Parthian Dawn

by Peter Darman

  ‘But Phraates has given Dura to the Romans.’

  ‘Poor Phraates. He is so deceived by his own family members that he has lost all sense of reason, I think.’

  ‘You risk banishment for aiding me, father.’

  He laughed out loud. ‘Look around you, Pacorus. You can see horsemen from Babylon, Elymais, Hatra, Media and Atropaiene. If Phraates wants to make war on all of us, so be it.’

  ‘Aschek is here?’ I was most surprised to hear that the King of Atropaiene had come to assist me, seeing as all the fight had seemingly been knocked out of him.

  ‘Musa and Khosrou persuaded him. They have formed an alliance with him, which has given him back his courage somewhat. By the way, Khosrou sent a thousand of his wild horsemen as well, said they were a gift for Gallia. Where is she?’

  As my father sought out my wife I looked at my heaven-sent reinforcements. The kings had brought only horsemen with them to quicken their journey, but it was enough to match and then outnumber our Roman opponents. My father had brought his fifteen hundred cataphracts and a further seven thousand horse archers; Vardan had brought five thousand Babylonian horse archers and five hundred cataphracts, Aschek a thousand cataphracts and three thousand horse archers, Atrax another five thousand horse archers and seven hundred cataphracts, and Gotarzes rode with a thousand of Elymais’ cataphracts and eight thousand horse archers. Added to this number was Gallia’s gift of a thousand of Margiana’s spearmen come horse archers. Our numbers had been swelled by over almost thirty-three thousand horsemen, and now we outnumbered the Romans, albeit by not a great number. But more importantly, we possessed nearly five thousand cataphracts, a mighty steel fist that would be able to crush the enemy horsemen with ease, leaving their legions to face an endless storm of arrows on all sides as our horse archers swarmed around them like angry bees.

  As these reinforcements were being marshalled into position by an increasingly fraught Vistaspa, who had been selected to act as general-in-chief for the day, the kings assembled around my father and me, while Gallia left the ranks of her Amazons to greet each of them in turn. Thus far the Romans had made no movement but I suspected that it would not be long before they attacked, as the one thing that I had learned about them was that they liked to draw the first blood in battle. Hopefully, though, my unexpected reinforcements would have made their commander pause. We now outflanked the Roman army greatly, especially on the right wing where the cataphracts were deployed, and beyond them the tens of thousands of horse archers extending the line far into the distance. A rider on a black horse came through the ranks and cantered over to where we were sitting on our horses. His horse had no armour but he himself wore a leather helmet with ear and neck flaps and his body was protected by leather armour. He carried a bow, quiver, sword, dagger and a long spear. Sensibly, given the heat in these parts, he wore a white surcoat to stop his armour getting too hot in the sun. He halted in front of us and snapped his head forward in a salute. He had a squashed nose and narrow eyes that were almost like slits. His small mouth was topped by a tidy moustache and had a neatly trimmed beard underneath.

  ‘Hail, majesties. My name is Kuban. My king, Khosrou, has sent me to serve Queen Gallia of Dura. Where is she?’ His tone was terse bordering on aggressive.

  ‘The gift for Gallia I was telling you about,’ remarked my father.

  ‘I am she,’ Gallia nudged Epona forward so that she was facing the fierce warrior from the northern vastness of the empire.

  He took off his helmet and lowered his head. ‘I and a thousand others are here to serve you, majesty.’

  Gallia took off her helmet and stared at him. I could tell that she was delighted with Khosrou’s gift. ‘You and your men are most welcome, Kuban.’

  ‘Kuban,’ I said, ‘you and your men are to form a reserve around the queen and her warriors.’

  Gallia swung in her saddle to look at me. ‘Reserve?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I replied, ‘there are enough Romans to go round today, I think, you will get your turn to fight.’

  ‘As you wish, Pacorus. Kuban, follow me.’

  Gallia wheeled Epona around and rode her back followed by Kuban to where her Amazons were standing. The line was then reordered as the Amazons and Kuban’s men were formed into a block behind the cataphracts. I had no doubt that when the fighting began Gallia would be leading those men against the Romans soon enough.

