‘The cataphracts will drive through the enemy’s centre,’ added my father, ‘with Vistaspa once again deployed on the left with the horse archers.’
‘With their left and centre destroyed,’ I continued, ‘the enemy’s horse archers will either have to intervene or flee.’
‘It is strange that the enemy remained on the defensive despite their superiority in numbers,’ mused Surena.
‘Narses is obviously not the great general he thought he was,’ was my father’s only comment.
By the time I had ridden back to camp, unsaddled Remus and walked to my tent there were only four hours of the night left. The tents were filled with sleeping men and it was ominously quiet. I slipped into my tent’s bedchamber and lay beside a sleeping Gallia, then stared at the ceiling and heard Surena’s voice. Why had the enemy remained on the defensive? I dismissed them from my mind.
When the dawn came the armies once more marched out to take up their battle positions, the legions deploying in two lines to extend their frontage, their right flank again anchored on the river and the Babylonians once more massed on their left. It took two hours before the latter were in their positions, during which time the two great masses of enemy spearmen once again filtered through the neat rows of the great date palm grove to face the Durans, Exiles and Babylonians. In the centre armoured riders gathered around the kings once more, while on the left Vistaspa gathered his contingents of horse archers.
The day was again dry and sunny, though there was no wind and the temperature was already rapidly rising despite the early hour. The area presented a grisly spectacle as the dead from yesterday’s fighting still lay on the ground where they had fallen, the deployment of the two armies at first scattering the hordes of crows, buzzards and vultures that had been having a feast for breakfast, who then returned to their meal as both sides halted and dressed their lines. The birds pecked at the skulls of fallen soldiers and tore at the flesh of slain horses as they gorged themselves on the dead flesh in no man’s land.
Once more I sweated in my scale armour as Gallia and I joined the other monarchs. In the centre of the battle line I could see small groups of enemy cataphracts directly opposite, perhaps five hundred in total, in between the mounted spearmen who now made up the bulk of the enemy’s centre. And once again the opposition’s horse archers flooded the valley to face Vistaspa’s horsemen on our left wing.
Again the infernal din of kettledrums began to fill the air as the enemy spearmen opposite the legions began cheering and banging their spear shafts against their wicker shields.
‘They attempt to intimidate your foot soldiers, Pacorus,’ remarked my father.
‘It will take more than a bit of noise to frighten them, father.’
‘They outnumber your men, Pacorus,’ said Atrax with concern.
He was right. More and more spearmen were gathering in front of the Durans and Exiles and the purple ranks of the Babylonians grouped on their left. Most of the enemy spearmen were wearing the yellow of Narses, the soldiers who faced the Babylonians carrying white shields and wearing black uniforms – the troops of Mithridates.
I smiled at Atrax. ‘It is not the size of the gladiator in a fight, Atrax, but the size of the fight in the gladiator.’
Gallia laughed and Atrax looked confused. My father shook his head.
‘You are certain your foot soldiers can defeat the enemy’s?’ he asked.
‘Quite certain, father.’
‘They have done so on many occasions,’ added Orodes.
My father tilted his head at Orodes in recognition of his high status. It was now the turn of the king of kings to speak.
‘When Domitus begins to push them back, Pacorus, we will shatter their centre. With their left wing and centre destroyed the enemy will be forced to withdraw back to Susa.’
He looked at Gallia and smiled.
‘I would ask you again to lead the reserve this day, Gallia.’
She smiled at him and nodded, and then came a great cheer came from the right and I was astonished to see the enemy spearmen advancing to attack the legions, their great wicker shields presenting a long wall of yellow and white as they marched at a steady pace towards my men.
‘Looks like the enemy has a death wish,’ remarked Gafarn casually as we all watched transfixed by the great drama that was about to take place on the right flank.
