Carrhae (The Parthian Chronicles)

by Peter Darman

  ‘You see,’ he continued, ‘nothing.’

  Vagises looked at me and smiled. He had been a part of Dobbai’s ritual and had seen the strange events with his own eyes, plus the timely death of Tigranes afterwards and the unexpected withdrawal of Roman forces from Syria, and finally the great victory we had won before the walls of Hatra.

  ‘Perhaps the gods helped you defeat the Armenians in Gordyene and made you King of Gordyene,’ I suggested. ‘Have you thought of that?’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ he sniffed.

  ‘Perhaps because you are resourceful, brave and a great general,’ I replied.

  He looked at the flames in the fire. ‘When men are desperate and at their wits end, when they are afraid and alone, then they will ask for the help of the gods. But only because they have no one else to turn to. They will beg and promise the gods anything to received an answer to their prayers. I know, I was such a person once.’

  He was talking of the death of Viper, no doubt.

  The corner of his mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘But the gods do not answer and in the cold light of day when the one thing you wanted to live has been snatched away, you realise that the skies and mountains are not filled with benevolent immortals but only clouds, mist, ice and snow.’

  He looked at each of us in turn. ‘There are no gods.’

  ‘We all miss Viper,’ said Gallia, and Surena momentarily appeared as a lost boy, enraged with the world but alone and helpless, before his mask of steel returned.

  He nodded at Gallia. ‘She loved you, lady, you and all the Amazons. I thank you for your kindness.’

  It was a touching moment, the more so because Gallia had never liked Surena. But she loved her Amazons and that was one thing that, at least momentarily, had bridged their divide.

  ‘I believe in the gods,’ announced Spartacus, to everyone’s surprise. ‘I have asked them to help me capture an eagle.’

  Surena looked at him. ‘An eagle?’

  ‘A Roman eagle,’ replied Spartacus.

  ‘That is the gift that our young prince here must take to Haytham to win the hand of his daughter,’ I said.

  ‘Princess Rasha,’ stated Spartacus with pride. Gallia smiled at him while Vagharsh shook his head.

  ‘I remember her,’ said Surena, ‘from my time at Dura. She used to visit the palace often. Viper was very fond of her.’

  He looked at Spartacus. ‘And now she is a woman and you are to marry her. My congratulations.’

  ‘If he can take an eagle,’ I said.

  ‘The sacred symbol of every Roman legion,’ added Vagises, ‘and protected by five thousand heavily armed legionaries.’

  Surena looked at Malik. ‘Your father does not mind his daughter marrying one who is not of her own kind, Prince Malik?’

  Malik looked at Spartacus. ‘My sister will not lead our people so he indulges her dreams, believing that they will be unfulfilled.’

  ‘The son of Spartacus may surprise you yet,’ muttered Byrd.

  The next day he and Malik were in the saddle before dawn as we journeyed west once more across a landscape of shallow valleys, rocky outcrops and hillocks. The midday heat was unbearable and so during the hottest hours we dismounted and walked beside our animals to conserve their reserves of strength. I remembered Strabo’s words about Remus not getting any younger and continually checked his body and head for signs of exhaustion, but he appeared to be as hearty and strong as ever. The Amazons took off their helmets and mail shirts and wore their floppy hats. Where we could we rested in the shade of rocks until the heat had abated before continuing our journey.

  After journeying west from the Khabur River for three days, at the end of the third day, as the western horizon was filled with a giant yellow sun that turned the sky blood red, Byrd and Malik galloped into camp and slid off their sweat-lathered horses in front of me.

  ‘We see Roman scouts,’ reported Byrd, greedily drinking from a waterskin offered him by Gallia.

  I handed another to Malik. ‘Where?’

  ‘Thirty miles to the west, near river,’ said Byrd.

  ‘Did they see you?’ I asked.

  Malik nodded as Gallia took the waterskin from Byrd and held it to his horse’s mouth so it could slake its thirst.

  ‘Romani give chase but we outrun them,’ said Byrd.

