Carrhae (The Parthian Chronicles)

by Peter Darman

  ‘I think it would be best for everyone, Peroz,’ I said to him in a calm manner, ‘for you to escort Roxanne back to the palace. I will wait at the foot of the stairs so Roxanne may gather together her clothes and possessions to take with her.’

  ‘I have no possessions, majesty,’ she said softly.

  I look around at the rich furnishings and her expensive dress. She saw my surprise.

  ‘Everything I wear and all the things in this room are owned by Samhat, majesty.’

  When they came downstairs Samhat, who was not amused that I was removing one of the most profitable girls from her establishment, pointed this out to me.

  ‘You can’t take her,’ she hissed.

  Domitus drew his gladius and placed the point at her throat.

  ‘The king can do what he likes, including having you and your girls crucified if he has a mind to.’

  To her credit Samhat stood her ground though her concubines and girls looked decidedly nervous and some were clutching each other for comfort. ‘Big knuckles’, still penned into the corner with his friends by the legionaries, was outraged.

  ‘I’ve paid good money for the whore.’

  Spartacus jeered at the man and beckoned him forward, goading him that he was nothing more than a lowborn animal. Before violence flared Domitus removed his sword from Samhat’s throat and grabbed my nephew by the scruff of his neck and bundled him outside as ‘big knuckles’ and his friends, held back by the shields of the legionaries, hurled abuse and threats at him.

  ‘Give him back his money,’ I instructed Samhat. ‘You will receive compensation from the treasury, and for the girl. She will not be returning to you.’

  Samhat was infuriated. ‘I have invested a lot of money in her and now you are kidnapping her just because a pampered prince has been love-struck.’

  My patience was fast running out. ‘First of all, madam, if you had not encouraged him to frequent your premises he would never have met the young girl in question. Secondly, as I have just informed you the treasury will recompense you for your losses, within reason. However, if you continue to insult your king then I will have no option but to close your establishment and have you and your whores flogged from the city.’

  My threat had the desired affect and she said no more but I could tell that she was fuming and in truth I was not unsympathetic. But when it came to choosing between Peroz and her there was no contest. Afterwards I strolled back to the palace in the company of Peroz, the woman he wanted to make a princess, Domitus and my squires.

  ‘You should have that old whore flogged for her disrespect,’ grumbled Domitus. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘A most generous offer, Domitus,’ I replied, ‘but in this instance that “old whore” as you call her was correct.’

  I nodded at Peroz and Roxanne walking ahead of us. ‘He sees her as his future princess whereas Samhat views her as a valuable commodity. I fear the compensation I will have to pay will be prohibitive.’

  ‘You are not actually going to pay her anything?’ asked a disbelieving Domitus.

  ‘Samhat pays her taxes and runs a profitable and legal business. If word spreads that the King of Dura arbitrarily ruins businesses then it might affect trade, and less trade means less taxes, which means less money to spend on the army. So you see, my friend, I have little choice.’

  ‘Aaron will be most unhappy,’ he said.

  I laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose he will. But with a war coming I would rather have an unhappy treasurer than an unhappy Prince Peroz.’

  ‘Very sensible, uncle,’ said Spartacus behind us.

  ‘Unlike your behaviour tonight,’ I scolded him. ‘Have you noticed how trouble follows you around like a loyal dog?’

  ‘If trouble comes looking for me I will not shy away from it,’ he replied defiantly. ‘I was brought up to stand shoulder to shoulder with my friends. Peroz and I have been discussing a double wedding, uncle.’

  Domitus rolled his eyes.

  ‘A double wedding? You are both to be congratulated.’

  ‘What are the most extreme odds, do you think?’ posed Domitus. ‘Your nephew taking a Roman eagle or Peroz’s father accepting a whore as his daughter-in-law?’

  I wondered the same thing but was strangely comforted by the prospect of the coming war, which might settle things one way or another. Spartacus and Peroz might both be killed, or they might cover themselves in glory and return home as heroes. If so would Haytham let my nephew marry his daughter and would Phriapatius allow his son to marry a whore? Perhaps I would be killed, thus saving me the trouble of having to worry about it all.

