Parthian Dawn

by Peter Darman

  ‘What are you going to do now, son of Hatra?’

  Dobbai was beginning to annoy me. She was like an old crow sitting on a post, cawing away to no purpose.

  ‘Whatever I shall do will be no business of yours,’ I snapped.

  We were on the palace terrace, overlooking the river, and Dobbai rose from her chair to stand leaning on the stone balustrade, looking south.

  ‘Of course an old woman has no business telling a king what to do, though perhaps in this instance you might like to listen to my advice.’

  I handed Gallia the letter and she began reading it, perhaps thinking that if she saw the words they would tell a different tale.

  ‘What advice?’ I said coolly.

  ‘The Romans are settling scores with their old enemies, Armenia and Pontus. They have no quarrel with Parthia. Yet.’ She raised her arm and pointed towards the south. ‘That is where the greatest immediate danger lies.’

  I waved my hand at her. ‘The greatest danger lies to the east. Narses has Ctesiphon surrounded. That is why we are marching to its aid. I do not need a lecture on strategy.’

  Dobbai smiled at me. ‘Perhaps Narses is marching upon you, son of Hatra.’

  I was just about to order her from my presence when a guard walked on to the terrace and bowed.

  ‘Messenger in the throne room, majesty.’

  I followed him, and moments later was confronted by a tired and frightened soldier who had obviously ridden hard to get to Dura. His face was caked in dirt and his shirt soaked in sweat. He was panting hard and barely able to speak, so I ordered that a chair be brought for him and water to relieve his thirst.

  ‘Calm yourself,’ I said. ‘You are no use to anyone if you collapse and die.’

  He drank greedily from the cup, which was refilled from a jug held by one of my guards. He sat with his hands on his legs for a few moments, then rose and bowed his head.

  ‘Thank you, majesty,’ he said as I sat down in my chair on the dais, Gallia and Dobbai joining me. The latter had her own chair beside mine, now that she had appointed herself my official adviser. The messenger looked admiringly at Gallia, who wore a mask of solemnity, and alarmingly at Dobbai.

  I leaned forward. ‘Please continue.’

  ‘I was sent by King Vardan, majesty.’

  ‘King Vardan is marching north?’ I asked him, suddenly feeling that things were not that bad, for if Babylon’s army was heading north then I and my father could link up with it and our combined forces could then march to the relief of Ctesiphon.

  ‘No, majesty,’ replied the messenger. ‘Part of the army of Narses has marched south towards Babylon. King Vardan will not be able to aid you until he has defeated this force.’

  ‘I see,’ this was news that I had not wished to hear. Still, the army of Hatra and Dura combined would still be a force to be reckoned with.

  ‘There is something more, majesty.’

  I had a feeling that I was not going to find what he was going to say agreeable. ‘Continue.’

  ‘There is another army marching north to Dura.’

  I stood up in alarm. ‘What army?’

  ‘The army of King Porus of Sakastan, majesty.’

  I immediately sent riders to the lords summoning them to Dura. After they arrived I convened a council of war. Before he had left us, the soldier from Babylon had told me that Porus was just over a hundred miles from Dura, marching along the eastern bank of the Euphrates.

  ‘Ten days’ march from us then, give or take,’ said Domitus, his arms folded across his chest as he looked at the map of the Parthian Empire on the wall of the antechamber. Sitting around the table were Rsan, Godarz, Nergal, Domitus, Gallia and Dobbai, while the score of Dura’s lords stood around the walls. I had my back to the map, while Malik and Byrd were standing beside the door. If any of the lords had an objection to Malik being present none said so, though the looming threat of Porus probably diminished any prejudice any of them felt towards him. From the map all could see that Sakastan was on the eastern borders of the empire, north of Carmania and to the east of Persis.

  ‘How many in Porus’ army, majesty?’ asked one of them, a man in his forties with a scarred face and pale grey eyes.

  ‘Vardan’s man estimated around thirty thousand.’

  A murmur went round the room then all eyes were upon me. I stood up.

  ‘It seems we have two choices. We can either stay here and wait for Hatra’s army to reinforce us.’

  ‘By which time Porus might be banging at Dura’s gates,’ said Dobbai.

  I ignored her. ‘Or we can march south and fight Porus before he reaches us here.’

  ‘You will be outnumbered four to one,’ said Godarz, rubbing his chin. ‘Tough odds.’

