Parthian Dawn

Chapter 16

The aftermath of battle is never pleasant and this day was no different. As far as the eye could see the ground was covered with the dead and the dying. Injured horses, their bodies gashed open and their limbs shattered, thrashed around in agony. Men whimpered and screamed as the rush of frenzy within them quickly faded and feelings returned to their pierced bodies. Bodies cut open by sword and spear blades, bones crushed underfoot by men and horses during melees, and flesh pierced by arrows and slingshots. And then the stench hit me. In the white heat of battle all sense of smell disappears, but afterwards, when the slaughter has ceased and men’s bodies are drained of energy, a rancid aroma hangs over the battlefield. The stench of blood, vomit, human and animal dung and urine, the disgusting combination of men fouling themselves, puking as they saw their friends reduced to offal before their eyes, and the spilling of blood and guts during combat. It is this smell that enters your nostrils, infuses your hair and skin and stays there for days. No amount of water will wash it away. Today it was the same, perhaps even worse than before. Men had difficulty controlling their skittish horses as they dismounted and led the beasts towards the river, for both they and their riders were suddenly possessed by a raging thirst.

I too dismounted and watched Domitus and his men move forward to stand guard over the Roman captives. There was no resistance. Where just a short time before they had been highly trained enemy soldiers operating in formation, seemingly invincible, now they were beaten men, glad to be offered the chance to rest. Glad to be alive.

Domitus ambled over as the legion’s colour party escorted the golden griffin back to the city. I raised my sword in salute as it and its escort marched past me. The cataphracts around did the same.

‘Another victory, Pacorus. Well done.’

‘Yes, another victory.’ But it did not feel like victory, not with the words of Furius still in my ears. Had Phraates really handed Dura to the Romans? I dismissed the idea. And yet…

A line of Nergal’s horse archers were standing watch as the Romans were ordered to stack their shields, mail shirts, helmets, belts and swords in great piles before being herded under armed guard towards the camp — my camp — they had occupied during the siege of my city. It would now be their temporary prison until their fate was decided.

‘If any engineers still live,’ I said to Domitus, ‘they are to be separated from the rest. I will have need of them and their siege engines.’

‘They may not wish to serve you.’

‘Better that than death,’ I snapped. ‘Now go.’

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely saluting and striding away.

Orodes walked up, leading his sweat-lathered horse behind him. ‘I salute you, Pacorus, you have won a fine victory.’

I looked around at the broken bodies littering the earth, and heard the pitiful cries of the wounded and dying and the moans of injured animals. ‘At this moment, my friend, it is hard to tell the difference between the victors and the vanquished.’

Behind me the cataphracts began to dismount and take off their heavy scale armour, dumping the suits on the ground then relieving their horses of their armoured protection. The squires began arriving from camp to attend their masters, riding on horses and pulling camels behind them. As one squire led his master’s horse to the river to drink, the other loaded the scale armour for horse and man on to the camel. Tonight they would be sewing plates of armour back onto the thick hide coats, sharpening blunted swords and maces and knocking dents out of helmets. Others would be building funeral pyres for their lords, for we too had lost men this day.

Surena appeared before me on his horse, his face flush with victory, streaked with sweat and dirt, and his tunic torn.

I took off my helmet and armour and dumped them on the ground.

‘Help me with Remus’ armour,’ I said to him.

He jumped from his horse and began unbuckling the straps that held the armour in place.

‘I ordered you to stay in camp,’ I said.

‘I could not stand idly by while you were fighting.’

‘If you had been killed, I would have no squire,’ I rebuked him.

‘But, surely, you wish for me to learn about war.’

Despite his dirty appearance there was not a scratch on him, and he seemed to be oblivious to the horror around him. ‘You cannot learn anything if you are dead.’

‘Let the boy be, Pacorus,’ said Orodes, who was being assisted by his own squires, ‘let us be thankful that we are all still alive.’

I pointed at him. ‘I’ve got a little task for you, Surena.’

He flashed a smile. ‘Yes, lord.’

‘Go and find the body of the Roman general that the queen killed, then cut off its head and bring it back to me, but not before you have crucified the body.’

He looked perplexed. ‘How am I going to crucify the body?’

‘You will have to ask General Domitus if you can borrow some of his men to prepare a cross and acquire some ropes and nails. And tell him that you are carrying out my orders.’

I pointed towards the river. ‘Erect the cross near the water’s edge. Now go, and don’t forget to bring me back the head.’

He nodded his head and scurried off to find Domitus.

Orodes looked at me but said nothing. Domitus, however, had plenty to say when he stormed back with a sheepish Surena in tow. He jerked his thumb at my squire. ‘This little whelp has just tried to order me to give him some of my men, said he had a very important task to perform for the king, and that he could not waste time explaining to me what it is.’

I shook my head in despair. Surena had a talent amounting to genius for annoying people. I held up my hands to Domitus.

‘I apologise, Domitus. I asked him to ask you for your help, not to order you.’

Domitus fixed Surena with his stare, who stared insolently back. I held my head in my hands for I knew what was coming next. Domitus smiled at Surena.

‘You know the disadvantage with having long hair?’

Surena looked bemused. ‘No.’

As quick as a striking snake Domitus grabbed Surena’s hair with his right hand and yanked the boy down onto his knees. He moved his face to within a few inches of Surena’s.

‘All those pretty flowing locks are easy to get hold off.’

Surena’s face was contorted in pain. ‘Let go of me, barbarian,’ he squealed.

Domitus let go of his hair and stepped back. ‘Barbarian, am I? You need a lesson in manners.’

Surena jumped to his feet and drew his spatha. Aghast, I stepped between them.

‘Surena put away your sword. Now!’

He looked at Domitus standing before him with only his cane in his hand, then at me, and then reluctantly replaced his sword in its scabbard. I then smiled at Domitus, who was far from amused.

‘Whatever you wanted me to do,’ he said to me, ‘you can attend to it yourself. I’m not some slave to be ordered about by some young dung shoveller.’ He then pointed at Surena. ‘You stay out of my way, boy, if you know what’s good for you.’

He turned and strode back to his legion.

‘You had a lucky escape, Surena,’ remarked Orodes.

‘Come with me,’ I said, ‘and don’t say anything to anyone.’

With Surena trailing behind me I organised a group of my cataphracts to find the body of Lucius Furius and drag it by horse to the edge of the river. Surena decapitated it with an axe and the carcass was then nailed to a cross at the edge of the River Euphrates. I led Remus downstream so he could quench his thirst and gave orders that the head was to be taken back to the city and preserved in salt.

Gallia and her Amazons arrived as I threw my tunic on the ground and stood in my silk vest drenched in sweat, leggings and boots. She vaulted from Epona, took off her helmet and then kissed me on the lips.

