you,’ I assured her
.
She spoke softly so her guardians would not hear. ‘Is Spartacus with you?’
‘He is, but he has a battle to prepare for and is confined to camp.’
She pressed a letter into my hand. ‘Would you give him this?’
I should have refused and given it back to her but she looked at me with such imploring brown eyes that my heart melted. So much for being the chief warlord of Parthia!
‘Of course,’ I replied.
She threw her arms round me, kissed me on the cheek, ordered me to keep safe and then hurried away with a spring in her step. What it is to be young and in love.
The Agraci did not fight as my army fights. Like my own nobles each of Haytham’s lords brought his own followers and they fought and died for him, fighting alongside him in battle and sharing in his victories and defeats. Agraci tactics, such as they were, consisted of getting to grips with the enemy as quickly as possible and slaughtering them in a close-quarter mêlée. Against well-disciplined, trained and equipped soldiers it was a recipe for disaster. Courage and bloodlust alone were not enough to overcome a professional army, that is why I wanted to be here, not for glory or a chance to kill Egyptians, though I was not averse to sending any race to the afterlife if they made an enemy of me, but to save Haytham. I would never have told him that, of course, but with my horse archers he and his men stood a better chance of defeating the enemy.
Three days out from Palmyra, marching along the road to Emesa, our scouts came across the enemy. It was not hard to find them: the vast dust cloud kicked up by their soldiers matched that of our own and could be seen miles away. The flat, hard-packed dirt across which we rode was littered with small stones and sparse grass and scrub vegetation. Occasionally a patch of greenery would appear as if by magic where water seeped to the surface to create a small oasis, but mostly the terrain was unending arid earth, made bleaker by a sun scorching our backs from a cloudless sky.