The advance guard of the army comprised five hundred widely dispersed horse archers who kept a lookout for any possible ambush sites on route, such as fords across rivers, woodland, canyons and the like. If they suffered any attacks they were to immediately break contact and fall back to the army where a plan could be formulated.
Next came the pioneers, a small contingent of surveyors and workmen who determined where the army would camp for the night and once at the site would mark out where the tents would be pitched, the stables sited and the ditches dug. These men were under the command of Marcus, as was the unit of engineers that came next in the order of march, whose task was to repair the roads and bridges along which the army was travelling.
The wagons and mules carrying the army’s supplies and food came next, plus the oxen pulling Marcus’ siege engines (though for this campaign they had been left behind at Dura) and the thousand camels and their civilian drivers of the ammunition train carrying spare arrows. This was the slowest part of the army and also the most vulnerable – any successful assault on the baggage train would destroy the food supplies and seriously damage the army’s ability to continue the campaign. It was thus protected by two dragons of horse archers – two thousand riders.
Next came the senior officers of the army, which should have included Domitus and Kronos, but they always insisted on walking at the head of their legions and so the only company I had was Orodes and Gallia when she accompanied the army. Surena should have been attending me but he always found an excuse to ride with the advance guard. On this march I asked Silaces to ride with me as the banner of Elymais was carried behind us, alongside those of Susiana and Dura, though all three flags were wrapped round their poles and covered with waxed sleeves. As we were marching through Hatran territory I thought it impolite to fly the flags of other kingdoms in my father’s lands.
Behind us rode the cataphracts, their heavy scale armour and lances carried on the camels led behind them by their squires. On the march the cataphracts acted as horse archers, though they insisted that they were actually the king’s bodyguard because they rode immediately behind me. Then came the legions, the men in their centuries and cohorts marching six abreast at a steady pace that allowed them to cover twenty miles a day.
Behind the legions I had placed Silaces’ eight thousand horse archers and behind them the rear guard made up of the remaining Duran horse archers – five hundred men.
We marched inland from the Euphrates, away from villages and cultivated land as a thousand cataphracts, two thousand squires, eleven thousand horse archers and ten thousand legionaries can cause much damage tramping over fields and irrigation ditches. In addition to the horses and men there were the cataphracts’ two thousand camels, a further thousand camels carrying spare arrows, two thousand wagons and three and a half thousand mules that accompanied the two legions. As with the camels carrying spare arrows, the drivers of the wagons were all civilians under Marcus’ command.
It was only when the army was fully assembled did I realise what a massive organisation it was, and how much wealth was required to keep each part of it armed and provisioned.
We marched for four days north parallel to the Euphrates and then headed inland in a northeasterly direction towards Nisibus. It took a further five days before we made camp ten miles south of the city near the River Mygdonius, which ran through the city further north. During our march the country had changed from desert to steppe and finally to fertile plains as we neared the great Taurus Mountains that separated Hatra from Armenia.
The camp was its usual square shape, each side measuring twelve hundred yards comprising an outer ditch and earth rampart with wooden stakes planted on top. I decided that this spot would be our base until we returned home. We were near water and the area around the city itself would be crowded with tents containing soldiers from Media and Atropaiene and others from the garrison. My father’s entourage filled Nisibus itself. After the evening meal I assembled the senior officers in my tent and briefed them on the course of action for the following days. Byrd and Malik had returned to us and sat at the table with Alcaeus, Domitus, Kronos, Surena, Orodes, Silaces and myself. The mood was relaxed, confident.
‘We will stay here,’ I announced, ‘as we are near water and the city and the surrounding area will be thronged with soldiers and people. I see no reason to add to the multitude.’
‘The more people there are in a confined space,’ said Alcaeus, ‘the more likelihood of pestilence. I’ve seen armies reduced to nothing when sickness sweeps through them.’
‘I have sent word to Vata, the commander in these parts, that we are here,’ I continued, ‘and will await my father’s summons.’
