Parthian Dawn

Chapter 10

That afternoon I rode with my father, Vardan and Chosroes to the palace. The heavy wooden gates opened to let us enter as soldiers observed us from the walls. Parthian armies have no knowledge of siege warfare and as far as I knew none of the empire’s kings had engines with which to batter down fortifications, so unless walls are particularly weak or ill-maintained there is little likelihood of a city falling to an assault. Usually starvation forces surrender, and as I rode through the gates at Ctesiphon the latter seemed most likely had we delayed but a few days more. The wide expanse of open ground between the walls and the palace was filled with tents, horses and camels — troops from Susiana who had remained loyal to Phraates together with the shattered remnants of Elymais’ army. Feeding such a multitude would have quickly emptied the palace storerooms. Inside the walled palace complex itself we were greeted by Prince Orodes, who, despite the fact that he had been besieged, still retained his cheerful disposition. He bowed to my father, Vardan and Chosroes and then embraced me.

‘It is good to see you, majesty.’

‘You don’t have to call me that, Orodes. Pacorus will suffice. We are, after all, friends are we not?’

‘My father and I certainly need all the friends we can get. Is Gallia with you?’

‘I sent her back to Dura. She’s pregnant.’

He shook my hand and beamed with delight. ‘This is indeed a happy day, Pacorus. Tonight we will celebrate and toast your wife, but first my father wishes to convey his gratitude.’

Our horses were taken from us and we walked up the palace steps and into the cool interior of Phraates’ palace. The high ceilings, yellow and blue painted walls and marble columns conveyed power and opulence whilst the immaculately dressed guards gave a sense of protocol and discipline. The ensuing ordered calm was in stark contrast to the disorder that currently raged outside the confines of the royal residence. Clerks and eunuchs scuttled around as Orodes escorted us into one of the throne rooms.

The large white doors inlaid with gold opened and we entered the seat of power, the same throne room where Sinatruces had made me King of Dura over two years before. How long ago it seemed now. That was a happy time, but the atmosphere in the room this time was far from joyous as we walked across the marble-tiled floor and bowed in front of the dais where Phraates sat next to his wife, Queen Aruna. I was shocked by how old Phraates looked. He was in his fifties and his hair had always been flecked with grey, but now there were large streaks of it in his mane, but what was more noticeable was how gaunt he looked. Sunken cheeks, bags under his eyes, his hands constantly fidgeting with the arms of his throne were indicative of the toll the rebellion had taken on him; that and the great weight upon his shoulders of being King of Kings. He did at least seem pleased to see us and raised his right hand in recognition.

‘Greetings King Varaz, King Chosroes and King Vardan. You are all most welcome. And greetings to you, King Pacorus, who have added more lustre to your reputation by your recent victory.’

I bowed my head once more. ‘Thank you, highness.’

Standing to the side of the dais, dressed in full war gear, was King Gotarzes of Elymais, whose army Narses had defeated and whose forces now sheltered inside the walls of the palace complex. He winked at me and I smiled back.

‘Do you intend to march after the rebels, highness?’ asked my father.

Phraates shifted uneasily on his throne. ‘Well, I was hoping to reach an accommodation with them. The empire needs peace.’

‘Peace, I absolutely agree,’ added Chosroes.

‘There can be peace after we have defeated Narses and his army,’ I said.

All eyes were upon me and I soon realised that I had made a mistake to speak thus. Phraates frowned and looked at his feet, while the queen fixed me with an icy stare. It was the first time that I had met Queen Aruna. She was younger than Phraates by about five years, I surmised. Some would call her beautiful, with thick black curly hair that flowed down to her shoulders, a square, olive-skinned face with a perfect complexion and big brown eyes. But it was a harsh beauty, for she had a haughty manner and a condescending attitude, born no doubt of her upbringing in the court at Puta, for she was the sister of King Phriapatus of Carmania, an eastern kingdom that had sided with Narses. And from the first day that I met her she was my enemy.

‘I do not wish to see the death of King Mithridates, my son, who currently accompanies King Narses,’ she said. ‘It is unbecoming for kings to kill each other. This is Parthia, not the barbarian wastelands of the steppes.’

So Mithridates was with Narses. It did not surprise me, the treacherous little snake.

‘The current difficult situation will be settled now that you all have arrived,’ said Phraates, ignoring his wife’s utterance. ‘Narses will see sense and return to Persis.’

‘Narses should be ordered here to explain his insolence,’ added Aruna, ‘and for luring away my innocent son from our side. Narses has obviously been bewitched, probably by that vile old hag who corrupted the divine Sinatruces.’

She shot me a hateful look. She was obviously alluding to Dobbai, and must have known that she now resided at Dura.

I caught the look of disbelief on Orodes’ face. I had no doubt that whatever the reason for Mithridates being with Narses, it had nothing to do with him being deceived, more likely naked ambition.

‘You wish to negotiate with your enemies, highness?’ asked my father.

Aruna looked daggers at my father, her eyebrows squeezed together, then at her husband.

Phraates cleared his throat. ‘They are not our enemies. They are our subjects, and as such I do not wish to make war upon them.’

The queen regarded us with a smug expression. I felt like we were small boys being chastised. Phraates rose from his throne and held out his hand to his queen, who took it and also stood up.

‘You must be tired after your journey.’ He gestured to one of his stewards standing by the dais. ‘You will be shown to your rooms. Tonight we will have a feast to celebrate your arrival, and tomorrow we will decide what action is to be taken.’

We bowed our heads as the king and queen left the room, after which Orodes and Gotarzes accompanied us to our quarters in the palace.

‘You arrived just in time, Varaz,’ said Gotarzes, ‘another week and we would have been starved out.’

The so-called ‘feast’ that evening was a dire event, the whole room drenched in an atmosphere of polite iciness. The queen pointedly ignored me, father and Vardan, though she did respond to the obsequiousness of Chosroes, whose mood had brightened markedly now that Phraates had stated his intention to avoid further bloodshed. I spoke to Orodes briefly before he took his place beside his parents at the top table. Then I took my seat on one of the long tables that had been arranged at right angles to the top table and which seated a host of courtiers dressed in bright yellows, greens, blues and reds. I sat next to Gotarzes, who I think was glad of my company.

‘Are your family safe, lord?’ I asked him.

