Authors: Peter Darman
‘You should have taken your whole army into Gordyene, Pacorus.’
‘It needed rest and replenishment after our fight with the Romans,’ I replied.
He shoulders slumped. ‘Is there no end to these Romans?’
Ctesiphon — grand, sprawling, slightly ramshackle and decadent. The first time I had visited the royal residence it had been a centre of power. The aged Sinatruces had maintained its defences and garrison, had kept the numbers of his courtiers and staff at a minimum, and had not abused the office of King of Kings. I had seen him in his autumn years when his body was feeble and giving up on him, but his mind was still sharp to the end. He knew that empires crumble from within, and had sought to keep the petty jealousies and ambitions of the empire’s kings in check. When he first became King of Kings he had done this by force, leading armies to crush his enemies and laying waste their lands to set an example. His reputation was fierce, but he was also a fair ruler who forgave his truly repentant enemies and never bore a grudge. He stamped down on any signs of treachery ruthlessly, however, and was careful not to abuse his high rank. In return the kings gave him obedience and the empire flourished. Above all, Sinatruces was a good judge of character. How different was his son.
Ctesiphon was now a place of catamites, whores and debauchery. Incense filled our nostrils as soon as we entered the palace, its corridors filled with gaudily dressed courtiers and their capricious wives. Men walked arm-in-arm with other men while eunuchs with shaved heads and dark make-up around their eyes regarded us warily. Even the guards looked decadent, dressed as they were in red boots, bright yellow baggy leggings and tops with bright red felt caps on their heads. They carried wicker shields painted white and carried spears with brightly polished blades.
‘They wouldn’t last five minutes on the battlefield,’ Khosrou mumbled to me in disgust.
The throne room had undergone a transformation since the last time I was here. There were several throne rooms in the palace but this was the largest. Under Sinatruces they had always been sombre, foreboding places designed to intimidate guests, but now their purpose was to awe visitors. The stone pillars had been cased in gold leaf and the walls had been painted white. White marble tiles covered the whole of the floor, while the royal dais was covered with small red tiles. Phraates and his queen sat side-by-side on the dais, with Mithridates hovering like a vulture on the high king’s left and a portly court official standing behind the King of Susiana. A group of beautiful, haughty women dressed in expensive white robes and dripping with gold jewellery stood next to the dais near the queen, while clustered around the great columns were groups of courtiers.
I stood before the dais, Khosrou on my right and Musa on my left, Atrax and Orodes completing the line. All chatter died away as we bowed our heads to Phraates. Aruna displayed her usual icy beauty, though Phraates looked withered and withdrawn, bewildered even. He waved his hand at us but his eyes were blank and his stare vacant. I wondered if he was drugged.
‘Welcome to Ctesiphon.’ Phraates’ voice was feeble.
There was an awkward silence. Courtiers looked at each other and the queen’s serpent-like eyes fixed me. I decided to grasp the cobra by the neck.
‘Lord king, I have come to your court to seek clarity on a most pressing issue.’
Phraates’ brow furrowed. ‘Issue?’
‘Yes, highness, for I have heard that you have traded my kingdom for Gordyene. If so, I have to report that the Romans have not evacuated Gordyene. I know, for I was there not long ago.’
Phraates looked alarmed and cast his eyes down. Musa then spoke.
‘What King Pacorus says is true, great one. I and King Khosrou were forced to defend our realms again these Romans who wandered uninvited into our domains.’
‘And why was this so, King Musa?’ asked Mithridates.
Musa frowned. ‘Why? Because they sent soldiers into my kingdom, that is why.’
Mithridates nodded gravely. ‘But surely, lord king, if they had not been provoked they would not have strayed into your kingdom.’
The queen was nodding. I knew where this was leading.
‘The fact is,’ continued Mithridates, ‘that King Pacorus’ ill-judged adventure provoked the Romans into retaliating.’
‘Are we to let Rome dictate to us?’ I asked. ‘Are its armies free to roam at will throughout the empire, to burn and loot with impunity?’
‘Of course not,’ said Phraates, looking at me, some fire in his eyes at last, ‘but you have provoked them as my son says, Pacorus. It is a most disagreeable situation.’
‘You should demand that the Romans retreat from Gordyene, great one,’ said Musa.
Mithridates smiled. ‘Alas, we are not in a position to demand. The recent civil war has weakened the empire.’
Musa turned on Mithridates. ‘I was not addressing you. Be silent.’
