Parthian Vengeance (The Parthian Chronicles)

by Darman, Peter

  ‘I did,’ she replied, ‘but unlike you I had not gone without sleep for three nights.’

  After drinking copious amounts of water and eating some fruit I was strong enough to walk back to my tent, though not before I had visited the stables to ensure that Remus had recovered. Awnings had been erected over the temporary stables to provide shade for the horses and as I entered his stall he walked over to me and nuzzled his nose in my chest. I stroked his neck.

  ‘Good to see you, old friend. I was worried about you.’

  ‘He’s fine now, though when he was brought in yesterday he was done in.’

  I recognised the coarse voice of Strabo behind me.

  ‘No riding him for at least a week. He’s not as young as he was despite what you think.’

  He leered at Gallia and bowed his head at her.

  ‘Majesty.’

  She frowned back as he stood beside me.

  ‘We lost five hundred horses yesterday to fatigue; their hearts just gave way.’ There was great sadness in his voice.

  I was astounded. ‘That many?’

  ‘That is just Dura. The other kings must have lost more, to say nothing of the hundreds of camels that have also been slaughtered. It is a right mess that will take a while to sort out.’

  ‘Do you think you will lose any more horses,’ asked Gallia with concern.

  Strabo faced her and stared at her breasts. ‘If all the fighting’s done then only a few. Those that are down probably won’t get up. But another battle will kill hundreds more, perhaps thousands.’

  ‘There will not be another battle,’ I reassured him.

  Domitus had been right: there had been only one more fight left in the army. It had been a close run thing but we had triumphed, but at a heavy cost. In my state of exhaustion Domitus had handed over control of the camp to Alcaeus and Marcus who set about their new responsibilities with gusto. The first thing the former did was to organise burial details to scour the battlefield to search for Duran dead. The morning roll call after the battle had revealed the names of individuals who were missing from the ranks, and once it had been established that they were not lying in hospital, parties were despatched to find their bodies. It was a grim business but in Dura’s army every man deserved to have a proper cremation if humanly possible. And so thousands of men picked through the dead to retrieve their fallen comrades, who were then consigned to huge pyres that sprang up on the plain.

  I gave orders that the body of Narses was to be dumped in the Karkheh, though not before the head was hacked off, taken south to Susa and then stuck on the end of a spear in front of the city walls. When word reached Orodes he immediately countermanded my desire, sending an officer of his bodyguard to explain to me that Narses deserved a cremation according to his high rank and that his men would take the body and deal with it. I was too drained to argue.

  The ditch on the eastern and northern sides of the camp was filled with dead hill men whose corpses were already starting to rot and stink, and so Alcaeus ordered that the earth from the ramparts behind these sections of the ditch be used to cover the thousands of corpses. Thousands more dead hill men lay scattered on the ground around the camp so these had to be collected and cremated.

  Later that day, in the early evening, Orodes called an assembly of the kings to take stock of our situation. Alcaeus had suggested that we relocate the camp to the River Dez seven miles to the east and I had agreed. To be in such close proximity to huge numbers of dead men and animals was to invite pestilence. There was little point in winning a victory if our army was subsequently wiped out by plague.

  ‘It does not seem like a victory,’ remarked Orodes, black rings round his eyes and his face dirty and unshaven. He looked as though he had not slept for a week.

  Gallia, Atrax, Surena, Viper and Gafarn also looked tired and drained, though Nergal and Praxima were both fresh faced. Orodes had also requested the presence of Marcus, Alcaeus and Domitus at the meeting.

  ‘The final victory, Orodes,’ I said.

  Orodes smiled thinly at me and looked at Marcus. ‘And what is the cost of our victory?’

  Marcus stood, cleared his throat and kept glancing at a parchment he held in his hand. ‘Well, sir, I have consulted with the other quartermasters and have arrived at the following totals. Of the foot soldiers, eight thousand Babylonians and a thousand legionaries were killed. Losses among the horsemen total fourteen hundred cataphracts and three hundred Babylonians killed and thirteen thousand horse archers slain.’

