Parthian Vengeance

Chapter 15

‘So the marsh boy has repaid the faith you placed in him?’

Dobbai was as usual sitting in her chair near the balustrade as I settled into another one a few paces from her. It was late now and so servants placed bronze oil lamps on the tables and balustrade so we could see each other’s faces, though I was mischievously tempted to order them to be taken away so that I would not have to look at Dobbai’s haggard old visage. They also placed stands around the balustrade that held incense sticks made from the dried flower heads of chrysanthemums and lit them. This was to keep away the swarms of mosquitoes from the river below that otherwise would have been attracted to the lamps and would have bitten us and given us the fevers that can lead to death. We also burnt oil made from the balanite tree to keep away these insects.

‘He has exceeded my expectations,’ I replied proudly.

Gallia flopped down in her chair beside me. ‘No doubt he is more arrogant than ever.’

Servants brought us wine and freshly made pastries from the kitchens while others placed silver boxes with holes in their sides around the edges of the terrace. We used these boxes all over the palace. They contained dead insects — cockroaches, flies and ants — that had been ground up. Though they had no smell these boxes acted as repellents to living insects and thus kept our home largely insect free.

‘Actually he has matured since he has been in Gordyene,’ I replied.

‘Good,’ said Dobbai, ‘he will need all his wits to fulfil the task the gods have set him.’

‘I would have thought he has done that already,’ I suggested.

Dobbai stopped sipping her wine and regarded me with contempt. ‘What has he done? Killed a few Armenians and taken possession of a hovel in the mountains.’

‘He has freed Gordyene and returned it to the empire,’ I said sternly.

She cackled. ‘If you are comparing your own feeble efforts in Gordyene with his, then I agree he has achieved some success. But he will achieve more. His star rises.’

‘How tedious,’ remarked Gallia.

‘Tedious or not,’ I added, ‘Surena’s victory in Gordyene has assisted us greatly.’

‘Us? Do not you mean you?’ said Dobbai.

‘Me?’

‘Of course, for you now rule Gordyene as well as Dura and have an army in each kingdom.’ She rose from her chair and walked to the balustrade to gaze at the marble-smooth waters of the Euphrates bathed in the pale glow of a full moon.

‘The recent strife in the empire has weakened all the kingdoms except Dura. The kingdoms in the west have seen their lands despoiled while those in the east have lost many sons during two years of bloodshed. Only Dura and Hatra remain unscathed.’

‘And Mesene,’ I added.

She looked at me and laughed. ‘Mesene is poor and stands only because of its Duran and Agraci allies. Above all Mithridates and Narses wanted you dead, son of Hatra.’

‘You say the most reassuring things,’ I quipped.

‘But they failed and now they are weaker and you are stronger.’

‘Will you take Gordyene for your own?’ asked Gallia.

‘He already has, child,’ said Dobbai before I could answer.

‘It does not belong to me,’ I said.

Dobbai threw up her hands. ‘Then who does it belong to, Mithridates?’

‘He sent a demand to Surena for him to hand it over,’ I replied. ‘Surena told him he would have to take it by force.’

‘Ha!’ Dobbai was delighted. ‘A most appropriate answer. The boy obviously has some steel in him. But you have not answered my question. What are you going to do about Gordyene?’

‘I will decide after the wedding.’

I was referring to the final wedding that we would be attending, that between Vata and Adeleh which would be taking place at Hatra in a month’s time.

‘I will be attending,’ Dobbai suddenly announced.

I looked at her in disbelief. For years now she had hardly ventured beyond the confines of the Citadel, being content to shuffle around the palace and spend most of her time with our children.

‘Are you sure?’ I queried. ‘You have not left the palace in an age.’

‘I am quite capable of sitting on a wagon for the duration of the journey, unless you do not wish me to attend.’

‘He course he does,’ said Gallia. ‘Don’t you, Pacorus?’

I held up my hands. ‘Of course, the more the merrier. We will have to take the children, then. Claudia and Isabella won’t stay here if Dobbai is not with them.’

Gallia frowned at me. ‘Then we will take them as well. Your father’s palace is large enough to accommodate us all.’

‘I have business to settle at Hatra,’ muttered Dobbai.

I shook my head and finished my wine. What business could she possibly have at Hatra? It was sad to witness her wits slowly diminish.

As we prepared for our journey life at Dura continued as normal. Regular deliveries of weapons were made to Alexander and Aaron’s treasury filled with Jewish gold. The trade caravans continued to pass through Dura and brought with them news of what was happening to the east of the Tigris. We heard that the court at Ctesiphon was riven with fear and loathing and that courtiers were pressing Mithridates to move further to the east, to Susa or even Esfahan. They feared that they were too near the western kingdoms whose kings might assault them. They were right about that at least. But Mithridates would not abandon the empire’s symbolic seat of power, not least because he desired to launch a fresh attack against those who were now in direct rebellion against him. Because the kingdoms of Mesene, Babylon, Hatra, Media and Atropaiene, as well as my own, refused to pay their annual tribute to Ctesiphon, Mithridates railed against them and threatened reprisals. But we heard that the eastern kings had no stomach for another great war, especially after their recent losses.

Of the Romans we heard little save what Byrd told us when he visited Dura. He had expanded his business interests and had established new offices in Damascus. Despite his wealth and importance he still rode a shabby horse and dressed in faded robes. He told me that Egypt was now a protectorate of Rome following a series of internecine struggles and I shuddered. Though Roman Syria was quiet I knew that the caravans that traversed the Parthian Empire before entering Syria or Egypt would also tell the authorities of those two regions that the Parthians had weakened themselves through years of civil war. It would surely be only a matter of time before Rome sent its legions against the empire.

It was a blisteringly hot morning when we set off for Dura. Initially we had determined to depart a day earlier but word came from Uruk that Nergal and Praxima had also been invited to Vata’s wedding. I had no idea why this should be so as Nergal had never known Vata but Gallia was delighted and insisted that we wait for them to reach Dura so we could all make the trip together. Dobbai and the children travelled in a large four-wheeled wagon on which Marcus had erected a metal frame so it could be covered with canvas to make a shaded interior. It was pulled by six mules and led two camels that carried our own tent and Dobbai’s. She also insisted that there should be three hammocks inside the wagon: one for her, one for Claudia and one for Isabella, in addition to Eszter’s cot. I had never seen Marcus so flustered as she ordered him around in the days preceding our departure. I think he was glad to see the back of us.

Gallia took the Amazons as her personal bodyguard. I told her this was unnecessary, as I had already organised a hundred cataphracts to escort us to Hatra. But now that Praxima was also with us it was an opportunity for her and Gallia and the rest of the female Companions to be united once more. Nergal brought a hundred of his horse archers with him, which meant our party numbered two hundred horse archers, two hundred squires and a hundred cataphracts. This number increased when we left Dura and passed over the pontoon bridge to the eastern side of the Euphrates where we had agreed to link up with the party of Orodes and Axsen who were also travelling to Hatra. The rulers of Babylon were escorted by one hundred royal guards attired in dragon skin armour. Axsen had inherited her father’s penchant for taking large numbers of servants on campaign, and so in addition to her royal guards there were cooks, the queen’s female attendants, grooms, slaves and farriers. I think Orodes was embarrassed by the massive entourage but seemed very happy with his new wife.

