‘Greetings, tribune,’ I said. ‘What business do you have in Dura?’
‘I am here on behalf of the proconsul of Syria, Aulus Gabinius.’
I fed Najya another piece of meat. Roscius glanced left and right at the guards armed and attired as Romans. He obviously wanted to enquire why they were equipped thus but his sense of protocol would not allow him to say anything.
‘What business is that?’ I asked.
‘It has come to the proconsul’s attention that there is in your city a Jew by the name of Aaron, son of Jacob, who is wanted for crimes committed against Rome.’
I had always admired the Romans for their organisation and efficiency but now those qualities worked against me. Aaron’s excursion to see Rachel and the subsequent excitement had obviously prompted a thorough investigation by the Romans and had led to them sending the tribune who now stood before me. It was unfortunate for me that it was well known that Aaron, son of Jacob, husband to Rachel, was a Jew who was also Dura’s treasurer. I saw nothing to gain by denying Aaron’s presence.
‘What crimes?’ I asked casually.
‘The murder of several Roman soldiers and a Jewish priest,’ replied Roscius stiffly.
I was going to say that it was in fact I, Domitus and Surena who had killed those individuals but decided against it. Roman officers were not noted for their sense of humour.
‘Roman law does not rule in Dura,’ hissed Gallia.
‘Surely, majesty,’ replied Roscius, ‘the law rules in all civilised lands and the punishment of wrongdoers is the concern of all just rulers.’
I gestured to the steward to take Najya back to her aviary.
Gallia’s lip curled slightly. ‘Whether Roman law is civilised is a topic that could be debated at length, but the affairs of Dura are of no concern to Syria.’
‘It is as my queen says,’ I agreed.
‘Failure to surrender this Jew may be construed in some quarters as an affront to Roman goodwill.’
Gallia laughed. ‘I have seen Roman goodwill, tribune, though I doubt the peoples who have been subjugated by it would term it so. Tell me, tribune, is it an offence for a man to defend his homeland against foreign invaders?’
Roscius’ cheeks coloured as he tried to stay calm. ‘It is an offence to murder Roman soldiers, majesty.’
‘Really?’ sneered Gallia. ‘Then you had better take me back to Syria instead of Aaron for I have slaughtered many more than he has.’
Domitus stifled a laugh and Roscius’ nostrils flared at the insult.
‘Tribune Marcus Roscius,’ I said, ‘it is not my intention to insult Rome or your proconsul. But I will not hand over Aaron, son of Jacob, to you, for to do so would betray the faith he has placed in me. Tell me, do you know of my background and that of my queen?’
‘I know it, majesty,’ he replied, a note of contempt in his voice.
‘Then you must have known that your journey here would be a wasted one. I will not surrender a friend and a faithful servant.’
A thin sneer creased his lips. ‘I had heard that the King of Dura was a friend of slaves.’
‘And a slayer of Romans,’ added Gallia.
Roscius bristled at this. ‘I had also heard that he was a man of honour.’
‘I like to think that he is,’ I replied.
‘That being the case, majesty, can a man of honour harbour a murderer?’
I thought for a moment. ‘All those who answer the call of arms are murderers, tribune. But a man’s honour will not allow him to abandon a friend. You know this.’
He shot a glance at Gallia and then looked at me. ‘And that is your final word on the matter, majesty?’
‘It is.’
He bowed his head begrudgingly to me, then ever so slightly to Gallia and then about-faced and marched from the hall, escorted by his four guards. The doors were closed behind him as he entered the reception hall.
‘The arrogance of the Romans knows no bounds,’ growled Gallia.
‘Neither does their memory when it comes to tracking down their enemies,’ said Domitus.
‘You think they will attack Dura?’ I asked.
‘Not over Aaron, no. But the peace that you brokered with Pompey is effectively over. When that tribune reports back to Syria that you have refused his request to hand over Aaron the proconsul will be looking for the slightest pretext to launch a war against Dura.’
‘We’ve beaten Romans before,’ remarked Gallia unconcerned.
