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Authors: Peter Darman

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

Parthian Vengeance (37 page)

BOOK: Parthian Vengeance
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The lion circled me, possessed of a rage caused by his scent of prey and the pain from the arrow stuck in him. He curled his lip as me as he limped forward, then roared. He may have been wounded but he could still pounce again using his powerful back legs. Lions usually kill by swiping the head of their prey with their forepaws, the blow being sufficient to stun their victim. If he caught my head with such a blow it would break my neck. So I decided to attack him.

I screamed and ran at him with my dagger held in front of me in my left hand and my
spatha
over my head in my right. Unfortunately he had the same idea and came at me, leaping into the air with his claws extended and his fearsome canine teeth bared. I collapsed on the ground and tried to stab up at him as he passed over me but missed. I jumped back up and faced him again as he landed, turned and gave another mighty roar. Blood was seeping from his wound but the rage that possessed him meant it had not slowed him down. He could smell blood and wanted to taste it. He roared once more and again came at me. I had not time to run or move as he ran towards me, so I gripped the handles of my weapons and prepared to meet the great lump of claws, teeth and muscle that wanted to turn me into offal.

When the arrows hit him he did not drop but just veered sideways, faltering but remaining on his feet. Another volley of six arrows slammed into his side and he gave a faint roar and then halted. Then arrow after arrow struck his side, shoulder, rump, hind legs and neck. He turned his head in the direction from where the arrows had come, grunted and then collapsed on the ground, dead.

Riders appeared clutching bows, soldiers of Babylon’s royal guard in their dragon-skin armour, and then gamekeepers on foot with spears and long knives tucked in their belts, followed by a host of beaters, all looking dumfounded as I picked up my helmet, returned my sword to its scabbard and slid my dagger back in its sheath. Then Orodes and Axsen rode into view, the prince holding his bow that had an arrow still nocked in the bowstring. Their faces registered concern as they halted before me, Axsen looking at the dead lion and then at me.

I bowed my head to her. ‘My thanks, lady, your party appeared in the nick of time. Another few seconds and I would have been lion kill.’

‘Are you hurt, Pacorus?’ she said in a concerned voice.

‘No, lady, but Remus bolted and I don’t know where he is.’

She swung in her saddle and pointed at an officer mounted on a grey mare in front of a dozen spearmen carrying round shields.

‘Find him,’ she ordered.

The man saluted and led his men back down the track I had been riding on.

‘Where is your escort?’ enquired Orodes.

I walked over to where my bow lay on the ground and picked it up.

‘Didn’t bring one.’

Axsen looked at Orodes in confusion. ‘You went hunting alone?’

‘Actually, I was not hunting. I came looking for Orodes.’ I jerked my head at the dead lion. ‘He was the one doing the hunting.’

Orodes took the arrow from his bowstring and slipped it back into his quiver. ‘It is lucky for you that we were but a short distance away. I hate to think what would have happened if we had not arrived when we did.’

I brushed the dirt from my goose-feather crest and then put the helmet back on my head.

I smiled at him. ‘To coin one of Domitus’ phrases, I can always rely on you when I’m in a tight spot.’

The riders returned with my errant horse, and after I had checked him over I put my bow back in its case and regained my seat on his back.

‘We ride back to the city,’ announced Axsen, who looked very striking in brown leather boots, tan leggings and a long-sleeved blue silk shirt, her hair arranged in two long ponytails that had purple ribbons tide along their length.

She smiled at me. ‘Ride with us, Pacorus.’

We rode back to the city preceded by a score of the royal bodyguard with a score more behind us. After them came the gamekeepers and the beaters carrying the day’s spoils hanging from poles carried between two men: a dozen gazelles, three wild pigs, four hyenas and my lion.

‘A good day’s hunting?’ I asked, riding on the left of Orodes with Axsen on his other side.

‘A very agreeable day,’ said Axsen. ‘Though I would have never forgiven myself if anything had happened to you, Pacorus.’

‘If it had, lady, no blame could be apportioned to you.’

‘I shall have the lion’s skin sent to Dura as a memento of your visit to Babylon,’ she promised.

‘And a reminder to take an escort the next time you go on a hunting trip,’ added Orodes.

Axsen laughed. They were both obviously in a happy mood. I therefore decided to broach the subject of him remaining in Babylon for a while longer.

