‘Parties are sweeping the city now. All gates are sealed and no one can get in or out. The men are searching every home, business, temple and storeroom, and I’ve ordered more men from the camp.’
He glanced at Gallia. ‘Most likely they will have rented a room or rooms and will be lying low until they make a run for it.’
‘See to it that they don’t escape,’ hissed Gallia. She had Godarz’s blood on her dress. Domitus noticed it but said nothing. He stood to attention, saluted and then marched from the room, leaving us alone with our grief.
Dura was a well-defended city surrounded by a circuit wall with a total of twenty-four towers, plus the Palmyrene Gate, spaced at regular intervals along the wall. Each tower had its own detachment of men who would be lining the wall to ensure no one scaled it from the city side. Five hundred men manned the walls and towers and a further five hundred garrisoned the Citadel. Added to these were the detachments of Dura’s horsemen stabled in the city – more than enough to catch a pair of assassins, or so I hoped.
The new day began to dawn and still we remained on our thrones and waited for news. I had messages sent via carrier pigeon to Palmyra to alert Malik and Haytham of what had happened, and to ask them for their assistance to track down the pair should they escape from Dura. Domitus organised searches of the trade caravans camped to the north of the city. All traffic using the pontoon bridges was stopped. Domitus even sent small boats north and south on the Euphrates to search for the pair.
Orodes came soon after dawn. He lived in his own house in the north of the city, a great walled residence that also housed his bodyguard – two hundred and fifty men from the Kingdom of Susiana. As soon as he heard the news of Godarz’s murder he and his men had helped Dura’s garrison search the city. Unshaven and looking tired, the first thing he did was embrace Gallia and kiss her on the cheek.
‘You look tired, Gallia.’ He noted her bloodstained dress. ‘You should try to get some rest.’
She smiled faintly. ‘Alas, lord prince, if I close my eyes all I will see is the murder of Godarz. I therefore prefer to keep them open.’
Orodes nodded grimly. ‘Well, at least let us refresh ourselves. You too, Pacorus. You both look terrible.’
He organised fruit juices, bread, cheese and sweet meats to be brought to the palace terrace as Gallia and I changed our clothes and washed our faces. When we returned Dobbai was sitting in her chair. Orodes was speaking to her as a wan Gallia slumped into a chair beside her. In the east the sun was an angry red ball as it began its ascent into the sky. Dobbai said nothing to Gallia as I walked over to the table and helped myself to a cup of juice. I poured another and handed it to Gallia. I took my seat next to her and then all four of us sat in silence for a while. Dobbai spoke at last.
‘So Mithridates shows his hand at last.’ She turned to Orodes. ‘Your brother has learnt patience, it would seem.’
‘My stepbrother,’ Orodes corrected her. He was always quick to inform all and sundry that he and Mithridates did not have the same mother, his being a concubine in the palace at Ctesiphon whom his father Phraates had fallen in love with. The mother of Mithridates, Queen Aruna, had had her poisoned, or so rumour had it.
‘But why now?’ asked Orodes despairingly.
‘Is it not obvious?’ replied Dobbai. ‘Now he and his brother-in-evil Narses are ready to implement their plan.’
‘What plan?’ I asked.
Dobbai held out her hands. ‘I do not know. But I do know that the death of Godarz will begin tumultuous events within the empire. He also knows this, though of course he would have preferred your death rather than your governor’s.’
‘I will march on Ctesiphon,’ I announced, ‘and bring back the head of Mithridates to adorn the entrance of Godarz’s mansion. The head of Narses too, a fitting tribute to Godarz. This is my vow.’
‘And that is exactly what they want you to do, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai, ‘to march at the head of your army into their trap.’
‘What trap?’ asked Orodes.
Dobbai raised her face to the heavens. ‘I have tried, I really have, to counsel you, son of Hatra, so you can carry out the wishes of the gods and keep the empire strong. But you have seen fit to ignore my advice.’
‘That is unfair,’ I replied. ‘I have always respected your views.’