We all rode in one group as our small combined army made its way north, the Amazons riding directly behind us and a long line of horses and camels following. There must have been a thousand camels in our great expeditionary force.

Axsen found it most strange but was also intrigued. It was the first time she had ridden with Gallia and Praxima, both of them dressed in their mail shirts and fully armed, though because of the heat they were wearing their floppy hats and not their helmets. Axsen was most excited that Dobbai was travelling with us.

‘Perhaps your sorceress would dine with us tonight, Gallia,’ said Axsen as sweat poured down my neck and soaked my shirt. I would have to have words with Vata about getting married in the middle of a Mesopotamian summer.

‘I can ask her,’ replied Gallia.

‘I doubt she will agree,’ I said. ‘She hates the heat and she hates travelling, which means she is as ill-tempered as a angry viper at the moment.’

‘Is she really a sorceress?’ asked Axsen.

‘She is beloved of the gods,’ replied Gallia.

‘She predicted that you and Orodes would be married,’ I added.

‘And she saw Pacorus in danger when Narses and Mithridates had him surrounded and sent Gallia to rescue him,’ offered Praxima.

I grinned at Nergal’s wife. ‘Thank you for reminding me of that.’

‘I must meet her,’ implored Axsen.

‘Why don’t you visit us when we have made camp tonight,’ said Gallia. ‘I fear she will ignore any invites to a feast.’

Axsen was delighted. ‘We will come. How exciting.’

I was exhausted by the time we had travelled a grand distance of fifteen miles in the stupefying heat, and by the end of the day my clothes were drenched in sweat and I felt both tired and irritable. The Durans made camp well away from the large pavilion that housed Babylon’s royal couple, though Nergal and Praxima pitched their tent close to ours. The squires erected our tent first, which was similar to Domitus’ command tent to accommodate the children; then Dobbai’s, a black camel hair affair that was like the Agraci tents; and then put up the tents of the cataphracts. As usual the latter were laid out in a neat row with the squires’ own tents pitched in another row immediately behind.

Despite dozing in their hammocks the children were exhausted by the journey and fell asleep almost immediately after we had eaten a meal of salted mutton, water and biscuits. The night was very warm though mercifully not intolerably hot and a slight easterly breeze was most welcome. After the children had been settled Dobbai relaxed with Gallia and me in front of her tent. We sat on stools while she reclined in her favourite wicker chair that she had ordered Marcus to pack on the wagon. For the journey Dobbai had half a dozen stable hands from the Citadel to attend her, drive her wagon, ensure none of my children fell off it during the day and water and feed the mules. The boys walked beside the wagon during the day, taking it in turns to drive it. They were beside themselves with joy when Dobbai gave each of them a piece of red coral, an ancient talisman to protect the wearer from evil spirits.

Orodes and Axsen appeared out of the darkness an hour later with a score of guards, half of them carrying torches. Axsen was dressed in a simple purple shirt and tan leggings, Orodes in his silver scale armour cuirass and sword at his hip. Dobbai’s eyes were closed as we embraced them and their guards retreated from our presence. Axsen grinned girlishly at Gallia and then looked at the seemingly sleeping Dobbai.

The oil lamps flickered faintly in the slight breeze as we all regarded the apparently dozing Dobbai, who suddenly spoke without opening her eyes.

‘Cannot an old woman get any peace in this world?’

Axsen moved two steps towards her, Orodes remaining a few paces behind.

‘Forgive us, lady, we did not mean to interrupt your evening.’

Dobbai opened her eyes and looked at Axsen.

‘Of course you did. Why else would you bring a host of soldiers with you to make a noise like a herd of bulls if not to disturb me?’

Axsen was taken aback, not least because she was unused to being spoken to thus by anyone, least of all an old crone. Axsen ignored Dobbai’s impertinence and smiled.

‘Your name is known throughout the empire, lady, and I would like to make your acquaintance.’

Dobbai grunted. ‘You want something from me, Queen of Babylon. What is it?’

Axsen glanced nervously at Orodes who shrugged, and then looked back at Dobbai.

‘They say that the gods reveal the future to you.’

Dobbai leaned forward in her chair. ‘They reveal things that will come to pass and other things that may come to pass. What of it?’

Axsen smiled at Orodes. ‘I heard that you predicted my marriage to Orodes.’

Dobbai pointed at Orodes. ‘Step forward, King of Babylon, so that I may see you both together.’

Orodes moved to Axsen’s side and held his wife’s hand. Then Dobbai looked at me and nodded.

‘They have a regal appearance, I grant you that. There are worse choices you could make.’

‘I do not understand,’ I said.

Dobbai cackled. ‘Of course not, but it does not matter.’

She looked at Axsen and Orodes again. ‘You have a crown, Queen of Babylon?’

Axsen looked quizzically at her. ‘Of course, I am a queen.’

‘You will be leaving Babylon and will require it no longer.’

The colour drained from Axsen’s face and Orodes looked most concerned.

‘Is Babylon in danger?’ he asked.

Dobbai frowned. ‘Did I say that? All I said was that your wife will not need Babylon’s crown much longer. She will have a new one to wear.’

Now Axsen was intrigued. ‘What crown?’

Dobbai waved her hand at her. ‘All will be revealed. Did you know that the King of Dura has no crown? Is that not correct, son of Hatra?’

‘It is true,’ I replied. ‘I have never seen the need.’

Dobbai began to rise from her chair, whereupon Orodes walked forward and assisted her to her feet.

‘Thank you, Orodes. I always knew you would make a good king and now you stand on the brink of becoming one.’

Orodes smiled at her. ‘You are mistaken.’

‘He is already a king,’ said Axsen.

‘Not until the son of Hatra makes him so,’ replied Dobbai. ‘And now I am tired and bid you goodnight.’

She turned and shuffled into her tent. She stopped and pointed at Axsen.

‘And you will make a good queen.’ And then she disappeared into the tent and closed the camel hair flap.

Axsen was confused and slightly disappointed while Orodes whispered to me that he believed that Dobbai’s senses were failing her.

‘She did not realise that I was the King of Babylon,’ he said. ‘How sad it is when old age addles us so. Alas for Dobbai.’

It took us twelve days to reach Hatra and on the last day of our journey Vistaspa, accompanied by two hundred of my father’s bodyguard, met us ten miles from the city. He informed me that we were the last of the wedding guests to arrive and would we mind riding through the southern gates of the city to the palace quarter that was located in the north. My father wanted to impress the inhabitants with a show of strength, and also the many merchants and foreign traders in the city, including a few Romans. In this way news would spread far and wide of the assembly of kings at Hatra.

No doubt my father also intended to send a message to Ctesiphon, Syria and Armenia of the gathering strength at Hatra, and was using Vata’s wedding as a statement of intent. However, it was still intolerably hot and the cataphracts sweated in their full-face helmets and scale armour on the morning we rode towards the city’s southern entrance. Pennants sporting the red griffin flew from every kontus and every Amazon wore her helmet with its cheekguards tied shut. Because I was the heir to Hatra’s throne my cataphracts rode in the vanguard. Next came the royal party of Gallia, myself, Axsen, Orodes, Nergal and Praxima, the latter wearing her Amazon uniform. Behind us were our banners and next trundled the wagon carrying Dobbai and my children and behind that the Babylonian guard. Nergal’s horse archers brought up the rear. The squires and camels remained in camp but would be relocated later that day to outside the city’s northern gates, nearer to the palace quarter.