I cleared my throat. ‘Orodes, I wonder if I might ask a favour of you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well, the thing is, and with the present indeterminate situation along the Tigris, I thought it might be prudent for you to remain at Babylon with your bodyguard for a while. If you are in agreement, that is. And also if it pleases you, lady.’

‘It pleases me very much,’ replied Axsen.

‘I would consider it an honour,’ added Orodes, much to my surprise.

‘Well, that is agreed, then,’ I said.

The next morning, as I lay beside Gallia after she had given herself to me as a reward for carrying out her request, she stroked my scarred cheek and wrapped her naked body around mine.

‘You see, it was not that difficult.’

‘No, indeed,’ I agreed. ‘In fact, Orodes did not object at all.’

She began kissing my neck. ‘Why should he? Axsen is good company and this is a great city.’

She stopped caressing my body and looked at me.

‘It was rather foolish nearly being eaten by a lion, though.’

‘Axsen is having the skin sent back to Dura,’ I frowned. ‘A constant reminder of my foolishness.’

The next day we left for home, saying our goodbyes to Axsen and Orodes on the palace steps and also to Nergal and Praxima who were taking their men back to Mesene.

‘Now remember,’ I said to Nergal with an arm round his shoulder, ‘if that bastard Narses starts raiding your kingdom call on Yasser for help.’

Yasser was one of Haytham’s fierce subordinates whose lands sat directly across the Euphrates from Mesene. Formerly he used to cross the river to burn, loot and pillage Mesene, but since my friendship with Haytham and Nergal’s accession to the throne of that kingdom all raiding had stopped.

‘Your father will be unhappy at such a thing,’ he said.

‘What he does not know will not aggrieve him,’ I shot back. ‘Narses will think twice about violating other kingdoms if the result is Agraci war bands sweeping across his territory, that goes for Mithridates too. We must fight fire with fire.’

He looked pensive. ‘You think they will launch another invasion, Pacorus?’

‘I fear it will be so, my friend. But if we keep our quivers full and our swords sharp we will be triumphant in the end, of that I am sure. But you must call on Yasser’s aid if you need it. His reinforcements will reach you before mine do.’

We clasped each other’s forearms and I embraced Praxima and then we all rode from the palace. My cataphracts and their squires were already on the road north before we left the city, having struck camp at dawn. We joined them inland from the east bank of the Euphrates mid-morning and maintained a brisk pace for the rest of the day. Twelve days later we rode across the pontoon bridges that spanned the Euphrates and entered Dura. The horsemen were dressed in their full battle array and Vagharsh carried my griffin banner behind me. My wife and her Amazons wore their mail shirts and helmets with their cheekguards tied shut as we rode through the cheering crowds that lined the riverbanks and the route into the city.

Waiting for us in front of the Palmyrene Gate, drawn up for inspection, were Domitus and his legions. The cataphracts and Amazons formed into line behind Gallia and me as I faced them, now looking very different from the battered men who had limped home following the battle against Narses and Mithridates. Now the Durans and Exiles stood in their cohorts and centuries with clean tunics, burnished helmets and spotless shields, the points of thousands of javelins glinting in the sunlight.

Beyond the legionaries stood my horse archers arrayed in their dragons: one, two, three! There were three dragons, which meant that the one that had been sent east of the Tigris had returned. I squinted and saw Surena on his horse in front of them. I closed my eyes and gave thanks to Shamash for his and their safe delivery. Beyond them I caught sight of more horsemen. The lords’ horse archers, perhaps?

A blast of trumpets rent the air and then the colour parties stepped forward, one carrying the golden griffin, the other holding the silver lion of the Exiles. I drew my sword and held it before me in salute.

I nudged Remus forward to within a few feet of Domitus who stood a few paces in front of Drenis with the Duran colour party and Kronos with the colour party of the Exiles.

‘It is good to see you, my friends. The men look in better shape than the last time I clapped eyes on them.’

Domitus nodded. ‘Good to have you back, as well. Sorry to hear about Vardan.’ He looked beyond me to where the Amazons and cataphracts were lined up.

‘Where is Orodes?’

‘Staying in Babylon for a while. He sends his regards.’

Surena brought his horse to a halt in a cloud of dirt. ‘Hail, lord.’

