Parthian Dawn

by Peter Darman

  ‘He’s right,’ said Domitus, his face and arms now turned dark brown by the Mesopotamian sun. ‘I’ve talked with some of them. All good soldiers who have spent years fighting.’

  ‘How do you know they are good soldiers?’ I asked.

  ‘Any man who leaves his homeland, tramps hundreds of miles with his shield and spear to get here instead of giving up and opting for an easy life as a bandit, gets my vote.’

  We usually held our council meetings inside the palace, but today I decided that we would all sit on the spacious terrace overlooking the river. It was late afternoon and the sun was casting long shadows, a slight westerly breeze taking the edge off the day’s heat. We sat in large wicker chairs, while Gallia, who had taken to attending the meetings now that she rode little, reclined on a couch. She liked to be included in the affairs of the kingdom and no one had any objection to her doing so. Dobbai was also present on this occasion, though only because she found the view agreeable and the temperature bearable at this time of day.

  Domitus rubbed his hands over his shaved head and fixed me with his eyes. I knew what he was thinking — two legions were better than one.

  ‘How many exiles from Pontus have presented themselves thus far?’ I asked.

  ‘Near two and a half thousand.’

  I stared across the river at Hatran territory. ‘And more are coming in?’

  Domitus nodded. ‘Every day. We can increase the size of the camp. We need more tents, that’s all.’

  I looked at him. ‘Very well. I agree, see to it. Godarz, you will organise extra rations, clothes and weapons to be sent to the legion’s camp.’

  Godarz saw the confused look on Rsan’s face. ‘The king means to have two legions instead of one. Is that not so, Pacorus?’

  Rsan’s face went ashen. ‘Two legions?’

  ‘That’s right,’ I replied. ‘It would be criminal to waste the opportunity that has presented itself.’

  Rsan started shaking his head. ‘But the cost…’

  ‘Will be met,’ I said. ‘The treasury is full, is it not?’

  ‘Yes, majesty, but if it is to remain so then I would advise against such an expenditure.’

  ‘And when the Romans come,’ interrupted Dobbai, ‘what will you do, tallyman? Throw coins at them from the walls?’

  Rsan was now alarmed. ‘Romans? We are not at war with the Romans.’

  Dobbai cackled like an old crow. ‘Not yet, tallyman, but they will come.’

  ‘And when they do we shall be ready, have no fear, Rsan.’

  My words did little to assure him.

  ‘So,’ I continued. ‘Domitus shall raise two legions, Nergal is forming his horse archers and I shall have my additional cataphracts. Due to Gallia’s condition, Nergal, it is probably best if you command the Amazons.’

  Gallia rose from her couch. ‘The Amazons are under my command.’

  Nergal looked down at his feet and Domitus stared into the distance.

  ‘Time to reconsider, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai.

  Gallia stood defiant and I knew that she would not shift from her position. I shrugged my shoulders. ‘As you wish, my dear.’

  Gallia smiled and retook her couch. ‘Praxima will command my women until I have given birth. She will answer to me and me alone.’

  With Rsan still smarting from the news of a second legion, I informed him that I also wanted to establish a school in the city.

  ‘We have schools already, majesty.’

  ‘Yes, but this one will be different. It will be filled with the future officers of Dura, boys who will receive an education in the military arts, so that when they are men they will be able to lead others in battle. They shall be called the Sons of the Citadel.’

  ‘Parthian boys are taught to fight from an early age anyway, lord,’ said Nergal.

  ‘To ride and shoot a bow, I agree, Nergal. But I want boys to be taught tactics and strategy, to be able to converse with foreigners in their own tongue.’ I pointed at Domitus. ‘To know how many miles a legion can march in a day, and how to work in conjunction with foot soldiers on the battlefield.’

  ‘I doubt if there any tutors in Dura who can teach those subjects,’ offered Godarz.

  I stood and started pacing the terrace. ‘Then we will bring them to Dura, Godarz. Greek and Egyptian scholars, Roman engineers, Chinese philosophers and holy men from Judea, Esfahan and Alexandria.’

  ‘But why, majesty?’ asked Rsan.

