Carrhae (12 page)

‘O Shamash, great lord, exalted judge,’ she called, ‘the one who supervises the regions of heaven and earth, the one who directs the dead and the living, give life to these statues for the overthrow of those who desire to destroy your subjects. We bow before you and pledge our lives to you and the other gods who have blessed us.’

She let her arms drop to her sides and stood facing the water for a few moments, then turned and looked at us.

‘It is done. We must leave this place. And stay silent.’

I looked at Domitus who appeared completely bemused by it all while Vagharsh looked bored. Drenis caught my eye and shook his head. Kronos was looking at his blood-splattered arm with disgust. Vagises appeared somewhat awed by it all while Thumelicus looked disinterested. The night was completely silent and still as we followed Dobbai back to the city. I looked at the marble-smooth black surface of the Euphrates and then at the far bank. Everything was calm and unruffled. Last in line, I glanced back at the statues standing motionless a few feet from the water’s edge and then saw, to the south, what appeared to be a mist over the river.

As the seconds passed the mist seemed to be getting closer, a thick wall of whitish-grey that covered not only the water but also the riverbanks. How could this be? There was no wind to move it and yet the mist was rolling towards me. I stood transfixed by this celestial wall and then felt a tug on my shirt.

‘Hurry, son of Hatra,’ hissed Dobbai, ‘you will die if you remain here.’

I walked briskly beside her as we tried to catch up with the others, occasionally glancing back at the mist that was now not only behind us but had also enveloped the far riverbank. We caught up with my comrades and walked with them in silence along the city’s western wall to reach the Palmyrene Gate. The atmosphere had now changed from hot and airless to cold and clammy and I began to shiver. Then, suddenly, the acrid scent of sulphur entered my nostrils to make me retch.

We reached the entrance coughing and Dobbai ordered the great wood and iron gates to be closed. She ordered the guards to lock themselves in the gatehouse. By now the legionaries who had lined our route had dispersed back to barracks or camp and as Rsan, under orders from Dobbai, had ordered a city wide curfew, only eight of us remained on the main street of Dura as the temperature continued to drop.

Thumelicus rubbed his hands and breathed on them and I noticed that his breath misted.

‘We must get back to the Citadel quickly,’ hissed Dobbai.

We retraced our steps up the main street as the citizens of Dura hid in their homes and prayed to the gods that had been unleashed on the world. We quickened our pace to the Citadel, though Dobbai’s old and frail legs meant she quickly fell behind. Thumelicus stopped, turned and ran back to her and then scooped her up in his great arms and began running towards the Citadel. Dobbai did not protest as I looked back to see a great wave of mist rise up above the Palmyrene Gate.

We sprinted the last hundred paces to the Citadel and then, after Thumelicus had put her down, Dobbai ordered the gates to be closed and sent the guards back to barracks. She also shouted at those on the walls to return to their quarters. We stood gasping for air in the empty courtyard, the air now chill and burning our lungs as we gulped it in.

‘We are safe now,’ said Dobbai calmly, ‘they cannot enter. You may speak.’

Thumelicus rubbed his arms. ‘I’ve never known it to be so cold.’

‘That is what happens when the veil that separates two worlds, the one of mortals, the other of deities, is temporarily torn,’ remarked Dobbai.

‘Let us get some warm wine inside us,’ I said.

‘What is that?’ asked Kronos, cupping a hand to his ear.

We stood and looked around and then I heard a low growl and then a snarl. The noises seemed to be coming from the shadows next to the palace.

‘A stray dog, that is all,’ said Domitus.

Then there was a louder growl and a thunderous unholy bark that sent shivers down my spine.

‘If it’s a dog it must be the size of a bull judging by that noise,’ remarked Thumelicus.

We heard frenzied barking and snarling all around and we huddled together in fear of our lives. The noises were not coming from the Citadel but from outside, from the foot of the escarpment. The angry, demonic growling, barking and snarling grew louder and louder until we were forced to cover our ears. Then it suddenly changed into a chorus of savage howls that filled the air and pierced our brains like red-hot needles. I fell to my knees and screamed in pain as the howls became higher pitched until I could take it no longer, and was on the verge of passing out. Then suddenly there was silence.

