Parthian Dawn (13 page)

‘I desire peace between our peoples, lord.’

As a tired Rasha fell asleep in Gallia’s arms, Haytham said nothing for a long time. I could feel my heart beating in my chest. Eventually he spoke.

‘For years your people, the Parthians, have hounded and killed the Agraci, driving them from their lands and treating them no better than animals. Even your own father, King Varaz, has led raids against my people. And now you, his son, sit in my tent and ask for peace. As a father I thank you for giving me back the life of my daughter, but as a king this is an irrelevance. So I ask you, why should I should be interested in peace with you?’

I knew that what I said in reply would determine whether my reign at Dura would be a success or failure. In my mind I had formulated a plan that I had not even told Gallia of. Now was my chance to put it into action. But only if the right words came from my mouth. I said a silent prayer to Shamash that He would assist me.

‘King Haytham, everything you say is correct. Your people have been wronged by mine, and there is nothing I can say that can change that. However, I would ask that you look to the future rather than the past. If we can have peace between the Agraci and Dura, then the result will be mutual benefits.’

‘What benefits?’ I knew that I had pricked his interest.

‘As you know, the trade caravans that travel between the Orient and the west bring great wealth to those kingdoms they journey through. Hatra, my father’s kingdom, is the richest in the Parthian Empire because of the duties it charges on the non-stop traffic that goes between east and west.’

One of the warlords present interrupted me. ‘Wealth that Hatra has used to purchase weapons and men with which to murder the Agraci.’

‘Silence!’ Haytham’s shout caused me to jump and Rasha to open her eyes.

‘Please continue, King Pacorus,’ he said, more quietly, freezing the man who had spoken with his iron-hard stare.

‘It is five days’ ride from Dura to your capital at Palmyra, and another five west to reach the coast of the Mediterranean. The owners of the caravans would gladly pay to have access to the coast through your territory. There are many in Egypt who crave the spices, silk and riches of the East, and would pay handsomely for them.’

Haytham smiled. ‘So you wish to become rich.’

I saw no reason to lie. ‘Of course, why not?
We
can both become rich. Is that not more desirous that butchering each other and having the vultures pick at our bones in the desert?’

‘I propose a peace treaty between us. Dura will make no further encroachments upon your territory. Your people can have access to Dura’s markets, and you will be able to levy customs duties on all trade caravans that pass through your territory. In return, I ask that your raids upon my territory cease immediately.’

I pointed at the man who had spoken out. ‘You talk of Hatra being able to purchase weapons and men and you are right, but peace makes trade possible and trade brings wealth. And with wealth you too can purchase weapons, horses and armour to remain strong.’

Haytham nodded thoughtfully. ‘You speak with a maturity far in advance of your years, young Parthian. Some say that you are favoured by the gods. I do not know of such things and in any case your gods are not mine. But I do know that you do not lack in courage, for to venture into an enemy’s lands with only two companions is brave indeed, if a little foolhardy.

‘I will think on your proposal. In the meantime, know that you are free to return to your city and your people. I will send my answer to you in due course. I will say no more on the matter. I bid your goodnight.’

He rose, smiled at Gallia and then picked up his sleeping daughter from my wife’s arms. Everyone stood up and bowed their heads as Haytham headed for his sleeping quarters. The evening was at an end and so we were shown back to our tent, Byrd to his.

In the morning we took our leave of Haytham, Gallia and Rasha embracing as they parted from each other. Byrd was sitting emotionless on his horse and Malik was standing next to his father. Haytham’s face was a stone mask as we rode from his camp escorted by a dozen of his warriors. They followed a hundred paces behind us, then around noon wheeled away and disappeared into the desert. Byrd rode ahead, leaving me alone with Gallia.

‘Do you think Haytham will accept your offer?’

‘I hope so, it will make things a lot easier.’

‘What things?’

‘The defences of Dura need strengthening, the legion needs to be fully equipped and I need to have a force of cataphracts. All this will be possible if Haytham agrees to peace.’

‘For someone who wants peace, you sound as though you are preparing for war.’

‘If Dura is strong then enemies will think twice before attacking it.’

‘You are speaking of the Romans?’ she said. ‘You think they will attack us?’

‘I think the Romans have an insatiable desire to conquer the whole world. You know them; they will come. And I will be ready when they do.’

