I handed the cane back to Mardonius. ‘The enemy has struck at Babylon believing they can take the city. But Babylon has not fallen.’
I looked at Vardan. ‘It has high walls and an adequate garrison, lord?’
‘It has a garrison, or course,’ replied Vardan. ‘But it will be hard pressed if the enemy attempts an assault.’
I shook my head. ‘They have no means to breach the walls, lord, so any assault will come to grief.’
Only I among all the kings of the empire had siege engines that could breach high and strong walls.
‘The refugees within the city will soon consume the food supplies, majesty,’ said a concerned Mardonius.
‘It is as Mardonius says,’ said Vardan to me.
But I was not to be put off by incidentals. ‘If we leave at dawn and march to the Tigris we can reach Babylon in four days. More importantly we will have severed the enemy’s line of retreat. Mithridates and Narses will be forced to give battle.’
Vardan stared at the map once more, seemingly torn between wanting to reach his capital as soon as possible and the thought of dealing with Mithridates and Narses, who had invaded his kingdom.
He sighed deeply. ‘I came to your aid, Pacorus, because you are a valiant and honourable man and also the son of my friend, Varaz.’
My father bowed his head at Vardan.
‘And Mithridates has insulted me by bringing his army into my kingdom without my permission, and has insulted me further by laying siege to my capital. But your objectives are not mine. If we march to Babylon then Mithridates and Narses will withdraw, I have no doubt of that.’
‘And after that?’ I asked.
‘After that,’ continued Vardan, ‘I will request that Mithridates pays me compensation for the ruin he has visited upon my kingdom.’
I drummed my fingers on the table, causing my father to frown some more.
‘Mithridates will never agree to that, lord. It would be better if the empire was rid of him once and for all.’
Vardan and Mardonius behind him appeared horrified at my suggestion, while my father’s face was like thunder.
‘Your quarrel with Mithridates is not mine, Pacorus,’ said Vardan at length. ‘Have you forgotten the chaos and bloodshed that followed the death of Sinatruces? The empire cannot afford another civil war, not with the Armenians and the nomads of the northern steppes causing trouble on our borders. To say nothing of the Romans.’
‘I concur with Vardan’s thoughts,’ growled my father. ‘You will not drag us into your own private war.’
I laughed. ‘How short is your memory, father. Cast your mind back to when we fought Mithridates and Narses at Surkh, or should I say when I fought them.’
The Battle of Surkh was fought east of Ctesiphon, when Narses had attempted to become king of kings by force. Phraates, the son of Sinatruces and father of Orodes, had been elected to the high crown at the Council of Kings held at Esfahan. But Narses had disagreed with the decision, believing that he should rule the empire. He had enlisted the aid of the eastern kings of the empire, plus Mithridates, who had turned against his own father, and had brought a great army to fight those who abided by the decision taken at Esfahan. The two armies met at Surkh. Domitus and the Duran Legion, supported by the Babylonian foot, had destroyed Narses’ foot soldiers, while I commanded my cavalry on the army’s right wing and had led them to victory over the enemy horsemen opposite them. The army of Hatra had been positioned on the left wing of the army and had done nothing that day but stand and watch the enemy being routed and escape to safety.
My father looked at Vardan in confusion. ‘Surkh, what nonsense is this?’
My blood was up now. ‘If you had attacked that day Narses and Mithridates would not have escaped, Phraates would not have been murdered by his own son and we would not be standing round a table arguing how to relieve Babylon.’
My father jabbed a finger at me. ‘Have a care, Pacorus. The support of Hatra and Babylon, so freely given, can be just as easily withdrawn. How short is your memory? Just a few days ago you were surrounded and half-dead in the middle of the desert. Do not add ingratitude to your list of failings.’
Nergal and Praxima were squirming with embarrassment at this exchange, and even Gafarn appeared to be lost for words. Vardan looked very serious and Mardonius fiddled nervously with his pointing stick. Gallia gave me a look of disapproval, willing me to cease talking. But I could not let it rest.