‘When do we fight the Armenians?’ asked Surena with relish.
I gave him a disapproving look. ‘We don’t, unless they provoke us. We are here to impress them, to awe them, Surena, not to fight them.’
‘I’ve always found that grinding an enemy into the ground impresses them,’ sniffed Domitus, to which Kronos, Malik and Surena banged the hilts of their daggers on the table. I held up my hands to still the hubbub.
‘We are here to support my father, and he prefers to try the route of negotiation first.’
‘And if that doesn’t work?’ pressed Domitus.
‘Then, my friend,’ I answered, ‘we will do things your way.’
The others cheered, even the normally reserved Orodes, and I smiled. Their morale and that of the army was excellent and I knew that the legions wanted to avenge the near defeat they had experienced not far from the Tigris last year. The fact that their discomfort was not at the hands of the Armenians was irrelevant. They sensed an opportunity to wash away the bitter taste of defeat by dipping their swords in Armenian blood.
There were sounds of horses’ hooves and voices outside and the tent flap opened. One of the sentries entered and saluted.
‘Lord Vata is here to see you, majesty.’
I was delighted. ‘Vata, here? Have him shown in and have more wine sent to us.’
He saluted and then held the flap open to let my childhood friend enter. I hardly recognised the squat, round-face individual who strode across the carpet to embrace me. The son of Bozan had always been shorter and stockier than me, but his big round face had always worn a smile to reflect his happy-go-lucky nature, but now his countenance was severe, pitiless and also haggard. He looked more than his forty years of age; perhaps I appeared the same to him.
‘Welcome, my old friend,’ I said, ‘take the weight off your feet.’
I poured him a cup of wine and introduced my officers to him as he drained the cup and helped himself to another. I noticed that he looked at Malik disparagingly.
‘Your father and the other kings are in Nisibus and their forces are camped outside,’ he looked at me with dark-ringed eyes. ‘In two days’ time Tigranes the Great, so called, will grace us with his presence.’
‘Who is Tigranes?’ asked Surena.
Vata cracked a smile. ‘The king of the Armenians and the bastard who, for the last few years, has been sending raiding parties through the Taurus Mountains and lately from Gordyene into northern Hatra.
‘Every caravan that passes through these parts I have to furnish with an escort to see it reaches Antioch safely. They already pay duties to travel through Hatra so we cannot charge them any more. So the king, the father of Pacorus, has to pay for the additional troops that garrison this region out of his own treasury.’
‘You say the caravans are protected,’ said Orodes.
‘That is correct, lord prince.’
‘Then surely they are safe from raiders.’
Vata drank another cup of wine and I noticed a nasty scar on his right hand. ‘I don’t have enough men, lord prince, to protect all the caravans and all the towns and villages in this area. If I provide protection to all the caravans then the villages and farms are raided and crops and livestock plundered. If I station troops in the villages then the caravans are vul
nerable. So you see, lord prince, I face a dilemma.’
‘One that will now be resolved,’ I reassured him.
His mouth broke into a weak smile. ‘Let us hope so, my friend, for the stakes are high.’
They were indeed. Northern Hatra was the richest part of the kingdom, a fertile area containing countless springs and brooks that irrigated land that produced grapes, rice, grain, olives, figs, pomegranates, apples, pears, apricots and dates. The estates of the lords who lived in the area possessed great herds of horses that supplied my father’s army with mounts, while the royal estates here also raised camels and mules. The great number of villages provided troops for the army and farmers to work the land. If these resources were lost Hatra would lose a great source of wealth, in addition to endangering the Silk Road that ran from the city of Hatra north to Nisibus and then west to Antioch.
‘Still,’ said Vata, ‘now the army of Dura is here I think Tigranes will think twice before continuing provocations.’
I looked at the others. ‘I would speak to Lord Vata alone.’
They saluted Vata and filed from the tent back to their commands, my friend nodding to each of them as they left.