But thoughts of the Romans had to be put aside for the moment as I waited for Haytham’s answer to my proposals. There was much rejoicing when we got back to the city, not least because everyone thought that we would die at the hands of the Agraci. In the days following I travelled to the estates of all the landowners in my kingdom. Though their failure to present themselves upon my arrival at Dura could be construed as an insult, I decided to ignore their slight; after all, their sons had been prisoners in the city. And so I met them one by one. I took Nergal and fifty horsemen, plus my griffin banner, and was in truth well received. I was honest and forthright with each one, telling them of my trip into the desert to meet Haytham and my desire for peace with the Agraci. I also told them that I had said that his raids upon their lands must stop and that I was waiting for his answer. The expressions on their faces told me that they remained sceptical that I would receive the answer I desired, but I think they were pleasantly surprised I had bothered to visit them and inform them of my plans. Each one asked if it was true that Gallia had accompanied me on my mission, and I told them it had been so. I think they were disappointed she was not with me during my visits to them. I told them I would be inviting them all to a banquet in due course, and assured them the gates of the city and Citadel would be open the whole time during their visit.

‘Do you think you have won them over?’ I sat with Gallia on the balcony of our bedroom perched high on the cliff overlooking the Euphrates below. She was combing her hair, which sparkled in the light of the late afternoon sun.

‘Who?’ I said. ‘The Agraci or the lords?’

‘Both.’

I shrugged. ‘We will know soon enough.’

I looked at her. Her fine features and perfect skin making her every inch the queen she was.

‘I know Dura isn’t Hatra.’

She looked at me quizzically. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I know that Dura is a fortress city and doesn’t have the gardens and grand palace that you were used to at Hatra. I’m sorry if it is a disappointment.’

She put down her comb and fixed me with her blue eyes. ‘Sometimes, Pacorus, you are a complete idiot.’

‘What?’

She gestured at the balcony with her arms. ‘This is my home, the place where I hope to raise a family, the place where I want to grow old. Why should I care if it does not have ornamental ponds or exotic animals wandering around in lush gardens? I would not wish to be anywhere else.’

Of course, she was right. I was a fool. All her life she had never known a home. She had grown up in her father’s berg in northern Italy, was then sold into slavery, had lived in tents during her time with Spartacus, and finally had spent time in my father’s palace in Hatra. Now, for the first time, she had a place that was hers.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Quite right, too.’

In truth our home was far from lavish, frugal would be the correct word to use. All my father’s money had been deposited in the treasury where it was watched over by Rsan, who displayed the same reluctance to part with any of it as Addu had at Hatra. Every drachma was itemised and locked in a vault below the treasury. Nothing was spent on furnishings for the palace, my only concern being the equipping of the legion. Aside from the Companions who had brought their arms and armour from Italy, most of the men had no equipment.

‘I need five thousand mail shirts, shields, swords and helmets,’ said Domitus, ‘plus another five thousand javelins to start with.’

Rsan was shaking his head. ‘Impossible. Such an expenditure would empty the treasury.’

Now that Domitus has settled the legion into its camp, he was impatient for it to be fully equipped. All three of us were standing in the armoury, a squat, thick-walled building that had grills on its small windows and one small wooden door faced with iron. It was filled with rows of empty stands that used to hold spears and swords, though there were a few bundles of arrows stacked on shelves.

Domitus drew his own sword, a Roman
gladius
with razor-sharp edges. He moved closer to Rsan and held the point of the blade only inches from his belly.

‘This, Lord Rsan, is the type of sword I desire, very useful when you want to get cosy with your enemy.’

Rsan’s eyes were wide with alarm.

‘No slashing with this little fellow, just three inches into an enemy’s guts a few times will spill his innards without any fuss.’

‘Thank you, Domitus,’ I said, ‘there’s no need to alarm my treasurer.’

Domitus smiled at Rsan and sheathed his blade. ‘Just stressing that my legion needs weapons if it is to keep the city, and your treasury, safe.’

His smile disappeared when he heard the bell in the courtyard being rung frantically. I followed two paces behind him as we raced from the armoury and onto the flagstones. I saw Nergal on his horse with a dozen of his men behind him and one of the guards beside him ringing the bell. Around us other soldiers were spilling out of the barracks to form up, while the gates of the Citadel were being closed. Gallia and Praxima appeared on the palace steps, followed by Godarz.

