by Peter Darman
He suddenly looked melancholic. ‘I heard about Lucius Domitus. I grieve with you. He was a great soldier.’
‘And a greater friend,’ added Gallia with a cheerless voice.
‘You go now to fight the Romans, uncle?’ he asked.
‘After we have recovered our strength and been reinforced by our allies, yes. I had wanted to deal with Crassus first but the gods dictated otherwise.’
‘I would ask a favour of you,’ he said.
‘What favour can I grant the triumphant Prince of Hatra?’ I teased him. ‘A boy no longer but a valiant member of your city’s Royal Bodyguard.’
‘I wish to come with you when you march against the Romans,’ he said.
I drank some wine. ‘That will be for your father to decide, Spartacus. You are no longer my squire.’
Gallia laid a hand on his arm. ‘Pacorus will ensure that you are beside him when he faces Crassus, Spartacus, have no fear.’
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You have always been and will ever remain my favourite aunt.’
He gulped down his wine, bowed his head to me and then asked if he could take his leave. I stood and shook his hand and he embraced Gallia and then sauntered from our presence.
‘What did you say that for?’ I asked.
She shook her head. ‘You think he has forgotten about the quest that Haytham set him? You think he has forgotten about the woman whose strand of hair hangs around his neck?’
I sighed deeply. ‘That nonsense again. I had forgotten.’
‘Just make sure you take him with you.’
I laughed. ‘The chances of him taking a Roman eagle are infinitesimal, they really are.’
‘You took one,’ she shot back.
‘That was different.’
‘How?’
‘It just was.’
She pointed a finger at me. ‘You promised Claudia that you would take care of her son.’
Sometimes the female mind baffled me. ‘What?’
‘If you deprive him of the chance of marrying Rasha he will be deeply unhappy. You do not want that, do you?’
I gave up. ‘Apparently not. Very well, I will ask Gafarn if his son can accompany me.’
Once more the sentry disturbed us to announce that my senior officers were outside. I ordered him to let them in and also to fetch more wine as they entered and slumped into the chairs around the table. They all looked dead on their feet, their faces showing stubble and their clothes dirty and torn. I emptied the wine jug and then half of the fresh one brought in by a sentry to provide them with refreshment as they made their reports.
‘The legions lost four hundred and fifty dead and seven hundred wounded,’ said Chrestus without emotion.
‘Of the wounded around a quarter will not last through the night,’ added Alcaeus.
Vagises looked up. ‘The horse archers lost one hundred and twenty killed and two hundred wounded, with a similar number of horses lost. Losses among the cataphracts are considerably less. Ten killed and fifty wounded.’
‘Three hundred of my men were also slain today,’ reported Peroz, ‘with a further five hundred wounded.’
‘It was a hard fight,’ I agreed, ‘though the Armenians suffered far more so let us thank the gods for that.’
‘And now?’ asked Vagises.
‘And now, my friend,’ I answered, ‘we cremate our dead, await our allies and prepare to fight Marcus Licinius Crassus.’
‘I have lost all my smaller ballista,’ said a distraught Marcus. ‘They were destroyed by the Armenians.’
‘They can be replaced,’ I told him, ‘but at least the larger ones are safe in Hatra. They will be needed against the walls of Nisibus.’
Before they lay down on the carpets and wrapped themselves in their cloaks to sleep I told Chrestus that he now commanded the legions. He had served a long apprenticeship under Kronos and I knew that Domitus rated him highly, which was all the recommendation I needed.
The next day Orodes and Nergal arrived from the south with the armies of Babylon and Mesene – eight thousand foot, twelve thousand horse archers, five hundred cataphracts and Orodes’ Royal Guard – while from the west came Atrax leading the army of Media and Gordyene’s foot soldiers, an additional ten thousand foot, four thousand horse archers and five hundred cataphracts. And with Atrax rode the King of Gordyene with his horsemen, which included the Sarmatians, many of whom had bloody scalps dangling from their saddles.