  Roxanne was given a room in the palace well away from Peroz’s though he assured me that nothing untoward would happen while they were under my roof. Gallia thought Peroz most gallant and complimented him on his actions. Early the next day, after Peroz had taken Roxanne south to review his men, she quizzed me if I would inform his father that he desired to marry a whore. I could give her no answer. Although Gallia did not approve of prostitution she had no problem with prostitutes themselves. Her closest friend, Praxima, had been forced to work in a Roman brothel as a whore and Gallia took the view that all prostitutes were forced into their trade, a not wholly accurate view. Some positively relished their profession!

  Later that morning the representative of Samhat came to the palace to discuss compensation for Roxanne. I received him in the throne room with Gallia sitting beside me and had summoned Aaron from the treasury. Our visitor strode into the throne room flanked by two guards, having first been searched for concealed weapons. He was a portly man of medium height dressed in a fine orange robe with a purple silk sash around his ample waist and red leather sandals on his feet. He was completely bald and had dark makeup around his eyes. After bowing his head at me and then Gallia we saw he held a bundle of papyrus sheets in his manicured hands.

  ‘Hail, King Pacorus of Dura, son of Varaz and grandson of Sames, Kings of Hatra, and lord high general of the empire and noble defender of all the kingdoms of Parthia. Husband to Queen Gallia, daughter of King Ambiorix…’

  I held up a hand. ‘You are very well informed but to save time perhaps we might move straight to the business in hand.’

  He cleared his throat and smiled. ‘Of course, majesty. My name is Chigaru, secretary to Samhat and I have been asked to present to you the details concerning compensation for Roxanne, lately employed at my mistress’ establishment.’

  I pointed at Aaron. ‘This is Lord Aaron, the kingdom’s treasurer, who will advise me on the veracity of your claim.’

  Chigaru bristled at the implication that his mistress’ demands might be fraudulent but quickly composed himself and smiled weakly at Aaron.

  ‘You are a eunuch, are you not?’ asked Gallia.

  ‘I am, majesty,’ he replied without emotion.

  ‘What are your tasks?’ she was clearly fascinated by him.

  ‘I keep a record of all the clients who visit the brothel, fix the price for a night of each girl’s favours, receive the money for said favours and provide clothing and other essentials for each of my mistress’ women and men.’

  ‘Why are eunuchs employed in brothels?’ she quizzed him further.

  ‘Sexually impotent men make the best guardians for young women, majesty’ he replied proudly. ‘They can be trusted not to spoil the goods and do not covet power. My mistress trusts me completely.’

  She leaned forward. ‘How long have you been a eunuch?’

  ‘Fourteen years, majesty.’

  ‘Well, this is all most interesting,’ I said, ‘but…’

  Gallia ignored me and continued to stare at Chigaru. ‘Did it hurt?’

  Chigaru looked at her quizzically. ‘Majesty?’

  ‘The ritual by which you became who you are now,’ she explained.

  He smiled obsequiously. ‘Ah, I understand. Your majesty is most inquisitive and people do not normally enquire about how I came to be a eunuch. But I have heard that you are not only a great
warrior but also possessed of a keen mind. I was fifteen years of age when they came for me, three huge slaves in the service of my master who had decided that I should be a eunuch.

  ‘I was taken to the kitchens where a physician smeared my groin in pepper broth while one man held my wrists and the other two my legs. The physician then took a small curved knife that resembled a sickle and sliced off my genitals. The pain was excruciating.

  ‘He then with great care inserted lead needles and wooden nails into the gaping wound to staunch the flow of blood and then covered the wound with papyrus that had been soaked in water and used a bandage to keep it in place. Two of the slaves then walked me around my master’s house for two hours, after which I was allowed to lie down. I was forbidden to drink any water for three days to allow the wound to partly heal. On the fourth day the physician removed the needles and nails and I passed water like a spurting fountain. I fell to my knees and cried with joy for I knew that the operation had been a success. Those who are castrated and cannot pass water afterwards die a most painful death you see.

  ‘That, majesty, is how I became a eunuch.’

  Gallia, far from being revolted, was impressed. ‘I congratulate you on your courage, Chigaru.’

