Parthian Vengeance (50 page)

‘Raiders come though the mountain passes and from Gordyene,’ continued my father. ‘These regions are controlled by Armenia.’

‘These are grave charges you levy against me,’ said Tigranes, his eyes flashing menace. ‘A king might take offence at such words.’

I saw Farhad and Aschek shift uneasily in their saddles. I knew that Aschek in particular did not want war with the Armenians, and ever since Media’s defeat at the hands of the Romans and Prince Atrax’s near fatal wounding, Farhad had also been reluctant to embroil his kingdom in further conflict.

‘It is we who are offended,’ I said, causing Tigranes and his son to look at me.

‘And you are?’ queried Tigranes.

‘Pacorus, King of Dura Europos,’ I answered.

Tigranes nodded and smiled ever so slightly. ‘So you are the famed King Pacorus, the slayer of kings and the confidant of witches.’

‘And the friend of slaves,’ added Artavasdes, his voice mocking and slightly high pitched.

‘Better than being the friend of Romans,’ I answered, ‘or their lackeys.’

Artavasdes bared his teeth at me and was about to rise to the bait but was stopped by a hand raised by his father.

‘Tell me, King Pacorus,’ said Tigranes, ‘your domain lies far to the south of here. Why then would you concern yourself with matters in these parts?’

‘Dura is an ally of Hatra,’ I answered. ‘Its problems are my problems and its wars are my wars.’

‘But there is no war,’ said Tigranes.

I fixed him with my eyes. ‘Not yet.’

‘Enough, Pacorus,’ snapped my father. ‘Hatra does not desire war, Tigranes, but conflict will break out if raids against my kingdom continue. This is my warning to you.’

Tigranes appeared unruffled by the threat, looking at Farhad and Aschek in turn. ‘And Media and Atropaiene stand with Hatra in this?’

Farhad nodded and Aschek did likewise, though without conviction. Artavasdes saw their lack of belief and gloated.

‘Dura also stands with Hatra,’ I announced.

‘Oh, I can see that,’ said Tigranes, ‘perhaps you wish for things to be settled here, today, King of Dura Europos?’

‘Why not?’ I replied indifferently.

‘We did not come here to shed blood,’ said my father, ‘Pacorus forgets himself. But you can see with your eyes, Tigranes, that my words can be backed up with force if need be.’

Tigranes peered past us to where our combined forces were drawn up and smiled. ‘You also have eyes, Varaz. Do they not see the multitude that I have brought with me?’

‘They are but a fraction of the host that Armenia can put into the field,’ boasted Artavasdes.

Perhaps Farhad and Aschek were intimidated by such threats but I had learned long ago that it was not numbers that counted in battle but training and discipline. I yawned.

‘You are impertinent,’ Tigranes said to me.

‘And you are an old man, once called great but now a Roman puppet. Let us settle things now, on this ground, for I grow tired of hearing your words and the empty boasts of your preening son.’

Aschek sat on his horse with his mouth open and Farhad was looking in alarm at my father, who now spoke.

‘You will leave us, Pacorus, so that wiser heads can resolve this problem.’

Artavasdes pointed at me. ‘Do not start a war with us.’

‘Or a conversation, it seems,’ I retorted.

‘Pacorus!’ shouted my father, ‘you will retire.’

I grabbed Remus’ reins and turned him. ‘You are wasting your time, father.’ I dug my knees into Remus’ sides and trotted back to where Orodes, Atrax, Aschek’s sons and Vata waited.

‘What is happening?’ asked a concerned Orodes.

‘Nothing,’ I answered. ‘Tigranes mocks us and we do nothing.’

I looked at Vata. ‘You were right about his son. When he gains the throne things will get a lot worse for you.’

The rain got heavier as I pulled my cloak about me and waited for my father and the other two kings to return. When they did my father had a face like thunder.

‘Well?’ I asked.

‘You made things worse, Pacorus,’ he said wearily.

‘Tigranes refuses to even acknowledge that his men are raiding our kingdoms,’ added Farhad.

‘We will just have to increase our security,’ said Aschek, ‘there is nothing else we can do.’

Cold, wet and drained, the three of them suddenly resembled old men. I thought of the smug expression on Artavasdes’ face and the sardonic words of his father.

‘There is something we can do,’ I said, ‘we can destroy Tigranes and his army.’