He was taking large gulps from his silver cup. ‘Yes, thank you. I sent them north to Khosrou, they’ll be safe at Merv. So what do you think of our queen of queens.’

‘You mean Queen Aruna?’

He drained his cup and held it out to a servant for it to be refilled. ‘Yes, that’s the bitch.’

‘You dislike her?’

‘Intensely. I did not realise that when we made Phraates King of Kings, we were in fact making her the ruler of the Parthian Empire.’

‘Really?’ I was unsure whether it was the drink talking.

He looked at me wryly. ‘I’ve been cooped up here in this zoo long enough to know where the real power lies. She’s like a hawk and makes sure that she has a say in everything Phraates decides. Bitch!’

He said the last word loudly enough to turn the heads of the high king and his queen, the latter looking hatefully at Gotarzes.

He took another gulp of wine and continued. ‘It’s easy to see how she could spawn such an evil little bastard like Mithridates.’

‘But Orodes is also her son,’ I said.

‘Her adopted son. Orodes’ mother was a concubine of Sinatruces whom Phraates fell in love with. Sinatruces forgave her infidelity, for a son born to a king, even a bastard one, is worth having. The result of his passion sits at the top table, and a fine young man he is, but Aruna’s poisonous blood does not flow in his veins, thank God. Aruna never forgave her husband’s infidelity, rumour has it, and he’s full of remorse, the stupid idiot.’

‘What happened to the concubine?’

A wicked smile crept over Gotarzes’ face. ‘Died of a fever, some say, though others maintain that she was poisoned by queen bitch over there. I am inclined to believe the latter. Bitch!’

He was now quite drunk and full of resentment. Queen Aruna had heard his last word.

‘You have something to say, King Gotarzes?’

Gotarzes rose to his feet unsteadily and what little chatter there was died instantly. ‘I do.’

The disdainful look on the face of Gotarzes made me realise that he was about to tell the queen exactly what he thought of her. The look of alarm on Orodes’ face confirmed this. I therefore stood up and spoke first.

‘King Gotarzes and I would like to thank your majesties for a most magnificent feast.’

My father lent back in his chair and regarded me with curiosity, while Vardan looked confused, for even an imbecile would know that this evening was an excruciating affair.

The queen frowned. ‘I see. And are those his words or yours?’

‘I do not need you to speak for me, Pacorus.’

‘Indeed not,’ snapped the queen. Her attention now turned to me.

‘I have heard, King Pacorus, that you insulted my son at Esfahan.’

I could see where Mithridates got his talent for bearing grudges from. Phraates still said nothing but merely watched with a worried look.

I saw no reason to lie. ‘You heard correctly, majesty.’

For a brief moment she was lost for words, but then her disdainful look retuned, her jaw jutting forward.

‘You think it wise to insult the son of the King of Kings?’

I was rapidly losing patience. ‘I would not have to if he had learnt some manners. But if it makes you feel better, I will apologise to him now. Where is he? Oh, I forgot, he’s fighting with the rebels.’

Gotarzes clapped his hands, guffawed and sat back down.

The queen turned to her husband. ‘Are you going to let such insolence in your court go unpunished?’

My father stood up to defend me. But before he or Phraates could say anything I walked over the top table and bowed my head to the queen.

‘I apologise unreservedly for any offence I may have given. Too much wine, I fear.’

Phraates looked mightily relieved and the queen scowled at me.

‘Well, too much wine can certainly provoke a rash tongue,’ said Phraates. ‘We accept your apology.’

My father looked most displeased as I retook my seat, while Gotarzes gave me a heavy slap on the back.

‘I wouldn’t have apologised to the bitch.’

‘I know, that’s what I was worried about.’

The evening deteriorated further when a message was brought to Phraates by one of his stewards, prompting him to shake his head, stand and walk briskly from the banqueting hall, his viper of a wife scurrying after him. We all stood as they did so, and afterwards the kings gathered round my father.

‘I wonder what that was about?’ said Vardan.

‘No doubt we will know soon enough,’ replied my father.

‘No doubt. Well, Varaz,’ Gotarzes was now very drunk, ‘the error of our ways in not making you chief over us all is now plain to see. Perhaps we should march out and join Narses. I’m sure his feasts are not such dire occasions, at least.’

My father acknowledged his words with a faint nod, then he turned to me.

‘You did not help, Pacorus. You really do need to learn the art of diplomacy.’

‘Diplomacy? Perhaps, but being treated like a slave has no appeal, father. I tried it once in Italy and found it most disagreeable.’

Gotarzes laughed and Vardan smiled. A sheepish Orodes joined us.

‘I apologise for my step-mother, Pacorus, she can be a little hot-headed.’

Gotarzes put an arm round his shoulder. ‘Not your fault, young prince, your father should have taken his belt to that bitch years ago.’

Orodes looked even more awkward, and several of the courtiers who were still standing at their tables looked at the drunken king with contempt on their faces.

‘I think,’ said my father, ‘that it would be sensible to retire to our quarters and put this evening behind us.’

‘Better lock your door, Pacorus,’ slurred Gotarzes, ‘else the queen might creep into your room and stick a knife between your ribs.’

The queen did not try to kill me that evening, I am pleased to say, and the next morning we were all summoned to Phraates’ throne room once more. The king looked even paler and more haunted than ever, while the queen, dressed in a stunning close-fitting pure white gown accentuating her voluptuous figure, her arms adorned with gold bracelets, armlets and a necklace of gold at her throat, eyed us warily. I noticed that Phraates held a letter in his right hand. We stood in a line before him — my father, myself, Vardan, Gotarzes, now sober thankfully, and Chosroes — and bowed our heads.

‘As if I don’t have enough troubles.’ Phraates was staring at the floor in front of us as he spoke. ‘The Romans have sent this letter demanding a meeting with me to clarify the borders between our two empires. To add insult to injury, they want the meeting to take place in Gordyene.’

‘An outrage,’ said my father.

‘Indeed it is,’ replied Phraates, ‘but a calculated one. They have obviously heard of our recent troubles and hope to take advantage of them.’

‘You should refuse to meet them until they withdraw from Gordyene, highness,’ said Chosroes.

‘A show of strength is what’s needed,’ added Vardan.