‘You smell like a bullock,’ she whispered.

‘A handsome bullock, I hope.’

Gallia untied her plait and shook her long hair free. Praxima and the other women also took off their helmets and Surena’s eyes lit up as he beheld the mounted women warriors before him.

‘You have won a great victory, lord,’ shouted Praxima, to which the others cheered and raised their bows.

‘I am glad you are all safe,’ I replied, my arm around Gallia’s waist.

Surena had probably never seen a blonde, blue-eyed woman before; certainly not one like Gallia and certainly not this close up. He walked up to her and smiled.

‘I am Surena of the Ma’adan. I have heard tales of your beauty and they have not been exaggerated.’

Gallia eyed him coolly and then looked at me.

‘He is my squire. It’s a long story. I will tell you later.’

The arrival of Nergal signalled a touching reunion between husband and wife as he and Praxima embraced each other. I smiled. For a brief moment we were back in Italy. As we chatted and gave thanks for our survival, Surena reached out and touched Gallia’s locks. She spun round instantly and held her dagger to his throat.

‘Do you not know that it is death to touch the person of your queen, boy?’

For the first time this day Surena looked alarmed, especially as Praxima hissed and drew her sword to protect her friend. I placed my hand on Gallia’s dagger.

‘He meant no offence, my love. He is from the marshlands many miles from here and his manners require polishing.’

‘He is an arrogant puppy,’ growled Gallia.

‘Perhaps so, but you would not rob my of a good squire, would you?’

Her eyes darted between me and Surena, and then she sneered at him and put her dagger back in her boot. Praxima sheathed her sword.

Gallia vaulted onto the back of Epona.

‘We ride back to the city.’ She pointed at Surena. ‘Teach that one some manners.’

Then she and the Amazons were gone.

‘That’s the second time you have come close to death today,’ I said, ‘and whereas for most of us it is the enemy who presents the greatest danger, you appear intent on being killed by your own side.’

‘Do you really think that I am a good squire?’ asked Surena.

I cuffed him round the ears. ‘Shut up. Tonight you will join the burial details to collect the dead.’

After Remus had been watered and rested I rode him back to the city. When I arrived at the Citadel, Gallia, her Amazons, Godarz and Rsan were waiting at the foot of the palace steps, as were a host of black-clad Agraci warriors. Each one had black tattoos on their face in a similar fashion to those sported by Malik. I embraced Godarz.

‘It is good to see you, old friend.’

‘You too, Pacorus.’ He released me and stared. ‘You have lost weight and look weary.’

‘Now I am home, I can rest,’ I replied.

Rsan bowed his head formally. ‘It is most excellent to see you again, majesty.’

I looked past him at the doors of the treasury, both of them shut and secured with heavy chains. Domitus was right about Rsan — it would take more than a besieging army to tear him away from his hoard of silver and gold.

I dismissed them all and went with Gallia straight to the palace balcony where Dobbai held the sleeping Claudia in her arms, the old woman gently rocking the child and humming a soft tune to her. It was remarkable that one so foul and ferocious could be so tender. Dobbai saw me and nodded, then handed me my child. I brushed Claudia’s face with a finger and kissed her forehead. I said nothing for a long time as I sat holding my daughter, day turning to night, with Gallia and Dobbai seated beside me. I stared into the distance, across the calm, mirror-like waters of the Euphrates and into the black void beyond. To the north of the city funeral pyres burned brightly as thousands of corpses were consigned to the flames. At length Gallia came to my side and whispered that it was time for Claudia to be placed in her cot. I kissed her small cheek and handed her to my wife.

‘You do not seem pleased with your great victory, son of Hatra,’ observed Dobbai.

I looked at her black eyes. ‘I’ve beaten Romans before.’

‘There is something else. What is it?’

I turned away from her. ‘It is of no consequence.’

She persisted. ‘If it is of no consequence, then why does it eat away at you like maggots in a rotting corpse?’

Gallia returned from our bedroom. ‘I know there is something wrong, so you might as well tell us.’

‘Indeed,’ added Dobbai, ‘for it is unbecoming for the king to sulk like a small boy.’

I stood up and pointed at her. ‘Remember that I am your king and could have your head for your impertinence.’

Gallia was outraged. ‘Do not speak to Dobbai like that. You would not be king were it not for her.’

Dobbai grinned. ‘It is all right, child, the king has other things on his mind rather than adorning his walls with my ugly old skull. Is that not so, son of Hatra?’

I slumped back in my chair and told them of Furius’ words just before he had been killed, of how Dura had been given to the Romans in exchange for Gordyene. I could not hide my disappointment that bordered on despair.

‘And you believed him?’ asked Gallia.

‘Why would he lie?’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Because he is a Roman. And that particular Roman would say anything to rile you.’

I laughed, the first time I had done so that day. ‘That was my initial thought, but now I am not so sure.’

‘The Roman spoke the truth,’ said Dobbai.

‘How do you know this?’ I asked.

‘Because giving away Dura is a small price to pay to solve a far bigger problem.’

My limbs were starting to ache and I had no time for Dobbai’s word games. ‘You speak in riddles, old woman. What bigger problem?’

She shook her head. ‘For a great warlord you have the brains of a camel. You, son of Hatra, are the problem.’

‘Clearly,’ I retorted, ‘what little sense you had has finally deserted you. In case you have not noticed, I have just defeated an invading army and can now go to Hatra’s aid, which is under assault from another Roman army. I hardly think that makes me a problem, more like a saviour.’

‘To some, perhaps, but to others your ability on the battlefield is no cause for celebration. You have greater enemies than the Romans.’

‘Narses and Mithridates,’ the names stuck in my throat.

‘Exactly,’ said Dobbai. ‘Your success here will be like taking a poison for them.

‘When the army is rested and has recovered its strength,’ I said, ‘I will take it east and destroy Narses, and this time I will kill him.’

‘Why must you do it?’ asked Gallia. ‘There are other kings who also have armies.’

I held her face and kissed her on the lips. ‘Because it is personal between him and me.’

‘You might find it more difficult than you think,’ muttered Dobbai.

‘What do you know of war?’

She held up her hands to me in mockery. ‘Nothing, mighty one, nothing.’

The next day I surveyed the damage the Romans had done to the city’s defences. Aside from the minor battering the western wall and gates had taken from stone shot and ballista bolts, the other defences were almost untouched. As Domitus had predicted, the enemy had attempted to take the city by storm after they had first arrived.

I stood with Gallia beside the stone griffin at the Palmyrene Gate looking to the west.

‘They came in great waves, the front ranks carrying scaling ladders and their archers and slingers covering their approach.’

