by Peter Darman
‘Get up, all of you,’ Nergal commanded the priests. ‘This is a great day.’
The holy men rose as one but kept their heads bowed in the presence of their king and queen.
After he had embraced us all Nergal gestured to Surena to attend him. He left his Ma’adan and bounded up the steps, bowing to Nergal and Praxima when he reached them.
‘I received your message, Surena,’ said Nergal, ‘it greatly cheered us. I thank you for assuming command of the garrison in the hour of the city’s need.’
‘It was Surena who saved Uruk, Nergal,’ I said.
‘What King Pacorus says is true, divinity,’ added Rahim. ‘Commander Surena led the garrison and his detachment of Ma’adan with great valour, guided as he was by Anu.’
‘We are in your debt, Surena,’ said Nergal. ‘Take off that helmet so we can see your face. What reward would you have me grant you, saviour of my city? Name it and it shall be yours.’
Surena took off his bronze helm and bowed his head to Nergal and Praxima, then at me. He turned his head to glance at the Amazons drawn up in their helmets and mail armour.
‘Great king, I would ask that I be allowed to go back to Dura with my wife.’
Domitus laughed. ‘Ha, bet you didn’t expect that, did you Nergal? You thought to give him a high command and big house in the city but all he wants is to go home holding his wife’s hand.’
He pointed a finger at Surena. ‘I hope you’re not going soft, boy.’
Anger flashed in Surena’s eyes but he held his ire in check.
‘If the general wishes to pitch his sword skills against my own he will find me more than accommodating.’
‘I think we have all had our fair share of fighting these past few days,’ I said firmly.
Praxima, always intoxicated by the thought of impending violence, laughed.
‘I would like to see which one would triumph. Domitus the master, or Surena the rising star.’
‘There will be none of that,’ commanded Nergal. He looked at Surena.
‘Your wish is granted, Surena, for it would be cruel to separate you from Viper any longer. Go back to Dura with the gratitude of the people of the Kingdom of Mesene.’
Wearing a wide grin Surena returned to his soldiers as Nergal and Praxima declared that they were retiring to the palace to rest and satisfy their hungers. The parade was dismissed and the soldiers returned to barracks. Nergal and Praxima asked us to take breakfast with them even though we had already eaten.
‘You will eat with us too, Rahim,’ said Nergal.
So we again sat at the breakfast table in the company of our newly returned friends. The largest chamber in the white-walled palace was the great vaulted main hall that led to the throne room. But the domed dining hall, though still substantial, was smaller and more intimate, with a white marble dais at one end, upon which the table of the king and queen was set. As at Dura a corridor linked the dining hall to the kitchens. After they had washed and changed their clothes Nergal and Praxima invited us all to sit with them at the top table. Rahim found eating in close proximity to the son and daughter of the gods and the informality between them and us most uncomfortable.
Servants brought figs, fruit, bread, cheese, boiled eggs and yoghurt from the kitchens and laid the platters on the table. They served fruit juice from silver jugs as Nergal told us what had happened before we arrived.
Before he did I heard Praxima tell Gallia that the palace’s servants were all free men and women who had been hired by the chief steward. She may have been a merciless killer on the battlefield but she never forgot that she had once been a slave and, like me, had no desire to see others reduced to such a miserable existence.
Nergal tore off a great chunk of bread as Domitus nibbled on a piece of cheese.
‘Surena has proved he is worth his weight in gold to Mesene. When he came here he and I visited the Ma’adan to speak to their elders.’
‘That must have been interesting,’ said Gallia.
Domitus finished his cheese and picked up a date. ‘I hope you didn’t get raped by a water buffalo.’
Malik smiled but Rahim’s face wore a deep frown.
‘Having Surena with me eased communications considerably,’ continued Nergal. ‘I told the elders that they would be free to graze their beasts on dry land and go about their daily lives unmolested, while Surena said that he would be raising a contingent of warriors from among the Ma’adan to serve me.’
‘That must have gone down well,’ said Domitus.
‘Afterwards I sent a hundred water buffalo and a thousand fishing nets to the Ma’adan as a sign of my good faith,’ said Nergal.