‘That would be my first thought, but unfortunately,’ said my father, ‘the whole of Hatra’s army cannot be sent to face them in Gordyene, not while half of it is sitting here in Ctesiphon.’

I noticed that while this interchange was going on Phraates and Aruna were looking at me, which made me feel uncomfortable. Eventually, the king spoke to me.

‘Pacorus, you among us have had close dealings with these Romans. What is your opinion on this matter?’

‘They will not respond to threats, not unless they can be backed up with overpowering force. And if they cannot then they will regard you as weak. The Romans only respect strength. They are testing you, highness.’ I cleared my throat, aware that my father and the other kings were also listening closely to my words. ‘They undoubtedly know about the civil war in Parthia, perhaps they fomented it.’

Aruna was going to object but Phraates raised his hand to still her. He was clearly interested in what I had to say.

‘And what would you suggest that I do?’

‘Meet them, highness,’ I said. ‘At the very least it will buy time for Farhad of Media to muster his army and add it to your own forces should it come to war.’

‘We need Farhad here,’ growled my father.

‘Believe me, father, his men are needed where the Romans are. We can beat Narses easily enough, if the efforts of Porus are anything to go by. The Romans are a different prospect.’

‘The Romans are barbarians,’ sneered the queen.

‘Barbarians?’ I looked her directly in the eye. ‘That may be, but Narses’ army contains numerous contingents, not used to working together. The Romans are better equipped and more organised, and Parthia does not want a Roman army rampaging on its western frontier.’

‘While Narses rampages in the east,’ said Gotarzes.

‘Believe me, lord,’ I continued, ‘the Romans are the bigger threat. I know how they fight. They pose the greatest immediate danger.’

Phraates held up his hand again and sighed. He leaned forward and looked at me.

‘I will meet these Romans, and you, Pacorus, will come with me. The rest of you will stay here and prepare to face Narses, should it come to that. Though for now I have sent couriers to him requesting a halt to hostilities and a meeting to discuss how we might resolve our differences peacefully. I will leave for Gordyene tomorrow.’

He waved us away and we departed. I decided to leave the palace and return to my command tent, finding the company there far more agreeable. The camp had been established immediately south of the palace, the neat rows of the tents and the palisade on the earth rampart reassuring me of the strength of Dura’s army. Legionaries practised their drills outside the large, rectangular camp and Nergal put my cataphracts, attired in full war gear, through their paces. In the afternoon I called him, Domitus and the lords to my tent and told them of my impending journey to Gordyene. They all wanted to accompany me, but I informed them that I would take only my cataphracts. We would ride directly north to Irbil and then on to Gordyene. It would take about six days. I dismissed the lords and told Nergal and Domitus to remain. I informed them of what had happened in the palace.

‘Phraates has no stomach for a fight,’ I said. ‘He seeks peace when he should be striking at the heart of Narses.’

‘The Romans will smell his fear when they meet him,’ said Domitus.

‘That is what I am worried about.’

‘Then you have to convince them that there is steel in Parthia.’

‘We should march with you, Pacorus,’ said Nergal.

I shook my head. ‘No, Nergal, your cavalry and the legion are needed here. If Narses attacks my father will need all the men he can get hold of to beat him.

‘There is another thing. I do not trust the mother of Mithridates. She may be in communications with him for all I know. Take orders only from my father, no one else, and certainly not from any commanders in the pay of Phraates.’

I told this to my father that evening in the company of Vardan, Chosroes, Gotarzes and Vistaspa, all of whom I had invited to dine with me.

‘We are supposed to be loyal subjects of Phraates,’ said my father.

‘And so I am, father, but I owe no loyalty to his wife.’

‘Agreed,’ said Gotarzes, who tonight was drinking water, not wine. ‘We should strike at Narses and kill him and Mithridates, for there will be no peace until both of them are food for vultures.’

‘I have to concur with your son, Varaz,’ added Vardan. ‘Phraates wastes his time sending envoys of peace to Narses. The only reason Narses retreated is because we arrived. He may attack when he learns that Phraates has been called away from his palace.’

‘How will he learn that?’ asked my father.

‘Queen bitch will tell him,’ spat Gotarzes.

My father held up his hands. ‘Friends, idle speculation will get us nowhere. We should concentrate on the here and now.’

Gotarzes looked at my father. ‘Have you forgotten, Varaz, that Narses sacked my kingdom and reduced me to the status of a beggar at the court of Phraates?’

My father looked serious. ‘Of course not, my old friend.’

‘We will restore you to your kingdom, lord,’ I said, ‘after we have dealt with the Romans.’

‘And how will you deal with them?’ asked Chosroes, staring at Domitus sitting beside me.

‘By trying to convince them that any further incursions into Parthian territory will cost them a high price in blood.’

‘And if you don’t convince them?’ asked Vardan.

‘Then we shall have to fight them, lord,’ I replied.

The evening thus ended on a sombre note, though I was confident that we could at least buy some time with regard to the Romans. I rose before dawn and assembled my cataphracts, both men and horses wearing full armour. I wore my black cuirass and Roman helmet with a white goose feather crest, my spatha at my hip and my bow in its case secured to my saddle. As the morning sun began its ascent in the eastern sky my father appeared at the entrance to the camp, Vistaspa beside him. An easterly breeze had picked up, which caused my griffin banner to flutter as Vagharsh held it in front of the two hundred horsemen that stood to attention, the steel masks covering their faces presenting a fearsome appearance. Behind them the mounted squires held the reins of camels loaded with spare armour, clothing, horseshoes, lances, bows, arrows, and food for both horses and men. Each squire led two camels — such was the amount of equipment needed to maintain a formation of cataphracts.

Nergal held the reins of Remus as my father dismounted and we embraced.

‘Take care, Pacorus.’

‘You too, father.’

He placed an arm around my shoulder and led me away from my men. ‘You must be careful, Pacorus.’

‘Of Phraates?’

‘No, of getting the empire involved in a war with the Romans. Phraates, unfortunately, is letting events dictate his actions instead of the other way round. He needs to be firm with the Romans, but not provoke them into launching a war. It will require great diplomatic skill, which I am not sure that he has. In his enthusiasm for preventing conflict he may give the impression that he is weak.’

‘The Romans will be looking for signs of weakness,’ I agreed.