  ‘Where is your Roman, Pacorus?’ asked Vardan.

  I pointed to a lone Domitus standing around fifty paces in front of Dura’s two legions. ‘Over there, lord.’

  ‘He does not mind killing his own kind?’ asked Gotarzes.

  ‘No, lord,’ I replied, ‘he’ll kill anyone given the chance.’

  At that moment Nergal arrived. He bowed his head to the kings.

  ‘The lords are most eager to attack the enemy, Pacorus. They are chafing at the bit, especially now we have greatly increased our strength.’

  ‘I have no doubt,’ I said, ‘but you must restrain them until the heavy cavalry strikes first.’

  I turned to the kings. ‘Lords, and friends, I think it is time to take up our positions.’

  ‘What is your plan, Pacorus?’ asked my father.

  I had thought to let the Romans attack us, but now we possessed so many cataphracts I saw no reason not to hit the enemy first.

  ‘The plan is simple. The cataphracts will scatter the Roman horse opposite to allow the horse archers to surround the Roman foot. When you see Dura’s heavy cavalry move forward, that is the signal to attack.’

  With over forty thousand horse archers even eight Roman legions would have their hands full dealing with us. I decided to ride over to Domitus and inform him that he would now be the army’s reserve, and would be held back until the Romans had been sufficiently weakened.

  ‘What is that?’

  Aschek was pointing to the south and soon everyone else was peering in that direction. I too turned to look, and saw that another army had come to northern Dura. The southern horizon was filled with black-clad figures riding camels and horses, many armed with spears and carrying round shields. There were thousands of them. A lone horseman left their ranks and galloped towards us, passing by the ranks of Dura’s lords. The latter began cheering as he did so and I knew then that yet more allies had come. The horseman kept on riding until he reached me, his mount careering to a halt in a cloud of dirt and dust.

  ‘Greetings, Malik,’ I said.

  ‘Hail, Pacorus.’ He pointed at the seething black mass to the south. ‘Behold, my father, King Haytham, brings his army to fight by your side.’

  I reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘You and he are most welcome. This is a great day, when our two peoples are united in the face of a common foe.’

  In truth, the other kings sitting in silence were facing an awkward moment. The Agraci had been the sworn enemies of the Parthians for many decades, and yet, even though there had previously existed open warfare between Haytham and Dura’s lords, the latter were now cheering the arrival of their former foes. Nothing lasts forever, it seems. Eventually my father broke the silence.

  ‘Hail, Prince Malik, you and your father are true friends to my son, and as his father I thank you both for your aid.’

  ‘Well,’ grunted Gotarzes, ‘what now?’

  The Agraci had halted at right angles to our own left wing and faced the right flank of the Roman army, which was now vastly outnumbered. Once again a silence descended over the plain.

  ‘Now, my lords,’ I said, ‘I think it is time to see if the tongue can achieve more than the sword.’

  I nudged Remus forward and began to walk him into no-man’s land between the two armies.

  ‘Is this wise, Pacorus?’ I detected concern in my father’s voice behind me.

  ‘Have no fear, father, we have the Romans’ attention. I’m sure they will be most interested in what I have to say.’

  As I moved closer to the enemy I raised my right arm
and then halted some two hundred paces from their front ranks.

  ‘Romans,’ I shouted, ‘my name is King Pacorus and I would speak to your commander, General Pompey.’

  I received no answer in reply, just the steely gaze of hundreds of helmeted legionaries who stood in their ranks holding their pilum in their right hands and their shields on their left sides. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a couple of minutes, and then a burly centurion shoved his way through the ranks and strode up to me. He could have been the twin brother of Domitus, with his lean face and stern countenance, his transverse crest on his helmet and his mail shirt adorned with round discs.

  ‘You must dismount, sir.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You must get off your horse, sir, and then the Great Pompey will speak with you.’

  ‘Does he not own a horse?’

  The centurion frowned. ‘He does, sir, but you might try to kidnap him and ride away with him.’