‘A most wise decision, divinity,’ smiled Rahim, nibbling on a grape.
‘Soon after that groups of Ma’adan young men came to the city saying that they had come to fight for Surena,’ said Praxima.
‘Bare foot, dressed in rags and half starving, a most unprepossessing sight,’ murmured Rahim.
‘So what did you do with them?’ asked Domitus.
Nergal drained his cup of fruit juice. ‘We fed them, gave them new clothes and trained them to be soldiers. Train hard, fight easy, Domitus, just as we did at Dura.’
I was surprised. ‘And the garrison’s soldiers and the city’s citizens accepted the Ma’adan among them?’
Rahim answered for his king. ‘The people of Mesene are loyal to Anu and His chosen ones. The coming of their divinities was foretold many centuries ago. It is not for us to question their decisions.’
At that moment I realised what the source of Nergal’s authority and power was. It wasn’t his army, which in truth was a poor relation of the fighting forces that could be mustered by the other kingdoms of the empire. It was Uruk’s priests. Rahim and his subordinates told the citizens that Nergal and Praxima had been sent by Anu and no one questioned the holy men of the White Temple. And if Mesene was suddenly welcoming the Ma’adan instead of hunting them like animals, then who were mere mortals to question the will of the gods?
‘It was the Ma’adan who alerted us to a great fleet of boats carrying soldiers heading towards Mesene,’ said Praxima, tossing back her long red locks.
Nergal dipped a piece of bread in a pot of honey. ‘On the Tigris. So we took Kuban and three thousand horse archers raised by the lords of the kingdom east to intercept them.’
Kuban was a squat, hardy warrior from the Kingdom of Margiana, which was ruled by King Khosrou. He and a thousand others had originally been sent by Khosrou to fight for Gallia, so taken had the king been with my wife when he had met her at the Council of Kings at Esfahan. After fighting with distinction at Dura Gallia had gifted Kuban and his men, now numbering eight hundred, to Nergal and Praxima to stiffen their army. They rode hardy horses of the northern steppes and were armed with bows, swords, daggers and long spears – and were ruthless.
‘We intercepted and slaughtered the invaders,’ stated Nergal, ‘cut them down when they left their boats.’
‘It was easy,’ said Praxima.
Nergal shoved the honey covered bread into his mouth. ‘Too easy. In fact we had been deceived for the force on the Tigris was nothing more than a decoy to allow the main invading force to travel up the Euphrates and attack Uruk.’
‘Those we killed at the Tigris were warriors from Sakastan,’ said Praxima contemptuously. ‘I recognised them from when we fought Porus.’
‘Narses’ soldiers now,’ I spat.
‘We will pay him back for despoiling our lands,’ promised Praxima.
‘What about this King Tiraios?’ said Malik. ‘He might be tempted to attack Uruk again.’
Nergal turned to his high priest. ‘Rahim, what do you know of Charax?’
‘Only that it is poor, divinity, poorer than even…’
He stopped himself and blushed, obviously thinking twice about what he was about to say.
Nergal smiled. ‘Poorer than Mesene, you were going to say. It is all right. I am fully aware that my kingdom is
not a rich land.’
‘The point is,’ said Domitus, emptying a platter of figs, ‘that poor or not most of Charax’s army has been butchered before the walls of this city. Does anyone know how many enemy soldiers were slain?’
‘Upwards of five thousand,’ said Rahim with relish, ‘including nearly two thousand from Charax.’
Domitus puffed out his cheeks. ‘That’s a lot of men to lose, especially for a poor kingdom. I don’t think you will have to worry about Tiraios for a long time.’
‘It is he who will have to worry,’ promised Praxima.
We stayed for a week at Uruk, the wounded being treated and the rest enjoying the hospitality of a grateful populace. Surena and Viper took long walks among the remaining date palms, doum palms, sycamores and fig trees of the Royal Orchard. Gallia and Praxima organised picnics by the side of the artificial lakes in the orchard and we spent hours reminiscing about our time in Italy. Gallia even persuaded Byrd and Malik to join us on one occasion, though my chief scout hardly said anything, just staring at the pure white swans as they swam gracefully across the water. He had not changed one bit since the time I had first met him in Cappadocia all those years ago.
