Parthian Dawn (43 page)

‘Let’s lop off an ear. He don’t need two, do you your majesty?’

He leered at me, his breath stinking of wine. I stared into his eyes, unblinking. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of begging him not to disfigure me.

‘Now don’t you worry, your majesty, this won’t hurt me a bit.’

He laughed aloud and then suddenly released my hair. He straightened his body, coughed and then crumpled on the ground in a heap, an arrow in his back. Seconds later horsemen thundered into the village. Kaspar and his men staggered to their feet as more and more horsemen appeared around them, all of them horse archers with arrows in their bowstrings. Whoever these soldiers were they were superbly equipped and mounted. The horse archers of Dura wore no armour, but these men were attired in scale armour — short-sleeved leather garments reaching down to the thigh and covered with rectangular metal scales arranged in horizontal rows, with each row partly overlapping the row below. Most scale armour was made with iron segments but these men were wearing bronze scales, and on their heads they all wore steel helmets with leather neck guards and embossed metal decoration.

Kaspar’s men now stood and grouped around their commander, looking in confusion at each other, and at their dead comrade lying at my feet. I coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood at him. Then I heard the shrill sound of a cavalry horn being blown and yet more horsemen rode into the village. These were cataphracts, each one wearing armour of bronze scales like the archers, though unlike the archers their horses wore armoured skirts that covered their shoulders and hindquarters, though not their necks or heads. The cataphracts slowed and then halted, and from among them rode a large man on a beautiful black steed whose head and neck shone in the sunlight. One of cataphracts dismounted and held the reins of the horse as its rider jumped to the ground. He was dressed in a suit of scale armour of alternating bronze and silver scales that glittered in the sunlight. He was a tall man with wide shoulders wearing a long-sleeved red tunic beneath his armour, baggy red trousers and a steel helmet inlaid with gold leaf whose cheek guards were tied together. The man unfastened the thick leather thongs and removed his helmet. My heart sank and I prepared for death, for Narses himself stood before me.

The King of Persis turned his large round face to gaze down at me. Despite him being Parthian I was surprised at how fair his skin was, and his hair appeared golden in the sunlight. He also saw the dead soldier lying nearby. He pointed at it.

‘Remove this piece of carrion.’ Two of his men did so as the King of Persis regarded me, then strode over. Like Kaspar had done he too folded his arms in front of his chest, a look of contempt on his face, a glint of triumph in his brown eyes.

‘King Pacorus. We meet in far different circumstances from the last time we encountered one another.’

I looked at him with my one eye that remained open, as the other had closed due to the swelling around the wound to my eyebrow.

‘I would get up and greet you properly, but as you can see I am tied up and do not have my sword.’

His lip curled into a wicked smile as he unbuckled his sword belt and handed it to a subordinate who stood behind him. He then squatted beside me.

‘You smell disgusting. Still, I’m sure you will be made more presentable for your performance in Uruk.’

‘Uruk?’ Uruk was the capital of Mesene and the residence of King Chosroes.

‘Yes, boy, you are to be executed in the palace square so all may see what happens to those who cross me, even the famed young general from Dura who vanquishes his foes. How great will be the fear that I will create when people see your head on a spike.’

‘You would not dare?’

‘Would I not?’ he sneered. ‘I did tell you when we met last year that affairs between us would be settled, and so it has proved to be. But unlike you, I will not let my chance slip between my fingers.’

‘Kill me now, then, and have done with it.’

He looked genuinely hurt at my suggestion. ‘Kill you here, among a collection of hovels in this piece of wasteland? I think not. The death of a king should be witnessed by a multitude so the tale of it will be spread far and wide. And your death will be slow and painful, to give you time to reflect on your insolence towards myself and King Mithridates.’

I chuckled. ‘So Mithridates is still betraying his father?’

‘He betrays no one,’ he said curtly. ‘Once we have destroyed those kings who had the temerity to stand against us, we will keep Phraates as high king, as a sort of figurehead. But the real power will be in other hands. And I will make Parthia strong and feared.’

‘You will fail.’

