Authors: Peter Darman
As we stood on the battlements, a procession of wagons ferried the captured Roman arms and armour into the city and transported them to the armoury. Our victory had reaped a rich harvest, though I did not envy the parties that had been selected by drawing lots to scour the battlefield, collecting weapons, stripping the dead and digging arrowheads out of flesh. Iron and steel were too valuable to throw away.
That afternoon I sat in the throne room and heard the reports of Nergal and Domitus. Gallia and Orodes were sitting either side of me, while Byrd and Malik stood to one side and the lords were assembled in front of me.
Domitus’ arm was heavily bandaged but he looked in good spirits despite his wound. ‘The legion lost two hundred dead and another two hundred wounded, of which around fifty give or take will probably die.’
‘And the men of Pontus?’ I asked.
‘They suffered more than your legion. Five hundred dead and another four hundred wounded. They got well and truly mauled.’
I looked at Nergal.
‘We lost only a hundred horse archers and fifty horses. The lords likewise suffered only light casualties. Of your cataphracts, twenty-two are dead.’
‘And a similar number of mine were also slain,’ added Orodes.
‘Your loss will be recompensed, lord prince,’ I said.
He grinned at me. ‘They died fighting for a worthy cause, my friend, that is payment enough.’
‘How many Romans do we hold?’ I asked.
‘Near ten thousand,’ replied Domitus.
‘And their engineers have been separated from the rest?’
He nodded.
‘What losses did the Romans suffer?’ asked Rsan.
Domitus rubbed his injured arm. ‘We burned around eight thousand bodies; the rest must have tried to escape into the river. Most probably drowned in the water.’
I waved Malik over. ‘Your father is a man of honour, Malik. While other kings did nothing to help Dura, his son fought beside me and he sent troops to protect my wife and child.’
‘It is an honour to serve you, Pacorus.’ The others shouted in agreement.
‘And he will be rewarded, Malik. The Roman captives are to be sold as slaves. They will be transported to Palmyra where King Haytham, your father, will arrange for their sale in Egypt and Africa, or wherever else he can sell them. If he is in agreement, I will share the profits of their sale evenly with him.’
‘You are most generous, Pacorus,’ said Malik.
‘You told them that they would be allowed to walk out of here,’ said Domitus.
‘And I keep my word, Domitus.’
‘You inferred that they would be given their lives.’
‘And so they will be. I said nothing of their freedom.’
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing more on the matter.
I had to admit it was a generous offer. Ten thousand slaves would fetch a high price.
‘I must protest, majesty,’ said Rsan, clearly unhappy. ‘Your treasury needs replenishing. The absence of trade has greatly diminished its reserves.’
‘The reopening of trade will replenish it soon enough, Rsan. My decision is final. Nergal, we will rest for two days and then you and I will ride to Hatra to aid my father.’
‘I will come with you,’ said Orodes.
‘Should you not return to Susa?’
‘I prefer the company here.’
The next day, as long lines of Roman captives began their journey to Haytham’s kingdom and a life of servitude, I addressed the Roman engineers gathered in a group next to their old camp, nearly a hundred of them. I pointed at their comrades being escorted into the desert.
‘Those men are going to be sold as slaves, for that is the price of invading my kingdom.’
Their faces were downcast as they stood before me, three score of horse archers standing guard behind with arrows nocked in their bowstrings.
‘But you have a chance to earn your freedom.’ A few looked up at this, their curiosity aroused.
‘You men know how to operate the siege engines that were used against my city. I should, by rights, cut off your right hands for such an offence.’
Alarm swept across their faces.
‘However,’ I continued, ‘I have decided to be generous. I make you this offer: serve my army and work your machines for one campaign and I will set you free afterwards. I will even give you an escort back to Roman territory should you so desire.’
One man at the front of the group, who resembled Domitus with his hard visage, if not his wiry frame, spoke. ‘And if we refuse?’
I jerked my head at the prisoners filing behind them. ‘Then you are free to join your comrades. You have one hour to decide.’
None refused my offer.