  He bowed his head solemnly. ‘From one whose courage is known throughout the world that is a compliment indeed, majesty.’

  ‘And now, Chigaru,’ I said, slightly disgusted by what had been done to him, ‘perhaps you will enlighten us as to the amount of compensation your mistress deems reasonable for the girl Roxanne.’

  He smiled at me and bowed his head, then glanced at one of his parchments. ‘Considering her age, beauty and the expenses that have already been lavished on the young lady in question, the amount of compensation comes to half a talent of gold.’

  ‘Half a talent!’ Aaron said loudly. ‘That is thirty pounds of gold. For a whore?’

  Chigaru remained calm. ‘A very accomplished whore.’

  Aaron was not amused. ‘This is outrageous, majesty. In any case she belongs to Prince Peroz so it is he who should pay Samhat compensation and not Dura’s treasury.’

  ‘Roxanne does not belong to the prince,’ Gallia said to Aaron, ’she is with him of her own free will. She is not a slave to be bartered in the marketplace.’

  ‘Of course, majesty,’ said Aaron in a muted tone, ‘but the fact remains that Prince Peroz should pay the indemnity for this young woman.’

  Aaron had made a good point but if I asked Peroz to pay the brothel he would no doubt write to his father requesting that he send him the gold. Phriapatius would find out eventually that his youngest son had fallen in love with a whore but he did not need to know yet. Then again, so besotted was Peroz with Roxanne that he might announce his impending marriage to her to the whole world anyway.

  ‘The fee is agreed,’ I told Chigaru, ‘my treasurer will see that the amount is sent to your mistress forthwith.’

  Chigaru looked at Aaron in triumph and then bowed deeply to me and then Gallia. Aaron was fuming but my decision had been made. I had more urgent things to think about than the price of a whore, beautiful though she was.

  The guards escorted Chigaru from the throne room and closed the doors behind them.

  ‘It would be wise to request that Carmania’s treasury reimburse our own for this amount, majesty,’ suggested Aaron.

  ‘Dura’s treasury will bear the cost. King Phriapatius has other things to occupy his mind.’

  ‘I do not understand,’ said Aaron.

  ‘Though it is none of your business, Aaron, because I am in a good mood I will tell you why we will not be asking Peroz’s father for the gold. The King of Carmania will take a very dim view of his son falling in love with a prostitute, and an even dimmer view of his son’s hosts for allowing such a thing to happen. He may demand that Prince Peroz and his men leave Dura and return home, in which case I will lose five thousand horse archers that I would rather have by my side when we fight the Romans and Armenians.’

  Aaron looked contrite and said nothing further on the matter.

  ‘The eunuch was most efficient,’ I had not noticed that Dobbai had entered the chamber but now she shuffled from behind me to stand just in front of the dais. ‘Perhaps you should castrate all the members of your council, son of Hatra, to ensure their loyalty and curb their tongues.’

  Aaron glared at her as she said the words.

  ‘I have no reason to doubt the loyalty of those who serve me,’ I said to her.

  ‘You are fortunate, son of Hatra, that your palace is not infused with malice and treachery but a great warlord has the luxury of knowing that his subordinates fear him.’

  ‘I thought they loved me,’ I teased her.

  ‘Love is the most poisonous emotion of all for it blinds men to the obvious and wraps them in a madness from which they do not wish to escape. If Peroz had had his manhood removed then he would not be chasing whores.’

  ‘We are not going to discuss Peroz’s manhood,’ I told her.

  She continued to goad Aaron. ‘Jewish priests cut off part of the manhoods of their male infants, is that not correct Jew?’

  ‘I did not realise you knew so much about our customs,’ he replied with embarrassment.

  ‘They should lop them off totally,’ she said wickedly, ‘to make all Jewish males eunuchs, then they would be far less troublesome.’

  ‘Enough, Dobbai,’ I snapped, ‘you give me a headache. The Jews have proved valuable allies of Dura and the longer they continue to fight the Romans in Judea the more time we have to make our own preparations. Please leave us.’

