Parthian Vengeance (74 page)

As Domitus sent parties ahead to reconnoitre the city we halted on the main road that bisected the city and ran east across the Tigris. North of this thoroughfare stood the palace, temples and official buildings, south of it the area where the citizens’ tiny homes were crammed.

‘Most of the garrison will be lining the walls watching Marcus’ engines knocking holes in the gatehouse,’ I said to Domitus. ‘The rest are now cooped up in the palace. But we must assault the men lining the walls so our men outside the city can get in without loss.’

‘Best thing, then, is to split the boys into their centuries and allocate archers to each one. We don’t have enough men to clear all the walls.

I shook my head. ‘There is no need. We just need to clear the walls either side of the main gates.’

It took a matter of minutes to organise the twelve centuries and assign each one forty archers for the assault on the walls. The scouting parties returned to inform us that there were no signs of any enemy soldiers between our position and the gatehouse and so we began to move forward once more, three centuries abreast. There were no whistles or commands just the dull crump of hobnailed sandals on the stone-paved street. I could see the main gatehouse now, which was wreathed in flames, both the gates and the large square towers either side of them alight. The flames were illuminating the surrounding area and I could see that the walls either side of the gatehouse were lined with archers, who were standing well away from the heat and flames. There was also a large body of spearmen formed up in a phalanx around a hundred paces back from the burning gatehouse, ready to repel any assault once the flames had died down.

Domitus beside me cursed. ‘That’s the plan wrecked. We will have to deal with those spearmen first.’

I nodded. ‘Hit them hard. The archers will still try to clear the walls. Good luck.’

I held my bow aloft and then ran to the right as enemy horn blasts signalled that we had been spotted. On our left flank the homes of the city’s citizens went right up to the walls, but on our right flank the ground behind the walls was more open as this was the temple district. I squatted with the officers of the archers around me as ahead the commanders of the spearmen were frantically reorganising their men to assault the legionaries that had suddenly appeared behind them.

‘Two companies will clear the walls south of the gatehouse,’ I ordered. ‘The rest will sweep the walls to the north.’

They nodded and stood up just as Domitus’ men hit the spearmen. They did not have their javelins and a few were felled by the archers on the walls as they charged to reached the spearmen, but their initial impact was still devastating and buckled the enemy’s formation. There was no space to manoeuvre on the left flank that was crowded with houses, but the open space to the north allowed the rear centuries to sweep around the right flank of those in front and then wheel left to hit the spearmen’s right flank. Within minutes high-pitched screams were drowning out the roaring of the flames as the legionaries scythed into the enemy.

The archers on the walls tried to shoot legionaries in the rear of their centuries as those in the front ranks were too close to their own spearmen in the mêlée. They stood on the walkway on top of the walls with the battlements behind them. But from the city side they were totally exposed as they stood shooting their bows. There must have been at least a hundred archers either side of the gatehouse loosing arrows.

I released my bowstring and saw the arrow strike my target in his stomach as he went to retrieve an arrow from his quiver. He dropped his bow and then fell from the walkway onto the ground below as my men swept the walls with arrows. It took less than two minutes to clear the walls either side of the gatehouse, most of the enemy being felled by arrows. Just a handful escaped into the two towers that flanked the gatehouse, while below the spearmen’s ranks dissolved.

Assaulted in the front and on the flank and with an inferno behind them, the rear ranks tried to flee as their comrades in front were cut down. Having no helmets or armour they were easy targets for
gladius
points and their thin wicker shields were next to useless in the close-quarters fight. As their ranks disintegrated I walked back to the main street to find Domitus. The flames from the gatehouse were gradually dying down as he left two of his centurions and ambled over to me.

‘That was easy enough,’ he reported with satisfaction.

Suddenly there was loud crash and a large piece of masonry was dislodged from the top of the wall to our right, showering debris over dead archers on the walkway.

‘Looks like Marcus is having fun with his engines,’ remarked Domitus as a missile shattered another chunk of wall.

‘Get the men back before the gatehouse collapses,’ I ordered.