‘I am grateful of course that you brought your army to this place, father.’ I smiled at Vardan. ‘And I esteem Babylon my most valuable and trusted ally.’ Out of the corner of my eye I saw Vistaspa bristle at the veiled insult to Hatra. ‘But eventually matters will have to be settled with Mithridates and Narses. I say better sooner than later.’
‘Hatra’s army will be marching south with King Vardan to relieve Babylon,’ said my father coolly. ‘If you do not wish to support us then I suggest you take your soldiers back to Dura. But I tell you this, Pacorus, I will not be seeking a battle with Mithridates.’
‘Nor I,’ added Vardan.
‘And if Mithridates marches north to meet us?’ I asked.
My father’s nostrils flared. ‘Then you will have your battle, Pacorus. And if you kill Mithridates then the empire will have need of a new king of kings. And that man will be Narses no doubt. And then the whole process begins again and we will have civil war in the empire once more.’
‘Not if Narses also dies,’ I remarked casually.
Orodes and Vardan stared at me in horror. My father held out his hands.
‘Just how many kings do you intend to kill, Pacorus?’
‘None that do not deserve to die,’ I retorted.
‘Perhaps you wish to be king of kings yourself,’ he remarked with sarcasm.
‘Why not?’ I answered. ‘At least then justice would rule the empire in place of tyranny.’
‘You aspire to the high crown?’ asked Vardan, his brown eyes full of anxiety.
‘No, lord,’ I said. ‘I was merely making the point that the empire would be a better place without Mithridates.’
‘That is not your decision to make,’ said my father. ‘Whether you like it or not, Mithridates is king of kings.’
There followed an angry silence as we all stared at the table and avoided each other’s eyes. The tension was unbearable. Eventually my father spoke to Vardan.
‘It would be best if we marched at dawn, Vardan, along the eastern bank of the Euphrates.’
Vardan looked up at him and nodded. My father nodded back, turned on his heels and left without acknowledging me, Vistaspa and Gafarn following. I stood back from the table, bowed my head to Vardan and also departed. Gallia, Orodes, Nergal and Praxima trailed in my wake. It had been a most unpleasant meeting and resentment against my father began to rise within me.
In my tent later, in the company of Gallia, Nergal, Praxima and Orodes and with several cups of wine inside me, I began to pace up and down in a temper.
‘We have Mithridates where we want him and my father refuses to see it. This is an opportunity sent by the gods and we ignore it.’
‘Vardan just wishes to see his daughter safe, Pacorus,’ said Gallia, ‘and so do I.’
‘Praxima and I feel the same way,’ said Nergal. ‘We are very fond of Axsen.’
I stopped and clasped a palm to my chest. ‘I love Axsen too, but no one is safe in this world while Mithridates lives. I’m half-tempted to strike for the Tigris myself and leave Vardan and my father to relieve Babylon.’ I emptied my cup and walked over to refill it from the jug that sat on the table. I did so and held it up to Nergal.
‘Are you with me, my old friend?’
Nergal looked at me and glanced at Praxima. Before he could answer Gallia stood up.
‘You have had too much to drink, Pacorus. Even I, a mere woman, know that it is foolish to divide one’s forces in the face of the enemy. Nergal is too polite and loyal to point out that to divide an army would be
the height of folly.’
‘The height of folly?’ I said. ‘I think sending Surena and a thousand of my horse archers across the Tigris is more idiotic. You have, my sweet, condemned him and them to death by doing so. Surena was one of my most promising commanders and now he almost certainly lies dead in the desert, vultures picking his bones clean.’
My wife had the most beautiful eyes of any woman, their shade of blue purer and more striking than the surface of the Euphrates on a high summer’s day, but now they bored into me like two thunderbolts.
‘This idiot saved your arse a few days ago,’ she shot back at me.
Orodes jumped up and placed an arm round my shoulders.
‘My friends,’ he implored, ‘let us not bicker thus. Let us instead thank the gods that we are safe and all together. If we argue among ourselves then the laughter of my stepbrother will be our only reward.’
