Companions (The Parthian Chronicles)

by Peter Darman

‘Pacorus’ mother is charming and attractive,’ said Domitus, ‘so the answer to your question is no. This is Pacorus’ sorceress.’

  Unconcerned by Domitus’ insult, Dobbai walked over to Athineos.

  ‘Your coming is an ill omen.’

  ‘That’s enough,’ I said. ‘Athineos is an old friend and deserves some respect.’

  Dobbai continued to fix Athineos with her eyes. ‘Very well. With respect I ask you again. Why are you here?’

  ‘I have heard about you, lady,’ smiled Athineos, trying to win Dobbai over with his charm. ‘Your reputation has spread far and wide.’

  ‘Honeyed words have no effect on me, servant of the Romans,’ spat Dobbai. ‘I am not an innocent maiden easily deceived by flattering words.’

  ‘Whatever the reason he is here,’ I insisted, ‘he is very welcome.’

  Dobbai sneered at Athineos and walked over to her chair, inviting Samahe to sit in the one next to hers.

  ‘Tell him the reason you are here, captain,’ she said as she settled her back against the cushions.

  Athineos smiled awkwardly at me and again began fiddling with his rings.

  ‘I have to confess that I do bring some news that might interest you,’ he said. ‘Not that I wouldn’t have come to see you anyway.’

  ‘Of course not,’ remarked Dobbai dryly.

  ‘Spit it out, then,’ I told him.

  He looked at Gallia and me and then at Domitus and Godarz before taking a great gulp of wine.

  ‘Burebista is alive.’

  Chapter 5

  I stared at him, stunned and disbelieving.

  ‘Impossible,’ hissed Gallia. ‘I was there the night he fell. Just outside Rhegium.’

  ‘She’s right,’ I said. ‘Burebista fell the night we helped Spartacus escape from Crassus’ trap outside Rhegium.’

  Athineos held up his hands. ‘I do not know of the episode you talk about. But I do know this. There are to be gladiatorial games at Ephesus this summer. I was one of the captains commissioned to collect wild animals to transport to the city. Anyway, I got talking to the agent who commissioned me and he told me that these games are going to be spectacular, with all the top gladiatorial schools sending their fighters to take part. He operates out of Capua, you see.’

  Gallia’s expression hardened. ‘Capua?’

  Athineos smiled at her but received an icy stare in return.

  ‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘he told me that the school of Lentulus Vatia was sending its top gladiators to take part, including Burebista the Dacian.’

  Gallia suddenly looked miserable and went to the stone balustrade, staring out across the waters of the Euphrates. I walked over to her and slipped my arm around her waist.

  ‘Are you ill?’

  She gave me a smile but her eyes were full of sadness.

  ‘I never thought I would hear that name again.’

  ‘What, Burebista?’

  ‘No, Lentulus Vatia. Lanista of Capua’s ludus, the man I was sold to by my dear father.’

  Godarz was angry. ‘This is all nonsense. Burebista died years ago in Italy. We were all there, captain, and saw him fall.’

  ‘I am just reporting what I have heard, that is all,’ pleaded Athineos. ‘I thought it unlikely too until he told me that after he was found on the battlefield this Burebista was nursed back to health on the orders of Crassus himself. He was then sold to the lanista at Capua to be trained as a gladiator. He is an Eques.’

  ‘A horseman?’ I said.

  ‘A gladiator trained to fight on horseback in the arena,’ said Domitus.

  ‘Except the agent told me that this horseman did not need any training to ride a horse,’ continued Athineos, ‘on account of him being part of the mounted slaves who fought beside Spartacus.’

  ‘Many horsemen fought beside Spartacus,’ said Godarz. ‘This is ridiculous, Pacorus. There are many men called Burebista. It is a common enough Dacian name.’

  ‘Well,’ added Athineos, ‘the agent told me that this Burebista fought with the Parthian, meaning you Pacorus, that is King Pacorus. And in celebration of this, or mockery depending on your point of view, in the arena he rides a white horse.’

  My blood ran cold. I wanted to laugh and tell Athineos that he had been spun a fairy tale, hoodwinked, deceived. I could not because a voice inside my head told me that his words must be true. But after all these years?