Domitus had scorned the idea of a picnic and instead had asked that Surena’s Ma’adan be allowed to accompany him as he took a thousand legionaries into the desert on a route march. Nergal had agreed and suggested that Kuban, who had returned to the city, play the role of enemy with his mounted warriors. Domitus had agreed. Three men died in the subsequent mock battle ten miles north of Uruk, but my army’s commander thought the exercise well worth it.
When he returned, after he had washed the dust of Mesopotamia from his body, I talked with him. He was dressed in a simple grey tunic, sandals and leather belt as I walked with him through the palace on his way to speak with Surena. As usual he carried his cane and had his gladius and dagger hanging from his belt.
‘I hope you two are not going to fight each other,’ I said.
He rolled his eyes. ‘I have better things to do than teach your cocky young protégé a lesson in sword fighting.’
‘Mm. Well good. Anyway, I have been thinking.
‘My congratulations,’ he said flatly.
‘Try to be serious. What is your opinion of Kuban and his men?’
Domitus twisted his cane in his hand. ‘Narrow-eyed killers, the lot of them. But good horsemen and Nergal is lucky to have them.’
‘You think they are capable of working in conjunction with foot soldiers?’
He shrugged. ‘With enough training, I don’t see why not. What are you thinking?’
‘That the legionaries should stay here for six months to stiffen Uruk’s defences, just in case Narses tries another venture.’
We passed through the main hall and exited the palace, arriving at the top of the steps that led down to the paved square where Surena’s Ma’adan were drawn up on parade. They looked a fine body of men, the late afternoon sun glinting off whetted spear points, bronze armour and helmets.
‘Not a bad idea,’ mused Domitus, ‘but you realise that if you leave nearly two thousand legionaries here and Nergal trains them to work with those flat-faced northern devils of Khosrou’s, Praxima will be bending his ear to raid Mithridates’ kingdom just across the Tigris.’
I smiled at him. ‘Precisely.’
Surena saw us approaching and shouted an order to his men, who snapped their spears to their sides as they came to attention. Domitus walked up to him, the younger man looking down at Domitus from behind the nose guard of his helmet.
‘Your men did well on the exercise,’ said Domitus. ‘I had my doubts about them but credit where credit’s due. Well done.’
‘Thank you, general.’
‘Please stand at ease, Surena,’ I said, ‘and take that helmet off. It’s like talking to a statue.’
He removed his bronze helm and smiled proudly.
‘Stand easy!’ he bellowed.
His men relaxed and stood at ease.
‘Where is he, then?’ asked Domitus.
Surena turned and waved forward a soldier in the front rank behind him. Attired like him in a cuirass of overlapping bronze scales, he sprinted forward and snapped to attention before Surena.
‘This is Jasham, general,’ said Surena, ‘whom I have selected to assume command of my soldiers when I leave for Dura. Take off your helmet, Jasham.’
The soldier did so to reveal a round face with a hard expression and shoulder-length black hair. He was the same height as Domitus but had broader shoulders.
‘I recognise you,’ I said. ‘You were one of the youths that sprang the ambush against Chosroes’ soldiers when I was their captive.’
‘That is correct, lord,’ Jasham replied without emotion.
‘You have come a long way,’ I told him. ‘Well done.’
I now understood why Nergal had been so unconcerned about Surena leaving Uruk. He knew that the command of the Ma’adan would be in the hands of one of Surena’s childhood friends who came from the same village as Viper’s husband.
‘How many of the men I see before me were part of that gang of young raiders who preyed on Chosroes’ soldiers?’ I asked Surena.
His face wore a wide grin. ‘A score, lord, all raised to commanders.’
‘Disciplined cut-throats,’ opined Domitus. ‘I like it.’