On the wooden bridge spanning the great moat that surrounded Hatra stood soldiers of the garrison, with more lining the route from the gatehouse through the streets to the royal quarter — men wearing bronze helmets with white crests, round shields faced with bronze, leather cuirasses fitted with iron scales and leather greaves. The soldiers had difficulty holding back the cheering crowds as our column made its way to the palace, Claudia and Isabella peering from the back of the wagon and waving at the multitude.

We finally arrived at the royal square that stood between the limestone palace and the Great Temple, also called the Sun Temple, dedicated to Shamash. We left the heaving crowds at the gates to the palace quarter, which like the Citadel at Dura was surrounded by its own walls. The difference was that at Dura the Citadel was squat and compact whereas the royal quarter at Hatra was grand and expansive. As well as housing the palace it also contained the mansions of the kingdom’s nobility — I knew that Lord Herneus had a great house here — the royal armouries, stables, barracks and granaries. It was no exaggeration to say that ten of Dura’s Citadels could easily be accommodated within the walls of Hatra’s royal quarter.

Today the square was filled with the nobles and their families as the king’s son and his friends came to a halt before the steps of the palace. Servants came forward to hold the reins of our horses as we dismounted. The stable hands assisted my children from the wagon and Dobbai passed a crying Eszter to Gallia and then stepped down from the rear of the wagon. The square echoed with polite applause as I walked beside Gallia to the foot of the steps, flanked by Orodes and Axsen on my right and Nergal and Praxima on our left. However, there were also murmurs as Dobbai, Claudia and a bashful Isabella clutching her hand, followed us immediately behind. I too was surprised, though not by Dobbai, as standing on the steps were several individuals I had not expected to see at Hatra. My father and mother stood in the centre of the group, Gafarn and Diana and the young Spartacus beside them. Then came Vata and Adeleh and Atrax and Aliyeh. Aschek and his wife Ona stood next to the rulers of Media and beyond them were Surena and Viper. If I was surprised to see the new governor of Gordyene I was astounded to see King Khosrou and his queen, Tara, standing on the other end of the line of royalty, alongside King Musa of Hyrcania and his wife Queen Sholeh. At the foot of the steps, to my right, stood Assur, high priest of the temple, with a dozen of his white-robed subordinates. Now in his mid-seventies, he was still tall though very thin and his beard, formerly bushy, was noticeably thinner. He glared at Dobbai as she bared her teeth at him and his priests as she walked up the stone steps.

After I had greeted my father and mother we walked with them inside the palace as our horses were taken to the stables. The voluminous palace with its marble floors and great stone columns was pleasantly cool as we made our way to our apartments, my mother continually glancing behind at Dobbai.

‘You have brought the sorceress, Pacorus?’

‘She insisted on coming.’

‘Why?’

‘I have no idea,’ I replied. ‘More to the point, what are Khosrou and Musa doing here?’

‘All will be revealed,’ answered my father.

I had nodded to Khosrou and Musa when I alighted the palace steps but I had no opportunity that day to speak to them. After our journey we were exhausted and spent the afternoon relaxing while nursemaids attended to our children. Dobbai demanded to be shown to her quarters, after which she locked the doors of her room and was not seen until the following morning.

The three days before the wedding were filled with inspections of the garrison, tours of the walls, archery competitions, banquets and visits to the mansions of influential nobles. All very tedious and which diverted me from my aim of speaking at length to Khosrou and Musa concerning their presence at Hatra. I did succeed in speaking to Surena, though, when I ordered him to my quarters on the first morning after our arrival in the city. He told me that he had received an invitation from my father to attend Vata’s wedding and that not to be present would be an insult to the man who had done so much to support his war effort in Gordyene.

‘The wording of the letter was most insistent, lord,’ he said.

‘I can imagine.’

‘It is wise to keep the King of Hatra happy, lord, I think.’

I smiled at him. ‘I think you are right, Surena.’

‘Does Hatra wish to rule Gordyene, lord? Is that why I have been brought here.’

‘You know, Surena, at this moment in time I am as ignorant as you are regarding this matter. How are the Armenians?’

He smiled. ‘Still licking their wounds. I have heard that their king….’

‘Tigranes?’

‘Yes, lord. I have heard that he is sick.’

‘He will recover,’ I told him, ‘and when he does he will be looking to retake Gordyene.’

‘We are ready, lord.’

I did manage to avoid any appointments the morning before the wedding and took myself down to the poor quarter of the city where once Byrd had briefly lived, making a living by selling pots before I had persuaded him to accompany me to Dura. I stood before the one-roomed shop he had rented that fronted the grubby square. A wooden bench still stood before the room, though instead of Byrd’s pots it was piled high with sandals. There were around fifty people in the square inspecting and haggling over the products on display around its sides. I walked over to the sandal seller, a man in his early twenties with lank hair and sores on his hands who was arranging his goods. Behind him was a woman who looked twice her early years holding a naked infant with a dirty face. I picked up a pair of sandals as the man watched me, obviously confused why someone who wore expensive leather boots would be looking at poorer quality footwear. His wife looked at me with sorrowful eyes.

‘How much?’ I asked.

‘Three obols, sir,’ he replied.

Half a drachma — the daily wage of an unskilled worker.

‘I’ll take them.’ I took the leather pouch hanging from my belt and emptied a hundred drachmas on the table.

‘A fair price,’ I said.

He looked in disbelief at the pile of money on the table.

‘It is too much, sir.’

I looked at his miserable hovel and impoverished family and thought of the rich food and wine that would be consumed tomorrow at Vata’s wedding and of the great wealth that existed in this city, just a short distance away.

‘I knew the man who worked here once. I am forever in his debt. This is a way of repaying but a small part of it. But for an accident of birth our positions might have been reversed. How strange is fate do you not think?’

‘Sir?’

‘It does not matter. Keep the money.’

The wedding of Vata and Adeleh took place in the temple, the great building packed with kings, queens, nobles and their wives, and afterwards there was a huge feast in the palace. It was good to see Vata’s big round face wearing a smile again and I was genuinely happy for him and my sister. So now all my parents’ children were married. I had thought that Adeleh, being in her thirties, would remain single but now she went with her new husband back to Nisibus to begin her new life as the wife of Hatra’s northern governor, who had been created Prince of Nisibus in honour of his entering the royal family. I watched my mother wipe tears from her eyes as she bid her daughter farewell the day after the wedding.

