Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles)

by Darman, Peter

  Shortly afterwards, at the weekly council meeting held in the headquarters building in the Citadel, the official home of Domitus, he brought up the subject of the additional guards. In attendance as usual were Godarz the city governor, Rsan the royal treasurer, and Prince Orodes a dear friend, now an exile from his homeland. Gallia also liked to sit in on these meetings, but today she and Dobbai had taken Claudia on a visit to the tiny harbour positioned at the foot of the escarpment directly under the Citadel. They had promised to take her fishing on the river, and as the day was clear and the waters calm they had left early in the morning, promising to return with a basket full of fish for our evening meal.

  ‘So,’ said Domitus, ‘would you care to enlighten us about why the Citadel was suddenly filled with additional guards?’

  ‘I had hoped to keep the matter discreet.’

  Domitus laughed. ‘No chance of that with your palace walls lined with soldiers.’

  ‘Well, if you must know Dobbai had a vision and told me that I would be the target of an assassin’s dagger.’

  Rsan, who had taken to bringing a clerk with him to these meetings, a tall, pale youth with light brown hair, immediately instructed the boy not to make a note of that. My treasurer was an able, conscientious man but was prone to take alarm at the slightest provocation. It was so now.

  ‘Assassin, majesty? That is grave news indeed.’

  I raised my hand at him. ‘I’m sure it is nothing. In any case I do not intend to go skulking round in my own kingdom.’

  Domitus was frowning. ‘You should have told me.’

  ‘And what would you have done?’ I asked.

  ‘Tightened security.’

  ‘Which means more guards.’ I shook my head. ‘No, that would not do at all. There are thousands of people who travel through Dura every year. They cannot all be stopped and searched. That would interfere with trade and soon the caravans would start to avoid us and we can’t have that. Is that not correct, Rsan?’

  Rsan began shaking his head vigorously. ‘Yes, majesty. It is most important that trade is not interfered with.’ He looked at his clerk. ‘Make a note of that.’

  Rsan regarded anything that threatened the kingdom’s profits with abject horror.

  ‘So that’s an end to the matter,’ I said. ‘On another subject, I have been thinking for a while of establishing in the kingdom a breeding centre for horses.’

  ‘Sensible idea,’ remarked Godarz, ‘at the moment we have to hire studs from your father’s kingdom or further afield, such as Media and Atropaiene.’

  ‘Exactly,’ I said, ‘it makes more sense if we can establish our own herds to supply the army. Cheaper as well.’

  I could see Rsan nodding approvingly.

  ‘Of course,’ I continued, ‘it will be expensive to start with.’

  Rsan stopped nodding. ‘Expensive, majesty?’

  ‘Naturally, I’m only interested in the finest bloodstock. And I would prefer if we could have a herd of pure whites, such as the horses of my father’s bodyguard.’

  Godarz the governor of Dura and the city’s father figure exhaled loudly. ‘That will take a lot of time and a lot of money. Creating such a herd will not be easy, Pacorus.’ Godarz lent back in his chair and ran his hands over his scalp in contemplation. ‘It could take many years. Purchasing suitable studs will be very expensive, and even when you have them there is no guarantee they will produce pure whites.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ I said, ‘I want you to make a start, Godarz. Contact the breeders in Hatra, Media and Atropaiene.

  ‘And the funds will be made available?’

  ‘Pay whatever it costs.’

  Rsan went ashen faced. ‘I really must protest, majesty.’

  ‘There’s a surprise,’ muttered Domitus.

  ‘After all,’ said Rsan, ignoring Domitus, ‘surely one horse is much the same as another.’

  I, Godarz and Orodes looked at him with horror. What he had said equated to sacrilege.

  ‘I can assure you, Lord Rsan,’ said Orodes slowly and purposely, ‘there is a great difference between horse breeds.’

  Orodes was a prince of Susiana, a kingdom in the centre of the empire. He was a brave and loyal friend to me, and that loyalty had cost him his crown for supporting me.

