Authors: Peter Darman
I was standing beside Domitus at the entrance to our camp as the army of Chosroes filed past to set up their tents two miles north of us. I saw the disdain on Domitus’ face.
‘They are our allies, Domitus.’
‘I would rather they were our enemies,’ he sniffed. ‘If we fight a battle in the coming days, try to ensure that they are as far away from my legion as possible.’
‘You think they will run?’
‘I
know
they will run. And when they do the poor bastards standing beside them will discover that they suddenly have no flank protection.’
I knew he was right, but that evening Vardan and my father welcomed Chosroes to the army and toasted his loyalty. Dressed in a red flowing gown adorned with gold strips, his eyes were cold and calculating but he was cordial enough if a little curt. He seemed far from enthusiastic at having to muster his army for this campaign, but he too had voted for Phraates and so had a vested interest in seeing him retain his throne. I also learned that Porus had raided his lands.
‘I heard about your victory over Porus,’ he said, picking at some roasted goat on a silver plate that he held with his long, bony hand. ‘A most welcome development.’
‘Thank you, sire.’ Technically I was his equal, but I was always aware that the rest of the kings were middle-aged men or older and that I was a mere boy compared to their years and experience, so I was more than happy to defer to them, rebels aside.
‘Yes, yes,’ said Chosroes, ‘most welcome.’
Vistaspa, on the next couch to mine, leaned over. ‘What he means is that he is glad he did not have to fight them himself.’
‘You mean he is a coward?’ I was shocked as I watched my father walk over to Chosroes and embrace him, then put an arm round his shoulder in a brotherly fashion and lead him away, the two of them deep in conversation.
‘No, no, nothing like that’ replied Vistaspa, ‘but Mesene is poor. You must have deduced that from the condition of his troops. His kingdom does not benefit from the Silk Road and his people eke out an existence from the land. In the south, where the Euphrates and Tigris flow into the Persian Gulf, there are great marshes populated by a rebellious people, which adds a further drain on his resources.’
‘Domitus has a low opinion of his troops.’
Vistaspa nodded. ‘He’s right in his opinion. But at least Chosroes is here, and for that reason alone we must be grateful.’
‘Domitus also believes that if we have to give battle the soldiers of Chosroes will be the first to run.’
Vistaspa laughed out loud, causing Vardan and my father to look at him quizzically. ‘I like your Roman; he’s a man after my own heart. And he’s right again. Hopefully it will not come to that.’
My father’s words had obviously cheered Chosroes up, for he sat back on his couch and raised his cup to Vistaspa and me, smiling as he did so. We raised ours in return.
‘Perhaps we could convince him to fight for the enemy,’ remarked Vistaspa, smiling at the King of Mesene.
But Chosroes did not desert and so his army formed the rear of a vast column that made its way towards the Tigris and Ctesiphon. Our progress would have been seen miles away, for the thousands of animals and men kicked up a vast cloud of dirt that got in our eyes and covered our clothes, so that after a day we resembled the men of Chosroes’ army. We had scouts riding ahead, including Byrd and Malik, but they reported only an empty land and no sign of the enemy. Indeed, when we finally reached the Tigris at Ctesiphon, the city itself on the western bank of the river, directly opposite the large palace complex on the other side of the river, Byrd reported that Narses and his army had hurriedly departed eastwards, towards Susa. Curiously he had left the bridge across the river intact, and there was little evidence of damage to the city itself or the brick wall of the palace compound.
‘Of course not,’ remarked my father, ‘he hoped to make this his home. Why then would he destroy it?’
And so, without raising a sword against him, we had forced Narses to retreat.
Chapter 10
T
hat afternoon I rode with my father, Vardan and Chosroes to the palace. The heavy wooden gates opened to let us enter as soldiers observed us from the walls. Parthian armies have no knowledge of siege warfare and as far as I knew none of the empire’s kings had engines with which to batter down fortifications, so unless walls are particularly weak or ill-maintained there is little likelihood of a city falling to an assault. Usually starvation forces surrender, and as I rode through the gates at Ctesiphon the latter seemed most likely had we delayed but a few days more. The wide expanse of open ground between the walls and the palace was filled with tents, horses and camels — troops from Susiana who had remained loyal to Phraates together with the shattered remnants of Elymais’ army. Feeding such a multitude would have quickly emptied the palace storerooms. Inside the walled palace complex itself we were greeted by Prince Orodes, who, despite the fact that he had been besieged, still retained his cheerful disposition. He bowed to my father, Vardan and Chosroes and then embraced me.