‘Exactly, so you must convey strength without issuing threats, to sow the seeds of doubt in their minds.’

‘It will not be easy, father.’

He smiled at me. ‘I have every faith in you.’

‘Just don’t give battle to Narses before I get back.’

‘Who said anything about fighting Narses?’

‘You think he is going to quietly disband his army and retire to Persis?’

My father said nothing, but the expression on his face told me that he did not think so. We embraced once more and then I rode out of camp at the head of my column of riders, six hundred camels in tow. We rode to the palace gates and waited for the king, who appeared at the head of five hundred cataphracts commanded by Lord Enius, the man who had escorted Gallia and me to the court of Sinatruces over two years before. A thickset man in his forties, his men wore open-faced helmets with blue plumes. Their scale armour covered their torsos, arms and thighs and they each wore yellow cloaks that billowed in the breeze. Their mounts were also covered in scale armour, though some of the scales were made of silver, off which the sun glinted. Together with the blue pennants fluttering beneath the points of their kontus, they presented a magnificent sight. Behind Phraates, who wore a gold crown around the top of his helmet, flew the banner of the King of Susiana — an eagle clutching a snake in its talons. It was an apt standard for Mithridates was indeed a snake, though I wondered if his father would ever have him in his talons?

‘A fine morning, Pacorus,’ said Phraates, who appeared refreshed and in good spirits.

‘Indeed, highness,’ I replied.

‘Well, then, let us begin our adventure.’

It took us six days of hard riding to reach Irbil, Farhad’s capital. As soon as we had left the vicinity of Ctesiphon we took off our armour and stowed it on the camels to speed our journey. We stayed for one day only in the city, enough time to see my sister and her new husband. They both seemed happy enough and I found Aliyeh in a carefree mood, the first time in my life that I had seen my serious sister thus.

‘Marriage suits you,’ I told her.

‘I am happy here, Pacorus. And you look ever the warrior.’

I shrugged. ‘I do not look for war, but it always seems to find me.’

‘And are you here to fight a war?’ My serious sister suddenly returned.

‘Hopefully not, at least I will try to avoid it if I can.’

‘I don’t want to be a widow before I have yet to get used to being a bride.’

I laid my hand on her arm. ‘I won’t let anything happen to Atrax, fear not.’

‘Good, because he wants to be just like you.’

I burst out laughing. ‘To be like me?’

She raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Of course, for do you not know that you are famous? You return from the dead with a foreign princess, you are made a king with the help of a sorceress, you make an alliance with the heathen Agraci and become rich by creating a trade route with Egypt, and you win a great victory against impossible odds in a matter of minutes.’

I have to confess that I was pleased with such acclaim, though I pretended otherwise. ‘Surely people have better things to gossip about?’

She shook her head. ‘You are wrong, for the news of Pacorus of Dura travels like wildfire to the far corners of the empire. The people here were worried about the Romans massing to the north, but when we heard that you were coming their fears vanished like spring snow.’

‘I come to advise Phraates, nothing more.’

She curled her lip. ‘Phraates? A man whose own son rebels against him. He is a broken reed.’

I pointed a finger at her. ‘He is the King of Kings. I voted for him and will stay loyal to him, whatever happens.’

She smiled a beautiful smile and embraced me. ‘Pacorus the strong, Pacorus the unyielding. I think Phraates thanks Shamash every night that he has such warriors as you by his side.’

‘Shut up,’ I chided her, ‘you are being ridiculous.’

Atrax himself then appeared dressed in his leather tunic reinforced with small steel scales. He had the angular face and lithe body of his father. His light-brown hair was shoulder length and his beard and moustache were neatly trimmed. He embraced me warmly.

‘We ride out tomorrow to face the Romans?’

I saw Aliyeh looking at me. ‘We go to discuss matters with the Romans,’ I corrected him.

‘You have beaten them many times, I have heard.’

‘A few times, yes.’

‘Then I’m sure they will run back to Rome when they know that you are with us,’ he beamed.

‘Perhaps, Atrax, perhaps.’

Farhad had made great efforts to assemble his army at short notice, calling in his lords from far and wide. And so, on the morrow, as we descended from his fortress at Irbil, ten thousand soldiers cheered his dragon banner. He had five hundred cataphracts of his own, to which were added a thousand horse archers of his royal guard. The lords of his kingdom brought their own retinues — horse archers, mounted spearmen with great round shields that protected the whole of their sides from their neck to their thighs, spearmen on foot with long shafts that were tipped with wicked points and had ferocious butt spikes, and foot archers who carried only their bows and quivers. Trumpets and horns blasted as Farhad and his son took their place at the head of their army, while behind them horsemen banged on kettledrums to encourage the troops. These instruments were a pair of hemispherical wooden drums with animal hide stretched over them, positioned either side of the front of the saddle, the rider striking the membranes with wooded sticks to produce a thumping sound that reverberated across the plain. And in front of the host marching north to meet the Roman invaders of our empire flew the banners of Dura, Susiana and Media.

It was fifty miles north to our meeting point at the border between Media and Gordyene, at the Shahar Chay River in the Urmia Plain. The Shahar Chay was one of the rivers that flowed into Lake Urmia, the vast saltwater lake that marked the northern boundary between the Parthian kingdoms of Gordyene and Atropaiene.

The Umbria Valley is wide and fertile, and even though the spring had yet to erupt the area was still covered in green. This was rich country, and despite the fact that Media did not benefit from the Silk Road the kingdom was blessed with rich agricultural lands that produced grapes, honey and apples in abundance. In addition, the lush pastures meant good breeding grounds for horses that were sold throughout the empire; indeed, my father often purchased mounts for his own army to supplement the stud farms of Hatra.

We arrived at the river to find the Romans already formed up on the northern side, row upon row of legionaries dressed in mailed shirts, helmets and carrying pila and shields. I counted two eagles, which equated to two legions, though there was also an abundance of auxiliary troops — slingers, archers and lightly armed spearmen carrying large round shields — deployed on the wings of the legions. Horsemen were stationed on the extreme flanks of each wing, though they were sparse in number, perhaps six hundred in total. I estimated the length of the Roman line to be two miles. In front of the legionaries, on beautifully groomed and equipped horses, were the senior Roman officers, half a dozen in number.