She cast me a sideways glance and smiled. ‘We had no one exposed on the walls, but as soon as they came within range we threw the Chinese liquid you obtained at them. As we were taught we loaded it into earthen pots sealed with wax and with pitch-soaked rags attached, which we then lit. After the pots had been launched they shattered on impact and sprayed their burning contents on to the enemy. It was horrible.’

‘But effective,’ I said.

‘Yes, the sticky liquid that cannot be put out disrupted their attack, and then my girls began shooting arrows at them from within the towers. That brought their attack to an end.’

‘Did they try any other attacks?’

‘One more, but again it was stopped by Chinese fire and arrows. Then they settled down to starving us out.’

I ran my hand over the stone griffin. ‘Not a scratch on him.’

Gallia smiled. ‘Dobbai says that no mortal weapon can mark him.’

I nodded. ‘So it seems. Why are Haytham’s men here?’

‘They arrived two days before the Romans. Their commander brought a message from Haytham saying that as we had protected his daughter, it was only fitting that he should return the courtesy. They even brought their own food so they would not sap our supplies.’

As we stood on the battlements, a procession of wagons ferried the captured Roman arms and armour into the city and transported them to the armoury. Our victory had reaped a rich harvest, though I did not envy the parties that had been selected by drawing lots to scour the battlefield, collecting weapons, stripping the dead and digging arrowheads out of flesh. Iron and steel were too valuable to throw away.

That afternoon I sat in the throne room and heard the reports of Nergal and Domitus. Gallia and Orodes were sitting either side of me, while Byrd and Malik stood to one side and the lords were assembled in front of me.

Domitus’ arm was heavily bandaged but he looked in good spirits despite his wound. ‘The legion lost two hundred dead and another two hundred wounded, of which around fifty give or take will probably die.’

‘And the men of Pontus?’ I asked.

‘They suffered more than your legion. Five hundred dead and another four hundred wounded. They got well and truly mauled.’

I looked at Nergal.

‘We lost only a hundred horse archers and fifty horses. The lords likewise suffered only light casualties. Of your cataphracts, twenty-two are dead.’

‘And a similar number of mine were also slain,’ added Orodes.

‘Your loss will be recompensed, lord prince,’ I said.

He grinned at me. ‘They died fighting for a worthy cause, my friend, that is payment enough.’

‘How many Romans do we hold?’ I asked.

‘Near ten thousand,’ replied Domitus.

‘And their engineers have been separated from the rest?’

He nodded.

‘What losses did the Romans suffer?’ asked Rsan.

Domitus rubbed his injured arm. ‘We burned around eight thousand bodies; the rest must have tried to escape into the river. Most probably drowned in the water.’

I waved Malik over. ‘Your father is a man of honour, Malik. While other kings did nothing to help Dura, his son fought beside me and he sent troops to protect my wife and child.’

‘It is an honour to serve you, Pacorus.’ The others shouted in agreement.

‘And he will be rewarded, Malik. The Roman captives are to be sold as slaves. They will be transported to Palmyra where King Haytham, your father, will arrange for their sale in Egypt and Africa, or wherever else he can sell them. If he is in agreement, I will share the profits of their sale evenly with him.’

‘You are most generous, Pacorus,’ said Malik.

‘You told them that they would be allowed to walk out of here,’ said Domitus.

‘And I keep my word, Domitus.’

‘You inferred that they would be given their lives.’

‘And so they will be. I said nothing of their freedom.’

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing more on the matter.

I had to admit it was a generous offer. Ten thousand slaves would fetch a high price.

‘I must protest, majesty,’ said Rsan, clearly unhappy. ‘Your treasury needs replenishing. The absence of trade has greatly diminished its reserves.’

‘The reopening of trade will replenish it soon enough, Rsan. My decision is final. Nergal, we will rest for two days and then you and I will ride to Hatra to aid my father.’

‘I will come with you,’ said Orodes.

‘Should you not return to Susa?’

‘I prefer the company here.’

The next day, as long lines of Roman captives began their journey to Haytham’s kingdom and a life of servitude, I addressed the Roman engineers gathered in a group next to their old camp, nearly a hundred of them. I pointed at their comrades being escorted into the desert.

‘Those men are going to be sold as slaves, for that is the price of invading my kingdom.’

Their faces were downcast as they stood before me, three score of horse archers standing guard behind with arrows nocked in their bowstrings.

‘But you have a chance to earn your freedom.’ A few looked up at this, their curiosity aroused.

‘You men know how to operate the siege engines that were used against my city. I should, by rights, cut off your right hands for such an offence.’

Alarm swept across their faces.

‘However,’ I continued, ‘I have decided to be generous. I make you this offer: serve my army and work your machines for one campaign and I will set you free afterwards. I will even give you an escort back to Roman territory should you so desire.’

One man at the front of the group, who resembled Domitus with his hard visage, if not his wiry frame, spoke. ‘And if we refuse?’

I jerked my head at the prisoners filing behind them. ‘Then you are free to join your comrades. You have one hour to decide.’

None refused my offer.

Riders were sent to the city’s population to announce that it was now safe for them return to their homes, and the pontoon bridge was reassembled across the river to expedite their journey. Couriers were also sent to the representatives of the merchants throughout the empire, informing them that the trade route through Dura to Egypt and beyond was once again open. My mood was lifted somewhat when news reached the city that my father had turned back the Romans who had invaded his kingdom. I informed the others of this news at the first council meeting held after the relief of Dura.

‘I will ride to Hatra to see if Dura can lend any help to my father,’ I said.

‘You can forget about taking the legion or those from Pontus who still live,’ growled Domitus, his bandaged arm still obviously causing him discomfort. ‘The boys are spent and there’s much work to do repairing their armour and weapons. The last fight was a hard one and I want them fully recuperated before they go marching off to god knows where.’

‘I realise that, Domitus,’ I replied, ‘I shall take only horsemen with me, and only a score.’

‘That few?’ queried Gallia.

‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘Hatra’s army is much larger than ours, and with the Romans retreating there is little point in burdening my father with feeding hundreds of horses and men.’

‘Speaking of which,’ added Godarz. ‘How long are the lords and their followers staying here? They are eating up all our supplies.’

‘Now that we have beaten the Romans,’ added Nergal, ‘it would be sensible to let them return to their homes.’

‘Agreed,’ said Rsan, ‘otherwise the cost will be ruinous.’

‘Very well,’ I said, ‘I shall instruct them to return home. But your treasury will be more than full, Rsan, once Haytham has finalised the sale of the Roman prisoners.’

‘What use is a full treasury if there are no soldiers to protect it,’ mumbled Domitus.

He sat across the table from me with a face like thunder, his eyes cast down.