But the gatehouse did not collapse and as dawn approached the fires died down and the walls of the charred gatehouse still stood. Domitus sent out patrols to ensure we were not surprised but they reported no signs of any enemy. And all the while Marcus’ great ballista threw stone and iron at the walls and towers. Legionaries were sent back to Thumelicus at the bridge to keep him abreast of developments as the majority of the men fell back to a safe distance from the walls and sat down by the side of the street to rest. It had been a long night and as muscles began to ease, arms, legs and shoulders started to ache. I received a report from those men guarding the palace that the garrison was hiding behind the shut gates. Those men still manning the walls further along the perimeter would have no idea what was happening at the gatehouse, but it would be only a matter of time before their officers tried to make contact with either them or the garrison commander, so I ordered Domitus to send a party forward to signal to the army that the city was ours, and then after the ballistae had ceased shooting to clear the smouldering debris at the gatehouse to allow our forces to enter.

Another chunk of masonry was splintered from the walls by a ballista missile.

‘At least Marcus is keeping the citizens cowering in their homes,’ remarked Domitus as a hundred of his men trotted forward to clear the city entrance.

‘I had forgotten about them,’ I admitted.

‘Better rouse them to let them know they have a new governor.’

‘Tell your men to keep their swords in their scabbards. Use a minimum of force.’

He smiled grimly. ‘You know my boys; gentle as lambs.’

I decided to leave the priests in their temple compounds alone while Domitus despatched half our number to bang on doors to assemble the citizenry on the great square located just south of the main street. Very soon the early morning was filled with the shrieks and wails of frightened women and children as the inhabitants were herded into the square, and then I heard a more familiar sound – a blast of trumpets. I turned to the gatehouse to see the figure of Kronos marching at the head of the Exiles as they entered the city to the cheers of the Durans who stood up to welcome their comrades. He stopped when he reached where Domitus and I were standing and clasped our forearms, his men continuing their march towards the bridge.

‘Good to see you Kronos,’ I said to him.

‘Best get your boys to the bridge and secure it,’ added Domitus. ‘When the rest of the Durans enter I can use them to secure the city.’

‘Is the garrison destroyed?’ asked Kronos, looking back at the corpses in front of the gatehouse.

‘No,’ I replied. ‘Half of it has shut itself in the palace and the rest is still manning the walls or in the towers. They will surrender once they realise the city has fallen.’

A part of a tower on the wall behind us suddenly collapsed in a great cloud of dust as a result of it being battered by the ballistae.

‘Not anyone in that tower,’ commented Kronos.

The Exiles pushed on to secure the bridge and relieve Thumelicus’ men, who fell back to our location, while the rest of the Durans filed into the city to assist in the roundup of the citizens and reinforce the men guarding the palace. I was sitting on the stone pavement propped up against the wall of a bakery, whose owner had been ‘persuaded’ to make us some fresh bread, when the kings rode into the city. Domitus sat himself down beside me and rested his helmet on the ground. I handed him a chunk of freshly baked bread. The baker, a short fat man with oversized arms and his family, his wife who had scars on her arms from years working near the brick ovens and a teenage girl and younger boy, worked frantically to provide a constant supply of loaves. The father snapped at his wife and children to toil harder, no doubt fearing that he and his family would be killed if they invoked our displeasure.

As we lounged by the entrance to the bakery a company of the Babylonian royal guard trotted past us, their dragon-skin armour glistening in the early morning sunlight. Then came another company and another, and then Orodes appeared on his brown mare in the company of my father, Gafarn, Gallia who had Remus in tow, Atrax, Surena and Viper. Behind them were grouped Vistaspa and my father’s bodyguard, and behind them the purple ranks of Babylon’s spearmen.

I raised my chunk of bread. ‘Greetings ladies, my lords, welcome to Seleucia.’

‘Congratulations on the success of your plan, Pacorus,’ said Orodes.

‘A masterstroke,’ added Surena.

‘You have saved us much time, Pacorus,’ commented Atrax.

‘The first of the enemy’s cities to fall,’ I said.

‘Seleucia will be Babylonian from now on,’ remarked Orodes.