  There was silence. I saw that several of the lords were looking down at their feet, no doubt weighing up our chances in their minds. I caught Domitus’ eye, who smiled at me. I knew what he was thinking — fight a defensive battle and let the army of Porus break itself on the cohorts of his legion. But it had not yet been tested in battle, was it good enough? Then I remembered who had trained it. I nodded back at Domitus.

  ‘Very well,’ I said, ‘this is my decision. We will march south and fight King Porus. We leave at dawn.’

  Byrd had recruited a handful of Malik’s people to act as scouts, and they and their prince left the city while it was still dark, galloping across the pontoon bridge and then south towards our enemy. I watched them go for I managed to sleep only a couple of hours that night. I shared breakfast with a withdrawn Gallia dressed in mail shirt, leggings and leather boots on her feet, her dagger tucked into her right boot. Her sword lay in its scabbard on the table where we picked at bread and fruit. I would have preferred her to stay in the city with Godarz, but arguing would avail me nothing so I did not try. In any case I needed her hundred Amazon archers, and I knew that she would never agree to them going without her at their head. I kept going over the numbers in my mind — five thousand legionaries, two hundred cataphracts and around two thousand two hundred horse archers against thirty thousand. Long odds indeed.

  Gallia stood, buckled her sword belt and picked up her helmet.

  ‘Time to go.’

  Her Amazons were waiting in the courtyard, mounted and fully armed with bows and swords. Praxima held the reins of Epona as Gallia embraced Dobbai and then mounted her horse. My cataphracts did not wear their armour and neither did their mounts, for a long march would serve only to tire both man and beast. Instead they carried lances, round wooden shields covered in leather sporting a red griffin and wore their full-face helmets. I wore my Roman helmet, cuirass and spatha. I mounted Remus and nodded to Godarz, Rsan and Dobbai standing on the palace steps, then trotted from the Citadel. Vagharsh was carrying my standard behind me. The city’s streets were beginning to stir with activity as we rode under the stone griffin at the Palmyrene Gate and wheeled right to take the road that went over the pontoon bridge. Already the legion was snaking south along the road that ran parallel to the eastern bank of the River Euphrates.

  We covered twenty miles on the first day, the legionaries marching six abreast and the cavalry covering their flanks and the rear. Nergal organised an advanced guard of horse that rode five miles in front of the army, and beyond them rode Byrd and Malik and their scouts, returning to us each night as the camp was being erected. They saw nothing the first day, nor the day after when we had covered a further twenty miles. The lords thought it most amusing that Domitus and his men built a camp at the end of each day, into which was crammed the wagons, mules and men of the legion. I ordered that everyone, including their lordships, should also camp each night within its earthworks, which made it very cramped but very safe. And each morning the wooden fence that was erected on top of the earth rampart was dismantled and the individual pieces of wood loaded onto mules to carry them to the site of the next camp.

  On the third day, as the evening sun was dipping in the western sky, Byrd and Malik thundered int
o camp and rode up the main avenue to halt before Domitus’ command tent, which I had taken over for the purposes of the campaign.

  ‘Enemy ten miles to south,’ was all Byrd said as he splashed his face with water from a metal basin on the table.

  ‘Thousands of foot soldiers, plus many horses and elephants,’ added Malik.

  ‘Elephants?’ I said.

  Byrd wiped his face with a cloth. ‘Fifty or sixty at least, all with towers on top of them carrying soldiers.’

  Twenty minutes later the war council convened in my tent.

  ‘What’s an elephant?’ asked Gallia, who looked pale and tired.

  ‘A big ugly beast, lady, with a long nose that looks like a snake and huge white tusks either side of it,’ said one of the lords.

  ‘Twice the height of a man,’ added Nergal. ‘Horses do not like them.’

  ‘Don’t worry about them,’ said Domitus nonchalantly.

  ‘Are they marching this way, Byrd?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, but pace is leisurely, like a stroll.’

  ‘Very well.’ I looked at all their faces. ‘Tomorrow we will stand and fight them. We will anchor one of our wings on the river. That way they will not be able to outflank us where the water is, and the Euphrates is too wide and deep for them to cross, so there will be no chance for them to attack our rear. When we get to our position tomorrow I will explain our plan of battle more fully.’

  They were in high spirits as they filed out of the tent. Domitus pulled me to one side as the others left.

  ‘I’ll need a few dozen pigs and some tar.’

  ‘Pigs, tar?’ I was confused.