  ‘Thirteen thousand?’ exclaimed Surena with astonishment.

  ‘I am afraid so,’ remarked Marcus. ‘In addition, nearly four a half thousand squires were killed during the course of the battle. Finally, among the animals we have lost a combined total of eight thousand camels, ten thousand horses and four hundred mules.’

  There was a stunned silence. Losses of twenty-eight thousand killed, to say nothing of the hundreds more with serious wounds and thousands carrying minor injuries, represented a staggering number. Domitus had already informed me that a thousand legionaries, three hundred cataphracts and six hundred horse archers of Dura’s army had perished in the fighting. Among these were seventeen Companions whose names would be carved on the memorial in the Citadel to add to the list that was steadily filling the granite tiles. Seven Amazons had also fallen.

  ‘What about enemy losses?’ asked Atrax.

  Marcus picked up another parchment. ‘Well, sir, obviously we do not have access to the muster lists of the enemy. However, we have managed to carry out a rough calculation of the enemy’s losses based on the density of the dead in various parts of the battlefield combined with the area that the corpses cover, including the dead in and around the ditches surrounding the Duran camp. This equates to over eighty thousand killed.’

  Orodes looked appalled. ‘Eighty thousand?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ replied Marcus without sentiment. ‘We are burning and burying the bodies as fast as we can but I would recommend moving all your camps east to the Dez as Alcaeus has said.’

  The other kings nodded their heads in agreement. I could see that Orodes was still shocked by Marcus’ revelations. Nearly one hundred and ten thousand men and boys had been killed over the course of three days – nearly thirty-five thousand a day! I had never taken part in such a bloody battle and prayed that I would never do so again.

  ‘When do we assault Susa?’

  Thus far Domitus had remained silent, but ever the professional he was thinking about our next course of action. Susa still remained to be taken, which meant yet more bloodshed.

  ‘My machines can effect a breach of the walls,’ said Marcus, ‘to enable the city to be entered.’

  ‘We need at least a week to recover our strength before any further fighting can take place,’ I said.

  Domitus smiled maliciously. ‘Well, the city is not going anywhere. Let them stew while we surround the walls. Perhaps we could starve them out if you want to save more casualties.’

  ‘That is my city,’ said Orodes sternly. ‘I do not wish to starve my own people into submission.’

  Domitus shrugged. ‘An assault it is, then.’

  But Orodes deferred making any decision and then pointed out that our first priority was the funeral of my father.

  It took place later at sunset, the flames consuming his body as the sun descended in the west and Shamash prepared to leave the world at the end of another day, but not before my father’s spirit ascended to be welcomed into heaven by the sun god. I stood next to Gallia in the company of thousands as the fire roared and burned with a white-hot intensity to cast a red glow on our faces. I looked at the iron visage of Vistaspa, his injured leg supported by splints, as he stood without showing any emotion as the lord he had devoted his life to was cremated. Next to him stood my brother, the new King of Hatra. He had already sent a letter to my mother and sisters informing them of our father’s death. I thanked Shamash that Diana would be by my mother’s side when the news reache
d her.

  The next day Dura’s army moved to be beside the Dez and the forces of the other kings followed, and as the new camp was marked out and the surrounding ditch was dug Marcus and his Romans began checking the component parts of the large ballista that would be used to batter Susa. Parties were despatched to the site of the battlefield to continue consigning the dead to the fires, which included sections of enemy soldiers that had surrendered. The date palm grove was cut down to provide more firewood and companies of horse archers escorting empty wagons were sent north to the foothills of the mountains to cut down trees for more firewood. When they returned they reported seeing no parties of hill men.

  After a week a delegation arrived from the city in response to Orodes sending a demand to the city that it open its gates to him: four well-dressed individuals including the city governor with an armed escort. They were made to wait as he sent couriers to the other kings to request their presence to hear what these city dignitaries had to say. As they were no doubt creatures of Mithridates I had no interest in hearing their words but Gallia pestered me to go.

  ‘You know what Orodes is like when it comes to diplomacy and protocol,’ she said. ‘He will only be upset if you fail to attend.’

