Parthian Dawn (14 page)

Read Parthian Dawn Online

Authors: Peter Darman

BOOK: Parthian Dawn
13.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘And are the stories about you true, majesty, that you and your women have fought in battle?’

‘Of course,’ replied Gallia. She pointed at Praxima sitting next to Nergal. ‘Praxima over there is my second-in-command and is a fearsome warrior on the battlefield.’

‘And you do not mind your wife being placed in such danger?’ he said to me.

‘When I first met her we were always in danger, surrounded as we were by our enemies.’

He looked down at his cup. ‘You were slaves.’

‘It’s true,’ I said, ‘and I have never forgotten that time.’

‘Do you burn to avenge the wrongs committed against you, by the Romans, I mean?’

‘We killed our fair share of Romans in Italy,’ said Gallia casually.

‘And if they stray near my kingdom we will kill some more,’ I added.

He looked at Domitus. ‘And yet a Roman is one of your trusted commanders.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I trust him with my life.’

‘It is most curious.’

‘They were curious times, Malik. But tell me,’ I said, ‘why did your father agree to my proposal?’

He considered for a moment. ‘Because you gave him back his daughter and because you treated him as an equal. And I think that made a great impression upon him.’

‘And so he is,’ I said, ‘for he is a king.’

‘Not all Parthians think like you do, majesty.’

Chapter 6

W
ith peace agreed upon Malik returned to his people and I began to plan for the future. The first task was to equip the legion. To this end, two large brick buildings were purchased on the other side of the Citadel’s northern wall. Each building was rectangular in shape and gradually filled with workshops, furnaces, anvils, tools and quenching troughs. I told Godarz to send word far and wide that Dura was looking to hire the best armourers and blacksmiths that money could buy. Soon men from Syria, Judea and a host of Parthian kingdoms were presenting themselves at the Citadel. Godarz organised their hiring and Rsan their pay. When my treasurer complained about the cost I told him that the taxes from the markets would help pay for them. In this I was proved correct, for with the cessation of the Agraci raids commerce began to return to the city. Anyone was free to come to Dura and trade their wares, as long as they paid for the hire of a stall in the market. The latter was held in the city’s main square, halfway between the Citadel and the Palmyrene Gate, and was open every day. Domitus’ men kept order and Rsan’s clerks collected duties from each stall. The treasury began to fill. The generosity of the kings who had attended my wedding also helped to equip my army. As wedding presents Gotarzes sent iron, Farhad and Aschek bronze, while Balas sent me two hundred tons of wood to make shields and javelin shafts. The load was floated down the Tigris and then transported on carts via Hatra to Dura. Finally, Vardan sent me two thousand hides.

But commerce within the kingdom was only one half of my plan to swell the kingdom’s revenues. To really fill the treasury, Dura needed the caravans from the East. So I instructed Byrd to ride to Palmyra and then to Judea and south to Egypt and spread the word that I needed bridge builders. A month later he returned with a bald-headed man with black make-up around his eyes who presented a scroll with Greek writing upon it from his king, called a pharaoh. The scroll attested to his skills as a builder of bridges. The man also spoke Greek. I showed him the Euphrates from the palace’s terrace. Though the river was wide at this point, in the middle of the waterway, just north of the city, was an island shaped liked a spear blade. The Egyptian pointed at the island. ‘Bridge should go from this bank to the island, then from island to the far bank, divinity.’

‘The water is deep at this point.’

He shook his head. ‘No matter, divinity. I build pontoon bridge, lay planks across a row of boats. Easy to maintain and safe, and when the wood rots you can replace it quickly.’

We obtained material for the bridge from the many riverine woods, called
huweijat
, that hugged the banks of the Euphrates. Domitus sent his centuries far up and down river armed with axes to cut down the trees. The wood was loaded onto barges and floated downstream or rowed upstream to Dura, where carpenters under the Egyptian’s watchful eye constructed the road of planks and the vessels that would support them. The caravans would be able to cross the river immediately north of Dura and then take the road to Palmyra. If they so desired they could camp for the night near the city before continuing their journey.