For once Mithridates was lost for words, though his mother was not.
‘Is that how you speak in the presence of the King of Kings, Musa?’ Her voice was filled with venom. Musa ignored her and glared at Mithridates.
‘I must ask again, highness,’ I said, ‘if these rumours of the agreement to trade Dura for Gordyene are true.’
‘Well,’ muttered Phraates, ‘you must understand, Pacorus, that our position was and is most delicate.’
‘The answer is yes,’ spat Mithridates, ‘Dura was ceded to the Romans in exchange for the return of Gordyene to the empire.’
I felt a surge of anger course through me. So my kingdom had been traded like a cheap trinket in the marketplace. In that moment any respect I might have had for Phraates evaporated. He was beneath contempt, while his son and mother were not even worthy of thought.
‘Dura is my kingdom,’ I said slowly, ‘and none may decide its fate except its king.’
‘Except that it is not your kingdom,’ said Mithridates.
‘What?’
Mithridates turned and ordered the portly man who had been standing behind him to step forward. He had pale skin and a wispy light brown beard, with small piggy eyes that darted left and right nervously. He held his effeminate hands in front of his body, his fingers short and puffy.
‘This is Ashlen,’ continued Mithridates, ‘my father’s chancellor and considered something of a legal expert when it comes to the affairs of the empire.’
My patience was fast running out. ‘Is there any point to this?’
Mithridates sneered at me. ‘Ashlen, explain to “King” Pacorus the legal status of Dura.’
Ashlen shuffled forward a few more steps. ‘Well,’ his voice was slightly high pitched, ‘the lands on the western bank of the Euphrates, that were and are administered by the city of Dura, have always been part of the Kingdom of Susiana, not a separate kingdom per se.’ He looked at Mithridates.
‘Please continue, Ashlen,’ said Mithridates.
‘Yes, well, Dura was technically a region that was used by the Great Sinatruces as a place of exile for undesirable elements.’
‘What point is this idiot trying to make?’ I said in exasperation.
‘The point,’ retorted Mithridates, ‘is that my grandfather gave you Dura, which at the time was actually part of my father’s kingdom, that is, Susiana. That being the case, he is only too pleased to exchange it for Gordyene.’
This was ludicrous. ‘And what of the thousands of Parthians who inhabit Dura and the thousands more who live on its lands.’
Mithridates held out his hands. ‘What of them? They were sent there in the first place because the empire did not want them. Thieves and beggars, most of them. I should know, I had the misfortune of ruling over them for a while.’
Mithridates stood with a smirk on his face, while the courtiers and the queen’s ladies looked down their noses at me.
‘So be it,’ I announced. ‘But I will defend my kingdom and all those who live in it, legality or no.’
Mithridates guffawed. ‘Dura is tiny. What chance will you and it stand when the Romans send a larger army against you, standing all alone against their host of legions?’
‘Not alone,’ it was the first time that Khosrou had spoken. ‘Pacorus is my friend and I will stand by him, even if others will not.’
‘As will I,’ announced Musa.
‘And I,’ said Orodes.
‘Media also stands with Dura,’ said Atrax.
Mithridates looked alarmed, as did Phraates. They may not have cared about me, but when a ruler such as Khosrou spoke men listened. It was rumoured that he could raise an army of a hundred thousand men, and Margiana was a power that could certainly make the empire tremble.
Phraates rose from his throne, his face gaunt and pale. ‘Musa and Khosrou, we do not wish to stir your anger, but we must bring Gordyene back into the empire.’
‘Then take it back, high king,’ replied Khosrou, ‘for you have only to give the word and my army is at your disposal.’
Phraates managed a wry smile and then sat back down. ‘There is no point in shedding an ocean of blood when a mere document will achieve our aims.’
‘Lord king,’ said Khosrou, ‘you cannot sacrifice Dura just for the sake of averting war.’
‘Cannot?’ snapped Mithridates, ‘my father is the King of Kings.’
Khosrou turned on Mithridates. ‘I was not addressing you, boy.’
‘Mithridates is a king like you,’ said the queen.
‘Not like me, lady,’ said Khosrou, ‘for I do not crawl on my belly as he does.’
I laughed and the hall erupted in anger, courtiers jabbing their fingers at Khosrou and the queen’s ladies chattering in alarm like a gaggle of geese. The guards around the hall moved menacingly towards us. Eventually Mithridates raised his hands to still the commotion.
‘King Khosrou, we are all friends here, or should be.’
