Carrhae (18 page)

So an eager Domitus told him and Praxima about the night we carried the clay statues down to the banks of the Euphrates, the cold mist that appeared from nowhere and the mystery the next morning when the statues had disappeared.

‘They were probably stolen,’ I said. ‘Someone at the caravan park probably spotted us and waited until we had returned to the palace before taking them.’

‘And made all those scratch marks in the ground?’ retorted Domitus. ‘I don’t think so.’

I looked at him. ‘I thought Romans were a practical people and didn’t believe in myths and monsters.’

‘So we are,’ he said, ‘but like all peoples we like to have the gods on our side.’

‘How many gods do the Romans have?’ asked Kronos.

Domitus put a hand to his chin. ‘Let’s see. Around twenty major gods and fifty minor ones.’

‘Is that all?’ remarked Gallia dryly.

I looked up at the cloudless sky. ‘It is appropriate that the sky is so vast, otherwise there would not be room to accommodate all the gods that people worship.’

‘Aaron’s people believe that there is only one god,’ said Gallia.

‘Aaron?’ said Nergal.

‘My treasurer,’ I replied, ‘and a Jew.’

‘Domitus is a Jew as well,’ added Gallia.

Everyone turned and looked askance at him.

‘I am not!’ he protested. ‘I am married to a Jew, that is all. I have prayed to Mars all my life and I don’t see any reason to change now. It is a ridiculous idea that there is only one god.’

‘When we have to fight Crassus,’ said Nergal, ‘who will your god Mars decide to help, Domitus, us or him?’

‘Us of course,’ he replied without hesitation.

‘You sound very certain,’ I said.

‘In ancient mythology Mars laid with a nymph named Harmony and fathered a race of warrior women called Amazons. So you see, Mars will protect his children in the coming war.’

But before that war we had to deal with a more pressing conflict, so I asked Byrd to acquaint me with the composition of Mithridates’ army. Byrd, the Cappadocian pot seller and once a penniless Roman slave, was now the owner of a transport guild that operated in Syria, Judea, western Parthia, Cilicia and Cappadocia. His close bond with Malik had made him a friend of the Agraci. His marriage to Noora and the gold that Dura paid to a faithful servant provided him with the funds to procure a great number of camels. And the esteem in which he was held in Dura and among the Agraci ensured that his beasts could travel freely throughout the Arabian Peninsula and along the Silk Road in the Parthian Empire. It was not long before his camels were being hired by merchants in Syria and Judea to transport goods from Mesopotamia and Agraci lands to the ports along the Mediterranean coast. Soon Byrd had set up offices in Antioch, Damascus and Emesa as his transportation empire expanded. And now he had opened a further two offices, in Tyrus in Cilicia and in Caesarea in Cappadocia. His camels were always in demand to transport timber, textiles, silver, wine, bitumen and lead, much of which was then transported by ship to Italy. I often wondered what the Roman authorities in Syria and Judea would have thought if they knew that the man who controlled this vast transport network had been Spartacus’ chief scout. Now he was sitting with us all in my command tent after another day’s march at the head of his ragged band of scouts. His swarthy features and dirty Agraci robes gave him the appearance of a penniless vagrant, an individual you would pass in the street without giving him a second glance. But this ‘vagrant’ probably possessed more gold than Dura had in its treasury.

We were just over ten miles west of Seleucia and had yet to encounter any opposition.

‘We rode to within two miles of the city today,’ said Malik. ‘We saw nothing on the roads and no patrols, enemy or Babylonian.’

‘How many troops does Mithridates have?’ I asked Byrd, eager to know if Herneus had exaggerated.

‘My office in Tarsus tell me that for foot soldiers Mithridates has over twenty thousand Cilician warriors and a further twenty thousand Thracian mercenaries. He also has over ten thousand Sarmatian horsemen.’

‘Where did he get the money to raise that many troops?’ asked Domitus, who had taken to his usual habit of playing with his dagger.

‘Loans secured on seizing Parthia,’ replied Byrd.

‘Who are the Sarmatians?’ asked Gallia.

‘A wild people who live north of the Caucasus Mountains,’ I replied. ‘I see the hand of Tigranes in this. He must have suggested bringing these heathens into the empire.’

