‘Wait here,’ I hissed at the others then went back to where the camels were sleeping. The fence that surrounded the pen was a makeshift affair of wooden posts hammered into the ground with two horizontal poles slotted into holes in their sides. I pulled out the horizontals in between two posts to create a gap through which a camel could just about squeeze through. I grabbed the bridle of one of the mangy beasts and pulled him forward. He grunted, spat at me and then got to his feet. I led him through the gap in the fence towards where Domitus and the others were crouching. I pulled my spatha and prodded his rump with it whereupon he bellowed and raced forward towards the tent.
As the beast neared the tent he suddenly veered to the right to avoid crashing into it. Immediately several of the guards left their posts and chased after it.
‘Now,’ I shouted and ran across the ground to reach the unguarded side of the pavilion.
Royal pavilions are made from canvas, a durable and waterproof material that is also easy to cut. Domitus and I slashed at it with our swords to create an entry and then we threw ourselves inside into a space packed with musical instruments. I glimpsed a throne on a dais. Outside I could hear shouts and curses as the guards chased after the runaway camel. We moved along the canvas wall to a yellow curtain barring the entrance to the private apartments. I eased it aside slightly to spy behind it. Clutching my sword in one hand I gestured to the others to follow me. We did not have much time now, as the rip in the pavilion’s sidewall would soon be discovered.
I pushed the curtain aside and stepped into a small area that smelt of incense and roasted meat. Ahead were more curtains, these ones blue edged with gold.
At that moment the curtains parted and two male servants appeared dressed in red tunics and baggy blue leggings carrying silver wine jugs. They froze when they saw us – ten filthy, wild men with swords in their hands.
It was at times like this that I thanked Shamash for the wits of Lucius Domitus, for without thinking he raced forward and plunged his gladius into the chest of one of the servants, yanked it free and then slashed it across the throat of the other in a great scything movement that sprayed blood over the luxurious red carpets. He turned, fire in his eyes. ‘Move!’
We ran at the curtains, pushing aside the flimsy linen material to enter the private reception area of the king of kings. Oil lamps were hanging from four parallel lines of tent poles. We saw a large table in the centre and couches at the far end. I could hear moaning and shouts.
The two guards that had allowed the servants to pass through the curtains were the first to die as we burst in. We ran at the other guards who were standing by the poles, each one armed with a short spear with a great burnished blade at its tip. They held hide-covered shields painted white, the motif of an eagle clutching a snake decorating them. These were the élite palace guards of Ctesiphon and they knew how to handle their weapons.
There were a dozen of them in total and after the initial shock of our appearance, during which two more had died on our sword points, they came at us with shields held close to their bodies and spears levelled. One stood before me and jabbed his spear at me, attempting to skewer me on its point. He was as tall as me, broader but very light on his feet, pouncing to and fro and attacking me like a wildcat. He jabbed at me again, thrusting the spear point at my chest. I brought my sword arm up and across my body and then slashed it down, the metal cutting through the spear shaft and severing the head. He threw the broken shaft at me and attempted to draw his own sword. But I was too fast for him, thrusting my sword forward at his chest. His reflexes were also quick and he managed to stop the blow with his shield. In the instant when the point went into the hide and wood underneath I pulled my dagger from its sheath and rammed it hard into his face, the point going through his right eye socket. I withdraw it and yanked my sword free as he slumped to the floor. I ran forward as one of my men was impaled on an enemy spear in front of me. As he fell I ran his killer through with my sword.
I looked round and saw Thumelicus finishing off the last surviving guard with ease, dumfounding him with a series of lightning-fast sword attacks that finished with his gladius slicing deep into the man’s belly. I nodded to him and he returned the gesture. We had lost two dead but had at last found our prey.