Dobbai, looking pale and exhausted, nodded at me. ‘It is over. The gods have answered my plea and have unleashed the ageless ones upon the world. Now the veil has been restored.’

‘What about that mist?’ asked Vagises. ‘I have never seen anything like it.’

‘We can see it from the palace terrace,’ I said.

We raced up the palace steps, through the porch and reception hall into the throne room, through the door at the rear that led to the private wing and the terrace. We ran onto the terrace and raced over to the balustrade to peer at the mist, except there was no mist, not a trace of it. The moonlight illuminated the still waters of the Euphrates and the surrounding terrain. There was no wind, no unworldly noises and no cold, clammy air. The temperature was once more warm and pleasant. Had it all been a monstrous dream?

We looked at each other in confusion as Dobbai wandered out onto the terrace and announced that she was going to bed and advised us to do the same. But we each pulled up a chair so we could sit and stare through the stone columns of the balustrade at the river below, intent on seeing any other divine apparitions. We said nothing to each other as we waited for the gods to reveal themselves once more, but gradually we all drifted into a deep sleep.

When I awoke it was morning and the sun was shining in my eyes. My mouth felt parched and my limbs ached. Around me the others slowly roused from their slumber and also began complaining of aches and pains. The guards had returned to their positions in the palace and I ordered one to go to the kitchens to fetch us all some breakfast. I left my complaining companions and went to the barracks to find the officer commanding the garrison’s horse archers. I ordered him to send a detachment to the base of the escarpment to bring back the clay statues that we had left there before returning to the terrace.

The others were being served fruit, bread, cheese, wafers and yoghurt to fill their empty bellies, and water and fruit juice to satisfy their thirsts. I joined them and ate a great chunk of cheese and then a large portion of freshly baked bread, then gulped down two cups of water. The servants had also brought silver bowls so we could fill them with water and wash our faces and cleanse the blood from our hands and arms.

The flustered chief steward came to inform me that the dead chickens and their cages had been removed from the throne room and the floor had been cleaned. After he had left the officer from the horse archers arrived, holding his helmet in the crook of his arm and bowing his head.

‘Did your men bring back the statues?’ I asked him, cutting off a slice of watermelon with my dagger.

‘No, majesty, there were no statues.’

The others stopped their eating and looked at him.

‘Are you sure?’ questioned Vagises.

‘Quite sure, sir,’ he replied, ‘there were only…’

He glanced at Vagises and then at me.

‘Go on,’ I ordered.

‘We found only six sets of scratch marks in the ground by the waters’ edge.’

Domitus raised an eyebrow. ‘Scratch marks?’

‘More like deep gouge marks, sir, as though someone had been hacking at the earth with an entrenching tool.’

Chapter 3

Three days later Gallia and the children were allowed to return to the palace. Dobbai had confined herself to her bedroom and had asked not to be disturbed, saying that the ritual had exhausted her and she needed time and isolation to recuperate. The children were disappointed but I explained to them that she was now an old woman who needed lots of rest. Claudia was not fooled, though, and said that Dobbai had told her before she had left the palace that she was going to use strong magic. I shuddered to think what else she had imparted to my daughter over the years.

‘And did it work?’ asked Gallia as she brushed her hair in our bedroom that evening, a slight wind ruffling the net curtains at the entrance to the balcony.

I smiled. ‘Well, as far as I know the Romans and Armenians have not disappeared.’

She turned and frowned at me. ‘Don’t be flippant, it does not suit you.’

I rose from the bed and stood behind her to kiss her on top of her head. I told her about the clay statues, the cold mist that came from nowhere, the chilling growls and howls that filled the air and the disappearance of the statues the next morning. I did not tell her that all those who had taken part might be in danger of divine retribution.

She placed her brush on the table and looked up at me. ‘I hope you are wearing a charm to ward off evil.’

‘Evil?’

She stood and ran a finger down my scarred cheek. ‘I am not a fool, Pacorus. I know that Dobbai sent the children and me away because the spell she was going to weave was potentially dangerous to those taking part.’