Trumpet blasts sounded from the ranks of the legions and then the whole of the first line – ten cohorts of Durans and Exiles – ran forward, the first five ranks hurling their javelins at the oncoming spearmen. The latter also charged and seconds later a sound like the splintering of wood reached our ears as both sides collided. From our viewpoint it appeared as if time had frozen as the great press of soldiers suddenly became immobile, but the sounds of cheers and screams revealed that in the centre of the great mass slaughter was being done. The wicker shields of the enemy were large and thick, capable of withstanding an arrow and spear strike, but they were unwieldy in the mêlée and became more so when a javelin was lodged in them, further adding to their weight. And the legionaries could use their shield bosses to barge aside enemy spears to stab at enemy faces and necks with their short shorts.
The front ranks of the enemy spearmen had been thinned by the storm of javelins in the first charge, the survivors subsequently being cut to pieces by gladius blades. Soon the legionaries were stepping over the bodies of dead spearmen to get at those behind as the enemy started to crumple. We sat on our horses like members of the audience in the best seats at a play as the tragedy of the enemy’s spearmen was enacted. And above the grim sounds of battle could be heard a rhythmic chant, one that I had heard many times before but which never failed to set my pulse racing. We heard ‘Dura, Dura’ as the legionaries herded the enemy back, back towards the date palm as they chopped the wicker shields in front of them to pieces. The enemy was faltering now, and then I heard fresh trumpet blasts and the first line of the Durans began to wheel left as the cohorts in the second line behind began to form into columns. The Exiles halted their advance as the Duran front line continued to turn like a great door swinging open towards the river, and into the gap created by this turning movement flooded the columns of the second line. Only the best-trained soldiers in the world could attempt such a manoeuvre in battle as the front-line cohorts shoved the spearmen before them towards the water. Around a quarter of the enemy spearmen were being forced into the deep waters of the Karkheh.
Hundreds drowned as they were pushed into the river, unable to flee because of the dense press of men around them. Groups of spearmen in the rear ranks began to run away as the enemy’s cohesion began to crumble, but for those in front of the Durans there was no escape as they were either cut down by swords or pushed into the river and drowned. It was marvellous to behold.
We all cheered and my father turned and gave the signal to his horsemen deployed a hundred paces behind us, who began to walk their horses forward. Behind them the Duran and Median heavy horsemen also began to advance preparatory to the charge while Orodes’ bodyguard closed around him. I also gave the signal to my men to move forward. All that remained was for the enemy horsemen opposite to be scattered and the day would be ours.
And then the Babylonians broke.
Having lost a thousand men the day before the morale of Babylon’s foot soldiers was shaky at best. I had hoped that the guaranteed success of the legions deployed on their right wing would stiffen their resolve but I was wrong. In the initial clash they again suffered heavy casualties and began to falter, then were forced back as the Exiles next to them advanced. Within no time they were fighting their own private battle and losing it, made worse by the deluge of arrows and stones that was being directed at them by enemy archers and slingers whose commanders, learning from the previous day, realised that the missiles of their men would be more effective against the Babylonians rather than the legions. Then enemy spearmen began to envelop them to attack their flanks and so they broke and fled to
the rear. Fortunately Kronos had been alert to the danger and had turned the cohort on the extreme left of his second line through ninety degrees to provide protection for his now exposed flank. Frantic trumpet commands and whistles brought the Exiles to a halt, which were reciprocated among the ranks of the Durans as Domitus also realised that something was awry. The advance stopped and then the legions disengaged and began to inch backwards.
‘Gallia,’ I said, ‘you and your reserve are with me. We must assist the Babylonians.’
Small groups of the latter were attempting to make a stand but were being methodically surrounded and cut down by enemy spearmen who, I had to admit, were maintaining their discipline. Nevertheless there were around five thousand enemy troops advancing towards our rear where our camps and all their supplies were located.
‘Do you need your cataphracts, Pacorus?’ asked Orodes, pained by the plight of his foot soldiers giving way.
I shook my head. ‘No, I can stabilise the situation long enough for Domitus to seal the gap in the line.’
