Parthian Dawn

by Peter Darman

  ‘Of course, that’s where you have been isn’t it, mapping out the ground upon which you will fight your battle?’

  I must have looked surprised.

  ‘You may be a king, Pacorus, a man whose fame has spread far and wide, but you are still my son. The answer is no.’

  Disappointment swept over me, though I tried to remain composed. ‘You know that there will be a battle.’

  He was still pacing. ‘You wish there to be a battle. I wish for the rebellion to be brought to an end.’

  I held out my hands. ‘Are they not one and the same thing?’

  My father stopped pacing and banged his fist on the table. ‘No, they are not! Narses has to defeat us to win this war. When he sees the might of Hatra, Babylon, Mesene and Dura arrayed against him, his nerve will falter.’

  I stood up and placed the cup back on the table. ‘You are wrong,’ I said.

  I left then without saying another word. But I was not finished yet. I rode to the palace and asked for a private audience with Phraates. In his study once more I requested that Enius and his five hundred cataphracts be placed under my command during the coming march. If it came to a fight I promised Phraates victory, just like the one over Porus. I knew that he regarded me highly at this time and I played on that. When he reminded me that his son, Mithridates, who had been ‘tricked’ by Narses, was with the enemy army, I lied and told him that I would make it my priority to rescue his son, if I could but borrow his heavy horsemen. And so he gave me Enius and five hundred cataphracts. Gotarzes did not need any convincing and so readily agreed to add his two hundred cataphracts to my own, on the condition that he would fight by my side. He too wanted to find Mithridates, ‘So I can chop off the little bastard’s head.’ I readily agreed to his offer.

  The army marched east the following day, each king leading his own contingent with supplies loaded on to camels, wagons and mules following behind. The whole mass resembled an entire people on the move. Dura’s horse and foot were to the south, the legion marching behind my cataphracts and Nergal’s horse archers. All of the lords had provided their own scale armour for themselves and their mounts, so I added their number to my total of heavy cavalry. They trusted Nergal to lead their archers now — there is nothing like victory to boost confidence and morale, and I reckoned Dura’s army to be the best among the disparate elements that had rallied to Phraates. The worst, of course, was the rabble under Chosroes, but it did not matter. In the coming battle the army of Mesene would serve only to make up the numbers. Immediately north of my army was Vardan and his Babylonians. I liked Vardan and his daughter, but he was a close friend of my father so I had not asked him for his heavy horse. In the centre of the columns rode Phraates with the remnants of the army of Elymais and the troops of his own household, including Enius and Orodes. Beyond him were Chosroes and his motley band, while on the northern flank marched the army of Hatra — fifteen hundred cataphracts and nine thousand horse archers. Five thousand of the latter, the professional troops, had scale armour on their chests and helmets on their heads, for my father’s kingdom was the richest in the land and could afford to lavish its army with the best equipment. The rest comprised the retinues brought to Hatra by those landowners whose estates were nearest the city.

  We marched for most of the day at a leisurely pace until we reached the flat expanse of desert which I had previously visited with Byrd and Malik, and where we would fight the army of Narses.

  The Battle of Surkh was about to begin.

  Chapter 11

  That night we camped under a clear, star-lit sky. A myriad of campfires extended as far as the eye could see as I rode to the pavilion of Phraates for a meeting of his war council. In the distance a red glow filled the horizon — the fires of Narses’ army. Palace guards were standing around the royal enclosure every ten paces, while inside a small army of servants attended to the high king’s needs. The retinue of the King of Kings for this campaign was large indeed, in stark contrast to the modest expedition made to Media earlier. I was just thankful that Phraates had left his wife behind. The pavilion itself was oblong in shape, its roof supported by four rows of tent poles, each one at least twenty feet high. Beside each one was posted an armed guard dressed in a blue tunic, baggy yellow trousers with a spear and wicker shield. The soldiers wore felt caps on their heads. I smiled when I saw them, for I was sure that Domitus would have been most unimpressed by their uniforms and armament. The pavilion itself was divided into a number of sections: first, the reception area where I left my sword and dagger; this led into the area where the king’s throne was positioned on a dais. This section was voluminous and accommodated chairs, couches and tables, and it was here that the kings were assembled. I saw my father and nodded. He nodded back, while Gotarzes and Orodes greeted me warmly. Also present were Vardan and Chosroes, the latter looking most agitated at the thought of the approaching slaughter.

