Parthian Dawn

Chapter 19

Gallia’s Amazons were already armed and mounted when I stumbled out into the early morning sun, shielding my eyes as the light stung them and intensified my headache. Domitus offered me a cup of water, which I drank in one gulp. Gallia vaulted into her saddle and beckoned Praxima forward.

‘Where is that heathen from the north, what was his name, Kuban?’

‘He and his men are camped a mile away.’

‘Go and fetch them, and tell him that we are riding south immediately.’

Praxima saluted and galloped off.

‘Wait,’ I shouted, ‘you cannot just ride off without any plan.’

‘He’s right, lady,’ said Domitus.

Gallia snapped her fingers and held out her right arm. Viper rode forward and handed Gallia her helmet.

‘You stay here and sleep off your hangover, Pacorus. I will ride south to save our daughter and your city.’

She put on her helmet and then tugged on Epona’s reins to turn the mare around, digging her knees into the beast and galloping away down the camp’s central avenue, followed by her Amazons.

I threw the cup on the ground. ‘In the name of all that’s holy Gallia, wait,’ I shouted at the top of my voice. It was useless; my wife was disappearing in a cloud of dust. My head felt as though a herd of horses was stampeding through it.

Nergal and Orodes ran up, followed by Surena. ‘Get my horse,’ I said to Surena.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked.

I could have run him through at that moment. ‘Just get my horse, idiot!’

He momentarily froze, saluted and then ran off to the stables.

‘Easy, Pacorus,’ muttered Domitus, ‘remember you are on display. It’s not a good idea for the king to show he has lost control of things.’

I looked at him, and then took a deep breath. ‘Very well. Sound assembly, you will take all the foot back to Dura as quickly as you can.’ He raised his arm in salute and then began barking orders at his officers who had gathered behind him. Orodes and Nergal looked at each other in confusion.

‘Dura is under siege,’ I said to them.

‘Under siege?’ they looked even more confused.

I threw up my hands. ‘You know as much as I do.’

Then Byrd and Malik arrived on their horses. I pointed at Byrd.

‘What is going on?’

‘We received news from a courier sent from one of your forts earlier. Dura under siege.’

‘Who is besieging the city?’ asked Orodes.

‘The Romans?’ I said.

Byrd shook his head. ‘Chosroes.’

‘Chosroes?’ I did not believe it.

‘That was the message,’ said Byrd flatly.

Surena arrived on his horse with Remus in tow. I went inside the tent and began donning my equipment. I felt sick, tired and confused. I strapped on my sword, leather cuirass and picked up my helmet. Nergal and Orodes stood waiting for orders.

‘Orodes, assemble the cataphracts and bring them south. I will ride ahead with the horse archers. Nergal, how many of your men are already mounted?’

‘No more than two hundred.’

‘It will have to do,’ I said, ‘I ride at once. Nergal, you will follow with the rest, and bring the lords as well.’

They nodded and left.

‘Orodes,’ I called after them.

‘Pacorus?’

‘Before you leave, be so kind as to inform my father and the other kings of what has happened.’

He nodded and then followed Nergal.

‘Byrd and I will be riding with you,’ said Malik.

Half an hour later we were heading south along the Euphrates, two hundred horse archers plus me, Byrd and Malik. I thanked Shamash that we had built the forts along the river; otherwise we might not have received the terrible news until it was too late. Perhaps it was already too late. Do not think that! Chosroes, the miserable rat. He had obviously been watching events carefully, no doubt encouraged by the nest of cockroaches at Ctesiphon. He must have believed that the Romans would defeat me, perhaps even kill me, leaving Dura defenceless. But still, even if that had been the case, he would have had to deal with a victorious Roman army. His ragtag forces were no match for the Romans and he must have known that. Unless, of course, he had allies. I suddenly saw the hands of Narses and Mithridates pulling the strings of their puppet.

Gallia set a cruel pace. We had thrown some food and fodder in sacks and tied them to our saddles and then followed her. She had collected Kuban and his men, whose camp stood empty and deserted. A horse can comfortably cover around thirty miles a day, but that first day we travelled over thirty and still did not catch up with my queen. We halted for the night at one of the mud-brick forts where the commander, a fresh-faced centurion on crutches, told us that she had visited them earlier.

‘They took all the fodder but left most of our food, sir.’

I pointed at his crutches. ‘What happened?’

‘Got crushed under a testudo during training, sir. Occupational hazard.’

‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘How was the queen when you saw her?’

‘Like a snake that has just been stepped on, sir.’

The garrison of each fort had been greatly reduced when the army had marched north, but a small number of men had been left behind, including any that were infirm or generally unfit for duty. In this way the fort’s stores would be secure and communications maintained between the city and the army. We slept under the sky outside the fort that night and, after what seemed only five minutes of sleep, saddled the horses before dawn and were riding south again as the first red shards of light were seen in the eastern sky. Unwashed and unshaven, we picked up a quick pace once more and thundered ahead. There was no conversation as we headed for Dura, but throughout the day I began to worry what we would find when we got there. If the city had fallen… Do not think, keep moving, stay focused.

The second night our bodies ached and our horses were lathered in sweat. So we halted, unsaddled them and led them into the cool waters of the Euphrates. Once more we grabbed a pitiful amount of sleep and rode south again in the pre-dawn light. After three hours of hard riding we finally caught up with Gallia. Her horses were tied together in the shade of a large group of date palms a hundred paces from the Euphrates. Most of Kuban’s fierce warriors were similarly in the shade, many lying asleep on the ground beside their leather armour. But Gallia had also ensured that she would not be surprised and had thrown out parties of guards to keep watch, and a dozen of Kuban’s men had ridden up to our column before we arrived at the main body, escorting us down the road to where Dura’s queen was standing with a group of the Amazons. I dismounted, handed Remus’ reins to Surena and walked over to them. They parted when they saw me, bowing their heads as I walked up to my wife.

‘You took your time,’ was all she said, looking at a semi-naked man spread-eagled on the ground in front of her. His wrists and ankles had been lashed tightly to wooden stakes that had been hammered into the ground. The figure of Kuban was kneeling beside him, a bloody knife in his hand.

‘This wretch has told us that the army of Mesene is besieging Dura,’ she snapped her fingers and one of her Amazons handed her a round shield. She then passed it to me. ‘But this carries the bird-god symbol of Persis.’

‘Narses is at Dura?’ I said.

Gallia smiled and then nodded to Kuban, who ran the blade of his knife across the victim’s chest, drawing blood as he did so. The man’s body contorted with pain and Kuban stopped cutting. The man turned his head and spat at him. Kuban wiped his face and then cut off the man’s left ear, causing him to scream and thrash wildly at his bonds.

‘You heard his majesty,’ barked Kuban. ‘Answer his question.’

The man’s eyes were full of fear as they looked at me, blood pouring from his ear socket.

‘No Narses,’ said weakly, ‘he sent us to reinforce Chosroes. Water, please.’

Gallia walked away. ‘Kill him, Kuban.’

I winced as Kuban drew his blade across the man’s throat. He passed from this life as blood gushed from his neck onto the earth. I followed Gallia.