There was a service of thanksgiving in the Great Temple, which was so full that the congregation spilled out of its main entrance, down the steps and onto the Great Square. The mood of the city, previously apprehensive, became happy and carefree, pretty young women kissing any soldier they could find and citizens acclaiming King Gafarn the greatest ruler that had ever sat upon Hatra’s throne. It was amazing how victory was a panacea for all ills. In the aftermath of the battle blind people apparently regained their sight and the crippled discarded their crutches and walked again so beloved of the gods was Hatra, or so I heard.
Amid the delirium of triumph I ordered Kogan to keep the Sarmatians out of the city, suggesting to Gafarn that he send ample quantities of wine and beer to their camp to keep them in a state of stupefaction rather than raping the female population of his capital.
After the service of thanksgiving kings, queens and nobles gathered in the throne room where those who had showed exceptional bravery in the battle were rewarded with gold, expensive swords and even grants of land. I was not only pleased for Gafarn and Diana, whose rule had finally been vindicated, but also for my mother who sat on the dais beside them. The past few years had been hard for her. Not only had she lost her husband, my father, but had also seen parts of his kingdom seized by enemies and the authority of her adopted son challenged. But one of those enemies had been dealt a heavy blow and today she smiled and radiated majesty.
Surena, who had deliberately missed the service in the temple, believing that there were no gods, now came into the chamber with his senior officers. They walked to the dais and bowed their heads at Gafarn and then Surena stood before Adeleh and bowed his head. Behind him two of his officers unfurled a great purple flag bearing an eight-pointed flower flanked by two eagles and placed it on the floor before her. We all looked on intrigued as Surena went down on one knee before my sister.
‘Behold, lady, the banner of Artashes, the Armenian upstart whose army was yesterday destroyed outside this city. He is now but one of the many thousands of Armenian dead who litter the ground. I present you with his banner, princess, with the promise that his death and the liberation of Nisibus, your late husband’s city, will avenge Prince Vata’s death. This I swear in front of you and all those assembled in this great hall.’
There was warm applause at these words and Adeleh, her eyes moist with tears, walked forward and bid Surena to rise. She held out her hand and he kissed it before stepping back and bowing his head to her. It was a nice gesture, I thought.
Hatra felt like the city of old, with a king basking in victory and strengthened by allies. Gallia and Praxima chatted with a radiant Diana and Spartacus teased the young Prince Pacorus. Assur stood next to a pillar surrounded by his stern priests while Vistaspa was deep in conversation with Orodes, no doubt discussing the next phase of the campaign. And it was to Vistaspa that a guard handed a note that caused my brother’s general to frown and pass it on to Orodes.
The high king read it and then turned and saw me, beckoning me over. A knot tightening in my stomach told me that it was bad news before I reached him.
‘Crassus is preparing to cross the Euphrates at Zeugma,’ said Orodes. He handed me the note. ‘He is bringing fifty thousand men with him.’
Vistaspa was in a bullish mood. ‘Having just defeated over one hundred thousand Armenians we do not have anything to fear from half that number of Romans, majesty.’
Orodes smiled at him but I knew as he did that the Romans were a far tougher proposition than the Armenians.
Chapter 17
The next day I sat with the other kings on couches in the private wing of my brother’s palace. Outside peacocks roamed freely in the royal gardens and the scent of cedar and jasmine filled the ground-floor room, the doors leading to the veranda outside open to allow the air and sunlight to enter. Gafarn looked like a man reborn, his eyes afire with vigour and the haunted looked he had worn exorcised by the great victory we had won. Orodes, dressed in a rich purple silk shirt, baggy white leggings and red boots, also looked relaxed, despite knowing that the Romans were at long last on the march. Only Surena looked like a man who had just returned from the battlefield, attired in his black shirt and leggings, scale armour cuirass and helmet, which he had placed on the tiled floor in front of his couch.
After slaves had served us wine in solid gold rhytons, Orodes held up his drinking vessel to Gafarn.
‘A toast to the Kingdom of Hatra, whose forces have vanquished a great threat to the Parthian Empire.’
