Julian (64 page)

Everything goes too easily. Yet why should I be surprised? The gods are with me and the spirit of Alexander whispers: advance, to the farthest edge of the world!

Priscus
: As usual the spirit of Alexander was over-ambitious. We had enough troubles taking Maiozamalcha, much less India and China. But at this time Julian was not mad, despite Maximus's best efforts. There was no immediate plan to conquer farthest Asia. Julian anticipated a short campaign in Persia, winter at Tarsus, and then an expedition to India.

Julian does not describe the siege and fall of Maiozamalcha and neither shall I. As I recall, the city was on a high bluff overlooking the river. To get to it one had to climb steep cliffs, eminently suited for defence. The first day a frontal assault was attempted. It failed. Meanwhile, tunnels were being dug beneath the walls. The second day the siege engines were brought up. The air was filled with the roaring sound of rocks being catapulted against the walls. The sun burned fiercely. Defenders and attackers were soon exhausted. But Julian drove the men to the limit of their strength, for he had no time to waste in a siege so near Ctesiphon and the Great King's army. Finally, word came from the tunnel builders that they were ready to break into the city. That night, Julian attacked the walls with his army while the troops below ground entered the city through the floor of the back room of an empty tavern. The city surrendered.

We have had excellent luck. Maiozamalcha fell with few casualties for us. I have just received Nabdates, the Persian commander. He hailed me as Lord of the World and I have spared his life. This should make a good impression. If the Persian lords believe that I am merciful, they will be more apt to surrender when overwhelmed. I hope so, since there is nothing so demoralizing for an army as to fight long sieges for unimportant cities.

Nabdates swears that he does not know where the Great King is, and I believe him. He suspects that Sapor is not at the capital but somewhere to the south. In any case, we shall soon meet, the Great King and I.

I write this in my tent beside the river. On its high hill the city of Maiozamalcha burns like a torch in the black night. With difficulty I prevented a slaughter in the city. The Gauls regard Persian resistance as an affront; they always do. Incidentally, they discovered several hundred women hidden in the citadel. They promptly drew lots for them. At such times, the officers vanish and the men take over. Quite by acddent, I happened to be near the square during the lottery.

The women were huddled together, along with the city's treasure: gold coins, ornaments, bolts of silk, whatever had been found in the ruins had been brought together for a fair division. One of the Petulantes, seeing me, shouted, "Something for Julian!"

So I joined the men on foot, like a legionnaire.

The centurion in charge of the lottery indicated one of the piles of gold. "That's your share, soldier," he said, using the traditional phrase. I thanked him and took a single piece of gold. Then the men began to shout that I should take one of the women. They know of course that I am celibate, and find this fact infinitely comic. I refused amiably. But they kept pressing me. So I looked at the crowd of wretched women, thinking to take a child and set her free. But there was none, only a very handsome boy of about ten. So I pointed to him. The men were delighted. Better a boylover than a cellbate on the throne!

The boy turned out to be a deaf-mute of great intelligence. The signs he makes with his hands are swift and graceful and I find that I can understand him easily. I have made him my personal servant and he seems happy.

I am depressed tonight. Ordinarily, I would be exhilarated by victory. I can't think what is wrong. Perhaps it is the memoir. I have been dictating memories of my childhood at Macellum and remembering those years always puts me in a bad mood.

Interesting note: One of the men of the Herculani reports that at the height of the battle today he saw a huge man in strange armour climbing one of the siege ladders. Later he saw this same warrior in the thick of the fighting, but he could not identify him nor could any of the others who saw him. They are all certain that this warrior was the war god Ares himself. I must ask Maximus to find out.

12 May

It is afternoon. I am seated in the throne room of one of the Great King's palaces, a fine building in the Roman style, more like a country villa than a formal palace. Next to it is a fenced-in game preserve. Here all sorts of wild animals are kept in a wooded area… lions, boars and that truly terrible beast, the Persian bear. The men have just broken down the fences and are now hunting and killing the animals. I should have preferred for them not to indulge in this slaughter but they must be kept in a good mood, for we are close to Ctesiphon and the decisive battle. Jovian has just come and gone. He brought me the skin of a lion he killed, quite a large beast. "A match for the one on your bed."

