Parthian Vengeance (27 page)

My wife had the most beautiful eyes of any woman, their shade of blue purer and more striking than the surface of the Euphrates on a high summer’s day, but now they bored into me like two thunderbolts.

‘This
idiot
saved your arse a few days ago,’ she shot back at me.

Orodes jumped up and placed an arm round my shoulders.

‘My friends,’ he implored, ‘let us not bicker thus. Let us instead thank the gods that we are safe and all together. If we argue among ourselves then the laughter of my stepbrother will be our only reward.’

He was right, of course. I apologised to Nergal and Gallia and the day ended better than it had begun. Later, when we were alone, Gallia rebuked me for provoking my father. On one level she was right; it was not appropriate for a son to criticise his father, much less in public. But it irked me that he and Vardan could not see the logic that was staring them both in the face, that Mithridates and Narses intended to deal with all their enemies and that Hatra and Babylon, along with Dura, were all in that category. With Gotarzes gone Mithridates now ruled unchallenged from the Tigris to the Himalayas and south to the Persian Gulf and Arabian Sea. In the north the kingdoms of Hyrcania and Margiana, whose rulers had both pledged their allegiance to me, were under assault from the nomads of the northern steppes. If they too fell then Dura would lose two more allies.

As I lay in my cot in the early hours of the next day staring at the roof of the tent, Gallia sleeping beside me, I burned with a desire to seek a battle with the enemy. If I killed Mithridates then his malice would be gone from the world. He had no sons to carry on his line. But then, his demise would allow Narses to seize the high crown. But if he too was killed; what then? No doubt his sons would swear blood vengeance against me. But they too were probably with his army. It was not unconceivable that they might also fall, in which case all would be settled. No, not all, for the empire would then need a new king of kings. Years ago his friend Balas, King of Gordyene, had proposed my father as a suitable candidate following Sinatruces’ death. My father had been obstinate in his refusal to be put forward for the position. But now? Perhaps he could be persuaded to take the high crown in the interests of preserving the empire. Hatra was rich, her army strong and my father was widely respected as a wise and just king who had the empire’s best interests at heart. I smiled to myself. It all suddenly made perfect sense.

Chapter 7

The next day we broke camp and headed south along the Euphrates, though not actually along the eastern bank of the river itself. We were less than a hundred miles north of Babylon. Inland from the river for a distance of around two miles was a continuous belt of land dotted with villages and fields. This was Mesopotamia, which in Greek means ‘land between the rivers’, the fertile area that had for thousands of years produced food, building materials and clothing in abundance for its people. In the spring the Euphrates, which began its long journey in the great Taurus Mountains in the north, was swelled with melt waters that threatened to engulf the towns and villages along its length with flooding. But the ancients had learned long ago to tame the great river with dams, dykes and irrigation canals. When the level of the river rose the dams and dykes prevented the land from being flooded, while the canals channelled the water inland where it could be stored and used to irrigate crops and water livestock.

Each Babylonian village was home to between a hundred and two hundred people and was surrounded by fields and orchards that produced barley, dates, wheat, lentils, peas, olives, grapes, pomegranates and vegetables. There were also fields of flax, which once harvested, cleaned and combed was woven into linen to make clothing. It was also used to make fishermen’s nets. The villagers also kept goats, sheep and cows in pens next to their homes to produce milk, cheese, meat and leather.

This stretch of the river was densely populated and farmed, and the last thing the villagers needed was an army marching across their fields. Therefore we marched in three great columns inland from where the fields and farms ended and the desert began. Vardan and his Babylonians formed the right-hand column as we rode south, the villagers stopping their work and cheering him and his senior officers as they passed by their homes. No doubt many who rode in the ranks of his horse archers were recruited from these same villages, and would return to their farming once the campaign was over – those who still lived. My father rode with Vardan as it was the custom for the kings to travel in each other’s company when on campaign. In his place Vistaspa commanded Hatra’s army that made up the central column.

Dura’s army and Nergal’s horsemen formed the left-hand column of our combined forces and I rode at its head. I was still annoyed with my father and so preferred to avoid his company.