The river meandered lazily towards the great lake, for as yet the spring melt waters from the mountains had yet to flow and swell its torrent. The day was crisp, windless and calm, and were it not for the thousands of soldiers present it would also be peaceful. I smiled to myself when I saw the raft anchored in the water. The Romans, efficient as ever, had secured it in the mid-point of the river. The water itself was shallow at this spot, though the high banks on either side showed how it rose when the melt waters were raging.

The Romans sent over a mounted courier asking if we needed a boat to transport Phraates and his representatives to the raft, but Phraates declined. He did not trust the Romans, I think, though in truth he was in no danger of being assassinated. The Romans liked to defeat their enemies on the battlefield with the world watching, not murder them like thieves in the night. We would ride our horses into the water — I joined Phraates, Farhad and Enius, together with two other men who would take our mounts back to the southern riverbank until our discussions were completed. We relayed this to the courier, who took the message back to his masters. The Romans sent the same number of representatives as us, though they did use a small boat that was rowed across to the raft. Phraates, Enius and Farhad looked magnificent that day in their scale armour of burnished silver plates, shining steel helmets sporting plumes and richly adorned shirts. I too had made an effort to impress, in my black cuirass, Roman helmet with its white crest and white tunic. We all wore our cloaks, for the air was cool on the water.

The Romans, by comparison, presented a more weatherworn appearance, especially their commander, a man in his early forties who was almost bald aside from some hair above his ears. He had a narrow, lean face that looked like a strip of parched rawhide with a slim nose running down the centre. He stood at least six inches shorter than us and had a compact frame. No doubt Phraates took his smaller stature as a sign of inferiority, but I could see that this Roman had a professional bearing whose narrow eyes missed nothing. The officers with him were dressed as he was- helmets with red crests, muscled cuirasses and red cloaks and tunics. Each carried a gladius at his hip. One of them stepped forward and saluted.

‘Greetings, my name is Titus Amenius, tribune of Rome. I would like to present to you my general, the consul Lucius Licinius Lucullus, Governor of Asia and Cilicia.’

I heard Phraates take a sharp intake of breath, for to use such a title implied sovereignty over the lands that did not belong to Rome, for ‘Asia’ was an all-encompassing word.

Lord Enius stepped forward and bowed his head to the Romans.

‘Greetings. I am General Enius, commander of the army of Phraates, King of Kings of the Parthian Empire and ruler of all the lands from the Euphrates to the Indus.’

Lucullus raised an eyebrow at this, for his presence here today was a sign that Phraates did not at this time rule all of the area that Enius had just described. Enius then presented Farhad and myself, stating that we were the kings of Media and Dura respectively. Lucullus said nothing, though he kept looking at me as we all sat down in the high-backed chairs made more comfortable by cushions that had been arranged beforehand. A pagoda made from canvas and poles had been erected on the raft, though the sky was clear and I doubted that we would see any rain this day. There were no refreshments on the raft, for protocol dictated that no bread or wine could be shared with potential enemies. Phraates spoke first, looking directly at Lucullus.

‘Why do the Romans make war upon Parthia?’

Lucullus leaned back in his chair and regarded this foreign king sitting opposite him. Domitus had once told me that the Romans equated long hair with effeminacy and weakness, and as most Parthians wore their hair long, no doubt Lucullus thought us all inferior. In addition, the other kings sported beards and moustaches, though ever since my time in Italy I had maintained a clean-shaven appearance.

Eventually Lucullus spoke, his voice deep and commanding. ‘I am empowered by the Senate and People of Rome to make war upon Rome’s enemies. For many years our great republic has been at war with King Mithridates of Pontus and King Tigranes of Armenia. This war is now coming to an end with the defeat of those two enemies. Balas, late king of Gordyene, gave aid to Tigranes and was similarly defeated. As a result, Gordyene has become a client kingdom of Rome.’

‘The land you occupy is Parthian,’ said Phraates purposely.

‘The land we won in battle belonged to an enemy of Rome,’ replied Lucullus.

Phraates looked hesitant and cast a glance at me. A strong-willed man like his father would have thrown the Roman’s words back in his face, but Phraates was not such a man. An awkward pause followed. I decided to end it.

‘How many wars can Rome afford to fight?’ I asked.

‘King Pacorus,’ said Phraates, ‘is a man who has knowledge of your people.’

‘Thank you, highness,’ I said. ‘So tell me, Consul Lucullus, are you empowered to wage war on the Parthian Empire, a war that will make your conflicts with Pontus and Armenia seem like mere child’s play by comparison?’

Lucullus now studied me more closely. He must have recognised my Roman cuirass and helmet, but I was obviously not a Roman. His officers also focused their attention on me, nodding and whispering to each other.

‘I am empowered to make war on all of Rome’s enemies,’ replied Lucullus.

‘But Parthia and Rome are not at war,’ I said.

‘Not yet,’ uttered one of Lucullus’ men, which earned him a rebuke from his commander.

‘Be careful, Roman,’ my blood was now up, ‘for I have fought and defeated Roman legions in the past. You think we are weak because we grow our hair long and sport beards, but the soldiers you see arrayed against you today are only a fraction of what the empire can muster. You tangle with Parthia at your peril.’

‘Thank you, King Pacorus,’ Phraates was clearly worried that I was provoking the Romans, ‘but we do not desire enmity, but rather wish there to be peace between our two great empires.’

But Lucullus was not listening to Phraates. ‘Where have you fought Romans?’ he asked me.

‘Did I not say? How rude of me,’ I replied. ‘I spent three years in Italy campaigning with General Spartacus. I have to confess that I forget how many eagles we took.’

I noted surprise in his eyes, quickly followed by a cold contempt, while behind him his officers became agitated. I decided to add to their discomfort.

‘And I remember in particular, consul, entertaining your troops on a beach north of Brundisium once. We killed many that day.’

Lucullus’ expression of contempt did not change, but his eyes narrowed as he said to me. ‘You’re “the Parthian”, aren’t you?’

My spine tingled with excitement at the mention of that name. ‘That is what I was called by my enemies in Italy, and it was a title I bore with pride.’ In that moment I felt elated.

‘Yes, consul, I am he.’

‘I had heard that you were dead.’

‘As you can see, consul, reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.’