She fixed me with her black eyes. ‘Have you? I told you years ago to kill Mithridates, yet you chose to ignore me. He will only be satisfied when you are dead and he is the unchallenged king of kings.’
‘He is king of kings,’ I said in exasperation.
‘In name perhaps,’ said Dobbai, ‘but it is well known that you openly challenged him to march on Dura and take the city by storm. The longer you remain king here the more he is seen as impotent.’
‘If he and his assassins had killed Pacorus,’ said Orodes, ‘he must have known that King Varaz, his father, would have marched against him. And Hatra has allies in Babylon and Media, to say nothing of Nergal at Uruk.’
Dobbai regarded Orodes with a bemused look. ‘He knows all of that, but he and Narses have taken measures in anticipation of those events happening.’
‘What measures?’ I asked.
Dobbai pursed her lips. ‘How should I know? I cannot see into the poisoned well that is the mind of Mithridates.’
‘Mithridates must be punished,’ said Gallia, staring into the distance.
‘I agree,’ I added.
‘And so do I,’ said Orodes.
Dobbai rose from her chair. ‘Very well, I see that your minds are made up. So be it. Though take care, son of Hatra, not to underestimate your adversaries.’
She went over to Gallia and kissed her on the top of her head and then shuffled from the terrace. None of us said any more as we contemplated the future.
Six days later we burned the body of Godarz on a huge funeral pyre erected in the city’s main square. I had paid a great deal of gold to an Egyptian embalmer to preserve it so that his friends from afar could witness his funeral. Gallia had shed all her tears by then and her face was an emotionless mask as the pyre was lit and the flames took hold and consumed our friend’s body with a relentless ferocity. The square was packed with citizens for Godarz had been a respected governor who had administered the affairs of Dura with fairness, legality and commonsense. We stood in a line at the front of the multitude – I, Gallia, Orodes, Domitus, Diana, Gafarn, Nergal, Praxima, Byrd, Malik and a weeping Rsan. Poor Rsan. When we had first come to Dura he was the only one from the previous administration still alive. Rsan had been left to face us alone. He had subsequently proven himself to be a capable and above all honest royal treasurer. For those qualities he had become a valued and trusted member of the council. Rsan and Godarz had become close friends and now my treasurer was grief stricken. We could not criticise him; Godarz was a good man who deserved the shedding of an ocean of tears.
Behind us the Amazons were lined up in their mail shirts, swords at their hips. Diana and Gafarn had ridden hard from Hatra to be here and Nergal and Praxima had left their palace at Uruk to pay their respects to the man who had been like a father to them also.
The Companions remained motionless in their ranks among the soldiers who formed a cordon around the now blazing pyre. I watched the flames consume my friend, just as I had suffered with him many years ago in a green valley in Italy watching other flames devour the bodies of Spartacus and his wife Claudia. I prayed to Shamash that He would carry the soul of Godarz to heaven so he could be reunited with his friends. When the flames died down Domitus had his men clear the area and we remained at a loss as the legionaries used their shields to gently usher the citizens out of the square. As they did so I caught sight of Vistaspa, the commander of my father’s army. He had been standing among the crowd unnoticed but now he came over to me. Lean, tall with a thin, bony face, Vistaspa was one of the most ruthless men I had ever encountered. He had once been a prince of the Kingdom of Silvan and Godarz had served under him. Vistasp
a had been delighted when he had been reunited with one of his old comrades in the aftermath of my return from Italy. Godarz could have stayed in Hatra but I had asked him to become Dura’s governor, and now Vistaspa had lost his friend for good. Although in his sixties, he still possessed the air of a ruthless warrior. He bowed his head and then regarded me with his cold, dark eyes.
‘Have you caught the killers yet?’
‘Not yet,’ I replied, ‘but be assured that they will not escape.’
But it seemed they had escaped. As the days passed I despaired that Godarz’s killers would be apprehended. Gallia’s mood darkened by the day and she lashed out at all and sundry. She spoke sharply to our daughters, argued with Domitus and Rsan and ordered that a servant, a girl barely out of her teens, be flogged for breaking a water jug. I immediately countermanded the order.