The Ma’adan were again drawn up in their ranks the next day when we left Uruk. The previous evening, at the feast given in our honour in the palace, I told Nergal and Praxima that I would leave all the legionaries with them for six months as a precaution against any further enemy incursions. I saw Praxima’s eyes light up with excitement and heard Domitus’ words in my head. But I knew that Nergal had a wise head on his shoulders and would not start any unnecessary wars. Or at least I hoped he would not.
Gallia embraced her friend and then led the Amazons from the palace, Byrd’s scouts leading the way with the horse archers following. I had decided that I would cross the Euphrates and ride back to Dura on the western side of the river. As Malik was with us this would not be a problem and would save us having to ride through Babylonian and Hatran territory, and save me having to explain my movements to King Vardan and my father.
On a crystal clear day, with the sun high in a blue sky and the waters of the Euphrates calm and clear, we trotted across the temporary bridge that had been constructed by lashing the rafts that had transported us to Uruk together and entered Agraci territory. We were sad to leave our friends but were in high spirits at having destroyed Narses’ plan and the army he had sent to implement it. As the sun shone on my back I was content in the knowledge that the gods were smiling on Dura and its king.
Chapter 4
Byrd and Malik rode ahead to announce our presence to Yasser, whose land we were entering. The other scouts went with them, more out of something to do than to ensure the security of their commander or the Agraci prince. The region to the west of the Euphrates was a desolate landscape of rocky outcrops, smooth sandy plains and sparse vegetation. It was a sun-blasted land that was avoided by Parthians, not least because it was the domain of the feared Agraci, in addition to many snakes and scorpions. So the land adjacent to the Euphrates lay abandoned, despite the fact that it flooded every spring and burst forth with plant life, before once more becoming arid and inhospitable in the summer. But to us it was a land of tranquillity and peace, home to our Agraci allies. We knew that the journey home would be uneventful, though we had reckoned without the complaining of Lucius Domitus.
He may have been a general but he was used to marching on foot and found riding in the saddle strange and alien. Nergal had given him a beautiful five-year-old light brown mare to ride back to Dura, an animal with a calm temperament and a relaxed gait. It should have been an ideal mount for Dura’s general but instead he did nothing but complain about it and the saddle.
Each day we rose at dawn and groomed and fed the horses, checking them over for any loose shoes and sores.
Then we ate our breakfast before saddling our mounts and riding for two hours before walking the horses for a further hour to conserve their energy. We usually rested during the two hours either side of midday, taking the horses to the Euphrates to quench their thirst and wade in the water, before riding them for a further three hours in the afternoon. Without the impediment of wagons or soldiers on foot we were able to cover up to forty miles a day. On the third day it all became too much for Domitus, who had forgotten the lessons he had learned about riding on the trip to Esfahan for the Council of Kings.
‘This wretched beast hates me,’ he whined, shifting in his saddle. ‘And I’ve got blisters on my arse as big as camel spiders.’
Gallia laughed. ‘My sympathies.’
‘I don’t want sympathy,’ snapped Domitus, ‘I want to be off this bloody horse.’
‘You are uncomfortable because you are sitting all wrong,’ I told him. ‘Look at how we sit in the saddle. You are positioned too far forward. Relax and sit back.’
Our saddles had four padded horns, two at the front and two at the back, which held the rider in place. However, novice riders had a tendency to sit forward because initially it felt as though the rear horns did not offer enough support and they feared tumbling from the saddle.
‘You must trust the saddle, Domitus,’ said Gallia, ‘just as you trust the sword that hangs by your side.’
Domitus squirmed in the saddle again. ‘Trust? It’s not natural, sitting on a mangy beast with your legs dangling in mid-air.’
‘You should not insult your horse, general,’ said Surena behind us. ‘It will take offence. Try to use your legs to grip the front horns of the saddle, and keep them bent.’
Domitus was unimpressed. ‘When I want your advice I will ask for it.’
‘He’s right Domitus,’ I said, ‘you should not upset the beast you are riding on. After all, in battle your life might depend on it.’
Domitus smiled bitterly at me. ‘Not my life. I prefer to fight on foot like I was trained to do.’
‘But Romans have horsemen, general,’ said Viper riding next to Surena, her girlish voice causing him to smile.