  ‘What Prince Orodes says is true, my old friend,’ added Godarz. ‘The finest breeds of Parthian horses are the Przewalski, Karabair, Akhal-Teke and Nisean. Remus is descended from Carthaginian stock, of course. You wish to breed from him as well?’ he asked me.

  ‘I would like him to sire a line, yes.’

  Rsan wore a blank look and I could tell that we might as well have been talking in a foreign tongue, but I was excited by the idea and so was Godarz.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I will get started straight away.’

  Rsan cleared his throat, which was usually the signal that he had something to say but was hesitant to speak his mind.

  ‘Spit it out, Rsan.’

  ‘Well, the thing is, majesty, with the beginning of a new year there arises the matter of the annual tribute to Ctesiphon.’

  ‘No tribute will be paid to Ctesiphon,’ I replied. ‘I will draw up a letter to that effect, inviting King Mithridates to come and take what is owed to him should he so wish.’

  Every year I always hoped that when Ctesiphon was notified of my refusal to pay any tribute, Mithridates would take umbrage and send an army again Dura, but he never had, much to my disappointment. I would welcome the chance to defeat him and his lord high general, King Narses, the man who had once rebelled against King of Kings Phraates. I had defeated Narses in battle. But Narses and Mithridates had forged an alliance and whereas I had bested them both on the battlefield, they had triumphed over me when it came to intrigue. Thus it was that the Kingdom of Dura and its king were now outcasts from the Parthian Empire and Mithridates was Parthia’s high king. I had once been the empire’s lord high general but now I was viewed with contempt by those who held the highest positions within the empire. It never ceased to rile me.

  ‘There is no point in sulking, Pacorus, nothing will happen despite your desire that it be otherwise,’ said Godarz.

  Rsan looked decidedly uncomfortable and Domitus laughed. Orodes appeared stern.

  ‘You know he won’t take the bait,’ said Domitus. ‘I don’t know why you bother.’

  ‘To annoy Mithridates, of course, and to goad him into action.’

  ‘My stepbrother is full of malice, Pacorus,’ said Orodes ‘He will send Narses only when his enemies are weakened.’

  ‘Dura will never be weak,’ I growled, earning a murmur of approval from Domitus.

  ‘Enough talk of that traitorous little bastard Mithridates,’ said Domitus, ‘let’s talk about Godarz’s wedding.’

  ‘What?’ I was most surprised.

  I looked at my governor who was blushing. Orodes was smiling at him and Domitus gave him a hearty slap on the shoulders. Because of his age I had assumed that Godarz was happy being a single man, but it appeared that I was wrong. Rsan instructed the clerk to stop writing.

  Godarz held up his hands. ‘Domitus is exaggerating, I can assure you.’

  ‘No I ain’t. Byrd told me all about her. I had to work on him to get any information out of him, mind. We all know how tight-lipped he can be.’ Byrd was a Cappadocian and my head scout. We had known each other for over thirteen years.

  ‘So, Godarz,’ I said, ‘are you going to enlighten us further on your romantic adventures?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ he answered, and with that he folded his arms and said nothing further.

  The meeting over, afterwards I managed to winkle a few details out of Godarz as I walked with him back to the governor’s mansion just beyond the Citadel’s walls. Apparently he had become acquainted with a woman who was the daughter of the head of one of the richest transport guilds in Anauon, a kingdom on the eastern edge of the empire. She and her father had arrived in Dura a few weeks ago and had presented thems
elves at the governor’s mansion. Her father had rented a well-appointed house in the city and they had invited Godarz to dine with them on several occasions. I thought it odd that a transport guild from the eastern frontier of the empire should want to establish a presence in Dura, but Godarz told me that the woman’s father was expanding the length of the route along the Silk Road that his guild controlled. This woman’s father must have been very wealthy indeed to organise caravans that operated between Anauon and Dura and beyond, a distance of over a thousand miles. Godarz informed me with pride that her father’s caravans could number up to a thousand camels and horses, each one had its own guards and they carried not only silk but also ceramics, bronze, spices and medicines. It was a most impressive summary.