‘It is good to see you, majesty.’
‘You don’t have to call me that, Orodes. Pacorus will suffice. We are, after all, friends are we not?’
‘My father and I certainly need all the friends we can get. Is Gallia with you?’
‘I sent her back to Dura. She’s pregnant.’
He shook my hand and beamed with delight. ‘This is indeed a happy day, Pacorus. Tonight we will celebrate and toast your wife, but first my father wishes to convey his gratitude.’
Our horses were taken from us and we walked up the palace steps and into the cool interior of Phraates’ palace. The high ceilings, yellow and blue painted walls and marble columns conveyed power and opulence whilst the immaculately dressed guards gave a sense of protocol and discipline. The ensuing ordered calm was in stark contrast to the disorder that currently raged outside the confines of the royal residence. Clerks and eunuchs scuttled around as Orodes escorted us into one of the throne rooms.
The large white doors inlaid with gold opened and we entered the seat of power, the same throne room where Sinatruces had made me King of Dura over two years before. How long ago it seemed now. That was a happy time, but the atmosphere in the room this time was far from joyous as we walked across the marble-tiled floor and bowed in front of the dais where Phraates sat next to his wife, Queen Aruna. I was shocked by how old Phraates looked. He was in his fifties and his hair had always been flecked with grey, but now there were large streaks of it in his mane, but what was more noticeable was how gaunt he looked. Sunken cheeks, bags under his eyes, his hands constantly fidgeting with the arms of his throne were indicative of the toll the rebellion had taken on him; that and the great weight upon his shoulders of being King of Kings. He did at least seem pleased to see us and raised his right hand in recognition.
‘Greetings King Varaz, King Chosroes and King Vardan. You are all most welcome. And greetings to you, King Pacorus, who have added more lustre to your reputation by your recent victory.’
I bowed my head once more. ‘Thank you, highness.’
Standing to the side of the dais, dressed in full war gear, was King Gotarzes of Elymais, whose army Narses had defeated and whose forces now sheltered inside the walls of the palace complex. He winked at me and I smiled back.
‘Do you intend to march after the rebels, highness?’ asked my father.
Phraates shifted uneasily on his throne. ‘Well, I was hoping to reach an accommodation with them. The empire needs peace.’
‘Peace, I absolutely agree,’ added Chosroes.
‘There can be peace after we have defeated Narses and his army,’ I said.
All eyes were upon me and I soon realised that I had made a mistake to speak thus. Phraates frowned and looked at his feet, while the queen fixed me with an icy stare. It was the first time that I had met Queen Aruna. She was younger than Phraates by about five years, I surmised. Some would call her beautiful, with thick black curly hair that flowed down to her shoulders, a square, olive-skinned face with a perfect complexion and big brown eyes. But it was a harsh beauty, for she had a haughty manner and a condescending attitude, born no doubt of her upbringing in the court at Puta, for she was the sister of King Phriapatus of Carmania, an eastern kingdom that had sided with Narses. And from the first day that I met her she was my enemy.
‘I do not wish to see the death of King Mithridates, my son, who currently accompanies King Narses,’ she said. ‘It is unbecoming for kings to kill each other. This is Parthia, not the barbarian wastelands of the steppes.’
So Mithridates was with Narses. It did not surprise me, the treacherous little snake.
‘The current difficult situation will be settled now that you all have arrived,’ said Phraates, ignoring his wife’s utterance. ‘Narses will see sense and return to Persis.’
‘Narses should be ordered here to explain his insolence,’ added Aruna, ‘and for luring away my innocent son from our side. Narses has obviously been bewitched, probably by that vile old hag who corrupted the divine Sinatruces.’
She shot me a hateful look. She was obviously alluding to Dobbai, and must have known that she now resided at Dura.
I caught the look of disbelief on Orodes’ face. I had no doubt that whatever the reason for Mithridates being with Narses, it had nothing to do with him being deceived, more likely naked ambition.