  ‘I would prefer to storm the city and hear what they have to say when they are on their knees before me.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Just go, Pacorus.’

  It was the first time I had ridden Remus since the battle and he appeared to have fully regained his strength, though sadly we had lost another three hundred horses in the interim. Strabo had told me this news earlier, which did nothing to lighten my mood. I wore my leather cuirass, white silk shirt and helmet for the meeting, the latter now sporting a huge white goose feather crest.

  The governor was a tall man with a long face, high forehead and a ridiculous moustache, the ends of which reached down to almost his shoulders. He wore a rich blue silk shirt adorned with gold round the neck and at the wrists. His brown hair was thinning in contrast to the others in his party, two of whom had thick black curly hair and beards while the fourth had straight brown hair. I was the last to arrive at Orodes’ tent as the other kings stood slightly behind him as he faced the nervous officials. The day was very hot and beads of sweat were showing on their faces. Orodes himself was dressed in his silver scale armour, purple shirt, white leggings and black boots. His hair was immaculate and he no longer had rings round his eyes. He looked every inch the high king of the empire.

  ‘Where is King Mithridates?’

  I smiled to myself. I would have used traitor, upstart, maggot or filth instead of the word ‘king’, but Orodes stuck rigidly to propriety at all times.

  The governor bowed his head deeply. ‘He left the city with his mother six days ago, highness.’

  ‘And you thought fit not to notify me of this immediately?’ snapped Orodes.

  The individuals behind the governor cast their heads down and perspired some more.

  ‘Forgive me, highness,’ pleaded the governor with a faltering voice, clasping his hands in front of him. ‘King Mithridates ordered us not to treat with you, on pain of death, saying that he would return with reinforcements. But no one has heard from him since.’

  ‘No surprise there,’ I said, earning me a frown from Orodes.

  ‘You will surrender the city immediately,’ he demanded, holding out a hand towards me, ‘otherwise I will let King Pacorus unleash his machines against your walls.’

  ‘You will have heard of my attack against Uruk a number of years ago,’ I remarked casually.

  The governor nodded his head gravely. ‘The city gates will be opened to you, highness, of course. And you will wish to inspect the treasure that was transported here from Ctesiphon several week ago, highness?’ Orodes turned to me and smiled. At least Mithridates had not absconded with all the wealth of the empire.

  Orodes rode into the city that afternoon at the head of a thousand fully armed cataphracts accompanied by the governor. Marcus was disappointed but I was delighted: having lost one in ten men in the army I had no appetite to suffer more losses.

  Thus ended the campaign that killed Narses and toppled Mithridates. I sent Byrd and Malik on a hunting expedition to track down Mithridates who we learned had absconded with several wagons loaded with treasure, but they returned a week later to report that he had seemingly vanished into thin air. This was bitter news, but the next day more palatable information arrived from Khosrou and Musa. Their march south had been more like a victory parade, with the kingdoms of Yueh-Chi, Anauon and Aria agreeing to recognise Orodes as king of kings in exchange for peace with Hyrcania and Margiana, especially after they had learned of our victory at Susa. Khosrou had written that these kingdoms had suffered many losses during the previous year’s campaign and above all desired peace. The return of the sons of their kings, who had been taken to Susa when Mithridates had fled Ctesiphon, also endeared Orodes to them. With Nergal having renewed his non-aggression agreement with Carmania, which allowed him to march to our aid, only the Kingdom of Drangiana remained as a potential enemy. However, King Vologases sent an urgent embassy to Susa declaring his unwavering support for Orodes. And so peace at last returned to an empire that was totally exhausted by years of internal strife.

  Orodes stayed at Susa to await the arrival of reinforcements sent by Mardonius to augment the new garrison of the city. His bodyguard, a thousand of Mesene’s horse archers, his two thousand Babylonian foot soldiers and what remained of Babylon’s royal guard stayed with him. Nergal would send more troops to escort the gold to Ctesiphon when Orodes decided to move the treasure back to the empire’s capital.

