Parthian Dawn

Chapter 21

The dawn came soon enough, an orange glow in the east that illuminated the white walls of Uruk in a ghostly glow. I smiled to myself — the last day that it would know peace under its present king. Marcus and his men had risen early and were already assembling their siege engines, watched by a curious Domitus. I ambled over to him as he munched on a handful of biscuits and sipped from his water bottle. I could tell that he was fascinated.

There were six of the giant ballista, each one weighing several tons, being three times the height of a man and around thirty feet long. The ballista works like a bow, with a strong wooden frame holding two skeins of animal sinew in place vertically. Two horizontal wooden arms pass through each skein and are linked by a strong bowstring. As the arms are pulled back the sinews become twisted to create a great tension for propelling a missile forward, the latter resting in a groove in the horizontal stock of the ballista. The bowstring is pulled back using winches and held in place by a rotating trigger.

Marcus was bellowing orders at his men, ten of them working on each large machine. And on either side of these were smaller ballistae, which could throw a metal-headed bolt, solid metal balls and stones over great distances. A team of two men worked these smaller machines, similar to the scorpions I had encountered in Italy. Marcus had ensured that his men and their machines were out of range of the archers who were now lining the walls facing us. When he saw us both he stopped shouting and sauntered over.

‘Morning! We shall soon be ready.’

Domitus nodded towards the machines. ‘You think they will be up to the task?’

‘Oh yes, they are the latest in military technology,’ replied Marcus. ‘Crassus had them made specially to knock down….’ He stopped and looked sheepishly at me.

‘To knock down Dura’s walls,’ I continued for him. ‘It is quite all right, Marcus, you are a soldier who was obeying orders, a professional. You have nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘he had these specialists brought over from Greece and they built the big ballistae and then trained us to use them. It took half a year to get us ready. This is the first time the big ones have been used in anger.’

‘They were not used at Dura?’ I asked.

Marcus shook his head. ‘The army’s commander wanted to take the city by storm, thought my machines were a waste of time. I pleaded with him but he would not have it. We did some damage with the smaller ballista, and after he was repulsed from the walls he said he would think about employing the big ones. But then your army arrived and, well, he had other things to think about.’

‘Indeed,’ I said.

‘How long will it take before they are ready?’ asked Domitus.

‘About two hours.’ Marcus rubbed his hands. ‘After that we’ll soon have a nice fire going.’

‘Fire?’ I asked.

‘Oh, yes, we will be shooting half and half.’

Domitus looked at him. ‘Half and half?’

Marcus looked at us as though what he had said was the most straightforward thing in the world. ‘Half stone and iron shot and half incendiaries. Anyway, I best get back to make sure they are assembled right. If you will excuse me?’

Marcus saluted and strode back to his machines. More wagons began to arrive carrying the ammunition for them, great round stones, smaller stones, iron balls, clay pots and bolts. The pots would be filled with naphtha and then sealed, with a burning, oil-soaked rag wrapped around the top. Upon impact the pot would smash and the flaming rag would ignite the naphtha.

The walls were lined with many soldiers now — so much for Yasser’s claim that Chosroes had no more troops — observing Marcus and his men going about their business. The latter were beyond the range of the Mesenian bows and the soldiers of Uruk would have never seen Roman siege engines in action before, so they just stood and watched, thinking themselves safe behind their big gates and high walls. Behind the siege engines the Duran Legion began forming up in its cohorts. They were widely spaced so that they extended towards the river. Next in line, to the right of the legion, came the Amazons and Dura’s cataphracts commanded by Orodes, with his own men on the extreme right of the heavy cavalry’s line. Nergal’s horse archers then formed a great line that extended north to run parallel to Uruk’s eastern wall. On the northern side of the city were deployed the Exiles in their cohorts and centuries. Thus was Dura’s army arrayed for the garrison of the city to see.

True to my word, and while Marcus readied his machines, I tied a white cloth on the end of a kontus and rode towards the city gates to ask for a parley. I had not ridden fifty paces beyond the siege engines when two arrows were shot in my direction from the walls. Fortunately they both fell short. I wheeled Remus around, walked him out of range and then faced the gates once more. I untied the white cloth from the lance and spat in the direction of the city. The time for talking was over.

I purposely rode over to where Orodes was sitting in his scale armour at the head of the bored cataphracts.

‘They would rather fight than see reason, lord prince.’

He nodded solemnly. ‘You have done all that honour demands, lord.’

I bowed my head to him and rode back to the engines, the cataphracts jeering and whistling at those on the walls.

‘That was rather foolhardy,’ said Domitus.

‘I have fulfilled my promise to Orodes. How is Marcus progressing?’

‘They will be ready in about half an hour. I hope you are not going to keep the men standing for hours in this sun.’

I looked into the clear blue sky. It was going to be another hot day. Most of the horsemen had already taken off their helmets or had pushed them back on their heads. The horses were swishing their tails to keep the flies away. Then I heard a noise coming from the walls and saw the Mesenians jeering and throwing insults. Some jumped on to the wall itself and lifted their robes to expose their genitals. I glanced at Gallia and her Amazons who were sitting emotionless on their horses, their faces enclosed by the cheekguards of their helmets. The other horsemen and the legionaries did not respond to the taunts but remained standing in their ranks in silence.

I dismounted and stood beside Domitus as the taunts and insults were flung in our direction. Gallia rode up on Epona.

‘What are we waiting for? Are we going to sit here all day while they ridicule us?’

‘We are waiting for the engineers to ensure that everything is in place.’ I cocked my head at the walls. ‘Are they upsetting your girls?’

She took off her helmet, her hair plaited behind her neck. ‘Nothing they have not heard before. But they may be frightening your cataphracts. Or perhaps your legionaries, Domitus?’

‘Don’t worry, Gallia, when the city falls I will get some of the boys to slice off the balls of those on the walls and present them on a silver tray to your girls.’

She frowned. ‘You are all heart, Domitus.’

At that moment Marcus sauntered up, looking very pleased with himself. He bowed his head to Gallia and raised his hand to Domitus and me.

‘All is ready, sir.’

‘Excellent,’ I said, ‘please begin.’

Marcus looked at Gallia and then at me. ‘Actually, sir, I was wondering if the queen would bless the first shot, for luck you see.’

I looked at Gallia. ‘Well?’

She smiled at him. ‘I would be delighted, Marcus.’

She dismounted and handed me Epona’s reins. ‘Make yourself useful.’

I led Remus and Epona after Gallia and Marcus as they walked over to one of the machines; one of the giant ballistae that fired stones. A member of its crew lifted up one of the large missiles stacked in a great pile behind the machine and stood holding it. It was obviously heavy as he was straining from the effort.

‘If you would lay a hand on it, lady,’ said Marcus, ‘then we can begin.’

Gallia, clearly delighted, placed her palm on the stone. The crew cheered and then the stone was placed on the wooden channel from which it would be launched. Marcus raised his hand, lowered it and the ballista was fired. The stone shot through the air and slammed into the gates with a loud crunch. And then the other machines opened fire.

Large stones and pots filled with naphtha flew through the air and smashed into the gates, shaking them and then covering them in flames as the clay pots burst and the naphtha ignited. The missiles of the smaller ballista — stones and iron bolts — were directed at the walls and towers that flanked the gates; the stones striking the torsos and skulls of those lining the walls. The crews worked like frenzied ants, loading and reloading their contraptions and sending a hail of stone, fire and metal at the enemy. Marcus had sited his machines well. They did not shoot haphazardly but were directed against where the two gates met and against the walls where their hinges were located. I did not know how old those gates were, but they appeared ancient and would not withstand such an onslaught for long.

The crews sweated and cursed as they loaded the missiles and then loosed them at the gates and the walls. Great gaps began to appear in the latter as chunks of brickwork were ripped out. The gates themselves shuddered every time they were hit and the flames continued to eat away at the ancient wood. I and thousands of others looked on in awe at the devastation that was being unleashed upon Uruk. There was no one on the walls now, no jeering soldiers, only the dead and the dying. The rest had fled for their lives. Then the cheering began, a great wall of noise coming from behind me as the Duran Legion raised their javelins and began beating them against their shields. The men chanted ‘Dura, Dura’ as the city’s defences were pounded without mercy in front of them. Then the horsemen joined in, raising their weapons and shouting the name of their own city. I hoped that Chosroes, wherever the miserable wretch was cowering, could hear the voices of those who had come to repay him for his treachery.

The hail of iron and stone continued. One or more of the naphtha pots must have got wedged in the arch above the gates, because suddenly there was a loud crack and then that part of the wall erupted in flame and caused a great part of it to come crashing down on top of the gates. Marcus immediately ordered his men to halt firing their machines and came running over to me.

‘The wall’s collapsing around the gates, see there,’ he pointed at the gap where the bricks had fallen to the ground. ‘I will direct the missiles above the gates, we can chip away until the whole lot comes down.’

‘How long?’ I asked.

He looked back at the torn section of wall and the smashed and burning gates. ‘Two hours, I’d say.’