‘I ordered her to be flogged!’ Gallia stormed into the throne room as I was discussing sewage disposal with Rsan and the city’s chief engineer.
She strode onto the dais and stood before me. Rsan and the engineer looked at each other and then stared at the floor.
‘Thank you, Rsan, we will discuss this matter tomorrow.’
Rsan and the engineer bowed and left us.
‘Well?’
‘We do not flog young girls,’ I said. ‘And did you notice that I was in a meeting?’
She sneered at me. ‘Sitting on your arse doing nothing, as usual.’
I stood up slowly. ‘I know that you are upset my love, but do not test my patience.’
‘Why?’ she scoffed, ‘what are you going to do? You should be out looking for Godarz’s killers instead of sitting on your backside talking about disposing of shit.’
‘That’s enough!’
Her eyes were wild and I thought she was going to strike me, but then Domitus interrupted us.
‘We’ve found them.’
Gallia’s mood changed instantly as Domitus informed us that Polemo and Nadira had been caught and were on their way back to Dura under armed guard.
‘They bribed a merchant and joined his caravan. Would have got away had it not been for the broken nose you gave the man,’ said Domitus. ‘They were picked up by an Agraci patrol just outside Palmyra.’
‘What about the merchant?’ growled Gallia.
‘He is at Palmyra under Haytham’s guard awaiting your decision.’
‘Tell Haytham to execute him,’ said Gallia. ‘That is the penalty for helping assassins.’
Domitus looked at me.
‘What are you looking at him for?’ retorted Gallia. ‘Do you no longer take orders from your queen?’
I nodded ever so slightly at Domitus, who came to attention before Gallia.
‘It will be as you order, majesty.’
He turned, replaced his crested helmet on his head and marched from the throne room. Gallia sniffed and also marched away.
Malik himself brought back the pair who had been sent to kill me, handing them over to Domitus at the Palmyrene Gate. Gallia had wanted Nadira to be raped by a host of my soldiers but I instantly forbade such a torment. They would be executed for their crime and no more. Their deaths would take place in the main square so all could see that justice and law ruled in Dura. Gallia scoffed at what she called my high ideals, as did Dobbai, but I reminded them that I was the king of the city and my word held sway.
Afterwards we held a meeting of the council, a mournful occasion at which we all found ourselves staring at the chair Godarz used to sit in. I should have had it removed but to do so seemed like a slight against his memory and we all wanted to have things around us that reminded us of him. So it stayed.
‘You are governor now, Rsan,’ I said. ‘Godarz would have wanted that.’
Domitus and Orodes nodded in assent and the clerk recorded my decision.
I tried to lighten the mood. ‘How is Aaron getting on, Rsan?’
‘Quite well, majesty. He has a quick mind and a head for figures. His tongue is apt to take on a mind of its own but aside from that he shows great promise.’
Gallia began to drum her fingers on the table, causing Rsan to fidget in embarrassment. Orodes pretended not to notice and Domitus stared blankly at the table top.
‘Is there something you wish to say?’ I asked her.
‘When are we marching against Mithridates?’
Domitus smiled and Orodes looked thoughtful. Rsan looked alarmed. The prospect of war always filled him with dread, not out of fear but because war meant a reduction in trade and an increase in costs, which meant his precious reserves of treasury gold would be called upon.
‘In a month’s time,’ I replied.
She slammed a fist on the table, causing Rsan to flinch in alarm. ‘That long? We can muster the army and be across the Euphrates in less than a week.’
She was right. Take the army across the river and then strike southeast towards Ctesiphon, the capital of the Parthian Empire. The residence of Mithridates was a large palace complex behind crumbling walls on the eastern bank of the Tigris. The distance was around two hundred miles as the buzzard flies.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘I will not violate the territorial integrity of Hatra and Babylon by marching unannounced through their kingdoms.’
Gallia rolled her eyes in despair. ‘Hatra and Babylon will not object to you crossing their lands. They are our allies, after all.’
