Carrhae (35 page)

Nergal and Praxima burst into laughter and Diana grinned at them. As always they had made the trip from Uruk to be with the Companions, and as the years passed it had become obvious that they would not have children themselves. They were now both in their forties and Praxima’s child-bearing years were behind her, though Dobbai had foretold long ago that Praxima would never give birth due to the abuse her body had suffered at the hands of the Romans. And I reflected that Axsen, who was the same age as me, would also probably never have children and that saddened me – she and Orodes would have made excellent parents.

‘How is mother?’ I asked.

Diana looked at me with sympathy. ‘Still a lost soul, I am afraid to say. She seems happy enough in her garden and Vistaspa is a great source of comfort to her, but I often catch her crying at night before she sleeps. She misses your father terribly.’

‘We all do,’ said Gafarn.

‘All Parthia misses him,’ remarked Nergal glumly.

Spartacus stayed with me at Dura when his parents returned to Hatra with their bodyguard a week later. Gafarn had told me that all was quiet with regard to the Armenians though they still occupied Nisibus and the north of his kingdom. That obviously pained him but I said there was nothing to be done about it at the present. Everything hinged upon us defeating the Romans, after which we could turn the full might of the empire against the Armenians. Though ‘might’ was an inappropriate word to use.

In the month after the turn of the new year I became a scribe rather than a general, sending letters to and receiving them from all four corners of the empire. Parthia may not have had paved roads such as the Romans enjoyed but it was fortunate in possessing an excellent postal system. Post stations established every thirty miles or so along major roads, at which couriers could pick up fresh horses, ensured that messages traversed the empire speedily enough.

I received word from Phriapatius at Persepolis that his eldest son had returned to Carmania to rule in his place while he organised an eastern army. He told me that progress was slow on account of the other eastern kings having few troops to spare due to their great losses in the recent civil war. He tactfully did not mention that I had been responsible for a great number of those losses but assured me that the army would be assembled in time. He asked about his son and I wrote back that Peroz was a fine young man who was well liked at Dura, and that his horsemen were a valuable addition to the army. I broached the subject of Peroz being sent back to him but his father replied that as long as I was satisfied with his son’s conduct then he saw no reason for him to leave Dura.

Less welcome news came from King Khosrou of Margiana and King Musa of Hyrcania. These two rulers held the northeast frontier of the empire and could field great numbers of troops; soldiers that I had hoped could be brought west to fight the Romans and Armenians. But Khosrou informed me that the nomads who lived in the land between the Caspian and Aral seas were still raiding his northern frontier. These tribes had originally been bribed with gold by Mithridates to raid Margiana and Hyrcania so Khosrou and Musa would be fully occupied and thus not able to assist Orodes and me, but now they wished to invade Parthia and settle there. These peoples, the Saka and Huns, were wild, fierce warriors that were causing Khosrou and Musa great difficulties. As a consequence they would be able to contribute few if any troops to the army that Phriapatius was assembling.

At the end of the month I rode to Ctesiphon to see Orodes. I took Spartacus and Scarab with me as well as Peroz, who provided an escort of a hundred of his Carmanians. The whole of the empire’s western border from Dura north to Hatra and Gordyene was very quiet, though I had received letters from Byrd at Palmyra telling me that his sources reported that the Armenians were still being reinforced with mercenaries from Galatia, Cilicia, Cappadocia and Pontus. And Sarmatia, no doubt. Like us the Armenians were awaiting the arrival of Crassus before opening hostilities.

Orodes and Axsen had made the massive, ramshackle palace complex their official home now that he was king of kings and the empire’s treasury was once again located there.

A vast, sprawling edifice filled with several palaces, Ctesiphon’s walls were covered with wooden scaffolding when we rode through the main gates. Banners showing the horned bull of Babylon and the symbol of Susiana – an eagle clutching a snake in its talons – hung from the gatehouse and from flagpoles along the central avenue leading to a second gatehouse that gave access to the walled grounds of the complex’s main royal enclosure. In between these walls and the outer perimeter were barracks, stable blocks, granaries, storerooms, temples to Shamash, Ishtar and half a dozen other deities, and spacious ornamental gardens.