  ‘Yes, you know, bitumen. Send Byrd and his scouts to go and buy some from a local farmer. Think you can arrange that?’

  ‘Yes, but why?’

  He winked at me. ‘Trust me, it will be worth the effort.’

  He departed, whistling, while I sidled over to Gallia and put my arm round her waist.

  ‘Are you sure you’re well. You look pale.’

  ‘Of course I’m pale, I’ve got blonde hair and blue eyes. Or would you prefer a dark-skinned eastern woman to warm your bed?’

  She removed my arm and marched from the tent, back to her women. Before battle she preferred the company of her fellow female warriors, and as their leader she wanted to ensure that they were fully prepared for the next day. Tonight was no different, though when I visited her as she was sitting round a fire with her Amazons, she was still in a snappy mood.

  ‘I’m fine, Pacorus, just pre-battle nerves.’

  Whatever it was, it certainly was not that. Before and during battle she had ice-cool nerves. I let the matter rest, kissing her tenderly before I left her with her warriors.

  The new day dawned slightly humid, and even before his legionaries had started to form up into their centuries Domitus was at my side, reminding me about the tar and pigs. So I gave Byrd two leather pouches full of money and told him to scour the immediate vicinity and purchase what Domitus required. They were easy enough to find as the area was littered with farms, though many farmers were taking their families and livestock north to avoid Porus and his army. Those that Byrd came across that morning were richly rewarded with silver for their pigs.

  I walked to the river with Domitus, Nergal and Dura’s lords. The day was overcast but pleasantly warm for the new year was still young. The river, deep and wide at this point, flowed gently towards the Persian Gulf. Around us, the legionaries were being marshalled into their battle positions. There was much joking and coarse language as centurions shoved and cajoled their men into their places. Their faces showed determination not alarm, and I was confident that they would perform well in this, their first battle. Standing fifty paces or so in front of the five cohorts extending from the riverbank, I looked south. Still no sign of the enemy.

  The ground where we were standing was a patchwork of fields and shallow irrigation channels, though these would offer little impediment to elephants or foot soldiers. On our left flank, beyond the last cohort, there were no irrigation channels and the ground was flat and largely featureless aside from a few isolated poplar trees. It was good cavalry country. To extend our front, Domitus had deployed his legion in two lines, with five cohorts in each line. The cohorts in the second line were standing behind the gaps between the cohorts in the first line, thus the last cohort on the left flank in the second line actually extended beyond the end of the first line. In this way, should the legion’s left flank be threatened, this cohort could turn and form a line at right angles to the first line to provide flank cover. On our extreme left flank, beyond the legion, the horse archers of Dura’s lords and my cataphracts, both men and horses now fully armoured, were leading their horses into line on foot, for there was no point in sitting in the saddle for hours until the enemy came into view.

  ‘What is your plan, majesty?’ asked one of the lords.

  ‘To beat the enemy,’ I replied, grinning.

  There was a ripple of laughter. ‘The plan,’ I continued, ‘is simple. We let Porus attack us with his elephants, then once we have beaten them, the horse,’ I pointed towards our left flank, ‘will attack their cavalry.’

  The lords looked behind them at the legionaries checking mail shirts, swords and javelins. Then they looked at each other.

  ‘Speak freely,’ I said.

  The one who had described to Gallia what an elephant was did so. ‘Years ago, majesty, I fought with Sinatruces against the Indians and their elephants. The beasts wear armour and steel covers on their tusks. They only use bull elephants in battle, and they are big and aggressive. They will punch through your legion and trample the men underfoot.’

  I looked at Domitus, who now spoke. ‘Don’t worry about the elephants. We’ll use an old Roman trick against them. They won’t even reach my boys.’

  ‘Very well,’ I said, ‘to your positions.’

  The lords walked to their horses, vaulted into the saddles and rode away to their men. Vagharsh held Remus’ reins as I picked up my kontus lying on the ground and with Domitus’ assistance hoisted myself into the saddle. My scale armour felt heavy and I was already sweating. Unlike my men, I did not wear a full-face helmet but retained my Roman helm with its white goose-feather crest. I placed it on my head and looked down at Domitus, who also sported a white crest on his helmet.

  ‘You’re sure you can stop the elephants?’

  He grinned. ‘Quite sure, you just make sure you stay alive.’

  ‘Upon you the battle rests, Domitus. You have to beat off those elephants.’