  I burst out laughing, which increased his frown. This was absurd.

  ‘Very well, centurion, I will do as you ask.’ Then I added mischievously. ‘I hope you are not thinking of kidnapping me.’

  For a split-second I thought I saw a hurt look on his face. ‘Of course not, sir.’

  I dismounted and stood a few paces from him.

  ‘There you are.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I will also need to hold your horse, just for security reasons, you understand.’

  I shook my head and handed him Remus’ reins. ‘There he is. Don’t frighten him, say something nice to him, stroke his head. He likes that.’

  As soon as he took Remus’ reins he raised his right arm and then stood to one side, standing statue like. A few seconds later the ranks opened again and a tall, stocky individual appeared and walked towards me. He was bare headed and had a round face with small lidded eyes. His nose was slightly bulbous and he had a thick mane of hair on his head. His clothing marked him out as a man of some importance. He wore a large red cloak that was fastened at the right shoulder by means of a large silver broach. On his feet he wore red leather enclosed boots tied with black leather laces. Over his white tunic he wore a black cuirass not dissimilar to the one I wore. I estimated his age to be around forty.

  I took off my helmet and bowed my head to him. He bowed his head in reply and smiled.

  ‘So, at long last I meet King Pacorus, the Parthian who dresses like a Roman and,’ he looked past me to where my legions were lined up, ‘fights in the Roman fashion.’ His tone was serious though not mocking.

  ‘I like to think that I have combined the best of Parthia and Rome, lord.’

  He looked at the army arrayed against his own. ‘I had been informed that Dura’s army was small and insignificant, but it seems that I have been deceived.’

  ‘There are other kings of the empire present, lord, and they will fight to preserve Dura’s territorial integrity.’

  ‘I do not doubt it.’ He then looked to the south where they Agraci were gathered. ‘And those?’

  ‘More friends of Dura, lord.’

  He turned to look at his own men and then once again fixed his eyes on the Parthian host standing opposite.

  ‘Do you think you can win, Pacorus?’

  I looked directly at him. ‘Of course.’

  He looked thoughtful. ‘I have claimed Syria for Rome, and vowed in the temple of my forefathers that I would make the Euphrates the eastern border of Rome’s domains.’

  ‘Tabaqah is on the Euphrates, lord, so you have fulfilled your oath. But I have to tell you that you will have to destroy the army behind me if you wish to advance any further.’

  ‘But where is Dura’s border?’ he asked.

  I stepped away from him and raised my hand at the cataphracts opposite, specifically Surena. I pointed at him and beckoned for him to ride over to me. The centurion looked alarmed and drew his sword.

  ‘I attempt no ruse, centurion. You can easily strike me down before he arrives.’

  Pompey indicated that his subordinate should put away his sword. Surena trotted over and I ordered him to give me his kontus. I took the long lance and then dismissed him. I turned it upside down and then drove the point into the ground with all my strength.

  ‘This is where the kingdom of Dura ends.’

  Pompey nodded and then held out his right hand. ‘Your sword, centurion.’

  The centurion saluted and placed the handle of his gladius in Pompey’s palm, who then rammed the blade into the earth next to the upright kontus.

  ‘And this is where Roman Syria ends.’

  I looked at him suspiciously.

  ‘You do not trust me?’

  ‘I meant no offence, lord, it’s just that my experience with Romans has not been a happy one.’

  His lips creased into a smile. ‘I believe that you were once a guest in the house of Marcus Licinius Crassus.’

  I thought back to that opulent home on one of Rome’s hills. ‘That is correct, lord. His hospitality was beyond reproach, and then he led an army against me.’

  ‘I think my great rival bears you a grudge.’

  His rival? That was a positive sign, at least.

  ‘He has taken your escape from Italy as a personal affront and is determined to rectify it. Your killing his protégé will not have helped, I might add.’

  ‘And you?’ I asked.

  ‘I, Pacorus, serve the interests of Rome. Looking at the army arrayed against me, I think that Rome’s best interests will be best served by a diplomatic solution to this situation.’

  ‘I will never yield Dura to anyone while I live.’