I ran forward and ripped aside one of the two silk curtains barring the entrance to the bedroom of the king of kings, the ruler of the mighty Parthian Empire. And stopped dead in my tracks. Standing ahead, naked and sweating profusely, was Mithridates. I say standing but I could not properly tell since he was behind a naked slave girl down on all fours. He was holding her long hair tightly as he rammed his manhood hard into her from behind. He was obviously performing an unnatural act upon her young body as her face was contorted with pain and tears were running down her cheeks. Two young men, both oiled and naked, were kneeling either side of Mithridates, one of whom was licking his chest. All around naked couples were writhing in ecstasy on the plush carpets covering the floor and on the giant circular bed. And then the screaming started.
While I stared in disbelief at the orgy before my eye, Domitus raced forward tripping over one of the couples on the floor. Both young boys started to screech at this dirt-encrusted demon sprawling onto the floor beside them. Domitus sprang to his feet and slit both their throats without further ado. The room erupted in screams and wails as teenage boys and girls, all naked, ran around as though they were demented. Mithridates stopped his act of depravity and for a few seconds stared at me in disbelief, unable to comprehend that anyone, not least his greatest enemy, would dare to violate his inner sanctum.
Whistles blew behind us and I knew that the game was up. More soldiers were coming to save their king.
‘Kill the bastard,’ screamed Domitus.
Thumelicus hurled one of the dead guards’ spears at Mithridates, but he grabbed the long hair of one of the boy lovers next to him and thrust his young body in front of his. The spear blade went clean through the youth’s chest, killing him instantly. One of the girls, completely naked and completely hairless, sprang at Domitus like a demon from hell, scratching at his eyes and shrieking as she did so. He head-butted her and split her nose, causing her to collapse on the floor. Another of my men tried to spear Mithridates but he was again too quick and threw himself to the floor. The young girl he had been violating, still on her knees, looked up as the spear went through her mouth and out through the base of her skull.
I heard screams behind me and saw two of my men being run through by enemy spearmen.
‘Time to go,’ shouted Domitus.
We ran across the bedroom and slashed at the silk drapes behind the bed as more soldiers flooded into the room.
‘Kill them, kill them all,’ screamed Mithridates, standing naked with two dead bodies at his feet.
Fortunately the hysterical boys and girls were still behaving like possessed beings and got in the way of the guards chasing after us. Six of us cut our way out to exit the rear of the pavilion.
Mithridates was screaming at us as we left. ‘You are dead, filth. You hear me. Either tonight or tomorrow all of you will be dead. And then I will raze that rat-hole Dura to the ground. You are dead, Pacorus, and so is your whore wife and your children. Kill them!’
We killed the guards standing outside the part of the pavilion side we had cut through and then skirted the camel pen before heading north back to camp. Whistles, shouts and horns were now sounding the alarm and causing hundreds of men to rush to their assembly points. Horses whinnied and camels grunted as we threaded our way through the gathering throng. The general chaos was to our advantage because in the dark we were just another group of bleary-eyed soldiers endeavouring to form up.
The guards who had come to the aid of Mithridates were still on our heels however, and as we left the perimeter of the camp I glanced behind to see at least a score of them coming after us. The two men we had left at the perimeter saw us coming and prepared to face our pursuers.
‘Get back to
camp,’ I screamed at them. There was no need for them to die this night. They did as they were ordered.
The sentries to our right and left saw what was happening and responded to the orders being yelled at them by our pursuers and headed in our direction, hoping to cut us off. Two were running at us from the right and another two from the left, and then I heard a hissing sound in my right ear, then another. Arrows!
We were beyond the camp’s furthest sentry line now and I could see the glow of our own braziers ahead. Arrows whistled past me and others hit the ground with a phut. Then I heard a shriek and turned to see one of my men tumbling to the ground. I stopped immediately and went to his assistance. Domitus also halted and came to my side. The man had an arrow in his hamstring. We were now around a hundred paces or so from our own camp and I could see the sentries standing and pointing at us. I put my left arm around the wounded man’s back and heaved him onto his feet. Arrows felled another two of my men as they turned and came to stand by Domitus and me. Then the enemy archers stopped their shooting for fear of hitting their own men as they bore down on us from three directions. I had to drop the wounded man as we prepared to receive their attack.