‘That may be,’ I said. ‘But I will have their agreement first before starting a war with Mithridates.’
‘We could march down the western side of the Euphrates,’ offered Orodes. ‘Like we did when we campaigned against Chosroes.’
It was not a bad idea. The territory south of Dura for a hundred miles was my kingdom. Beyond that the Agraci ruled. Haytham was a friend and we had used that route when we had attacked Uruk to put Nergal on its throne. But that would add another hundred miles to our journey and we would still have to cross Babylonian territory when we swung east to cross the Euphrates and then head directly for Ctesiphon.
‘No,’ I said. ‘We would still need King Vardan’s agreement to march through his territory. It is better to cross the Euphrates here, at Dura, and then strike for Ctesiphon.’
Domitus looked thoughtful. ‘Mithridates will know by now that you are still alive. He might scarper from his palace and seek refuge further east, with Narses.’
‘He might,’ I replied, ‘though even Mithridates will think twice before running from me. The eyes of the empire will be on him. He and Narses will have no choice but to meet us in battle.’
Mithridates was king of kings and in theory commanded the respect and obedience of all the other kings of the empire. In reality he could only rely on the eastern kings of the realm, including his lord high general Narses, King of Persis and Sakastan. In the northeast corner of the empire lay the kingdoms of Margiana and Hyrcania, and men who were friends of Dura ruled those two domains. And in the western half of the empire the kingdoms of Atropaiene, Media, Hatra, Babylon and Mesene were no friends of Mithridates. But that did not mean they would fight him.
‘This is my fight,’ I said. ‘I have no desire to involve other kingdoms in my quarrel.’
‘Narses will muster a large army, Pacorus,’ said Orodes.
‘I know that, my friend. But we have beaten Narses before and can do so again.’
‘Except we had other kings with us then,’ remarked Domitus grimly.
‘Dura’s army is strong, Domitus,’ said Gallia,’ you have made it so. And we can call on Haytham’s help to swell our numbers.’
‘I will ask Malik and his scouts to accompany us,’ I said, ‘but we will leave the Agraci out of it.’ I looked at them all. ‘It is no small thing that we embark on but if we do nothing Dura, and me for that matter, will appear weak and helpless. Mithridates has made the first move in what will be the final confrontation between us. There is no room in the empire for both of us, therefore let us end it now and rid the world of the villain. Domitus, muster your men!’
Dura’s army was spread far and wide, not only in the camp west of the Palmyrene Gate but also stationed in the small forts that had been built to the north and south of the city. Each one held a garrison of forty men, whose duties ranged from policing the roads, maintaining the irrigation ditches and dams that controlled the flow of water from the Euphrates onto the land, to catching thieves and other criminals and sending them to Dura for punishment. They were also a visible symbol of Dura’s strength. Other, larger forts had been constructed at the extreme ends of the kingdom. Each of these held a garrison of a hundred horse archers who patrolled the borders and ensured no undesirables wandered into Duran territory. There were three such forts at the northern extremity of the kingdom, for that was where Dura ended and Roman Syria began. The Romans had also constructed forts on their frontier so each side watched the other warily, though in truth there had been no trouble with the Romans. There had even been a degree of fraternisation between Dura’s horsemen and their Roman counterparts. I had given orders that this was to cease – I did not trust the men of the Tiber any more than I would a cobra.
At the southern edge of the kingdom were two more forts, though there was never any problem there since south of them was Agraci territory. There were no forts along the long western edge of Dura’s border as the entire length of the frontier also abutted Agraci territory.
Shamash had blessed Dura with the Silk Road and the duties that were levelled on this trade route financed the army. It was common knowledge throughout the empire that Dura possessed two legions modelled on the same formations found in the Roman army. In addition, there was a replacement cohort that recruited and trained new volunteers to ensure that each legion was kept at full strength. The Duran Legion had been the first formation and had been assembled even before we had arrived in Dura. The second legion, the Exiles, had originally been composed of soldiers who had fought in the army of Pontus against the Romans, and who had made their way south to Dura in the aftermath of their defeat.
Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles) Page 6