  He raised his vine cane. ‘We won’t let you down.’

  I raised my hand at him and then nudged Remus forward. I rode in front of the legion, raising my lance as I passed the men. They began cheering and banging their javelins on the inside of their shields, shouting ‘Dura, Dura’, as I rode past them and joined my cataphracts on the left flank. Most of them were lying on the ground resting, as were the lords and their horse archers behind them. Squires fussed around, offering waterskins to men and horses. I too dismounted and took a waterskin from Nergal. Its contents were warm, but I drank some and then gave the rest to Remus. His head, neck and body were covered in scale armour, and fine steel grills protected his eyes. The Amazons sat on the ground in groups immediately behind the cataphracts, Gallia walking among them with words of encouragement. She wore leather boots, leggings and a white blouse under her mail shirt. And like me, the rest of my cataphracts and her Amazons she wore a silk vest next to her skin. If an enemy arrow pierced her mail armour it would fail to go through the silk, a material that is difficult to tear. Instead the arrow would carry the silk into the wound with it, wrapping the material around it as it did so for arrows spin when in flight. Thus by gently lifting the twisted silk and turning the arrow by the same route that it had entered the body, the shaft could be extracted, leaving a small entry hole, though I prayed to Shamash that no arrow would strike her.

  She walked over to me with Praxim
a by her side. Nergal embraced his wife tenderly.

  ‘Well,’ I said. ‘Here we are again, dressed for battle. I thought we had done with war when we left Italy. It seems I was wrong.’

  ‘Do not worry, lord,’ said Praxima, the thought of imminent carnage sparking a glint in her eyes, ‘we will beat the enemy once more.’

  I walked over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘With you beside me I don’t doubt it.’

  Praxima may have been the wife of my second-in-command, but she had never lost the semi-feral nature of character. She revelled in war and thought nothing of killing. I had to confess that she still unnerved me.

  ‘Keep your women close behind my cataphracts,’ I said to Gallia, ‘just like we have practised on the training ground.’

  Around me individuals suddenly began to stir and stand up. I looked round and saw two figures on horseback galloping in our direction. I signalled assembly to be called and seconds later horns were being blown and men were mounting their horses. The two figures slowed as they approached and I saw that it was Byrd and Malik, who halted yards from me and raised their hands in salute.

  ‘Porus come,’ was all Byrd said, before swivelling in the saddle and pointing in the direction he had ridden from. I peered into the distance but could see nothing, but then I heard what seemed like distant thunder, a low, thudding noise.

  I turned to Gallia and held in her my arms.

  ‘Shamash be with you.’

  She smiled. ‘And with you.’

  We kissed and then her perfect visage disappeared behind her helmet as she closed the cheekguards and vaulted on to Epona’s back. My cataphracts formed into two lines as once more I mounted Remus and scanned the horizon. I still could see nothing, but the rumbling noise was getting louder.

  ‘They are about eight, ten miles away, marching this way,’ said Malik, sounding alarmed.

  ‘Many elephants,’ was all that Byrd added.

  Nergal rode up and saluted. He would lead the horse archers this day, who were grouped in a solid block behind my own men.

  And so we waited until the opposing army came into view, though by the time it did so the area was engulfed by the unrelenting din of its kettledrummers on horseback, drummers on foot, trumpeters and horn players. At first the army appeared as a long black line on the horizon, but as it got closer I began to identify its various elements — foot soldiers, horsemen and, towering above everything else, elephants. It took around an hour for the enemy to come into view and a further hour for them to deploy into battle array. And throughout that period we did nothing but wait, for I did not want to interrupt their careful preparations. It was certainly the most colourful army that I had ever seen, a profusion of red, orange and yellow flags and pennants. And all the while the cacophony of noise filled our ears. The captains of the opposing host saw the legion drawn up and deployed their foot to face them, all the while their cavalry — armed with long lances and protected by helmets, hide shields and leather cuirasses reinforced by iron plates — filing into position opposite my horsemen to prevent us launching a charge before their foot was in position. The latter comprised two groups — archers equipped with long bamboo bows the height of a man, which required one end to be anchored on firm ground before they could be fired, and swordsmen dressed in baggy leggings and loose-fitting tunics carrying ox-hide shields. The archers deployed into a dense mass behind the swordsmen, while in front of the foot soldiers lumbered the elephants. I counted at least sixty, each one with its own guard of ten spearmen who walked on either side of the animal.