I slapped Marcus on the arm. ‘You are truly a craftsman. Two hours will do fine.’

Marcus smiled and ran back to his machines to reposition them.

‘Domitus, send a rider to the Exiles to bring them here to the southern gates.’

He saluted and called over a courier. I gave the order for the horsemen to stand down except for the scouts that were carrying out reconnaissance, and I also ordered that the legion stand down, the men taking off their helmets and lying on the ground, leaving only a cohort to guard Marcus and his men. Then I called a council of war.

‘The gates will soon be breached,’ I said, ‘and when they come down we will storm the city. This day Chosroes will rule in Uruk no more.’

‘When we go in,’ said Domitus, ‘most likely there will be a reception party waiting for us, archers and slingers, no doubt. Casualties might be heavy in the first wave.’

‘I will instruct Marcus to keep sweeping the walls with his ballista,’ I said.

‘Just make sure they don’t start shooting wild. I don’t want my men cut down from behind,’ added Domitus

‘What about my horsemen?’ asked Nergal.

‘They won’t be able to ride over the rubble,’ I replied. ‘In any case there will be columns of legionaries going into the city so you and your men will have to sit and watch, I’m afraid.’

‘We could fight on foot to support Domitus and his men,’ he suggested.

‘Not a bad idea,’ remarked Domitus, ‘archers are always useful to have around.’

‘Very well,’ I said, ‘Nergal, dismount half your men to support the attack. But they are to go into the city behind the first cohort. We don’t know how many enemy soldiers we are facing yet.’

‘Not many,’ mused Orodes. ‘Chosroes lost thousands at Dura and I doubt he has enough men to man his defences fully.’

‘Perhaps,’ I said, ‘but your saw the number on the walls. In any case cornered men often find a courage born of desperation. I don’t want to give them any easy victories. If I am killed then Gallia will command the army.’

They all looked at each other in surprise.

‘Why should you be killed?’ asked Gallia.

‘Because I shall be leading the cohort that storms the city.’

They tried to dissuade me but my mind was made up. I had brought the army to this place. It was my decision to storm Uruk and it was therefore only proper that I should be in the first formation that broke into the city. I dismissed the council and afterwards, when we were alone, I held Gallia close.

‘You understand why I have to do this, don’t you?’

Her eyes were filling with tears. ‘Not really.’

‘I cannot sit on my horse and watch other men go where I should be. There is no honour in that.’

‘Who cares about honour? Honour will get you killed.’

I kissed her on the lips. ‘I care about honour. I must do this, Gallia.’

She stepped back and wiped her tears away with her sleeve, then composed herself.

‘Go then, and may the gods protect you.’

She turned and left me without looking back. I followed her outside where Praxima was waiting on her horse holding Epona’s reins. Gallia vaulted into the saddle, placed her helmet on her head and rode away back to her Amazons without giving me a second glance. Orodes was at my side as I walked out of the camp towards where the cohort was forming up to storm the gates. Marcus’ machines were still pounding the gates and the surrounding masonry, which was now full of gaping holes.

‘Are you sure about this, Pacorus?’

I smiled at him. ‘Quite sure. Can I ask you a favour?’

‘Anything, my friend.’

I laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘If I fall, please take care of Gallia and my daughter. It would comfort me to know they will be in your safekeeping.’

He looked extremely solemn. ‘On my life, Pacorus, I shall do as you ask.’

‘Good. Now I must ask you to take charge of the cataphracts once more. If the enemy proves to be stronger than we thought we might be pushed back, in which case we will be looking to you and your horsemen to save us.’

It was unlikely that we would be pushed out of the city, but it focused Orodes’ mind and stopped him from offering to stand beside me in the cohort, which I knew was going through his mind. We shook hands and he left me to go his cavalry. I walked over to where Domitus was organising his men. The first century, ten men in the front rank and seven ranks behind them, stood at the head of the cohort of five centuries formed into a column. The front five ranks had no javelins — they would go in armed only with the gladius. In front of us stone and iron continued to smash the enemy gates and brickwork. I stood beside the legionary on the end of the front rank, on the right. Domitus stopped issuing orders and stomped over to where I was standing.

‘What are you doing?’

‘As I said, Domitus, I will be accompanying your men during the attack.’

He looked me and shook his head. ‘First of all, I command this cohort, so you do as I say. So take that helmet and cuirass off and we will find you a pot like the men wear and a mail shirt. And take that cavalry sword off, it will be bloody useless when we go in.’

I was going to protest but Domitus was wearing that iron-hard visage that struck terror into friend and foe alike, so I took off my helmet, cuirass and unbuckled my sword belt. An orderly took them away and a member of the commissary brought me my new fighting gear — mail shirt, shield, belt, gladius and scabbard and felt-lined helmet.

‘That’s better,’ said Domitus, ‘any enemy archer worth his salt would have seen your fancy helmet with its feathers and your expensive armour and would have dropped you first. Now you stand as much chance as any of us staying alive, which isn’t much.’

The legionaries around us started laughing at their commander’s black humour. Domitus bundled me to the centre of the formation and pointed at two of the men in the front rank, who saluted and made their way to the rear of the century. Domitus pushed me into one of the vacated places and then put himself on my right in the second spot. I drew the gladius and jabbed it forward.

‘Know how to use one of them?’ asked Domitus.

‘I think I can manage.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘we are about to find out.’

At that moment there was a great crashing sound as the masonry above the gates collapsed on to them and caused them to fracture and then collapse onto the ground. There was a great cloud of dust, which cleared slowly to reveal a yawning gap where the gates had once been standing. The defences of Uruk had been breached.

Domitus raised his sword. ‘Advance!’

As one we marched forward towards the great pile of smashed wood and rubble standing four hundred paces away. The smaller ballista continued to shoot at the walls but the larger engines had ceased their barrage. We quickened our pace, breaking into a trot and then a run as we neared the rubble. The men maintained their formation, battling the urge to sprint ahead. Then we were at the rubble, which forced us to slow our pace as we scrambled up and over the smashed bricks and shattered and smouldering wood. Dust still hanging in the air caused us to cough and spit and got in our eyes as we scrambled down the other side of the debris and saw a great mass of the enemy coming towards us — spearmen with large oblong shields in a long line, and behind them I could see the sun glinting off more spear points.

‘Don’t stop, straight into them!’ screamed Domitus as he charged towards the enemy. The men gave a great cheer and followed him. My heart was pounding in my chest as I held the shield in front of me and ran at the enemy. Arrows hissed through the air and felled some of our men, but not enough to halt the momentum of our charge. I screamed my war cry as our rear ranks threw their javelins and I ran at a man who had his spear pointed at my chest. I barged the point away from me using the metal boss on my shield and then rammed my gladius over the top rim of the shield into his face. The sword point went through his mouth and out through the back of his neck. I shoved him back into the man behind, who staggered back. I lunged forward and thrust the gladius through his wicker shield and into his arm. I jerked back the blade and stabbed it into his thigh, then thrust it again, this time into his belly. I charged on, treading on men slain by javelins, smashing my shield boss into a man’s face and then driving the point of my gladius upwards into his guts. I was elated. I screamed and with all my strength pushed the entire blade into his body up to the handle. I could not extract it! I pulled and yanked but it was stuck fast! Out of the corner of my eye I saw an axe blade coming at me. I parried the blow with my shield and Domitus severed the hand that was holding it with one blow. I finally freed my blade, which was now covered in blood.

‘Stop being a hero and concentrate,’ shouted Domitus, bloodlust in his eyes.

On we went, stabbing at enemy bellies, thighs and groins. Around us more and more centuries were pouring into the city and forming into line, then charging the enemy ranks, which were being pushed back. We stepped on and over the bodies of the enemy dead and dying as we pushed them back away from the gates. Some were running now. Others were trying to give themselves up. One man threw away his sword and fell to his knees, clasping his hands in front of him as a sign of surrender, but just as at Surkh Domitus thrust his sword into the man’s chest and then kicked his body to the ground with his right foot. On we went. Suddenly a hail of javelins flew over our heads and hit the thinning ranks of the enemy, felling dozens. Trumpets sounded. We halted and reformed our ranks and charged once more. We were killing boys and old men now, the dregs of Chosroes’ army, but we killed them anyway. There was no mercy in Uruk this day.

The threadbare ranks of the enemy fell back. Now Nergal’s dismounted archers came forward and poured volley after volley into them as all around me men were suddenly gripped with a raging thirst and drank greedily from their water bottles. Domitus, his tunic and mail shirt splattered with enemy blood, shared his bottle with me as other legionaries brought full bottles forward for the men and took away empty ones to be refilled. The ground in front and behind us was covered with enemy dead. How many more Mesenians were there?

‘Thirsty work,’ said Domitus. He slapped me on the arm. ‘Not a scratch on you. Well done.’

‘Well done to you, my friend.’

Behind us the rest of the Duran Legion was filing into the city and forming up, followed by the Exiles.