  Trumpets blasted, servants drew a large yellow curtain back and Phraates emerged from his private quarters located behind the throne area. He was dressed in a blue silk tunic and leggings with his crown upon his head. We bowed our heads as he made his way to the dais and sat on his throne. Enius and Orodes remained either side of him and we took our places in a line before him.

  ‘Well, gentlemen, here we are at last. Tomorrow we face Narses. I must stress again that it is not my intention to destroy Narses, as he is also a king of the empire. Lord Enius will now give you your battle positions.’

  Enius walked over to a table, upon which had been placed carved wooden models of horsemen, each of which carried a flag sporting a different emblem. I saw the banners of Hatra, Dura, Mesene, Babylon, Elymais and Susiana. It was a quaint touch. They had been arranged in a line opposite other models depicting the enemy. We all gathered round the table as Enius pointed to horseman carrying the banner of the white horse’s head.

  ‘Here, King Varaz and the army of Hatra will secure our left flank. Next to Hatra’s army will deploy King Chosroes and his forces, with King Vardan and the might of Babylon next in line. The army of Susiana will reinforce the centre, led by King Phraates himself.’

  Phraates nodded. In truth his was not much of an army as the bulk of it was in the enemy camp under Mithridates. Yet we had the legitimate King if Kings on our side and that was important.

  Enius pointed to the right flank. ‘The right wing will comprise the forces of King Pacorus and King Gotarzes, and that concludes our deployment.’

  After the council my father met me as Remus was brought into the pavilion.

  ‘You take care tomorrow, Pacorus.’

  I embraced him. ‘You too, father.’

  He looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face. ‘Do not provoke a fight tomorrow. Narses must be brought to account, but better to talk him into submission. Phraates does not want this war prolonged.’

  ‘Of course not, father. I guarantee that is my desire also.’

  ‘Until the morrow, then.’

  ‘Until tomorrow.’

  It was late when I called together the officers of my army. They crowded into my tent and gathered around me in a semi-circle, Nergal, Domitus, Byrd, Malik and my lords. They all accepted the presence of Malik now without question; indeed, they chatted to him as if he was a friend. Domitus, scarred, muscled and eyes full of fire faced me dressed in his tunic and a pair of sandals, clutching his gladius in its scabbard with his right hand.

  ‘I will make this brief. Tomorrow we fight Narses on this ground. Byrd tells me that he outnumbers us two to one.’

  ‘At least,’ growled Byrd.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ I continued. ‘We will deploy on the army’s right flank in the morning, horsemen on the extreme end of the line. Nergal, your horse archers will distract those opposite you while I take the cataphracts around their flank.’

  ‘What about my legion?’ asked Domitus.

  I smiled at him. ‘You, my friend, will deploy your legion in two lines and attack the enemy, str
aight at their centre.’

  ‘Who will be on my left flank?’ Domitus’ eyes narrowed.

  ‘The Babylonians,’ I replied.

  ‘And they will attack when we do?’

  I laughed. ‘Domitus, believe me they will have no choice but to follow you.’ I looked at their faces in the half-light of the oil lamps that flickered on their stands. ‘Remember, we must finish this tomorrow. My father’s cavalry is on the left flank of the army and they will easily defeat what is against them. If we triumph on the flanks it does not matter what happens in the centre.’

  They murmured their agreement, some slapping their comrades on the back.

  ‘Shamash be with you all. Now get some sleep.’

  Dawn came all too soon and with it the sounds of an army preparing for battle. Squires rushed around with swords and armour for their masters, ill-tempered mules and camels spat and growled as their drivers tried in vain to get them to obey their commands, and thousands of soldiers checked their weapons and equipment for what could be their last day in this life. I slept perhaps for two hours before I woke when it was still dark. I held Gallia’s lock of hair in my hand and caressed it, praying that I would see her beautiful face again. If not, I hoped for a good death so that she would think of me with pride as I waited for her in heaven. After she had left the army an armourer had fixed her lock of hair onto a chain I kept around my neck. Now I tucked this into the silk vest next to my skin. Over the vest I wore a white shirt and loose, brown leggings, with red leather boots on my feet. My suit of scale armour hung on a stand beside my cot; I would not put it on until I was ready to ride into the battle line.