With the marriage out of the way I was determined to finally speak to Khosrou at length about his campaign against the northern nomads, but I was again thwarted when Gallia and I received a summons from my father to attend him in his throne room that afternoon. My curiosity was aroused when Nergal and Praxima informed me that they had also been requested to attend my father. When we arrived I discovered that in addition to the dais upon which my father and mother sat as the rulers of Hatra, seven other temporary platforms had been erected in the great chamber in two lines extending from the permanent dais. Behind each one hung great banners carrying the symbols of the kings who would sit on each one: the red griffin of Dura, the double-headed lion sceptre crossed with a sword of Mesene, the horned bull of Babylon, the sun symbol of Margiana, the Caspian tiger of Hyrcania, the Shahbaz, the mythical bird of Atropaiene, and the white dragon of Media.

My father and mother were already on their thrones when Gallia and I were shown to our places along with Surena and Viper who sat down behind Gallia and me. Next to my father sat Gafarn, who nodded to me, and flanking my mother was Diana who smiled and waved at Gallia. Kogan’s guards stood every five paces around the walls while others stood in front of the great doors at its entrance. As Khosrou and his wife took their seats on their dais there was a commotion at the doors and I recognised the voice of Dobbai haranguing the guards. Kogan also heard it and left his place beside my father’s dais to see what was going on.

‘I will have entry,’ I heard Dobbai shout to the four guards who barred her way with spears.

‘Get the old witch out of here,’ ordered Kogan.

‘No,’ I shouted, ‘let her pass.’

Kogan stopped and turned to look at my father. I walked across to where the guards stood before Dobbai.

‘Put down your weapons and let her through,’ I commanded.

They knew that I was the heir to Hatra’s throne and yet they hesitated to move out of the way. They took orders from Kogan and my father, not from me.

‘Do not force me to draw my own sword,’ I threatened them.

I turned to look at Kogan who in turn looked at my father for guidance. A disapproving Assur leaned on his staff as all eyes in the hall fell on me. Orodes was frowning and Khosrou seemed mildly amused. My father nodded to Kogan.

‘Stand down and let her through,’ he ordered.

The guards moved away from Dobbai as she shuffled into the chamber and held up her arm for me to take.

‘I hope the chairs are comfortable,’ she said loudly enough for everyone to hear as I escorted her over to my platform. ‘The conversation of kings can be long and tedious and my back is old and frail.’

I gave her my large wicker chair that was stuffed with cushions as I stood next to her and waited for another to be brought. Assur went over to my father and said something into his ear, pointing at Dobbai as he did so, but my father shook his head and waved him away. Directly opposite us sat Atrax and Aliyeh, my sister curling her lip at the ugly old woman she now had to look at during the meeting, while Aschek and Musa were busy grinning at each other and pointing at Dobbai as she rearranged the cushions and settled herself in her chair. Fortunately there was room on our crowded dais to accommodate another chair and the five of us sat and waited for my father to speak. Normally only kings would have been invited to such gatherings, but he knew that Gallia would not have countenanced being excluded and neither would Praxima, and in any case Orodes would have been loathe to exclude Axsen from the proceedings so besotted was he with her. And in any case she had been the ruler of Babylon before their marriage. Thus all the wives of the kings had been invited though none was expected to contribute.

The doors were closed and my father rose from his throne and stepped from his dais. He stood on the tiled floor and looked at each of the kings in turn before he spoke.

‘My friends, I asked you here because the empire is in great peril. The days of the eighteen kingdoms under the great King of Kings Sinatruces are long gone, and with them the peace, stability and respect for the law that his reign brought and which made the empire strong. Now we have unending war: war with external enemies and war within the empire itself. Last year King of Kings Mithridates launched a war against those of us who sit in this chamber, rulers who had hitherto been loyal and true towards Ctesiphon.’

He held out a hand to me.

‘Others among us have been banished from the empire and their kingdoms traded with our enemies like cheap goods in a market. Only because of the King of Dura’s battlefield skills does his kingdom remain Parthian.’

I smiled at my father.

‘Now Hatra refuses to pay any tribute to Ctesiphon in retaliation for the aggression waged against it by the high king. My fellow kings from Atropaiene, Babylon, Mesene and Media adopt a similar stance.’ He tipped his head at Musa and Khosrou. ‘My brothers the rulers of Margiana and Hyrcania have just returned from a long campaign in the northern wastes against the steppe nomads whom formerly they were at peace with. How bitter must have been the news that gold from Ctesiphon had paid the nomads to attack them.’

I was saddened but not surprised by this revelation; after all, Mithridates had encouraged the Romans to invade Dura. He had now done the same with the northern nomads.

My father continued. ‘The mighty armies of Margiana and Hyrcania have, after more than two years of bloody and constant fighting, cowed the northern barbarians and once more their borders are quiet.

‘But I ask all of you this: how long will it be before our kingdoms are once again attacked, by the Armenians, the Romans, the northern barbarians or by King Narses acting on the orders of Mithridates? An empire that is divided encourages external enemies to be bold. But an empire that is united earns respect and deters aggression.’

‘What you say is true, King Varaz. But how do you propose to remedy the dire situation the empire finds itself in?’ asked Khosrou.

‘How, Khosrou? The removal of Mithridates,’ he replied before retaking his throne.

I reached over to grip Gallia’s arm.

‘Finally,’ I whispered.

‘Stay silent, son of Hatra,’ hissed Dobbai, ‘lest you appear too keen on further bloodshed.’

I kept my counsel as the hall fell silent. Orodes shifted nervously in his seat and Atrax appeared thoughtful while Nergal looked solemn. It was Musa who spoke first. Everything about the King of Hyrcania was large — his round face, his frame wrapped in a great white robe edged with red and gold and his bear-like hands. He rose from his chair and spread his paws out wide.

‘When I received your invitation, Varaz, I knew that I was not coming to Hatra just for a wedding feast, agreeable though it was I have to say. Hyrcania has always been a loyal kingdom to the empire but now that loyalty has been repaid by treachery. Therefore Hyrcania will stand with Hatra in this matter. Let us be rid of Mithridates and make the empire strong again.’

Musa sat down and looked at Khosrou. The King of Margiana, dressed in a simple green shirt, black leggings and tan leather boots, was the opposite of Musa in appearance with his slim frame, hawk-like nose and narrow eyes. He had a long white moustache and white pointed beard that matched the colour of his hair. He stroked his beard before slowly rising from his chair like an angry cobra.

‘I agree with Varaz that the empire, much less Margiana, cannot withstand more conflict, though removing Mithridates, agreeable as it that may be, will require more bloodshed. I am prepared to draw my sword to achieve this end, but there is still one question that remains unanswered. Who will replace him? At the Council of Kings, Varaz, you stated before all the other rulers that you had no wish to wear the high crown.’

‘That is still the case,’ said my father.

Khosrou sat back down. ‘Then what? We cannot be rid of one tyrant only for another, Narses most likely, to take his place.’

‘Perhaps that issue can wait,’ replied my father. ‘I would first know where the others here assembled stand on the issue of removing Mithridates.’

I saw Axsen look at Orodes and nod at him. He rose from his chair. ‘Babylon has suffered grievously from the aggression of Mithridates and Narses, and would support Hatra, Margiana and Hyrcania in their plans. But speaking personally I would also desire that the matter of who replaces Mithridates be settled at this assembly.’

I smiled. Orodes — ever the stickler for procedure!