Narses stood up, held out his hand and was handed back his sword. He buckled his belt. ‘The things that I dislike the most about you, Pacorus, are your ridiculous sense of loyalty and notion of honour. These things have held you back. You could have been the most powerful man in the empire, perhaps King of Kings yourself in a few years. You have a talent for winning battles, I grant you that, but you are sadly lacking when it comes to statecraft.’

‘You mean treachery?’

He smiled. ‘There you go again, talking nonsense. You seek to make the world a better place, to create heaven on earth. But you live in a fool’s paradise. You are blind to the realities around you. Take Chosroes, for example, a man eaten away by jealously. He rules a dung heap and is a pauper among kings, and so I offered him another kingdom if he would but join me, and such is his lust for riches that he readily agreed. I call individuals like him useful idiots. And to think, your father thinks of him as a friend, which is doubly ironic since the kingdom I promised Chosroes was Hatra.’

‘You will never take Hatra.’

Narses tilted his head to one side. ‘How long can a city hold out against a whole empire? Even now my army is marching with that of Chosroes to lay siege to Babylon. One by one your father’s allies are falling. Balas is dead, Farhad and Aschek are broken. So you see, there are none to stand in my way.’

At that moment two of Narses’ men threw Kaspar at their king’s feet.

‘You are the commander of this rabble?’ asked Narses.

Kaspar rose unsteadily to his feet and bowed his head, clearly still the worse for wear. ‘Yes, highness.’

Narses pointed at me. ‘This prisoner is to be taken to Uruk at once. You will commence your journey immediately, and to ensure that he gets there alive a dozen of my soldiers will accompany you and your men on your journey. Now go. Your appearance offends my eyes.’

Behind him the cataphracts and horse archers of Persis were bellowing and cursing at Kaspar’s men to get their horses saddled. The men of Mesene, feeling the effects of too much drink, were sluggish and resentful, but eventually they managed to saddle their horses and clamber onto the backs of their mounts. Kaspar sat on Remus and pulled his own horse beside him. He had attached a rope around my neck that was secured to his saddle — my saddle. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes, grinned and then yanked the rope, causing me to lose my balance and fall flat on my face. As I still had my hands tied behind my back I got up with difficulty, spitting dirt from my mouth as I did so.

Narses rode up to me as his men cantered from the village.

‘Until we meet again in Uruk, then.’

Then he and his men were gone and I began my journey to Uruk. It was late afternoon now and I comforted myself with the belief that we would probably not be on the road for long, not if Kaspar’s men were anything to go by. I stumbled along in the centre of the column, and could see that several of his men were already dozing in their saddles, their chins resting on their chests and reins wrapped around their arms for support. I also saw others lean over to the side and vomit onto the ground. These men were truly the slops of humanity, and I felt ashamed that I had allowed my men to be slaughtered and myself taken by such poor soldiers.

We had not travelled two miles, hugging the bank of the Tigris with a great marsh lying on the other side of the river and disappearing into the distance, when a great herd of water buffaloes suddenly appeared. The beasts with their grey-black coats, their huge heads sporting great backward-curving, crescent-shaped horns ending in sharp points, were nearly the height of a man. Either side of the lumbering beasts herdsmen whacked the animals with sticks, causing them to bellow and grunt with irritation. Within minutes the water buffaloes had collided with Kaspar’s horsemen and chaos ensued as horses and buffaloes intermingled. The men from Persis were highly indignant and shouted curses and threats at the herdsmen to get their beasts out of the way, to no avail. Each water buffalo must have weighed two thousand pounds, and from what I could see there must have been at least fifty of them. Soon they had ambled over to where I stood behind Remus, and I had great difficulty in keeping my feet as buffaloes walked past and threatened to gash me with the ends of their horns. Kaspar’s men, in stark contrast to the soldiers of Persis, did nothing but shrug, carried on dozing in their saddles or laughed at the vain efforts of Narses’ soldiers. Despite my dire circumstances I too found it amusing, but then my instincts told me that something was wrong and the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up. I looked around and saw the herdsmen gently tapping the beasts, but they were not trying to get them past the horsemen; rather, they were deliberately herding them to get among the column of riders. And then I noticed that there suddenly seemed to be a lot of herdsmen, dozens in fact. Most strange. Then all hell broke loose.