He was right, of course. I apologised to Nergal and Gallia and the day ended better than it had begun. Later, when we were alone, Gallia rebuked me for provoking my father. On one level she was right; it was not appropriate for a son to criticise his father, much less in public. But it irked me that he and Vardan could not see the logic that was staring them both in the face, that Mithridates and Narses intended to deal with all their enemies and that Hatra and Babylon, along with Dura, were all in that category. With Gotarzes gone Mithridates now ruled unchallenged from the Tigris to the Himalayas and south to the Persian Gulf and Arabian Sea. In the north the kingdoms of Hyrcania and Margiana, whose rulers had both pledged their allegiance to me, were under assault from the nomads of the northern steppes. If they too fell then Dura would lose two more allies.
As I lay in my cot in the early hours of the next day staring at the roof of the tent, Gallia sleeping beside me, I burned with a desire to seek a battle with the enemy. If I killed Mithridates then his malice would be gone from the world. He had no sons to carry on his line. But then, his demise would allow Narses to seize the high crown. But if he too was killed; what then? No doubt his sons would swear blood vengeance against me. But they too were probably with his army. It was not unconceivable that they might also fall, in which case all would be settled. No, not all, for the empire would then need a new king of kings. Years ago his friend Balas, King of Gordyene, had proposed my father as a suitable candidate following Sinatruces’ death. My father had been obstinate in his refusal to be put forward for the position. But now? Perhaps he could be persuaded to take the high crown in the interests of preserving the empire. Hatra was rich, her army strong and my father was widely respected as a wise and just king who had the empire’s best interests at heart. I smiled to myself. It all suddenly made perfect sense.
Chapter 7
The next day we broke camp and headed south along the Euphrates, though not actually along the eastern bank of the river itself. We were less than a hundred miles north of Babylon. Inland from the river for a distance of around two miles was a continuous belt of land dotted with villages and fields. This was Mesopotamia, which in Greek means ‘land between the rivers’, the fertile area that had for thousands of years produced food, building materials and clothing in abundance for its people. In the spring the Euphrates, which began its long journey in the great Taurus Mountains in the north, was swelled with melt waters that threatened to engulf the towns and villages along its length with flooding. But the ancients had learned long ago to tame the great river with dams, dykes and irrigation canals. When the level of the river rose the dams and dykes prevented the land from being flooded, while the canals channelled the water inland where it could be stored and used to irrigate crops and water livestock.
Each Babylonian village was home to between a hundred and two hundred people and was surrounded by fields and orchards that produced barley, dates, wheat, lentils, peas, olives, grapes, pomegranates and vegetables. There were also fields of flax, which once harvested, cleaned and combed was woven into linen to make clothing. It was also used to make fishermen’s nets. The villagers also kept goats, sheep and cows in pens next to their homes to produce milk, cheese, meat and leather.
This stretch of the river was densely populated and farmed, and the last thing the villagers needed was an army marching across their fields. Therefore we marched in three great columns inland from where the fields and farms ended and the desert began. Vardan and his Babylonians formed the right-hand column as we rode south, the villagers stopping their work and cheering him and his senior officers as they passed by their homes. No doubt many who rode in the ranks of his horse archers were recruited from these same villages, and would return to their farming once the campaign was over – those who still lived. My father rode with Vardan as it was the custom for the kings to travel in each other’s company when on campaign. In his place Vistaspa commanded Hatra’s army that made up the central column.
Dura’s army and Nergal’s horsemen formed the left-hand column of our combined forces and I rode at its head. I was still annoyed with my father and so preferred to avoid his company.
‘You are being childish,’ Gallia rebuked me as walked beside our horses across the parched ground. Like yesterday the sky was heaped with sullen grey clouds that threatened to burst but withheld their rain, creating a humid and uncomfortable atmosphere, rather like that which had existed in Vardan’s pavilion the day before.
‘I prefer the company of my friends to that of kings,’ I replied.
Orodes held the reins of his horse as he walked beside me, while on my other side the long, gangly legs of Nergal paced the ground. Behind us Gallia and Praxima led their mounts.