We left our escort to be shown to their barracks and made our way through the second gatehouse and into Ctesiphon’s inner sanctum of palaces, gardens, ornamental pools and stucco statues. We trotted along the paved road that led to the courtyard fronting a huge open-ended vaulted reception hall. Before this Demaratus and four of his Babylonian officers were standing. Dressed in scale armour cuirasses of overlapping silver scales, they wore purple long-sleeved shirts and baggy purple leggings. As I slid off Remus’ back and a stable hand took his reins, Demaratus walked over and bowed his head.

‘Greetings, majesty, welcome to Ctesiphon.’

I had been here before, once when Sinatruces had lured me here in an effort to steal Gallia from me, other times when Phraates had been high king, and none of those visits was particularly rewarding. I found it a nest of vipers and intrigue that dripped with treachery. Hopefully it would change now Orodes was high king.

‘I see the defences are being strengthened,’ I said.

‘The walls have been much neglected, majesty. It will take at least a year to finish the restoration work.’

I hoped we had that long before Roman sandals were tramping across the Mesopotamian desert. I held out a palm to Peroz.

‘This is Prince Peroz from Carmania who has brought horsemen to fight by my side.’

Peroz smiled at Demaratus who stood to attention and bowed his head. ‘Highness.’

I unstrapped my helmet and took it off as Demaratus escorted us into the reception hall towards the great red doors that led to the main throne room. Babylonian guards armed with short spears and shields stood either side of these doors and others stood along the walls.

‘The walls of Seleucia are also being repaired, majesty,’ remarked Demaratus, ‘though it will take years to restore them to their former strength.’

Spartacus and Scarab followed behind in silence and behind them walked Demaratus’ officers. The guards opened the doors to allow us to enter as we walked towards the dais at the far end of the hall where Orodes and Axsen awaited us. White marble tiles and white-painted walls and ceiling made the chamber look cavernous and the sound of our boots on the tiles echoed around the room.

I halted before my friends and bowed my head while Peroz, Spartacus and Scarab went down on one knee before Parthia’s king of kings and his wife. Near the walls stood nobles and their wives dressed in rich robes, the ladies adorned with fine jewellery. Around the dais itself were stewards and scribes, and dressed in red robes bearded priests from the Temple of Marduk in Babylon. Axsen had obviously brought her nobles and spiritual advisors from her city to Ctesiphon. Demaratus bowed to them both and then took his place beside the dais on Orodes’ right side.

‘Welcome, King Pacorus,’ said Orodes formally, ‘Lord High General of Parthia and victor of many battles.’

There was polite applause at his declaration.

‘Welcome Prince Peroz, son of King Phriapatius and our valuable ally, please rise.’

Peroz rose to his feet, leaving Spartacus and Scarab kneeling with heads bowed.

‘Rise all of you,’ commanded Orodes.

‘We are glad to see you, Pacorus,’ said Axsen who was wearing a rich purple robe with gold edging, a jewel-encrusted crown on her head and a gold necklace at her throat.

‘And I you, highness,’ I replied, causing her to smile.

The formalities out of the way, Orodes dismissed everyone in the throne room and asked to see me in his study in the palace’s private quarters to the rear of this chamber. Axsen asked Peroz, Spartacus and Scarab to escort her on a tour of the palace while I walked with Orodes along a corridor with walls decorated with paintings of animal hunts.

‘Axsen does not like it here,’ he complained. ‘She would rather be at Babylon.’

I could understand that. Babylon was where she grew up and its palace was just as splendid as Ctesiphon’s, perhaps more so.

‘Do you have to live here?’

He frowned. ‘The high king of the empire should live in its capital, inconvenient though it may be. Besides I am having it renovated, at considerable cost I may add.’

‘I noticed,’ I replied.

We arrived at his study, a slightly austere room with pigeonholes along one wall filled with old documents. I had visited it many years ago just prior to the Battle of Surkh when I had helped to defeat Narses, and afterwards had been rewarded with a great quantity of gold by a grateful Phraates. The large desk was in exactly the same position in front of wood panelling that was decorated with a beautifully painted map of the Parthian Empire. Orodes sank into the ornate chair behind the desk and pointed at another in front of it, in which I sat.