To his credit Lucullus did not let his emotions take control of him, though he must have been seething inside. The war that Spartacus waged in Italy was a great insult to the Romans, not least because his army was made up of slaves, who in Roman eyes were like animals that existed only to serve their masters.

‘You were once a slave and now you are a king.’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘My congratulations.’

‘I was a prince,’ I corrected him, ‘before being made a slave by Rome.’

‘Do you seek recompense from Rome, King Pacorus, is that why you are here?’

‘No, consul. I am here because my high king did me the great honour of requesting my presence at his side. In truth I am just one Parthian king among many. But consider this. If but one Parthian with a handful of horsemen can wreak such damage in your homeland, think what tens of thousands could do to your army, an army that is so far from home.’

‘Rome does not respond to threats, Parthian.’

I smiled at him. ‘I make no threat, consul, merely an observation. For are we not here to try to avoid conflict? Why look for war unnecessarily?’

‘Why, indeed?’ added Phraates.

Lucullus regarded us all, weighing up in his mind the options available to him at that moment. And behind us, lined up along the riverbank were our horsemen and foot soldiers, staring across the water at the centuries and cohorts of the Romans. Whatever his thoughts he decided that he would not be drawing his sword this day, for he abruptly stood and raised his right arm in salute to Phraates.

‘Great king, I thank you for your courtesy today. Know that I desire no conflict with the Parthian Empire, and that I will be communicating with the Senate in Rome for the resolution of the issue of Gordyene forthwith.’

Phraates bowed his head in gratitude. ‘Thank you, consul, I have no doubt that we can maintain a beneficial peace between our two great empires. I look forward to receiving a satisfactory conclusion to the matter of Gordyene.’

Lucullus said nothing further to me, though he did take a last look in my direction before he and his officers departed for the far bank, while Enius signalled for our horses to be brought to the raft. Thus ended the diplomacy on the Shahar Chay River.

Phraates was in jovial spirits on the journey back to Irbil, thinking that he had achieved a bloodless victory.

‘You obviously frightened him, Pacorus,’ he said, though I doubted that.

‘If that is all the men he has,’ said Farhad, ‘then we have nothing to fear from that particular Roman.’

How they underestimated the Romans. Media alone could put more men into the field than Lucullus, of that I had no doubt, but Roman strength was built on discipline and organisation, something that most Parthian armies lacked. Lightly armed foot soldiers who worked the land for a living and horse archers who fought as a war band for their lord were no match for highly trained legionaries. Every kingdom had palace guards and formations of professional horsemen, but only Hatra had a standing army plus my own kingdom of Dura. If it had come to a fight this day, Lucullus’ soldiers would have made short work of Media’s army. I kept these thoughts to myself as the host made its way back to Farhad’s capital. Atrax was feeling very pleased with himself. He relaxed on a couch in his father’s palace eating grapes with one hand while his other arm was around Aliyeh’s shoulders.

‘The Romans backed down in the face of our strength, darling.’ He kissed Aliyeh on the cheek. ‘They will scurry back to Italy now.’

A servant brought me a cup of freshly squeezed apple juice. ‘I doubt that, Atrax. You must keep a keen eye on your northern frontier. Above all, try to convince your father not to launch any raids into Gordyene, at least until we have had time to deal with Narses.

He waved his hand at me. ‘This Lucullus has only a small army, feeble compared to the numbers we can put in the field. He would not dare to provoke a fight with Media.’

I smiled. He had only just turned twenty and wanted to impress his new bride more than anything else. He had never seen the face of battle, and the fact that there had been no fight at the river made him thirst for military glory even more. He had been in the midst of thousands of soldiers, smelt the leather armour, harnesses, sweat and scent of the horses, seen the brightly coloured banners and whetted spear points, and been so close to the enemy. He must have been chaffing at the bit, ready to charge across the river and slay the Romans as a farmer scythes wheat.

‘You do not think so, do you Pacorus?’ My sister may have been in love, but it had not dulled her sharp mind.

‘No.’

She pressed me further. ‘Why not?’

I drank from my cup; the liquid was cool and refreshing. ‘Because the Romans are a proud and arrogant people, and those two traits will not allow them to yield.’

Atrax was delighted by my answer. ‘Then we will fight them.’

‘As I said, let us settle the business with Narses before anything else,’ I said. ‘One war at a time, Atrax. Remember that.’

I doubted he was listening. A new bride, an enemy lying so close to his father’s frontier and the promise of fame and glory were too intoxicating to listen to reason. I prayed that the peace would last long enough for us to return and reinforce Media’s army.

‘Two months, Pacorus, that is how long I will give the Romans.’

After saying our farewells to Farhad, Atrax and my sister, I rode back to Ctesiphon with Phraates and Enius.

It had suited Phraates to be away from the poisonous confines of Ctesiphon. The journey north and the favourable outcome of the meeting with Lucullus had restored colour to his cheeks and made him much more positive. Today, on our way back to Ctesiphon, he was in a bullish mood.

‘Two months, that is all, then I shall demand their withdrawal from Gordyene and march at the head of an army to retake it if they refuse.’

‘There is the matter of Narses still to be addressed, highness,’ said Enius.

‘Narses has withdrawn,’ replied Phraates. ‘He will be seeking an audience with me to beg for my forgiveness, of that I am sure. We have you to thank for that, Pacorus.’

I was surprised. ‘Me, highness?’

‘Of course, for your defeat of Porus sent a clear message to those who rebel against our royal power. That if they do so they will face certain destruction. I should have had you at court much earlier.’

That thought filled me with dread. In any case Phraates deluded himself, and when we were on the road to Ctesiphon he soon had a stark reminder of harsh reality. Nergal, accompanied by Byrd, Malik and a dozen horse archers, met us fifty miles from the royal palace. Nergal looked resplendent in his white tunic, mail shirt and helmet, while Malik was dressed in his black robes. Byrd looked as dishevelled as ever, made worse by several days’ worth of hair on his face.

Nergal bowed his head to Phraates as our column halted on the road. ‘Hail, highness.’

‘This is Nergal, highness,’ I said, ‘my second-in-command.’

‘Why do you interrupt our journey?’ said Phraates.

‘I bring news of King Narses, highness.’

Phraates turned to me and smiled. ‘You see, Pacorus, what did I tell you. He is eager to atone for his errant ways.’

