by Peter Darman
He stood. ‘Scouts have detected a large Armenian force advancing towards the city from the northeast.’
Men looked at each other and some may have been alarmed but no one spoke. The officers of the Royal Bodyguard were too professional to allow their emotions to show. Assur was impassive – all the demons from the underworld could be converging on the city and he would be unconcerned, believing that Shamash would protect Hatra as long as the people remained pious.
‘How many Armenians?’ I asked.
‘We have not been able to discover that as yet,’ replied Gafarn.
‘May I suggest we convene a council of war to determine our next move,’ I said.
My mother suggested the gazebo in her secret garden and insisted on attending. It was now mid-morning and the temperature was already rising, though it was pleasant enough in the shade of the arbour. Immaculately dressed slave girls with painted fingernails and oiled hair brought us fruit juice, yoghurt, wafers, fruit and pastries as we reclined on couches and determined how best to slaughter the enemy. As we did Gafarn received more updates on the composition of the Armenian army and its distance from the city. As I devoured a delicious honey cake topped with seeds he revealed that around one hundred thousand Armenians were four hours away.
‘Outnumbered four to one,’ remarked Domitus casually. ‘Sounds decent odds.’
Vagises laughed while Vistaspa frowned but Gafarn said nothing.
‘Do Romans always give battle no matter what the odds?’ my mother asked Domitus politely.
He wiped away crumbs from around his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Yes, lady, always. They believe that if you attack first it gives you an advantage and also pleases the gods.’
‘And what gods are those?’ she enquired further.
‘Chiefly Mars, god of war,’ replied Domitus proudly, ‘and the god of death.’
My mother was intrigued. ‘And does he have a name, this god of death?’
Domitus nodded. ‘He does, lady, but I prefer not to say it in case he notices me and takes me away into the next life for doing so.’
My mother smiled. ‘How quaint. And do you believe that we should fight the Armenians, Roman?’
Domitus grinned broadly. ‘Yes, lady.’
She looked at Gafarn and then me. ‘And what do my two sons think?’
I waited for Gafarn to speak first even though technically I outranked him as lord high general.
‘I await the decision of the empire’s lord high general,’ he replied.
I finished another honey cake. They really were most palatable.
‘By the time the Armenians get here we will still have five hours of daylight left, more than enough to fight a battle. The enemy will be tired after marching all day in the heat whilst our men will be fresh, but if we allow them to make camp then tomorrow we will have to fight an invigorated opponent. I therefore propose to fight the Armenians outside the city, today.’
‘Even though we are outnumbered?’ asked Vistaspa.
‘It is not the size of the man in the fight, Lord Vistaspa,’ said Domitus, ‘but the size of the fight in the man.’
My mother laughed and clapped her hands. ‘You really are a most intriguing individual, Roman.’
‘Even though we are outnumbered,’ I replied. ‘I have no stomach to be cooped up inside this city like lambs in a pen awaiting slaughter. Silaces is on his way from Assur and Orodes and Nergal are advancing from the south. If we allow the Armenians to lay siege to Hatra they will be able to engage our friends separately while we are trapped inside the city. This I cannot allow.’
I looked at Gafarn who smiled at me. ‘I agree. Kogan, bring all the caravans that are camped outside the city within the walls and quarter them in the squares.’
‘I will need to bring my mules, wagons and siege engines into the city as well,’ I told Gafarn.
‘Put them in the Great Square,’ he replied.
Assur raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘Adjacent to the Great Temple?’
‘I’m sure Shamash will understand,’ said Gafarn. ‘We are, after all, defending His sanctuary from the heathens.’
‘We will all defend your temple, Lord Assur,’ said my mother, ‘I will fetch my bow and stand on the battlements beside Lord Kogan’s men.’
Domitus looked at her in surprise.
‘You think I am a frail old woman, Roman,’ she asked, ‘fit only to be raped and murdered if the enemy breaches the walls? I can shoot a bow as well as any man.’