‘You’ve collected a strange bunch, Pacorus. The one with the face tattoos, he’s Agraci, isn’t he?’
‘An Agraci prince,’ I corrected him.
His eyes were wide with surprise. ‘And he fights for you?’
‘Of course, he is a good friend.’
Vata shook his head. ‘I heard about the scrape you got yourself in last year. When your father came back he was far from happy, as were a lot of people, that ten thousand Agraci had crossed the Euphrates.’
I refilled my cup with wine. ‘Well, the Agraci helped save my neck and for that I am in their debt.’
He suddenly looked alarmed. ‘You didn’t bring any Agraci with you, did you?’
I laid a hand on his arm. ‘Only Malik and a handful of his men, Vata.’
‘Your father does not want a war,’ he said gravely.
‘He sent you to tell me that?’
‘No,’ he replied, ‘but I know he is worried that a full-scale war will erupt between Hatra and the Armenians. He can’t afford two wars.’
‘Two wars?’
He smiled. ‘How long have we known each other, Pacorus? I know you will march again against Mithridates, it is only a matter of time. And when you do Hatra will be forced to fight beside you.’
‘I ask no one to fight beside me,’ I said casually.
‘You are wrong. You have already asked Hatra, Babylon and Mesene to fight for you, either that or meekly submit as Mithridates subdues them. I can read maps too.’
‘There are debts that must be repaid,’ I said slowly.
He laughed and slapped my arm. ‘Same old Pacorus. Well, I must get back to the city. Your father sent me to request your presence at the palace tomorrow at midday.’
‘I can’t wait,’ I said dryly.
He stood and drained his cup. ‘It is good to see you, my friend.’
I stood and we embraced. ‘You too, Vata.’
‘I like your camp. Do you always construct it thus?’
‘Always. It allows all those inside to sleep sounder at night.’
I stood at the tent’s entrance and watched him ride down the camp’s central avenue with his escort of spearmen around him. The wind coming from the north was cool and carried with it a light drizzle. I shivered and gathered my cloak around me as Vata and his men disappeared in the distance.
The next day I ordered hunting parties to be sent out to collect some fresh food that could be cooked in the evening. I had hunted in these parts as a boy with my father, Bozan and Vata and knew they were rich in lions, hyenas, jackals, wolves, wild boar and antelopes. Surena organised a competition between fifty hunting parties, each one made up of twenty horse archers, whereby the winning party would be the one that killed the most edible game and would be rewarded with a bonus of a week’s pay. Marcus added a proviso that they must collect any arrows they shot that missed the target and extract any others from the animals they killed. The thought of thirty thousand arrows being wasted on a hunting trip did not improve his humour. Before they left camp Surena promised instant promotion to anyone who brought back a dead Armenian. I also reminded them not to damage any farms or property, or indeed frighten the locals who might mistake them for raiders.
I took Orodes with me to the meeting of the kings, the two hundred and fifty men of his bodyguard in their scale armour riding behind us. Nisibus stands beside the Mygdonius that flows south through a huge plain located below Mount Masius, one of the mountains in the Taurus chain. The lower slopes of the mountain are covered in deciduous and conifer forests, while the arrival of spring had covered the plain of Nisibus in white roses. I took this to be a good omen signalling that the white horse of Hatra and the white tunics of Dura would overcome their foes.
It had been over five years since I had last seen the kings of Media and Atropaiene and in that time they had aged considerably.
They were waiting in the main hall of Nisibus’ palace; a squat stone building that was entirely functional and largely devoid of rich furnishings. The palace was in the centre of a walled compound that also contained storerooms, stables, armouries and barracks. At this time it was crowded with horses, soldiers and the retinues of lords that waited as their masters gathered in the main hall.