  ‘Your story has one major flaw, captain,’ said Godarz. ‘We saw Burebista fall outside Rhegium.’

  ‘Except that you did not.’ I turned to see Dobbai resting her chin on her thumbs, staring at Godarz.

  My governor curled his lip dismissively at her. ‘We were there; you were not.’

  Then she looked at me. ‘The doubt etched on your face, son of Hatra, tells me that you believe the words of this pirate. So, did you see this Burebista fall?’

  ‘Burebista is dead,’ I insisted. ‘He was killed at Rhegium.’

  Dobbai gave me a knowing look.

  ‘Then the matter is closed.’ She looked at Athineos. ‘The man you have been told about, pirate, is obviously a different individual from the one who fought with the son of Hatra in the slave general’s army.’

  ‘It is as Dobbai says,’ I said, avoiding the old witch’s eyes.

  ‘I just thought you should know, that is all,’ remarked Athineos quietly.

  He stayed with us for two days, during which time he said nothing more about Burebista or the games at Ephesus. I escorted him on a tour of the city, the caravan park where we talked with the merchants of the Silk Road and the legionary camp. Dobbai and Samahe made themselves scarce during this time and I noticed that Godarz took himself away on a visit to some of Dura’s lords who lived in their great mud-brick strongholds to the north of the city. Athineos was impressed by what he saw, particularly when Gallia put the Amazons through their paces on the shooting range, though I think the old sea dog was ogling the shapely bodies of the women of my wife’s bodyguard rather than admiring their archery skills.

  I had asked him to stay in the palace but he told me he had rented a room in one of the city’s brothels. He said the combination of good food, wine and attractive, available women made even a palace pale in comparison. On the morning of his departure he rode to the Citadel after I had finished on the training fields. He found me brushing down Remus outside the stable block where he was housed. Around me dozens of stable hands, farriers and veterinaries were mucking out stalls, fitting new shoes to horses and listening to cataphracts pointing out possible health problems with their mounts. The scene resembled one of the city’s squares on market day.

  Two legionaries escorted Athineos to where I stood among a hundred horse archers who I had trained with earlier.

  ‘I see you still have your horse, then,’ Athineos grinned.

  I waved the guards back.

  ‘Remus is one of the most famous horses in Parthia,’ I told him.

  He walked up and stroked Remus’ neck. ‘Not only in Parthia but Syria too. You have made quite an impression, King Pacorus.

  ‘I came to say farewell. Time for me to get back to my ships.’

  ‘And wild animals.’

  ‘You do not approve?’ he said.

  I stopped brushing Remus’ flank and stretched my back. ‘We all have to earn a living.’

  ‘Even kings?’

  I nodded. ‘Even kings. The taxes levied on the trade caravans that pass through Dura help to pay for all of this.’

  I held out an arm to the stables. ‘War is an expensive business.’

  ‘Good job you are good at it, then.’

  He offered me his hand. ‘Thank you for your hospitality.’

  I took his hand and laughed. ‘Shouldn’t you be saying that to the mistress of the brothel you have been staying at?’

  He winked. ‘Already have, don’t you worry.’

  His expression suddenly changed to one of deadly earnestness. ‘I will be at Tripolis for three months should you wi
sh to partake of my hospitality. After that I will be sailing to Ephesus to deliver the animals for the games.’

  He patted Remus on the neck, gave me a wry smile, turned and walked away, the guards escorting him back to the courtyard where his own horse waited. I finished brushing my horse and took him back to his stall. The stables were filled with the pleasing aroma of freshly laid straw and clean horses. The air vents in the ceiling were open to prevent it getting too hot inside the stalls, fifty of which were in this particular block. Epona was housed in another, larger block where the horses of the Amazons were quartered. I placed my saddle on a hook on the wall opposite Remus’ stall and draped his saddlecloth over a wooden rail underneath. Each stall was large enough to allow a horse to turn around, lie down and get up without bumping into the walls. And like the other horses Remus had his own hay manger, water trough and window vents that allowed air to circulate.

  I leaned on the top of the door to his stall. In each side wall were metal grilles to allow him to see into the next stall. Horses are social animals and like to know they are in the company of other horses. In this way they are happier and not stressed.