‘There is little point in assaulting their centre now,’ said my father.
He was right: the enemy’s left wing was still intact albeit sorely depleted. Archers had now come forward to pepper the withdrawing legions with arrows, though they inflicted few casualties. As Dura’s foot soldiers fell back they revealed a ground that was literally carpeted in dead. How many soldiers did Narses have?
I pulled my sword from its scabbard just as Byrd and Malik brought their horses to a halt behind the kings.
‘Second army come,’ announced Byrd.
My father turned in his saddle. ‘What did you say?’
‘It is true, lord,’ said Malik. ‘Another army is approaching from the northern end of the valley. Horse archers leading a great number of tribesmen.’
‘How many?’ asked Orodes.
Byrd looked at him. ‘Tens of thousands.’
The valleys of the Zagros Mountains were dotted with villages and smaller settlements that had existed since before the empire. Ruled by tribal chieftains, these villages owed allegiance to no king in a faraway city and their inhabitants spent most of their time raiding other villages and settling blood feuds. The Persians and then the Greeks had tried to subdue them and failed, and it had been the same with the Parthians. However, all these races had discovered that the hill tribes could be enlisted as allies easily enough if they had enough gold to pay them. Mithridates had obviously used some of the gold he had shipped from Ctesiphon to recruit these wild people to his cause. Armed with an assortment of axes, spears, clubs and knives they usually wore no armour or head protection, their only defence being a small shield.
‘The Babylonians still need our assistance,’ I said.
‘Hatra’s horsemen will deal with the hill men,’ stated my father.
‘You do not know how many there are, father.’
He smiled. ‘As you yourself said, Pacorus, it is size of the fight in the man that counts.’
The next few minutes were organised chaos as a rider was sent to Vistaspa ordering that Dura’s and Hatra’s horse archers to redeploy north of the campsites to form up with my father’s armoured riders to assault the approaching enemy. Meanwhile Orodes would lead the rest of the cataphracts against the horsemen in the enemy’s centre and Gallia and I would assault the spearmen who had routed the Babylonians. Surena and Media’s archers remained on the left wing to contain the enemy’s horse archers. I reached over and shook my father’s hand and then Gafarn’s as the Amazons and Babylon’s royal guard began trotting towards our right wing.
Gallia rode beside me, the Amazons in a long line behind together with Vagharsh carrying my banner, as we broke into a gallop and headed towards the phalanx of enemy spearmen that was advancing towards the Babylonian camp. Most of the Babylonian spearmen had either been killed or had sought refuge in Dura’s camp, whose ramparts were at least guarded by squires and their bows.
The enemy spearmen had spotted the body of horsemen coming towards them and had halted to assume an all-round defensive posture – shields rested on the ground and spears pointed at us at an angle of forty-five degrees. The Babylonian horsemen slowed and then halted as the Amazons deployed into five widely spaced columns that galloped to within a hundred paces of the densely packed square of spearmen, before each rider shot her bow before wheeling sharply right and right again to ride to the rear of the column. In this way a steady volley of arrows was unleashed against the spearmen, the arrows arching into the sky before falling among the spearmen. It was useless to strike the shields because the wicker and leather facing was too thick, and so the arrows were shot upwards to fall out of the sky and hopefully strike necks and faces. A hundred archers did not have enough arrows to cause many casualties among so many spearmen but they were numerous enough to bring them to a halt.
As the Amazons amused themselves with target practice, the Babylonian horsemen deployed around my wife’s fighters acting as a guard, I rode across the field to where the legions had pulled back to their original positions. I had to take a wide detour to reach them as the phalanx of enemy spearmen was actually behind the left wing of the Exiles.
I saw a cohort of the Durans running back to camp as I rode up to Domitus who was speaking to Kronos. They raised their hands when they saw me.
Domitus pointed over to where the block of enemy spearmen stood.
‘You stopped them, then?’