Orodes and I left our horses at the entrance to the palace and walked through the reception hall. Guards stood at every pillar and a host of petitioners waited outside the closed oak doors at the entrance to the hall. We pushed our way through the throng and the guards at the entrance opened the doors to allow us to enter. They were closed behind us. The hall had plain white-washed walls and grey stone slabs covering the floor. We made our way to where my father was sitting at the head of a massive rectangular oak table positioned in the middle of the chamber. Beyond it stood a stone dais over which hung Hatran banners depicting a white horse on a red background, and around the dais, behind my father, stood the lords of northern Hatra dressed in their war gear.
My father nodded to me and then Orodes as we took our seats at the table. Beside my father, as always, was Vistaspa, his elbows resting on the table and his hands clasped together under his chin. I could tell from his demeanour that the meeting would be serious. On my father’s other side was the world-weary Vata who managed a thin smile. Across the table from me sat King Farhad of Media, a lean, severe individual with dark eyes. Next to him was his son, Prince Atrax, a man I liked enormously for his courage, amiable nature and sense of honour. Unfortunately for me he was married to my sister Aliyeh, who had taken against me when Atrax had received a severe leg wound as a consequence of fighting the Romans. Aliyeh had blamed me for intoxicating Atrax with notions of glory and encouraging him to seek battle, which was untrue. Anyhow Atrax had nearly died and now walked with a permanent limp as a consequence of his wound and Aliyeh never forgave me. She also disliked me for having, as she put it, lured Atrax away from her side to fight beside me during my ill-fated campaign in Gordyene, during which we had all nearly died. That was years ago but her anger towards me had not diminished. Since then Aliyeh had born two sons, the future rulers of Media. I had heard that Atrax had wanted to name his firstborn Pacorus but Aliyeh had forbidden it. The rumour was that my sister ruled both her husband and father-in-law and thus the whole of Media.
Atrax’s angular face broke into a grin and I smiled back. Behind the king and his son stood Media’s senior commanders, all dressed in blue tunics, grey leggings, armour and helmets. At the other end of the table sat the King of Atropaiene, Aschek. He had thick, wavy black hair and a hooked nose. Either side of him were his two sons who had inherited their father’s nose and behind them were grouped Atropaiene’s generals.
‘These are dangerous times,’ began my father, ‘when all of our kingdoms face external threats. For too long now our borders have been assaulted by raiders from A
rmenia.’
‘It is as you say, Varaz,’ said Farhad. ‘Ever since Balas was killed and Gordyene lost to the Romans we have had nothing but trouble.’
‘Only last week,’ added Aschek, ‘a large party of the enemy attacked my lands from Gordyene and did a great deal of damage. It is intolerable.’
My father nodded while Vistaspa continued to look down at the table. ‘Intolerable, I agree, which is why I have demanded this meeting with Tigranes.’
‘It was better for us,’ said Farhad, ‘when Tigranes was fighting the Romans. Now he is their ally he turns his spears against us.’
‘He is their client,’ I corrected him.
Farhad held out his hands. ‘Client, ally, what does it matter?’
‘It matters a great deal, lord,’ I answered. ‘Armenia is a client state of Rome and Tigranes is what is called amicus populi Romani, “a friend of the Roman people”, which means he is under Rome’s thumb. He does nothing without the agreement of his Roman overlords.’
‘And you think that Rome believes there is advantage to be gained in provoking us?’ asked Aschek.
‘Yes lord,’ I answered.
‘And what is that, Pacorus?’ queried my father.
‘What Rome has always desired, father. Control of the Silk Road.’ I looked at Vata. ‘These raiders that attack Hatra’s villages and the trade caravans, do they include Romans?’
He shook his head. ‘There are no Romans in these parts any more, Pacorus.’
I was surprised. ‘Are you sure? I remember when I was last in Gordyene,’ I nodded at Atrax, ‘there were plenty of Romans there at that time.’
‘There might be some in Armenia itself,’ replied Vata, ‘but there are none in Gordyene and no Romans raid our frontier.’
‘They get others to do their dirty work,’ complained Atrax.
Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles) Page 38