Riders were sent to the city’s population to announce that it was now safe for them return to their homes, and the pontoon bridge was reassembled across the river to expedite their journey. Couriers were also sent to the representatives of the merchants throughout the empire, informing them that the trade route through Dura to Egypt and beyond was once again open. My mood was lifted somewhat when news reached the city that my father had turned back the Romans who had invaded his kingdom. I informed the others of this news at the first council meeting held after the relief of Dura.
‘I will ride to Hatra to see if Dura can lend any help to my father,’ I said.
‘You can forget about taking the legion or those from Pontus who still live,’ growled Domitus, his bandaged arm still obviously causing him discomfort. ‘The boys are spent and there’s much work to do repairing their armour and weapons. The last fight was a hard one and I want them fully recuperated before they go marching off to god knows where.’
‘I realise that, Domitus,’ I replied, ‘I shall take only horsemen with me, and only a score.’
‘That few?’ queried Gallia.
‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘Hatra’s army is much larger than ours, and with the Romans retreating there is little point in burdening my father with feeding hundreds of horses and men.’
‘Speaking of which,’ added Godarz. ‘How long are the lords and their followers staying here? They are eating up all our supplies.’
‘Now that we have beaten the Romans,’ added Nergal, ‘it would be sensible to let them return to their homes.’
‘Agreed,’ said Rsan, ‘otherwise the cost will be ruinous.’
‘Very well,’ I said, ‘I shall instruct them to return home. But your treasury will be more than full, Rsan, once Haytham has finalised the sale of the Roman prisoners.’
‘What use is a full treasury if there are no soldiers to protect it,’ mumbled Domitus.
He sat across the table from me with a face like thunder, his eyes cast down.
‘What
is
the matter, Domitus?’ I asked.
‘Gallia told me what Furius said to you.’
I looked at my wife in annoyance. She merely shrugged with disinterest. ‘Did she? Well she should not have.’
‘Why? They have a right to know. Tell them.’ She stared at me defiantly.
‘Very well. Before he died Furius informed me that Phraates,’ I shot a glance at Orodes, whose face betrayed no emotion, ‘had agreed to cede Dura to the Romans in exchange for their evacuation of Gordyene.’
There were gasps around the table. I held up my hands. ‘We do not know if he spoke the truth; he was probably lying.’
‘And maybe he wasn’t,’ spat Domitus, looking up at me.
‘We know that Crassus financed the expedition against Dura,’ said Godarz, rubbing a hand across his scalp, ‘and we know that Dura is becoming rich on the back of the trade between east and west. I would say that Crassus, if not the republic, sees Dura as a jewel that he wants in his crown.’
Rsan was looking decidedly nervous. ‘Surely the King of Kings does not wish to see his empire weakened.’
‘He has no choice,’ said Domitus. ‘The recent civil war has sapped his strength. He has already lost Gordyene, and Media and Atropaiene have both been weakened. The defeat at Dura has been a setback for Rome, but only that.’
No one said anything for a while and the silence became oppressive. Rsan fidgeted nervously and Domitus went back to staring down at the table, rubbing his arm as he did so. At length I spoke.
‘I say again, we do not know for certain that what Furius said is true. Therefore I will still ride to Hatra while the army stays at Dura.’
I turned to Orodes. ‘I would like you to accompany me to Hatra.’
‘Of course,’ he replied.
I left the next day, taking Orodes and a score of Nergal’s horse archers. As far as I knew Babylon was still under siege, though as Parthian kings had no knowledge of siege warfare or engines with which to reduce walls, I felt sure that the city had not fallen to Narses and the rabble of Mesene. Once I had seen for myself that Hatra was safe, I would take the army east and relieve Vardan. The journey to Hatra was uneventful and the city itself had been untouched by war as far as I could tell, the gates being open and caravans still travelling on the roads to and from the city. We entered the city through the northern gates and I went straight to see my father. Beyond the city walls to the west was a great collection of tents and many horsemen milling round. I assumed that my father had raised a general muster of the whole kingdom so great was the multitude assembled.
Orodes walked with me through the palace and into the throne room where my father was sitting listening to grievances concerning land disputes, dowries and a host of other civil problems that have plagued kings since the dawn of time. Stewards and other officials were attending him, Assur standing on one side of the dais and Kogan on the other. Two old men were standing in front of him, each one holding several scrolls, and one was gesticulating with his free hand. My father looked bored to death. His face lit up when he saw me, and he immediately stood and clapped his hands to announce that proceedings were at an end.