‘You are being childish,’ Gallia rebuked me as walked beside our horses across the parched ground. Like yesterday the sky was heaped with sullen grey clouds that threatened to burst but withheld their rain, creating a humid and uncomfortable atmosphere, rather like that which had existed in Vardan’s pavilion the day before.

‘I prefer the company of my friends to that of kings,’ I replied.

Orodes held the reins of his horse as he walked beside me, while on my other side the long, gangly legs of Nergal paced the ground. Behind us Gallia and Praxima led their mounts.

We had ridden hard during the morning, covering around fifteen miles, and then the whole army had dismounted so as not to tax the horses unduly. We would soon halt for an hour or so before resuming our ride south. The day after tomorrow we would be at Babylon, unless Mithridates chose to march north to meet us.

‘This continual bickering between you and your father is tiresome Pacorus,’ continued Gallia.

‘A father and son should not quarrel so,’ said Orodes sternly.

‘Orodes is right,’ added Nergal.

‘I have no wish to argue with my father,’ I said.

‘As long as he agrees with you,’ interrupted Gallia.

‘As long as he sees Mithridates for what he is,’ I corrected her. ‘I don’t want to see my father’s head split open by an assassin’s sword like mine nearly was.’

‘Surely he would not attempt to murder your father?’ said Praxima.

‘Why not?’ I replied. ‘He has already killed his own father and now Gotarzes.’

I glanced at Orodes who stared ahead with unblinking eyes.

‘I am sorry, my friend,’ I said.

He managed a weak smile. ‘You are right in what you say, Pacorus, but my stepbrother is clever as well as malicious. I have no doubt that he has sent many messages to your father professing his friendship and allegiance. For your father it is no small thing to take arms against the king of kings.’

‘And in truth it is no small matter for Mesene,’ said Nergal.

‘I know that, Nergal, and I appreciate your presence here. You are a loyal friend.’

‘And we are glad to be by your side, Pacorus,’ added Praxima.

Brave and fearless Praxima. She was as good as any man on the battlefield but beyond the bravado I knew that she and her husband were in great peril. Like Babylon Mesene occupied land between the Tigris and Euphrates, and directly opposite Nergal’s kingdom, across the Tigris, lay the Kingdom of Susiana, Mithridates’ domain. Its capital Susa was only a hundred and fifty miles from Uruk. At least while Gotarzes still lived the Kingdom of Elymais acted as a counterweight to Susiana, but now Mesene potentially faced the full might of Mithridates’ wrath. That is why he must be dealt with quickly. If Mithridates and Narses were allowed to turn their full strength against Mesene, Nergal’s kingdom would crumble.

‘How many troops can you raise, Nergal?’ I asked.

‘Five thousand horse archers I have brought with me,’ he replied. ‘These are my professional troops, men who are paid by me to be full-time soldiers. Uruk has a garrison of a further thousand men, trained and equipped after the Greek fashion, each man with bronze helmet, leather cuirass, bronze-faced shield, spear and sword. In times of emergency I can muster a further ten thousand horse archers at most.’

‘It is a credit to you that you can raise such a force,’ remarked Orodes.

And so it was, for Mesene was a poor kingdom and the campaign that Chosroes had waged against me had cost him his army, his city and ultimately his life. A fair number of the kingdom’s lords and their men had also died before the walls of Dura and later in the defence of Uruk.

‘How many Ma’adan have you recruited?’ I asked.

‘A third of my horse archers are men from the marshes,’ Nergal replied. ‘They are good warriors, used to living off their wits and unafraid of hardships. Much like Surena.’

‘Ah, yes,’ I said. ‘Surena. You heard that Gallia sent him and a thousand of my horse archers, men you used to command Nergal, into the heart of enemy territory. I had great hopes for Surena and now he lies dead in the desert.’

Nergal was shocked. ‘Surena is dead?’

‘Of course he isn’t,’ snapped Gallia. ‘Pacorus whines like an old mule. Surena is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He fought the soldiers of Chosroes for many years with only a long knife and a ragged band of feral youths for company.’

‘I did not know you took such an interest in him,’ I said.

‘I don’t,’ she replied irritably, ‘but Viper is forever talking about him and as I am very fond of her I listen to her words.’