‘We ran into a patrol earlier and killed all of them except that one. Kuban has some very useful skills when it comes to extracting information.’

I stopped her and placed my hands on her shoulders. There were black rings round her eyes and she looked very tired.

‘You must rest.’

She shook off my hands. ‘I will rest when my daughter is safe.’

Gallia looked at my men leading their horses to drink from the river. ‘Is that all you brought?’

‘More are coming. More to the point, how many do we face?’

‘Fifteen thousand, according to that piece of carrion we captured.’

‘When did they arrive?’

‘Five days ago. They have yet to assault the city but it cannot be long before they do so.’

Fifteen thousand was a big army, but I was not as worried now as I was when I first heard that Dura was under siege. Parthians have no knowledge of siege warfare, save surrounding a city and starving it into surrender. Then Gallia dashed my hopes.

‘He told us that Chosroes knew that the city would be weakly defended because its army had marched north, and he has brought siege towers with him.’

‘Siege towers?’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but they had to be dismantled and then reassembled once at the city. He told us that the assault would take place tomorrow. We have to get to Dura today.’

I grabbed her arm; she wrenched it free.

‘Wait, Gallia, please wait. We cannot attack fifteen thousand men with just over a thousand. We must wait until Nergal and Orodes arrive. That at least will even the odds.’

Her blue eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t care about odds, all I care about is my daughter.’

‘So do I, but getting ourselves killed will not help her.’

Her eyes misted with tears and I held her close. ‘Have no fear, remember that Godarz is in command of the city and he has engines at his disposal.’

Byrd and Malik rode further south with a score of horsemen to try to discover more information, but I forbade them to take any risks or engage any enemy they might encounter. I did not want them to be staked out in the sun and tortured, or worse. While I waited for them to return the men and women took the opportunity to rest, fill their bellies and tend to their horses. Several of the latter were lame due to the exertions of the journey and so they and their riders would have to be left behind. This further reduced our numbers, and though Kuban and his officers wanted to attack the enemy without waiting, I knew that our only hope lay with Nergal and Orodes. Nergal arrived that evening with his horse archers and the lords and their retainers. I was delighted to discover that Atrax and Vistaspa accompanied them, along with two thousand of Hatra’s horse archers and another three thousand of Media’s horse archers.

‘The rest of Hatra’s army, together with the forces of the other kings, are marching down the east bank of the Euphrates, majesty,’ he said formally. Same old Vistaspa. Then he added. ‘Your foot under Domitus are following in our wake on this side of the river.’

It was a happy reunion and as the men relieved their horses of their saddles and prepared an evening meal, the senior officers gathered under a gnarled old date palm to decide what to do. The mood was relaxed as we drank water and chewed on hard biscuit. I estimated that we now numbered over seventeen thousand men, excellent odds for the morrow. And crucially, Orodes’ own and Dura’s cataphracts were following close behind.

‘The heavy cavalry will be here tomorrow, Pacorus,’ reported Nergal, ‘together with the camel train carrying armour, arrows, fodder and food.

‘Are you planning to wait for their arrival before you attack?’ asked Vistaspa, his long black hair now streaked with grey.

‘Wait?’

The atmosphere changed suddenly with Gallia’s arrival.

‘Wait for what, wait for my city to fall or for my daughter to be skewered on the end of a spear?’

Vistaspa tried to maintain his sense of decorum, bowing his head to Dura’s queen. ‘I was merely endeavouring to ascertain if…’

‘Useless words,’ she spat, ‘we attack tonight.’

A look of horror crossed Vistaspa’s face, though I was unsure whether it was caused by him being spoken to in such a manner by a woman or the thought of tired men and horses fighting a battle in the dark. To his credit he retained his composure.

‘Majesty, it would be unwise to attack now.’

But Gallia was in no mood for arguments. ‘Unwise? Is it wise for a soldier to contradict a queen?’

Vistaspa’s face hardened and his eyes flashed with anger. He had, after all, been royalty himself in a former life.

‘Gallia,’ I interrupted, ‘the horses are exhausted after a long ride. They will not perform well in combat in such a state, and night battles are confusing affairs at best.’

‘It is not the Parthian way to fight in the darkness,’ added Atrax.

The prince of Media was a brave men and a good friend, though his notion that fighting enemies face to face in daylight was more honourable than killing them at night made little impression on my wife, who now spun round to face him.

‘Not the Parthian way? What is the Parthian way, boy, to sit under a tree and do nothing while my people are butchered?’

Atrax’s eyes were wide with alarm as Gallia advanced upon him, the ferocious Kuban backing her up.

‘Enough!’ I shouted. ‘If we argue among ourselves the victory of Narses will be our only reward. Gallia, we wait until Byrd and Malik return, and then we will make our plans. Until then the men and horses will be rested.’

Gallia sneered at me, turned and strode off into the night followed by her loyal hound. I excused myself and went after her, catching her up and then walking beside her as she went back to the Amazons.

‘You know waiting till it’s light makes sense,’ I said.

‘Do I.’

‘More men will be arriving tomorrow.’

She stopped and faced me. ‘Men? I’m beginning to wonder if there are any men in Parthia.’

‘That is unfair.’

She eyed me coolly. ‘I remember a time in Italy when we fought at night to rescue the army of Spartacus.’

‘That was different.’

She would have none of it. ‘No it wasn’t. If Claudia dies then her blood will be on your hands.’

I tried to put my arm around her but she brushed away my affection and went back to her women.

An hour later Byrd and Malik returned and reported that the army of Chosroes had made no assault on the city. I thanked Shamash for that. But they suspected that the attack would be made imminently as four siege towers had been placed before the western wall. This made my heart sink — Dura’s walls were stout but not particularly high; siege towers meant soldiers could be placed on top of the city’s walls with ease. We had to attack in the early hours. They also told me that the pontoon bridge had not been destroyed and that there were in addition enemy soldiers on the eastern bank of the Euphrates. This offered some hope as it meant that the enemy had dissipated his strength by dividing his forces. I thanked them both and told them to get some food and rest, although it was now only a couple of hours before the dawn.

It was still dark when I assembled the senior officers and told them of my intentions. I had not slept a wink, partly because I had been formulating a plan of attack but mostly because Gallia’s words were still ringing in my ears. I had not shaved since leaving the kings and I felt dirty, but no worse than the tired individuals gathered around me. We stood in a circle next to the old date palm once more, Gallia’s eyes boring into me. Kuban once more attended her, who looked no different from the first time I had met him. Perhaps he was a demon from the northern steppes that required no food or sleep. Atrax kept glancing at his sister-in-law but avoided her gaze when she looked in his direction.

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘We will break camp immediately and ride south to Dura. Nergal, you remain here with the lords and wait for Orodes and the heavy horsemen and the camels. I have learned that the enemy has soldiers on the eastern side of the river as well as camped in front of the city. Therefore, if we can seize and hold the bridge across the river we will divide his army and make the odds more favourable.’