‘Gallia and the Amazons are keeping them entertained.’
‘I’ve sent to men to fetch Marcus and his machines,’ said Domitus. ‘They can finish them off.’
‘There has been an unfortunate development, my friends,’ I told them. ‘Another enemy army is approaching from the north.’
Kronos and Domitus looked at each other.
‘My father’s takes his army to deal with it,’ I reassured them. ‘In the meantime remain on the defensive here.’
I looked to where the legions had battled the spearmen. Not only was the ground blanketed with bodies but there also were enemy dead floating in the river.
I nodded towards the grim harvest. ‘Excellent work.’
‘We would have been in Susa by now if the Babylonians had not collapsed,’ remarked Kronos bitterly.
‘Can’t help that,’ I replied. ‘We may still win the day.’
I saw wagons leaving the camp and heading towards us – Marcus and his ballista.
‘Make sure none escape,’ I ordered. ‘The more enemy we kill today the less we have to face tomorrow.’
Kronos was shocked. ‘You think the battle will extend into a third day?’
‘I’m sure of it. The enemy seems to have an inexhaustible supply of soldiers.’
‘Whereas we do not,’ said Domitus grimly.
I did not bother to ask about the size of our losses as I raised a hand to them and rode back to Gallia whose women had ceased their shooting.
‘We are out of arrows,’ she said frustratingly.
I looked at the phalanx of spearmen that were now rooted to the spot.
I smiled at her. ‘Do not worry. Marcus brings his ballista to thin their ranks. You have done what was required.’
I heard horn blasts and the low rumble of thousands of hooves churning up the ground and turned to see Orodes and the cataphracts smashing into the enemy’s centre, followed by a loud crunching noise as the heavy horsemen struck.
I smiled. The day may still be ours.
With the Babylonian guards we rode back to where the camel trains holding spare ammunition were located to the rear of our left wing. When Orodes had charged Surena had launched the horse archers against those on the enemy’s right wing, inflicting many casualties but his men also suffered significant losses. Now he too rode to the camels with his men to acquire fresh quivers. Meanwhile, to the north of our camps, my father and Vistaspa led over eleven thousand horsemen against the Zagros hordes.
Surena’s lion banner fluttered behind him as he rode over to Gallia an
d me, his men being handed full quivers by the camel drivers whose beasts were sitting on the ground.
‘The Medians holds the line while we restock our quivers, lord. The enemy has suffered many losses and falls back.’
‘What losses have you suffered?’ I asked him.
He looked pensive. ‘We also have many empty saddles, lord. Atrax’s men charged most valiantly and suffered the most.’
Gallia and the Amazons received fresh quivers from Dura’s camel train as a lull descended over our left wing. After we had replenished our stocks of arrows she and I rode with Surena to where Media’s horse archers were deployed in their companies in a long line that extended for at least half a mile eastwards. In front of them stretching south the ground was littered with dead men and horses, many of the corpses resembling pin cushions so many arrows did they have in them. In the distance, well out of bow range, enemy horse archers were being attacked by Orodes’ companies who were wheeling left to strike the enemy horsemen’s right flank.
I nodded. ‘Orodes has destroyed the enemy’s centre.’
Now it was time to send forward Surena and his horse archers to support Orodes to complete the rout of the enemy’s centre and right wing. After that the legions could attack once more to finally destroy the enemy foot soldiers in front of the date palm grove. We finally had victory within our grasp.
‘Can you hear that?’
I looked at Gallia who was sitting up in her saddle trying to look over the heads of the Amazons behind her. Then I heard the sound, an ominous rumble of thousands of cheering voices. Remus stirred nervously and I also became aware that the ground was shaking. Surena looked at me with concern and I knew that the battle was about to take another twist.
All thoughts of reinforcing Orodes disappeared as Surena, Gallia and I led Gordyene’s horse archers through the camel train to where my father’s men were battling the hill men. What I saw took my breath away.
Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles) Page 62
