Authors: Peter Darman
‘You think it wise to insult the son of the King of Kings?’
I was rapidly losing patience. ‘I would not have to if he had learnt some manners. But if it makes you feel better, I will apologise to him now. Where is he? Oh, I forgot, he’s fighting with the rebels.’
Gotarzes clapped his hands, guffawed and sat back down.
The queen turned to her husband. ‘Are you going to let such insolence in your court go unpunished?’
My father stood up to defend me. But before he or Phraates could say anything I walked over the top table and bowed my head to the queen.
‘I apologise unreservedly for any offence I may have given. Too much wine, I fear.’
Phraates looked mightily relieved and the queen scowled at me.
‘Well, too much wine can certainly provoke a rash tongue,’ said Phraates. ‘We accept your apology.’
My father looked most displeased as I retook my seat, while Gotarzes gave me a heavy slap on the back.
‘I wouldn’t have apologised to the bitch.’
‘I know, that’s what I was worried about.’
The evening deteriorated further when a message was brought to Phraates by one of his stewards, prompting him to shake his head, stand and walk briskly from the banqueting hall, his viper of a wife scurrying after him. We all stood as they did so, and afterwards the kings gathered round my father.
‘I wonder what that was about?’ said Vardan.
‘No doubt we will know soon enough,’ replied my father.
‘No doubt. Well, Varaz,’ Gotarzes was now very drunk, ‘the error of our ways in not making you chief over us all is now plain to see. Perhaps we should march out and join Narses. I’m sure his feasts are not such dire occasions, at least.’
My father acknowledged his words with a faint nod, then he turned to me.
‘You did not help, Pacorus. You really do need to learn the art of diplomacy.’
‘Diplomacy? Perhaps, but being treated like a slave has no appeal, father. I tried it once in Italy and found it most disagreeable.’
Gotarzes laughed and Vardan smiled. A sheepish Orodes joined us.
‘I apologise for my step-mother, Pacorus, she can be a little hot-headed.’
Gotarzes put an arm round his shoulder. ‘Not your fault, young prince, your father should have taken his belt to that bitch years ago.’
Orodes looked even more awkward, and several of the courtiers who were still standing at their tables looked at the drunken king with contempt on their faces.
‘I think,’ said my father, ‘that it would be sensible to retire to our quarters and put this evening behind us.’
‘Better lock your door, Pacorus,’ slurred Gotarzes, ‘else the queen might creep into your room and stick a knife between your ribs.’
The queen did not try to kill me that evening, I am pleased to say, and the next morning we were all summoned to Phraates’ throne room once more. The king looked even paler and more haunted than ever, while the queen, dressed in a stunning close-fitting pure white gown accentuating her voluptuous figure, her arms adorned with gold bracelets, armlets and a necklace of gold at her throat, eyed us warily. I noticed that Phraates held a letter in his right hand. We stood in a line before him — my father, myself, Vardan, Gotarzes, now sober thankfully, and Chosroes — and bowed our heads.
‘As if I don’t have enough troubles.’ Phraates was staring at the floor in front of us as he spoke. ‘The Romans have sent this letter demanding a meeting with me to clarify the borders between our two empires. To add insult to injury, they want the meeting to take place in Gordyene.’
‘An outrage,’ said my father.
‘Indeed it is,’ replied Phraates, ‘but a calculated one. They have obviously heard of our recent troubles and hope to take advantage of them.’
‘You should refuse to meet them until they withdraw from Gordyene, highness,’ said Chosroes.
‘A show of strength is what’s needed,’ added Vardan.
‘That would be my first thought, but unfortunately,’ said my father, ‘the whole of Hatra’s army cannot be sent to face them in Gordyene, not while half of it is sitting here in Ctesiphon.’
I noticed that while this interchange was going on Phraates and Aruna were looking at me, which made me feel uncomfortable. Eventually, the king spoke to me.
‘Pacorus, you among us have had close dealings with these Romans. What is your opinion on this matter?’
‘They will not respond to threats, not unless they can be backed up with overpowering force. And if they cannot then they will regard you as weak. The Romans only respect strength. They are testing you, highness.’ I cleared my throat, aware that my father and the other kings were also listening closely to my words. ‘They undoubtedly know about the civil war in Parthia, perhaps they fomented it.’