We broke camp and headed south. I threw a party of scouts led by Byrd and Malik ahead to ensure we did not run into the enemy on the way, but as the dawn broke and light filled the world we saw no activity ahead. We halted and waited for them an hour after dawn, though Gallia once again vented her frustration at the lack of action. However, when they returned and reported the road ahead was clear for the next five miles we once again commenced our journey. Ten miles from the city we divided our column. Vistaspa and the bulk of Hatra’s horse archers would keep to the road so they could seize the pontoon bridge and hold it, while I took the Amazons, my own two hundred men, Kuban’s thousand warriors and Atrax’s horsemen into the desert. This would take us more time to reach the city but would allow us to deploy into line and attack the enemy from the west. I still worried that we were too few and had insufficient ammunition but the die was cast.

I could see Dura’s Citadel shimmering in the distance now; we were only around half an hour away from our destination. I slowed the column and then halted it, and called together the commanders. Kuban may have been good at torturing the helpless and he certainly looked like a warrior, but he and his men were an unknown quantity when it came to the battlefield, so I placed them on the right wing. My own men and the Amazons I deployed in the centre, with Atrax and the Medians on the left. I wanted Gallia close to me when we attacked so I could keep an eye on her and try to prevent her from doing anything rash when we reached the city. Then we moved forward at a canter.

Dura was plainly visible now, its yellow walls and towers set against a blue sky. Rising above the walls was the Citadel standing defiantly. I could see the enemy camp as well, scores of brightly coloured tents of various sizes filling the plain directly in front of the city, plus hundreds of camels that transported provisions for the army of Chosroes. Hundreds more horses were tethered in compounds. Curiously, they had made no use of the walled camp that usually housed Domitus’ legionaries and which now stood empty.

‘Open order,’ I commanded, which was passed along the line. We would have to move through the horses, camels and tents before we reached the enemy’s troops. And then I saw the siege towers looming above the tents. It was difficult to tell, but it appeared that their sides were covered in hide as protection against arrows. Not that there appeared to be any arrows being fired from the walls.

We flanked Domitus’ camp, then rode into the enemy’s compound and threaded our way between the camels, horse compounds, wagons, campfires and tents. The enemy army may have been drawn up in front of the city but there were still many people milling round, mostly camp followers — wives, whores, the deranged and hawkers — a veritable army of non-combatants who trailed every army, though I tried to discourage such hangers-on in Dura’s army. A half-naked woman, a whore no doubt, came out of a tent with her breasts exposed. She froze when she saw us, and then died when one of my men put an arrow through her throat. It was a good shot.

‘Ignore them,’ I shouted, ‘save your arrows.’

I nocked an arrow in my bowstring as we left the camp, infirm enemy soldiers and civilians scattering before us. We rode on towards the rear of the enemy army. I saw few horsemen save officers riding up and down with swords in hand berating their men to move forward. The army of Mesene was as ragged as I remembered it, but it made for an imposing sight. Archers, spearmen with shields, slingers and men armed only with axes and clubs filled the area in front of Dura’s western wall. We fanned out into a long line of two ranks and moved into a canter, then a gallop. I saw the towers ahead, archers packed on their top platforms searching for targets on the walls or towers, but I could see none of Dura’s garrison.

At a range of five hundred paces we began loosing our bows, firing at a rate of five arrows a minute as we quickly closed the distance between ourselves and the enemy’s rear ranks. The shouts and war cries of the Mesenians, expecting the walls to be conquered by the siege towers, drowned out the sounds of our horses’ hooves, so that the first they knew of our arrival was the sight of their comrades collapsing on the ground, their bodies pierced by arrows. Most wore no armour and more than a few had no helmets, so our arrows easily found flesh and bone. Around twenty thousand arrows had been fired before they realised what was happening. Then we were less then fifty paces from them, loosing arrows as we abruptly wheeled our horses’ right and then retreated, shooting a final shot over the rear quarters of our animals. A line of Mesenian dead bore testament to the success of our first charge. As we had done a hundred times in training, we halted five hundred paces from the enemy and then wheeled right once more, before commencing another charge against them. By this time the enemy had realised what was occurring and their officers were frantically trying to realign their ranks to form a wall of shields and spears against us. I strung an arrow and shot it, and then shot another and another as we hurtled towards them, then yanked Remus to the right once more, but this time enemy arrows were being shot back at us. Horses and riders went down as we pulled back. I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach as I desperately sought out Gallia. There she was, leading her Amazons, shooting arrows and for the moment safe.

Relief.

Back we went, loosing arrows and taking more casualties, and then we fell back once more to regroup. I reached into my quiver. Empty! I looked left and right and saw other riders similarly out of missiles. In front of us the Mesenian line, battered and littered with dead, still held. I ordered a halt to be sounded and considered our next action. And then I saw a wondrous sight. From within the city what appeared to be black rocks arched into the sky and fell on and around the siege towers. One, two, three and then a fourth, hurtling into the sky and then smashing into the wooden towers. When they struck a tower or crashed onto the earth they turned into a fireball. How was this possible? Then I realised that they must be clay pots filled with the Chinese liquid that was kept in the armoury. But how were they being launched? In minutes one of the siege towers was ablaze, burning figures hurling themselves from the top platform, then a second caught fire and exhilaration swept through me.

‘What is causing that?’ Gallia was at my side, pointing at one of the burning towers with her bow.

‘I have no idea,’ I replied. ‘But I thank Shamash for his miracle. I am out of arrows.’

She shoved her bow back in its case. ‘Me also.’

Around us men and women began cheering as a third tower was hit by two Chinese fireballs and erupted into flames. We might have failed to break the enemy line, but the attack on the city had been stopped in its tracks.

Then I heard frantic horn blasts and looked to my left, to see a line of horsemen armed with spears, protected by round shields and wearing helmets hurtling towards Kuban’s men. The latter in turn charged them and they smashed into each other with a sickening crunching sound that echoed across the battlefield. Enemy cavalry had hit us with a devastating counterattack against our left wing. I placed my bow in its case. I forgot about the enemy foot soldiers in front of us — we had to help Kuban or our flank would be rolled up.

‘Form column,’ I shouted, ‘follow me.’

I tugged on Remus’ reins with my right hand to turn him left, then shouted at him to move. He knew every inference and tone of my voice and broke into a gallop. I wrapped his reins round my left wrist and drew my sword with my right hand. Horns blasted and Gallia, the Amazons the rest of the horsemen careered after me. We formed a loose wedge as we closed the gap between the enemy horsemen that were going to work with their spears, parrying the swords and spears of Kuban’s men with their shields. Already they were cutting their way through the northern horsemen, who to their credit were fighting back and giving ground reluctantly. Then we hit the flank of the Mesenians and in no time a frantic melee erupted. I swung my sword at the neck of a passing horseman, the blade biting deep into his flesh and knocking him from his saddle. I felt a searing pain in my left arm and turned to see a spear blade had brushed my flesh. I yanked on Remus’ reins and he turned away from my assailant, who directed his own mount in an attempt to skewer me with his lance. I raised my sword and brought it down to cut through the wooden shaft, then brought it up and thrust the point into the man’s thigh. He yelped in pain and turned his horse away to beat a retreat. And so it went on, stabbing, slashing and thrusting at fleeting targets as they came within range. Screams, shouts and obscene language filled the air. My men tried to stay close to me, tried to maintain some semblance of discipline, but it was hard as individuals became locked in combat and absorbed in their own private battles. Riderless horses, wild-eyed and bleeding, bolted from the carnage while others, too hurt to move, stood still and then collapsed on to the ground.