Domitus’ legionaries unloaded the wood and carried it to the workshops. The barges for the pontoon bridge were assembled along the riverbank, a host of carpenters sawing, planing and hammering the beams and planks into place. As the spring gave way to early summer I liked to lend them a hand, unloading tree trunks from barges and hauling them by rope to the benches that the Egyptian had set up under canvas roofs a hundred paces or so from the water. Nergal also liked to pitch in and the two of us, stripped to the waist and covered in sweat, would struggle to lift a thick log from a barge and pull it to where it could be stacked with others to dry out before it was worked on.

‘Come on, your majesty,’ bellowed Domitus, dressed in helmet and mail shirt, his cane in his hand, ‘put your back into it. You too, Lord Nergal. Otherwise the both of you will be pulling extra guard duties for the rest of the week.’

The other legionaries around us grinned to each other as their commander took great delight in pouring scorn on our efforts.

‘You see boys, years in the saddle makes you soft.’

We pulled another thick log from the barge and let it fall onto the bank. Unfortunately it fell into the mud and splattered us. We got into a worse mess when we had to manhandle the log out of the grime, which caked our leggings and torsos in mud. We secured a rope around one end and then the two of us hauled it to where the others were stacked. We stood panting, bent over, our hands on our knees.

‘Only another few dozen to go, majesty.’ Domitus was having great fun.

I looked at the river, where at least a dozen barges were waiting to be unloaded, each one piled high with wood.

The appearance of Gallia and Praxima interrupted our work, the two of them riding to the water’s edge. Domitus raised his cane in salute.

‘You look disgusting,’ said Gallia.

‘Have you had a mud fight?’ added Praxima.

I walked over to a table holding water jugs and filled a cup, handed it to Nergal and then filled another for myself.

‘Honest toil, ladies, good for the soul.’

‘You had better come to the Citadel,’ said Gallia, ‘there is something you should see.’

‘Oh, what is it?’

‘You should see for yourself,’ she replied. ‘And clean yourself up first.’

‘You too, Nergal,’ said Praxima.

We washed ourselves in the river and then we all rode back to the Citadel. The courtyard was filled with horsemen, all on well-groomed mounts fully armed with bows, quivers and swords. Their tunics were a multitude of bright colours and their saddles were trimmed with silver and gold strips. Their harnesses were made of fine red and black leather, and the tails on their horses were all plaited. They numbered a score and they looked magnificent. As I halted Remus I suddenly recognised them. Of course, they had been the captives, the sons of Dura’s nobles. I also saw the look of disbelief on their faces as they stared at my appearance. Then they dismounted and knelt before me.

Gallia had halted Epona beside me. ‘They have come back to serve you.’

‘Get up, get up all of you,’ I shouted. ‘You are all most welcome.’

Nergal organised their stabling and accommodation in the barracks and that evening we all ate in the banqueting hall. Each one presented himself to Gallia and me. They certainly looked much changed since I had last seen them. They were aged between the late teens and early twenties. I told them that I intended to create a force of cataphracts and they would thus become armoured horsemen. They seemed very pleased with this as they already had their horses. All that was required was the armour.

‘That will be difficult, Pacorus.’ Godarz was scratching his head, which I noticed was going bald. ‘The armouries are already at full capacity making mails shirts, shields and helmets for the legion, and now you want more armour.’

‘The sons of the nobles brought money with them, did they not?’

‘Oh yes, enough to keep them and their horses for a year, but not enough to purchase suits of armour for themselves and their horses. And another thing, we will have to obtain leather vests for the legionaries to wear between their mail armour and tunics.’

‘Why?’

He looked at me with a knowing look in his eye. ‘When you decided that you wanted your own legion, you forgot that we are no longer in Italy.’

‘Of course I didn’t,’ I said irritably.

‘Oh yes you did. This is Parthia, and in Parthia and the East in general horse archers are more prevalent than mail-clad foot soldiers.’

‘So?’


So
, my young king, if the legion goes into battle it will be subjected to heavy arrow fire from horse archers. Mail armour is very good as protection against slashing or blunt weapon attacks, but not as effective as a defence against arrows. Give your legionaries leather vests under their mail and they will have maximum protection.’

I sighed loudly. ‘I see.’

He rubbed his head again. ‘Indeed. So five thousand leather vests are needed as well. So you see, armour for your cataphract project is quite out of the question, even with Vardan’s generous gift. And each cataphract will also need two squires to serve him.’