Khosrou was unmoved. ‘Friends do not abandon each other.’
‘I must have Gordyene back,’ said Phraates.
‘Then take it back, highness,’ I said. ‘Dura’s army is at your disposal.’
‘No,’ for once Phraates’ voice was firm. ‘You have caused too much war, Pacorus. You are no longer welcome at Ctesiphon.’
He waved to the guards who levelled their spears and moved to circle me. So it had come to this — all the blood that my men had shed keeping Phraates on his throne and now I was being treated like an outcast, a common criminal. In that moment I despised Phraates and his whole family. No, not his whole family; for as I bowed and then turned to walk from the hall, Orodes accompanied me.
Phraates stood up once more. ‘Those who leave with Pacorus will likewise be unwelcome here.’
‘Orodes,’ said Mithridates, ‘would you turn your back on your family?’
‘I have no family,’ he replied, marching beside me.
Seconds later I was joined by Khosrou, Atrax and Musa. Outside the palace we collected our horses and rode from Ctesiphon to our camp pitched ten miles north of the palace. I never saw Phraates again.
The next day the two kings struck camp and headed back to their homelands. I decided to ride north with them, before heading west to Media to deliver Atrax back to his wife. Khosrou seemed unconcerned by the recent events.
‘Alas for Phraates, an innocent in a nest of vipers.’
‘Things will get worse while he’s high king,’ said Musa, ‘we’d better keep our sword blades sharp and our bowstrings taught.’
‘What will you do, now, Pacorus?’ asked Khosrou.
‘Go home, lord, back to my family.’
He nodded. ‘A wise choice. You and your wife are always welcome in Margiana. I would like to see your blonde beauty again.’
‘Thank you, lord. I will bring her north to see you, I promise.’
‘The same goes for me,’ added Musa.
We said our farewells to the two kings at the eastern border of Media. I, Orodes and Atrax then rode west to Irbil. Byrd and Malik rode ahead to announce our arrival, and some miles from the city we were met by a large party of Farhad’s bodyguard. They were glad to see their prince in one piece, as was his wife when we reached the palace. When we marched into the hall I noticed that there were now three thrones on the dais. My sister’s power and influence in Media was obviously growing. The reunion between husband and wife was tender and touching, and afterwards as Atrax sat between Farhad and his wife he held her hand and grinned at her like a small child. Farhad himself seemed happy and relaxed now that his son and heir was back at his side. That evening he gave a feast for all of us who had returned from Gordyene in his great hall. I sat on the top table on the left side of the king, with Orodes, Malik and Byrd beside me. Atrax sat on Farhad’s other side, next to Aliyeh. As the evening progressed and more wine was consumed, many of Farhad’s bodyguard grumbled that they should have been allowed to accompany their prince, whose reputation for valour had increased markedly during his absence. Farhad told them they obeyed orders and were not free to go on personal crusades, but I could tell that he was pleased with his son and the outcome of our expedition north.
‘The Romans have been keeping very quiet in Gordyene of late. I receive reports that they are reducing their garrison.’
I said nothing but doubted the accuracy of those reports.
‘We also received news from Ctesiphon that the high king is displeased with you, Pacorus, and that you are banished and your kingdom has been given to the Romans.’ There was a triumphant tone in my sister’s voice.
I decided not to rise to the bait. ‘It is true, sister, I have displeased Mithridates and his mother, it seems. It is of no consequence.’
‘Really?’ she was positively gloating now. ‘But have you also heard that King Narses has been made lord high general of the empire?’
My heart sank. ‘No, I had not.’
‘It would appear that you have made yourself an enemy of the whole empire.’
‘You are wrong, Aliyeh,’ said Atrax, ‘Pacorus has many friends, Media among them.’
But my sister’s news had dampened my appetite and I did not enjoy the rest of the evening. All I desired was to get back to Dura. It was now seven months since I left, too long to be away from Gallia and Claudia in the service of a king who was no longer my friend.
Chapter 18
S
even months and ten days after I had left Dura I rode across the pontoon bridge over the Euphrates and returned to my kingdom. It was good to be back and I inhaled the rich aroma of horses, camels and spices coming from the heavy traffic on the road going east and west. Indeed, so choked was the road leading to the bridge that I ordered my horsemen to dismount and walk through the throng. We removed our helmets. Our bows were in their cases affixed to our saddles. Ahead of us was a fat man bellowing at the drivers of his camel train, who were allowing too wide a gap to develop between each beast.