Uruk is divided into four main areas, the palace quarter, the temple quarter, the royal gardens, called the Royal Orchard, and the working quarter. The latter is located in the southern part of the city, a vast collection of mud-brick homes and businesses not unlike those found in Dura, Hatra and a host of other towns and cities throughout the empire. These were now ransacked as the army moved through the city. The Exiles and the Duran Legion maintained their discipline and formation as they marched through the streets, searching for enemy soldiers. But after them came the Ma’adan led by Surena and they were looking for vengeance. They smashed anything that could be broken and killed any unfortunate enough to cross their path. Marcus and his men cleared away the rubble from the smashed gates to allow horsemen to enter the city. Nergal ordered his dismounted archers to get on the walls and in the towers to prevent any enemy archers or slingers shooting at us, but he and his men found no one on the walls. They had all fled to the north of the city. At the northern end of the working quarter I called a halt and retrieved my armour, helmet and sword, handing back my legionary’s kit that had served me so well. The legionaries took the opportunity to sit or lie on the ground as Nergal formed a screen of horse archers in front of the army and the Amazons joined me. Behind us I could hear screams and shouts as the Ma’adan slaughtered those who had failed to find refuge in the temple compound or the palace.

‘Are you going to do something about that?’ asked Gallia, gesturing with her arm to where houses burned and innocents were dying.

‘Not until the city has fallen.’ I replied curtly.

Orodes rode up at the head of the cataphracts.

‘The people are being slaughtered, Pacorus,’ he said.

‘You must do something,’ said Gallia.

Half the city had fallen but there was still some fighting left to do. Still, I had enough foot soldiers to do the task.

I pointed at Gallia and then Orodes. ‘Very well, take the Amazons and the heavy cavalry and stop the Ma’adan in their slaughter, but do not kill them, however tempting it may be. We need those people.’

Orodes raised his hand and wheeled away. Gallia was about to do the same when I called after her.

‘And Gallia.’

‘Yes?’

‘Do not kill Surena, that’s an order. I need him too.’

I heard no reply as she galloped away. A wide canal bisects Uruk, separating the homes of the citizens and the city’s businesses from the royal quarter and the great White Temple that was on my left as I looked across the canal. Several bridges spanned the waterway, the widest of which stood directly in front of us; white stone viper statues sat on pedestals either side of it. These were the only guardians to the last bastions of Chosroes’ kingdom.

‘We had better get across the bridges before they decide to make a stand,’ said Domitus, who had walked over to where I was sitting on Remus.

‘Very well. The Exiles are to take the temple and the Durans are to assault the palace.’

He saluted and ran back to his officers. After a short conference the first centuries sprinted across the bridges and formed up on the opposite bank. Dismounted horse archers stood on the edge of the canal to provide covering fire should it be needed. It was not; there was no sign of the enemy. I trotted over the bridge and joined the foremost centuries, which were now forming into great columns ready to advance against the temple and palace. I made my way to the head of the Durans and we began to move through the royal gardens; a great expanse of date palms, fountains, orchards and flowerbeds. Nergal joined me on his horse, a host of horse archers behind him.

‘We will scout ahead,’ I said, ‘bring your men.’

The Royal Orchard was not only a place of flowers, trees and watercourses, it was also a large park used for hunting. It covered many acres and contained an abundance of wild animals, such as deer, antelope, onager, boar, bulls and panthers. The noise of thousands of hobnailed sandals would have frightened away any wildlife nearby, but I passed the word for the men to take care and watch the trees for any panthers that might be in the branches, ready to pounce.

In the centre of the royal gardens was a large pool with a temple on a small island in its centre. This was a shrine to the goddess Anahita, the goddess of all waters, war, love and fertility. I gave orders that no one was to desecrate this temple surrounded by stone columns plated in silver. Anahita had been good to Gallia during the birth of our daughter and I had no wish to offend Her. We moved past other rectangular pools that had steps leading into their waters, and around the edges were terraces filled with water plants. The waters themselves were teeming with brightly coloured fish, with ducks swimming on the surface. Around the ponds were acres of trees — date palms, doum palms, sycamores and fig trees — planted in straight lines. The Royal Orchard was truly a sanctuary of peace and beauty, and I said a silent prayer to Shamash, asking for His forgiveness for marching an army through its sacred avenues.

I urged Remus forward and we rode through the gardens towards the palace. Nergal’s men filled the trees, bows at the ready, looking for any enemy soldiers that might be in the foliage. We emerged from rows of ancient cypress trees to reach the mud-brick palace walls covered in plaster that had been painted white. There was a well-tended cobbled road that led from the gardens to the palace gates, which were shut. Arrows flew at us from archers standing on the walls either side of the gates.

‘Back into the trees,’ I yelled.

There was no point in sitting on our horses shooting at men standing behind a wall, so we retreated back to the trees and there waited for Domitus and his men to arrive. I ordered a rider to fetch Marcus and to tell him to bring a means of breaching the gates. Some of the dismounted men were standing at the edge of the trees, losing their arrows at the enemy but I ordered them to desist. There was no point in wasting arrows. I too dismounted and walked to the last row of trees to look at the palace, rising up behind the walls; a great whitewashed two-storey stone building with a wide frontage. It appeared to be set back some distance from the walls that protected it, no doubt with a great square before it. No doubt the square where Narses and Chosroes had planned to put me to death.

Byrd and Malik appeared and informed me that there was another set of gates into the royal compound on the other side of the palace.

‘They too are guarded,’ reported Byrd.

‘Will you storm the palace, Pacorus?’ asked Malik.

‘Yes,’ I replied.

Domitus arrived a few minutes later, his men halting among the trees. Guards were posted and the rest took off their helmets, stacked their shields and then lay in the shade. Domitus joined us as we studied the palace walls.

‘I have ordered Marcus to bring some of his engines so we can gain entry via the gates,’ I said.

‘How many men are on those walls?’ asked Domitus.

‘Hard to tell,’ I replied, ‘but they are the palace guard and they will put up a fight.’

Domitus took off his helmet and wiped his brow. ‘It doesn’t matter, we’ll kill them easily enough.’

It took Marcus an hour to arrive with the means to get into the palace, a great battering ram that was loaded on to half a dozen wagons. It took him and his men another hour to assemble it, during which time there was no activity on the walls. A strange silence descended over the area as the Duran Legion rested and Marcus and his men assembled the battering ram. I asked Byrd and Malik to ride over to the western side of the city and report back on what was happening at the White Temple, and they took all the Agraci warriors as an escort just in case there were any roving bands of enemy soldiers still at large. I prayed to Shamash that Gallia and her Amazons were safe.

The battering ram was truly a wondrous thing, a huge tree trunk suspended by chains from a thick overhead beam that formed the top of its arched frame. The beam and the ram itself were under protective screens laid over the frame, the screens being composed of wooden boards overlaid with iron plates with clay underneath and then an inner layer of thick hide. No enemy arrow would be able to pierce that thick roof of iron, while the clay formed a fireproof barrier. The whole ram was mounted on four great wooden wheels so it could be pushed forwards and backwards. The ram itself had rope handles at regular intervals along its length. This was to enable those manning it each side to pull it back and then hurl it forward against the target. And on the point was a massive iron head cast in the shape of a snarling ram, complete with horns.

‘I like your ram, Marcus,’ I said, stroking the massive iron head.

‘Yes, sir, it cost Crassus a great deal of money.’

I smiled. ‘I have no doubt. He is a man who likes quality in all things.’

A mischievous grin spread across Domitus’ face. ‘Tell him what your men have nicknamed it, Marcus.’

Marcus cleared his throat and looked sheepish. ‘I don’t think the king would be interested in such trivial gossip.’

‘Nonsense,’ replied Domitus.

‘Yes,’ I added, ‘please tell, Marcus.’ I looked at the snarling image; they probably called it Crassus. I smiled to myself.

‘Pacorus, sir, begging your pardon.’

‘What?’ I said.

Marcus avoided my eyes. ‘They nicknamed it Pacorus.’

Domitus and Nergal thought it hilarious.

‘It looks like you,’ said Domitus.

‘The mirror image,’ added Nergal, creasing up with laughter.

Marcus was blushing while my two senior commanders were giggling like young girls. I decided to maintain my dignity. I laid a hand on Marcus’ shoulder.

‘It is quite all right. When these two have finished with their childishness we will put my namesake to work.’

The smaller ballista had also been loaded on to carts and driven to the royal gardens where they were re-assembled by their crews. Once in position they began sweeping the walls with bolts and iron balls, just as they had done before the city gates. After a few enemy heads had been caved in, the palace walls were soon empty of archers, allowing the ram to be pushed forward. I insisted on being a member of the party that grabbed the beams inside the ram’s protective cover and hauled it forward. Domitus and a century of his men followed immediately behind the ram, the legionaries’ shields held above them and on their sides as a defence against enemy missiles.