Nergal rose nervously and added his support to my father’s scheme. That was never in doubt as he was formerly an officer in my father’s army and he still had family members living in Hatra. Atrax also pledged Media’s support to my father’s venture. Aschek rose from his chair and announced that he too was willing to support my father, though with the proviso that Atropaiene had suffered grievously the previous year and therefore would not be able to supply any troops to march against Mithridates.

There was only my voice yet to be heard.

‘What does the King of Dura have to say for himself?’ asked my father.

I began to rise and noticed that Dobbai had her eyes closed and appeared to be asleep. So much for the great decisions that were being taken in this hall! I nodded towards her, rolled my eyes at Gallia and stepped onto the floor.

‘You all know my opinion of Mithridates and Narses. It is no secret that I have never accepted the former as the empire’s high king. I fully support my father’s plan and would march against Ctesiphon tomorrow if I could.’

Musa burst out laughing and Khosrou smiled. I went to retake my seat but Khosrou called after me.

‘Wait. Why should not Pacorus be king of kings?’

I stopped dead and turned to face him, somewhat taken aback. Khosrou stood up.

‘I propose the King of Dura to be the empire’s new high king.’

Musa clapped his bear’s paws and roared with laughter.

‘I second that proposal,’ he bellowed. ‘The empire could do worse.’

Such a ringing endorsement!

I raised my hand to protest but then Nergal jumped up. ‘Mesene also wishes King Pacorus to sit in Ctesiphon.’

I frowned at Nergal but Praxima cheered with delight, as did Viper and Gallia. Aschek then stood.

‘Pacorus has proven himself to be a brave and honourable king. If Varaz does not want the high crown then I say his son should wear it.’

‘I agree,’ added Atrax. ‘I have fought beside Pacorus and know him to be worthy of the high crown.’

I could see that Aliyeh was horrified by the idea that I should become king of kings.

But Orodes added Babylon’s support to my becoming king of kings. My father looked at each of the kings in turn and then at me and smiled. My mother clasped her hands to her face, tears of joy in her eyes.

‘It would appear that nearly half the empire’s kings desire you to be the man to lead Parthia, my son. Very well. Hatra will support this wish.’

‘It is settled, then,’ said Khosrou.

‘It shall not be!’

Dobbai’s voice filled the chamber to still all others. She opened her eyes and stared at me.

‘Sit down, son of Hatra, and stop preening yourself like a peacock.’

Assur and Kogan glowered at her interruption while Gafarn laughed at her rudeness. My mother looked at my father who merely shook his head despairingly. Dobbai pointed at my empty chair to indicate that I should sit in it as she lifted herself up and stepped from the dais. Assur pointed at her with his staff.

‘This harridan has no authority to speak in this hallowed place. Her presence violates this august hall.’

Kogan made to pull his sword but I drew myself up and placed my hand on the hilt of my sword and glared at him. He stopped and looked at my father who waved him back. I regained my seat.

‘I may be a harridan but I know the will of the gods,’ Dobbai said to Assur. ‘Can you say the same, old man?’

Assur’s cheeks coloured with anger and his nostrils flared but my father stood and held up a hand to him.

‘We all know who you are,’ he said, ‘so if you have come to this meeting to reveal what the gods desire then speak the words and have done with it.’

Dobbai bowed mockingly to him. ‘Short and to the point, King of Hatra. If only you had displayed such forcefulness years ago when Sinatruces died you would have prevented the shedding of an ocean of blood.’

‘We should have thrown you on his pyre,’ shouted Musa.

Aliyeh laughed and Khosrou smirked.

‘But you did not,’ Dobbai shot back, ‘and now I say to you that the son of Hatra, the king who has no crown, shall wear no crown. It is not his destiny to rule the empire.’

‘If we desire him to be king of kings,’ growled Khosrou, ‘it shall be so.’

Dobbai bared her teeth at him. ‘If you go against the will of the gods they will send the numberless hordes of the northern steppes against your kingdom to sweep you away, Khosrou, so great will be their wrath. You think you have defeated them? I tell you that your kingdom will be eradicated from the earth if you defy the immortal ones.’

He waved his hand dismissively at her.

Aschek leaned forward. ‘Then, woman, can you tell us whom the gods desire to be high king?’

‘The heir of Sinatruces, of course,’ she replied before walking back to her chair.

Musa roared with laughter once more. ‘The old crone’s brains are addled. Phraates is long dead.’

Dobbai caught my eye as she eased herself onto the cushions and nodded. I understood and rose from my chair once more.

‘My lords, what Dobbai has said is true. Sinatruces ruled the empire before the crown passed to his son Phraates, who was basely murdered by Mithridates. But Phraates had another son, a man who has endured exile from his own lands and who has fought by my side for many years. He wears the crown of Babylon now but I propose that we should today elect King Orodes to wear the high crown.’

Musa looked at Khosrou with a perplexed expression. My father rubbed his nose with a finger and Orodes was rendered speechless. And yet it made perfect sense. Orodes was known to all those present as a brave and honourable man who had always conducted himself with the utmost propriety.

‘Can any among you think of a man with more self-restraint, honour and sense of justice than Orodes?’ I said. ‘I cannot. Nor can I think of anyone better to unite the empire in the aftermath of Mithridates’ removal.’

‘And what does Orodes think of my son’s proposal?’ asked my father.

Everyone turned their attention to Orodes, who to his credit retained his composure as Axsen grinned at him and he rose from his chair. He held out a hand to me as Dobbai closed her eyes once more.

‘My friend, King Pacorus, is most gracious and magnanimous in proposing me for the high crown. May I first state that I have never coveted the throne at Ctesiphon, being content to fulfil my duties as a prince of Susiana. Furthermore…’

‘Do you want the crown or not?’ queried Musa, clearly becoming bored by the whole business.

Orodes smiled at him and continued, unruffled. ‘If the kings gathered in this hall unanimously desire me to be king of kings then I will accept their nomination.’

I stood. ‘Dura supports Orodes.’

In turn Nergal, Khosrou, Musa, Aschek and Atrax all stood and pledged their support to Orodes, which left only my father to voice his opinion. He looked at Gafarn who nodded, then stood and smiled at Orodes.

‘Hail Orodes, King of Kings!’

We all gave a cheer, though I suspect Musa’s cry was relief that proceedings were coming to a close. My father held up his hands.

‘We shall have Orodes proclaimed king of kings in the Great Temple tomorrow before Shamash so that all the empire may know our determination in this matter.’

Everyone clapped at these words, me the loudest. Orodes held up a hand to still the noise.

‘My lords, it seems we have forgotten one matter that needs redress.’

‘And what would that be?’ asked my father.

‘Gordyene,’ he answered.

I sat down as Dobbai continued to listen with her eyes closed.

Musa was most confused. ‘Gordyene. What about it? Pacorus holds it.’

Orodes smiled at him. ‘Quite so, King Musa, but Gordyene has always been a separate kingdom within the empire, ruled by its own king. But it is now ruled by Dura.’

Orodes turned to me.

‘Do you intend to make Gordyene your own, Pacorus?’

‘I do not,’ I replied.

‘Then it needs its own king, as in the time of the eighteen kingdoms.’ Orodes nodded at my father.

‘Balas left no heirs, Orodes,’ said my father. ‘You know this.’