  Domitus shared breakfast with me, a spartan meal of biscuit, porridge, fruit and water. He wore his centurion’s mail shirt adorned with discs and his helmet with its white transverse crest. As usual he had brought his vine cane.

  I pointed at the cane now lying next to us on the table. ‘Going to beat the enemy with that, Domitus?’

  ‘If they are as ragged as the lot that follows Chosroes, I might do just that.’

  Outside the tent I could hear the curses and complaints of soldiers being marshalled into their ranks by centurions. Soldiers really were the same the world over.

  ‘Remember, deploy your men in two lines today to extend their frontage,’ I said. ‘When I give the signal, I want you to charge straight at the enemy.’

  ‘You are going to start the battle?’

  ‘Yes, straight at them. The time for talking is over. I will be attacking on the right flank while you are assaulting their centre.’ He nodded.

  ‘And Domitus?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Stay alive.’

  He stuffed another biscuit into his mouth. ‘You too, Pacorus.’

  Mercifully, the day was overcast as I rode at the head of my horsemen out of camp an hour later. Domitus and his legion had left earlier and were already moving into their battle positions, five cohorts in the first line and five in the second. Each cohort was made up of six centuries, each century comprised of eighty men drawn up in eight ranks of ten men. I never understood this designation because the Latin word centum denoted one hundred, whereas the century actually numbered eighty men or thereabouts. A cohort’s battle formation comprised three centuries in the first line with the other three directly behind.

  As our army was forming into line the contingents of Narses were doing likewise. Great numbers of horsemen, both archers and spearmen, were deploying in front of where my cataphracts were lined up behind me. The warriors in front were dressed in leather armour and hide caps. Those carrying spears clasped hide-covered shields to their bodies, while the horse archers wore no armour as far as I could discern. I also spied groups of cataphracts among their ranks dressed similarly to our own. In the centre, between the two wings of enemy horsemen, was the foot. Narses must have emptied the Zagros Mountains of all the hill men who lived there, for such a seething press of men I had never before seen. They resembled a vast black lake that had suddenly been thrust upon the desert floor; hordes of axe men, spearmen, archers, slingers and others carrying clubs and knives. Those who carried shields were banging them with their spear shafts; others were screaming curses at our men opposite, or whooping and cheering at the tops of their voices. Directly opposite my horsemen, kettledrummers were beating their instruments with gusto. The enemy horsemen spread far beyond my flank, perhaps for half a mile or more.

  Gotarzes rode up with his cataphracts with Orodes beside him.

  ‘There’s thousands of the bastards, Pacorus,’ said Gotarzes, who reined in his horse beside Remus as his men formed up on the right of my own.

  ‘Indeed, the combined might of Narses, Phriapatus of Carmania, Vologases of Drangiana, Cinnamus of Anauon, Monaeses of Yueh-Chih and Mithridates himself.’

  ‘Hail Pacorus,’ Orodes bowed his head to me. He fell in next to Gotarzes.

  ‘Good to see you my friend,’ I said. ‘Today we’ll get your kingdom back.’

  ‘My kingdom?’

  ‘Susiana,’ I replied, ‘you don’t think that your father will want your brother sitting in Susa after he has rebelled against him, do you?’

  ‘But my brother is king,’ said Orodes.

  ‘Not if he’s dead he isn’t,’ I said quietly.

  Gotarzes heard me and smiled, though Orodes was out of earshot. ‘I did not hear, lord.’

  ‘It does not matter, the main thing is that you are here.’

  A blast of horns announced the arrival of Enius and his five hundred riders who swept around the back of my own cataphracts and formed into line to the right of Gotarzes’ armoured riders. Around two hundred paces behind us, sitting on the grass and busily chatting among themselves and consciously ignoring the enemy, were Dura’s lords and their two thousand horse archers. Enius trotted up and saluted to Gotarzes and me. His arrival was the signal for Nergal to join us, who rode up and faced us with his back to the enemy. The cacophony of noise coming from the latter showed no signs of abating and I had to shout to make myself heard.

  ‘Nergal, when I give the signal gather your horsemen and assault the enemy opposite. Pepper them with arrows but don’t get too close. If they advance, you retreat, but you must keep on annoying them to fix their attention on you.’