‘What is the matter, Domitus?’ I asked.

‘Gallia told me what Furius said to you.’

I looked at my wife in annoyance. She merely shrugged with disinterest. ‘Did she? Well she should not have.’

‘Why? They have a right to know. Tell them.’ She stared at me defiantly.

‘Very well. Before he died Furius informed me that Phraates,’ I shot a glance at Orodes, whose face betrayed no emotion, ‘had agreed to cede Dura to the Romans in exchange for their evacuation of Gordyene.’

There were gasps around the table. I held up my hands. ‘We do not know if he spoke the truth; he was probably lying.’

‘And maybe he wasn’t,’ spat Domitus, looking up at me.

‘We know that Crassus financed the expedition against Dura,’ said Godarz, rubbing a hand across his scalp, ‘and we know that Dura is becoming rich on the back of the trade between east and west. I would say that Crassus, if not the republic, sees Dura as a jewel that he wants in his crown.’

Rsan was looking decidedly nervous. ‘Surely the King of Kings does not wish to see his empire weakened.’

‘He has no choice,’ said Domitus. ‘The recent civil war has sapped his strength. He has already lost Gordyene, and Media and Atropaiene have both been weakened. The defeat at Dura has been a setback for Rome, but only that.’

No one said anything for a while and the silence became oppressive. Rsan fidgeted nervously and Domitus went back to staring down at the table, rubbing his arm as he did so. At length I spoke.

‘I say again, we do not know for certain that what Furius said is true. Therefore I will still ride to Hatra while the army stays at Dura.’

I turned to Orodes. ‘I would like you to accompany me to Hatra.’

‘Of course,’ he replied.

I left the next day, taking Orodes and a score of Nergal’s horse archers. As far as I knew Babylon was still under siege, though as Parthian kings had no knowledge of siege warfare or engines with which to reduce walls, I felt sure that the city had not fallen to Narses and the rabble of Mesene. Once I had seen for myself that Hatra was safe, I would take the army east and relieve Vardan. The journey to Hatra was uneventful and the city itself had been untouched by war as far as I could tell, the gates being open and caravans still travelling on the roads to and from the city. We entered the city through the northern gates and I went straight to see my father. Beyond the city walls to the west was a great collection of tents and many horsemen milling round. I assumed that my father had raised a general muster of the whole kingdom so great was the multitude assembled.

Orodes walked with me through the palace and into the throne room where my father was sitting listening to grievances concerning land disputes, dowries and a host of other civil problems that have plagued kings since the dawn of time. Stewards and other officials were attending him, Assur standing on one side of the dais and Kogan on the other. Two old men were standing in front of him, each one holding several scrolls, and one was gesticulating with his free hand. My father looked bored to death. His face lit up when he saw me, and he immediately stood and clapped his hands to announce that proceedings were at an end.

‘But highness,’ implored one of the plaintiffs, ‘my neighbour has clearly violated the city’s ordinances by building his wall at twice the stipulated height.’

‘I would not have had to build it so high were it not for the lewd goings-on that accompany your banquets. My wife and I have no wish to see such depravity.’

‘Depravity? How dare you. If I was thirty years younger.’

They began to square up to each other. I smiled. Each must have been in his late sixties. ‘Enough!’ bellowed my father, causing them both to freeze and one to drop his scrolls.

‘I will decide on this matter next week. The meeting is ended.’

He pointed at Kogan, who ordered his guards to usher everyone out of the room.

I embraced my father. ‘We heard about your victory,’ he said. ‘Well done.’

‘And your news?’

He smiled. ‘We have sent the Romans scuttling back to where they came from. Your mother will be delighted that you are here.’ He released me and turned to Orodes. ‘Greetings, Prince Orodes, welcome to Hatra.’

Orodes bowed his head. ‘It is an honour to be at your court, majesty.’

‘Hail King Pacorus, destroyer of Parthia’s enemies.’

I recognised the voice but thought that my ears were playing tricks on me. They were not. I turned round to see Narses standing in Hatra’s throne room. Narses, the man who had promised that my head would adorn Uruk’s walls. Narses the traitor. Narses the liar and thief. He must have been skulking in the shadows along one of the walls when I entered. I blinked in astonishment. He smiled at me as though we were long-lost friends. The large iron-studded doors were closed shut and Kogan returned to stand by the two thrones. Orodes stood speechless.

‘King Narses brought his army to assist Hatra, Pacorus,’ said my father. ‘We have decided to put aside our differences for the sake of the empire’s welfare.’

‘After all,’ said Narses smugly, ‘we are all Parthians.’

A deep-thinking man, a philosopher or accomplished politician, would have taken time to compose an appropriate response to this effrontery, but I was not such a man. I strode over to Narses and struck him hard across the face with the back of my hand. The King of Persis is a tall, well-built individual, but he was not expecting such a response and I hit him with such force that he was sent sprawling across the floor. Without thinking I drew my sword and took a step towards the prostrate Narses, who was slowly picking himself up. I smiled; I had no objection to killing him here. I stopped when I felt the point of a blade at my throat.

‘What, in the name of all that’s decent, are you doing?’ It was my father’s sword at my flesh.

Narses staggered to his feet, his nose was bleeding. His eyes flashed hatred but then, remembering where he was, his expression softened.

‘You dare to draw your sword in my palace,’ said my father, ‘against my guest?’

‘You would not accord him that status if you knew his true intentions,’ I snarled.

‘Put away your sword,’ ordered my father.

‘I will not,’ I replied.

At that moment my mother appeared, accompanied by Gafarn and Diana. They were shocked at the scene before their eyes. My mother rushed over and placed herself between my father and myself.

‘Varaz, what are you doing?’

‘Pacorus struck our guest.’

‘Not hard enough by the look of him,’ remarked Gafarn.

‘Silence!’ shouted my father. ‘Hold your tongue, Gafarn.’

My mother looked at me. ‘Pacorus, put away your sword. I will not have such scenes in my home.’

My will weakened in her presence and I slid the spatha back into its scabbard. My father did likewise and then held out his hand. Orodes stared in disbelief at me, while Narses, having composed himself, was now standing to one side with his arms folded and a self-righteous expression on his bruised face.

‘Surrender your sword.’

I was mortified. ‘This sword was given to me by a friend, one who knew the meaning of honour and loyalty.’ I jerked my head towards Narses, whose bleeding nose was being attended to by a servant. ‘Unlike him.’

‘Very well,’ said my father. ‘Lord Kogan, have my son escorted to his chambers. He will remain there until he has learned some manners.’

‘There is no need, King Varaz,’ said Narses, ‘I do not wish to come between father and son.’

‘There is every need, King Narses,’ remarked my father. ‘Kings do not act like thieves and beggars.’