‘Perhaps Mithridates has crossed the Tigris,’ suggested Nergal, ‘and is heading for Susa.’

Susa was the capital of the Kingdom of Susiana and his homeland, but Susa was garrisoned by troops loyal to Orodes and after our great victory there the gold that remained after Mithridates had fled to Syria was conveyed back to Ctesiphon.

‘No,’ I said, ‘his objective would have been Seleucia and Ctesiphon just across the river where the gold is stored. Besides, the further east he goes the greater distance between him and his new friends, the Armenians and Romans.’

‘And his mother,’ quipped Domitus, ‘unless the old hag is with him.’

I looked at Byrd. He shook his head.

‘Queen Aruna stay at Antioch with her ladies and courtiers. Palace there very grand.’

‘I cannot believe that Mithridates is commanding the army,’ remarked Nergal. ‘He must have a Roman general with him.’

‘No Romani general with him,’ said Byrd with certainty.

‘Mithridates is no commander,’ said Domitus, ‘notwithstanding how many men he has.’

‘The question is,’ interrupted Kronos, ‘where are they?’

No one had an answer to that question and when the army broke camp the next morning, the first day of the new year, Byrd, Malik and their scouts were already looking for the enemy, having left in the darkness of the early hours. As soon as the legionaries filed out of the camp’s eastern entrance they adopted their battle positions: the Durans on the left, the Exiles on the right, each of them in three lines. While ten thousand hobnailed sandals tramped towards Seleucia the squires helped their masters and their horses into their scale armour and then a dragon of cataphracts rode out to take up position on the left flank of the Durans.

Nergal and his horse archers followed the cataphracts, riding south to deploy on the right wing, next to the Exiles. So ten thousand horsemen were arranged in two great blocks, fifty companies in each.

Vagises and his three thousand Duran horse archers galloped north to deploy on the left wing of the army, adjacent to the cataphracts. The latter had their full-face helmets pushed back on their heads as the temperature was already rising, though today at least there was a pleasant northerly breeze to abate the stifling heat.

The last to leave camp were the camel trains of Dura and Mesene, each one composed of a thousand beasts carrying spare arrows. Behind them the squires, veterinaries, farriers, physicians, the Roman engineers and their machines remained in camp under the command of Marcus Sutonius. The camp was not disassembled and in our absence the squires manned the ramparts with their bows – I would not put it past Mithridates and his men to spring from the desert to attack us from behind.

I rode a hundred paces in front of the army in the company of Gallia, Nergal, Praxima, Vagises, Domitus and Kronos, the latter two on foot. The pace of our march was slow to reflect our caution as we headed towards Seleucia. Behind us the banners of Dura and Mesene fluttered in the breeze and behind them came the Amazons holding their bows with arrows nocked. After an hour the yellow mud-brick walls of Seleucia loomed into view.

Now two hundred and fifty years old, Seleucus I Nicator, one of Alexander of Macedon’s generals, who had founded the Seleucid Empire, had originally established the city. Seleucia had been the first capital of that empire and its walls encompassed the city in the shape of an eagle with outstretched wings. Those walls had originally been strong but now they were in a state of dilapidation after years of neglect. They had been made more derelict by our recent assault in which the gatehouse had been demolished along with several of the adjoining towers dotting the perimeter at regular intervals. As we got nearer to the city I saw that there were additional great gaps in the wall where the masonry had been demolished. I signalled a halt. We were now some seven hundred paces from the city’s gatehouse.

‘Something is wrong.’

Domitus looked up at me. ‘Those breaches in the wall are new.’

‘Curious that there is no rubble where sections of the wall have collapsed,’ pondered Kronos.

‘Or were knocked down,’ suggested Domitus.

‘Why would Mardonius knock down sections of the wall?’ asked a confused Gallia.

‘He wouldn’t,’ I replied.

And where was Mardonius? As I scanned the surviving sections of the wall and towers the second-line cohorts of the Durans and Exiles moved forward to form an unbroken first line, while behind them the third lines moved forward to provide support. Either side of the shattered remains of the gatehouse were two demolished sections of wall, each one roughly a hundred paces wide. Aside from the standards fluttering and horses chomping on bits there was no noise. Seleucia was supposed to have a population of eighty thousand citizens but today it appeared to be a ghost city. There were no guards at the city’s main entrance and none on the walls. By now the appearance of twenty-four thousand soldiers standing in front of the city would have been noticed by even the most short-sighted sentry but still there was no activity.