I thanked Jovian warmly. Of the Galilean officers, he is the one I trust the most, possibly because he is the stupidest. I gave him some wine we had found in the cellar of the palace. He drank it so greedily that I gave him two more flagons to take with him when he left. He was most pleased and slightly drunk.

Priscus and I explored the palace together. It is both beautiful and comfortable, a combination Roman emperors are not used to. Apparently the servants fled shortly before we arrived, leaving a dinner still warm in the kitchen. I was about to taste the contents of one of the pots when the deaf-mute boy struck the ladle from my hand. Then he tasted the mess, indicating that I should beware of poison. I never think of such things. No, that is not true. I do occasionally wonder if my evening bowl of polenta contains my death, but I never hesitate to eat it. If that is to be my end, there is nothing I can do about it. Fortunately, the dinner the Persians left us was not poisoned.

I have set the secretaries to work in the throne room, a cool dim room with latticed windows and a red lacquered throne on which I now sit scribbling. The Great King lives far more luxuriously than I. In one of the rooms we discovered hundreds of his silk robes… Priscus insists that I give them to Maximus.

Tonight I have planned a large dinner for the military staff. I have the beginnings of a plan for this last phase. Contrary to what historians may think, wars are mostly improvisation. One usually has an ultimate goal, but the means of attaining it cannot be determined in advance. That is why the favourite deity of generals—and of Rome—is Fortune.

16 May

Encamped for three days now at Coche. This is a village near the site of the now vanished city of Seleucia, built by Alexander's general. Farther on are the ruins of yet another city, destroyed in the last century by the Emperor Carus. I thought it good policy to show this to the men, demonstrating yet again how victorious Roman arms have been in Persia.

I am still struck by the beauty of the countryside. Flowers bloom; fruits ripen; there are many forests; much water. This is an idyllic part of the world and I am sad that so many of its cities must be put to the torch. But what men build they can rebuild. I am with the Stoics, who regard all life as an infinite series of growth and decline, each temporary terminus marked with the clean impartiality of fire.

Near the city Carus destroyed, there is a small lake which empties into the Tigris. Here we beheld a gruesome sight. Impaled on stakes were the entire family of Mamersides, the officer who surrendered Pirisabora to us. Thus cruelly does the Great King punish those who disobey him. It was horrible to see not only women but children put to death in this painful way.

While we were at the lake, Ormisda and his Persian court (he now has over a hundred Persians in attendance on him) appeared, with Nabdates, the governor of Maiozamalcha. Ormisda saluted me formally. Then he said, "Augustus, I have passed sentence of death on Nabdates."I asked him why.

Ormisda was grim. "Before the siege, we had a private understanding. He was to surrender the city to us. It was all arranged. Then he broke his oath to me, the highest oath a Persian can swear. Therefore, as Great King, I must put him to death, by fire." I was impressed by Ormisda's manner. The closer we come to Ctesiphon, the more imperial and Persian he becomes. So I gave my assent, and the wretched man with his broken legs was dragged to the stake. I left before the burning began. I dislike all executions except those done with the sword.

I write these lines seated on a bench in what looks to be some nobleman's park. It is a beautiful day; the sun is warm but not hot; as far as the eye can see the countryside is green and blooming. I am certain now of success. A messenger from Arintheus has just come and gone. A fortress some twenty miles to the east will not surrender.

I shall have to go there to determine whether or not there should be a siege. Now another messenger approaches. I feel lazy and comfortable. I would like to sit in this park for ever. A warm south wind suddenly brings me the scent of flowers: roses?

Priscus
: The second messenger probably brought him the bad news that three of Dagalaif's cohorts were set upon by the Persians at a town called Sabatha. While the cohorts were thus engaged, guerrillas sneaked up behind the army and slaughtered most of the pack animals and their attendants. This was a severe blow and Julian was furious with Dagalaif, who had left the beasts unguarded.