The look on Nergal’s face suggested otherwise. I avoided the king’s gaze as Nergal relayed his news.

‘King Narses approaches Ctesiphon with a great army, highness. Your presence at Ctesiphon is urgently requested.’

Phraates visibly wilted before my eyes, as if some magic spell had suddenly been cast upon him. He said nothing, then nudged his horse forward past all of us. We followed him, Nergal falling in beside me as Enius rode forward to ride beside his king.

‘So,’ I said, ‘I assume that Narses is moving his army towards Ctesiphon to give battle and not surrender it.’

‘Yes, lord,’ replied Nergal. ‘Byrd and Malik rode east to find out more about his movements. They returned yesterday.’

‘Enemy army very big,’ said Byrd. ‘Many more men than your army.’ He nodded towards the stooped figure of Phraates riding ahead of us. ‘Might be wise for him to seek peace.’

‘Numbers are not everything,’ I said. ‘Remember when we fought in Italy. We were often outnumbered.’

Byrd looked unconcerned. The affairs of kings probably did not interest him in the slightest, then he nodded again towards Phraates. ‘He no Spartacus.’

‘We rode towards Susa, Pacorus,’ said Malik. ‘Narses’ army has marched west to the Tigris and then north into the desert. He now turns west again to strike at Ctesiphon.’

‘He will be at Ctesiphon in four days,’ added Byrd.

When we reached Ctesiphon Phraates resembled the old man whom we had accompanied north to Media. After a short interlude to allow us to wash and refresh ourselves, he convened a war council in his study in the palace’s expansive private apartments. The study was large but surprisingly sparse for the King of Kings. It consisted of a large desk, pigeonholes on one wall that held parchments and scrolls, a couch and several well-appointed chairs that had been arranged in a semi-circle in front of his desk. And behind his desk, fixed to the wall, was wood panelling, upon which had been painted a beautifully detailed map of the Parthian Empire, a domain now threatened with being torn asunder. Phraates was sitting behind the desk with his chin in his hands, his elbows resting on the table. His eyes followed each of us as we entered, bowed and sat in a chair. Servants offered us fruit juice or water from silver trays, while others presented sweet meats and pastries. I sat down next to my father, while on my other side Orodes, Gotarzes, Vardan and Chosroes found their places. Enius stood next to Phraates, who at last spoke.

‘Gentlemen, you will all know by now that Narses and his army are approaching Ctesiphon. The question is — how will we deal with this predicament?’

Chosroes, much to my surprise, spoke first. ‘It is better to seek a peaceful outcome, I think, highness.’

Phraates sat back in his chair and nodded. ‘I agree, we will try to come to terms with Narses.’

‘I have heard that his numbers have been swelled since he was previously before your palace, highness,’ said Vardan.

‘Apparently so,’ replied the king.

‘And you think this predisposes Narses to peace, highness?’ My father’s words made Phraates shift uneasily in his chair.

‘I would hope that he remembers that we are all Parthian at the end of the day.’

‘And what of my kingdom?’ Gotarzes said.

Phraates looked at him. ‘You can be assured, King Gotarzes, that the restitution of your lands will be at the top of the agenda when we sit down and talk with Narses.’

Gotarzes mumbled something in reply which I did not hear, after which there was an awkward silence. I stared at the king’s desk, for I believed all talk about discussions to be a waste of time. I was glad that conflict had been avoided with the Romans in Media, but Narses and his band of rebels posed a greater immediate threat to Phraates, for their existence weakened his authority, and a ruler without authority is like a eagle without talons.

‘You have no opinion on this matter, King Pacorus?’

I had, but decided to keep my council.

‘I concur with your decision, highness.’

Phraates looked puzzled. ‘But I have made no decision as yet. Come, speak freely.’

And so I did. ‘I believe, highness, that talking to the rebels is a waste of time. We should march out to meet Narses and defeat him, for every day that he and his army exists is a gross insult to you and to the ancient laws of Parthia.’

I was aware at once that my father was fuming at my reply, though he said nothing.

‘Well,’ said Gotarzes, ‘he may be half our age but Pacorus has twice the wisdom. I agree with him. We should put an end to this rebellion here and now.’

Chosroes had gone very pale while Vardan looked contemplative. ‘But can we defeat such a host?’

‘We can beat him,’ I replied, ‘if we have the will.’

‘And do you agree with your son, Varaz?’ asked Phraates.

‘The army of Hatra stands ready to obey your orders, highness,’ replied my father evasively.

‘We cannot remain at Ctesiphon, highness,’ I continued. ‘There are too many men and beasts to feed and water. Narses knows this. That is why he is marching here. He is forcing your hand.’

‘You should not talk to your lord, thus,’ said my father. ‘It is not your place.’

‘It is my duty to speak the truth, father.’

My father rounded on me. ‘Is it? Or do you seek a battle for your own ends, to achieve more glory for yourself?’

Enius looked alarmed, Phraates was speechless.

‘We should not argue thus,’ said Vardan. ‘It is for the high king to decide our course of action.’

‘We look to you, highness,’ added my father.

I purposely ignored my father and looked at Phraates, then Enius. He at least knew what I was saying was true. There were thousands of men, mules, camels and horses camped in and around Ctesiphon. Food and forage were in short supply as it was. We could not withdraw for we could not abandon Ctesiphon, the capital of all Parthia, to Narses. At a stroke that would make us all appear feeble. We had only achieved half of what we had set out to accomplish. We had relieved Ctesiphon, but it would all be for nothing unless we beat Narses. And Narses knew this. Phraates must also have known this. He was no fool, but now he had to show his mettle. He smiled to himself.

‘Very well. We will assemble our forces and march east to intercept Narses. This matter must be brought to an end once and for all.’

My father said nothing to me after the meeting ended. He was infuriated with me, but Gotarzes had only praise.

‘You did well, Pacorus. We need to give that bastard Narses a good beating, otherwise he’ll pick us off one by one.’

‘My father doesn’t see it as you do.’

‘Yes he does. He’s angry with himself, not you. He knows that Phraates is lacking as a King of Kings, but what can he do? What can any of us do?’

‘Stay true to our oaths of loyalty,’ I said.