‘But highness,’ implored one of the plaintiffs, ‘my neighbour has clearly violated the city’s ordinances by building his wall at twice the stipulated height.’
‘I would not have had to build it so high were it not for the lewd goings-on that accompany your banquets. My wife and I have no wish to see such depravity.’
‘Depravity? How dare you. If I was thirty years younger.’
They began to square up to each other. I smiled. Each must have been in his late sixties. ‘Enough!’ bellowed my father, causing them both to freeze and one to drop his scrolls.
‘I will decide on this matter next week. The meeting is ended.’
He pointed at Kogan, who ordered his guards to usher everyone out of the room.
I embraced my father. ‘We heard about your victory,’ he said. ‘Well done.’
‘And your news?’
He smiled. ‘We have sent the Romans scuttling back to where they came from. Your mother will be delighted that you are here.’ He released me and turned to Orodes. ‘Greetings, Prince Orodes, welcome to Hatra.’
Orodes bowed his head. ‘It is an honour to be at your court, majesty.’
‘Hail King Pacorus, destroyer of Parthia’s enemies.’
I recognised the voice but thought that my ears were playing tricks on me. They were not. I turned round to see Narses standing in Hatra’s throne room. Narses, the man who had promised that my head would adorn Uruk’s walls. Narses the traitor. Narses the liar and thief. He must have been skulking in the shadows along one of the walls when I entered. I blinked in astonishment. He smiled at me as though we were long-lost friends. The large iron-studded doors were closed shut and Kogan returned to stand by the two thrones. Orodes stood speechless.
‘King Narses brought his army to assist Hatra, Pacorus,’ said my father. ‘We have decided to put aside our differences for the sake of the empire’s welfare.’
‘After all,’ said Narses smugly, ‘we
are
all Parthians.’
A deep-thinking man, a philosopher or accomplished politician, would have taken time to compose an appropriate response to this effrontery, but I was not such a man. I strode over to Narses and struck him hard across the face with the back of my hand. The King of Persis is a tall, well-built individual, but he was not expecting such a response and I hit him with such force that he was sent sprawling across the floor. Without thinking I drew my sword and took a step towards the prostrate Narses, who was slowly picking himself up. I smiled; I had no objection to killing him here. I stopped when I felt the point of a blade at my throat.
‘What, in the name of all that’s decent, are you doing?’ It was my father’s sword at my flesh.
Narses staggered to his feet, his nose was bleeding. His eyes flashed hatred but then, remembering where he was, his expression softened.
‘You dare to draw your sword in my palace,’ said my father, ‘against my guest?’
‘You would not accord him that status if you knew his true intentions,’ I snarled.
‘Put away your sword,’ ordered my father.
‘I will not,’ I replied.
At that moment my mother appeared, accompanied by Gafarn and Diana. They were shocked at the scene before their eyes. My mother rushed over and placed herself between my father and myself.
‘Varaz, what are you doing?’
‘Pacorus struck our guest.’
‘Not hard enough by the look of him,’ remarked Gafarn.
‘Silence!’ shouted my father. ‘Hold your tongue, Gafarn.’
My mother looked at me. ‘Pacorus, put away your sword. I will not have such scenes in my home.’
My will weakened in her presence and I slid the
spatha
back into its scabbard. My father did likewise and then held out his hand. Orodes stared in disbelief at me, while Narses, having composed himself, was now standing to one side with his arms folded and a self-righteous expression on his bruised face.
‘Surrender your sword.’
I was mortified. ‘This sword was given to me by a friend, one who knew the meaning of honour and loyalty.’ I jerked my head towards Narses, whose bleeding nose was being attended to by a servant. ‘Unlike him.’
‘Very well,’ said my father. ‘Lord Kogan, have my son escorted to his chambers. He will remain there until he has learned some manners.’
‘There is no need, King Varaz,’ said Narses, ‘I do not wish to come between father and son.’
‘There is every need, King Narses,’ remarked my father. ‘Kings do not act like thieves and beggars.’