  During the next hour the rest of their scouts rode into camp and told their stories. Piecing together their reports it appeared that the Roman army was camped in the Plain of Carrhae, directly west of our position, on the western side of the Balikh River. The latter ran from north to south, almost parallel to the Khabur that we had crossed a few days before, and also emptied into the Euphrates.

  The night was surprisingly cool as I sat with the senior officers of Dura and Gordyene to make our plans for the next day. We lit no fires so as not to betray our presence and sat on stools with our cloaks wrapped around us. The sky twinkled with stars and a full moon flooded the land with a ghostly pale light as I stood and addressed those assembled, the grunts and snorts of the animals in the camel park the only noises to disturb the quietness.

  I had mentioned to Surena beforehand about speaking to his and my officers and he was quite happy for me to address them rather than him.

  ‘You are lord high general, lord, after all. Besides, when the King of Dura talks I listen.’

  And so I emphasised to them all that we were not here to engage Crassus in battle.

  ‘That is what he will want: to draw us into an engagement. But we will remain beyond the range of his legionaries’ javelins and their ballista. We ambush their patrols, raid their column when we have chance and generally retard their progress. Above all we must not get embroiled in a battle. We are too few and they are too many.

  ‘If we force Crassus to form battle lines each day then we will drastically reduce his rate of march, which will give Orodes time to impose a peace favourable to Parthia on Armenia and then march back south to meet Crassus. We are here to buy Orodes time, nothing more.’

  They all nodded in agreement, even Surena, giving me confidence that he and his men would adhere to the plan. The soldiers of Gordyene were all professionals and knew that ten thousand horsemen could not defeat an army of fifty thousand Romans, and so did their king.

  ‘When we begin our campaign of harassment against the enemy, lord,’ said Surena, ‘I assume that we will be making night attacks against their camp.’

  I nodded. ‘That is correct. As soon as we lock horns with the enemy we cannot let go, and that means fighting at night, but that will entail nothing more than men on foot shooting at camp sentries from a distance in an effort to sow uncertainty and fear. I do not want Parthians impaled on Roman stakes or lying dead at the bottom of ditches.

  ‘Now get some food and sleep. You will need it.’

  After the meeting I pulled Vagises to one side.

  ‘Your men have been issued with the new arrows?’

  He nodded. ‘We will finally see if Arsam’s new weapons fulfil their promise.’

  ‘I have every faith in my chief armourer,’ I said.

  ‘It has been a while since we faced Romans in battle and twenty years since the last time we fought Crassus. I remember that day in the Silarus Valley.’

  He looked at me. ‘Seems like yesterday all of a sudden. And now we ride into battle against Crassus once again, this time with the son of Spartacus by our side. Let us hope that it is a good omen and hope that his father is watching and grants us good fortune.’

  I laid a hand on his arm. ‘I am sure he is, his mother too for that matter.’

  ‘What do you think he would have made of Surena?’

  I laughed. ‘He would have liked him, I think, but would have kept him on a tight leash.’

  ‘His soldiers are well trained,’ he said, ‘but there is something wild about him. Dangerous. If his men get into difficulties tomorrow they are on their own. I will not sacrifice one of my horse archers to his rashness.’

/>   ‘I think we can trust Surena, Vagises. Remember he was trained at Dura.’

  He nodded unconvincingly and walked off into the night. But I had every confidence that Surena’s men would be more than equal to the test set before them. Their king had been schooled at Dura, had been enrolled in the Sons of the Citadel and had risen through the ranks of Dura’s army. It was no coincidence that his army was organised and trained along Duran lines, right down to the type of horn and trumpet blasts used by his horsemen and foot soldiers. This would make cooperation on the battlefield between our two forces easy and seamless.

  The new day dawned cold and misty. As usual I slept little before facing an enemy and Gallia slept among her women on the eve of battle, so I woke in the pre-dawn darkness cold and alone and exited my tent wrapped in my cloak. Squires were already feeding and watering their masters’ horses and sentries were returning from duty to grab a couple of hours’ sleep before their day in the saddle. I felt the stubble on my chin and desired to wash and shave but would have to forego that pleasure as water was scarce, the nearest supply being the Balikh River where the Roman army was camped.