  ‘Well, Remus, life is never simple. Just when you think you have solved one problem another takes its place.’

  Around me stable hands and horse archers had been busy leading their horses to their stalls, sweeping the floor or refilling hay mangers and water troughs. The building had echoed to the sound of their activity but now it fell silent. I felt a pair of eyes on me and turned to see the figure of Dobbai. This was highly unusual as she rarely if ever visited the stables.

  ‘Remus needs rest after his morning exertion,’ I said, ‘but I can find you a fresh horse if you so desire.’

  She gave me a disdainful look. ‘Do not try to be clever, son of Hatra, it does not suit you. The pirate has gone?’

  ‘He has.’

  She walked over to stand beside me. ‘And what will you do now?’

  ‘Well, after I have finished here I have a meeting with Rsan to discuss tenancy agreements for farmers wishing to work the land that belongs to the royal estates.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool!’ she snapped. ‘I was not talking about your tallyman’s piles of useless parchments, as you well know.’

  I said nothing.

  ‘You think he is still alive, don’t you? And like a seed planted in the earth the pirate’s words will grow louder in your mind until they are like a pair of kettledrums being constantly banged inside your skull.’

  I walked away. ‘Have you ever thought that it is perhaps your words that torture me, Dobbai?’

  But she was right. Over the following days the only thing I could think about was Burebista. I racked my brains trying to remember what had happened that night outside Rhegium. I remembered the snow, the burning towers and ramparts and the breakthrough of Spartacus’ army. But I knew that I had not seen Burebista fall.

  ‘You’re thinking of going, aren’t you?’

  I was standing on the balcony of our bedroom, the light fading from the earth as another day drew to a close. Another day of normality in Dura but a period of torment for me. I sighed and went back into the bedroom. Gallia was dressed in an alluring cotton robe, very sheer and very thin. I could see her breasts and the shape of her thighs clearly. Normally such a vision would stir my loins but I felt nothing. I was detached, as though I was watching the scene rather than being a part of it. I sat on the edge of the bed and sighed.

  ‘Sorry, what did you say?’

  ‘Orodes and Domitus took the army east today. They intend to burn Ctesiphon, kill Mithridates and then march on Persepolis.’

  I jumped up. ‘What?’

  She laid back on the bed, her locks cascading over her neck and breasts.

  ‘Now that I have your intention perhaps you could answer my question.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘When are you leaving for Tripolis?’

  I looked at her and thought I might deceive her with bluff but her eyes told me that she already knew the answer.

  ‘What if it is true?’ was all I could say.

  ‘What if it is? What can you do about it? Take ship with Athineos and rescue Burebista from the arena? It is not your concern, Pacorus. Your concern is here, with me and your daughter, in Dura.’

  That night, as she lay asleep in my arms, a slight wind rippling the net curtain at the balcony’s entrance, I lay awake and thought of Burebista. I remembered the big, courageous Dacian who had risen to be the commander of a dragon – a thousand horsemen – in Italy. Brave Burebista, always smiling and never downcast. Now condemned to the living hell of the arena. Dobbai was always telling me that the gods sent men signs, omens and warnings. What else could Athineos’ visit be but a sign? And why had Samahe suddenly appeared at Dura? It was not a coincidence, of that I was now certain, though the exact purpose of her visit was yet to be revealed.

  I sat up. ‘No.’

  The next day I was treated by Alcaeus. The chief of the army’s medical corps rarely visited the Citadel, being content to restrict himself to the hospital in the legionary camp. There he could practise his medical skills and supervise his fellow physicians. Occasionally he would walk to the Citadel to see Claudia but we saw him almost every day after training sessions when we took refreshments in Domitus’ command tent. Tall with wiry hair and a black beard, like his fellow medics he wore a simple white tunic with a leather bag holding his medicines over his shoulder and a pair of sandals on his feet. He looked more like a philosopher than a healer but he was probably more intelligent than any of us and had a great thirst for knowledge. It was his analytical mind that led him to dislike Dobbai, whom he regarded as a charlatan and troublemaker. But he knew that Gallia was immensely fond of her and so he avoided the old woman.

  Alcaeus gently lifted my left arm above my shoulder and observed my facial expression.