There were twenty of us pushing the ram, including Marcus, and even with all our efforts it was slow to move so heavy a beast. I began sweating heavily as I pushed on one of the beams, the iron-headed ram swaying slightly with every forward effort. Iron plates mounted at the front of the ram provided additional protection for those manning it, but also added more weight to the machine. Marcus coordinated our efforts, telling us when to push forward, but it was painfully slow progress. I heard the crack of the ballista balls and bolts hitting the walls, though the sounds gradually died away, presumably because there were no targets to aim at. Occasionally there was a dull thud on the ram’s roof as an enemy archer diced with death and shot at us, followed by more cracks as ballista missiles flew at him and struck the walls.

Domitus was directly behind the ram and delighted in making fun of our efforts.

‘Come on, push it. We want to get into the palace before dark. Perhaps I should knock on the gates and ask to be let in.’

We had no energy to reply, all our strength being used to push the ram forward. My heart was pounding in my chest and sweat ran into my eyes as I heaved it forward. The others, veins bulging in their muscled arms, groaned as they threw their weight behind each effort, with the voice of Marcus constantly in our ears.

‘Heave; heave; heave.’

Then, finally, we were at the gates. We shoved the ram’s roof right up against the gates just in case the enemy above decided to throw rocks or burning oil down upon us. Each man grabbed one of the rope handles that had been nailed to the trunk and pulled it backwards, then on Marcus’ command we hurled it forward. The great iron head smashed into the gates, splintering the wood. Again we pulled it back and then sent it hurtling into the gates once more. More cracking and splintering as the ram’s head fractured the gates and wrenched them from their hinges, forcing them back. Again and again we propelled the iron head into the wood until one of the gates lay twisted on the ground and the other had been smashed in two.

‘Grab the ram, pull it back,’ shouted Domitus to the men behind him as he picked up one of the ropes fastened to the rear of the ram for just such a purpose. Then we were pushing the ram back so it no longer blocked the broken gates. Domitus drew his sword and ran past the battering ram and through broken gates into the palace grounds, his men following. They barely had time to form a wall of shields before being attacked by Chosroes’ palace guards.

These men were well armed and no doubt knew their craft. They wore bronze helmets, red tunics covered with bronze scales and carried large round shields that had bronze facings sporting a black viper motif. They were armed with spears that had leaf-shaped blades, which they used to thrust at the legionaries, keeping the shields tucked tightly into their left sides. They advanced in a compact line with several ranks behind, not charging wildly but moving as a disciplined body. Their front rank tried to thrust their spears into the bellies of my men, jabbing the points forward. Our line of shields held in the press but my men could not make any headway against them. Worse, they were actually being forced back towards the gates and the walls. Domitus and his legionaries tried to thrust their swords over the top rim of their shields, into the faces and necks of their opponents, but the enemy’s spears kept them out of reach. More legionaries were flooding into the palace, but this only resulted in a great crush of men in and around the gates as the palace guards began herding the legionaries back. I was going to order a retreat when I saw archers on the walls. For a moment a feeling of nausea swept through me, believing them to be Chosroes’ men. But then I realised that they were Nergal’s archers. He had ordered his men to ride up to the walls, stand on their saddles and then haul themselves up onto the walls. The latter were no more than twice the height of a man so it was easy enough. Those who reached the top of the walls first then hoisted up the others, until there were dozens of archers either side of the gates. They then began pouring a withering fire into the enemy ranks, their arrows striking faces and necks.

The advance of the palace guards faltered and then stopped as they were hit by the arrow storm, men instinctively raising their shields to deflect the missiles being shot at them from the walls. But in doing so they lost the initiative, and a blast of trumpets preceded a charge by the Durans. The front ranks rushed forward into the now stationary palace guards and hacked their first line to pieces. Nergal’s archers were shooting arrows like men possessed until their quivers were empty, but their efforts were enough to tip the scales of the bloody melee below. Disorganised, their rear ranks thinned by arrows and their first two lines now destroyed, the guards began to fall back while the legionaries cried ‘Dura, Dura’ as they cut their way into the enemy. Back the guards went, towards the palace where archers were filing out from the building to form a phalanx at the top of the stone steps.

The legionaries pressed on, stabbing at their opponents, but then a volley of arrows brought their advance to a halt as the front ranks closed their shields together and those behind hoisted their shields above the heads of those in front to form a testudo. The arrows slammed harmlessly into leather and wood as the command was given to retreat and trumpet calls rang out across the palace square. The royal guards also fell back and regrouped at the foot of the stone steps, covered by the archers behind them. These men were good soldiers, that much was true, but they faced certain death if they continued fighting.

A temporary lull descended over the battle as the legionaries held their shields in place and the Mesenians took no further action. Of Chosroes there was no sign.

Domitus came trotting back to where I was standing just inside the broken palace gates, and where Nergal joined us a few moments later. Domitus embraced him.

‘I knew your horse boys would come in handy one day,’ he grinned.

‘I never thought they would fight as well as they did,’ remarked Nergal, looking at the royal guards. ‘What now?’

Around us more legionaries were flooding into the compound and taking up position on the flanks of the first men who had fought their way into the palace grounds. Fresh javelins were ferried to the men facing the palace guards. Soon there would be nearly five thousand men facing what I estimated to be under a thousand palace guards and around two hundred archers.

Nergal looked towards the palace steps. ‘They must know that they are going to die.’

Domitus spat on the ground. ‘They know, but they are good soldiers and are prepared to die for their lord.’

‘And where is their lord?’ I asked.

‘Skulking inside his palace no doubt,’ replied Nergal.

‘Let’s get it over with, then,’ said Domitus.

‘No, go and tell Marcus to bring his smaller ballista inside the palace grounds,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to lose any more men than we have to.’

Domitus nodded and ran back to where the engineers stood with their machines. He took a hundred men with him, who helped the Romans carry their ballista into the square and position them around three hundred paces from the royal guards arrayed at the foot of the palace steps. They loaded spears with long iron heads into the machines as I tied a white rag to the end of my sword and walked forward with it held aloft.

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Domitus called after me.

I turned and smiled at him. ‘Is that any way to speak to your king?’

I walked to where the legionaries were standing in their ranks, shields still hoisted above their heads. They parted as I made my way to the front and then strolled beyond the front rank to face the enemy, their shields forming a wall of bronze to my front, the spears of the front ranks levelled towards me. Behind me Marcus’ men dragged forward the ballista as the legionaries shuffled their tightly packed centuries sideways to create gaps for the ballista to shoot from. I raised my sword so all could see the white rag tied to its point. I carried on walking towards the enemy until I was around a hundred paces from them.

‘That’s far enough,’ called out one in the front rank, their commander I assumed.

I lowered my spatha and untied the white rag.

‘I would ask that you lay down your weapons. I guarantee your lives will be spared.’

I slid my blade back in its sheath. There was no answer from the Mesenian ranks.

‘You have done all that honour requires,’ I said to them. ‘It is senseless to die for no purpose.’

Silence greeted my plea. I tried once more.

‘I ask you once more to lay down your weapons. I will not do so again.’

The enemy stood like stone statues before me.

‘Go back to your blonde whore,’ shouted one.

I turned and walked briskly back to my Durans and then to where Domitus, Nergal and Marcus stood near the gates. I pointed at Marcus.

‘Kill them all.’

He saluted and then rushed off to begin his work.

‘One day,’ said Domitus, ‘you will get an arrow through your heart or a spear in your guts while you stand in front of the enemy trying to sweet-talk them. If they didn’t want to fight any more they would have run away or thrown down their weapons already.’

I nodded. ‘You are right, it was a waste of time.’

Seconds later a score of ballista began shredding the enemy ranks. The first volley of iron-tipped missiles cut down the front rank with ease, slicing through shields, armour and flesh. Men were not only hit but also thrown back by the force of the blow, knocking those behind off their feet. Half the ballista fired solid iron balls the size of a fist at the archers at the top of the steps, smashing skulls and bodies with ease.

As the balls careered through the enemy’s ranks the archers loosed one volley against us, the arrows slamming harmlessly into the locked shields of the Duran ranks, but that was the only volley they shot. Seeing their comrades’ skulls being caved in and the spearmen of the royal guard being skewered by iron-tipped bolts, the archers ran. They suddenly disappeared into the palace. Domitus was standing beside me as we watched the archers melt away. I heard Marcus bark some orders and all the ballista were then directed against the spearmen, who to their credit were still standing in their ranks. But the missile fire was mercilessly thinning those ranks.

‘Finish them,’ I said to Domitus.

He walked forward to a group of his officers, who sprinted to the trumpeters standing behind the cohorts. The instruments blasted and Marcus turned to look at me. He raised his hand at the signal and then shouted at his men to cease their shooting. The testudo formations broke up as legionaries brought their shields down to cover the front of their bodies. Another trumpet blast signalled the advance. The cohort that had forced its way into the palace grounds faced the royal guard now and began to advance. Just as they had done a hundred times on the training ground, the men trotted forward to within thirty paces of the enemy and then hurled their javelins. The missiles flew through the air and lodged in the shields of the enemy, the soft metal bending after impact to make it impossible for its user to pull it out. After throwing their javelins the legionaries drew their swords and charge headlong into the royal guard. As the two lines clashed the rearmost ranks in each century also hurled their javelins into the enemy. This time the Mesenian formation buckled. Already weakened by the fight at the gates and being cut to pieces by ballista missiles, they were at first pushed back as the Durans used their swords to stab with frenzy. On their flanks more centuries cut into the guardsmen so that in no time they were being assaulted on three sides. Incredibly they did not fall back but stood and died in their ranks. It did not take long, more legionaries sweeping up the steps and then assaulting them from the rear. The piercing screams of the dying cut the air as the guardsmen were scythed down by hundreds of gladius blades. No quarter was asked for or given, and then there was only a pile of dead men where the best of Chosroes’ soldiers had once stood.