‘Then as soon-to-be king of kings I have the power to select a new ruler for the kingdom if my memory regarding the powers of the high king serves me right.’

Strictly speaking Orodes was not yet king of kings, but he had obviously been giving the matter of Gordyene’s throne some thought and now had the opportunity to turn it into reality. The other kings, myself included, did not see the point of discussing Gordyene here but Orodes appeared insistent and so we all sat down again.

‘Can we have some refreshments, Varaz?’ asked Musa. ‘My belly thinks my throat has been slit.’

My mother and the other queens winced at his coarse language but Khosrou and Atrax laughed. My father ordered wine and food to be brought from the kitchens and in the interlude before refreshments arrived Orodes continued to speak about the throne of Gordyene.

‘Have you another brother we do not know about?’ asked Khosrou.

‘No, my lord.’

‘Then who do you have in mind to rule Gordyene?’ queried Atrax, whose own kingdom shared a border with Gordyene and who thus had a keen interest in knowing the identity of its ruler.

Orodes turned and smiled at Surena who was whispering into the ear of a giggling Viper.

‘The man who conquered Gordyene and in so doing has returned it to the Parthian Empire. I propose Surena, the resent governor of Gordyene.’

‘Who?’ asked Musa as he gratefully took a large cup of wine offered to him by a slave.

Dobbai opened her eyes and smiled mischievously at me. ‘You never saw that coming, did you?’

Indeed I did not and nor did Surena, who appeared shocked as I turned to look at him. Gallia rolled her eyes and my father seemed most surprised, but Viper grasped the significance of Orodes’ words and jumped up to hug her husband and kiss him with delight. No wonder, for she had also just been made a queen!

‘Surena is a man who had proved himself to be a resourceful and intelligent commander who single-handedly expelled the Armenians from Gordyene, and in so doing made the kingdoms of Hatra and Media,’ Orodes held out his hand to my father and Atrax in turn as he stepped onto the floor, ‘more secure. Step forward, Surena.’

For once Surena was lost for words as he hesitantly stood up and then left the dais to stand beside Orodes, who was quickly slipping into his new role.

‘Does anyone here object to Surena becoming the king of Gordyene?’

Khosrou and Musa had little interest in the affairs of a kingdom that lay four hundred miles west of Hyrcania and a thousand miles from Merv, Khosrou’s capital, so they both shrugged with indifference, Musa draining his cup, belching and then holding it out to be refilled. Nergal was nodding and grinning at Surena while Praxima was smiling at Viper. It was certainly a triumph for the Amazons. Aschek looked at my father who now rose.

‘King Orodes, I think you will agree that the elevation of this young man to the office of king is unusual to say the least. That said, we live in unusual times and having just elected you to the high crown I will not contradict your first decision as king of kings.’

‘Nor I,’ agreed Aschek.

‘I have fought beside Surena,’ declared Atrax, ‘and know that he will make a worthy king.’ He had obviously changed his opinion regarding a mere squire attaining high command, though his wife was regarding Surena with open disdain.

‘That just leaves your opinion, Pacorus,’ said my father.

I turned to look at Viper who had regained her seat. I smiled at her and then stood.

‘Dura supports the election of Surena, one of its most valiant sons, to the throne of Gordyene, safe in the knowledge that he will be a great Parthian ruler.’

And so it was that Surena, formerly a stripling of the Ma’adan, became a Parthian king.

The following day Assur proclaimed Orodes king of kings in the Great Temple at Hatra and I began to think about the campaign to topple Mithridates. Soon he would know that his stepbrother had been proclaimed high king and would be forced to take action, and once again Narses would bring his armies west across the Tigris.

‘Except that he will not,’ declared my father as I sat with the other kings in the large study beside his throne room two days after Orodes was declared high king. Despite the heat outside the room was cool and well ventilated courtesy of the wind catchers on the roof of the palace. These towers ‘caught’ the desert wind in vents and then directed it down into the palace to keep the air flowing and thus the building cool. In the blistering heat of the summer light bamboo screens were placed over the vents and doused with water to cool the air passing into the rooms below. All the buildings in the royal quarter were equipped with these wind catchers, even the royal stables, to make living conditions more bearable.

The mood was relaxed as my father explained to all of us present the outline of his plan. As he spoke I realised that he had been thinking of this campaign for many months after it had become clear that Mithridates and Narses had declared war on him. Like the other kings my father was a man who above all believed in stability and continuity. I knew that my hatred for Mithridates and the strife that this had engendered had upset him deeply and had created a gulf between us that only now had been spanned. The kings of Hatra had always been fiercely loyal to the empire and the king of kings but now that loyalty had been thrown back into my father’s face. Unlike me he had not reacted instantly and marched his army against Ctesiphon. Rather, he had bided his time, gathered allies and prepared a carefully worked-out project. This plan he now laid before us. It was ambitious in scope and aim.

The main thrust would comprise the combined might of Dura, Hatra, Babylon, Media and Gordyene striking across the Tigris after having first taken Seleucia.

‘We will need your siege engines for that task, Pacorus.’

‘The walls of Seleucia will fall easily enough, father, have no fear.’

‘Then we will seize Ctesiphon,’ continued my father, ‘before marching southeast to capture Susa and then Persepolis. Before then I expect to engage Mithridates and Narses in battle and defeat them.

‘At the same time Musa and Khosrou will threaten to advance from the north with their combined armies against the kingdoms of Yueh-Chih, Aria, Anauon and Drangiana. The rulers of those kingdoms have for years provided Mithridates with support and soldiers for their ventures against us.’

I was confused. ‘Threaten to advance, father?’

He smiled and nodded at Khosrou.

‘They have supported Mithridates and Narses, as your father has said,’ agreed Khosrou, ‘but my spies have told me that they have no stomach for another great war. Musa and I may achieve by diplomacy what you will have to accomplish with arms.’

Aschek was far from convinced. ‘You really think they will stand aside and do nothing when Narses sends his summons to them.’

‘If they don’t then we will lay waste their lands,’ said Musa.

‘It is as my brother says,’ added Khosrou gravely.

My father turned to Nergal. ‘If he is agreeable I would like the King of Mesene to stand on the defensive during the first part of the campaign until we have taken Susa. With his army protecting the crossing of the Tigris near Umma, the enemy will not be able to send raiding parties across the river to strike at Mesene and southern Babylonia. Thereafter we would welcome the addition of his troops to our army.’

Nergal nodded. My father turned to Aschek.

‘My old friend, your kingdom has suffered the most during the deprivations of the enemy last year, and so to you I would like to entrust the safety of Hatra, Media and Gordyene. Vata will stay at Nisibus to secure my northern frontier and,’ he looked at Surena, ‘I assume troops will be left in Gordyene to secure that kingdom.’

Surena nodded solemnly.

‘But,’ continued my father, ‘I would feel more comfortable knowing that the army of Atropaiene also guards the north.’

This was a clever strategy. Unlike Atrax, Aschek was not a great warrior and had little appetite for campaigning beyond his realm. In addition, Atropaiene had been devastated the previous year and so it made sense to leave what was left of its army as a reserve upon which Aliyeh and Vata could call upon.

