Parthian Dawn (57 page)

It was a three-hour ride from the camp to the capital, a journey across empty steppe land, past fast-flowing streams and through steep-sided valleys covered in trees. Eventually we reached Vanadzor itself, nestled in a narrow valley and straddling the river of the same name. Atrax had told me that the city had originally been a small settlement on the west bank of the river, no more than a collection of wooden huts protected by a stake fence, but in time the wood had been replaced by stone as trade with Armenia and its southern neighbours had brought a degree of prosperity to the kingdom. That had been over a hundred years ago. Now the city looked sad and forlorn, with crumbling walls and no King Balas to sit in its palace. After his defeat and death the Romans had just walked into the city and occupied it without a fight.

On the plain there were some travellers on the wide track that followed the course of the river north to the city gates, two hauling a small cart loaded with animal pelts, another bowed down with a large sack on his back. Two squat towers flanked the gates. We halted to take stock under some trees by the side of the track where the valley narrowed, around a mile from the city itself. The air was damp and the sky grey, with the tops of the hills wreathed in mist. Balas’ old capital looked a miserable place indeed.

We followed the track that hugged the eastern riverbank and then crossed a wooden bridge over the river itself. The waterway was not wide at this point, around forty feet or so, but the water was dark and fast flowing. Then we headed towards the city’s main entrance, once again following the course of the river. The gates were open, though aside from two guards standing sentry I saw no other signs of life. Then I spotted two helmets on the walls either side of the gates, then more as legionaries came out of the towers to peer at the three mystery horsemen approaching. We trotted on until we were around three hundred paces from the gates, the walls above now crowded with around a score of Roman soldiers all staring at us. I nudged Remus forward a few paces and then stopped. I spread out my arms.

‘Romans,’ I shouted at the top of my voice. ‘My name is Pacorus, King of Dura, and I order you to leave the city you now occupy and return to Italy.’

Nothing happened, aside from a few legionaries looking at each other in bewilderment. The two sentries turned to face us and instinctively lifted their shields to protect their left sides. I drummed my fingers on my saddle. After a few moments a burly centurion appeared at the gates, instantly recognisable by the transverse crest on his helmet, and began to stride towards us. The sentries followed him.

‘Surena,’ I said. ‘Do you think you can drop the big fellow in front with the fancy crest?’

He gave no answer, but seconds later I heard a twang and saw the arrow fly through the air, to hit the centurion in the centre of his chest. He immediately doubled over and fell to the ground. I pulled my bow from its case, strung an arrow and released the bowstring. One of the sentries had dropped his javelin and was bending down, trying to assist the centurion. My arrow went into his shoulder and he crumpled onto the ground. Surena shot another arrow that hit the remaining sentry in the thigh, who screamed and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his wound. I rode forward and shot three more arrows at the men standing on the walls, my arrows clattering off the stone, then I heard a great clamour as they raised the alarm. More Roman soldiers ran from the city and formed a line of locked shields in front of us, those behind using their shields to form a roof as protection against falling arrows.

I turned in the saddle. ‘Vagharsh, time for you to leave.’

He nodded and then wheeled away, galloping back towards the bridge, my griffin banner fluttering beside him. Surena came to my side.

‘Should not we be leaving, too?’

‘Not yet. It’s time to see if you have been keeping up with your training rather than pestering young Viper.’

He was indignant. ‘I wasn’t pestering her. She likes me.’

‘I doubt that.’

‘I was wondering if you could put in a word for me.’

I transferred my eyes from the Roman
testudo
to Surena. ‘What?’

‘She is in the queen’s bodyguard.’

‘What of it?’

‘Well, you must know her personally.’

I shook my head. ‘This may come as a surprise to you, Surena, but I do not know every person who is in Dura’s army. Even if I did know her, it is not my task in life to provide you with young girls.’

I heard a blast of horns and seconds later horsemen thundered out from the city, a column of Roman spearmen in two files heading straight for us.