‘Or slaves,’ smirked Narses as half a dozen of Kogan’s spearmen, their shafts levelled at me, escorted me from the room.

My mother came to see me later as I paced up and down in my old quarters, fuming. Her words did nothing to cool my temper.

‘Narses came to our assistance when the Romans were besieging Nisibus.’

‘Narses assists only himself, mother. He covets this kingdom, and now I find his soldiers are camped outside the city walls.’

‘He and they will be returning to Persis after the business between him and your father has been concluded.’

‘Business?’

Gafarn and Diana entered at that moment, both of them looking well I had to admit. Gafarn now sported a neatly trimmed beard, which gave him an authoritative air. He really did look like a prince of Parthia. I embraced them both.

‘Do not trust Narses,’ I told them.

‘I don’t,’ replied Gafarn. ‘Anyone who smiles as much as he does is bound to be hiding something.’

My mother was not amused. ‘Really, Gafarn, don’t encourage Pacorus.’

Gafarn flopped down into a chair. ‘He doesn’t need encouraging. He’s more than capable of getting into trouble on his own.’

Still the same old Gafarn under the princely appearance.

‘You should not argue with your father, Pacorus,’ said Diana sternly. ‘Family is important.’

‘So is truth and honour,’ I replied.

Gafarn laughed. ‘Truth and honour? He used to spout the same old rubbish to Spartacus, do you remember, Diana?’

‘I should have killed Narses when I had the chance, and now he defiles my father’s palace. It is an outrage.’

‘Enough Pacorus,’ implored my mother. ‘I want you to apologise to your father.’

‘And I want Narses gone.’

My mother’s tone changed. ‘I would like to believe that the King of Dura has respect for his parents, but it appears I am apparently wrong. Send word to me when you have decided to act like a king rather than a petulant boy.’

With that she turned and left the room. Diana smiled her soft smile and held my hand.

‘It is just as well that you are good with your sword, seeing as your tongue makes endless trouble for you,’ mused Gafarn. ‘Congratulations on your victory over the Romans, by the way. You finally managed to kill Lucius Furius. Perhaps you can now march on Rome and amuse yourself until your father’s temper subsides.’

‘Did you come here just to annoy me, Gafarn?’

‘That and other reasons.’

I shook my head and sat down, while Gafarn ordered the guards standing outside to fetch us food and drink. While we ate I told them both about Lucius Furius, of how I had been captured by Chosroes’ men and of Narses’ threat against Hatra.

‘Well, it may be of comfort to you to know that Babylon is no longer under siege,’ said Gafarn, dipping a piece of bread into a pot of honey. ‘Chosroes could not take the city and so retreated back to Mesene. Next thing we knew, Narses was here at the head of his army offering to help our father.’

‘Narses is clever,’ I said. ‘Having failed to take Babylon, he has obviously abandoned Chosroes and temporarily sided with my father. But why?’

Gafarn shoved the bread into his mouth, smearing his mouth with honey. ‘Sakastan.’

‘Sakastan?’

Gafarn licked his fingers. ‘In return for laying aside his desire to be King of Kings, our new ally Narses is to be granted the kingless kingdom of Sakastan.’

It made sense now. Narses had tempted Chosroes to strike at Babylon with the promise of an easy victory, and had even dangled the prize of Hatra before the greedy King of Mesene, but his plan had fallen apart when Babylon held out and the Romans had not destroyed Hatra’s army. Worse, my victory at Dura had raised the prospect of my father joining with me and marching to the relief of Babylon. So Narses had abandoned Chosroes and dashed to be at the side of my father.

‘Did the army of Persis do any fighting?’ I asked.

‘No,’ replied Gafarn, ‘your father had launched raids against the Romans that were besieging Nisibus, which was stoutly defended by Vata by the way, avoiding battle but attacking their supply lines.’

‘Gafarn was with his father,’ added Diana with pride, nibbling a pastry.

‘Eventually,’ continued Gafarn, ‘the Romans were forced to break off the siege and retreat north back to Zeugma. We harried them all the way, and Narses joined us just as the last Romans were leaving Hatran territory.’

I shook my head. ‘He’s a slimy toad.’

‘But clever. Since then he has been assuring your father that he has the best interests of the empire at heart and similar rubbish.’

‘And he wants Sakastan.’

‘Yes, Pacorus. He wants Sakastan.’

My father visited me later as the sun was going down in the west.

‘Sakastan is a small price to pay for peace and stability, Pacorus.’

‘If Narses has Sakastan, then combined with his own kingdom he will have the largest kingdom in the empire,’ I said.

My father was staring out of the window at a sky that was now blood red.

‘Sakastan has no king and no heirs. Surely you must know that; after all, you were the one that killed them all.’

‘Porus offered battle and I accepted.’

He turned to face me. ‘Being a king is not all about fighting and glory. It is about dealing with realities and preserving the order of things.’

‘The order of things?’

‘There was no need to fight at Surkh, but you could not resist the chance for more glory, could you?’

‘We did our talking at Esfahan.’

‘You killed Porus and then won great fame and glory at Surkh, but in doing so you made enemies of Narses and Mithridates. You weakened the empire, Pacorus, do you not see?’

‘I see a traitor at your court, father.’

He threw up his hands. ‘Do you think that I do not know what type of man Narses is? He is greedy, cunning and ruthless.’

‘Then why tolerate him?’

‘Because the empire cannot afford to be fighting a civil war and the Romans.’

‘So you give Narses what he wants?’

‘He wants to be King of Kings, but he has put that desire aside in exchange for Sakastan.’

‘And you believe him?’

He raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘It is irrelevant what I believe. But I know that for now we have seen off the Romans and Narses will not plunge the empire back into civil war. That is the present reality, Pacorus.’

‘I have heard, father, that Phraates has come to an agreement with the Romans that they will relinquish Gordyene in exchange for Dura.’

Now it was his turn to be taken aback. ‘I have not heard of any such agreement.’

I pointed at him. ‘You should have been created King of Kings, just as Balas said. But now, because of your decision, we have Phraates who is wholly under the spell of his wife and son, and it is they who guide his hand. That, father, is the reality that I and Dura have to live with.’

He was momentarily lost for words at this statement, but then composed himself.

‘Will you apologise to Narses?’

‘I will not.’

‘Then I must ask you to leave Hatra immediately.’

His pride would not allow him to bid me farewell when I left with Orodes the next day, though my mother, sister, Gafarn and Diana all embraced me at the foot of the palace steps. Diana held Remus’ reins as I said a tearful farewell to my mother.

‘Gallia misses you both,’ I said to her and Gafarn as I climbed onto Remus’ back.

‘Tell her that we will visit soon,’ promised Diana.