  ‘Dura,’ I said, ‘is prosperous. But what shall we do with that wealth, Rsan? Squander it on rich furnishings and gold statues, live a life of ease thinking that it will last forever? It will not. So we prepare, Rsan. We lay the foundations for a time when this kingdom will need its people and army to stand as one against adversity. A building with strong foundations stands more chance of surviving an earthquake.’

  ‘You speak well, son of Hatra,’ remarked Dobbai. I looked at the blank expression on Rsan’s face. He could not see my reasoning. But then, on this beautiful summer’s day with the sun slowly sinking in the west, a light breeze to stir the air and peace in the land, it must have been difficult to imagine horror. But I knew that if a kingdom wanted to remain strong it had to prepare for war.

  And so it was. Every day exiles from Pontus, hard men with scarred faces and wounds from a score of battles, made their way to the legion’s headquarters in the Citadel. There they signed their names or made their mark agreeing to serve in Dura’s army. They served for pay, but it was not loot that had motivated them to walk all the way from Pontus to fight for me, it was revenge. They wanted a chance to kill more Romans. And they were all single men for those with wives and families stayed in their homeland and lived under Roman rule, or most likely were dead or had been enslaved. When they signed up they did so before Domitus, though surprisingly not one objected to serving under a Roman, for like them he too was an exile. In any case all of them had heard the stories of the prowess of Dura’s legion and its Roman commander, and they also knew that Domitus had served under Spartacus in Italy.

  The armouries continued to work night and day, every day, week after week, month after month, producing swords, javelins, mail shirts, helmets, arrows, bows, maces, axes, scale armour for horses and men and the mighty kontus. Inside the brick buildings men worked with hammers, anvils, grinders, shears, vices and hole punches, while furnaces and bellows heated the steel that was hammered into shape to become sword blades.

  Godarz enlisted so many armourers, blacksmiths, steel smiths, artisans, carpenters and saddle makers that we were forced to locate them to a campsite two miles north of the city. A large collection of tents sprang up near the river, and every day hundreds of men and some women made their way to their workplaces within Dura’s walls. The original garrison of the city, those score men who had greeted me on my arrival, were either paid off or given the opportunity to enlist in the new legion. Thereafter the guarding of the city, the Citadel and the area around Dura was the responsibility of Godarz. He and Domitus worked out a system whereby cohorts were rotated through the city to perform garrison duties, being replaced every month by a new cohort. In this way no legionary became used to the comparatively soft life of being a garrison soldier, which usually entailed nothing more than spending hours standing on sentry duty or patrolling the streets. With Haytham’s permission Domitus took the legion out on manoeuvres deep into Agraci territory, and days later I took my cavalry out of Dura to hunt it down. Malik and Byrd accompanied me, though it did not require any tracking skills to discern the path made by five thousand foot soldiers, nearly seven hundred mules and two hundred carts. We gave them two days’ start and then rode out to find them, five hundred heavy cavalry and their squires and a thousand horse archers led by Nergal. Praxima also brought her Amazons and a thousand camels trailed the host burdened with food, water and tents.

  These exercises were always an excellent opportunity to keep the legion and my cavalry battle-ready. I always tried to make a mock assault
on the legion at the end of the day, when the legionaries were constructing their camp for the night. Hours spent marching in full kit with packs is mentally and physically draining, and I thought that fast-moving horsemen stood an excellent chance of getting in among the legionaries. I was always proved wrong. And no matter how loud we blew our horns or how fast we charged, we always met a solid wall of shields, around which we galloped and hurled abuse at the ‘enemy’. And afterwards legionaries and horsemen shared an evening meal and Domitus told me how our approach had been seen from miles away.

  ‘Hundreds of horses kick up a big dust cloud. You never learn, you horse boys.’

  The next day the legion and cavalry practised working together amid the heat, dust and flies. At first it was not easy. Roman tactics almost always placed cavalry on the wings in battle, but I wanted Dura’s army to be more flexible. So we spent time perfecting drills whereby the cataphracts and horse archers would retreat through the legion’s cohorts, who would endeavour to close ranks the moment the horsemen had passed through them. At first it was chaos, as cataphracts and horse archers rode between the gaps in the first-line cohorts, only to come up against a solid wall of shields of a cohort in the second line, as the legion’s second line was always drawn up in such a way that the cohorts covered the gaps of the first line. The front rank of riders pulled up and halted and those behind them did the same, so that in minutes there were hundreds of horsemen between and among the cohorts, shouting and cursing at the legionaries. Had it been a real battle the enemy would have had been hacking and spearing stationary riders with ease.