We had ridden hard during the morning, covering around fifteen miles, and then the whole army had dismounted so as not to tax the horses unduly. We would soon halt for an hour or so before resuming our ride south. The day after tomorrow we would be at Babylon, unless Mithridates chose to march north to meet us.
‘This continual bickering between you and your father is tiresome Pacorus,’ continued Gallia.
‘A father and son should not quarrel so,’ said Orodes sternly.
‘Orodes is right,’ added Nergal.
‘I have no wish to argue with my father,’ I said.
‘As long as he agrees with you,’ interrupted Gallia.
‘As long as he sees Mithridates for what he is,’ I corrected her. ‘I don’t want to see my father’s head split open by an assassin’s sword like mine nearly was.’
‘Surely he would not attempt to murder your father?’ said Praxima.
‘Why not?’ I replied. ‘He has already killed his own father and now Gotarzes.’
I glanced at Orodes who stared ahead with unblinking eyes.
‘I am sorry, my friend,’ I said.
He managed a weak smile. ‘You are right in what you say, Pacorus, but my stepbrother is clever as well as malicious. I have no doubt that he has sent many messages to your father professing his friendship and allegiance. For your father it is no small thing to take arms against the king of kings.’
‘And in truth it is no small matter for Mesene,’ said Nergal.
‘I know that, Nergal, and I appreciate your presence here. You are a loyal friend.’
‘And we are glad to be by your side, Pacorus,’ added Praxima.
Brave and fearless Praxima. She was as good as any man on the battlefield but beyond the bravado I knew that she and her husband were in great peril. Like Babylon Mesene occupied land between the Tigris and Euphrates, and directly opposite Nergal’s kingdom, across the Tigris, lay the Kingdom of Susiana, Mithridates’ domain. Its capital Susa was only a hundred and fifty miles from Uruk. At least while Gotarzes still lived the Kingdom of Elymais acted as a counterweight to Susiana, but now Mesene potentially faced the full might of Mithridates’ wrath. That is why he must be dealt with quickly. If Mithridates and Narses were allowed to turn their full strength against Mesene, Nergal’s kingdom would crumble.
‘How many troops can you raise, Nergal?’ I asked.
‘
Five thousand horse archers I have brought with me,’ he replied. ‘These are my professional troops, men who are paid by me to be full-time soldiers. Uruk has a garrison of a further thousand men, trained and equipped after the Greek fashion, each man with bronze helmet, leather cuirass, bronze-faced shield, spear and sword. In times of emergency I can muster a further ten thousand horse archers at most.’
‘It is a credit to you that you can raise such a force,’ remarked Orodes.
And so it was, for Mesene was a poor kingdom and the campaign that Chosroes had waged against me had cost him his army, his city and ultimately his life. A fair number of the kingdom’s lords and their men had also died before the walls of Dura and later in the defence of Uruk.
‘How many Ma’adan have you recruited?’ I asked.
‘A third of my horse archers are men from the marshes,’ Nergal replied. ‘They are good warriors, used to living off their wits and unafraid of hardships. Much like Surena.’
‘Ah, yes,’ I said. ‘Surena. You heard that Gallia sent him and a thousand of my horse archers, men you used to command Nergal, into the heart of enemy territory. I had great hopes for Surena and now he lies dead in the desert.’
Nergal was shocked. ‘Surena is dead?’
‘Of course he isn’t,’ snapped Gallia. ‘Pacorus whines like an old mule. Surena is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He fought the soldiers of Chosroes for many years with only a long knife and a ragged band of feral youths for company.’
‘I did not know you took such an interest in him,’ I said.
‘I don’t,’ she replied irritably, ‘but Viper is forever talking about him and as I am very fond of her I listen to her words.’
I tried a clever riposte. ‘And soon you will have to tell her that she is a widow.’
‘Don’t be an idiot, Pacorus. Do you think I would willingly send him and a thousand of Dura’s soldiers to their deaths? Do you think I am so stupid, that I know nothing of war even though I have fought by your side these past ten years?’
Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles) Page 21
