Companions (The Parthian Chronicles)

by Peter Darman

  That night men sat in stunned, silent groups round fires as they mourned their dead comrades and thanked the gods for their deliverance. But there was little food and even less fodder so everyone endured a miserable night, their heads full of morbid thoughts and their bellies empty. The next day the march back to Histria began. During the night my mare had gone lame so I walked beside her for the duration of the journey. The kings kept to their respective tribal warriors and avoided each other, while Akrosas avoided everyone. I comforted myself with the knowledge that nearly five hundred dead legionaries had been counted on the battlefield.

  By the time we clapped eyes on the walls of Histria we were filthy, stank, our clothes were torn and dirty and there were black circles round our eyes. But as the gates of the city opened the residents, no doubt filled with dread at the prospect of being either killed or enslaved by the Romans, rushed out to greet their returning heroes. Men who had been hobbling along with the aid of makeshift crutches, and who had appeared to be at death’s door, suddenly underwent a miraculous recovery as vivacious young girls embraced them. Hand-drawn carts heaped with food, water and wine were soon among the warriors, their drivers demanding that their cargoes be consumed post haste. What semblance of order that had existed vanished as hardened warriors wept as they were cradled in the arms of grateful old maids.

  A dazzlingly attractive woman no more than twenty years old offered Surena a full water skin. He smiled, took it and drank most of the contents, wine pouring down his neck. He wiped his mouth and promptly threw up, his stomach unused to the rich liquid after days of eating hardly anything. He looked shamefaced at the woman as we fell about laughing. But I wasn’t laughing when I went to visit Alcaeus who had volunteered to assist in the treatment of the wounded. A large warehouse inside the walls of the citadel had been designated a temporary hospital, the patients lying in rows on the dirt floor. Physicians, slaves and priestesses from the Tempe of Bendis attended to the wounded, their low groans unnerving me as I found my Greek doctor ordering two slaves to take away a dead man.

  ‘You look like I feel,’ I told him.

  He cracked a weary smile. ‘Thank the gods you are alive. How are the others?’

  ‘All in one piece,’ I said. I saw the figure of Hippo kneeling beside a patient.

  ‘What is she doing here?’

  He looked at the former high priestess. ‘She has been here since the hospital was established, working without complaint and undertaking the filthiest of tasks. I think she sees it as penance for her sins.’

  ‘The gods must have accepted her penance,’ I said. ‘Cleon survived the battle.’

  ‘She will be pleased. One thing you should attend to before the feast that will invariably be held tonight. Athineos got himself arrested while you were away. He currently languishes in jail.’

  Alcaeus was wrong about the feast. So exhausted were the returning ‘heroes’ that they immediately fell asleep when they reached the square inside the citadel, servants arriving to take the equally exhausted horses to the royal stables to be watered and treated. Akrosas took himself to the Temple of Apollo to pray for forgiveness for letting the Romans escape, even Rodica being forbidden to enter the shrine. The king stayed there all night, the other kings returning to the palace to bathe and acquire clean clothing. I let Athineos languish for a further night in jail, being too exhausted to care about his welfare. One man I did make time for was Admiral Arcathius whose Pontic soldiers had garrisoned the city in the king’s absence.

  He was dressed in his magnificent scale armour cuirass when I visited him on the palace balcony later that afternoon. We sat under a white linen sunshade as slaves served us wine, fruit and delicious honey cakes. I was careful not to indulge, as I did not want to empty my stomach as Surena had done earlier.

  ‘My congratulations, King Pacorus,’ he said. ‘You have saved this city from a terrible fate.’

  ‘I fear the Romans may be back, admiral, though at least we gave them a bloody nose.’

  ‘You have given King Akrosas time in which to muster an alliance of Thracian and Dacian tribes,’ he said, ‘and I will ensure that he does not waste it. The news of the Roman reverse will spread like wildfire through the kingdoms and I will make sure that the king fans those flames.’