But on the eve of the army preparing to march against Mithridates and Narses the last thing I needed was conflict with the Romans. But now it appeared that such a conflict was a certainty.
Chapter 16
I had little time to dwell on what the Romans would or would not do as the next day a message arrived from my father informing me that he had received word that Khosrou and Musa were rendezvousing with their armies near the city of Dara, approximately a hundred and fifty miles southwest of Khosrou’s capital of Merv. He had also received word from Orodes that Babylonian forces had mustered at Babylon and were now marching north, and that Dura’s army should commence its journey southeast to the rendezvous point at the Euphrates, fifty miles west of Seleucia.
Vast amounts of mutton and beef had been salted for the campaign, the salt ponds that had been established south of Dura along the Euphrates producing the means to cure the meat before it was dried. Marcus had had his hands full for weeks organising the supplies for the campaign. Each individual legionary carried around sixty pounds in weight on his furca – a wooden pole and crossbar – which included his pack, cloak, food bowl, water bottle, entrenching tool and several days’ rations, but most of the legions’ supplies were carried in wagons or on the backs of mules. The soldiers of each legion consumed around eight tonnes of food a day and the legionary animals a further eighteen tons daily.
The daily requirements of the cavalry were even greater and required intricate planning and preparation. Fortunately for Dura, in Strabo I had a man equal to the task notwithstanding his insolence and foul language. Marcus took care of the needs of the legions but it was Strabo who had nurtured the army’s mounted arm – organising the growing of crops for the supply of fodder for the horses, mules and camels, maintaining the corps of veterinaries and farriers and the breeding of horses, camels, mules and oxen. Despite his shabby appearance and irreverent manner he was extremely knowledgeable about the dietary requirements of our livestock. It had been Strabo who had organised the growing of so-called Greek hay on the royal estates and the ancient horse fodder of the Medians, medicago sativa, known to the Romans as alfalfa, one of the best horse foods available. Under his guidance the estates also grew oats, barley and wheat, though not all went to the animals, and clover which was used exclusively for horse fodder.
Every horse in the army consumed around thirty pounds of fodder a day, the camels being able to subsist on a reduced quantity of ten pounds a day (their diet also included dates and fish meat). When the army marched it did so with over six thousand horses and three thousand camels in addition the legions’ mules. The horses alone required eighty tons of fodder a day and the camels thirteen tons a day and Strabo was the individual responsible for making sure they received these amounts. He did and so everyone forgave him his idiosyncrasies, galling though they were at times.
The water consumption of the army was vast but as long as it stayed near a river or other major water source it was not a problem. That is why the Euphrates and Tigris were of such strategic importance and that is why most marches were nearly always conducted along their length. It was so this time as the army commenced its journey south to the rendezvous point. As usual Byrd, Malik and their scouts rode far ahead to ensure our journey was uneventful. I had worried that now Malik was married he would not wish to leave his new wife but he told me that he would not have missed this campaign for anything. Like many he sensed that it was the final showdown between myself and Mithridates and Narses. He also had a personal grudge
against Narses, who had promised to rid the earth of the Agraci people. Gallia thought the same and that is why she was riding beside me with the Amazons behind us – she did not want to miss out on the downfall of Mithridates.
‘It might be our downfall,’ I said, thinking about how I had previously failed to defeat them.
She shook her head. ‘No, this is the final war between you and them. Dobbai told me.’
‘What else did she tell you?’
‘Nothing. She has been unusually withdrawn of late as if something has alarmed her.’
I dismissed the notion. ‘She is probably feeling her age. How old is she, has she ever told you?’
‘Never. But we are all getting old, Pacorus.’
I looked across at her. Her face was still flawless and her eyes were as blue as the clearest skies. ‘Not you, my sweet.’
But she was in a wistful mood. ‘The world turns, Pacorus, even though we do not discern it. Have you noticed that over the years how many of our friends have left us.’
‘Left us?’
She sighed and looked away into the desert on our left. ‘When I first came to Parthia it was in the company of Gafarn, Diana, Nergal and Praxima. Now they are all gone.’
