Parthian Dawn (69 page)

Recall was sounded and once more the men formed into their companies as Kuban’s men emerged from the smoke and again formed up on our right wing. Atrax, Gallia and Kuban joined me, their eyes red from the smoke, their faces streaked with dirt and their blades smeared with blood.

‘We must get back to reinforce Vistaspa.’

So we rode to the bridge, our wounded carried behind other riders. Fortunately the enemy cavalry did not pursue us as we cantered across the plain to the river. We arrived to discover that Vistaspa had seized the bridge intact and had erected a protective barricade of wagons on the eastern bank, facing the enemy on that side of the river. He had established his command post next to a small cart on the western side of the river, around two hundred paces from the pontoon bridge.

‘There is no point in holding one end of a wooden bridge if the enemy can set fire to the other,’ he said.

He told me that when he arrived there was only a light guard manning the bridge, whose members had been speedily killed, allowing him to send men across the river and secure the eastern end. Then he manned the barricade with archers and threw a cordon around the bridge on the west bank of the river. As I spoke to him my cavalry filed past his horsemen sitting in their companies ready to beat off any attack. My men dismounted and threw themselves on the ground, exhausted. He looked at our tired faces and ripped attire.

‘We could not break through to the city,’ I said despondently.

He nodded and handed me a waterskin. ‘Is Queen Gallia well?’

I managed a smile. ‘She is well.’

I looked across the river to see a great mass of horsemen approaching from the north.

‘Hatra’s horsemen, plus those of the other kings,’ remarked Vistaspa. He looked at me. ‘Your city will soon be free of any threat.’

More horn blasts came from our side of the river and I mounted Remus once more. I saw the banner of Orodes fluttering in the hot air and behind it a column of cataphracts, the sun glinting off the whetted points of their great lances, followed by Nergal, Dura’s lords and their horse archers. My tiredness started to recede as I rode to greet them. The enemy’s army had now been split in two, but we still had to force a way through to the city. Dura was difficult to see clearly now because the whole plain was wreathed in smoke caused by the burning enemy camp. I now realised that torching it was a mistake. Gallia rode over to me as Vistaspa joined us on his horses.

Orodes, dressed in his scale amour, raised his left arm. ‘Hail Pacorus, hail Gallia.’

‘We can push our way through to the city now,’ said Gallia impatiently.

Across the river the shouts and cries of thousands of men signalled that the two sides had now clashed. I looked at the smoke obscuring the city, horses and camels bolting and injured men limping past us.

‘What are we waiting for?’ snapped Gallia.

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Orodes, get your heavy cavalry into line on the plain behind that burning camp. Nergal, get your men on the plain in front of those of Orodes.’

Gallia nodded her head enthusiastically and Vistaspa raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Across the river the din of battle increased.

‘You disagree, Lord Vistaspa?’ I asked.

He was aware of Gallia’s animosity towards him so he chose his words carefully.

‘It might be prudent to wait for your legions to arrive.’

‘They are two hours’ march away at least,’ said Orodes.

‘Two hours is too long,’ said Gallia. ‘We must attack again.’

They were both right, so I decided to compromise.

‘Orodes, your men will form a reserve in case the enemy mount a charge against us at the bridge. Nergal and Atrax, take the horse archers and annoy the enemy deployed in front of the city.’

They saluted and rode off to organise their men.

‘What are you doing?’ said Gallia, clearly annoyed.

‘We use the horse archers to pepper the enemy with arrows. They will not storm the city now.’