There was a blast of horns and the Mesenians began to disengage and fall back. They obviously had had enough, for the moment. Other horns sounded, our own, and we too fell back to regroup. Gallia and the Amazons appeared mercifully unhurt. We reformed into our companies, the ground in front of us sprinkled with dead and dying men and horses, though in truth, considering the great effort that had been expended hacking and stabbing, there were fewer casualties than I expected. But there were many wounded, men with wounds to their bodies, arms and legs, and also horses that had been gashed by blades. I checked Remus over; I could not see any wounds.

Smoke was now drifting across the battlefield from the four siege towers, which were all burning brightly. To our front the enemy foot soldiers, plus those horse archers whose mounts we passed in camp, had now turned away from the city and were marching towards us. I looked left and right. No one had any arrows left and arrows were now flying from the enemy ranks towards us. There was nothing left to do. I turned to the nearest signaller and ordered him to sound retreat. He blew his horn, a sound that was soon echoing down the line. Gallia galloped over to my side as horsemen wheeled their animals away to ride back from where we had come from.

‘We are falling back?’ She had a nasty dent in her helmet and her left sleeve was gashed, though I could see no blood.

‘Are you hurt?’ I enquired.

She ignored my question. ‘The city is still besieged, Pacorus.’

‘Their siege towers are destroyed and their foot are marching towards us. They will attempt no further assault on Dura today. Now get your women back.’

Kuban and his men acted as a rearguard as we fell back through the enemy camp. I ordered that any enemy horses and camels were to be untethered and scattered into the desert, and the tents, wagons, supplies and compounds to be torched. The next few minutes were not the proudest of my life as my men and the Amazons went about firing the camp cutting down any unfortunates they came across. Panicking women ran around screaming and were either trampled under horses’ hooves or killed with swords. I saw one woman, with rouge on her cheeks and gold in her hair, perhaps no older than twenty, fall to her knees in front of a group of Amazons, imploring them to show mercy. Perhaps she was a whore or a slave taken against her will to serve the soldiers of Chosroes. It did not matter. Gallia rode up to her and almost severed her head with a swing of her sword. Tents burst into flames, their occupants running into the sunlight with their clothes alight. They too were killed. Sick and wounded soldiers limped from hospital tents, only to be cut down without mercy. I was worried that the bloodlust would distract my men and so rode among them, ordering them to fall back, smoke stinging my eyes as the camp was engulfed in flames. Terrified horses and camels were herded into the desert and scattered far and wide as we finally left the Mesenian camp and moved back into the desert.

Recall was sounded and once more the men formed into their companies as Kuban’s men emerged from the smoke and again formed up on our right wing. Atrax, Gallia and Kuban joined me, their eyes red from the smoke, their faces streaked with dirt and their blades smeared with blood.

‘We must get back to reinforce Vistaspa.’

So we rode to the bridge, our wounded carried behind other riders. Fortunately the enemy cavalry did not pursue us as we cantered across the plain to the river. We arrived to discover that Vistaspa had seized the bridge intact and had erected a protective barricade of wagons on the eastern bank, facing the enemy on that side of the river. He had established his command post next to a small cart on the western side of the river, around two hundred paces from the pontoon bridge.

‘There is no point in holding one end of a wooden bridge if the enemy can set fire to the other,’ he said.

He told me that when he arrived there was only a light guard manning the bridge, whose members had been speedily killed, allowing him to send men across the river and secure the eastern end. Then he manned the barricade with archers and threw a cordon around the bridge on the west bank of the river. As I spoke to him my cavalry filed past his horsemen sitting in their companies ready to beat off any attack. My men dismounted and threw themselves on the ground, exhausted. He looked at our tired faces and ripped attire.

‘We could not break through to the city,’ I said despondently.

He nodded and handed me a waterskin. ‘Is Queen Gallia well?’

I managed a smile. ‘She is well.’

I looked across the river to see a great mass of horsemen approaching from the north.

‘Hatra’s horsemen, plus those of the other kings,’ remarked Vistaspa. He looked at me. ‘Your city will soon be free of any threat.’

More horn blasts came from our side of the river and I mounted Remus once more. I saw the banner of Orodes fluttering in the hot air and behind it a column of cataphracts, the sun glinting off the whetted points of their great lances, followed by Nergal, Dura’s lords and their horse archers. My tiredness started to recede as I rode to greet them. The enemy’s army had now been split in two, but we still had to force a way through to the city. Dura was difficult to see clearly now because the whole plain was wreathed in smoke caused by the burning enemy camp. I now realised that torching it was a mistake. Gallia rode over to me as Vistaspa joined us on his horses.

Orodes, dressed in his scale amour, raised his left arm. ‘Hail Pacorus, hail Gallia.’

‘We can push our way through to the city now,’ said Gallia impatiently.

Across the river the shouts and cries of thousands of men signalled that the two sides had now clashed. I looked at the smoke obscuring the city, horses and camels bolting and injured men limping past us.

‘What are we waiting for?’ snapped Gallia.

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Orodes, get your heavy cavalry into line on the plain behind that burning camp. Nergal, get your men on the plain in front of those of Orodes.’

Gallia nodded her head enthusiastically and Vistaspa raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Across the river the din of battle increased.

‘You disagree, Lord Vistaspa?’ I asked.

He was aware of Gallia’s animosity towards him so he chose his words carefully.

‘It might be prudent to wait for your legions to arrive.’

‘They are two hours’ march away at least,’ said Orodes.

‘Two hours is too long,’ said Gallia. ‘We must attack again.’

They were both right, so I decided to compromise.

‘Orodes, your men will form a reserve in case the enemy mount a charge against us at the bridge. Nergal and Atrax, take the horse archers and annoy the enemy deployed in front of the city.’

They saluted and rode off to organise their men.

‘What are you doing?’ said Gallia, clearly annoyed.

‘We use the horse archers to pepper the enemy with arrows. They will not storm the city now.’

Vistaspa nodded and Gallia rode off to refill her quiver. Orodes had brought camels loaded with arrows with him, and now these were distributed among the horse archers of Dura and Media. Surena also went and brought me back a full quiver. Nergal and Atrax then deployed their men across the plain to the west of the city and led them forward once more. This time, however, they operated in their hundred-man companies, moving forward, shooting at the enemy and then retreating. Orodes deployed his cataphracts behind the archers, well back from still-smouldering enemy camp. If the enemy’s horsemen showed themselves again the horse archers were to fall back to let the cataphracts deal with them. And so, while we waited for Domitus, the enemy was once again assaulted by an arrow storm. The enemy also had arrows, but because they had used many when we had first assaulted their ranks earlier that day, their fire soon lessened and then stopped altogether. Nergal reported that they had fallen back from in front of the city’s walls and were grouped in a solid block on the plain between the city and their own destroyed camp. Our horsemen did not ride through the charred remains of the camp, but rather skirted it by riding north to south, shooting arrows at the enemy ranks on their left side. Then, once a company had ridden beyond the southern flank of the enemy, it wheeled right and rode back north behind the camp. In this way there was a continuous chain of companies loosing arrows at the enemy. The ammunition expenditure was prodigious, and after it had made two circuits each company had to ride back to the camel train for fresh arrows. We could not maintain such expenditure indefinitely, for soon our own supplies would be exhausted, but we did not have to. To the north the shrill sound of trumpet blasts could be heard — Domitus had arrived at last.