  He put his cup down on the small side table in front of us. ‘And you, King Pacorus, what will the hero of Histria do now?’

  ‘He will return home, admiral.’

  Akrosas, wearing fresh clothes and now more at ease with himself following his night of penance in the Temple of Apollo, proclaimed two days of celebrations for the city’s residents. The royal stores were opened so that food could be distributed to the population. The royal treasury purchased all the fish that had been landed during those two days and also gave them to the residents. The priests of Apollo and Bendis gave thanks in their temples and the king and queen gave a magnificent feast for the kings who had accompanied him on his expedition against the Romans.

  There had been a touching scene when Cleon had been reunited with Hippo, the two of them sobbing as they held each other in their arms. A less inspiring sight had been the appearance of an irritable and drunk Athineos who had been released as part of a general amnesty decree issued by Akrosas for minor offenders. I found the captain in his room in the palace, slumped in a chair with his head in his hands and feeling very sorry for himself.

  ‘I am a captain without a ship or a crew,’ he muttered. ‘The last of my shipmates have deserted me and taken service aboard some Greek merchant vessel.’

  He reeked of self-pity as well as wine.

  ‘First of all stop drinking so much. You smell like an alehouse. Second, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You still have your health and your wits.’

  He regarded me with bloodshot eyes. ‘If you came here just to lecture me then you have my permission to leave.’

  He took another large gulp of wine from the kylix that he drained and refilled.

  ‘I came here to inform you that good fortune lies just around the corner for you, Athineos, though you might not know it. Because of you I have been able to fulfil what I regarded as a sacred quest. That being the case, I am in your debt and I always pay my debts. Therefore I desire you to accompany me back to Parthia so that you may be rewarded. I know the loss of your ships was a cruel blow so I wish to recompense you for your misfortune. So what do you say, Athineos?’

  I heard a snore and saw his head slumped forward, the kylix dangling from his limp hand. He had fallen asleep!

  ‘The gods give me strength.’

  A more attentive audience was Cleon and Hippo. The day after the banquet, when Radu and Draco were preparing to leave Histria with their men, I visited the makeshift hospital where Hippo had continued with her duties. Despite the smell of blood and guts and her gore-covered apron she still looked alluring, her dark brown eyes full of enticement. Alcaeus was very flustered and barely acknowledged me as I walked between the rows of lacerated and broken bodies. Cleon was loading soiled straw into a wheelbarrow, Hippo beside him.

  ‘This is no place for you, majesty,’ she said when I approached.

  ‘When you have seen as many battlefields as I have, lady,’ I replied, ‘this place appears mild by comparison.’

  Cleon stopped shovelling blood-soaked straw.

  ‘You will be leaving soon, majesty?’

  I nodded. ‘That is why I came.’

  ‘To say goodbye?’ there was sadness in Hippo’s eyes.

  ‘To say that I desire both of you to come back to Parthia with me.’

  Cleon was surprised. ‘Parthia? What is there for two Greek exiles, majesty?’

  ‘A new and fulfilling life for you both,’ I told them. ‘You are free to make your own choices, but if you come back to Parthia with me I promise that you will no longer be exiles.’

  Hippo looked at her beloved. ‘I do not understand, majesty.’

  I placed a hand on both their shoulders. ‘All I ask is that you
trust me. At the very least in Parthia you will not have to look over your shoulders out of fear that a Roman arrest warrant will be served on you.’

  I looked around at the dozens of groaning, mutilated men lying on the ground.

  ‘A high priestess should not have to toil in such a place as this.’

  She smiled sardonically. ‘Artemis is still angry with me, I think.’

  ‘If that was true, Hippo, then she would not have permitted you to leave Ephesus. She has a plan for you, for you both, and I am the agent of that plan.’

  After the celebrations the city returned to normal. Akrosas invited Gallia and me to take refreshment with him and Rodica on the palace balcony. As we sat beneath sunshades to be served by bare-footed slaves in pristine white chitons Akrosas waved forward a thin, middle-aged man who had been loitering in the corner of the balcony.