‘Who will you leave in Gordyene?’ I asked Surena.

‘Silaces, lord.’

I smiled at him. ‘You do not have to call me lord, Surena. You too are a king now.’

My father looked at Orodes. ‘It only remains for you, highness, to give your assent to this endeavour.’

‘I know that you do not undertake this venture likely, King Varaz,’ replied Orodes slowly and forcefully, ‘but I think it is a most excellent scheme and I fully endorse it.’

‘Soon you will be sitting in Ctesiphon, my friend,’ I said, ‘and after that you will be able to take Axsen on an inspection of Susa and the Kingdom of Susiana.’

I left Hatra in high spirits as we made our way back to Dura. At long last the final showdown with Narses and Mithridates would take place and I was very confident that it would have a favourable outcome. Not only had a strong alliance been forged but the empire also had a proper king of kings and not an upstart murderer. Our trip to Hatra had been leisurely and had been accompanied by Nergal and Orodes, but now they hastened back south to their respective kingdoms to prepare for the forthcoming campaign. Just one more battle and then we would have peace in the empire.

The journey back to Dura was uneventful though Dobbai was unusually quiet. On the third day after we had left Hatra I was riding behind her wagon as Claudia and Isabella threw pieces of biscuit at Remus in an attempt to make him throw me off his back.

‘He has had far worse things launched at him than a few pieces of biscuit,’ I told them.

‘Does Remus like being your horse?’ asked Claudia.

‘Of course,’ I answered, ‘because he travels far and wide and sees many new things.’

Isabella threw another piece of biscuit at his head and laughed.

‘When will he be going away again?’

‘Soon,’ I answered. ‘He will be travelling far into the east.’

Isabella smiled at me. ‘Why?’

‘Because I have important business there, but after it has finished I will return and Remus and I will be staying at Dura for a long time.’

Dobbai raised an eyebrow at me. ‘You are pleased with the way events have turned out, son of Hatra?’

‘Of course,’ I answered. ‘The final battle approaches, one that I intend to win.’

‘Are you disappointed that you are not king of kings?’

I shook my head. ‘No. I have never coveted that position. In any case Orodes is far more suitable than I could ever be.’

‘You must take care,’ she said. ‘There is death beyond the Tigris, I have seen it. It would be more advisable to let Mithridates and Narses come to you.’

I dismissed the idea. ‘No. For too long we have reacted to events and it has achieved nothing. Now we have a chance to take the war to the enemy and finish what should have been finished years ago.’

‘Then let us hope that you return.’

‘I always return,’ I boasted.

The period following our return to Dura was largely uneventful save for numerous proclamations from Ctesiphon denouncing all those who had gathered at Hatra to acclaim Orodes. Mithridates banished us all and sentenced each king, his queen and children and any who supported them to death. This made me even happier as it meant there was no stepping back from the brink: Mithridates had declared war on eight kings of the empire, including the newly created ruler of Gordyene.

Dura’s army was ready to march at a moment’s notice but the forces of the other kings, save Hatra, required more time to prepare for the coming campaign. I was not unduly worried about this because I knew that the enemy would be in a similar position.

Therefore, as the army was going to have to wait before it set off, Domitus ordered that the legionaries put on extra weight. This was an old Roman tactic to prepare for a campaign, the reasoning being that a long offensive could be wearing on even the most physically fit body and so every man should take the opportunity to bulk up before it commenced. In addition, the most secure way to transport supplies on campaign is as fat around the waist and so the legionaries were ordered to feast like hungry wolves. Marcus organised extra food to be distributed while Domitus reduced the amount of training and drill each legionary undertook. As the garrisons of the forts in the kingdom were reduced to allow the legions to muster, vast amounts of bread, beer, wine, meat and fruit were shipped into the main camp at Dura so the men could pack on extra pounds. The horsemen complained bitterly that the legionaries were receiving special privileges but it was pointed out to them that they were carried on their horses’ backs most of the time and did not require additional weight, which in any case would tax their mounts. Horse archers were required to be lithe and thin to be able to shoot their bows from the saddle in all directions, whereas cataphracts were big men on powerful horses who crushed the enemy with a charge or in the mêlée.

As usual I mustered the lords and again informed them that they would not be accompanying the army, though this time I required them to provide garrisons for the kingdom’s forts that otherwise would be empty. Rsan would be in charge of the kingdom in my and Gallia’s temporary absence, though Spandarat was appointed military commander and ordered to muster five thousand men to garrison the forts; Dura would be guarded by the replacement cohort. It was eight hundred miles from the city to Persepolis, and if we had to march all the way to Narses’ capital to fight him then the army would be away for at least six months. Such a length of time might tempt the Romans to try their luck and seize Dura for themselves. If, however, they knew that the forts at the borders and those further inland, plus the city itself, were garrisoned they would be deterred. And every lord had his own stronghold that was also garrisoned. I called Spandarat to the palace to impress upon him the importance of his role.

‘The forts must be garrisoned at all times, and you should move into the palace while I am away.’

‘Can I wear your crown?’ he grinned.

‘I don’t have one.’

He rubbed his scruffy beard. ‘You know that we held this land before you arrived. Held it against the Agraci and then helped you turn back the Romans. You worry too much.’

I smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I know that, my friend. That is why I have every faith in you. But faith does not fill bellies so I have instructed Aaron that you and your men will be paid the equivalent wages of my horse archers for the time that I am away.’

He rubbed his hands together and smiled. ‘Lovely!’

‘Just keep an eye on Syria. I don’t trust the Romans, but that does not give you licence to launch any cross-border raids against them.’

He looked hurt. ‘Me? It never crossed my mind.’

Before I came to Dura its lords and the Agraci had raided each other’s lands with abandon. Peace had brought stability but old habits die hard and I feared that Spandarat and the other lords might use my prolonged absence as an excuse to pillage Roman Syria.

‘Just don’t stir up a hornets’ nest,’ I ordered him.

But it was not my wild lords who provoked the Romans on the eve of the war with Mithridates and Narses. One morning a pigeon arrived from the northern frontier carrying a message that a Roman official wished to travel to Dura for an audience with me, which I thought highly unusual. Ever since my stand-off with Pompey the Romans had conspicuously ignored both my kingdom and me. I therefore had a message sent back requesting the name and rank of this Roman who was so eager to meet me, at the same time sending another pigeon to Palmyra to ask Byrd and Malik to bring themselves and their scouts to Dura.

I visited Domitus in the now heaving camp after I received a reply back that the Roman in question was a tribune named Marcus Roscius.

‘What does a tribune want with you?’ he asked after he had dismissed two of his own officers of an equivalent rank from his tent.

I sat down in one of the chairs. ‘I have no idea but I think it would be a good idea for you to be present when he arrives.’

Half a dozen of Aaron’s clerks were sitting at his table sifting through parchments.

‘I need your signature, general,’ said one, holding up what appeared to be a long list of items. Domitus sighed heavily as he walked to the table and signed the document.

‘I have been reduced to a clerk,’ he complained.

‘Organisation is a necessary evil,’ I told him.

He shook his head. ‘Or just evil, perhaps.’

‘So, you will be at the palace when the Roman arrives?’