A water buffalo had stopped right in front of me, flicking its tail to swat away the flies that were plaguing it, when suddenly one of the herdsmen raced forward and stabbed Kaspar in the thigh with a knife. The whole column was then assaulted by herdsmen from every direction. The latter, having got close to the horsemen under pretence of controlling their beasts, leapt at Kaspar’s men and slashed and stabbed at them with knives. They vaulted onto the backs of the water buffaloes and then threw themselves at the horsemen, aiming the points of their blades at eyes and throats or plunging their weapons deep into unprotected chests. Soon the air was filled with ear-piercing screams as the assailants went expertly to work. Kaspar’s men were cut down with ease, those who had been dozing or daydreaming being the first to die. A few managed to resist, but the proximity of their attackers meant they could not use their bows and had instead to rely on their swords, and they wore no armour to protect them from the deadly blades of the herdsmen. Neither did the latter, but Kaspar’s men were stationary in their saddles and became literally sitting targets. Most of the Mesenians did not even manage to pull their swords from their scabbards before they were felled. And when they hit the ground their foes were upon them, stabbing in a frenzied bloodlust, turning their victim into dead flesh.

I slapped a huge, stinking beast on its rump, causing it to grunt and amble forward. The wounded Kaspar lay on the ground but I was still tied to Remus’ saddle. I shouted his name and he turned his head; I was desperate for him not to bolt forward and drag me under the hooves of the water buffaloes. I reached him and patted his neck, but his eyes were wild and I could see that the events swirling around us had unsettled him greatly. With my hands tied behind my back I was helpless.

A figure appeared in front of me, a youth no more than eighteen years of age or younger. He was slightly shorter than me but with broader shoulders and thicker arms. He had a square, clean-shaven face with a thin nose. His shoulder-length hair was black and his eyes dark brown, and now they regarded me cautiously. He held a long knife in his right hand that was smeared with blood. He wore a simple light brown shirt and frayed leggings that ended just below his knees. He wore nothing on his weatherworn feet.

The killing had mostly stopped now, judging by the absence of screams and shouting. The boy continued to watch me as several of his companions appeared by his side. They were dressed in similar threadbare clothes and armed with a variety of knives or short swords. Together they looked lean, proficient and pitiless, like a pack of hungry wolves. I had the feeling that my fate was about to be decided. One spoke to the youth whose eyes were still upon me.

‘Surena, a few escaped. They might be back with reinforcements.’ So his name was Surena and I guessed that he was their leader. He turned to the youth who had spoken.

‘Gather up anything of use and get the animals over the river and into the marshes. We leave immediately. Go.’

The youth nodded and disappeared, leaving Surena and four others facing me. Then he spoke to me.

‘What’s your story?’

‘Release me and I will gladly tell it.’

‘Why should I release you?’

‘Because the men you have just killed were also my enemies.’

Kaspar suddenly groaned and Surena looked at him.

I nodded at Kaspar. ‘That man stole my horse, weapons and armour and was taking me to a place of execution. He is my enemy, just as he is yours. Does that not make us allies at least, if not friends?’

Surena looked at Kaspar and then me and then laughed to reveal a mouthful of white teeth.

‘I will give you the benefit of the doubt, stranger.’ He walked over and cut the ropes binding my wrists and neck with his knife.

However old these young men were, they went about the business of stripping the dead and dying of anything that could be of use to them — weapons, food, clothing and horses — with skill and speed. Most of the horses were stripped of their saddles, which were dumped on the ground, and then gathered up into groups. One horse in each group was left saddled and this animal was ridden by one of the herdsmen, who gathered the reins of the others and led them away. By now the water buffaloes were being directed back over the river and into the marshes, the lumbering beasts grunting in disapproval at having to exert yet more energy.

I walked over to the now dead Kaspar and relieved him of my helmet, cuirass, boots, sword and dagger. Surena looked at me in surprise as I put them on.