  ‘This is Captain Hestiodorus, King Pacorus, who will take you and your people to Pontus. I have commissioned him and his ship and will allocate funds from the treasury so that you may purchase horses for your journey back to Parthia after you have landed in Pontus.’

  ‘You are most generous, lord king,’ I said.

  He waved Hestiodorus away, the latter bowing deeply as he retreated from our presence.

  ‘I don’t suppose I could persuade General Domitus to remain at Histria?’ enquired the king mischievously. ‘He would be well rewarded and I would make him my high general.’

  I laughed. ‘I fear he misses his children too much, majesty.’

  ‘His children?’

  ‘The soldiers of the army he has raised for me,’ I told him. ‘He oversees them like a jealous mother hen tends to its chicks.’

  Akrosas smiled at his wife.

  ‘A great pity. I could use the advice of such a man. I fear the Romans may return.’

  ‘They may, lord king, but your victory has given you time to organise the defences of this kingdom and form an alliance between Thracians and Dacians. There is strength in unity.’

  The rest of the afternoon was spent in polite conversation, Rodica questioning Gallia about Claudia and our quest to find and free Burebista.

  ‘And he will return to Parthia with you, King Pacorus?’ asked Akrosas.

  ‘He will. I intend to make him a senior commander in my army,’ I said with satisfaction.

  The next day we took our leave of Akrosas in the palace before being escorted by Arcathius from the citadel to the docks. The streets were filled with traders and citizens going about their business, small children marching alongside us and even one or two stray dogs. There was a slight easterly breeze that freshened the air, which became decidedly salty as we approached the harbour. The fish market was already bustling, baskets of fresh catch being purchased from the boats that had landed them. Merchants were overseeing bulk purchases for salting and smoking and tax collectors haggled with irate captains who pleaded poverty. By the amount of baskets of fish that filled the quay I doubted that poverty was a threat to any of the captains of Histria’s fishing vessels.

  As well as the original seven of us that had travelled from Dura our number included the grumbling, irritable Athineos who was at least sober and who had made a partial effort to tidy himself up. We reached Captain Hestiodorus’ ship, a merchant vessel with two masts, one amidships, the other at the prow. It was also equipped with oars.

  ‘It is a merchant galley,’ Arcathius told me. ‘The king chose it especially because its combination of sails and oars will get you across the Black Sea more speedily.’

  ‘The king is most generous,’ I said.

  We had few belongings, having lost our possessions in Ephesus, and we carried our swords strapped to out belts and our bows slung over our backs. Akrosas had provided us with fresh clothes and spare footwear, and had even given us full quivers for our journey, though I hoped that we would not have need of them. As the others filed up the gangplank I waited on the quay for the rest of our party. Minutes later Cleon and Hippo appeared, both of them looking cleaner and happier than they had appeared in the hospital.

  ‘If your offer is still open then we would like to accept passage to Parthia,’ said Cleon.

  ‘We have no home and our only friends are departing on this ship,’ stated Hippo pitifully.

  ‘When you walk up that gangplank,’ I told them both, ‘your new lives begin.’

  Hippo dazzled me with a smile and Cleon looked relieved and grateful as he followed his high priestess up the wooden platform. There were only two left. I began pacing up and down on the flagstones as slaves began to load the ship with food and water. Towards the stern of the vessel Arcathius chatted to Hestiodorus, both of them leaning on the gunwale as they watched the supplies being brought aboard. Then I saw them – Burebista and Anca – and joy gripped me. I walked up to them, grinning like a child.

  ‘We are not coming, lord.’

  Burebista’s words struck me like arrows.

  ‘Not coming? Why?’

  ‘I, that is we, wish to return to Dacia, lord,’ he said softly. ‘I never thought that I would see freedom again, let alone Dacia, but I wish to return to my homeland. King Decebal has promised me a position in his army.’

  Disappointment enveloped me like a thick fog.