I pointed to where my legions faced the swordsmen and huge block of levy spearmen behind them.

‘You see where their foot stands. If my legions attack they will shatter that screen of heavy swordsmen in front of the spearmen easily enough. Those spearmen behind may look impressive but they are just farmers and the like armed with sticks. My men can slaughter them without breaking sweat. With their centre shattered the Armenians will crumble.’

‘He is right, father,’ said Atrax to Farhad, his eyes alight at the prospect of glory.

I stoked his enthusiasm. ‘We greatly outnumber them in cataphracts. One battle, that will settle it, and then there will be no more Armenian problem.’

‘It would be good to lop that arrogant head off Artavasdes’ shoulders,’ remarked Vata.

Aschek peered at the Armenian host, now partly shrouded by the rain that was pouring from low-hanging black clouds.

‘They outnumber us greatly, Pacorus.’

‘Numbers are irrelevant,’ I said. ‘Farmers with sticks cannot withstand my legions, and my horsemen are well schooled in war, they live for battle.’

‘And therein lies the problem, Pacorus,’ said my father calmly. ‘War is your constant companion. You have built your kingdom to nourish your army.’

I grinned at Atrax. ‘What is wrong with that?’

‘Wars are easy to start, Pacorus,’ my father replied, ‘but less easy to finish. You are currently at war with Mithridates and Narses, to say nothing of the armed peace you have with the Romans, and yet you seek another war here.’

‘Better to die on your feet than live on your knees, father.’

Atrax whooped and Vata laughed but my father was not amused.

‘If the Armenians attack we will defend ourselves. But I will not instigate hostilities.’

And so, as the rain coursed off my helmet, ran down my face and soaked my arms and legs, we watched as the Armenians, their banners now hanging soaked and limp from their flag staffs, began to slowly retreat from the field. The foot withdrew first, the damp and shivering hordes of spearmen, archers and slingers trudging back to the tree line to retrace their route back to Armenia. Then the heavy swordsmen followed them protected by the mounted spearmen. The royal party must have been the first to depart for I saw no sign of the Armenian cataphracts. Last to leave were the horse archers who formed a rear guard as the soldiers of four Parthian kingdoms stood immobile and watched them go.

It took two hours of standing before a burning brazier before the feeling returned to my soaking, cold feet and hands. As well as feeling like a drowned rat I also felt cheated. Cheated of the chance to do my father a great service.

‘He doesn’t see it like that,’ said Domitus, holding his hands out to the red coals.

We were standing in front of my tent holding cups of warm wine that had been brought from the field kitchens. The dark and dank night was illuminated by the red glow from dozens of braziers, around which were clustered groups of men trying to warm themselves and dry their sodden clothing. There would be much rust to be removed from mail shirts in the morning.

‘You start a war and he has to deal with it.’

I wasn’t listening to him. ‘We could have broken them easily. Did you see their foot? Most of them would have turned tail and run at the first opportunity.’

He rubbed his hands together. ‘No point in agonising over what might have been. What will you do now?’

‘Go back to Dura. What a complete waste of time this has been.’

‘Pity we can’t go via Gordyene,’ said Domitus. ‘At least we could try to destroy some of the bases the Armenians are using to launch raids from.’

‘The one born in the land of water must be given his own army,’ I found myself saying.

‘What did you say?’

I smiled at him and slapped him on the arm. ‘Of course, it makes perfect sense.’

He looked at me as though I was mad. ‘It does?’

‘My friend, you would not believe me if I told you.’

He eyed me warily. ‘You sure you haven’t caught some sort of fever?’

I went to bed happier than I believed I would and woke to discover that the rain had stopped and the sun was shining down from a sky largely devoid of clouds. It was a beautiful spring day laced with the scent of cyclamen, hyacinth, lavender and narcissus. As the men hung clothing and saddlecloths out to dry and the ground slowly warmed under the sun’s rays, I sent a rider to Nisibus to invite Vata and Atrax to attend me, ostensibly to inspect the camp.

Atrax appeared at midday escorted by a hundred Median horse archers. Vata rode into camp an hour later accompanying a hundred wagons piled high with wine, fresh meat, bread and fodder for the horses.

‘I thought it was the least I could do after your wasted trip, Pacorus.’

I embraced him. ‘Not wasted, my friend. Come inside and take refreshment.’