His cohorts began deploying on the plain as he reported to me. He looked remarkably fresh after his forced march, but then he and his men were in peak physical condition. The tents, mules and wagons had been left behind and were being escorted by the rest of the Median cavalry. The legionaries had slept under the stars after each day’s march with guards posted every ten paces. It would have irked Domitus to disregard a habit of a lifetime, but there was no time to erect a camp each night.

‘It will take the boys a couple of hours before they are in their battle formations and after they’ve had some water to drink,’ he said, taking off his helmet and wiping his sweating forehead with a rag.

Even as he spoke legionaries were filling water bottles in the river and ferrying them back to their comrades. It was early afternoon now and the heat was intense. A canvas awning had been erected next to the wagon that was Vistaspa’s command post, and several stools had been placed under it. Gallia, Vistaspa and I joined Domitus as he placed his helmet on the ground and sat down on one of the stools.

‘So,’ he said, ‘what is the situation?’

I told him about our attack with the cavalry earlier and how the siege towers had been destroyed by fire.

‘Lucky for you that you kept those Roman engineers,’ he said. ‘It was undoubtedly their machines that threw those fireballs. Did the enemy fire their own camp?’

‘Er, no,’ I replied.

‘Then which idiot set it alight?’

Gallia pointed at me. Domitus shook his head. ‘I worry about you, Pacorus.’

He stood up and put his hands on his hips. ‘We can’t march through it, so we’ll have to split our forces and launch our attacks from the flanks, straight at their centre.’

I told him about the enemy horsemen that had counterattacked us.

‘Where are they now?’ he asked.

‘I do not know.’

He smiled. ‘They will be covering their foot, most likely.’

‘Orodes and his horsemen will deal with them,’ I said

The sounds of battle could still be heard across the river, though Domitus made no mention of what was happening on the other side of the Euphrates. His attention was focused on this side of the river. He replaced his helmet on his head and strode away to join a knot of his officers who were waiting nearby, then they all marched off to rejoin their units.

A lull descended over the battlefield as Domitus arranged his cohorts for the next attack on the enemy. Nergal’s horse archers were pulled back and drawn up on both flanks of the legions, while behind the foot Orodes’ cataphracts roasted in their scale armour. With Gallia I rode over to where the legions were deploying for battle, each one drawn up in three lines on either side of the still-burning camp. This meant that there was a large gap between each legion and I was worried that the enemy could escape through this space.

‘Escape to where?’ asked Domitus, watching his officers arrange their cohorts in close order. ‘If any do manage to escape, all that awaits them are the scorpions of the desert and Haytham’s warriors.’

Those of Nergal’s horse archers who were drawn up on the right flank I sent across to the left, for Gallia had brought her Amazons with her. Behind them came the leather-clad horsemen of Kuban, who now formed themselves into a long line extending south. I could see the enemy mass clearly, a great brown block of Mesenian foot, which included the horse archers who had left their mounts in camp. I wondered what they were thinking as the legionaries made their final preparations. They were about a quarter of a mile from Dura’s walls and had been standing there for some time now, with no food or water and under a blazing sun. I glanced at the Pontic Legion drawn up on our left.

The constant drills and training that the legionaries had performed over the preceding months meant that their deployment into their battle positions was as smooth as silk. The forthcoming clash would be a mere formality, but then the unexpected happened. I never considered that the enemy opposite us would attack, but that is precisely what they did. Not a measured approach followed by a disciplined rush at our ranks, but a wild charge against the Duran Legion positioned to the north of the burnt camp. Whoever the general was who led those forces, and I hoped it was Chosroes himself so I could kill him with my own sword, he had obviously realised the hopelessness of his situation. Having retreated from before the walls of Dura, he and his men were now trapped between the city and two legions that were each flanked by horsemen. I estimated by the extent of the enemy line that there were still around six or seven thousand men arrayed against us, though many of those were dismounted horse archers who had been used to sweep Dura’s walls and towers of guards as the siege towers approached the city. Now those same men were largely without arrows. The rest were a motley collection of spearmen and other foot armed with axes, clubs and swords. Some of our horsemen had been hit and killed by lead balls, which meant that there were also some slingers among their ranks. But their commander knew that to stand and wait to be attacked was to invite certain death, so he threw all his men against the Duran Legion standing to the north of the charred camp. He could see that the latter divided the forces formed up against him, and probably gambled that he could smash his way through our lines before our forces deployed to the south of the camp could reach him. It was a bold gamble.

The two sides were around five hundred paces apart when there was a mighty cheer and the whole of the enemy mass began moving towards the Duran Legion. I was standing beside Domitus, finalising the plan of attack, when I heard and then saw the charge of the enemy. For a moment I was stunned; I could hardly believe that they would attempt such a thing. Then alarm swept through me. If they broke through the legion then they would reach the bridge, and if they reached the bridge they might escape across the Euphrates.

‘Brave but stupid,’ remarked Domitus nonchalantly.

Already trumpet blasts were coming from the legion’s centuries as the frontline cohorts prepared to receive the enemy’s charge. As they had done countless times on the training field, the men would close up and then advance against the seething mass that was now running towards them. When they were within thirty to forty paces of the opposition the front ranks would hurl their javelins, draw their swords and then charge the enemy. The storm of javelins would cut down their front ranks and then the legionaries would go to work with their short swords, stabbing with their points at their opponents.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Domitus, ‘the boys will hold. You had better deal with those, though.’

He was pointing at a long line of horsemen heading in our direction from south of the city, no doubt the same ones that had attacked Kuban’s men earlier in the day. I vaulted into Remus’ saddle.

‘The enemy must not be allowed to reach the bridge, Domitus.’

He raised his hand. ‘They won’t, but you had better keep those horsemen away.’

‘Don’t worry about them,’ I replied.

I galloped back to my horse archers, who were already stringing arrows in their bows, while Kuban’s men levelled their spears in preparation for a charge. However, I decided that this was a task for Orodes. I sent a rider to fetch the Prince of Susiana and his men, and at the same time I ordered our whole line to fall back. This would temporarily expose the right flank of the Pontic Legion, which dismayed Gallia. As horns blew and the horsemen about-faced and pulled back she was at my side, her Amazons behind her. She pointed at the approaching enemy horsemen, who were still at least half a mile away.

‘Why are you running away from them? We should be attacking them. You are leaving your own foot soldiers exposed.’

My patience was fast running out. ‘If you were one of my officers I would have had you clapped in chains for your insubordination by now.’

With hindsight this was the wrong thing to say. ‘Don’t you dare speak to me that like,’ she bellowed. By now those horsemen within earshot had stopped their rearward movements and were sitting in their saddles observing their king and queen bickering.