We raised our rhytons and drank the wine that was perhaps the finest I had ever tasted.
‘And to the Kingdom of Dura and the lord high general of the empire,’ added Orodes, raising his goblet a second time, this time to me.
We emptied our drinking vessels and the slaves refilled them as the king of kings leaned back on his couch.
‘And so, my friends, in the afterglow of victory we must turn our attention to dealing with another threat to the empire. Yesterday we received news that Crassus is about to cross the River Euphrates and begin the campaign that he believes will lead to the conquest of Parthia.’
Gafarn looked thoughtful but not particularly troubled while Silaces and Atrax looked at each other, Surena said nothing and Nergal sneered contemptuously.
‘What advice would my lord high general give?’ asked Orodes.
I drained my goblet and held it out to be refilled, but before I could say anything Surena spoke.
‘The Armenians must be pursued and Nisibus retaken before Armenia itself is invaded. The more time we spend here acting like debauched Persians the more opportunity Artavasdes has to raise another army.’
Atrax and Nergal looked wide-eyed at him while Silaces, who had spent many years campaigning with the King of Gordyene, merely shook his head resignedly. Gafarn frowned at Surena and Orodes looked aghast at his impertinence. Manners and etiquette were everything to Orodes. Even when he had been a landless, exiled prince at Hatra he had retained his strict sense of protocol and graciousness at all times.
‘I was not aware that you were now Parthia’s lord high general,’ he rebuked Surena, who looked at Orodes’ grave demeanour and blushed. I decided to save him from further embarrassment.
‘What Surena says is correct. We must send an army north to retake Nisibus and prevent the Armenians from raising fresh forces that can threaten Hatra. And if that means invading Armenia then so be it.’ Surena smiled to himself, no doubt thinking of how he and his Sarmatians would ravage Armenian lands.
‘And the Romans, Pacorus?’ asked Nergal. ‘What of them? If we march north then Crassus will surely be at the gates of this city when we return.’
‘You are right, my friend,’ I agreed, ‘we cannot allow Crassus a free hand in Parthia. Therefore I propose sending a force west to slow down his advance while the bulk of our armies deal with the Armenians, what is left of them.’
I smiled at Surena. ‘Dura’s legions, together with their siege engines and accompanied by the foot soldiers of Gordyene, Media and Babylon, can go north to lay siege to Nisibus. This will total twenty-eight thousand men. With them will go the heavy horsemen of Babylon, Media and Hatra – two and a half thousand men – plus the horse archers of Prince Peroz, Babylon, Media, Hatra, Mesene and some drawn from the ranks of Surena’s mounted bowmen, plus Gordyene’s medium horsemen. This gives a total of around thirty thousand horsemen, including Babylon’s Royal Guard. It is only fitting that King of Kings Orodes should lead this army.’
‘Some of my horse archers, lord?’ queried Surena.
I smiled at him. ‘Indeed so, my young lion, for you and I will be riding west with Dura’s cataphracts, horse archers and a portion of your own horse archers to engage Crassus.’
Orodes looked alarmed. ‘If I take sixty thousand men north, Pacorus, how many men will be left to accompany you and Surena to face Crassus?’
‘Ten thousand,’ I answered.
The others shook their heads in disbelief. ‘Ten thousand horsemen cannot defeat a Roman army of fifty thousand men, Pacorus,’ said Nergal in alarm.
‘You go to certain defeat,’ remarked an even more alarmed Atrax.
I held up a hand. ‘My friends, please understand that the last thing I desire is a noble death at the hands of the Romans. I do not go to engage them in battle but rather to harry them, to both slow them down and wear them down. It is three hundred miles from Hatra to Zeugma. Crassus will cross the Euphrates in a few days’ time and I will leave this city tomorrow. He will march twenty miles a day whereas I can cover over thirty each day. Once I reach him my horsemen can launch hit-and-run attacks and stay out of range of his best units, his legions.’
‘He will march down the Euphrates,’ said Gafarn, ‘towards Babylon and Seleucia.’
‘That is correct,’ I said.