Orodes mounted his horse after bowing to my mother and expressing his regret that his visit had been so brief. My mother, her eyes moist, maintained royal protocol and said it had been an honour that a prince of Susa had visited Hatra. How ridiculous it all was.

I did not look back as I trotted from the city. Passing through the city’s northern gates I was gripped by a sudden desire to go back and kill Narses. But as I slowed Remus I heard the sounds of iron-shod hooves behind me. Turning, I saw a few dozen of my father’s royal bodyguard approaching, led by Vistaspa. They slowed and then halted behind my stationary horsemen, and Vistaspa then rode up beside Orodes and me.

‘Good morning, majesty,’ his tone was perfunctory, his face expressionless.

‘Am I under arrest again?’ I asked.

‘No, majesty. We are your escort.’

‘Our escort?’

Vistaspa’s tone was severe. ‘We are to escort you to the borders of your own kingdom, to ensure you do not come to any harm.’

I burst out laughing. ‘To ensure that I don’t harm Narses, more like.’

Vistaspa maintained his expressionless countenance. ‘These are dangerous times, majesty.’

I nudged Remus forward. ‘For some more than others, Vistaspa.’

I saw little point in riding to Ctesiphon to hear Phraates’ betrayal of me from his own lips. His court was infested with malice and intrigue, and even if I were granted an audience I doubted that I would hear the truth. But then, I had no evidence that Dura had been traded to the enemy aside from the outburst of a dead Roman, but the notion of it gnawed away at me like a toothache.

‘I could ride to Ctesiphon,’ offered Orodes, ‘and if it is true then I can plead your case.’

‘You would be wasting your time, my friend, though I thank you for the offer.’

Back at Dura life began to return to normal. The streets once again resounded with the hubbub of everyday life as the citizens went about their business. Work began on repairing the western wall and those houses that had been damaged by Roman missiles. Best of all the mood of Domitus had improved markedly. The legion and what was left of the Pontic contingent returned to its old camp beyond the Palmyrene Gate, with the griffin standard once again placed in its centre. The salted head of Lucius Furius I sent back to Rome so Crassus could see with his own eyes the fate of those who made war on Dura.

One morning, following a hard training session in full armour, I paid the legion a visit with Domitus in tow.

‘How’s the arm?’

He spat on the ground. ‘It’s stopped throbbing at least.’

‘You should have a nice scar to show off.’

He regarded me with amusement. ‘Another couple of inches and the bastard would have sliced my arm off. Then I would have had a nice stump to show off.’

‘You know, Domitus,’ I said, ‘you are supposed to be the commander of this legion. Aren’t legion commanders supposed to be sitting on their horses directing things?’

He winced at the thought. ‘Can’t be doing with all that. The boys are well trained and every man knows what his task is. For myself, I wouldn’t be anywhere else when the fighting begins but at the front. Men fight better when their commander is in front of them, not behind squealing like a little girl telling them to fight harder.’

I slapped him on the shoulder. ‘You will get yourself killed one of these days.’

‘No more than you. I’m just one among thousands when the battle begins, but you stand out like a boil on a senator’s nose.’

‘How so?’

‘Everyone knows that King Pacorus rides a white horse and fights in Roman armour with white feathers in his helmet. They must be queuing up to put a spear in your belly.’

‘Well,’ I replied, ‘like you said, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.’

The camp bustled with activity — centuries marched out to drill, to practise throwing javelins, or to hone their sword skills. Others were sitting on stools cleaning mail shirts and helmets or sewing tunics. And all the time centurions armed with vine canes stalked the tented avenues like wolves, looking for infractions to punish. In general, though, the atmosphere was relaxed and confident. The men had won another victory, boosting their reputation and confidence. For their part the men of Pontus had consigned their dead to the fires, nursed their wounds but did not grumble. Their numbers were depleted but they too were in good spirits. Victory is an amazing panacea for all ills.

The griffin was in its tent as before, guarded within and without by its specially chosen colour party. I chatted to the men outside the tent about the recent battle and then went inside. Next to the griffin I saw another standard, a long, thick shaft surmounted by a silver horse’s head. Below it, fixed to the shaft, were three round silver discs.

‘What’s this?’ I asked.

Domitus pointed to the new standard. ‘I had it made while you were at Hatra. Take a closer look.’

I walked forward and saw that each disc displayed a different design.

‘It is a record all the legion’s victories. The staff is made from a kontus, one that we found on the battlefield. And I put a horse’s head on top to signify the legion’s Parthian heritage.’

I reached out and touched the top disc, which sported an elephants’ head.

‘That one is to commemorate the victory over Porus.’

I pointed at the middle one, which showed a group of kings being trampled. ‘And this one?’

‘Surkh.’

The bottom disc showed an eagle with a spear through it by a river.

‘And this must be our recent victory at Dura.’

‘That’s right.’

I was impressed. ‘I did not realise that there was a poet inside you, Domitus.’

He frowned. ‘It’s good for morale, that’s all. I had the idea and Gallia and Godarz agreed, so we had the city’s best silver smith make the discs.’

‘It must have been expensive.’

He grinned. ‘It was, and old Rsan wanted to veto the idea, but you know what Gallia is like when someone tries to contradict her.’

‘Indeed. I like it, Domitus. Well done.’

Two weeks passed and messages arrived from Ctesiphon that Orodes was to return to his father’s court. He ignored them.

‘I can do what I like and only I command my bodyguard,’ he said defiantly, tossing the latest missive from his father into the fire.

His men were camped north of the city next to the Euphrates. Those that had been badly wounded and were unable to ride any more had been sent back to Susa. The rest had stayed with their lord.

I was sitting with him and his senior officers wrapped in our cloaks around a raging fire, for the nights were cool now.

‘I am going to Media,’ I said, staring at the flames. ‘I promised Farhad I would aid him. I must honour my pledge.’

‘I will come with you,’ said Orodes, his face illuminated by the fire.

‘I thought you had been ordered back to Ctesiphon.’

‘I have no wish to see my step-brother or his mother. Besides, I am the son of the King of Kings, I can go where I will.’

‘Perhaps it would be unwise to associate with me further, especially as I appear to be an outcast.’

He looked at me earnestly. ‘The day men like you become outcasts is the day the Parthian Empire dies.’

His officers muttered their agreement.

I decided to take a small force to Media; no more than a thousand riders. Half would be my cataphracts, though they would leave their scale armour and squires behind. The rest would be Orodes and his men, plus a few others to make up the full thousand. Nergal wanted to be one of them and was very disappointed when I refused his offer.

‘I am the commander of your horsemen, Pacorus.’

‘And that is precisely why you must stay here, my friend.’