  Nergal got very angry and jumped from his horse to confront the commander of the cohort whose men stood like a rock in front of his riders. The centurion strode towards Nergal and I thought they were going to clash swords, until the centurion removed his helmet and Nergal recognised him as one of the Companions, a great burly German named Thumelicus who lifted Nergal off the ground while giving him a bear hug. But the episode had revealed a major problem, which was solved by introducing a new drill whereby each cohort in the second line divided into two halves upon a specific trumpet blast, each group moving left and right respectively to deploy directly behind a cohort in the first line. This meant riders could ride though the first and second lines, which would close the gaps as soon as they were through. It took many weeks to perfect but I knew it would pay dividends in battle.

  As the year waned Gallia went into labour. Beforehand Alcaeus moved into the palace to be near at hand when it was time to deliver the baby. Gafarn and Diana also arrived from Hatra. I had written to Gallia’s closest friend to ask her to come to Dura, for I knew that her presence would have a calming effect on proceedings, and hopefully would also have a calming effect on me. I confess that as the time approached I grew agitated, more so than before any battle. I knew that women died in childbirth, died screaming in agony as their insides were damaged beyond repair as their unborn child came into the world. Claudia, the wife of Spartacus, had died from loss of blood after giving birth to her son. I had been present on that terrible night, and suddenly I feared for my wife.

  ‘She is in good hands,’ said Alcaeus, laying a hand on hand on my shoulder. ‘It is normal for a father to feel nervous, especially on the occasion of his first-born.’

  Dobbai cackled behind him. ‘Greater powers than he wields will determine whether good fortune attends the mother and child.’

  ‘Good medicine and a clear head will help them both, I think,’ said Alcaeus, frowning at the unkempt old woman who scuttled around our bedroom with cases in her arms.

  ‘What are they?’ I asked.

  ‘The lords of your kingdom may be merciless killers but they fear the gods, as should you, son of Hatra.’

  I discovered that she carried gold and silver cases, presents from Dura’s lords, each of which contained prayers to protect our child from evil spirits and diseases. Dobbai placed them at the foot of the bed.

  Other gifts arrived at the Citadel, including a chest from my parents that contained a large amount of Esfand seeds, which were stored in white silk bags, around which were arranged gold and silver coins. The burning of Esfand wards off evil spirits and curses.

  Dobbai nodded her head approvingly. ‘Very wise, your mother is very wise. You have made many enemies, son of Hatra, and they would like nothing more than the death of your child and the ruin of your kingdom.’

  Dobbai supervised the carrying of the chest into our private quarters, insisting that only those I trusted should be allowed to touch it. So Domitus, Nergal and Gafarn carried it into the palace to our bedroom. This was the first time that Gafarn had met Dobbai, and while Nergal and Domitus said nothing and did what they were told, Gafarn took exception to this ugly old woman giving him instructions. His reward was a fierce rebuke.

  Dobbai jabbed a long, bony finger at him. ‘Silence, king of Hatra, lest I weave a spell that shrivels your balls to nothing and turns your woman against you.’

  Gafarn grinned at me. ‘You trust this old hag? She thinks I am your father.’

  I said nothing. Dobbai’s finger was still pointed at him. ‘I did not say you are the current king of Hatra, but the crown will sit upon your head, that is, unless someone lops it off your shoulders before then. Now make yourself useful or go play with the snakes and scorpions in the desert.’

  As Domitus and Nergal placed the chest on the floor at the foot of our bed, Gafarn shook his head at Dobbai.

  ‘Silly old witch, my brother is the heir to the throne, not I.’

  Dobbai smirked at him. ‘How little you know, spawn of the desert, for your brother does not want Hatra’s crown. He will never leave the griffin’s side.’

  Gafarn, clearly bored, waved an arm at her and left the room. At that moment a bird, a stork, landed on the balcony outside the bedroom. It walked on the stone floor for a few seconds, stopped, peered at us all standing like statues looking at it, and then spread its wings. It then flew onto the balustrade, regarded us once more and then flew away.