The Durans then poured into the palace. I walked with Domitus and Nergal in the wake of the slaughter. My soldiers were disciplined, but they had earned this victory and I was in no mood to prevent their excesses as bloodlust gripped them. We walked up the palace steps, skirting the piles of dead that were scattered all around. Already Marcus’ men were walking among the corpses looking for ballista missiles that could be retrieved. We had a century as an escort as we made our way through the stone columns at the top of the palace steps and then went into the building itself. Ahead I could hear shouts, screams and whoops as the Durans vented their wrath upon anyone who still resisted. A total of three cohorts had entered the palace, which I soon regretted.

The palace consisted of a great vaulted main hall leading to the throne room, which was flanked by two smaller rooms opening into three larger, domed halls. These in turn led to the rear of the palace where numerous private apartments were located. Everywhere there were smashed statues, wrecked furniture and torn curtains and tapestries. I ordered Domitus to go back outside and bring more soldiers into the palace to control the ones who were already inside and running amok. Nergal and I continued through the main hall to the throne room and then the private apartments. We came across corridors littered with dead servants and court officials, with Durans lounging around on furniture or hacking at desks and valuable ornaments with their swords. As soon as they saw me they stopped and stood to attention. I ordered them to leave the palace immediately and assemble on the square outside. We continued our journey, stopping when we heard the screams of women at the end of a long corridor on our left. We ran down it and came to two red doors inlaid with gold that had been forced open. Four gaudily dressed servants lay dead immediately inside the doors, their torsos ripped to shreds by repeated sword thrusts. This was Chosroes’ harem. Its floor was covered with white marble tiles, white and red curtains were hanging from the ceiling; the air was filled with the aroma of sweet incense. No doubt the dead at the doors were eunuchs charged with guarding the king’s wives. The women themselves, around twenty in number, were huddled in a frightened group in the middle of a great columned room, surrounded by at least a hundred leering, raucous legionaries. Many of the women, some young girls, had been stripped naked before being herded together. They were clinging to each other, terrified, weeping and pleading for mercy. The escort formed into close order as I marched through the throng and stood in front of the women.

‘Stop this at once,’ I bellowed at the top of my voice.

The din ceased immediately as the soldiers recognised me.

‘The finest soldiers in the empire are not rapists or murderers of young girls,’ I said sternly. ‘Leave this place and assemble on the square outside the palace.’

I drew my sword as they looked at each other. ‘Any man who wishes to touch any of these women will have to come through me first.’ Nergal likewise drew his sword and stood beside me.

The next few seconds confirmed my belief that these men were indeed Parthia’s finest warriors as they saluted and tramped from the harem with their heads down, not one of them protesting against my decision. I placed a guard outside the harem and left the king’s wives alone to compose themselves. My only wish was to find Chosroes; I had no interest in his women.

Domitus returned with more troops, who were divided into parties to carry out a sweep of the palace, halt all further looting and order the soldiers to assemble on the palace square. The palace may have been ransacked, but Domitus had ensured that the armoury, treasury and royal granary had all been secured before anyone had a chance to loot them. Order was quickly restored as the Duran Legion was assembled on the square where a roll call was taken. On the outside of the square Nergal’s horse archers were sitting in their saddles waiting for their commander. He and I stood at the top of the palace steps. I heard marching feet and turned to see Domitus leading half a dozen legionaries carrying a corpse. They halted in front of me and dumped the body on the stone slabs.

‘Behold King Chosroes,’ said Domitus. ‘We found him lying on his bed. Looks like he took poison.’

I stared at the corpse. The eyes were wide open and there was white froth around the mouth. Nergal laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘Your victory is complete, Pacorus.’

I nodded and thanked him, yet I felt cheated. Narses said that I was to be executed on this very square, and I had wanted so much to see Chosroes executed here instead, to see the terror in his eyes before he died. But now he was gone and only a pile of carrion remained. I spat on the corpse.

‘Put it on a cart,’ I said.

We left the legion to guard the palace compound and also left Marcus and his men there. It was late afternoon now and the soldiers were tired after their exertions. I also instructed Domitus to stay at the palace.

‘Where are you going?’ he asked.

‘To make sure my wife is safe.’

‘I should come with you,’ he growled as I mounted Remus.

‘You must stay here, my friend. Get some rest and food, you have earned them. I’m sure the palace kitchens can provide something agreeable to eat.’

The bodies of the palace guard were being loaded on to carts to be carried to the fires that were already burning outside the palace compound, the nauseating smell of burning flesh filling the air.

I raised my hand to Domitus. ‘I will return later.’

He raised his arm in salute as I rode from the palace at the head of Nergal’s horse archers. We rode back through the Royal Orchard to the White Temple located on the other side of the city. The White Temple was one of the wonders of the world. The temple itself was a ziggurat, a pyramid built in five receding tiers that sat on a massive square stone platform. Constructed of sun-baked bricks, it was faced with white stone. As we approached the temple I could see the great outside ramps that led to the pyramid’s summit. And yet the ziggurat was not a place of worship, it was a dwelling place for the gods; in the White Temple’s case the sky god Anu. Having His own house, Anu could be close to His worshippers who gathered around the temple’s base. Only priests were allowed inside the temple. The extensive temple grounds were surrounded by a white stonewall twice the height of a man. When we arrived at the walls themselves we found Gallia, Orodes, Kuban, Surena, Byrd and Malik gathered in a richly appointed house directly south of the main entrance to the White Temple’s grounds. Gallia rushed over and threw her arms around me when Nergal and I appeared. Nergal and Praxima also had an emotional reunion.

Orodes embraced me. ‘Thank the gods you are safe.’

‘Of course,’ I replied, ‘the palace has fallen. Chosroes is dead.’

‘Yes,’ hissed Surena, clenching his fists in triumph.

‘What is happening here?’ I asked.

‘The people have taken refuge in the temple compound,’ said Gallia, ‘those that haven’t been butchered, that is.’ She shot a disdainful look at Surena.

‘We have surrounded the temple,’ said Orodes, ‘but decided against ordering an assault.’

‘There are no soldiers guarding the temple, only priests,’ remarked Surena. ‘We can take it easily.’

‘Your opinion does not count,’ retorted Gallia.

‘You were right not to order an assault,’ I said. ‘We cannot begin the city’s new era in blood.’

‘Then what do we do?’ asked Orodes.

‘We show humility, Orodes, that is what we do.’

I ordered that the Exiles fall back to the south, out of site of the temple. There may not have been any soldiers inside the compound, but there would be eyes on the walls that would have seen the thousands of troops encircling them. I also ordered Kuban, Malik and Surena to withdraw their men; Surena especially as his followers had been involved in excesses in the working quarter. Even Gallia’s Amazons and Orodes and the cataphracts were pulled back out of sight of the walls.

‘What if they scorn your appeal?’ asked Gallia.

‘The troops can be summoned back easily enough,’ I replied. ‘We have to gain their trust.’

‘That might be difficult after the killings by Surena and his swamp people.’

‘Marsh people,’ I replied.

‘You indulge him far too much, Pacorus.’

‘Perhaps,’ I said, ‘but if my plan works it will be worth it.’

I approached the main entrance to the temple without weapons or armour.

I had forgotten how many times I had done this — that is, walk up to the enemy’s stronghold alone and vulnerable. I always comforted myself with the notion that the enemy would not strike down an envoy seeking a parley, but in many ways this was a foolish notion. What did honour or rules mean to most kings and generals in the world? I myself had been betrayed more than once and yet still clung to the notion that right and wrong were woven into the very fabric of the world. As I approached the white gates I could hear the laughter of Spartacus in my mind, Domitus too for that matter. The gates were not large or particularly strong; rather, ornate and an ostentatious display of wealth, being inlaid with silver and gold, with grilles over the two spy holes, one positioned in the centre of each gate. There was no one on the walls so I banged on one of the gates with my fist and then stepped back. Silence. I banged on the gate again and waited. Nothing. This was ridiculous.

‘I am Pacorus, King of Dura,’ I shouted at the top of my voice. ‘I am alone and would speak to your leaders.’

I looked left and right for any signs of life but saw none. Then a thought flashed through my mind. Perhaps the temple compound was empty. But if that was the case, where had all the people gone? Perplexed, I turned to walk back to my men when I heard a sliding noise behind me. I turned around to see a face at one of the grilles.

‘Are you alone?’ a voice asked.