  ‘I can see that,’ he said. ‘Tell me, out of curiosity, is your queen here?’

  I smiled. Gallia’s fame had certainly spread far and wide. ‘She is here, lord.’

  He nodded. ‘You may be interested to know that in Rome Queen Gallia has become something of a celebrity among the fine ladies of the city.’

  ‘I find that difficult to believe.’

  ‘You are wrong,’ he reproached me. ‘They say that she was the real reason Spartacus managed to survive for so long, that she led his horsemen and that she even told him what to do. They like the idea of a determined woman, and one of royalty too. I believe she was a princess of Gaul?’

  I laughed. ‘I thought I was the commander of his horsemen. But yes, she was a princess of Gaul, now a queen of Parthia.’

  ‘Myths spread quicker than the truth, Pacorus, and I have to admit I have encouraged and indulged these stories.’

  I was confused. ‘Why?’

  ‘To annoy Crassus, of course. His triumph against Spartacus diminishes somewhat if people believe the slaves were led by a woman.’

  It comforted me to learn that Rome was riven with rivalries just as Parthia was.

  ‘This all very interesting,’ in truth it was not, ‘but what about Rome’s intentions here, today?’

  ‘I decide Rome’s intention, and today I have settled the eastern border of Roman Syria.’ He held out his hand. ‘Do you trust the word of a Roman?’

  I had just cause not to trust any Roman, and yet I felt that this Pompey was a person in whom one could place confidence. The fact that he was no friend of Crassus was a recommendation in itself. I took his hand.

  ‘I trust the Roman who stands in front of me.’

  ‘Good, that is settled.’ He looked at Remus. ‘A fine horse.’

  ‘Remus? Yes, we have travelled far together.’

  Pompey eyed me quizzically. ‘Remus? You are a strange one, Parthian.’

  He turned smartly and ordered the centurion to follow him back to his army. The Roman soldier handed me Remus’ reins and marched behind his commander. I vaulted into the saddle and rode back to the kings.

  ‘What now?’ asked my father.

  ‘Now we see if I have made a miscalculation,’ I replied.

  For what seemed like an eternity nothing happened, and then a cacop
hony of trumpet calls rang out from the Roman ranks. As one the cataphracts to my right and left lowered their lances in preparation for a charge, but then the Roman cavalry opposite us wheeled about and began riding away, showing their backs to us, while in the centre the legionaries about-turned and also began to retreat. It was the same on the opposite flank where Nergal commanded the lords. The Romans smartly wheeled about and rode away. I sensed a tide of relief sweep through me and my body began to relax. Around me men began shaking hands with their neighbours as the realisation that there would be no fighting this day rippled through the ranks.

  ‘Hail, Pacorus,’ said Vardan.

  Gotarzes put his own unique slant on the day’s events. ‘Whatever you said must have scared him shitless.’

  My father reached over and laid his hand on my arm. ‘This is your greatest victory, Pacorus.’

  ‘But no blood has been spilt,’ I said.

  He smiled. ‘Exactly, my son, exactly. Well done.’

  Gallia came from behind me and stopped by my side.

  ‘So how did you do that?’

  In front of us the Romans were disappearing into a great cloud of dust kicked up by thousands of hobnailed sandals and horses’ hooves.

  ‘I like to think that my charm had something to do with it.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

  Domitus came running over, sweat pouring down his face and neck.

  ‘We’re not going to fight them, then?’

  ‘Not today, Domitus,’ I replied.

  He looked at Pompey’s army gradually diminishing in size to the west. ‘It’s not too late to attack them, given that all these fine lords have made the effort to get here.’

  I looked at him, then at my father, who wore an alarmed expression.

  ‘No, Domitus, I shook hands with Pompey and we agreed each other’s border.’

  Domitus took off his helmet and wiped his brow with a cloth. ‘Spartacus was right, that honour of yours will get you killed one day.’

  I smiled. ‘But not today, Domitus, not today.’

  He put his helmet back on and pointed at the Romans. ‘They will be back, Pacorus, you can be sure of that.’