  Domitus looked at Nergal and raised an eyebrow. Alcaeus frowned and I looked at Dobbai for reassurance. She nodded at me and smiled.

  ‘A good omen, son of Hatra, fortune will follow your child. The gods favour her.’

  Alcaeus dismissed it as ‘nonsense’, but I noticed that thereafter he was much more relaxed than he had been, and Nergal immediately went off to inform Praxima about the auspicious sign, who then informed Gallia and Diana, who were in the latter’s bedroom avoiding the commotion as Dobbai prepared the birth chamber.

  Domitus slapped me on the arm as he departed. ‘Venus is smiling on you, Pacorus.’

  ‘Who’s Venus?’

  ‘The Roman goddess of love,’ he said as he departed.

  Two days later Gallia went into labour. Mercifully it lasted only four hours and then I had a daughter. Afterwards Diana washed Gallia and Alcaeus cleaned the baby as Dobbai scooped up the afterbirth and poked it with a needle to frighten away any evil spirits that might harm the child. She then took the afterbirth out of the room and gave it to a waiting Domitus, whom she had ordered to attend, who was instructed to go beyond the city walls and bury it deep in the earth in an unmarked spot, together with a piece of charcoal to keep scavengers away.

  I held my daughter in my arms and kissed her gingerly on the forehead. She had blue eyes and fair hair, though not as blonde as her mother’s, and her skin was slightly olive in colour. Gallia smiled at us both. Dobbai came back in the room and took the child from me. Her touch and manner was remarkably gentle as she quietly chanted prayers to ward away evil. My daughter was wrapped in a pure white linen gown called a peerahan e ghiyamat, meaning ‘dress of resurrection’, and on her head was placed a small scarf, in which was fastened a blessed pin to frighten away evil spirits for forty days. Dobbai then opened a small clay pot, inside of which was blessed clay from the city of Karbala. Dobbai touched the clay with her forefinger then placed the finger in the baby’s mouth, muttering prayers
as she did so. Alcaeus rolled his eyes with contempt, but Dobbai caressed the child’s head with her hand and smiled at Gallia.

  ‘All is well.’

  That night I slept on the bedroom floor, though in truth I closed my eyes little. Gallia, tired from her exertions, thankfully did sleep. When the morning light crept through the shutters my back ached and my mouth was bone dry. Dobbai entered without knocking attended by Diana, and they both sat by the bed until Gallia awoke. Diana put her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek while Dobbai inspected the child. Assured that my wife and daughter were in safe hands, I stepped outside the room to go to the kitchens. Outside the door were two guards, legionaries in full war gear carrying javelins, while guards also lined the walls of the corridor. There were more guards in the throne room, banqueting hall and on the steps outside the palace. There was also double the number of guards on the walls of the Citadel and at the gates, which were closed.

  Domitus, his eyes surrounded by black rings and his face unshaven, walked up and saluted.

  ‘You look terrible.’

  ‘No sleep last night. Too busy.’

  ‘Let’s get some food,’ I said. ‘Why all the guards? Are we under siege?’

  ‘Dobbai wanted the whole Citadel ringed with guards to ward off evil spirits.’

  ‘I thought I was king here.’

  ‘Best not to mess with things that we don’t understand,’ he said, extending his hand. ‘Congratulations, we are all thrilled that Gallia and the baby thrive.’

  I took his hand. ‘Thank you, my friend.’

  Dobbai insisted that the Citadel was closely guarded for forty days, during which time the child’s ears were pierced on the sixth day, a day that was particularly dangerous for mother and child I was informed. On that day the evil spirits were at their most malevolent, so Dobbai fashioned a long piece of cotton that was blackened at regular intervals with charcoal for protection. Called a mohr, she hung pieces of it around our bedroom. Then the Esfand seeds were burnt in a metal container on a chain, along with camphor, till nothing remained but ash. Then Dobbai took the container and blew the fumes towards Gallia and the baby, and then in the six directions — north, south, east, west, up and down. Once the ash had cooled Dobbai used it to make beauty marks between Gallia’s eyebrows, her palms, breasts and feet. Two pieces of thread, one white, the other blue, were twisted around each other to make a bracelet, which was then placed around Gallia’s right wrist. Then the baby’s eyes were darkened with ash. Thus were my wife and child protected from demons, curses and malevolent influences.