I heard grunts and saw the sentries on our flanks pitch forward onto the ground, and then saw more enemy soldiers to our front fall as arrows hit them. I turned to see two centuries running towards us.
‘Are you going to stand there gawping or are you going to get behind us?’ the voice of Drenis bellowed at us.
‘Back,’ I shouted. Thumelicus and I helped the wounded man to his feet once more and then we fled as the centuries parted and then closed behind us. Their shields then locked to form a wall and roof of wood and leather. We crouched behind the last rank as Drenis came to our side. Behind us the hundred archers who had stayed with the legions walked back to camp.
‘Very thoughtful of you, Drenis’ said Domitus calmly, ‘to organise a reception party.’
Drenis winked at me. ‘I knew you would stir up a hornets’ nest. Do you want us to finish them off?’
‘No,’ I replied. ‘Let’s get back to camp.’
‘Fall back! Fall back!’ shouted Drenis and he and his men inched their way rearwards.
A few arrows thudded into our shields but the enemy, now greatly outnumbered, lost heart and trudged back to their naked king.
When we reached the safety of our lines a crowd quickly gathered round us, eager for news. Domitus wasted no time in telling how we had reached the sleeping quarters of Mithridates.
‘Not that he was doing much sleeping. He was humping everything in sight. Pacorus was worried that he might pounce on him, you should have seen the fear in his eyes.’
Riotous laughter. Drenis handed him a water bottle to slake his thirst, then Domitus continued.
‘I’ve never seen so much naked flesh and Mithridates was using his pork lance to spear it all.’
He put an arm round my shoulder. ‘He must have thought Pacorus was another pretty young boy come to satisfy his needs.’
Wild cheering.
I raised my arms to still the commotion. ‘Thank you, Domitus, for your most graphic account of the raid. Unfortunately Mithridates still lives and will send everything he has against us later today.’
‘Let’s hope he remembers to get dressed before he does,’ shouted Thumelicus. More cheering and laughter.
I smiled. Their morale was still high despite us being many miles from home, almost out of water and surrounded and outnumbered by the enemy. I looked to the east and saw the first shards of light on the horizon. Dawn would be breaking soon. There would be no time for any rest or sleep now. Domitus dismissed the men and Alcaeus attended to the wounded man we had brought back. The wagons that he had commandeered for the injured were grouped in the southeast corner of the camp. Those men who were too sick to walk had been carried in them under protective wooden roofs. At night they were moved to tents that they shared with the walking wounded. Despite the care of his medical staff a few had succumbed to their wounds and Alcaeus feared that with each passing day more would die.
‘I have lost fifty thus far and another ten or so won’t see tomorrow’s dawn.’
‘What about the man we brought back tonight?’ I asked.
‘He’ll live. I gave him some sarpagandha to make him drowsy and I extracted the arrow and bound the wound.’
As the dim pre-dawn light began to engulf the camp Alcaeus yawned and stretched his aching limbs. Like all of us he was unshaven and had black rings round his eyes. His tunic, usually immaculately white, was torn and smeared with blood.
‘So,’ he asked me, ‘how do you rate our chances?’
‘Well, if Malik has reached Hatran territory then he would have sent a message to Dura and hopefully the lords will come. If Byrd got to Babylon safely then perhaps Vardan will send troops to aid us. And if Babylon has been alerted then Nergal at Uruk will not abandon us.’
He had a bemused look on his face. ‘That’s a lot of ifs.’
I slapped him on the arm. ‘You should have more faith, Alcaeus.’
‘I use to pray to Zeus every day when I was young, asking him to protect my parents and my city. But my parents were killed and the Romans enslaved me and I stopped asking the gods for anything. I’m not sure they even exist.’