‘Get back and obey my orders,’ I insisted.

‘I will not let you abandon our soldiers. Amazons,’ she shouted, ‘face front and prepare to charge.’ Her women nocked arrows, while Kuban’s men began moving their horses forward.

I swung in the saddle. ‘Stay where you are!’

I turned back to Gallia, but at that moment the low rumble of horses’ hooves came from the rear and I saw the banner of Orodes coming towards me. He and his cataphracts rode through our horsemen and began forming into two ranks in front of us. Ahead, the enemy was breaking into a canter.

‘I desire you to deal with those horsemen opposite, my friend,’ I said.

‘Consider it done.’ He smiled and rode forward and as one the two lines of cataphracts began moving towards the enemy, at first trotting and then breaking into a canter. Each rider then levelled his kontus and grasped it with both hands on his right side as the cataphracts broke into a gallop. Moments later there was a scraping noise as the two sides collided. As the horizon disappeared in a cloud of dust and our ears were filled with the screams of men and horses, to our left the Pontic Legion was moving forward prior to wheeling left to attack the flank of the Mesenian foot that had failed to break through to the bridge.

It was time to remove Gallia from the battlefield.

‘Gallia,’ I shouted, ‘take your Amazons and Kuban’s men and ride to the city gates. Reinforce the garrison while we mop up here.’

She was in no mood to be told what to do, but a mother’s desire to ensure that her child was safe overrode all other emotions. With the enemy foot trying to save itself and Orodes driving back the enemy horsemen, the way to the city now lay open. It would take some time for the rubble and braces that would have been placed behind the city’s gates to be removed, but at least Gallia would have something to occupy her mind.

She nodded and ordered Praxima and the rest of the Amazons to follow her towards the Palmyrene Gate. Behind them Kuban and his men followed in a long column. I also sent Vagharsh and my banner with Gallia to ensure that the garrison knew who was riding to the gates. This left me with around a hundred Duran horse archers, including Surena.

‘Feisty, the queen!’ he beamed.

‘Be quiet.’’

‘Did you see Viper when we were shooting arrows at them earlier? Beautiful. Do you think she would marry me?’

‘Not if she has any sense. Now stop daydreaming and concentrate on the task in hand.’

Orodes was cutting the enemy cavalry to pieces. A kontus can go straight through a wooden shield with ease, and through leather armour as well, and after the initial impact the cataphracts would go to work with their swords and maces, while the enemy would not be able to pierce scale armour or steel leg and arm armour. I rode forward with my greatly diminished command before encountering Orodes himself, who joined me with an escort of a dozen men. He raised his left hand, a blood-smeared mace held in the other.

‘Most of them are dead, the rest have fled south.’

‘Your own casualties?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘Insignificant.’

‘Well done. Get your men back to the city, they’ve earned their pay today.’

As Orodes rode back to his men I journeyed across the battlefield to join the Pontic Legion that was now marching at right angles to the enemy’s camp. Dura’s legion was still locked in combat with the Mesenians, but it was obvious that the latter had failed in their efforts. And from the other flank Atrax, Nergal and their horse archers were attacking the Mesenians. Soon Chosroes’ men would be assaulted on both flanks as well as fighting the Duran Legion to their front.

Seeing the Pontic Legion approaching from the south, the Mesenians attempted to form a line on their left flank. To their credit there was still a semblance of order within their ranks, but their fate was sealed when the Pontic centuries smashed into them. Assaulted on two sides by legionaries and on another by horse archers, they were slowly being squeezed into a densely packed square, from which there was no escape when I led my own horse archers against its rear. Those equipped with shields turned to face us and formed a front rank, ramming the ends of their shafts into the hard earth and levelling their points at us, daring us to ride forward and impale ourselves on the long spears held at an angle of forty-five degrees. We did ride forward, but loosed our arrows at them and then turned our horses away before they could get to grips with us. We were few and they were many, but it did not matter because they were stationary and in ranks — easy targets for our missiles. But then, after hours standing under a hot sun, having failed in their bold attempt to break through our lines, and now assaulted on four sides, their will suddenly collapsed and the Mesenians suddenly turned into a mass of refugees. Unfortunately, the only route in which they could flee was in my direction.

The enemy mass seemed to dissolve as men started running towards us, thousands of them. Our only choice was to get out of their way — we could mop them up later. I gave the order to join Atrax’s men when a burning sensation engulfed my left leg. I looked down to see an arrow embedded in the flesh, and then an enemy soldier ran straight into Remus. He was obviously gripped by a wild panic, and in his desperation to escape the slaughter had been looking behind him when he hit a wall of horseflesh. He tumbled to the ground before scrambling back to his feet and continuing his flight, but Remus reared up on his back legs and I tumbled from the saddle and fell to the ground. He bolted away as I tried to get to my feet, but the pain in my leg made this difficult and I had been also badly winded by the fall. I drew my sword and used it as a crutch to haul myself to my feet. I felt nauseous and saw that there was now a large patch of blood on my leggings around the arrow wound. Enemy soldiers were fleeing in all directions but not all had lost their minds. To my front one approached me with his spear levelled and his shield covering the front of his body. I tried to limp out of his way but it was impossible to put any weight on my left leg. He leered in delight as he ran towards me with his spear, but suddenly pitched forward as he was shot in the back. I collapsed on the ground in great pain. Surena rode up, slipped his bow in its case and jumped from his saddle, kneeling by my side.

‘You must get on my horse, lord.’

I weakly pointed at two enemy soldiers advancing towards us with axes in their hands. Surena pulled his bow from its case and shot them both in quick succession. Yet more of the enemy, seeing Surena’s horse as a means of escape, bore down on us. Surena calmly shot at them until his quiver was empty. He threw down his bow and drew his sword.

‘Save yourself,’ I ordered, weakness engulfing my body, ‘get out of here.’

A man lunged at him with a spear but Surena deftly jumped aside, grabbed the shaft and ran his blade through the man’s body.

‘Can’t do that, lord. My grandfather would never forgive me.’

A Mesenian tried to split him in two as he held his sword above his head with both hands and brought it down with all of his strength. Surena blocked the blow with his own sword and thrust his dagger into the man’s guts, then stood over me as a ring of enemy soldiers formed around us like a pack of wolves. I thought I heard strange whooshing noises as I drifted into unconsciousness.

I awoke in my bed in the Citadel with Gallia sitting beside me holding Claudia. I felt the wonderful caress of my wife’s fingers on my cheek as I slowly came out of my deep slumber. Claudia smiled when I opened my eyes and I managed a faint smile back. She then crawled onto the bed and snuggled up to me and in that moment I experienced true happiness.

‘How long was I asleep?’

Gallia leaned over, kissed my lips and smiled, her long locks falling about my face.

‘A day and a half. Atrax and Surena carried you here and we have been watching over you ever since.’

I felt very weak but deliriously happy, surrounded as I was by my loved ones. There were no noises of battle, no stench of death, just a gentle breeze that ruffled the cotton nets hanging at the entrance to our balcony.

Alcaeus appeared by the side of the bed.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Weak,’ then I was aware of an aching sensation in my left leg. I noticed my bandaged left arm and then instinctively felt for my lower limb.