In fact, Godarz had been too pessimistic when it came to leather. It proved easy to obtain, as the royal estate, my estate that was located south of the city, had vast herds of pigs, goats and sheep. The mail proved more difficult and expensive to produce. Not only did we have to purchase the bronze and steel from which the armour was made, but also hire the armourers and metal workers to create the mail shirts. Watching the latter being made was truly a wondrous experience. Each suit comprised around twelve thousand riveted links alternated with a similar number of punched rings. On average it took forty hours of labour to produce one mail shirt that reached down to mid-thigh. Godarz had two hundred metal workers and a hundred armourers working in shifts night and day.

The one thing that would decide whether I could raise and finance my army would be the willingness of the trade caravans to risk the trip through Agraci territory to Syria and then south to Egypt. The economics made perfect sense, for to undertake such a trip would save at least a month in time. Most caravans came from Ctesiphon and Seleucia and then headed north to Hatra, thence to Antioch and then Syria, before making the long journey south via Damascus and Tyre to Egypt. I sent messages to the trade envoys based in Hatra that if they wanted to do business with Egypt, then Dura should be their destination. This would not be taking revenues from my father’s coffers, for the caravans would have to pay duties to Hatra anyway before they reached Dura.

The pontoon bridge was finished now. The Egyptian was most pleased with his project, as was I.

‘Bridge very strong, divinity, will last a thousand years.’

‘Just thirty of forty will suffice,’ I said.

A month passed and I was growing increasingly concerned that my efforts had been in vain, but then one morning, as the sun shone on the blue waters of the Euphrates, a row of camels appeared on the horizon. Though word was sent to me at the palace I had already spotted it from the terrace, and both Gallia and I raced to the stables to fetch our horses. Like excited children we rode to the bridge, followed by Godarz and Rsan, who were also in an agitated state.

The merchant who owned the camels was a small wiry man of Oriental appearance, with a thin moustache that had waxed ends. He wore a black cloth cap on his head and red sandals on his feet that rose into a point at his toes. His steps were short and quick, and when we were introduced to him he held his hands clasped to his chest and smiled a great deal.

‘My name is Li Sung and I have a consignment of silk to sell to the Pharaoh of Egypt,’ his Parthian was impeccable.

I stood before him with Rsan and Godarz. ‘Greetings, Li Sung,’ I bowed my head to him, ‘you are most welcome.’

As his thirty camels, their attendants and guards crossed over the bridge, I walked beside him.

‘I have heard that you have opened a new route to Egypt, one which can save me much time,’ he said.

‘That is true.’

He nodded his head. ‘I have also heard that this route goes through territory that belongs to bandits.’

‘I have reached an agreement with the people to whom you allude. You will have safe passage through their territory. You will be able to use their watering holes, and they will offer you protection, subject to the usual customs duties, of course.’

‘Of course. I have travelled through your father’s kingdom for many years, and because you are his son I have decided to hazard this journey. Many eyes are upon me, King Pacorus.’

He was right in that, for if he reached his destination safely then many caravans would follow his. I knew what he was intimating at. His eyes did not blink as he looked at me. I blinked first.

‘Of course this one passage, this passage through Dura, shall be free of all charges, Li Sung,’ I said.

He smiled and bowed his head. ‘You are a most gracious king. I shall tell the emperor of your generosity.’

I allowed Li Sung to quarter his beasts and their valuable cargo inside the legion’s camp that night, and in the morning he moved out two hours after dawn. The previous afternoon I had sent a message to Haytham alerting him of Li Sung’s caravan, but I was still nervous as I watched the line of camels fade into the distance.

‘They will be quite all right,’ Gallia reassured me. ‘There is no reason why Haytham won’t keep his word.’

‘I know, but still.’

I had toyed with the idea sending an armed escort to protect the caravan, but that would be interpreted by Haytham as a sign that I did not trust him. It all came down to trust. Gallia laid a hand on my arm.

Other books

A Father's Love by Lorhainne Eckhart
El décimo círculo by Jodi Picoult
Undisclosed Desires by Patricia Mason
The Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich
Harvard Square by André Aciman
Saving Each Other (BWWM Romance) by Tyra Brown, Interracial Love
Bitter Taffy by Amy Lane
Night of the Purple Moon by Cramer, Scott