Aruna was going to object but Phraates raised his hand to still her. He was clearly interested in what I had to say.
‘And what would you suggest that I do?’
‘Meet them, highness,’ I said. ‘At the very least it will buy time for Farhad of Media to muster his army and add it to your own forces should it come to war.’
‘We need Farhad here,’ growled my father.
‘Believe me, father, his men are needed where the Romans are. We can beat Narses easily enough, if the efforts of Porus are anything to go by. The Romans are a different prospect.’
‘The Romans are barbarians,’ sneered the queen.
‘Barbarians?’ I looked her directly in the eye. ‘That may be, but Narses’ army contains numerous contingents, not used to working together. The Romans are better equipped and more organised, and Parthia does not want a Roman army rampaging on its western frontier.’
‘While Narses rampages in the east,’ said Gotarzes.
‘Believe me, lord,’ I continued, ‘the Romans are the bigger threat. I know how they fight. They pose the greatest immediate danger.’
Phraates held up his hand again and sighed. He leaned forward and looked at me.
‘I will meet these Romans, and you, Pacorus, will come with me. The rest of you will stay here and prepare to face Narses, should it come to that. Though for now I have sent couriers to him requesting a halt to hostilities and a meeting to discuss how we might resolve our differences peacefully. I will leave for Gordyene tomorrow.’
He waved us away and we departed. I decided to leave the palace and return to my command tent, finding the company there far more agreeable. The camp had been established immediately south of the palace, the neat rows of the tents and the palisade on the earth rampart reassuring me of the strength of Dura’s army. Legionaries practised their drills outside the large, rectangular camp and Nergal put my cataphracts, attired in full war gear, through their paces. In the afternoon I called him, Domitus and the lords to my tent and told them of my impending journey to Gordyene. They all wanted to accompany me, but I informed them that I would take only my cataphracts. We would ride directly north to Irbil and then on to Gordyene. It would take about six days. I dismissed the lords and told Nergal and Domitus to remain. I informed them of what had happened in the palace.
‘Phraates has no stomach for a fight,’ I said. ‘He seeks peace when he should be striking at the heart of Narses.’
‘The Romans will smell his fear when they meet him,’ said Domitus.
‘That is what I am worried about.’
‘Then you have to convince them that there is steel in Parthia.’
‘We should march with you, Pacorus,’ said Nergal.
I shook my head. ‘No, Nergal, your cavalry and the legion are needed here. If Narses attacks my father will need all the men he can get hold of to beat him.
‘There is another thing. I do not trust the mother of Mithridates. She may be in communications with him for all I know. Take orders only from my father, no one else, and certainly not from any commanders in the pay of Phraates.’
I told this to my father that evening in the company of Vardan, Chosroes, Gotarzes and Vistaspa, all of whom I had invited to dine with me.
‘We are supposed to be loyal subjects of Phraates,’ said my father.
‘And so I am, father, but I owe no loyalty to his wife.’
‘Agreed,’ said Gotarzes, who tonight was drinking water, not wine. ‘We should strike at Narses and kill him and Mithridates, for there will be no peace until both of them are food for vultures.’
‘I have to concur with your son, Varaz,’ added Vardan. ‘Phraates wastes his time sending envoys of peace to Narses. The only reason Narses retreated is because we arrived. He may attack when he learns that Phraates has been called away from his palace.’
‘How will he learn that?’ asked my father.
‘Queen bitch will tell him,’ spat Gotarzes.
My father held up his hands. ‘Friends, idle speculation will get us nowhere. We should concentrate on the here and now.’
Gotarzes looked at my father. ‘Have you forgotten, Varaz, that Narses sacked my kingdom and reduced me to the status of a beggar at the court of Phraates?’
My father looked serious. ‘Of course not, my old friend.’
‘We will restore you to your kingdom, lord,’ I said, ‘after we have dealt with the Romans.’
‘And how will you deal with them?’ asked Chosroes, staring at Domitus sitting beside me.
‘By trying to convince them that any further incursions into Parthian territory will cost them a high price in blood.’
‘And if you don’t convince them?’ asked Vardan.
‘Then we shall have to fight them, lord,’ I replied.