  She sneered at Aaron, smiled at Gallia and ignored me as she ambled back to the private apartments in the palace. I regretted that I had spoken to her so brusquely because that afternoon Dobbai fell ill. At first it was a troublesome cough that had afflicted her while sitting in her chair on the palace balcony. Servants brought her fruit juice and water but she could not shake it off and as the afternoon wore on a concerned Gallia sent for Alcaeus, who prescribed grape juice mixed with honey. However, despite the application of this well-known remedy Dobbai continued to cough, her frail body pitching forward as she did so. Gallia sat holding her hand and an increasingly alarmed Claudia rushed to the kitchens to prepare a concoction of crushed turmeric root. But this and all the other medicines had no effect and Dobbai continued to cough so I assisted Alcaeus in taking her to her bedroom.

  After she had been made comfortable her coughing seemed to subside and I breathed a sigh of relief, but as I was about to leave her she grabbed my arm.

  ‘I told you there would be a price to pay, son of Hatra,’ her grip was frail and she suddenly looked very old.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said unconvincingly.

  She looked at me mockingly. ‘Do not insult me. You know full well what I mean. The gods always demand payment, son of Hatra, remember that.’

  Gallia stayed with her and Alcaeus returned to his quarters but was later urgently recalled when Dobbai developed a fever. One minute the sweat poured off her and she could not bear a blanket to be over her, the next she was shivering and desperate for warmth. This continued into the late afternoon and early evening. She could only ingest small amounts of water and then with great difficulty, her throat closing as she was wracked by violent spasms. Gallia held her hand, ashen faced, while Claudia became distraught and had to be taken from the room.

  Alcaeus was at a loss what to do. He ordered her bedding to be changed and the straw in the mattress to be taken and burnt, and then sent orders to the kitchens to soak two small pieces of cloth in egg whites and bring them to him. When they arrived he wrapped them around the soles of Dobbai’s feet. We all looked at him as though he had gone mad.

  ‘An old Greek trick. The egg whites draw the high temperature down from the brain to the feet.’

  It worked as Dobbai’s temperature began to fall and she became lucid once more.

  ‘Thank you, doctor,’ she said weakly, ‘but
your skills, great as they are, will not work here.’

  Alcaeus stayed for another hour, in which Dobbai slept and he suggested that we leave her to get some rest. I sat with him on the palace terrace as Claudia burned dragon’s blood resin, which was resin from a palm tree, in Dobbai’s room to both purify it and protect her from evil influences

  ‘She is a remarkable young girl,’ said Alcaeus, ‘her knowledge of herbs and medicines is amazing.’

  ‘I did not know you had been teaching Claudia your craft,’ I said.

  ‘I have not. She visits me often and questions me about the workings of the human body but when it comes to treatments she needs little tutoring.’

  ‘She has been close to Dobbai since she was an infant,’ I said, ‘perhaps too close. How ill is Dobbai?’

  He shrugged. ‘She is old, Pacorus, and like all elderly people is more susceptible to ailments. She has caught some sort of fever that I have not seen before but the next twenty-four hours should determine whether she survives or not.’

  ‘It is not a fever.’

  As we sat in the dark with oil lamps illuminating our faces I told him about the ceremony that Dobbai had carried out and my participation in it, along with the others, about the celestial mist and the howling hounds. He was naturally sceptical and told me that all these things had a rational explanation.

  ‘Drenis and Kronos both took part in the ritual and they are both dead,’ I told him.

  ‘They were both soldiers killed on the battlefield; it happens.’

  He smiled at me. ‘When Dobbai recovers, all these thoughts you are having will disappear. I advise you to get some rest.’

  But Dobbai did not recover: over the next two days she got worse. The fever returned and with it violent convulsions that wracked her old body and made her progressively weaker. She drifted in and out of consciousness and visibly diminished before our eyes. The servants were frightened by her sunken cheeks and eye sockets and refused to enter her room. An angry Gallia told them to leave food, water and fresh bedding outside in the corridor and performed all their duties herself. With the help of Claudia she washed Dobbai, changed her soiled bedding and recited prayers that her daughter suggested. It was all to no avail. On the third day Dobbai’s hair began to fall out and her breathing became extremely shallow.