  Nergal turned in his saddle and looked at the masses of enemy horsemen facing him. ‘They will undoubtedly attack us, lord.’

  ‘I know, but if they do, like I said, withdraw but keep on harassing them. Now go.’

  He galloped back to his men, who by this time were in their saddles and mustering around their lords. They didn’t have the discipline of my cataphracts or legionaries, but it did not matter. As long as they stayed in the field, shooting at the enemy and did not get drawn into a melee, then they would prove their worth.

  The wall of noise coming from the enemy’s ranks showed no sign of lessening as I rode forward to admire the view, for it was not often that the kings of the empire arrayed their forces in one spot. Next to the legion I spied the purple-clad foot and horse of Babylon, and beyond them the ill-equipped hordes of Chosroes, and in the distance, just visible on our left flank, magnificent in their white tunics and scale armour, the horsemen of Hatra. I saw Phraates sitting on his horse immediately behind the Babylonians alongside Vardan, both kings flanked by mounted spearman and a phalanx of huge axe men standing directly in front of them. Almost exactly opposite Phraates, across the empty space of ground between the two armies, was Narses himself, the handsome, ruthless rebel leader. I could not see his face from this distance but I could see that he was mounted on a large black horse. He wore an armoured cuirass that shimmered in the light, for now the sun’s rays were lancing through the breaks in the clouds. Narses wore a steel helmet with a red crest and was surrounded by all the other kings in his army, judging by the standards that were being held behind his entourage. And on his flanks and behind him there must have been at least five hundred cataphracts. Narses and his horsemen looked magnificent an
d intimidating in the centre of the enemy’s front rank, but they were in entirely the wrong place. For which I thanked Shamash.

  Then the noise coming from the opposition’s ranks began to diminish, until after perhaps five minutes it had completely died away. An ominous silence then descended over both armies as Narses and a group of riders slowly walked their horses forward beyond the front ranks. Immediately behind him his great banner fluttered in the wind — a great yellow flag sporting the black head of Simurgel, the bird-god of Persepolis. So, perhaps he was going to talk after all. I smiled to myself. The time for talking was long past; it was time to fight. I kicked Remus forward to take me about fifty paces beyond our line then halted him. I saw Domitus standing a few paces in front of his legion and lowered my kontus towards the enemy. I kept it there until he raised his hand in recognition of my signal, then I rode back to my horsemen.

  Seconds later there was a blast of trumpets and then the whole legion began moving forward. Screams and shouts erupted from Narses’ army, while he himself hurried back to the safety of his densely packed soldiers. And then what I had hoped for happened. Their blood up and expecting an easy victory, the enemy foot opposite Domitus and his legion charged. It was not a disciplined advance but a feral rush of maddened men who wanted to wash their weapons in the enemy’s blood. And so they ran as fast as they could in a disorganised mob to close the gap between the two armies as ten of my cohorts marched briskly forward.

  In such an encounter discipline, not weight of numbers, holds the key to victory. The legionaries in the front ranks of the first line centuries carried no javelins but advanced with their swords drawn, the fearsome gladius held ready to stab upwards into thighs and bellies. The men in the rear ranks behind them carried their javelins at the ready. Then the legion’s trumpets blasted once more and the men charged, maintaining their order as they did so. And when the two sides crashed into each other the rear ranks in each century hurled their javelins over the heads of their comrades in front. The front ranks of the legion buckled under the ferocious onslaught of Narses’ foot soldiers, but they held. And then the killing began. Legionaries in the front ranks smashed their shields into the enemy, their shoulders behind their shields as men collided at a run. Javelins flew overhead and felled hundreds of the enemy before they even got close to the legionaries, and then the enemy mass thickened as more and more men raced forward to get to grips with Domitus’ soldiers, but this worked against them because all it did was push their front ranks onto the swords of the legionaries, who kept stabbing upwards repeatedly. Enemy soldiers, their thighs and bellies oozing blood, fell to the ground and were stepped on by a man behind, whose belly was also soon gushing blood as a gladius found its mark. And so the slaughter went on, but it was entirely one-side as the soldiers of Narses were turned into offal. The mass charge had also entirely negated the influence of the enemy slingers and archers, who were reduced to the role of useless bystanders.