The evening thus ended on a sombre note, though I was confident that we could at least buy some time with regard to the Romans. I rose before dawn and assembled my cataphracts, both men and horses wearing full armour. I wore my black cuirass and Roman helmet with a white goose feather crest, my
spatha
at my hip and my bow in its case secured to my saddle. As the morning sun began its ascent in the eastern sky my father appeared at the entrance to the camp, Vistaspa beside him. An easterly breeze had picked up, which caused my griffin banner to flutter as Vagharsh held it in front of the two hundred horsemen that stood to attention, the steel masks covering their faces presenting a fearsome appearance. Behind them the mounted squires held the reins of camels loaded with spare armour, clothing, horseshoes, lances, bows, arrows, and food for both horses and men. Each squire led two camels — such was the amount of equipment needed to maintain a formation of cataphracts.
Nergal held the reins of Remus as my father dismounted and we embraced.
‘Take care, Pacorus.’
‘You too, father.’
He placed an arm around my shoulder and led me away from my men. ‘You must be careful, Pacorus.’
‘Of Phraates?’
‘No, of getting the empire involved in a war with the Romans. Phraates, unfortunately, is letting events dictate his actions instead of the other way round. He needs to be firm with the Romans, but not provoke them into launching a war. It will require great diplomatic skill, which I am not sure that he has. In his enthusiasm for preventing conflict he may give the impression that he is weak.’
‘The Romans will be looking for signs of weakness,’ I agreed.
‘Exactly, so you must convey strength without issuing threats, to sow the seeds of doubt in their minds.’
‘It will not be easy, father.’
He smiled at me. ‘I have every faith in you.’
‘Just don’t give battle to Narses before I get back.’
‘Who said anything about fighting Narses?’
‘You think he is going to quietly disband his army and retire to Persis?’
My father said nothing, but the expression on his face told me that he did not think so. We embraced once more and then I rode out of camp at the head of my column of riders, six hundred camels in tow. We rode to the palace gates and waited for the king, who appeared at the head of five hundred cataphracts commanded by Lord Enius, the man who had escorted Gallia and me to the court of Sinatruces over two years before. A thickset man in his forties, his men wore open-faced helmets with blue plumes. Their scale armour covered their torsos, arms and thighs and they each wore yellow cloaks that billowed in the breeze. Their mounts were also covered in scale armour, though some of the scales were made of silver, off which the sun glinted. Together with the blue pennants fluttering beneath the points of their
kontus
, they presented a magnificent sight. Behind Phraates, who wore a gold crown around the top of his helmet, flew the banner of the King of Susiana — an eagle clutching a snake in its talons. It was an apt standard for Mithridates was indeed a snake, though I wondered if his father would ever have him in his talons?
‘A fine morning, Pacorus,’ said Phraates, who appeared refreshed and in good spirits.
‘Indeed, highness,’ I replied.
‘Well, then, let us begin our adventure.’
It took us six days of hard riding to reach Irbil, Farhad’s capital. As soon as we had left the vicinity of Ctesiphon we took off our armour and stowed it on the camels to speed our journey. We stayed for one day only in the city, enough time to see my sister and her new husband. They both seemed happy enough and I found Aliyeh in a carefree mood, the first time in my life that I had seen my serious sister thus.
‘Marriage suits you,’ I told her.
‘I am happy here, Pacorus. And you look ever the warrior.’
I shrugged. ‘I do not look for war, but it always seems to find me.’
‘And are you here to fight a war?’ My serious sister suddenly returned.
‘Hopefully not, at least I will try to avoid it if I can.’
‘I don’t want to be a widow before I have yet to get used to being a bride.’
I laid my hand on her arm. ‘I won’t let anything happen to Atrax, fear not.’
‘Good, because he wants to be just like you.’
I burst out laughing. ‘To be like me?’
She raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Of course, for do you not know that you are famous? You return from the dead with a foreign princess, you are made a king with the help of a sorceress, you make an alliance with the heathen Agraci and become rich by creating a trade route with Egypt, and you win a great victory against impossible odds in a matter of minutes.’
I have to confess that I was pleased with such acclaim, though I pretended otherwise. ‘Surely people have better things to gossip about?’