After we had shared a jug of wine between us I escorted Atrax and Vata round the camp. It was the first time either of them had seen Dura’s legionaries at close quarters.

‘You have made good use of all those men from Pontus I sent south to you,’ remarked Vata as a column of Exiles marched past to undertake two hours’ drill outside the camp.

‘They have made good soldiers,’ I agreed.

‘And the rest are all slaves?’ asked Atrax.

‘Some are former slaves,’ I replied, ‘some are free men who left their homelands because they were occupied or there was no work for them. In Dura’s army they have good food and are paid regularly.’

‘What will you do with them when there is no one left to fight?’ asked Vata mischievously.

‘There is always someone to fight, Vata, which brings me to the reason I invited you both here. I am considering a campaign in Gordyene.’

They both halted and looked at me.

‘Gordyene is occupied by the Armenians,’ said Vata dejectedly.

‘But its people are Parthian,’ I said. ‘Do they not deserve to be liberated from their oppressors?’

Atrax let his head drop. ‘My father would never agree to support such a campaign.’

‘Neither would your father, Pacorus,’ added Vata.

‘I do not need their support,’ I said, ‘merely yours.’

They both looked at me in confusion as I led them back towards my tent. I explained to them both about the eight thousand men from Elymais who had sought refuge at Dura and who had marched north with the army.

‘Gordyene lies on Hatra’s eastern border and to the north of Media,’ I said. ‘You two could easily supply friendly forces from your respective territories. In this way the Armenians in Gordyene would be preoccupied with fighting Parthian troops instead of raiding Hatra and Media, and Atropaiene for that matter.’

Atrax was warming to the idea. ‘In theory it is a good plan, Pacorus, but you know what happened the last time Parthians rode into Gordyene, they were defeated and nearly destroyed. I know, I was one of them, as were you.’

‘I know that,’ I agreed, ‘but then we numbered but a thousand men. Eight thousand is a different matter, especially if they are regularly supplied with provisions and weapons.’ I smiled at him. ‘And reinforcements.’

‘Waging war in enemy territory requires sound leadership,’ said Vata, still far from convinced. ‘Whoever commands your men must know what he is doing.’

We had returned to my tent and I gestured for them both to go into its interior.

‘Fortunately I have just the man.’

I had commanded that Surena and Silaces attend us in my tent and now they both stood as we entered. After an orderly had served us wine I told everyone to sit at the table, after which I revealed my plan to Surena and Silaces.

‘I would like you to be the commander of the expedition,’ I told Surena, ‘and you to be his second-in-command, Silaces.’

Surena clenched his fist in triumph. ‘It would be an honour, lord.’

‘This man was your squire, was he not?’ asked Atrax, which earned him a sneer from Surena.

I laid my hand on Surena’s shoulder. ‘Squire, cataphract, company commander and now the man who leads my horse archers.’

I looked at Silaces. ‘Before I authorise this expedition, I ask for your opinion on this matter for there is no guarantee that it will succeed or that you and your men will live to see its conclusion.’

‘But lord,’ interrupted Surena. I held up a hand to still him.

Silaces looked at me and then the other faces that were staring at him.

‘We are the last remnants of King Gotarzes’ army, majesty, and were it not for you we would no longer be a body of soldiers and he would not be remembered. You have given us back our pride and belief and kept the memory of our king alive. We are honoured to serve you in whatever capacity we can.’

Two days later Surena led eight thousand horsemen towards Gordyene, the whole army drawn up on parade to watch them depart. I sat on Remus with Orodes beside me as the men from Elymais carried the banner of the four-pointed star into Gordyene. Byrd and Malik had left the day before with their scouts to ensure they did not run straight into any large Armenian forces that had remained this side of the Taurus Mountains following our unsuccessful meeting with Tigranes. I told them they were to report back to me immediately after Surena had established a base in Gordyene.

He rode up to us as his new army trotted east, each man carrying three full quivers of arrows and leading a mule loaded with food and fodder for the horses. After they had exhausted their supplies they would receive fresh provisions from Atrax and Vata.

‘Remember, Surena, resist the temptation to take anything from the local population. You have to win them over, not alienate them.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, lord.’

He bit his lip, the first time that I had seen any nervousness in him. But then, this was a great leap he was taking. The responsibility for the lives of eight thousand men must be weighing heavily upon him.