Alcaeus smiled when he saw my concerned look. ‘Don’t worry, you still have your leg. You were lucky, the arrow did not smash the bone, and once we had stopped the bleeding it was just a matter of sealing the wound and binding it tightly.’

‘I was worried that you might sleep forever,’ he continued, ‘but now we can all rest easy.’

I looked at Gallia. ‘The battle?’

She gripped my hand. ‘Was won, Pacorus, you have saved our city.’

‘Nearly got yourself killed in the process, though,’ Dobbai suddenly appeared at my bedside, a cup containing white liquid in her hand.

‘What is it?’ I asked, seeing Alcaeus’ disapproving look.

‘Poison, of course,’ replied Dobbai, ‘I thought I would achieve what Mithridates and Narses could not. Now drink it and stop whining.’

‘Remus,’ I said, ‘he bolted during the battle.’

‘He’s safe and being treated like a lord in the stables. Unlike you,’ replied Dobbai, ‘he hasn’t a scratch on him, so drink the liquid.’

Claudia had fallen asleep beside me as Dobbai handed the cup to Gallia, who held it to my lips. It tasted of nuts but had the texture of thick milk. Most strange.

‘The kings are still here,’ said Gallia. ‘They will be most relieved that you are recovering, as I am, my love.’

Dobbai took the cup and shuffled away. ‘I’ll fetch some more. It will soon get you back on your feet.’

‘I will decide when he gets back on his feet,’ insisted Alcaeus, to which Dobbai merely waved her hand dismissively at him and left the room.

‘You will have another scar,’ said Alcaeus, ‘and you may have a slight limp.’

‘Limp?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s too early to tell, but better that than having no leg at all.’

The rest of the day I spent slipping in and out of sleep with Gallia and Claudia beside me, interrupted only by Alcaeus applying a fresh dressing to my arm and leg and Dobbai giving me more of her concoction to drink. She would not tell me what was in it, only that it was frequently used by the people of the northern steppes as an aid to recovery. That night I slept like the dead and in the morning awoke to discover that my strength was indeed slowly returning, just as she had promised. Alcaeus scoffed at such nonsense but did accept that I looked healthier than the day before. I agreed that my father could visit me in my bedchamber, but no one else. I did not want anyone to see the King of Dura incapacitated. The height of vanity, perhaps, but the Romans had taught me that you should always project an image of strength to the world, never weakness.

‘So,’ my father stood at the entrance to our bedroom balcony, ‘how is the hero of the hour?’

‘Weak and helpless, if truth be told.’ A dozen well-stuffed pillows propped me up.

‘Your doctor told me that you should be up and about in no time. Curious fellow, treats royalty like something he’s scraped off his sandal.’

‘He’s Greek,’ I said. ‘They are a people who believe that everyone is more or less equal.’

‘Ah. I can see why he likes it here.’

‘You do not approve of my kingdom, father?’ It was the first time he had visited Dura.

He walked over and sat down in a bedside chair. ‘It has a certain rustic charm, I’ll grant you that. And that Roman of yours.’

‘Domitus?’

‘Yes, he has forged a fearsome weapon in his foot soldiers. He reminds me of Vistaspa. Uncompromising, like a rod of iron, but as for Gallia’s women…’

I was more interested in the battle that had taken place than discussing Dura’s army. ‘Was the fight on the other side of the river a hard one?’

My father stretched out his legs. He was dressed in a white baggy shirt and loose blue leggings and looked very relaxed. ‘Not at all. The Persien heavy cavalry put up a fight but Chosroes and his bodyguard scarpered after our first charge. The rest lost heart after that.’

‘Was Narses present?’

My father laughed. ‘No. He has better things to do than lay siege to Dura, I think, no offence meant.’

‘None taken.’

‘Anyway, the kings await your pleasure.’

‘I will see them all tomorrow,’ I replied.

My father stood and offered his hand. I took it. ‘Thank you, father, for your support.’

‘What sort of father would I be if I stood by and did nothing when my son was in danger?’

‘Is Haytham here?’

He nodded. ‘He’s here. One of his lords and Gotarzes have renewed their friendship.’

‘Who would have thought it,’ I said mischievously, ‘Parthian and Agraci making friends with each other?’

‘Who indeed, Pacorus, who indeed.’

The next day I felt well enough to get dressed and hobble to the throne room, where I received a succession of visitors. Gallia sat beside me and Dobbai hovered around, making unwelcome comments and taking delight in annoying people, mostly Alcaeus who insisted that I should not tire myself out. Already the armies of the kings were heading for home, my father’s horse archers having left the day before for Hatra, his cataphracts remaining with Vistaspa to escort their king home. I insisted that while they were in Dura all the standards of the kings should fly side-by-side from the ramparts of the Citadel, so that all may see our great alliance. So the griffin flew beside the white horse’s head, the bull of Babylon, the dragon of Media, the shahbaz of Atropaiene, the eagle of Susiana, and the four-pointed star of Elymais. I also insisted that the black standard of Haytham should be accorded a place among the banners, Gotarzes declaring that it should stand next to his own just as he had stood next to Haytham in battle.

‘Next to each other by the wine jug, more like,’ whispered my father.

Before the great feast to celebrate our victory, I had a private gathering of those whom I trusted the most to thank them for their conduct during the preceding weeks, especially Godarz, the man who had been in charge of the city during two sieges and whose calm demeanour had inspired confidence in everyone around him. That the city had not fallen was due in no small measure to him.

‘I had hoped that your time in Parthia would be one a peaceful one, Godarz,’ I said to him after we had all come together on the palace balcony.

‘Fate has a way of interfering with the best-laid plans of men, Pacorus, but hopefully now we will have no more bother.’

‘No more armies will come to Dura,’ announced Dobbai, who insisted that I drink another cup of her milky elixir. In truth I had come to like it and I had to admit that the pain had largely disappeared from my left leg.

‘But Dura’s wrath will soon be known to all. What do the minds of men know about anything?’

No one understood what she was talking about so they ignored her as she held Claudia’s hand and the two of them ambled around the balcony.

‘Well,’ said Orodes, ‘perhaps we can all look forward to a period of peace.’

‘Not while Narses and Mithridates still live,’ growled Domitus, who today was dressed in a plain grey tunic, sandals and black leather belt.

‘The Roman’s right about that,’ added Dobbai, who was smiling at Claudia as my daughter clutched her hand and squealed with delight. ‘They will be most aggrieved that you are not dead, son of Hatra.’

‘Let us not talk about those two,’ I said. ‘Let us instead talk about rewarding those who have shown themselves to be courageous.’

I gestured to one of the guards standing by the entrance to the balcony, who disappeared and then came back with Surena by his side. My former squire looked very different from the rebellious youth I had first encountered in Mesene’s marshlands. He had grown in stature and maturity. Today he was dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt, beige leggings and brown leather boots. He wore a black leather belt from which hung his spatha. He bowed to Gallia and me and stood to attention before us. He still had that self-assured air that bordered on cockiness, but over the past months he had proved himself to be a brave and resourceful soldier.