‘I have a feeling that Mardonius no longer commands here,’ said Gallia.

Before anyone could answer a rider appeared at the city entrance, a man in a helmet mounted on a large light bay horse that suddenly galloped towards our position.

‘Amazons!’ shouted Gallia and her warriors flanked left and right and brought their bows up, ready to shoot at the approaching horseman. Gallia and Praxima pulled their bows from their hide cases and nocked arrows. When he got to within two hundred paces from us the rider slowed his horse to a trot and then a walk as he held out his arms to indicate he held no weapons. He wore a short-sleeved suit of leather lamellar armour over a blue shirt edge with yellow. He halted his horse a hundred paces from us.

‘My lord high general wishes to meet with King Pacorus of Dura,’ he shouted.

‘Does he mean Mithridates?’ asked Domitus.

I nudged Remus forward a few feet.

‘Careful, Pacorus,’ said Gallia, ‘it may be a trap.’

I looked at the man who still had his hands spread wide and his palms open.

‘I am confident that the Amazons will drop him before he can try anything.’

‘We may drop him anyway,’ added Praxima menacingly.

‘I thought you were the lord high general of the empire?’ said Domitus.

‘It appears I have a rival,’ I replied. ‘I am King Pacorus,’ I cried out. ‘Who is your lord high general?’

‘King Nicetas,’ he shouted back.

I looked back at the others who stared back at me with blank faces. I had never heard the name and neither had they.

‘If you assent, majesty,’ the soldier continued, ‘he will meet you alone at the midpoint between your army and the city walls.’

‘Do you want me to kill him, Pacorus?’ offered Praxima.

‘No thank you,’ I replied.

I had to admit I was curious to know the identity of the man who claimed the title I held.

‘Very well,’ I called back. ‘Go and tell your general to show himself.’

The soldier bowed his head and then turned his mount to gallop back to the city. The Amazons lowered their bows as Gallia rode up to me. Meanwhile, the walls of Seleucia still appeared devoid of any life.

‘Mithridates has captured the city,’ she said sternly.

I nodded. ‘It would appear so. Whoever this Nicetas is I assume he is in his service.’

Behind us Byrd and Malik brought their horses to a halt and then walked them forward.

‘No enemy within twenty miles,’ said Byrd.

‘The land is empty of all life,’ added Malik.

I kept looking at the city. Had Mithridates massacred the population? The absence of any crows or buzzards circling overhead suggested that the streets were not piled high with corpses. The mystery deepened.

‘Not quite empty,’ remarked Domitus, pointing at the walls.

I looked to see that another figure had appeared at the remains of the gatehouse, a man mounted on a black horse wearing what appeared to be a silver cuirass over a bright yellow tunic.

‘That must be Nicetas, whoever he is,’ said Nergal.

‘Time to solve the mystery,’ I said, nudging Remus forward as the individual who apparently had the same title as me approached.

‘Do not go, Pacorus,’ called Gallia, ‘it is obviously a trap.’

‘She is right,’ added Domitus, but I merely raised my hand at them. I was too curious to see this man up close and solve the riddle we faced.

As Remus walked forward I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Domitus and Kronos hurrying back to their men. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I suddenly felt tense, and yet there were no soldiers on the walls and silence still enveloped Seleucia. Ahead the man in the silver armour continued to move towards me, his left hand holding his horse’s reins and his right arm hanging by his side.

We were now less than a hundred paces apart and I saw that his cuirass was made up of dozens of overlapping rectangular silver scales that shimmered when he moved. His head was encased in a gilded helmet with large cheekguards hiding some of his features. And yet, as he came closer, there was something about his fair skin, powerful frame and neatly trimmed beard that was familiar. He halted a few feet from me, his magnificent stallion flicking its long black tail.

‘King Pacorus of Dura.’ His tone was both aggressive and slightly condescending.

‘And you must be Nicetas,’ I replied, ‘though your name was previously unknown to me before today.’

‘
King
Nicetas, and it is known to you now,’ he growled. I kept looking at his young face and saw in it a resemblance to someone I had known. But who?