Vistaspa nodded and Gallia rode off to refill her quiver. Orodes had brought camels loaded with arrows with him, and now these were distributed among the horse archers of Dura and Media. Surena also went and brought me back a full quiver. Nergal and Atrax then deployed their men across the plain to the west of the city and led them forward once more. This time, however, they operated in their hundred-man companies, moving forward, shooting at the enemy and then retreating. Orodes deployed his cataphracts behind the archers, well back from still-smouldering enemy camp. If the enemy’s horsemen showed themselves again the horse archers were to fall back to let the cataphracts deal with them. And so, while we waited for Domitus, the enemy was once again assaulted by an arrow storm. The enemy also had arrows, but because they had used many when we had first assaulted their ranks earlier that day, their fire soon lessened and then stopped altogether. Nergal reported that they had fallen back from in front of the city’s walls and were grouped in a solid block on the plain between the city and their own destroyed camp. Our horsemen did not ride through the charred remains of the camp, but rather skirted it by riding north to south, shooting arrows at the enemy ranks on their left side. Then, once a company had ridden beyond the southern flank of the enemy, it wheeled right and rode back north behind the camp. In this way there was a continuous chain of companies loosing arrows at the enemy. The ammunition expenditure was prodigious, and after it had made two circuits each company had to ride back to the camel train for fresh arrows. We could not maintain such expenditure indefinitely, for soon our own supplies would be exhausted, but we did not have to. To the north the shrill sound of trumpet blasts could be heard — Domitus had arrived at last.

His cohorts began deploying on the plain as he reported to me. He looked remarkably fresh after his forced march, but then he and his men were in peak physical condition. The tents, mules and wagons had been left behind and were being escorted by the rest of the Median cavalry. The legionaries had slept under the stars after each day’s march with guards posted every ten paces. It would have irked Domitus to disregard a habit of a lifetime, but there was no time to erect a camp each night.

‘It will take the boys a couple of hours before they are in their battle formations and after they’ve had some water to drink,’ he said, taking off his helmet and wiping his sweating forehead with a rag.

Even as he spoke legionaries were filling water bottles in the river and ferrying them back to their comrades. It was early afternoon now and the heat was intense. A canvas awning had been erected next to the wagon that was Vistaspa’s command post, and several stools had been placed under it. Gallia, Vistaspa and I joined Domitus as he placed his helmet on the ground and sat down on one of the stools.

‘So,’ he said, ‘what is the situation?’

I told him about our attack with the cavalry earlier and how the siege towers had been destroyed by fire.

‘Lucky for you that you kept those Roman engineers,’ he said. ‘It was undoubtedly their machines that threw those fireballs. Did the enemy fire their own camp?’

‘Er, no,’ I replied.

‘Then which idiot set it alight?’

Gallia pointed at me. Domitus shook his head. ‘I worry about you, Pacorus.’

He stood up and put his hands on his hips. ‘We can’t march through it, so we’ll have to split our forces and launch our attacks from the flanks, straight at their centre.’

I told him about the enemy horsemen that had counterattacked us.

‘Where are they now?’ he asked.

‘I do not know.’

He smiled. ‘They will be covering their foot, most likely.’

‘Orodes and his horsemen will deal with them,’ I said

The sounds of battle could still be heard across the river, though Domitus made no mention of what was happening on the other side of the Euphrates. His attention was focused on this side of the river. He replaced his helmet on his head and strode away to join a knot of his officers who were waiting nearby, then they all marched off to rejoin their units.

A lull descended over the battlefield as Domitus arranged his cohorts for the next attack on the enemy. Nergal’s horse archers were pulled back and drawn up on both flanks of the legions, while behind the foot Orodes’ cataphracts roasted in their scale armour. With Gallia I rode over to where the legions were deploying for battle, each one drawn up in three lines on either side of the still-burning camp. This meant that there was a large gap between each legion and I was worried that the enemy could escape through this space.

‘Escape to where?’ asked Domitus, watching his officers arrange their cohorts in close order. ‘If any do manage to escape, all that awaits them are the scorpions of the desert and Haytham’s warriors.’

Those of Nergal’s horse archers who were drawn up on the right flank I sent across to the left, for Gallia had brought her Amazons with her. Behind them came the leather-clad horsemen of Kuban, who now formed themselves into a long line extending south. I could see the enemy mass clearly, a great brown block of Mesenian foot, which included the horse archers who had left their mounts in camp. I wondered what they were thinking as the legionaries made their final preparations. They were about a quarter of a mile from Dura’s walls and had been standing there for some time now, with no food or water and under a blazing sun. I glanced at the Pontic Legion drawn up on our left.