I tried a clever riposte. ‘And soon you will have to tell her that she is a widow.’

‘Don’t be an idiot, Pacorus. Do you think I would willingly send him and a thousand of Dura’s soldiers to their deaths? Do you think I am so stupid, that I know nothing of war even though I have fought by your side these past ten years?’

‘Of course not, I merely meant…’

Her voice rose in anger. ‘I have saved your life on more than one occasion, when your short-sightedness nearly got you and the men you led killed. And now you mock me in front of our friends.’

‘Gallia, I would never…’

Her tone got sharper. ‘Shut up! I grow weary of your voice.’

We walked on in silence for another few minutes, the only sound being the jangling of the horses’ bits and the tramp of our boots on the ground. At length Gallia spoke once more, her voice calmer and more measured.

‘As I have told you, Pacorus, before we left Dura Dobbai told me to send Surena across the Tigris. She said that if I did do so he would reap a rich harvest.’

I mumbled an acknowledgement of her words but said no more. I was still annoyed that she had sent a third of my horse archers to God knows where. That said, the visions and advice of Dobbai were not to be dismissed lightly so I let the matter rest. I still believed Surena to be dead, though.

That night the armies of the kings camped inland from the Euphrates. The logistics of watering over forty thousand horses and ten thousand camels were huge, and so bad-tempered quartermasters scurried around like demented wildcats as they allocated companies to the dozens of small reservoirs that dotted the landscape. Fed by canals that extended inland from the Euphrates, these reservoirs in turn fed a myriad of irrigation channels that delivered water to the fields. In this way crops were irrigated, the bellies of the villagers were filled when they were harvested and the surpluses were sent to Babylon as taxes. The canals, dams and irrigation ditches were so crucial to the life of the kingdom that each village was charged with the responsibility for the upkeep of the irrigation system surrounding it. Each village’s headman was paid by the treasury in Babylon to ensure that the system functioned smoothly, on pain of death. This appeared harsh, but the lives of the villagers depended on the fields being irrigated. If the crops failed, they starved.

The weather had not broken and so the early evening was still humid as the squires put up our tents. The horses were quartered in stables made from wooden poles and linen sheets and the camels were confined to corrals. I had sent Byrd and his scouts south the day before. He returned two hours before sundown with his black-clad companions. His horse and those of his men stood sweating with their heads bowed as he slid off his mount in front of my tent. Gallia was standing beside me.

‘You men take your horses to the stables to be watered and fed,’ I ordered, ‘then get some food inside you.’

I pointed at a waiting squire who walked over and took the reins of Byrd’s horse from him. I grabbed Byrd’s elbow.

‘Come inside and take the weight off your feet.’

Inside he slumped into a chair and stretched out his legs. Orodes handed him a cup of water then sat beside him. Gallia and I likewise seated ourselves.

Byrd drained his cup and unwrapped the turban from his head. His swarthy features matched the black shadows under his eyes.

‘Babylon still under siege,’ he said at last.

‘You rode all the way to the city?’ asked Orodes. No wonder his horse and those of his scouts looked done-in.

Byrd shook his head. ‘No need. Many enemy tents pitched all round city. No smoke or fire coming from Babylon, so it holds out.’

‘We had better get word to Vardan,’ said Orodes, ‘to let him know that his daughter is safe, at least for the present.’

He stood up and shook Byrd’s hand, much to the amusement of my chief scout.

‘I will ride to Vardan’s camp myself.’ Orodes bowed his head to Gallia, then me and left.

Gallia smiled. ‘You would think that after all these years Orodes would be less formal in our company.’

‘Manners and protocol are important to him,’ I said. ‘Perhaps more so now he no longer has a kingdom to go back to.’

‘If ever there was a man who would make a just and great king, it is Orodes,’ she mused.

‘He will be a king one day,’ I said. ‘That I promise.’

‘We see many people fleeing north on road,’ said Byrd. ‘Men, women, children, some driving goats and cattle before them. They flee from enemy. Tell of much killing.’ He glanced at Gallia. ‘And raping.’

‘And if ever there was a king that deserved to be deposed,’ said Gallia dryly, ‘it is Mithridates.’