  ‘You look like a beggar,’ joked Malik as he walked towards me leading his horse, Byrd beside him and their scouts behind them already mounted on their mangy beasts.

  I embraced him and then Byrd. ‘You two take care of yourselves and don’t try any heroics.’

  ‘I too old for that,’ said Byrd.

  ‘I’m not,’ grinned Malik, who looked around. ‘This mist will soon clear. It is going to be a hot day.’

  Byrd hoisted himself into his saddle. ‘For some their last. We will return, Pacorus.’

  He raised a hand and then wheeled his horse away, followed by Malik and the other scouts, all of them disappearing into the grey mist as they rode west.

  The camp became a hive of activity, squires serving their masters meals as they too took the opportunity to fill their bellies with cured meat, biscuits and dried dates, all washed down with tepid water. Each cataphract had two squires and after their meals one youth would saddle his master’s horse and fit it with the scale armour that covered its body, neck and head while the other would assist his master in putting on his scale armour and fixing his mace and axe on the front horns of his saddle. As well as these weapons each of my heavy horseman was armed with a sword made from the Indus steel, a dagger and the mighty kontus.

  An hour after dawn, mist still clinging obstinately to the landscape, the companies of cataphracts and horse archers filed out of camp at a leisurely pace. Behind them came the beasts of the camel train loaded down with spare weapons and arrows and behind them the squires on their horses leading camels packed with tents, cooking utensils, tools, spare clothing and armour.

  As it was still cool every horse archer and cataphract wore his white cloak, while the cloaks of the soldiers of Gordyene were grey. It was eerily quiet, which together with the mist made everyone nervous. Vagises threw out two companies of horse archers as an advance guard and two companies on each flank as we peered into the greyness. After half an hour of slow progress I called a halt to wait for the sun to burn away the vapour. Better that than horses and men falling into a wadi or other unseen natural feature.

  Finally the sun, a pale yellow ball, burnt away the mist and we commenced our march, everyone still wearing their cloaks as it was still unusually cool, compounded by an easterly breeze that blew in our faces. The terrain around us was mostly flat save for a few isolated hillocks, giving excellent all-round views. The mood became more relaxed as we trotted west, secure in the knowledge that the enemy would not surprise us in this open ground. Everyone still had their cloaks wrapped round them as Vagises sent out half-companies ahead to search for our scouts who were beyond the horizon.

  I rode between Gallia and Surena, Vagharsh and Surena’s standard bearer riding directly behind us, their flags encased in wax sleeves, and behind them the Amazons leading the cataphracts. Dura’s horse archers formed the head of the column and those of Gordyene behind them, with the camel train grouped in the rear, along with Dura’s squires. As the morning wore on the wind increased to kick up dust that enveloped the column. The temperature was rising but in an effort to keep out the dust the cataphracts put on their full-face helmets and everyone else wrapped scarves around their faces. No one discarded his or her cloaks.

  Then, suddenly, the wind ceased and the dust abated as the sun beat down on us from a clear sky. We halted and shook the dirt from our cloaks and took the opportunity to drink from our water bottles. It was mid-morning now and I could at last feel the sun warming my body. I patted Remus on the neck. I had decided to wear my leather cuirass and not my scale armour today – there would be no mass charges against the Romans. The cataphracts were in their armour to protect the other horsemen from any attacks from Roman cavalry, nothing more.

  We continued the march but had not advanced two miles when a dozen horse archers came galloping towards us with Byrd and Malik in tow. They careered to a stop in front of us as I gave the order for another halt.

  Byrd raised his hand. ‘Romani horsemen approaching, five miles to west.’

  ‘How many?’ I asked.

  ‘About a hundred,’ replied Malik, ‘but there are other groups of Roman horsemen scouting to the north and south.’

  ‘We will continue our advance,’ I said.

  Byrd and Malik fell in beside Gallia as I saw a dust cloud ahead and knew it presaged enemy horsemen. I gave the order for the cataphracts to deploy into line and called forward Vagises.