  By the time he had relayed all this information we had reached the gates of his mansion.

  ‘I would like to meet this mysterious woman of yours,’ I remarked casually.

  ‘And I would like you to meet her, Pacorus.’

  We strolled across the courtyard flanked by stables, storerooms, a small barracks and an armoury that held the weapons of the governor’s guards.

  ‘Perhaps you could bring her to the palace one evening.’

  He paused at the foot of the mansion’s steps leading to the columned entrance.

  ‘I have a better idea, why don’t you bring Gallia here and I can entertain you both.’

  I smiled at him. ‘That would be most excellent, my friend.’

  Godarz smiled. He was clearly very happy and I was happy for him. He was extremely diligent in the execution of his duties as governor and his workload had increased substantially after Dura had become a major trading hub in the western part of the empire. At that moment a figure appeared at the top of the steps, a man I estimated to be in his mid-twenties with dark brown shoulder-length hair and a powerful build. He walked down the stone steps and bowed his head to Godarz.

  ‘Ah, Pacorus, this is Polemo, my new headman. Polemo, meet your king.’

  Polemo placed his right hand on his chest and bowed his head to me.

  ‘Highness.’ His voice was deep and severe. He was certainly an imposing figure, broad shoulders, thick chest and strong arms protruding from the short sleeves of his blue tunic.

  ‘I assume my presence is required,’ Godarz said.

  ‘Yes, lord,’ replied Polemo, ‘the city’s chief engineer is awaiting your presence, concerning the water supply to the caravan park.’

  Godarz sighed. ‘It seems a governor’s work is never done. Thank you, Polemo. Tell him I will be with him shortly.’

  Polemo bowed his head once more and disappeared up the steps and into the mansion.

  ‘Well, duty calls,’ said Godarz.

  ‘What’s the story with Polemo?’

  ‘Oh he’s been with me for a few weeks now. Turned up unannounced at the gates one day and asked for an audience. He used to work in the palace at Zeugma until old Darius took a fancy to him, so he ran away and pitched up here.’

  I shuddered. It appeared Darius’ tastes had now extended to more mature prey.

  ‘He was a slave?’ I asked. ‘He looks like a soldier.’

  Godarz shook his head. ‘He’s as gentle as a lamb. Reads poetry, would you believe? He’s freeborn but his parents got him into the royal residence at Zeugma so he could learn to be a clerk. He can read and write Greek and Latin as well as Parthian. Darius’ loss is my gain.’

  Gallia was standing by the entrance to Remus’ stall as I rubbed him down. It was a task that could have been performed by any one of the stable hands but I found that physical labour prevented me from dwelling on things, in this case Mithridates. I always took Remus out in the morning to the training fields where I put him through his paces, and afterwards rode him back to the Citadel’s stables. Now I stood brushing his long white tail.

  ‘I know that you think that your refusal to pay tribute will prompt Mithridates to march against you, but he will not and you know it.’

  ‘Do I?’ I unwittingly tugged on Remus’ tail, causing him to grunt in protest and turn his head towards me.

  Gallia shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t take it out on Remus. It’s not his fault that you can’t get what you want.’

  I decided to change the subject. ‘Where are our daughters?’

  ‘Isabella and Eszter are with their nurses and Claudia is with Dobbai.’

  ‘Claudia spends too much time with Dobbai. I shudder to think what she is learning from her.’

  Gallia frowned. ‘You know they are close. They like spending time together.’

  ‘Too close. Dobbai is probably filling her head with nonsense.’

  Gallia’s expression hardened. ‘The same nonsense that got you made king; that saved your crown and tells you the future? Is that the nonsense you allude to?’

  I threw down the brush. ‘All I am saying is that a young girl should not spend so much time with her; that is all.’

  I began shovelling freshly produced dung into a wheelbarrow, just one of the treats I allowed myself each day.