‘Nergal has become a king and Praxima is a queen. Gafarn and Diana are at Hatra. We should be happy for them.’
But she did not hear my words. ‘Godarz as well. All gone.’
‘What is the matter?’
She smiled wanly. ‘I suppose I want the way things were, for us all to be together again.’
‘We will be, at the next gathering of the Companions,’ I said.
‘It is not the same.’
We rode on in silence, babblers and warblers flying high above us as we headed south at a steady pace of twenty miles a day.
On the fifth day out from Dura a courier arrived from the city carrying a message from Aaron that he had received word that Alexander Maccabeus had launched his rebellion against the Romans in Judea. When I told Gallia her spirits rose because it meant that the likelihood of a Roman attack against Dura was now a remote possibility. I took it as a sign that the gods were smiling on Dura and its army. Malik was also delighted because if Judea threw off its chains then the Romans would not pose a threat to Agraci lands. When I told Domitus, however, he was unimpressed.
‘I give the Jews two months before half of them are dead and the other half are wriggling on crosses.’
The next day the army of Hatra linked up with us after marching directly south from my father’s capital. Gallia’s melancholy lifted as we greeted my father and Gafarn and rode alongside them. My father was cheerful and confident, the world-weariness that had possessed him these past few years having been banished by a desire to see affairs in the empire settled once and for all. He had thrown himself into the current venture with all his energy, organising the formation of the alliance of kings in the aftermath of Vata’s wedding, formulating the plan of campaign and now in effect, notwithstanding the election of Orodes as king of kings, becoming the commander-in-chief of all the armies. I was glad that he was for it meant that the King of Hatra, one of the most respected rulers in the empire, had grown tired of the treachery of Mithridates and was now his declared enemy. His old allies, the kingdoms of Babylon, Media and Atropaiene, having also endured the aggression of Mithridates, had joined him and in the north Khosrou and Musa had taken up arms against the false high king. I was pleased above all because the distance and unease that had existed between my father and me had disappeared. We were united in a common cause and stood shoulder to shoulder as father and son once more.
It took ten days to reach the rendezvous point and when we arrived the army of Babylon was already camped inland from the Euphrates. There were surprisingly few tents in the camp, Orodes explaining that he had brought only seven hundred and fifty horsemen: his own bodyguard of two and fifty cataphracts plus five hundred of Babylon’s royal guard. The rest of his army – ten thousand men – were foot soldiers armed with spears and carrying wicker shields. That was all an impoverished Babylon could spare. The horsemen and their squires had tents but the foot soldiers slept out in the open. Domitus established Dura’s camp five miles inland of the river, as usual a great rectangle surrounded by a ditch and earth rampart surmounted by stakes. I invited my father to camp his own army with mine inside our ramparts but he declined, instead establishing Hatra’s army five miles north of the Babylonians. Vistaspa sent his own patrols east towards the Tigris as Byrd and Malik also scouted the area around Seleucia while we waited for the forces of Atrax and Surena to join us.
Their horsemen arrived two days later, those of Surena following a huge banner sporting a silver lion on a red background. Atrax flew the dragon standard of his now dead father. That night my father gave a great open-air feast in honour of the kings, the meat of four slaughtered bulls being served to us by the squires of Hatra’s royal bodyguard. A nice touch I thought. I had also noticed that there was no great pavilion to house the ruler of Babylon, Orodes being content to sleep in a modest-sized campaign tent. Unfortunately there were also no half-naked Babylonian slave girls to dazzle us with their smiles and entice us with their oiled bodies.
‘I left them with my wife and Mardonius at Babylon,’ said Orodes, his fingers dripping with beef fat.
‘I am surprised he did not accompany you, highness,’ I said.
He licked his fingers. ‘Very amusing. The truth is that he can hardly walk without the aid of a stick and so I ordered him to stay in the city and guard Axsen.’
‘Soon your wife will have a new throne to sit on.’ I grinned at him. ‘Highness.’