‘I don’t doubt it, lady,’ he replied admiringly.
Diana, who had once been an Amazon, also declared her intention to stand on the walls beside her mother-in-law, but when I suggested that Gallia might like to join them I was met by an icy glare.
‘I will be fighting alongside you with the Amazons, my dear,’ she insisted.
So I kissed my mother farewell and ordered Domitus to pass the word on to Marcus that the Duran camp was to be dismantled and the wagons and animals brought into the Great Square. He was to use the city’s northern gates, which gave direct access to the royal quarter. In addition to Kogan’s guards, the three thousand squires of Hatra’s cataphracts and Royal Bodyguard, plus a further two thousand from Dura, would reinforce the garrison. This gave Kogan a total of seven thousand men and boys, plus my mother and Diana.
The Armenians had hugged the Tigris on their way here before heading southwest into the desert to advance on Hatra. They had also probably diverted a number of troops to the city of Assur to keep Herneus occupied and prevent him from reinforcing Hatra. I was not worried about him: he had ten thousand horse archers plus his garrison to defend the city. But I was concerned that any assault against Assur would prevent Silaces from reaching us.
I walked with Domitus from the gardens, through the palace and into the Great Square, which would soon be filled with mules and wagons.
‘We will place Marcus’ smaller ballista among the first line cohorts,’ I said, thinking aloud. ‘Because we are greatly outnumbered we will deploy the Durans and Exiles in two lines to extend their frontage, with the horse archers on the wings and the cataphracts held back as a reserve. The Armenians will be confident of victory and we will use that against them by drawing them onto our javelins and swords.’
‘You have been doing a lot of thinking,’ he said.
I stopped and looked at him. ‘This is the city where I grew up, Domitus, a place of great strength and certainty in an uncertain world. When I was in Italy the thought of Hatra was a comfort to me: its many towers, its high walls and great moat. Whatever calamities befell the empire, the one constant was the strength of Hatra, the capital of the greatest kingdom in the empire.
‘But now much of that kingdom lies in enemy hands and this city itself is in peril. I will not stand idly by and watch it fall to the Armenians, not while there is breath left in my body.’
He smiled and laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘Do not fear. You have created an army that would follow you into the underworld if you asked it to.’
‘Just a few miles outside the city will suffice.’
I looked at the entrance of the Great Temple. ‘I think I will take a few minutes in the temple Domitus.’
‘Not thinking of becoming a priest are you?’
‘Not yet. Deploy the army immediately north of the city. I will meet you there. By the way, what is the name of the Roman god of death?’
He looked pensive before shrugging. ‘Mors.’
We clasped arms and then he marched off to organise the movement of thousands of men and animals. It would take about three hours for the camp to be dismantled and the tents and palisade stakes to be loaded onto wagons and mules and brought into the city. The squires would be earmarked for the menial tasks while the legions, horse archers and cataphracts marched by the city’s eastern wall to take up position beyond the northern gates. Hatra’s horsemen, meanwhile, would exit the city via the northern gates and join their Duran and Carmanian allies to await the Armen
ians.
I walked across the square to the steps that led to the entrance of the impressive colonnaded temple, its great bronze-faced doors positioned facing east to welcome the Sun God each day as He made another journey through the heavens. I walked through the doors and into the spacious, airy interior that was flooded with sunlight coming through the many high windows cut in the walls. White-robed priests moved across the white marble tiles in soft slippers in order to make as little noise as possible so as not to disturb the Sun God.
The temple was filled with the aroma of frankincense, which was burned every morning to purify its interior of any malign influences. In the middle of the day myrrh was burned to unite heaven and earth and in the evening the priests always burned kapet, a mixture of cedar bark, juniper berries, cinnamon, wine, honey, raisins, galangal, myrrh and benzoin, to purify the temple. I walked up the central aisle to where the high altar basked in bright sunlight. I took a seat and stared at the silver eagle that was laid before it, the eagle that I had taken all those years ago. As far as I knew it had not been touched since Assur had placed it there as an offering to Shamash, though I suspected that it had been dusted if not cleaned during the past twenty years, since it looked immaculate.