We turned tail and galloped back towards the bridge with the Romans hard on our heels, then raced across the aged wooden beams onto the eastern side of the river. Moments later the enemy thundered across the bridge and then swung right to catch us. I leaned forward and urged Remus on, Surena beside me. There was no bravado on his face now as he continually glanced behind him at the enemy horsemen straining every fibre to catch us. We galloped along the track, the edge of the forest a green blur as we made our escape. There were trees on either side of us as we followed the course of the river south through the valley. The Romans were still chasing us as we rounded a bend in the track and came to a fork in the road, taking the track that veered to the left that led away from the river. We headed into the forest, the Romans at the head of their column screaming at us to halt. Then I heard another sound, a series of whooshing noises followed by screams and the shrieks of wounded and rearing horses. I slowed Remus and looked behind, to see a heap of riders and their horses on the track. My men had positioned themselves at the edge of the tree line, giving them an uninterrupted field of fire. They loosed their arrows as soon as the Romans came within range, pouring a devastating volley at the head of the column. There was no need to shoot at the middle or rear of the group — disable the head and the body will crumble. As arrows hit the first files, horses lost their footing and fell to the ground and those following collided into them. Those further back tried to veer left and right or halt, but their momentum was such that though their horses came to a sudden stop the riders were catapulted forward from their saddles. The rear of the column managed to slow their horses and avoid the mounds of men and horses to their front, but as they slowed they came under a withering arrow fire from my men in the trees. Arrow after arrow came from the forest, each one finding a fleshy target. Some of the Romans tried to turn and flee, but my men lined the track for half a mile and there was no escape. And then, where there had been shrieks, squeals and shouts, the only sounds were the low moans of the wounded.

Riderless horses scattered as my men walked their mounts out of the trees. Romans that had been thrown from their horses staggered to the feet, dazed and confused, only to be felled by one or more arrows. Some raised their arms and endeavoured to give themselves up but there was no pity shown to the enemy this day. When all had been dropped, I pointed at Surena.

‘Make yourself useful.’

He nodded, jumped from his horse and went among the enemy. Others of my men did the same, all the time covered by the bows of their comrades. Slitting the throats of a disabled adversary is not a pleasant business, but wounded men can recover to fight another day. A handful of Romans had feigned death, hoping that they would go unnoticed. But not today. While this necessary measure was being carried out Orodes and Atrax rode over to me.

‘That was easy enough,’ said Orodes.

‘The next part will take longer,’ I replied.

‘You ride back to the city?’ enquired Atrax.

‘I do indeed, brother. This time perhaps you two would like to accompany me.’

And so the three of us rode back to the gates of Vanadzor, this time with a hundred riders behind us. We did so at a gentle pace; there was no point in tiring the horses unnecessarily. This time the banner of Susa fluttered beside my own. Atrax has wanted to fly Media’s standard in Gordyene but his father had forbidden him to do so. Farhad clearly feared the Romans, but I did not tell his son this. We arrived once more at the gates, which were now slammed shut. I told the others to keep well out of bow range as I once more goaded the enemy.

‘Romans,’ I hollered. ‘Were those horsemen the best you could offer? Their blood now fertilises the earth. Surrender now and save your skins, for to fight further is to invite death.’

I saw no movement on the towers or walls, and so after a few minutes waiting I returned to the men.

‘Why don’t they attack us?’ Atrax was plainly itching for another fight.

I shrugged. ‘They will come in their own time. I suggest we withdraw and get some food inside us.’

‘I want to insult them.’ Atrax made to ride forward but I reached over and laid a hand on his arm.

‘No Atrax, we have done enough.’ His face was a mask of disappointment but I did not want him to get shot for the sake of mere bravado.

We camped five miles south of the city in the forest, though I made sure that I had sentries posted all around. There were other gates out of the city, and just because the Romans had not shown themselves at the southern entrance did not mean that they would not send soldiers from another gate to sweep around our rear and catch us unawares.

After two hours Byrd and Malik rode to where we were camped, our horses tethered to branches and their saddles dumped on the ground. Parties had been sent to the river to fetch water for them, and while we waited for the enemy we checked their iron shoes and groomed them.

‘Romani marching out of city,’ said Byrd.

I was standing in front of Remus holding a waterskin to his mouth. ‘How many?’

‘At least two thousand legionaries, plus light troops and more horsemen.’

I gave the order to reform and the sound of horns filled the forest as the companies were assembled. I called their commanders together and they stood in a semi-circle around me.

‘Our plan is simple. We goad the Romans, annoy them, and then fall back. We wear them down.’

‘We could surprise them, attack from the trees, like we did with the last ones,’ suggested one of my officers.