Nergal saw me and saluted. ‘Agraci war band approaching the city. I was returning from the training fields when a party of Domitus’ men alerted us to their approach. I have ordered the Palmyrene Gate to be closed.’

The garrison had formed up by now — a hundred legionaries and fifty Parthians, the latter on horseback armed with bows. Gallia’s score of Amazons formed the end of the line.

I pointed at Domitus. ‘Stay here with your men. Nergal, we will ride out to meet them.’

I ran towards the stables to saddle Remus. Gallia followed me.

‘I’m coming too.’

We rode through the city and out through the reopened Palmyrene Gate west towards the approaching foe, all of us armed with bows and swords. I was wearing my helmet and leather cuirass. Gallia’s Amazons were clad in their mail shirts and helmets, while Nergal’s Parthians were similarly attired. We galloped past the legion’s camp, the men standing to arms, and saw a great mass of black-clad horsemen in front of us. So Haytham had chosen war instead of peace. As we slowed and riders to my left and right rode forward to form into line, I must confess that I was greatly disappointed. No matter, we would soon scatter these Agraci. Then I reached behind me, pulled my bow from its case and extracted an arrow from my quiver. The others did the same as we slowed our horses to a walk and then halted them. The Agraci were about a quarter of a mile distant. They also appeared to have slowed. In fact they had halted. They made no move to get into any formation. No doubt they would attack us in one great, disorganised mass.

I raised my bow in the air to signal the advance; everyone responded in a like manner. Gallia was at my side, arrow in her bowstring. I nudged Remus with my knees and he began to move forward. Ahead I saw that one of the Agraci was also moving towards us, though he appeared to be the only one. We continued our advance, moving into a trot, when Gallia suddenly called out.

‘It is Prince Malik.’

I instinctively halted Remus.

‘What?’

Gallia had taken off her helmet and was pointing at the lone horseman approaching, with his hand raised.

‘It is Prince Malik, Pacorus.’

‘Halt, halt!’ I screamed, and my riders pulled up their mounts. Gallia was right, it was Prince Malik, and the fact that he was riding alone ahead of his men indicated that he was not here to fight. I rode up and down my line of riders.

‘Stand down, stand down.’

I put away my bow as Malik approached. Gallia was advancing to meet him as I joined her until we halted a few paces from the prince.

Malik removed his turban and bowed his head. ‘Greetings, King Pacorus, Queen Gallia.’

I raised my hand to him in salute. ‘Greetings, Prince Malik. You come well accompanied.’

He looked back to his group of riders, who must have numbered over three hundred. ‘Indeed, my apologies if we appear warlike. My father thought it wise to send me with a strong escort. There are those among your lords who are still at war with us, I think.’

‘How are your father and sister?’ asked Gallia.

‘They are well, and Rasha sends you her greetings.’ He looked at me. ‘I bring a message from my father, lord king, that there shall be peace between you and him.’

At that moment I could have soared like an eagle. ‘This is most excellent news, Prince Malik, you must come back to Dura with me to refresh yourself.’

He suddenly looked solemn. ‘And my men?’

‘They are welcome too, as are all Agraci in my kingdom.’

So we rode back to the city, three hundred Agraci warriors following us. When we entered the city people fled in terror at the sight of them, women scooping children up in their arms and racing back to their homes. Malik diplomatically ignored their shrieks of alarm and some curses. When we reached the Citadel he looked back at the city.

‘I fear it will take a long time before old enmities are forgotten.’

‘We have made a start, Malik,’ I assured him, ‘and that is the important thing.’

He stayed for two days, though most of his men rode back to Palmyra that afternoon. The next day I showed him round the Citadel and then the city. He had a keen mind and an agreeable manner, and did much in his short visit to dispel many old prejudices about the Agraci being bloodthirsty, mindless barbarians. In any case his race meant nothing to Domitus, who was a Roman, or to Godarz, who had spent many years as a slave in Italy and who had only a distant recollection of the Agraci. I noticed that Rsan made himself scarce, but no matter. And of course Gallia admired him greatly. We gave a feast in his honour that night. Malik sat on my right side at the top table. Also in attendance were Domitus, Godarz, Nergal and Praxima. Malik was fascinated by the notion of Gallia’s Amazons.