I held out my arms. ‘I am alone and unarmed.’

The spy hole snapped shut. A few seconds later one of the gates opened and a man came from the compound, a tall individual with a long stride and broad shoulders. In his late fifties, he wore a white robe with long sleeves edged with gold and gold earrings. He had a long face and nose and dark brown eyes and was completely bald. His eyebrows had also been shaved. He halted a few paces from me and looked around to see if I had told the truth about being alone.

‘As I said, I am alone.’

‘So it would seem,’ his voice was deep and commanding. ‘I am Rahim, high priest to Anu.’

I bowed my head. ‘It is an honour to meet you, sir.’

He studied me for a few seconds. ‘So you are King Pacorus, the great warlord whose infamy is known throughout the empire.’

‘I like to think of myself as a man who was wronged and who has searched for justice.’

His brow creased. ‘Perhaps you confuse justice with revenge.’

I smiled. ‘If I was intent on revenge I would have ordered my soldiers to have stormed the temple compound. I assume the people are within.’

His nostrils flared. ‘They are under the protection of Anu. He watches us now, especially you young warlord.’

‘I have no desire to harm the people, Rahim.’

He maintained his defiance. ‘You have already killed some innocents.’

‘I deeply regret that. I did not desire it.’

‘Who else have you killed this day?’

‘Only those who desired to kill me,’ I replied casually.

He looked to the east, where the Royal Orchard lay. ‘You have taken the palace?’

‘Yes.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘And you have killed the king?’

I sighed. ‘He killed himself, took poison I believe.’

‘It is a terrible thing that you have done.’

‘No more terrible than assaulting my city with the intention of killing my family,’ I replied. ‘Did Chosroes believe that I would forget such a gross insult, that I would not seek redress for his crimes?’

He looked away from me. ‘The affairs of kings are of no concern to me. I serve Anu and all those who follow Him.’

‘I have no wish to offend Anu, Rahim.’

‘Then keep your soldiers out of his temple,’ he snapped.

I raised my arms. ‘Do you see any soldiers, Rahim? I wish to bring peace to Uruk.’

‘By slaughtering its king and his people? A curious stratagem.’

‘By ensuring that there is a friend of Dura on its throne.’

He pointed a long finger at me. ‘So you wish to make yourself king in Chosroes’ place. I detect ambition to be your chief motive rather than to redress any wrongs done to you.’

I feigned a hurtful expression. ‘I? Of course not, I already have a throne.’

He was confused. ‘Then who?’

I looked up at the sky. ‘It is late, Rahim. We will talk more in the morning. Please come to the palace at your convenience where I shall explain all. And tell the people they can return to their homes if they wish.’

He shook his head. ‘They are fearful and will remain in the temple compound until they feel safe.’

I bowed my head to him. ‘Very well. Until tomorrow, then.’

I turned and walked back to the house where Gallia and Orodes were waiting. The light was fading as I ordered the Exiles and the horsemen to march to the palace of Chosroes. It had been a most satisfactory day.

When we arrived at the palace Gallia became most annoyed. Not only was she appalled by the existence of Chosroes’ harem, she also learned that the women had come close to being mass-raped. And to compound her fury some of the walls were splattered with blood from where servants and court officials had been killed by the first Durans who had swept through the palace. She insisted that the Amazons stood guard over the king’s wives and prohibited any man from entering that part of the palace where the harem was located. She also wanted those men who had stripped the women to be publicly flogged in the palace square, a demand that I talked her out of with great difficulty. In the end I told her that I was responsible for the looting of the palace and therefore some of the blame for what happened in the harem was my fault.

‘Those women are under my protection,’ she hissed.

‘Of course.’

‘And any who wish to join the Amazons will be free to do so. Those who do not wish to ride with me will be free to go where they will, and will have gold to start their new life.’

‘As you wish.’

We had all gathered in one of the rooms in the palace’s private chambers, a small feasting hall near the kitchens with the walls decorated with scenes of hunting. Domitus had posted guards on the city’s walls and at the gates where we had forced an entry. He had also organised patrols to enforce the curfew that had been put in place. The Ma’adan had been brought into the palace compound where they could be watched and prevented from committing any more mischief, while the horsemen of Nergal and Orodes were also camped in the palace grounds, their mounts finding fresh bedding and food in the royal stables. As the palace servants had either been killed or had run away, we were served a meal of roasted lamb that had been prepared by some of Domitus’ legionaries. Gallia sat at one end of the long table flanked by Praxima and Nergal, while I sat at the other end. Domitus and Orodes sat next to each other on one side of the table, facing Surena and Marcus on the other side. I had asked Marcus to join us because it had been his machines that had made our victory possible.

The wine that had been found in the cellars beneath the palace was excellent, and soon Domitus was in high spirits. He rose and held his silver cup aloft.

‘Here’s to you, Pacorus. A great victory.’

The others rapped their knuckles on the table.

I stood and acknowledged their acclaim. I held up my cup to Marcus. ‘Without Marcus and his men we would not be sitting here, so I thank him and them for their splendid work this day.’

The others toasted our Roman ally, who blushed and avoided our eyes.

Domitus drained his cup and refilled it with more wine. He stood once more. ‘Hail to Pacorus, King of Uruk.’

More rapping on the table. I held up my hands. ‘Thank you, Domitus, but I shall not be king of this city.’

Domitus looked confused. ‘You won’t?’

‘No.’

He sat down, shrugged and drank more wine.

Gallia leaned forward and focused her eyes on me. ‘Then who will rule Uruk?’

‘Who, my love? The two people sitting either side of you, that’s who.’

Gallia leaned back in her chair and eyed me suspiciously, while Nergal and Praxima said nothing. Indeed, Nergal appeared not to have grasped the meaning of what I had said, but Praxima certainly did. She looked at Gallia, then at Nergal and then at me. I smiled at her.

‘That is correct, Praxima, you two shall rule Uruk.’

‘So,’ said Gallia, ‘this is the little scheme that you have been plotting all this time.’

‘Hardly a little scheme, my love. More like a great scheme’

Nergal had finally grasped the significance of my words.

‘And do Nergal and Praxima have a say in this?’ asked Gallia.

‘Of course,’ I replied.

‘You hear that, Praxima,’ said Gallia, ‘Pacorus would make you a queen and your husband a king.’

‘It is a great honour,’ said Nergal.

Gallia’s eyes were still on me. ‘Is it, Nergal? You will be alone without an army when Pacorus returns to Dura. What will happen then when Narses and Mithridates march against you to avenge their ally’s death? Do you think so little of our friends, Pacorus, that you would sacrifice them so easily?’

I jumped up. ‘Of course not. Uruk will have an army. Surena will stay and train his people to be the garrison, and Kuban and his men will also stay to serve Nergal. Babylon lies to the north of Mesene, and so I will ask Vardan to send soldiers to reinforce the garrison. I think he will be glad to have a friend to the south of his borders rather than an enemy.’

‘I accept the charge, lord,’ said a partly drunk Surena.

‘Be silent,’ hissed Gallia.

‘Surena will raise more men from the Ma’adan,’ I said, ‘and the citizens of Uruk will accept their new rulers.’

‘They will?’ said Gallia, incredulously.

‘Of course. Chosroes and his sons are dead. His line is ended. Dura needs an ally on Uruk’s throne. So what say the both of you, will you accept? I promise that you will never stand alone.’

I could see that Gallia still had reservations, but Praxima was grinning with delight and Nergal was bursting with pride. They looked at each other and Praxima nodded at her husband.

Nergal looked at me. ‘We accept, Pacorus, you are a most generous friend.’

He and Praxima went to bed in high spirits that night. I told them to meet us the next morning in the throne room. Gallia was far from happy.

‘It is a ridiculous plan, hare-brained. You think the people of this city will accept Nergal and Praxima?’

‘Why not? They accepted Chosroes and all he brought them was war and misery.’

She was brushing her blonde locks near the gold inlaid wicker doors that led on to the balcony. Her beauty still took my breath away. We had taken one of the bedrooms near the quarters of the new king and queen.

She stopped her grooming and turned to look at me. ‘And what of Mithridates and Narses, do you think they will accept your little arrangement?’

I walked over to her and kissed her on the head. ‘No, but who will they send against me? Mithridates will not leave Ctesiphon and his doting mother and Narses will have to raise a large army before he dares to march against me. And to raise an army will take time.’

‘You have it all worked out, don’t you?’

I cupped her face in my hands. ‘Of course. But enough of politics. Let us talk of giving Claudia a brother or sister, if my queen is agreeable to the notion.’

She placed her hands on my hips and looked at me with her big blue eyes and her mood softened. ‘She is agreeable.’

It was truly a most wonderful end to a great day.

The morning came soon enough, and with it the sound of hobnailed sandals on the flagstones of the palace square. The voices of centurions barking orders and trumpet and horn blasts signalled that it was just another routine day in the life of Dura’s army. After a breakfast of fruit, honey, yoghurt, bread and water, Gallia and I went to the throne room where we found a nervous Nergal and Praxima. Gallia embraced her friend and I laid a hand on Nergal’s shoulder.