Orodes looked deflated as slaves offered us wine, pastries, wafers, fruit and yogurt. He took a
rhyton
of wine but waved away the offer of food. I helped myself to both wine and food as he ran a finger around the rim of his
rhyton
and then dismissed the slaves and ordered the two guards in the corridor to close the door.

‘The Armenians have refused my overtures to extend the peace treaty,’ he muttered.

‘Hardly a surprise,’ I replied, taking a mouthful of what was excellent wine. ‘Crassus and his army will be arriving soon. Artavasdes no doubt sees little merit in peace with the prospect of conquest dangling before his eyes. But he will not make any hostile moves before Crassus arrives.’

He looked up at me. ‘Perhaps we might think of striking at the Armenians before he does so.’

I rose from the chair and walked over to the map of the empire on the wall behind him.

‘Unfortunately, geography does not favour such a move.’ I pointed at Nisibus, which was occupied by the Armenians. ‘If we muster our forces at Hatra for a strike against Nisibus it will take around a month before the troops of Dura, Babylon, Media, Hatra, Mesene and Atropaiene are gathered together. Before that happens the Armenians will themselves muster over one hundred thousand troops and march them south to seize the city of Assur and the crossing point over the Tigris. If they hold that place then they can prevent troops from Media and Atropaiene to the east from reinforcing us.’

He too rose and stood next to me, tracing a finger from Nisibus down to Assur. ‘There is nothing to prevent them doing so now, Pacorus.’

I smiled. ‘I have reinforced Assur’s garrison with Silaces and seven thousand horse archers. The Armenians have no siege engines and so it is too hard a nut for them to crack.’

‘How many soldiers can be raised to fight the Armenians and Crassus?’ he asked.

‘Just over one hundred thousand in total, not including Surena’s forces in Gordyene.’

He raised an eyebrow at this.

‘To call upon Surena will leave Gordyene exposed to another Armenian invasion,’ I said.

‘A pity, Pacorus, he is an excellent commander.’

‘He is,’ I agreed, ‘but at the start of the war we need him in the north to stop Gordyene falling and then, after we have hopefully dealt with Crassus, reinforcing our efforts against the Armenians.

‘We are fortunate that Artavasdes is the Armenian king and not his father. He would not have waited until Crassus arrived before striking south.’

‘It was a greater stroke of luck the Romans diverting their attention to Egypt when they did,’ added Orodes, who retook his seat and gestured for me to do the same.

‘I have to tell you, my friend,’ I said, ‘that even if we manage to defeat Crassus there is no guarantee that we can also stop the Armenians. I have heard reports that they are recruiting great numbers of mercenaries to swell their army. You may wish to consider relocating your court to Esfahan or another eastern city.’

He looked aghast at my suggestion. ‘To do so would in an instant destroy any authority I might have. The king of kings of the empire does not flee from his enemies, Pacorus.’

‘At least consider moving to Babylon, then,’ I suggested. ‘Its walls are at least strong and sit behind a moat. The defences here are derisory.’

‘I have every confidence in you, Pacorus,’ he smiled, ‘to prevent the enemy reaching these parts.’

Unfortunately I did not share his confidence though I did not tell him so. The army of Hatra had formerly been the western shield of the empire, a highly trained force of professionals who were the envy of other kings. But now that army had suffered great losses at the Battle of Susa and subsequently at Nisibus and north of Hatra. It had lost its commander, my father, and its morale was low. Of the armies of the other kingdoms that would be called upon to fight Crassus, Media and Babylon had lost many sons at Susa and the soldiers of Atropaiene were average at best. That left only Nergal’s horse archers from Mesene and my own army as a match for the Romans but they would be heavily outnumbered. How I wished my father was still alive.

I looked round the room and saw the empty chairs and thought of another time when I was in this study.

‘Is something troubling you, Pacorus?’

‘I was just thinking of when I was in this study with your father, just before the Battle of Surkh where we defeated Narses. He was sitting where you are now. Across the table were my father, Gotarzes, Vardan and that snake Chosroes, and myself of course. Of all of them I am the only one left alive. It seems an age ago.’

He looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

‘You know,’ I continued, ‘when I escaped from Italy I thought that life would be so simple. I would marry Gallia, inherit my father’s throne and live out the rest of my life as the King of Hatra.’