Though one or two priests moved silently around inside the cavernous structure it seemed as though I was alone before Shamash. I closed my eyes and prayed to Him – that He would grant our forces victory over the Armenians and deliver up this, His city, that He would look over and protect my mother and my family, and finally that He would safeguard the empire against its many enemies in its hour of need. I opened my eyes and saw a young girl standing in front of the altar. She wore a simple brown dress; her feet and her arms were bare. She had long black hair that cascaded down her back. She knelt down in front of the altar and extended her arm to touch the eagle.
‘Do not touch that,’ I ordered.
She withdrew her arm and got to her feet, then turned to face me. She had a pretty face with big brown eyes and a mischievous grin. She sauntered over and sat down beside me. She looked at the eagle.
‘Is it yours?’
‘No,’ I replied, ‘it belongs to the Sun God.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He is god; he is all around us.’
‘Why were you sitting with your eyes closed?’
‘I was praying in quiet contemplation,’ I replied. ‘You should try it.’
She looked at me with a quizzical expression. ‘What were you asking for?’
She was an irksome child. ‘Where are your parents?’
She looked at her bare feet. ‘Dead.’
‘I am sorry.’
She giggled. ‘Why? You did not know them. You have not answered my question.’
I sighed and looked around for someone to take the urchin away but could see no one. We were totally alone.
‘If you must know I was asking the Sun God to grant me victory.’
She began swinging her lower legs that dangled from her seat. ‘Victory over who?’
I smiled at her innocence. ‘The Armenians who are approaching the city.’
She suddenly jumped off her seat and ran over to the eagle and stood by it. ‘Where are the other eagles?’
‘Other eagles?’
‘Yes, the other eagles who look like this one.’
I was mildly surprised by this question to say the least but decided to indulge her infantile mind. Someone had obviously told her about the Romans. ‘They are gathering in the west.’
‘You will have to beat them as well and then you can place all seven eagles beside this one.’
I stood up as she once more knelt beside the Roman eagle. ‘How do you know this?’
She giggled. ‘Everyone knows that the Romans are invading Parthia just as they know that you will save the empire.’
At that moment the rays of the sun shone on the eagle and reflected into my eyes, temporarily blinding me. The girl giggled again.
‘You should have faith, son of Hatra.’
I moved aside and looked at the altar but there was no one there. I glanced left and right and then behind me but saw no one and heard only my own footsteps on the tiles as I searched the temple in vain for the girl. She was nowhere to be seen. I saw a priest and was about to question him regarding seeing the child but thought better of it. Perhaps the incense had befuddled my senses and I had dreamt the whole episode. And yet…
I left the temple and walked to the stables to collect Remus who had been brushed and was beginning to return to his original colour. Around me hundreds of squires were assisting their masters into their scale armour while others were encasing horses in thick hide covered with iron scales. Farriers were replacing horseshoes, veterinaries were examining horses and cataphracts were checking their weapons.
I mounted Remus and rode him from the royal quarter and out of the city via the eastern gates. I had to thread my way through a great press of camels that were being brought into Hatra as the caravan parks around it were emptied on Kogan’s orders. The Duran camp was likewise a hive of activity as legionaries gathered in their centuries and cohorts and horsemen in their companies and dragons. Already a long line of wagons was making its way to the city and mules were being loaded with equipment. It was very hot and already my silk vest under my tunic was drenched in sweat. For the cataphracts and their horses in their heavy armour it was far worse but at least they did not have the prospect of a long march ahead of them.
Most of the tents had been stashed on the wagons but Domitus’ command tent still stood and inside he and the others awaited me, the Amazons sitting on the ground around it waiting for their mistress. I dismounted, handed Remus’ reins to Zenobia, took off my helmet and went inside.
‘Ah, the priest returns,’ quipped Domitus. ‘We were beginning to think that you might sit out the battle in meditation.’