He scratched his head. ‘If I must. When does he arrive?’

‘I have ordered him to wait at the frontier until I have more information about him. I will inform you when he is due at the Citadel.’

I kept the tribune waiting at the border for five more days until Byrd and Malik had arrived at Dura. I then allowed Marcus Roscius and his dozen horsemen to ride south to the city. They were escorted by a score of horse archers who had yet to be replaced by the lords’ men, it being more convenient to billet the cavalry far and wide before mustering them in one spot just prior to the army marching. It also meant that there were less men and horses concentrated in and around Dura and therefore less dust hanging over the city.

Unfortunately Byrd knew nothing of our Roman visitor save that he had most likely been sent by the Roman governor of Syria, a man named Aulus Gabinius. Byrd said that the governor was a friend of Pompey who liked expensive living and saw Syria as a way of making himself rich. This alarmed me somewhat as Crassus had once coveted Dura because of the Silk Road that ran through it. Perhaps this Aulus Gabinius desired it as well to enrich himself further.

Before our guests arrived I gave strict instructions that they were to be guarded at all times and kept away from the legionary camp. Any hint that Dura’s army was going to be away from the kingdom would only embolden the Romans. In addition, I told Domitus to increase the guards at the Citadel and at the Palmyrene Gate to convey to our visitors the city’s strength. However, they were to be confined to one of the barracks in the Citadel after they had arrived. I did not want them wandering around picking up any idle gossip about a forthcoming campaign in the east.

The Romans and their escort arrived at noon on a sunny autumn day and were shown to their quarters in the Citadel. From the shadows of the palace’s colonnaded porch I watched them trot into the courtyard. I smiled when I saw their commander, a tall, imposing individual who wore a polished metal helmet with an enormous red crest. He took the helmet off and handed it to one of his men who were all dressed in mail shirts, helmets and carried flat, oval shields and spathas. Their weathered appearance contrasted sharply to the peacock that was their commander. He had short-cropped fair hair and, unsurprisingly, a haughty expression. His bronze muscled cuirass inlaid with silver was magnificent, though, as were his ornate boots decorated with flaps in the form of lions’ heads. His large red cloak pinned to the right shoulder and his white tunic with a narrow purple stripe completed his opulent appearance. I went into the palace as our guests were shown to their accommodation.

An hour later the tribune was escorted into the throne room where Gallia and I awaited him. I had dressed in my Roman leather cuirass, leggings and boots, Gallia in her mail shirt with white tunic. Guards lined the walls of the entrance hall, the throne room, and stood either side of the dais upon which were our thrones. Najya, my falcon that had been a gift from Haytham, rested on my gloved left hand as I fed her slivers of uncooked duck. The steward who was her keeper stood near the entrance to the adjacent guardroom while Domitus stood next to the dais on my right side.

Marcus Roscius, helmet in the crook of his arm, strode purposefully towards us flanked by four guards.

‘Tribune Marcus Roscius,’ announced one.

Roscius bowed to me, then to Gallia and looked in confusion at Domitus dressed in his Roman attire and then at my cuirass that resembled his in design if not in cost.

‘Greetings, tribune,’ I said. ‘What business do you have in Dura?’

‘I am here on behalf of the proconsul of Syria, Aulus Gabinius.’

I fed Najya another piece of meat. Roscius glanced left and right at the guards armed and attired as Romans. He obviously wanted to enquire why they were equipped thus but his sense of protocol would not allow him to say anything.

‘What business is that?’ I asked.

‘It has come to the proconsul’s attention that there is in your city a Jew by the name of Aaron, son of Jacob, who is wanted for crimes committed against Rome.’

I had always admired the Romans for their organisation and efficiency but now those qualities worked against me. Aaron’s excursion to see Rachel and the subsequent excitement had obviously prompted a thorough investigation by the Romans and had led to them sending the tribune who now stood before me. It was unfortunate for me that it was well known that Aaron, son of Jacob, husband to Rachel, was a Jew who was also Dura’s treasurer. I saw nothing to gain by denying Aaron’s presence.

‘What crimes?’ I asked casually.

‘The murder of several Roman soldiers and a Jewish priest,’ replied Roscius stiffly.

I was going to say that it was in fact I, Domitus and Surena who had killed those individuals but decided against it. Roman officers were not noted for their sense of humour.

‘Roman law does not rule in Dura,’ hissed Gallia.

‘Surely, majesty,’ replied Roscius, ‘the law rules in all civilised lands and the punishment of wrongdoers is the concern of all just rulers.’

I gestured to the steward to take Najya back to her aviary.

Gallia’s lip curled slightly. ‘Whether Roman law is civilised is a topic that could be debated at length, but the affairs of Dura are of no concern to Syria.’

‘It is as my queen says,’ I agreed.

‘Failure to surrender this Jew may be construed in some quarters as an affront to Roman goodwill.’

Gallia laughed. ‘I have seen Roman goodwill, tribune, though I doubt the peoples who have been subjugated by it would term it so. Tell me, tribune, is it an offence for a man to defend his homeland against foreign invaders?’

Roscius’ cheeks coloured as he tried to stay calm. ‘It is an offence to murder Roman soldiers, majesty.’

‘Really?’ sneered Gallia. ‘Then you had better take me back to Syria instead of Aaron for I have slaughtered many more than he has.’

Domitus stifled a laugh and Roscius’ nostrils flared at the insult.

‘Tribune Marcus Roscius,’ I said, ‘it is not my intention to insult Rome or your proconsul. But I will not hand over Aaron, son of Jacob, to you, for to do so would betray the faith he has placed in me. Tell me, do you know of my background and that of my queen?’

‘I know it, majesty,’ he replied, a note of contempt in his voice.

‘Then you must have known that your journey here would be a wasted one. I will not surrender a friend and a faithful servant.’

A thin sneer creased his lips. ‘I had heard that the King of Dura was a friend of slaves.’

‘And a slayer of Romans,’ added Gallia.

Roscius bristled at this. ‘I had also heard that he was a man of honour.’

‘I like to think that he is,’ I replied.

‘That being the case, majesty, can a man of honour harbour a murderer?’

I thought for a moment. ‘All those who answer the call of arms are murderers, tribune. But a man’s honour will not allow him to abandon a friend. You know this.’

He shot a glance at Gallia and then looked at me. ‘And that is your final word on the matter, majesty?’

‘It is.’

He bowed his head begrudgingly to me, then ever so slightly to Gallia and then about-faced and marched from the hall, escorted by his four guards. The doors were closed behind him as he entered the reception hall.

‘The arrogance of the Romans knows no bounds,’ growled Gallia.

‘Neither does their memory when it comes to tracking down their enemies,’ said Domitus.

‘You think they will attack Dura?’ I asked.

‘Not over Aaron, no. But the peace that you brokered with Pompey is effectively over. When that tribune reports back to Syria that you have refused his request to hand over Aaron the proconsul will be looking for the slightest pretext to launch a war against Dura.’

‘We’ve beaten Romans before,’ remarked Gallia unconcerned.

But on the eve of the army preparing to march against Mithridates and Narses the last thing I needed was conflict with the Romans. But now it appeared that such a conflict was a certainty.