‘You wish to negotiate with your enemies, highness?’ asked my father.
Aruna looked daggers at my father, her eyebrows squeezed together, then at her husband.
Phraates cleared his throat. ‘They are not our enemies. They are our subjects, and as such I do not wish to make war upon them.’
The queen regarded us with a smug expression. I felt like we were small boys being chastised. Phraates rose from his throne and held out his hand to his queen, who took it and also stood up.
‘You must be tired after your journey.’ He gestured to one of his stewards standing by the dais. ‘You will be shown to your rooms. Tonight we will have a feast to celebrate your arrival, and tomorrow we will decide what action is to be taken.’
We bowed our heads as the king and queen left the room, after which Orodes and Gotarzes accompanied us to our quarters in the palace.
‘You arrived just in time, Varaz,’ said Gotarzes, ‘another week and we would have been starved out.’
The so-called ‘feast’ that evening was a dire event, the whole room drenched in an atmosphere of polite iciness. The queen pointedly ignored me, father and Vardan, though she did respond to the obsequiousness of Chosroes, whose mood had brightened markedly now that Phraates had stated his intention to avoid further bloodshed. I spoke to Orodes briefly before he took his place beside his parents at the top table. Then I took my seat on one of the long tables that had been arranged at right angles to the top table and which seated a host of courtiers dressed in bright yellows, greens, blues and reds. I sat next to Gotarzes, who I think was glad of my company.
‘Are your family safe, lord?’ I asked him.
He was taking large gulps from his silver cup. ‘Yes, thank you. I sent them north to Khosrou, they’ll be safe at Merv. So what do you think of our queen of queens.’
‘You mean Queen Aruna?’
He drained his cup and held it out to a servant for it to be refilled. ‘Yes, that’s the bitch.’
‘You dislike her?’
‘Intensely. I did not realise that when we made Phraates King of Kings, we were in fact making her the ruler of the Parthian Empire.’
‘Really?’ I was unsure whether it was the drink talking.
He looked at me wryly. ‘I’ve been cooped up here in this zoo long enough to know where the real power lies. She’s like a hawk and makes sure that she has a say in everything Phraates decides. Bitch!’
He said the last word loudly enough to turn the heads of the high king and his queen, the latter looking hatefully at Gotarzes.
He took another gulp of wine and continued. ‘It’s easy to see how she could spawn such an evil little bastard like Mithridates.’
‘But Orodes is also her son,’ I said.
‘Her
adopted
son. Orodes’ mother was a concubine of Sinatruces whom Phraates fell in love with. Sinatruces forgave her infidelity, for a son born to a king, even a bastard one, is worth having. The result of his passion sits at the top table, and a fine young man he is, but Aruna’s poisonous blood does not flow in his veins, thank God. Aruna never forgave her husband’s infidelity, rumour has it, and he’s full of remorse, the stupid idiot.’
‘What happened to the concubine?’
A wicked smile crept over Gotarzes’ face. ‘Died of a fever, some say, though others maintain that she was poisoned by queen bitch over there. I am inclined to believe the latter. Bitch!’
He was now quite drunk and full of resentment. Queen Aruna had heard his last word.
‘You have something to say, King Gotarzes?’
Gotarzes rose to his feet unsteadily and what little chatter there was died instantly. ‘I do.’
The disdainful look on the face of Gotarzes made me realise that he was about to tell the queen exactly what he thought of her. The look of alarm on Orodes’ face confirmed this. I therefore stood up and spoke first.
‘King Gotarzes and I would like to thank your majesties for a most magnificent feast.’
My father lent back in his chair and regarded me with curiosity, while Vardan looked confused, for even an imbecile would know that this evening was an excruciating affair.
The queen frowned. ‘I see. And are those his words or yours?’
‘I do not need you to speak for me, Pacorus.’
‘Indeed not,’ snapped the queen. Her attention now turned to me.
‘I have heard, King Pacorus, that you insulted my son at Esfahan.’
I could see where Mithridates got his talent for bearing grudges from. Phraates still said nothing but merely watched with a worried look.
I saw no reason to lie. ‘You heard correctly, majesty.’
For a brief moment she was lost for words, but then her disdainful look retuned, her jaw jutting forward.