  He looked uncomfortable, even ashamed. ‘I hope you do not think ill of me.’

  Part of me wanted to berate him for his ingratitude and to order him aboard the ship. Did he not know that I offered him power, position and riches if he so desired? But then I was ashamed. Ashamed that I could think such thoughts. What were riches and position compared to the greatest prize of all – freedom? Had I freed him from the Romans only to make him my slave? I placed a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘How could I think ill of my finest dragon commander? You must follow your heart, Burebista.’

  The anger and disappointment melted away and were replaced by great sorrow because I knew that I would never see him again. But he was a Dacian and his homeland was but a few days’ ride from Histria.

  ‘During my years of slavery,’ he said, ‘the thought of freedom and seeing Dacia again kept me alive. Then they were dreams but now they are reality, thanks to you, lord.’

  I insisted that they both went on board to say their farewells to the others. I remembered a time, in Italy, when Gallia had been scathing about Burebista but now she embraced him fondly and wished him well, Anca too. When they had finished saying their goodbyes I kissed Anca on the cheek and embraced Burebista like a brother. He was my brother, a brother-in-arms. As Arcathius said his farewells and the ship was pushed away from its moorings and the rowers dipped their oars in the harbour’s water to take us out to sea, I stood on the stern and raised my hand to Burebista and Anca as they stood on the dockside. I kept my eyes on them until they were barely discernible shapes in the distance and then vanished altogether.

  ‘The gods be with you both.’

  ‘That’s the thing about freedom. Those who have it often do what you do not want them to do.’

  I caught site of Domitus’ short, thick fingers being placed on the gunwale beside me.

  ‘Are you disappointed, Pacorus?’

  ‘A little. But Burebista must follow his heart. At least we gave him the opportunity to do so.’

  I looked at him. ‘By the way, King Akrosas asked me if you would be prepared to stay on at Histria as his high general, a task for which you would be handsomely rewarded.’

  ‘What did you tell him?’

  ‘I lied and told him that you were far too valuable to lose.’

  He spat over the side. ‘Is there any chance of turning this boat around?’

  The combination of oars, sails and no cargo except for us meant that the ship achieved a good speed as it headed east towards Pontus. It looked like a trireme but the captain explained that its pointed prow made cutting through the water easier and was not for ramming. As we got under way Athineos rediscovered some of his old enthusiasm. No doubt being back at sea reinvigorated him as h
e lectured us on the ins and outs of shipbuilding. Apparently the ship’s hull was caulked, which meant that it was covered with a mixture of pitch and beeswax so it was waterproof. In addition, the underwater surface of the hull was sheathed in lead as a protection against sea worms.

  ‘The thin lead plates are nailed over a layer of tarred fabric using lead-dipped copper nails,’ he informed us as we sat on the deck in the sunshine. ‘You see cargo ships are normally always kept afloat rather being hauled ashore like warships, so without the lead sheathing the worms would eat away the hull.

  Gallia and Hippo had been given the small cabin at the stern of the ship, the rest of us and the crew sleeping on deck in tent-like structures that were erected at night when we pulled into shore. There were twenty oars on each side of the hull, each one powered by a rower. Though they were free men the conditions inside the hold were very cramped and because it was also very hot the rowers sat at their oars in only their loincloths.

  The summer was nearing its end but the winds were fair, the sea calm and so we made good progress, hugging the southern Black Sea coastline as we journeyed east towards our destination: the port of Trapezus. Hestiodorus was a talkative fellow and each day, as the linen sails billowed and the oars dipped in the blue sea, I visited him at the stern as he steered his ship. After being happy that we were finally travelling back to Parthia I became concerned that we were heading for a Roman port, Pontus having submitted to the Romans following the death of Mithridates.

  ‘There is no need to worry, majesty,’ he said, gripping the steering oar as seagulls glided on the wind overhead, ‘Pontus is now a Roman client. There aren’t any Roman soldiers in the country, at least not yet.’

  ‘Are you sure?