I reached inside my shirt and pulled out the lock of her hair I always wore round my neck. ‘This is the only charm I need. Besides, Dobbai called on the gods to protect the empire and since I fight to protect Parthia I don’t have anything to worry about.’

She looked at me with her beautiful blue eyes. ‘Perhaps. Let us hope the gods see things the way you do.’

‘We should have held the ceremony weeks ago. Perhaps then Vata might still be alive and the Armenians would not hold half of my brother’s kingdom.’

She shook her head. ‘Vata took the decision to fight the Armenians, no one else.’

I turned away from her and walked to the balcony entrance, parting the curtains to stare at the night sky.

‘It is my fault he is dead.’

‘What?’

‘When the kings faced the Armenians all those months ago I urged my father to attack them. I knew we could have beaten them that day but he declined to fight. When they returned Vata must have believed that he alone could defeat them.’

She walked over and placed her arms round me. ‘Then he was a fool and paid for his foolishness with his life.’

‘And half my father’s kingdom,’ I added.

Orodes and Nergal arrived at Dura five days later with their combined forces, their men pitching tents on the east bank of the Euphrates, directly opposite the Citadel. It was the first time Orodes had been back to the city since his coronation as king of kings and he received a rapturous reception from the citizens. He had always been a popular figure and now was even more so. People believed that the empire was in a pair of safe and just hands after the tyranny of Mithridates. Gallia and I rode out to greet him, Nergal and Praxima and escorted them through the city to the Citadel, along a route thronged with cheering crowds.

‘If they only knew the peril the empire faced,’ Orodes said to me, smiling and waving at the people as young girls tossed rose petals at him.

‘Sometimes it is better to live in ignorance, my friend.’

That night we gave a great feast in the banqueting hall to celebrate the arrival of our friends and their senior officers. It was an opportunity for old friends to meet again for Orodes and his bodyguard had once lived in the city and had fought as part of Dura’s army. He insisted on ignoring protocol and sat with Alcaeus, Domitus, Kronos, Vagises and other senior officers from my army, men he had shared many dangers with. Gallia and I occupied the top table with Nergal, Praxima and Dobbai, who seemed to have regained her old vigour and appeared to be pleased that we were all together again.

I was especially delighted to have Nergal and Praxima back at Dura. Nergal had been my second-in-command in Italy when we had fought for Spartacus and although Vagises was an excellent leader it had been Nergal who had forged my horse archers into a fearsome weapon. I had no regrets about making them rulers of their own kingdom but sometimes I yearned for the old times when we had been all together.

Dobbai must have noticed that I was in a reflective mood as she remained beside me when Nergal left the table to speak with some of the men he used to command.

‘The years pass and yet we do not notice until it is too late,’ she said.

‘I did not know you were a philosopher,’ I replied.

I pointed at Nergal who was in fits of laughter among a group of Duran horse archers. ‘Nineteen years ago Nergal and I were captured by the Romans and taken to Italy. It seems like yesterday and yet it is also another world. So much has happened since that time, and yet here we are on the verge of another campaign. After Susa I just yearned for peace and yet that is the one thing that seems to elude me.’

I looked at her haggard face. ‘Will I ever know peace?’

‘Alas, son of Hatra, it is both your fate and doom to be a great warlord. You cannot stray from the path the gods have chosen for you. You cannot change your destiny.’

Her words gave me scant comfort but the company of my friends made it an enjoyable evening and the next day I rode with Orodes and Nergal to the legionary camp. Domitus and Kronos arranged a parade of the Durans and Exiles to honour our royal guests and afterwards we retired to Domitus’ command tent. Orodes was still the same amiable character I had known for years but I noticed that there were now some worry lines on his face. I suspected the onerous office of king of kings was already taking its toll.

‘Axsen refuses to stay at Ctesiphon when I am not there,’ he told us, ‘she dislikes its atmosphere and associates it with Mithridates. She has moved back to Babylon.’

‘Babylon is her home,’ I said. ‘Besides, it is only a short distance from Ctesiphon.’