He remained unconvinced. ‘There is no honour in staying at Dura while you go to campaign in the north.’

I laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘If I should fall, you will lead Dura’s horsemen. I cannot concentrate on Media if things here are remiss.’

It was a weak argument, but he nodded sullenly and that was that. The fact was that Nergal was my right-hand man and only he knew how to command heavy cavalry and horse archers in battle. Without Nergal Dura’s mounted arm would be woefully deficient in leadership. To alleviate his disappointment I told him to take a thousand riders to Babylon as a sign of Dura’s allegiance, and I told him that he could raid Mesene if he so chose.

‘Just don’t get yourself killed,’ I told him.

Gallia was also far from happy. ‘I see no reason for you to go to Media.’

‘I promised Farhad that I would assist him when I could.’

It was early evening and she was brushing her hair. Claudia lay asleep in her cot beside our bed.

‘He did not come to your aid when an enemy army was sitting before Dura.’

‘That is because he had been defeated and his kingdom threatened. You know all that.’

She stopped her grooming and turned to look at me. ‘Let Phraates look after his empire and you take care of Dura. He has not raised a finger to aid Media.’

‘I made a pledge, it has nothing to do with Phraates.’

‘Good, because he is a coward.’

‘You should not say that of the King of Kings.’

‘Why not, it is the truth. Or is speaking the truth forbidden in the Parthian Empire?’

‘Of course not,’ I replied. ‘I do not want to argue with you tonight.’

She caught my eye and smiled. ‘As you wish. Just make sure you come back.’

I wrapped my arms round her and kissed her on the cheek.

‘I always come back.’

‘Mmm. I suppose. And take that idiot Surena with you. Hopefully he will get himself killed and save me having to do it.’

Surena had become a good squire. I had enrolled him in the Sons of the Citadel scheme and he had shown great promise. He had a keen mind and learned quickly, but he also possessed a mischievous streak that led him astray. He was insatiably curious about the Amazons and had become obsessed by one of them in particular, a wiry girl who had earned the nickname Viper. She looked like an innocent teenager, with her small breasts and short-cut hair, but she had the strength of a lion and her skill with a bow, dagger and sword made her a formidable member of Gallia’s bodyguard. Surena had made a point of sitting next to her in classes, as Gallia had insisted that her most promising women should also be allowed to receive instruction. The tutors, mostly middle-aged or elderly Greeks, Egyptians and Parthians, had strongly objected. But an increase in their pay and a visit from the queen, during which she had used all her feminine charm, had won them over. Out of good manners Viper had smiled at Surena and they had exchanged courtesies, which he had mistaken for an invitation to get intimately acquainted. The upshot being that he had patted her backside and tried to kiss her, whereupon she had slapped his face and stormed off. Word of this reached Gallia, who had ordered Surena’s arrest. It had been with the utmost difficulty that I had secured his release. Gallia was very protective of her Amazons, and for the most part everyone treated them like a nest of cobras — with respect and at a safe distance. Surena, on the other hand, believed them to be his personal harem.

‘He’s just a boy,’ I pleaded with Gallia, who wanted to hang him from the city walls.

‘No, he’s a young man who should know better. Viper is not much older than him yet she does not behave in such a manner. Do you think it is acceptable that men should treat my Amazons like slaves?’

‘You know I do not.’

Her eyes burned with fire. ‘Then don’t insult me.’

‘He saved my life once. All I am asking is that you allow me to do the same for him now. What he did was wrong, but I ask you to spare his life.’

I said no more and she still seethed, but at last relented. ‘I give you his life. But keep him away from my Amazons and me. If he transgresses once more then I will kill him myself, after Viper has castrated him.’

So Surena had a very lucky escape and he left with me for Media. I said goodbye to Gallia and my daughter in the Citadel on an overcast autumn morning. Domitus and Godarz were in attendance, and an unhappy Nergal stood beside Praxima, who I think was glad that her husband was staying by her side.

‘Now remember,’ I said to Godarz, ‘to send messages to the craftsmen who worked at Dura previously that they will be offered good wages if they return. We need them back in the armouries.’

He grabbed my arm. ‘I know, Pacorus. You have created a system at Dura that is efficient so let it work. You concentrate on staying alive.’

‘I will pray to Mars so that he will watch over you,’ said Domitus, his new scar adorning his arm.

I said my farewells to Nergal and Praxima and told Nergal that he was in command of the army in my absence. This delighted Praxima but seemed to be little comfort to Nergal.

‘I should be coming with you,’ was all he muttered.

I held Gallia and Claudia and kissed my wife on the lips. We did not exchange words; there was no need. If the worst happened we knew that we would be together again in the next life. Finally I came to Dobbai.

‘You think I go on a fool’s errand?’

‘I think you must stay true to yourself. Besides, there will be nothing happening here to keep you amused, no enemies for you to kill at Dura. Being an idle king does not suit you.’

‘I’ll take that to mean that you approve, then.’

‘Be gone, son of Hatra.’

I hoisted myself into the saddle, raised my hand to all those present and rode from the courtyard. Orodes was beside me with our twin banners fluttering directly behind. We rode through the city and met the waiting horsemen outside the Palmyrene Gate — a thousand riders, each one leading a spare mule loaded with fodder for his horse and food for himself. There was a rumble of distant thunder overhead and then a light rain began to fall as we began our journey to Farhad’s kingdom.

We moved at speed through southern Hatra, then swung north once we had crossed the Tigris and reached Media six days after leaving Dura. At the border of Farhad’s kingdom we were met by a small party of the king’s guard, mounted spearmen who were led by the commander of Farhad’s bodyguard, a dour, pale-skinned individual named Cretus. As we rode north at a gentle pace he informed me of events that had taken place in Media since I was last in the kingdom.

‘The Romans sent only small raiding parties into Media, thankfully.’

‘And Prince Atrax?’

‘Much improved. He is able to ride now and wanted to lead a retaliatory expedition against the Romans, but Princess Aliyeh persuaded him otherwise.’

I laughed. Cretus did not.

‘Your sister has great influence in the kingdom now, highness.’

‘Really?’

He nodded. ‘It was your sister who organised the defence of the city and vowed to stay there and die if necessary. It is rumoured that the king himself now seeks her advice before making any decision.’

I thought of the cool reception I had received from her the last time I was here. Hopefully, now that the Roman threat had abated, her disposition towards me would be better. I was wrong.