  ‘What do you know of this woman Godarz is seeing?’ asked Gallia, changing the subject.

  I wiped my sweating brow on the sleeve of my shirt.

  ‘About as much as you do. Her father is a rich head of a trade guild based in Anauon.’

  She raised an eyebrow at this. ‘That is a long way from here. Why would she suddenly arrive in Dura?’

  I shrugged. ‘Same reason why all the other merchants and traders come here – to make money.’

  I finished shovelling the dung and pushed the now full wheelbarrow out of the stall. It would be taken to the large tannery several miles south of the river and would be used in the process that turned animal skins into leather vests for the legionaries, belts and horse furniture for the cavalry and a host of other useful items.

  ‘In any case,’ I continued, ‘we will be meeting her soon. Godarz has invited us to dine with them.’

  ‘He should have said something to me,’ said Gallia, ‘we are his family, after all.’

  I went to put my arms on her shoulders but she recoiled from me, seeing my sleeves smeared with dung.

  ‘I think not.’

  I walked over to a bucket of water on the floor opposite the stall and washed my hands in it.

  ‘He has told us, or at least me. Besides, he has his life and we have ours. He doesn’t have to explain himself to anyone.’

  ‘I know that,’ she snapped.

  I was not entirely unsympathetic to her viewpoint. I suspected that she was disappointed that he had not confided in her regarding his new love.

  ‘I am sure he would have told you himself once he became used to the idea,’ I said. ‘After all, he probably hasn’t been in love in an age, and it was Domitus who brought up the subject at the council meeting, much to Godarz’s discomfort.’

  ‘Well he should have told me, that is all.’

  I fastened the gate on the stall and looked at her.

  ‘Does he need your approval?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  She frowned deeply. ‘I have better things to do than gossip to you.’

  She didn’t really, but I could tell that she had been stung by Godarz’s secrecy and once her blood was up there was no chance of her seeing sense. She sighed, turned and waved her hand at me.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To see Godarz, of course. I might as well talk to Remus than you for all the sense you are making.’

  With that she was gone. Poor Godarz, an afternoon being interrogated by my wife lay ahead of him. Truth be told the romantic life of my governor fascinated me not at all, however the affairs of powers beyond Dura’s borders did, in this instance an invitation to Palmyra from King Haytham of the Agraci.

  So a few days later I rode from the city with a small escort that included Orodes and fifty horse archers. We headed west and into the territory of the Agraci. They were a tribe of nomads wh
o inhabited the northern part of the Arabian Peninsula; the tribe named the Bedouin populated the southern part. When I had first come to Dura open warfare had existed between my kingdom and the Agraci, but I had made peace with their king and ever since that time our two realms had prospered. The trade caravans passed through Dura on their way west through Agraci territory and then on to Egypt where they sold their precious wares. Of course Haytham charged them for the privilege of travelling through his domain, but in return he guaranteed their safety. He made a profit, they made a profit and everyone was happy, though many in the empire openly criticised Dura and its king for making peace with the accursed Agraci. Lord High General Narses had even boasted that he would rid the earth of the Agraci, but that had been over three years ago and since then neither them or I had seen hide or hair of him.

  We rode at a steady pace, partly to spare the horses in the heat but mostly because the track west was literally heaving with traffic. Camels, mules, donkeys, carts and wagons stretched ahead as far as the eye could see. I smiled to myself. Most of the people on the road were Parthians – when there was money to be made people could always be relied upon to put their differences and prejudices aside.

  Eventually we left the highway and rode parallel to it, a column of riders in white long-sleeved shirts and floppy hats, our helmets swinging from our saddles. Our bows were also hanging from our saddles while our quiver straps were slung over our shoulders. As usual I wore my Roman leather cuirass and the helmet on my saddle was Roman with a white goose feather crest. These items were gifts from a friend and were almost as dear to me as the sword that hung from my belt. This was also Roman, a cavalry sword called a spatha. Brown leggings and leather boots completed my appearance.