‘Good to see you are alive, Surena. I trust you took care of my horse archers.’

Yes, lord,’ he beamed and then pointed to where the lords were gathered. ‘I bring you reinforcements, lord.’

I was confused. ‘Reinforcements?’

‘You and Gallia better get yourself settled and then all will be revealed,’ said Domitus.

‘We heard you nearly got eaten by a lion, lord,’ said Surena, grinning at me like an idiot.

‘Don’t believe all you hear, Surena,’ I replied.

‘So it’s true, then,’ said Domitus. ‘That’s what happens when you don’t have me to watch your back.’

The parade was dismissed and the various contingents returned to their quarters, the legions, minus those legionaries who had been on garrison duty in the city and Citadel, to the tented camp that stood west of the Palmyrene Gate; the horse archers and cataphracts to their stables and barracks in and near the Citadel. In the days following companies of horse archers would be assigned to the mud-brick forts north and south of the city to both alleviate the need for barracks inside the city and to provide the kingdom with security. As in Hatra the forts were not designed to be major strongholds but rather to be the eyes and ears to any hostile incursions.

It was late by the time we were reunited with our children in the Citadel after being welcomed at the foot of the palace steps by Rsan and had washed the Mesopotamian dust from our bodies. I told him to convene the meeting of the council for the next day. We took our evening meal on the palace balcony with our children and Dobbai, who laid a bony hand on my arm and told me that she was glad I was back where I belonged. When the children had eaten and fallen asleep in our arms we carried them to their bedrooms and returned to the terrace as the sun set in the west and turned the desert beyond the river blood red.

I looked at Dobbai, this frail old woman swathed in black robes sitting in a great wicker chair stuffed with cushions, Gallia fussing around her and wrapping her in a blanket as twilight enveloped the earth and the temperature began to drop. Known throughout the empire as the feared sorceress at the court of King of Kings Sinatruces, I had first met her some fourteen years ago when I had accompanied my father to Ctesiphon after I had captured a Roman eagle near the Kingdom of Zeugma. Her appearance, lack of manners and conduct at that time had disgusted me, but then I was a naïve, arrogant young fool who judged people on appearances. I had seen her briefly after I had returned from Italy and again when she had appeared one day at Dura shortly after I had assumed its kingship. She had stayed ever since, becoming the confidant of my wife and the guardian of our children. And for that I thanked Shamash for her presence.

Servants brought us warm wine to drink and lit oil lamps on stands to illuminate the terrace as the sun departed the world for another day.

‘You were right,’ I said to Dobbai. ‘I underestimated Mithridates and Narses and nearly got the army wiped out.’

‘And yourself killed,’ added Gallia.

I chuckled. ‘If I had led the army to disaster I would have deserved to die.’ I looked at Dobbai, then Gallia.

‘I have my two favourite women to thank for my salvation.’ I raised my cup to them. ‘So I salute you both.’

Dobbai waved away my gesture. ‘You have learned a valuable lesson, son of Hatra. The two vipers who rule the empire have many weapons in their armoury whereas you have but one, your sword. You think too much of your soldiers. I heard that you could have escaped with Prince Orodes but chose to stay and play with them in the desert.’

I frowned. ‘What kind of king deserts his soldiers?’

She laughed. ‘A living one.’

‘I would rather die alongside them than do such a base thing as to save my life at the expense of theirs.’

She pointed a bony finger at me. ‘And that is your weakness. Did you know that Narses murdered his own parents so that he could become king?

‘By the look of disdain on your face I see that you did not. The lives of others mean nothing to him, or Mithridates for that matter. They laugh at your attachment to mere soldiers.’

‘One day, my mere soldiers as you call them will destroy those two and restore the empire to its former glory.’

‘Have you noticed, my dear,’ said Dobbai to Gallia, ‘that men always take comfort in an imagined past when truth and justice ruled the world and there was no famine, plague, war or tyranny.’

Gallia looked at me sympathetically. ‘Alas, I fear there has never been such a time.’

‘And nor will there be,’ said Dobbai, sipping at her wine.

‘Then why do we bother to fight at all?’ I asked.

Dobbai drained her cup and then rose from her chair, Gallia walking over to assist her and then linking her arm in the old woman’s.

BOOK: Parthian Vengeance
6.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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