‘Good idea, Orodes,’ I agreed. ‘Won’t you all have some bread, it is most excellent?’

My father shook his head. ‘We have other things to do besides eat, Pacorus. To secure Ctesiphon for one.’

I got to my feet and helped Domitus to his.

‘I would not worry about that, father. I think you will find that Mithridates has fled back to Susa or further east by now.’

I knew that Ctesiphon’s walls were in no state to withstand an assault and that its garrison was small – no more than two thousand men. It would take a man with an iron will and great ability to hold its dilapidated defences and Mithridates possessed neither.

I called into the building. ‘Baker, come here!’

The flustered man appeared by my side rubbing his hands and squinting up as the empire’s finest were arrayed on their horses in front of his premises.

‘What is your name?’ I asked him.

‘Agapios, sir.’

I pointed at Orodes. ‘Well, Agapios, this is King of Kings Orodes.’

Agapios bowed to Orodes and then looked at me in confusion.

‘Is King Mithridates dead, highness?’

I laughed and my father frowned.

‘No, Agapios, he is not dead. Yet.’

‘Come,’ said my father irritably, ‘we have no time for this.’

‘One moment, father,’ I said. ‘Do you have any gold?’

‘Gold?’

‘To pay Agapios for his bread. We are after all soldiers and not looters.’

My father rolled his eyes. ‘I have no gold, you try my patience, Pacorus.’

I looked at the others. ‘Do any of you have gold?’

They did not, which was most upsetting for Orodes who instructed Agapios to present himself at the palace the next day where he would be fully recompensed for his goods. I mounted Remus and then kissed my wife as Agapios stood staring incredulously at the kings as we made our way to the city’s palace to demand its surrender.

Once we had secured the city I ordered Domitus to allow the people assembled in the square – who numbered not even half of eighty thousand – to return to their homes. Furthermore those of the garrison who were still on the walls or had taken refuge within the towers were to be surrounded but not attacked. Once the palace had fallen the governor, if he had not taken his own life, could order them to surrender.

By now the army’s horsemen were moving through the city: rank upon rank of cataphracts, horse archers and squires leading camels. With the Durans having secured the city and the Exiles across the Tigris and investing Ctesiphon I had to admit that I felt immensely smug, the more so when a courier met our royal party with a message that the city governor would meet with me at the palace.

‘Your fame precedes you, lord,’ remarked Surena.

‘Or his infamy,’ remarked my father dryly.

‘Perhaps Mithridates is in the palace,’ said Gafarn, ‘and wishes to give himself up personally to Pacorus.’

‘In that case,’ I replied, ‘you had better find a headsman for an execution that will be taking place this afternoon.’

Sadly it was not Mithridates who awaited me at the palace gates but an individual in an ill-fitting scale armour cuirass and a bronze helmet on his head, his unkempt hair showing underneath it.

‘Udall,’ I uttered in disbelief as I slid off Remus’ back and walked towards the great twin gates that he was standing in front of. I looked up at the walls and at the closed wooden shutters on the gatehouse.

Udall pointed up at the walls. ‘No archers or sentries, majesty, just as I promised.’

I halted a few paces in front of him and he took off his helmet and bowed his head.

‘How is it that you stand before me?’ I asked. ‘Is the governor dead?’

‘I am the governor,’ he announced proudly.

I had to suppress a laugh. This day was getting better and better. The enemy must be scraping the bottom of the barrel if all he could throw at us were men of Udall’s calibre.

‘The last time I saw you was when you were leading what was left of your men into the desert. How is it that in the time in between you were made governor of this fine city?’

A dumb smile crept across his face. ‘Because out of those Narses sent to fight you when he retreated back over the Tigris last year, I was the only one to survive. And bring my men back with me.’

‘Having first surrendered all your weapons to me,’ I reminded him.

‘But it bought him time, you see, majesty. And weapons can be easily replaced.’

‘That hardly qualifies you to be made a governor.’

He shrugged indifferently. ‘It does when I told him that in agreement for my surrendering my weapons you had promised not to cross the Tigris.’

‘I agreed to no such thing.’