‘Well, Surena,’ I said, ‘you are to be rewarded for your valour in the recent battle, not least for saving my life. So, to repay my debt, what would you ask of me?’

‘To be an officer in your cataphracts, lord.’

It was a reasonable request. He was well liked among the men and I believed that he would be able to win the respect of the hundred men in the company under him. He was young, it was true, but age should never be a barrier to talent.

‘What is your opinion, Nergal,’ I said, ‘do you think Surena would make a good officer?’

Nergal was sitting next to Praxima on a couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

‘He’s a little headstrong, sometimes has difficulties obeying orders, but I think some responsibility will do him good.’

‘So do I,’ I added. ‘Your request is granted. Well done.’

Surena beamed with delight. ‘Thank you, lord. I will not let you down.’

I waved him away but he still stood there, something obviously on his mind.

‘Is there anything else?’

For once Surena was hesitant. He looked at Gallia, who frowned at him. ‘I would like to ask the queen something.’

She regarded him coolly. ‘Spit it out, then.’

‘I would like to ask your permission to marry Viper.’

Domitus rolled his eyes and Praxima laughed. Godarz shook his head while Nergal nodded approvingly.

‘To ask for the hand of an Amazon is no small thing,’ replied Gallia.

‘I realise that, majesty.’ Surena was certainly trying his best to please her.

‘I wish to know what Viper has to say about this,’ said Gallia.

‘Is that really necessary?’ I asked, my question being met by a steely blue-eyed stare. ‘Very well, very well. Guard, go and fetch Viper.’

He bowed and left. I just hoped that the Amazons were not on the training fields otherwise we could be here for hours. Surena stood like a statue, staring ahead.

‘Sit down, Surena,’ I told him, ‘you are making me feel uncomfortable.’

He perched on the end of a chair. Now he looked like a sitting statue.

‘Good job he’s not as nervous as this in battle,’ remarked Domitus, ‘otherwise Pacorus would be having his bones picked clean by buzzards by now.’

Some ten minutes later Viper arrived, with short-cut hair and her shirt clinging to her girlish figure. It was hard to believe that she was one of my wife’s most accomplished killers. I had to admit that she had a certain beauty. Her skin was flawless and she had large brown eyes with a small nose and chin. Surena stood up when she entered and stood by her side, Viper smiling at him.

‘Viper,’ snapped Gallia. ‘You know that I love you and the Amazons like sisters.’

‘Yes, majesty,’ even Viper’s voice was like that of a young girl.

‘And you know that you will always have a home here, at Dura.’

Viper smiled at Gallia and nodded. I began to see why Surena was so attracted to her. She was certainly disarming.

‘Marriage is a union of equals,’ continued Gallia, ‘not the possession of a woman by a man. You must not feel that you are being coerced into anything.’

‘I would never…’ protested Surena.

‘Silence!’ barked Gallia.

‘We love each other, majesty, we truly do,’ said Viper.

Gallia sighed and then walked over to Viper and embraced her. ‘Then you have my blessing. May you both be happy.’

She waved them away. They both bowed and then left us, arms round each other and their laughter filling the air. Later, when we were alone, I asked Gallia why she had been so opposed to their union.

‘I was being selfish, I suppose. This will be the beginning.’

‘The beginning?’

‘Viper’s marriage will be like a small stone that starts a rockslide. Soon more of the Amazons will wish to marry.’ She suddenly looked sad. ‘I suppose that I wanted things to stand still, that is all. Time moves on relentlessly and I sometimes think … it doesn’t matter.’

I pulled her close. ‘Alas, my love, only the gods have the power to make time stand still. But you must admit that Surena and Viper are happy. And I think he will make a good husband.’

She kissed me on the cheek. ‘You are probably right.’

Another group of individuals who were also happy were the Roman engineers that we had captured the previous year. At first they had been confined to a large house in the west of the city that had belonged to one of Mithridates’ cronies during his brief reign in the city. They had been placed under guard and their siege engines had been placed in a secure warehouse on the other side of the city as a precaution against them being sabotaged by their former owners. At first the Romans were surly and uncooperative, but after a few weeks, when it became clear that they were not going to be abused or sold into slavery, their attitude slowly improved. Domitus and Godarz visited them frequently and gained their trust, and after a while they were permitted to leave their lodgings and venture into the city. During my time away in Gordyene they had frequently dined with Godarz in his house, talking about Rome and Italy no doubt, and gradually they came to accept their situation more readily. As the months passed their guards were reduced and then removed altogether and they were even allowed outside the city. During the recent siege they had worked their engines to destroy the Mesenian siege towers that had assaulted Dura. This had turned them into heroes in the city, and afterwards they had been deluged with invitations to banquets and had been sent many gifts from a grateful populace.

A week after all the kings had departed I went to see them. They now came and went as they chose, and because they were not part of the army their time was largely their own. The first thing I noticed when I walked down to their accommodation with Domitus was how they had all put on a few pounds in weight, more than a few pounds in some cases. Their leader was a man named Marcus Sutonius, the same individual I had spoken to directly after the defeat of Lucius Furius all those months ago. Then he had been lean and surly, today he was stockier and much more agreeable. The rest of his men gathered behind him as I spoke to them in the courtyard that fronted their living quarters. Their home was surrounded by a high wall with a large gate directly opposite the house’s main entrance, with its stables and store rooms along the walls either side of the courtyard. Its security had made it an ideal prison, but now the gate was open and there were no guards. I stood next to the fountain that was in the middle of the courtyard.

‘I wanted to thank you all for your help during the recent siege,’ I said.

‘Just doing our job, sir,’ replied Marcus. ‘Lucky you had that Eastern liquid. We just poured it in some clay pots, sealed them and tied rags doused in pitch round the tops, which we then lit. When they shattered it burned nicely. No wonder you keep it under lock and key.’

‘Indeed. Well, your actions helped to save the city and my daughter, so I have come to tell you that you are all free to leave Dura. I had desired that you aid me in another venture, but in all conscience I cannot hold you here any longer after what you have all done.’

Marcus turned and looked at his men, who all seemed remarkably underwhelmed that they were now free men. One or two looked almost distraught. Marcus cleared his throat.

‘Thank you for your kindness, sir, but the fact is that me and the lads, well, we wouldn’t mind staying around for a while longer if you have a use for us. Like you said.’

There were murmurs of agreement behind him and his men were nodding to each other. Clearly their pleasant confinement at Dura was more agreeable than service in the Roman army.

I looked at Domitus, whose face betrayed no emotion.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘your offer is gladly accepted. Your services will be indispensible for the coming campaign, so I thank you.’

‘Thank you, sir, we won’t let you down,’ replied Marcus.

Afterwards, as we were walking back to the Citadel, Domitus questioned me.

‘The first I’ve heard of any campaign.’

‘That’s because it is the first time that I have mentioned it.’

I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was unhappy. ‘If you are planning a war you should have told me and you should also have persuaded the kings to stay at Dura.’

‘We do not need them, Domitus. What I have in mind will not take long and Dura’s army will be more than sufficient.’

He was still far from happy. ‘May I ask the nature of this new campaign?’

I smiled. ‘All will be revealed at the meeting of the war council.’