The constant drills and training that the legionaries had performed over the preceding months meant that their deployment into their battle positions was as smooth as silk. The forthcoming clash would be a mere formality, but then the unexpected happened. I never considered that the enemy opposite us would attack, but that is precisely what they did. Not a measured approach followed by a disciplined rush at our ranks, but a wild charge against the Duran Legion positioned to the north of the burnt camp. Whoever the general was who led those forces, and I hoped it was Chosroes himself so I could kill him with my own sword, he had obviously realised the hopelessness of his situation. Having retreated from before the walls of Dura, he and his men were now trapped between the city and two legions that were each flanked by horsemen. I estimated by the extent of the enemy line that there were still around six or seven thousand men arrayed against us, though many of those were dismounted horse archers who had been used to sweep Dura’s walls and towers of guards as the siege towers approached the city. Now those same men were largely without arrows. The rest were a motley collection of spearmen and other foot armed with axes, clubs and swords. Some of our horsemen had been hit and killed by lead balls, which meant that there were also some slingers among their ranks. But their commander knew that to stand and wait to be attacked was to invite certain death, so he threw all his men against the Duran Legion standing to the north of the charred camp. He could see that the latter divided the forces formed up against him, and probably gambled that he could smash his way through our lines before our forces deployed to the south of the camp could reach him. It was a bold gamble.

The two sides were around five hundred paces apart when there was a mighty cheer and the whole of the enemy mass began moving towards the Duran Legion. I was standing beside Domitus, finalising the plan of attack, when I heard and then saw the charge of the enemy. For a moment I was stunned; I could hardly believe that they would attempt such a thing. Then alarm swept through me. If they broke through the legion then they would reach the bridge, and if they reached the bridge they might escape across the Euphrates.

‘Brave but stupid,’ remarked Domitus nonchalantly.

Already trumpet blasts were coming from the legion’s centuries as the frontline cohorts prepared to receive the enemy’s charge. As they had done countless times on the training field, the men would close up and then advance against the seething mass that was now running towards them. When they were within thirty to forty paces of the opposition the front ranks would hurl their javelins, draw their swords and then charge the enemy. The storm of javelins would cut down their front ranks and then the legionaries would go to work with their short swords, stabbing with their points at their opponents.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Domitus, ‘the boys will hold. You had better deal with those, though.’

He was pointing at a long line of horsemen heading in our direction from south of the city, no doubt the same ones that had attacked Kuban’s men earlier in the day. I vaulted into Remus’ saddle.

‘The enemy must not be allowed to reach the bridge, Domitus.’

He raised his hand. ‘They won’t, but you had better keep those horsemen away.’

‘Don’t worry about them,’ I replied.

I galloped back to my horse archers, who were already stringing arrows in their bows, while Kuban’s men levelled their spears in preparation for a charge. However, I decided that this was a task for Orodes. I sent a rider to fetch the Prince of Susiana and his men, and at the same time I ordered our whole line to fall back. This would temporarily expose the right flank of the Pontic Legion, which dismayed Gallia. As horns blew and the horsemen about-faced and pulled back she was at my side, her Amazons behind her. She pointed at the approaching enemy horsemen, who were still at least half a mile away.

‘Why are you running away from them? We should be attacking them. You are leaving your own foot soldiers exposed.’

My patience was fast running out. ‘If you were one of my officers I would have had you clapped in chains for your insubordination by now.’

With hindsight this was the wrong thing to say. ‘Don’t you dare speak to me that like,’ she bellowed. By now those horsemen within earshot had stopped their rearward movements and were sitting in their saddles observing their king and queen bickering.

‘Get back and obey my orders,’ I insisted.

‘I will not let you abandon our soldiers. Amazons,’ she shouted, ‘face front and prepare to charge.’ Her women nocked arrows, while Kuban’s men began moving their horses forward.

I swung in the saddle. ‘Stay where you are!’