‘Of course they exist, Alcaeus. How else can you explain all that has happened to us, of our time in Italy and our journey back to Parthia? Then making Dura strong? There must be divine guidance involved.’
He smiled at me. ‘Or it could be that you are a great warlord who has done all these things on your own. But if it comforts you to believe that there is a god smiling down on you, then that is good.’
He suddenly looked very serious. ‘In case the opportunity does not arrive later, I want to thank you, Pacorus, for my time in Dura. It has been a privilege to be your friend.’
I had the feeling that he was saying goodbye. ‘None of that, Alcaeus, we are not dead yet.’
He looked around at the tents where the wounded were sleeping and the wagons standing ready to carry the seriously hurt. The sun was beginning its ascent in the eastern sky. The new day was dawning.
‘You know what gives this army strength, Pacorus?’
‘Ten thousand foot and four thousand horse?’ I replied.
He shook his head. ‘No. It’s pride. Every man is proud to be a part of your army. Numbers are irrelevant. Each man stands tall in the ranks beside his comrades, knowing that you will never be careless with his life, will never ask him to do what you yourself would not attempt. That is why this army is strong, because you treat your soldiers like men, not slaves. They are proud to serve in Dura’s army.’
‘Well, then, we have nothing to worry about. You said it yourself – numbers are irrelevant.’
A wry smile crept over his face. ‘Even men of iron need water, Pacorus.’
He offered me his hand and we clasped each other’s forearm.
‘They will not break us, Alcaeus. I swear it.’
But they tried. An hour later the enemy attacked us on all sides. First they sent in their horse archers, who once again rained arrows down on us. Yet again they did not shoot at the ring of shields but instead loosed their missiles in a high trajectory that fell behind the cohorts. And once again they slaughtered dozens of mules, the animals crying pitifully after they had been hit. We could do nothing but stand and listen to their squeals and moans. After a while the horse archers mercifully withdrew and a lull descended over the battlefield.
I was kneeling with the other archers in the rear of the cohorts deployed on the southern edge of our hollow square, holding a shield over my head. Its top edge was tucked under the shield of the man in front of me. Trumpets blasted to order the men to stand easy and a great clatter signalled thousands of men resting their shields on the ground. They had had their meagre ration of water earlier and there was none to spare until they wet their lips in the evening. Those that lived.
Domitus and Krono
s came over to where I was standing, my shield lying on the ground. Domitus pointed at it.
‘Please pick it up and rest it against your body. It has just saved your life so treat it with some respect.’
I felt myself blushing as I bent down and did as I was told, resting the edge against my body. Around me other legionaries were nudging each other and grinning at my being rebuked.
‘That was short and sweet,’ said Domitus.
‘Yesterday they spent hours showering us with the bloody things,’ added Kronos, freezing the grinning soldiers with his iron stare. They quickly faced front.
I slammed the rim of my shield with my palm. ‘They’ve run out of arrows.’
‘What?’ Domitus was most surprised.
‘They have run out of arrows. That is the only reason they have pulled back the horse archers.’
In Dura’s army a great camel train carrying tens of thousands of spare arrows always accompanied the horse archers. But most Parthian armies save my own and Hatra’s did not bother to supply its archers with spare ammunition. After all the main striking power of an army was its cataphracts. The role of the horse archers was to weaken the enemy before the heavy horsemen attacked.
‘They will send in their heavy horsemen next,’ I said. ‘If they had not run out of arrows then they would have spent more time softening us up.’
‘There aren’t enough arrows in the world to soften up my boys,’ growled Domitus, prompting Kronos to smile in approval.
Their little mutual admiration society was interrupted by the sound of kettledrums to the south. Trumpets blasted and once again the legionaries dressed their ranks and stood facing outwards. With Domitus and Kronos I pushed my way through the ranks to see what was happening. Men were twisting arrows from their shields and the ground in front of the first rank was littered with missiles. I peered ahead and in the early morning light saw the horizon filled with horsemen riding knee to knee. Cataphracts!
Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles) Page 16