It was raining heavily when we reached Farhad’s capital, the city and all around drenched by a relentless downpour that soaked our cloaks. Our horses had their heads cast down as they trotted up the great ramp into the city’s stronghold, the raindrops having matted their manes to their necks. Inside the citadel, no longer thronged with refugees, we rode to the palace and there dismounted. Dripping wet, I and Orodes would have to pay our respects to the king while the rest of the men went to the barracks to unsaddle their horses and change into dry clothes. Water ran off roofs in great torrents, creating large puddles in the palace square. Guards stood wrapped in cloaks around the perimeter, their heads bowed down as the rain coursed off their helmets. A court official, accompanied by a servant who held a parasol over his head, led us through the palace to the throne room, our path marked by wet footprints on the stone slabs. Farhad was sitting on one of the thrones, Atrax beside him with his wife standing on Farhad’s other side. Farhad was nodding in satisfaction when we entered and Atrax was beaming; no emotion was visible on my sister’s face.

‘Hail Farhad,’ I said, halting before him and bowing my head. ‘I have returned, as I promised I would.’

Farhad stood up and embraced me, then Orodes, ignoring our sodden clothes.

‘Welcome Pacorus, welcome Orodes. Media is glad that you are here.’

Atrax jumped up and shook our hands, much to the consternation of Aliyeh.

‘We heard about your victory over the Romans. I wished I had been there.

I looked at my sister’s narrowing eyes. ‘So do I, Atrax.’ I stood back and acknowledged her.

‘Sister.’

‘Brother,’ she muttered without emotion.

That night we ate with the king and discussed our next actions. The rain had finally ceased and the night was clear and cool. A great fire burned in the feasting hall for it was late in the year and the temperature was dropping. The conversation had avoided the matter of Phraates ceding Dura to the Romans in exchange for Gordyene, but my sister could not resist goading me.

‘Why have you come to Media, Pacorus?’

‘We ride to Gordyene to hasten the Romans in their retreat.’

‘Do you look for a new kingdom, brother?’

Atrax was indignant. ‘Aliyeh!’

‘Why would I want a new kingdom? Dura is my home.’

‘We have heard that Dura has been given to the Romans.’

I smiled at her. ‘I heard that too. After I have dealt with the Romans in Gordyene, I will visit Ctesiphon to hear that decision from the mouth of Phraates himself.’

‘I cannot believe it to be true,’ Farhad was shaking his head.

‘I am the king of Dura,’ I said, ‘and as long as I live it will remain Parthian.’

‘Well said,’ shouted Atrax.

‘And does Gordyene also belong to you?’ queried my sister.

‘Of course not,’ I replied.

‘Then why do you take soldiers there?’

‘To ensure that the Romans leave, as I said.’

‘I doubt that they will leave now that they have been denied Dura,’ she sniffed.

I shrugged. ‘It is of no importance. They occupy Parthian territory and must be thrown out.’

My sister picked at pieces of roasted chicken and lamb in her jewel-inlaid eating bowl, avoiding my eyes. Farhad looked solemn while Atrax was grinning like a small child who has just been given a present.

‘Your invasion may provoke the Romans,’ said Aliyeh at length, ‘and it is Media that will suffer if they decide to retaliate against Parthia.’

Farhad cleared his throat. ‘Yes, indeed, we have already suffered grievously at their hands.’

In fact the Romans had not invaded Media or Atropaiene after Farhad’s ill-judged invasion of Gordyene, though only because they had been diverted by their campaigns in Hatra and Dura.

‘Have no fear, lord king,’ I said, ‘I shall be showing my own banner in Gordyene so the Romans will know who is visiting them.’

‘Mine too,’ added Orodes.

I glanced at Atrax. ‘I will be making no demands on your forces, lord king, though if there are any warriors among your men who would like to avenge Balas, they will be very welcome to ride with me.’

‘No!’ Aliyeh rose from her couch and stood before me.

‘You have something to say, sister?’

‘The soldiers of Media are not yours to command.’

I smiled at her. ‘I know that.’

She jabbed a finger in my direction. ‘I know your game and it won’t work.’

‘I play no game.’

She laughed sarcastically. ‘The great King Pacorus, the saviour of the Parthian Empire, the man whose legacy is endless war and bloodshed. Media’s menfolk are not at your disposal.’

It was amazing that she could speak thus in the presence of Farhad, but his silence confirmed the words of Cretus — Media was now ruled by a woman. Indeed, it appeared that the empire was slowly being taken over by the opposite sex. There was Aruna pulling strings at Ctesiphon, Gallia refusing to obey my orders at Dura and now Aliyeh at Irbil. Where would it all end?

I finished nibbling at a wafer dipped in honey and wiped my hands on a tablecloth.

‘If, dear sister, we do not take the fight to the Romans then they will surely return once they have strengthened their forces. That is simple strategy.’

Her eyes flashed with anger. ‘You delude yourself, brother. You are merely chasing more glory. Well, I say that is a fool’s errand.’

I ignored her and turned to Farhad. ‘Lord King, Orodes and I will leave for Gordyene in two days. If there are any that wish to journey with us of their own accord, will you prohibit them from going with us?’

Aliyeh jumped up. ‘Majesty, I must protest.’

‘No, Aliyeh,’ said Atrax, ‘this is not your decision to make.’

Aliyeh sat back down, looking daggers at me. I smiled at her while Farhad looked decidedly uncomfortable. At length he spoke.

‘I do not wish to embroil Media in another war, Pacorus, I have to say. However, if my son wishes to travel north with you, I shall not prohibit him.’

Now it was Atrax’s turn to jump up. ‘Thank you, father. I accept your offer, Pacorus.’

Aliyeh looked despairingly at her husband but Atrax had raced over to shake my hand and then he embraced Orodes. Aliyeh, fighting back tears and rage, bowed to the king and then left us. I never saw her again before we left Irbil.

Two days later, our mules loaded down with six months’ supply of food and supplies, I led a thousand horsemen north to the Shahar Chay River. The last time I was here, two armies faced each other across its rippling waters. Today the riverbanks were devoid of life as I halted at the water’s edge. There was a cool wind blowing from the north and the sky was heaped with grey clouds. It was deathly silent aside from the sound of horses chomping on their bits and the banners of Susa and Dura fluttering in the breeze. I looked at Orodes who nodded at me, then at Atrax on my other side, who was staring across the river determinedly. Looking behind me, a long column of horsemen and mules stretched into the distance. Remus scraped at the ground impatiently. I patted his neck and then nudged him forward. The Romans had invaded my homeland and threatened my family. Even if Phraates had agreed to give up Dura, my experience of the Romans was that they were always looking to expand their empire, never the reverse. As far as Farhad’s scouts had gleaned there were still Romans in Gordyene, though his men had not ridden far into the interior of the kingdom for fear of antagonising them. Farhad was clearly frightened of them, though thankfully his son was made of sterner stuff.

As small spits of rain blew in our faces we rode across the river and into Gordyene. It was time to take the war to the enemy.