  ‘Bring in all your outriders,’ I told him, ‘we do not want to frighten off the Romans.’

  As he rode away to send couriers forward to bring back his scouting parties more of Byrd’s men rejoined us. I sent word to the cataphract company commanders for their men to continue wearing their cloaks, which would hide their scale armour.

  ‘I do not understand,’ said Surena.

  ‘In this sun the light will reflect off the steel on scale armour,’ I replied, ‘thereby alerting our Roman friends that we have heavy horsemen. That might deter them from assaulting us, which we do not want. With any luck Crassus might be tempted to send his horsemen against us, which we can then destroy.’

  But as Vagises’ men returned to the ranks and we continued to trot west the dust cloud in front of us disappeared as the Roman horsemen returned to their commander. After an hour Byrd and Malik once again took their men ahead to discern the Romans’ movements.

  ‘It looks like there will be no fighting today,’ I announced. ‘The Romans will withdraw back to camp and Crassus will ponder his next move. But at least we know where he is and can shadow him from now on.’

  It was getting very warm and so I gave the order that the heavy horsemen could take off their cloaks and also reform into column. They did so and also removed their helmets but they still sweated in their scale armour. The pace was no quicker than a slow walk to save the horses and I was considering ordering a halt when Byrd and Malik returned, their horses sweating and breathing heavily.

  ‘Crassus approaches,’ said Byrd, his face partly covered by a headscarf.

  ‘He has crossed the Balikh River,’ continued Malik.

  ‘Crassus is leading his horsemen?’ I asked with disbelief. Perhaps they were referring to his son, Publius.

  Byrd shook his head. ‘Whole Romani army come, spread across plain in a long line.’

  ‘Horsemen on the wings and the foot in the centre,’ said Malik.

  ‘The Romans will not fight today, Byrd,’ said Gallia, ‘Pacorus has assured us all they will not, thus kindly go and ask them to return to camp.’

  Surena burst out laughing and Vagises smiled.

  ‘Very humorous,’ I said.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ asked Vagises.

  It was now midday and the sun was at its height roasting everything below. But the men were fully armed and in the saddle and the enemy were only a few miles distant.

  ‘We mi
ght entice their horsemen away from the main body yet,’ I said, ‘where they can be whittled down by our horse archers. We advance.’

  But first we halted as officers once again deployed the cataphracts in a long line of two ranks and the horse archers took up position behind them. Surena rode off to take command of his men while Vagises rode at the head of his troops, the drivers of the camel train marshalling their beasts to stay close to their designated companies of horse archers. In total there were ninety one-hundred-man companies of these, each one served by twelve camels loaded with full quivers of arrows. We had an abundance of the latter but I gave orders that the archers were not to be wasteful in their shooting – we might be battling Crassus for many days and would therefore require every missile.

  ‘And that goes for the Amazons,’ I told Gallia who was securing the straps of her helmet’s cheekguards under her chin.

  ‘You are becoming very bossy in your old age,’ she said. ‘In any case my women always hit what they aim at.’

  ‘That may be, but you and they will remain with me today.’

  She turned to Zenobia. ‘He’s frightened that all those hairy arsed Roman soldiers will rape him.’

  Vagharsh laughed aloud.

  ‘Is there any hope that you might one day respect your king and lord high general of the empire?’ I remarked sarcastically.

  ‘Not much,’ he replied.

  With the squires trailing well to the rear our outnumbered forces trotted towards the enemy who now filled the horizon: a great line of black shapes slowly getting larger as the range between the two sides decreased. As Gallia and I rode forward the cataphracts put on their helmets to present an inhuman visage of steel to the enemy and then brought down their lances to grip them with both hands lest the Roman horsemen suddenly charged us.

  For a third time Byrd and Malik left us to gallop ahead as Vagharsh unfurled my banner and the red griffin spread its wings. I felt a sense of elation sweep through me as I turned to look left and right to see a thousand of the empire’s finest horsemen break into a canter as we closed to within half a mile of the Romans.