He frowned. ‘I wish you would stop calling me that.’
‘Why? You will have to get used to it soon enough when you have all those courtiers at Ctesiphon grovelling at your feet and whispering honeyed words in your ears.’
A squire offered us more meat from a silver tray.
‘I intend to get rid of most of them,’ he declared, ‘and have men of integrity and honesty around me.’
‘Good luck with that.’
He looked at me. ‘I do not suppose you would consider becoming lord high general again?’
I nearly choked on my wine. ‘You are right; I would not consider it. What about Nergal? He’s brave and loyal.’
‘But not a great general such as you.’
I laughed. ‘If I was a great general, my friend, we would not be sitting at a wooden bench in the open eating and drinking. We would be at home in the company of our wives as I would have already sent Mithridates and Narses to the underworld.’
‘It was a serious offer.’
I laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘I know that, my friend, but after this campaign is over I want to return to Dura and live out the rest of my days in peace with my family.’
‘You think that is possible?’
I emptied my cup and held it aloft to be refilled. ‘Anything is possible if you desire it enough.’
The next day we marched east towards Seleucia in three great columns. The northern formation comprised the fourteen thousand soldiers and squires of Dura’s army. In the centre rode my father and Hatra’s fifteen hundred cataphracts and ten thousand horse archers, plus Orodes and his seven hundred and fifty horsemen and ten thousand Babylonian foot. The southern column was made up of Atrax and his seven hundred cataphracts and five thousand horse archers and Surena’s eight thousand horse archers. It took two days for the fifty thousand soldiers of this army to cross the strip of desert between the Euphrates and Tigris to reach the walls of Seleucia.
As we approached the city the enemy had made no moves save to shut the gates of Seleucia and line its walls with the garrison. We stayed well out of arrow range as the central column established its camp directly in front of the western gates and Atrax and Surena pitched their forces south of the city along the banks of the Tigris. Dura’s army made camp five miles north of the city adjacent to the river, being careful not to despoil the vill
ages and the surrounding fields, as they were part of the Kingdom of Babylon. Orodes had sent his own horsemen ahead of the army to reassure the villagers that they would suffer no harm at our hands. This was irrelevant to those villages located close to Seleucia itself as they had been attacked and looted during Mithridates’ two campaigns in Babylon, those of their inhabitants who had not been able to flee having been either killed or taken as slaves. The empty, charred remains of these villages stood as mute testimony to the tyranny of Mithridates’ reign.
Seleucia – gateway to the east. The city had been founded nearly two hundred and fifty years ago by Selucus I called Nicator, ‘The Victor’, one of the successors of Alexander of Macedon who had conquered the world. Selucus had gone on to establish the Seleucid Empire and the city named after him had walls that resembled the shape of an eagle with outstretched wings. Towers stood at regular intervals along their length but I knew from my short period as lord high general of the empire that those walls had not been properly maintained. In many places they were crumbling and some of the towers were also in a state of disrepair. The main road through the city ran from the main gatehouse in the western wall directly east to the stone bridge that spanned the Tigris, which was about four hundred yards wide at this point.
Crumbling they may have been, but the walls of Seleucia were tall enough to stop an army from entering the city unhindered and seizing the bridge across the river. The size of the city’s population was around eighty thousand, though many had probably fled east over the Tigris upon hearing of our approach. From what I could remember from my days as lord high general the garrison was around a thousand men, though this number could be augmented in an emergency to five thousand or more, and reinforcements could also be sent from the east bank of the river if need be. In theory Seleucia was very strong and its ability to receive an unending stream of supplies and men across the bridge made it a tough nut to crack. But Seleucia had one major weakness – the walls ended at the river. Because the Tigris is wide and deep at this point Selucus’ engineers had thought it unnecessary to build walls on all four sides of the city. There were thus no city walls running parallel to the Tigris, though the palace that was located in the northern part of the city, near to the harbour, was fully encompassed by its own walls. But then no army could assault Seleucia from the riverside, until tonight.
Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles) Page 57