As for "the fortress some twenty miles to the east", which would not surrender, Julian rode too close to its walls and was nearly killed; his armour-bearer was wounded.

That night Julian ordered the siege engines to be put in place. Unfortunately, the moon was nearly full and night was like day. While the mantlets and turrets were being placed against the walls, the Persians suddenly threw open their gates and charged our siege troops with sword and javelin. They killed the better part of a cohort, as well as the tribune in command.

How do I remember all this so clearly? Because I have just received by post a rough draft of Ammianus Marcellinus's account of Julian's Persian campaign. I wrote him months ago to ask him if he had written anything about those days. In a covering letter, he says that he kept "untidy notes in Persia, as usual". I assume that his account is reliable. He is particularly good at describing military action. He ought to be. As a professional soldier, he served from Britain to Persia. I would send you his history, but since it is in Latin you won't be able to read it and I am sure that you wouldn't want to go to the expense of having it translated. By the way, he says that he intends to write the history of Julian's reign "just as it occurred". I suppose he means "deadpan", as though Julian's reign took place a thousand years ago and were not of any contemporary interest. I wish him luck.

Where was I? The mauling of one of our cohorts by the Persians. As soon as the Persians had done their bloody work, they escaped inside the fortress. The next day Julian threw the full force of his army against the fortress. After fierce fighting, it fell. Julian was physically exhausted by this engagement. I am told that he led the siege himself, fighting for thirteen hours without a break. I don't know because our camp was pitched ten miles away. We of the court rested comfortably while the soldiers fought.

What do I remember of that particular time? Not much. I used to play draughts with Anatolius. We would sit in front of his tent and play on a portable table whose top was inlaid with squares like a game board. Inside the tent, the clerks laboured incessantly. The Emperor's correspondence is always kept up just as though he were at the palace in Constantinople. No matter how desperate the military situation, he must answer his mail.

Once when Anatolius and I were busy at draughts, Victor swept through the camp at the head of a column of light cavalry. We were nearly blinded by the dust. Anatolius was furious. "He does that deliberately! He knew we were sitting here!" He dabbed the dust from his eyes with the edge of his cloak.

"He behaves rather as the Gauls are supposed to." I said this to be challenging. Anatolius was usually close-mouthed about the various factions at court.

"He is a good deal worse than any Gaul. More ambitious, too."

"For the purple?"

"I can't say." Anatolius pursed his small mouth.

"What do you know?"

"Augustus knows what I know." He said no more. I then won four silver pieces from him, which he never paid me. That is the sort of historian I am.

We are again spending the night in one of the Great King's palaces. This one is even handsomer and more luxurious than the hunting lodge. It is surrounded by a large park of cypresses in a countryside rich with vineyards and orchards. We are now at high summer. What a fine season to be at war!

Victor reports that he was able to ride up to the walls of Ctesiphon and no one stopped him. The gates were shut. The guards on the walls made no move to fire at his men. According to rumour, the Great King's army is still some miles to the south. We must now be ready to move fast. Once the capital falls, the war is over. Sapor will sue for peace. At the worst, he will risk everything in one set battle, and the Persians are not noted for their ability at conventional warfare. They are by nature marauders, like the Saracens.

I gave dinner to Maximus, Priscus, Anatolius and Ormisda. The dining room is particularly splendid with painted frescoes showing Sapor hunting lions and boars, all very realistic, the sort of painting I like, though I have not much taste for these things. Even so, after two months of staring at the wall of a tent, one enioys beauty.

I was surprised to find that Maximus is rather a connoisseur of art. This morning he made a careful tour of the palace, recommending to Anatolius what should he packed up and sent back to Constantinople. "But have you noticed, Augustus, how the paintings have only one subject? Killing. Animals in the chase. Men at war. Beast against beast." I hadn't noticed this, but it was quite true.