‘And towards Dura,’ added Nergal whose frown was increasing by the minute.
‘He will never get that far,’ I said. ‘How far can an army march each day while being under constant volleys of arrows and being raided by horsemen? The Romans will form a square with their shields locked, which will slow them down. Some days they might not even venture from camp.’
‘They will send their horsemen against us,’ said Surena.
I nodded. ‘True, but that is why I will take my cataphracts. They are more than capable of scattering any Roman horsemen.’
‘It is a risky strategy, Pacorus,’ said Orodes.
‘Less risky than allowing Crassus to reach Seleucia,’ I replied.
‘Would it not be better to send a larger force to engage Crassus and a smaller one to deal with the Armenians?’ suggested Atrax.
‘If Artavasdes had been killed outside Hatra, then yes,’ I replied. ‘But the Armenian king still holds Nisibus and can still send another army south into Hatra. Therefore a large force is required to both lay siege to Nisibus and deal with a second Armenian army that he will undoubtedly lead to relieve that city once it is besieged.’
Atrax remained sceptical but thankfully Orodes accepted my advice and agreed that he should march north with the bulk of our forces. I was convinced that at the very least I could slow Crassus’ advance to a crawl, giving us time to capture Nisibus, defeat any forces that Artavasdes gathered and then muster an army at Hatra to engage Crassus.
Our strategy agreed I walked with the others through the palace to return to camp. Surena walked beside me, his helmet in the crook of his arm.
‘I should go north with my army, lord,’ he said.
‘Most of it will be going north, Surena, but I would like you to come with me.’
‘Why me?’ he asked.
‘Because your army is the most experienced among the empire’s kingdoms: it has been fighting the Armenians for years and you yourself are among the most successful of Parthia’s generals.’
‘No more successful than you, lord,’ he shot back. ‘And both Nergal and Silaces have far more experience than me.’
What he said was true but what I did not tell him was that I did not want him and his men rampaging through Armenia butchering all and sundry. Artavasdes would hardly be agreeable to peace if his kingdom was invaded and his people slaughtered. However, I hoped the threat that this might happen if he did not acquiesce to our demands would be sufficient to his agreeing to peace, especially after we had taken Nisibus back and Orodes stood on Hatra’s northern border ready to invade Armenia.
I put an arm round Surena’s shoulder. ‘I would esteem it a great honour and special favour
if you would accompany me.’
‘Very well, lord,’ he said. ‘Would you like me to bring my Sarmatians?’
The thought horrified me. ‘I think they should accompany Orodes. They will be useful for raiding enemy territory.’
Orodes chatted to the others as we walked from the palace’s private chambers, into the throne room and then along the corridor that led to the building’s entrance. It was a beautiful late spring day, the sun in a cloudless blue sky highlighting the power and majesty of the Grand Temple and the vastness of the adjacent Great Square that was now empty of Dura’s wagons and mules.
I was walking down the stone steps to go to the stables to collect Remus when I saw a group of riders approach. They drew closer and then halted before dismounting and leading their horses towards the palace steps. I saw that the swarthy figure leading them was Apollonius, fresh from his journey to the north. He handed the reins to one of his companions and strode over to stand before Gafarn.
‘Lord Apollonius,’ he said without enthusiasm.
Apollonius bowed deeply before his king. ‘Hail, great king, slayer of the Armenian barbarians. I hurried back as quickly as I could when I heard that Hatra was in danger.’
I looked at his immaculate scale armour cuirass of overlapping steel plates, his spotless white shirt and brown boots that did not have a mark on them. His horse looked as though it had just been groomed and the attire of his fellow lords was similarly spotless and unruffled. Wherever they had been they had not been hurrying anywhere.
‘Where are the horse archers you led from the city?’ asked Gafarn.
‘Safely returned to barracks in the city, majesty’ Apollonius replied.
I looked past him to where his companions were shifting uneasily on their feet, glancing at each other furtively. They stank of treachery.
I walked down the final two steps and held out my right hand to Apollonius.
‘All will be settled soon.’