‘No, they outnumber us and there is no point in charging legionaries. You might kill a few, but once we get close to their locked shields we will ride into a hail of javelins.’

‘What about their horsemen, Pacorus?’ asked Orodes.

‘We can kill them. They will be acting as scouts and riding ahead of the foot. Kill them with arrows. But remember that our aim is to lure the Romans further away from the city.’

‘To what end?’ queried Atrax.

‘Attrition, lord prince. Grind them down, just like the Romans like to grind down their enemies.’

And so it was. We saddled our horses and then rode south, letting the enemy horsemen see us but always keeping a safe distance between them and us. The road we were on led south to Media, but after an hour we left it and made our way back to the camp we had constructed among the trees. As we moved we left small parties of riders, half companies, in the trees either side of the track we travelled along. These men would ambush the Roman cavalry, empty a few saddles and then gallop way. Once they had recovered the enemy cavalry would give chase, only to run into another ambush set further along the track. I took part in these ambushes, as did Surena, Atrax and Orodes, and they were immense fun. We would wait in the forest some hundred paces from the tree line, so anyone on the track would see only darkness if they stared into the trees. Once the enemy horsemen appeared we would shoot at the front and rear of the group, which would sow confusion and terror, then we could pick off those in the middle as men tried to calm their frightened horses. Then we would ride away through the trees, leaving the survivors to deploy against an enemy that was no longer there.

By dusk the Roman cavalry no longer pursued us. We had killed most of them and the rest had retreated to take refuge with the foot. The latter had been under the observation of Byrd and Malik, who rode into our camp after dark, having dismounted at the edge of the forest adjoining the wide steppe where the Romans had built their camp. I forbade the lighting of any fires lest they give our position away, even though we were deep in the forest. It therefore took Byrd and Malik some time to weave their way in the dark through the traps that had been laid among the trees. Eventually they found their way to my tent where Orodes, Surena and Atrax were sitting on the ground eating biscuits washed down with water.

‘There must be four thousand Romans in that camp,’ said Malik, flopping down on the hard earth.

‘Tomorrow we will entice them into the trees,’ I said, ‘but tonight perhaps we might ruffle their feathers.’

‘Ruffle their feathers?’ asked Byrd.

‘Why not? Get close to their camp and kill a few sentries. Keep them all on edge.’

Byrd was unimpressed. ‘Romani camp in middle of grassland. Uninterrupted view in all directions.’

‘We’ll just have to crawl, then.’

Two hours later I was impersonating a snake as I crawled on my belly towards the enemy camp. Like all Roman camps it was a neat rectangle surrounded by an earth mound that was surmounted by a palisade of stakes. Inside the legionaries slept eight to a tent, the latter arranged in neat rows and blocks. The night was overcast; if there had been moonlight we would not have attempted our raid because any sentry would have had a clear view of the illuminated steppe. With me were Orodes, Surena and Atrax. Farhad’s son has immediately volunteered to come with us and I had initially refused his offer, but he had made such a protest that I changed my mind just to shut him up. In truth I regretted that he had come on this expedition, not least because I did not want anything to befall him. On the other hand he was brave and loyal, two qualities that seemed to be in short supply in Parthia at present.

Before we left camp I had borrowed a dark brown shirt to wear instead of my white tunic, and we all left our helmets behind. So we crawled for at least an hour across the steppe, inching closer to the Roman camp that was illuminated by the lighted oil lamps and braziers within. We carried no swords, axes or maces, only daggers attached to our belts, full quivers and our bows. No one spoke as we shuffled in a line towards our target. It was a miserable night: cold, damp, the air filled with spits of rain carried on a cool northerly wind. Hopefully the Roman guards would be wrapped in their cloaks with their heads down. On we crawled. I could hear muffled noises now. Straining my ear I thought I caught the sound of laughter. Perhaps a group of men was playing cards or throwing dice, the universal pastimes of soldiers the world over. Around two hundred paces from the camp we halted and then did not move for at least ten minutes. There appeared be a guard every ten paces, and if any of them had seen movement ahead their first instinct would not be to raise the alarm but to look again to confirm what they thought they had seen. So we remained dead still and the guard would have seen no further movement; he would shrug it off as being a lapse in concentration or a trick of the mind, nothing more.