The area around the palace and the along the east bank of the Tigris resounded with the noise of forges making new arrowheads, sharpening blades and mending armour. Farriers shod horses and veterinaries attended to their health. That afternoon I rode with Byrd and Malik to the east. We travelled twenty miles into the desert and then halted. All around was a barren expanse of flat, parched red earth, upon which nothing grew aside from a few shrubs. The terrain was featureless — perfect for cavalry. In the far distance stood the Zagros Mountains, the direction from where Narses was marching. But here there were no mountains, no hills, not even a hillock.

‘Narses is clever,’ I said. ‘He intends to make his superiority in numbers count, and this is the perfect spot.’

‘In what way?’ asked Malik.

‘If Narses had continued to march north along the Tigris, then we could have anchored one flank of our army on the river, as we did when we fought Porus. But here, in the desert, there is nothing to anchor a flank on, no river, wadi, forest or high ground. That means that we will have to match the extent of his line lest we be outflanked. And that will make our line very thin.’

‘You think there will be a battle?’

‘Oh yes, Malik, there will be a battle. Narses has not come this far to talk. He did that at the Council of Kings.’

‘He expects to win,’ said Byrd.

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘And if he does, and manages to kill all the kings who are arrayed against him, then the empire falls into his lap like ripe fruit. What is this place called?’

‘Nomads we spoke to call it Surkh,’ replied Byrd, ‘not know what it means.’

I knelt down and scooped up some of the dry earth. ‘It means redness.’ I let it fall from my hand. The name was very apt, for this patch of ground would soon be running red with blood.

‘Odds not good, Pacorus.’ Byrd always did have a knack of summing things up succinctly. We stood in silence for a while. And to the east Narses and his army advanced towards Ctesiphon.

I rode straight to my father’s camp when we returned, a vast sprawling collection of tents along the Tigris. He had made sure that he was upstream from the armies of the other kings, especially that of Chosroes. His tent was a great round affair, its roof supported by four giant poles. I left my horse with a servant and was escorted inside by two sentries. I found my father in a conference with Vistaspa and half a dozen of his officers all standing in front of my father’s desk. As soon as they saw me the officers bowed their heads, prompting my father to dismiss them. As they bowed once more and filed out, my father indicated to Vistaspa that he should sit in one of the wicker chairs that were placed by one of the tent poles. My father’s second-in-command nodded his head slightly at me but said nothing.

‘So, the wanderer returns,’ said my father, noticing my dust-covered apparel, my shirt tainted red. He gestured to a water jug on a small table to one side. ‘You must be thirsty.’

I walked over to the table and drank a cup of lukewarm water.

‘Are you well?’ asked my father.

‘Yes, father.’

‘And is this a social visit?’

I slumped down in one of the chairs. ‘I need your cataphracts, father.’

He looked at Vistaspa and they both laughed.

‘Did I hear you right, Pacorus? You want me to give you my cataphracts, the finest heavy cavalry in the known world?’

‘Yes, father.’

‘And you wish Lord Vistaspa to command them?’

‘Of course.’

My father placed his hands behind his head and stared at the roof of the tent.

‘So, not only do you want my cataphracts, you also want the commander of my troops, the man who has forged Hatra’s army into the sword of the Parthian Empire?’

‘Yes.’

‘And am I allowed to know the reason why you make such heavy demands upon me?’

‘To defeat Narses.’

He slowly rose from his chair and started pacing up and down.

‘Of course, that’s where you have been isn’t it, mapping out the ground upon which you will fight your battle?’

I must have looked surprised.

‘You may be a king, Pacorus, a man whose fame has spread far and wide, but you are still my son. The answer is no.’

Disappointment swept over me, though I tried to remain composed. ‘You know that there will be a battle.’

He was still pacing. ‘You wish there to be a battle. I wish for the rebellion to be brought to an end.’

I held out my hands. ‘Are they not one and the same thing?’

My father stopped pacing and banged his fist on the table. ‘No, they are not! Narses has to defeat us to win this war. When he sees the might of Hatra, Babylon, Mesene and Dura arrayed against him, his nerve will falter.’

I stood up and placed the cup back on the table. ‘You are wrong,’ I said.

I left then without saying another word. But I was not finished yet. I rode to the palace and asked for a private audience with Phraates. In his study once more I requested that Enius and his five hundred cataphracts be placed under my command during the coming march. If it came to a fight I promised Phraates victory, just like the one over Porus. I knew that he regarded me highly at this time and I played on that. When he reminded me that his son, Mithridates, who had been ‘tricked’ by Narses, was with the enemy army, I lied and told him that I would make it my priority to rescue his son, if I could but borrow his heavy horsemen. And so he gave me Enius and five hundred cataphracts. Gotarzes did not need any convincing and so readily agreed to add his two hundred cataphracts to my own, on the condition that he would fight by my side. He too wanted to find Mithridates, ‘So I can chop off the little bastard’s head.’ I readily agreed to his offer.

The army marched east the following day, each king leading his own contingent with supplies loaded on to camels, wagons and mules following behind. The whole mass resembled an entire people on the move. Dura’s horse and foot were to the south, the legion marching behind my cataphracts and Nergal’s horse archers. All of the lords had provided their own scale armour for themselves and their mounts, so I added their number to my total of heavy cavalry. They trusted Nergal to lead their archers now — there is nothing like victory to boost confidence and morale, and I reckoned Dura’s army to be the best among the disparate elements that had rallied to Phraates. The worst, of course, was the rabble under Chosroes, but it did not matter. In the coming battle the army of Mesene would serve only to make up the numbers. Immediately north of my army was Vardan and his Babylonians. I liked Vardan and his daughter, but he was a close friend of my father so I had not asked him for his heavy horse. In the centre of the columns rode Phraates with the remnants of the army of Elymais and the troops of his own household, including Enius and Orodes. Beyond him were Chosroes and his motley band, while on the northern flank marched the army of Hatra — fifteen hundred cataphracts and nine thousand horse archers. Five thousand of the latter, the professional troops, had scale armour on their chests and helmets on their heads, for my father’s kingdom was the richest in the land and could afford to lavish its army with the best equipment. The rest comprised the retinues brought to Hatra by those landowners whose estates were nearest the city.

We marched for most of the day at a leisurely pace until we reached the flat expanse of desert which I had previously visited with Byrd and Malik, and where we would fight the army of Narses.

The Battle of Surkh was about to begin.