‘Very droll,’ I replied.
I looked at Malik and Byrd. ‘Get your scouts out to ensure the Armenians do not detach forces to sweep around our rear.’
They nodded and both left. I turned to Marcus.
‘Are your ballista ready?’
He smiled. ‘The crews are fully briefed.’
I turned to Vagises and Peroz. ‘Vagises, your horse archers will initially be deployed dismounted behind the first line cohorts. The Armenians will endeavour to smash our centre with their overwhelming numbers of foot. Three thousand archers shooting at them will hopefully diminish the force of their initial assault.’
‘What of my men, majesty?’ requested Peroz.
‘You, lord prince, will be positioned on the army’s left wing. King Gafarn will take up position on the right with his horse archers.’
An hour later I was mounted on Remus reiterating my battle plan with Vistaspa and Gafarn to the rear of the army that was waiting for the Armenian host. I suggested that Vistaspa take command of all the cataphracts that were grouped in two large blocks to the rear of our position, every man having planted the butt spike of his kontus in the hard earth and the Durans having shoved their full-face helmets up onto their heads. Vistaspa was most pleased by my suggestion but it made sense: of all of us he had the most experience and was respected by both Hatra’s élite horsemen and my own heavy cavalry.
‘That’s decided, then,’ I said happily.
The ground we would fight the battle on was ideal for horsemen, comprising largely flat terrain with the occasional depression or mound. In the spring rains there is a brief covering of young green grass but this quickly disappears to leave an environment as it appeared now: sun-roasted hard earth with a sprinkling of the only plants that can live in this harsh land – southernwood, wormwood and dragonwort. Domitus had positioned his legions so they faced northeast, which meant that the sun was behind his men’s’ backs as it began its slow descent in the west. We were around half of a mile from Hatra’s northern gates, allowing the army room for manoeuvre and also being close enough to provide an escape route back to the city sho
uld disaster befall us. The legions covered a frontage of a mile and either side of them each wing of horse archers presented a frontage of half a mile. Our battle line looked impressive but we were as thin as papyrus and everyone knew it.
We did not see the Armenians first but rather heard them – a low, rumbling sound to the northeast that slowly got louder as the enemy approached.
‘Kettledrums,’ I mumbled to myself.
If there was one thing that I had come to loathe it was kettledrums, which always reminded me of the armies of Narses and Mithridates, though they were both dead. As soon as I heard that awful drumming sound my mind conjured up images of the pair, sitting on their horses mocking me. The Durans and Exiles had been sitting or lying on the ground and when they heard the annoying racket some stood up and peered into the distance. Most, though, continued their rest or conversation with their comrades. They had heard it too many times to let it bother them and had become expert at using it to judge how far away the enemy was.
Minutes later a group of horsemen galloped through the gap between the legions and Gafarn’s horse archers on the right flank, most of whom were also sitting on the ground beside their mounts.
Byrd and Malik brought their horses to a halt in front of me and raised their hands in salute. I saw that their horses were both sweating from a long gallop. Their arrival was a signal for others to gather around us as the figures of Domitus, Vagises and Chrestus strode from the ranks of legionaries ahead and Gafarn left his horse archers with a company of bodyguards following him. And from the Carmanians rode Peroz and fifty other horsemen with Vistaspa also riding from his cataphracts. He joined Gafarn and the prince of Carmania as they drew level beside Malik, their escorts remaining fifty paces away.
Byrd uncorked his water bottle and took a sip. ‘Armenians half an hour away.’
‘Numbers?’ I asked, though I already knew that they greatly outnumbered us. Domitus, bareheaded, nodded at Malik as he stood in front of Remus next to the sweating Chrestus.
‘A hundred thousand foot and fifty thousand horse,’ replied Byrd without emotion.
Domitus pointed his cane at me. ‘I thought you said we would be outnumbered four to one? I make it six to one. You sure you didn’t count some of the enemy twice, Byrd?’