  After we had said our farewells to Orodes the kings took their depleted armies back to their homelands. Nergal travelled back to Mesene and Gafarn, Atrax and Surena rode north together two days before Dura’s army departed. It took us six weeks to march back to Dura, first catching sight of the Citadel late one afternoon after being buffeted by a sandstorm that had lasted for five hours. The population poured out of the city to welcome us back, young boys racing up to the column to search for their fathers among the legionaries or horsemen. I remembered another return to the city after the Battle of Surkh when mothers had held up their babies for their fathers to see. Those babies were now boys as we returned from yet another campaign. I also saw young mothers holding infants aloft and prayed to Shamash that these babies would not spend their childhoods anxiously waiting for the return of their fathers from war. Dura deserved peace; I deserved peace. I was done with fighting.

  The day after we had arrived back in the city I sat with Gallia relaxing on the palace terrace in the company of my daughters. Claudia told me that I looked old and haggard, while Isabella just grinned at me and Eszter ran around the terrace like a child possessed. Dobbai waved a hand at us as she took her seat and the nursery maids took charge of our daughters. Dobbai was too old for their boundless energy and one of my chief stewards told me that she spent most of her days on the terrace watching the traffic on the road and boats on the river, though she always made time for Claudia, telling her tales of the empire and the gods that protected it. To provide shade a pergola had been erected on the terrace made of vertical wooden posts and crossbeams with a canvas cover. I had suggested growing grape vines over it to provide shade but Dobbai had told me that when the fruit was ripening it would attract bees and she had no desire to be stung to death.

  After my two eldest daughters had departed to take their daily pony ride, and Eszter was taken off to the nursery, servants brought us fruit juice and pastries. A young serving girl gently touched Dobbai on the shoulder to wake her. Gallia smiled.

  ‘This peaceful setting makes a change to the carnage we have witnessed these past few weeks,’ she said.

  I raised my goblet to her. ‘Now that Orodes rules the whole of the empire we can look forward to many such days, my sweet. Here’s to peace.’

  I heard a low cackle. ‘Peace, son of Hatra? And how will a great warl
ord amuse himself if there are no enemies to conquer?’

  ‘He will watch his daughters grow up and inherit his kingdom, that is how.’

  Dobbai focused her black eyes on me. ‘Have you forgotten my words?’

  I had. ‘What words?’

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I don’t know how you put up with him, child,’ she said to Gallia. ‘His mind is like a great steppe: vast in its emptiness. I once told you, son of Hatra, that you would face two great armies, one from the east and one from the west, and so you will before you hang up your sword.’

  ‘I have faced these two hosts,’ I replied smugly, ‘the Armenians in the west and Narses and Mithridates in the east.’

  ‘Your infantile attempt to trick me has failed,’ she snapped. ‘You did not fight the Armenians, but you will have to fight the Romans.’

  I laughed. ‘The Romans? They are preoccupied with fighting the Jews. They will not be troubling Parthia for a long time.’

  But a month later, at the weekly council meeting, I was disabused of such notions when Aaron informed me that Alexander’s forces had suffered a crippling defeat in Judea and had been scattered. Byrd and Malik had also ridden to Dura to attend the meeting and they conveyed worse news.

  ‘My office in Antioch,’ said Byrd, looking at me apologetically, ‘reports that Mithridates and his mother are in the city.’

  These were ill tidings indeed. ‘What is he doing there?’ I asked, hoping that the answer would be that he was preparing to leave for exile in Rome.

  ‘He and Romani governor plan to invade Parthia,’ replied Byrd.

  ‘Your failure to kill Mithridates returns to haunt you,’ remarked Dobbai idly.

  ‘Is Alexander dead?’ I asked Aaron.

  ‘Not as far as I know, majesty,’ he replied.

  ‘Roman patrols are entering Agraci territory, Pacorus,’ said Malik. ‘Lord Vehrka’s men are encountering them on a daily basis.’

  ‘I am certain Alexander will continue his war against the Romans, majesty,’ said Aaron, probably trying to convince himself in addition to me.