‘You are not going into battle, my friend.’

‘I wish I were,’ he said, his face slightly pale. ‘Are you sure about this, Pacorus?’

‘Quite sure. How many years have we fought together? Remember, you have Dura’s army behind you.’

And I made sure that the army’s strength was on show that day. The city walls were lined with legionaries and Nergal’s horse archers made a sweep through the Royal Orchard looking for any remnants of the garrison. They found a large group of them who promptly surrendered themselves in exchange for their lives. I asked Orodes to take the cataphracts attired in their scale armour to the White Temple to act as an escort for Rahim. I kept Surena and his Ma’adan out of the palace and thus out of the way of Gallia, but he approved of my plan to make Nergal king.

‘An excellent choice, majesty. Lord Nergal is a great warrior. Will he expel the population from the city?’

I was horrified. ‘Certainly not.’

‘They have oppressed my people for many years.’

‘That may be, but today is the beginning of a new era for Uruk,’ I said, ‘one in which Ma’adan and Mesenians will live in peace.’

‘Old wounds take time to heal, lord.’

‘But they do heal, Surena, eventually. So I will have no more talk of enmity between your people and the Mesenians.’

He remained sceptical but was nevertheless delighted that Chosroes, the murderer of his parents, was dead. And as the late king’s army had also been put to the sword I foresaw few difficulties in uniting the kingdom under Nergal. The only potential obstacle to the whole project was Rahim, who arrived mid-morning, escorted into the palace by Orodes and accompanied by a dozen other priests dressed in white robes. Also bald like him, they trailed a few steps behind him with their heads bowed. We waited for Rahim in the throne room, Nergal and Praxima sitting on the dais. Nergal sat on Chosroes’ old throne but we had to find another seat for Praxima, as the old king had not shared his power with any of his many wives. We fetched the most richly decorated chair we could find and draped it in a red cloth to give it a mask of authority. Praxima wore her white top under her mail tunic, leggings and boots, her trusty dagger at her hip. Her sword in its scabbard rested against her chair. Nergal wore Chosroes’ crown and kept touching it, more from nerves than anything else. I stood beside him on the dais on his right-hand side, while Gallia stood next to Praxima. Both women let their hair hang free, Gallia’s pure blonde, Praxima’s a fiery red. To me Praxima would always be the wild, fierce warrior who killed with relish on the battlefield with the Amazons when we had been in Italy, but looking at her today I could see that she was also a very striking woman. Not a beauty, perhaps, but proud, strong and uncompromising. She would make a fine queen for her king.

Nergal touched his crown again. ‘Don’t worry,’ I whispered, ‘it won’t fall off. It suits you, Nergal, it really does.’

Around the outside of the room legionaries lined the walls and Amazons in their helmets and clutching their bows were either side of the dais. Rahim may have been surrounded by a host of soldiers but he retained his haughty demeanour, standing proudly in front of the dais with his arms folded. His stance could have been interpreted as a sign of disrespect but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Welcome Rahim, I trust you and the people are well.’

‘They are well,’ sniffed Rahim, his eyes darting from me to Nergal and then Praxima.

I held out a hand towards Nergal. ‘Behold, King Nergal, ruler of this city, and his queen, Praxima.’

I thought I saw a flash of awe in Rahim’s eyes, but then it was gone as the priests behind him started whispering frantically among themselves. One walked forward and uttered some words into Rahim’s ear. The high priest nodded and then looked at Nergal and then Praxima. Then they turned their backs on us all and conferred together. Gallia looked across at me and frowned while Domitus looked bored. Nergal and Praxima both looked confused. Then Rahim and his priests stopped their chattering and went down on bended knees in front of Nergal. Rahim spoke, his voice echoing around the room.

‘Hail, holy one. Your coming was foretold many generations ago. We beg your forgiveness for doubting you. Please accept our humble apologies and our devotion.’

I was stunned. It was certainly more than I expected. I had hoped for Rahim’s acquiescence, a grudging acceptance would have sufficed. But this? I slapped Nergal on the shoulders, which earned me a glower from Rahim when he spotted it. No matter. Dobbai had been right; I must be beloved of the gods.

‘Get up, please, get up all of you,’ said a rather surprised Nergal.

Rahim and his priests rose and bowed their heads at Nergal and Praxima. A priest took two paces forward and whispered into Rahim’s ear once more.

Rahim nodded. ‘Excellent idea.’ He bowed his head to Nergal. ‘Would your highness and Queen Allatu care to visit the temple and inspect your people assembled there?’

Allatu? What nonsense was this? Praxima looked at Gallia, who shrugged.

‘Your idea is an excellent one, Rahim,’ I said.

He glowered at me again. ‘Only the king and queen may enter the temple itself.’

Nergal stood up, which caused Rahim and his priests to gasp in wonderment and once again go down on bended knee.

‘There is no time like the present,’ said Nergal, who now appeared much more confident. He held out his hand to Praxima, who rose from her chair and took it. They both then walked from the throne room with Rahim and his holy men following.

‘Go with them, Orodes,’ I said, ‘make sure they stay safe.’

Rahim turned sharply to face me. ‘I can assure you that they will be quite safe.’

He then scurried after Nergal and Praxima with Orodes walking briskly after them. When they had left Domitus dismissed the guards from the room and Gallia stood down her Amazons, leaving the three of us alone in the great chamber.

‘Does either of you understand what just happened?’ asked Gallia.

‘Pacorus has obviously bribed that head priest,’ said Domitus.

‘I don’t think any amount of money would have produced that outcome,’ I replied. ‘But whatever the cause of Rahim’s change of heart I give thanks to Shamash for it. It has made things much easier.’

‘He obviously saw something in Nergal and Praxima that reminded him of something sacred,’ remarked Gallia.

Domitus slapped me hard on the arm. ‘Whatever it was, Jupiter has smiled on you this day. You are one lucky bastard.’

‘Who is Jupiter?’ asked Gallia.

‘King of the gods,’ said Domitus.

‘The king of the Roman gods,’ I corrected him.

‘Roman, Parthian, they are all the same,’ said Domitus, ‘they demand endless grovelling and buckets of blood. Well, whatever the reason, I have an army to run. How long are you thinking of staying here?’

In fact we stayed for two weeks, during which time we learned more about Rahim’s change of heart. When Nergal and Praxima returned to the palace I was delighted to learn that Rahim had ordered the people to return to their homes. The new king and his queen had been taken on a tour of the White Temple, during which Rahim had taken them to the shrine at the summit of the ziggurat. Inside they had been shown ancient clay tablets and stone carvings on the walls.

The tablets told of Nergal, the god of war who was the eldest son of Anu. As Nergal related what Rahim had told him, I realised why he and his priests had reason to believe that Nergal was the reincarnation of his namesake. As well as his name, Nergal resembled the god in other ways. He was a gangly individual and the tablets told of a god who was a man having the legs of a cock, thus when Nergal stood up in the throne room the priests would have seen his long legs. Rahim had said that Nergal would come to the city at the head of an army for he was the god of war and pestilence and the lord of the half-human demons of the underworld. Rahim interpreted Dura’s legions as demons and, more importantly, worshippers of Shamash accompanied him, for Nergal was the brother of the sun god. Rahim then showed them a stone carving of Nergal on his throne with his wife, the goddess Allatu, a deity of the underworld, seated next to him. Allatu had the head of a lion, and seeing Praxima’s fiery mane Rahim and his priests had interpreted this as further proof that they were indeed the ones that the ancient tablets had spoken of.

Marcus and his men, having been responsible for the destruction of the city’s southern gates, oversaw the rebuilding of the walls and city life began to return to normal. The body of Chosroes was taken outside the city and reduced to ashes on a pyre, the ashes then being tossed into the Euphrates. I left a cohort under Drenis in Uruk to train the Ma’adan recruits that Surena had raised, who was sent back to his people to spread the news that there was a new king on the throne of Uruk. He took Viper with him to show her off to his family. He would stay with Nergal, as would Kuban and his Margianians. Gallia also left half the Amazons with Praxima, the two of them having a tearful farewell in the palace as the Duran Legion and the Exiles were already on the march out of the city. We would take the same route back to Dura that had brought us to Uruk. Orodes said his farewells and then departed the palace square at the head of the cataphracts and horse archers. At the end only Gallia, I and those Amazons who were returning to Dura remained, plus half a dozen new recruits, former members of the harem, now in my queen’s bodyguard. To one side, observing the proceedings, stood the brooding figure of Rahim.

I extended my hand to Nergal. ‘It has been an honour serving with you, my friend.’

He took my hand and we embraced. ‘You too, Pacorus. I owe everything to you.’

‘He would have been proud of you, of both of you.’

‘Who?’ he asked.

‘Spartacus.’

‘You think he watches over us, Pacorus?’

I smiled. ‘I like to think so.’

‘Me too.’

I embraced Praxima and kissed her on the cheek.

‘Remember,’ I said, ‘you are not alone. Dura stands with you always.’