  ‘Well, you will be pleased to know that nothing is broken, otherwise you would be screaming by now. Best to avoid your morning routine for a couple of days.’

  Domitus placed a towel in a bowl of water and then applied it on the back of his neck.

  ‘That must be the first time that Pacorus has fallen off his horse. I thought Parthians are born in the saddle.’

  I had been shooting at targets on the ranges but my mind had been elsewhere. After I had turned in the saddle to shoot an arrow at a target over Remus’ hindquarters my mind was thinking about the games at Ephesus when Remus pulled up as we neared the end of the course and I had toppled from the saddle. It had caused great mirth among the horse archers I had been training with.

  ‘My mind was elsewhere,’ I said.

  ‘Thinking about Burebista,’ said Gallia, accepting a drink of water from Domitus. It had been a hot morning and threatened to be an even hotter afternoon.

  Domitus rolled his eyes. ‘Mother of Jupiter, you’re not still going on about that, surely?’

  I ignored him. ‘Alcaeus, tell me about Ephesus.’

  The doctor filled a cup with water and sat on a stool.

  ‘Ephesus? A rich trading port in the eastern Aegean and the site of the sanctuary of the Goddess Artemis. Why do you ask?’

  ‘I have heard that there are annual games held there,’ I said evasively.

  ‘Roman gladiatorial games,’ he sneered. ‘Yes, I have heard. There are no levels to which the Romans will not sink to, no offence Domitus.’

  Domitus smiled. ‘None taken.’

  Alcaeus stood and began pacing, much like I imagined a Greek philosopher would do when delivering a lesson.

  ‘The Great Theatre at Ephesus is one of the wonders of the world, I have heard, being able to seat over twenty thousand people. It was built during the reign of Lysimachus over two hundred years ago. He was one of the Diodochi, of course.’

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Domitus.

  Alcaeus stopped and stared in amazement at him. ‘Do you know nothing of Greek history, Domitus?’

  ‘Not much,’
sniffed Domitus. ‘There wasn’t much call for it when I was fighting for Rome, and even less now I’m at Dura.’

  Alcaeus shook his head gravely. ‘I suppose you have heard of Alexander of Macedon?’

  ‘Naturally,’ replied Domitus. ‘One of the few Greeks who was good with a sword.’

  ‘The Diodochi were the successors of Alexander,’ continued Alcaeus, ‘men who served under him during his conquests. I believe Lysimachus was one of his bodyguards. Anyway, after Alexander’s death he became the ruler of Thrace and Asia Minor and founded Ephesus.’

  ‘It is now under Roman rule,’ said Gallia.

  ‘Like many cities and regions, lady,’ replied Alcaeus sadly. ‘Laying that aside, you may be interested to know that legend has it that Ephesus was founded by the Amazons, the warrior women of myth made real by Dura’s queen.’

  Domitus laughed but Alcaeus ignored him.

  ‘Having fought a bruising battle with Heracles, the demi-god who was the last mortal son of Zeus, the Amazons regrouped at a spot that later became Ephesus. I have heard that there are four statues of Amazon women in the temple itself.’

  ‘Was Artemis an Amazon?’ I asked as I stretched my shoulder.

  Alcaeus shook his head. ‘No. Artemis is the daughter of Zeus, the king of the gods, and one of the three maiden goddesses of Olympus. She is also the daughter of the Goddess Leto. Artemis is the Goddess of the Moon, Goddess of the Hunt and the twin sister of Apollo.’

  I looked at Gallia and saw that she was enthralled by his words.

  Alcaeus looked at Domitus. ‘The Romans also worship Artemis, though for some unexplained reason they call her Diana.’

  He smiled at Gallia. ‘In civilised places Artemis is known as the Maiden of the Silver Bow because she is typically shown carrying a silver bow and arrows, the latter representing the rays of the moon. She also wears silver sandals and rides in a silver chariot.’

  ‘And people worship Artemis at Ephesus?’ asked Gallia.

  ‘They travel from far and wide to say prayers at the Temple of Artemis,’ said Alcaeus. ‘It is the largest place of worship in the world.’

  I was sceptical. ‘Bigger than the Great Temple at Hatra, Alcaeus?’