Gallia was silent as we rode from the city and rejoined the army that was winding its way south and then west to the ford across the Euphrates. Byrd and Malik rode ahead to ensure there were no hostile groups in our path, but it was unnecessary. Even before we had left Uruk those lords of Mesene who were still alive had ridden to the city to pay homage to their new king. It would take time to rebuild the kingdom’s army, the more so because Mesene was not rich, but Nergal and his officers were up to the task and when they had finished Dura would have a valuable ally.

The march back to Dura was uneventful, though it was made at a hastened pace as Gallia wished to be with Claudia as soon as possible. Domitus used her desire for hurry as an excuse to push the army hard, the legionaries marching over twenty miles a day and grumbling like fury as they did so. They did not mind hard marching at the beginning of a campaign, but thought that they were entitled to take it easy after they had won another great victory. The oxen pulling the wagons that held Marcus’ siege engines could not maintain such a pace without collapsing in the heat, so I was forced to detach Orodes and half the army’s horse archers to protect them as the rest of the army sped north. After four days the gap between the wagons and the rest of the army had become too great and I called a halt, informing Gallia that the army would march as one. We waited for Orodes to catch up and then proceeded at a more leisurely pace. On the seventh day we bade farewell to Malik and Byrd, who both returned to Palmyra with Malik’s men.

Ten days after we had crossed the Euphrates to head back to Dura, Gallia and I rode through the Palmyrene Gate and into the city. Domitus and his legions returned to their camp and the lords and their retinues continued on to their homes. Crowds lined the streets and cheered as we led the cataphracts and their squires to the Citadel. Orodes rode beside us, the banners of Dura and Susiana fluttering behind. At the Citadel Godarz, Rsan and Dobbai, the latter holding Claudia’s hand, greeted us. Gallia jumped down and raced over to our daughter, then scooped her up in her arms. Godarz and Rsan looked solemn, and then I saw my father at the top of the palace steps. Somewhat taken aback, I dismounted and handed Remus’ reins to a waiting stable hand. Behind me the cataphracts and squires were likewise dismounting and leading their horses to the stables. I walked over to Gallia and embraced my daughter, one eye on my father who still stood at the top of the steps.

‘How long has my father been here?’

‘He arrived this morning, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai.

I kissed Claudia once more and strode up the steps to where my father stood.

‘Greetings, father.’ I walked forward and embraced him. ‘This is an unexpected pleasure.’

‘I waited on the other side of the river until news arrived that you were near the city.’

‘Is mother well?’

‘She is well. We need to talk.’

My instincts told me that something was wrong, which was confirmed half an hour later as we sat on the terrace taking refreshments. I sent a rider to fetch Domitus and also asked Orodes, Godarz and Rsan to attend us. Dobbai, though not asked to be present, invited herself anyway. My father paced up and down the terrace in front of us as we waited for Domitus, frequently glancing at Orodes. Eventually Domitus arrived and the doors were closed.

My father stopped pacing and looked at Orodes. ‘Prince Orodes, I regret to inform you that your father is dead.’

There was a stunned silence.

Orodes went pale. ‘Dead? How, are you quite sure, majesty?’

‘We received word from Ctesiphon a week ago.’

‘What was the cause of his death?’ I asked.

‘A broken heart, we were told. Brought on by the murder of Chosroes at your hand.’

I was dumbfounded. ‘What?’

‘My sincerest condolences for your father, Orodes,’ continued my father, ‘he was a good man.’

Orodes’ eyes were cast down. ‘Yes, he was.’

‘Mithridates blames you for his father’s death, Pacorus, and has sworn vengeance against you,’ said my father. ‘Moreover, because the empire is in a state of war Mithridates has become temporary King of Kings until the present emergency is dealt with.’

‘What war, what emergency?’ I asked.

‘Do not you see, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai, ‘that you were the instrument by which Mithridates has gained the high crown?’ She looked at the wilted figure of Orodes. ‘I grieve for you, young prince, for your father was surely murdered by Mithridates and the queen, poisoned most likely, and now your brother rules in Ctesiphon.’

‘How can he become King of Kings without the agreement of the other kings of the empire?’ I asked.

‘It is simple arithmetic,’ replied my father. ‘Gordyene has no king and is no longer part of the empire.’

‘That is only temporary,’ I spat.

My father frowned and held up his hand. ‘Gordyene has no king, and neither does Sakastan, thanks to you, or for that matter Mesene, also thanks to you. You have been banished, which means Dura has no vote in the matter. This means that the kingdoms of Susiana, Carmania, Drangiana, Aria, Anauon, Yueh-Chih, Persis and Sakastan support the election of Mithridates as temporary King of Kings.’

Now it was my turn to pace the terrace. ‘But Narses rules both Persis and Sakastan, those kingdoms cannot have two votes.’

My father shook his head. ‘He rules his own kingdom and is protector over Sakastan.’

‘Mere semantics,’ growled Orodes, still looking down.

My father sighed. ‘That may be, prince, but Narses can still muster two votes on this issue.’

‘But the kingdoms in the western half of the empire,’ I said.

‘Are out-voted, Pacorus,’ interrupted my father. ‘And even if they were not they have no stomach for another civil war. Atropaiene and Media have been weakened by conflict with the Romans, while potential enemies surround Gotarzes at Elymais. The kings are tired of fighting Pacorus, and many of them blame you for the cause of much of it.’

I stopped pacing and looked at him. ‘And Hatra?’

He smiled, the first time he had done so today. ‘Hatra will stand by you.’

‘But the only one that will,’ said Dobbai. ‘Your enemies increase in number, son of Hatra. I did warn you, but your thirst for glory blinded you. You should have marched on Ctesiphon instead or Uruk. You had the armies of other kings with you then.’

‘They would not have supported an attack against the high king,’ said my father sternly.

Dobbai cackled. ‘Now you will face the wrath of two empires.’

‘Two empires?’ I said.

An evil grin spread over her old face. ‘You did not think that Rome had forgotten about you, did you?’

‘Careful old woman,’ I replied, ‘one day you will talk your head off your shoulders.’

‘But not before two mighty armies will march against you, son of Hatra, one from the east and one from the west. Not before then.’

My father left for Hatra the next morning. He told us that we would always have refuge in Hatra. Gallia embraced him in the courtyard as his bodyguard waited for their king.

‘We will not leave our home,’ she said.

He picked up Claudia and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Don’t leave it too long before you visit us. Your mother misses you all.’

He put Claudia down and offered me his hand. I took it.

‘Take care of Orodes, he has suffered a heavy blow.’

‘I shall, father.’

He suddenly looked old and careworn. ‘And take care of yourself. You have, unfortunately, made powerful enemies who have no understanding of the virtue of forgiveness.’

‘Dura’s walls and its army are strong, father.’

He mounted his horse and managed a smile for Gallia and Claudia.

‘You cannot fight everyone, Pacorus. May Shamash protect you.’

He rode from the Citadel with his bodyguard following him. Gallia and Dobbai took Claudia back inside and I stood alone in the courtyard. Guards stood on the walls and at the gates and squires busied themselves tending to their masters’ horses. A party of cataphracts in full war gear, a kontus resting on every right shoulder, trotted from the stables, across the courtyard and through the gates, raising their left hands in salute as they rode past me. The routine of military life went on, oblivious to the machinations of kings.

That afternoon I wrote a letter to Mithridates at Ctesiphon. I am no scribe, but I think it summed up my feelings succinctly. I sat alone on my bedroom balcony, Najya perched on a stand beside me.

To King Mithridates

Word has recently reached me that your father, King Phraates, has died of a broken heart. It indeed breaks my heart to think that such a good man has departed this world, and sickens me greatly that the one who was the cause of his death has stolen his crown and now dares to call himself the King of Kings.

I have also heard that you hold me responsible for your father’s death, and have used this lie to deceive numerous other kings of the empire into electing you to your present high office. And now you seek to make yourself master of all the Parthian Empire, but I have to tell you that while I still live you will never know peace. For you are a poison at the very heart of the empire, and every day that you sit upon the throne Parthia dies a little. The only cure for the empire is to remove this ulcer, this rottenness, and that includes your lackey Narses, another traitor who fouls the empire by his mere existence. I will not rest until you and he have suffered the same fate as those other traitors Porus and Chosroes. This I swear by all that is sacred.

I remain, your most implacable enemy.

Pacorus, King of Dura.

Thus was the die cast. The falcon suddenly stirred and spread her wings, and made at harsh kak, kak, kak noise while looking to the east, obviously sensing an ill wind. I stroked her head.

‘Easy, little one.’

I gave her a morsel of meat and she stopped fretting. I walked to the balustrade and gazed across the blue waters of the Euphrates to the east. So Mithridates was King of Kings with Narses as his right-hand man. They would soon be gathering an army to march against Dura, for they realised that neither of them would know peace while I was still in the world. And that would mean they would have to fight me. It would come down to one great battle, one final clash to decide the fate of the empire. I smiled. Good. Let them come; I would be ready.