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Authors: Peter Darman

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

Parthian Vengeance (61 page)

BOOK: Parthian Vengeance
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‘They would not make much of a meal.’

‘Do you want an escort to the palace, majesty?’

‘No, we will make our own way there.’

I left him to his command of the gate and its garrison, whose drawn, sunken faces looked similar to those of the refugees. As I led Remus by his reins further into the city the legionaries closed around me, shoving aside individuals with their shields. As we walked from the gate the stench of a long siege: the smell of human and animal dung, rotting refuse and death entered our nostrils. The road was literally carpeted with people, both men and women, young and old, many too malnourished and weak to stand and move aside. The crowd who had gathered round Thumelicus and his men had followed us, probably in the hope that the big, well-fed soldiers in their shiny helmets and mail shirts might toss them a few morsels to eat. My German centurion soon grew tired of their imploring and clawing and hit one of them on the arm with his club, sending the wretch sprawling. This sparked angry shouting and some waved their fists at him, which on reflection was the worst thing they could have done.

‘Ready,’ he shouted and his men raised their clubs in preparation to attack the crowd.

A gaunt man was jabbing his finger angrily at Thumelicus, a stream of abuse coming from his twisted mouth, who then fell silent as a great German hand deftly flicked the club it was holding into the side of his face, splitting his nose and also sending him tumbling. The crowd were outraged at this and began shouting and threatening the legionaries, who faced the crowd with their clubs at the ready.

‘No violence,’ I ordered as a stone hit Remus’ rump. ‘Let us get to the palace as quickly as possible.’

‘Raise shields,’ shouted Thumelicus.

The legionaries in the front rank closed up and locked their shields together on all four sides of our formation, those behind raising theirs above their heads to form a roof as we were pelted with stones, dung, rotting vegetables and sticks. The smell was disgusting.

As we inched our way towards the palace Thumelicus and those beside him in the front rank clubbed some more civilians who got too close, splitting heads and cracking ribs. More and more people gathered round us as the tumult alerted others to what was going on and the pack instincts of a hungry and desperate crowd took hold. I was unconcerned about my men, who were more inconvenienced than threatened, but I did worry about the crowd’s safety. My fears were confirmed when I heard Thumelicus curse and saw that he had been struck in the face by a great clump of animal dung. The crowd thought this hilarious and began pointing and laughing at him.

He threw down his club. ‘Swords!’ he bellowed and I heard the scraping sound of eighty blades being pulled from their scabbards.

The crowd must have numbered between three and four hundred people by now and I had visions of the same number lying dead in front of Axsen’s palace.

‘No violence,’ I ordered again as the gates of the palace suddenly opened and horsemen rode from the royal compound, at least three score carrying shields and spears and attired in purple. They charged at the crowd, which rapidly dispersed from in front of the gates.

‘Stand down,’ said Thumelicus as he and the others returned their swords to their scabbards.

‘It was a good job those horsemen appeared when they did, otherwise we would have sliced open a few bellies.’

‘You really must try to keep your temper in check,’ I told him.

He wiped his face and then smelt his fingers and screwed up his face.

‘I don’t take kindly to being pelted with shit. They should turf all those people out of the city. They stink and it stinks.’

I slapped him on the shoulder. ‘And so do you! Get your men inside and then they and you can get cleaned up.’

The horsemen kept the crowd at bay as we entered the palace compound where Mardonius was waiting to greet me. He looked immaculate as usual, though his face wore a deep frown when he saw we had been the brunt of a hostile crowd.

‘My apologies, majesty.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ I said as a stable hand took Remus from me. ‘People do desperate things in desperate times.’

‘And these are desperate times,’ he agreed. ‘I fear that the kingdom is ruined.’

So did I but said nothing.

‘The queen is well?’ I asked.

He smiled. ‘Indeed, the more so since the arrival of Prince Orodes. He is a great friend of Babylon. As is King Nergal. I did not think I would live to see the day when Mesene and its Agraci allies would prove to be Babylon’s allies against the empire’s king of kings.’

‘We live in strange times,’ I agreed.

We walked towards the palace as Thumelicus and his men were shown to a barracks block to wash the filth from their clothing. Thumelicus barked orders at his men, still fuming at his treatment in the street and his frustration at not being allowed to kill a few civilians in reprisal.

‘You travelled through the eastern part of the kingdom, majesty?’ asked Mardonius.

I thought of the despoiled villages and the empty Jem det Nasr. ‘Yes, it has suffered greatly during the recent strife.’

His head dropped. ‘Mithridates has impoverished the kingdom.’

‘There is gold enough at Ctesiphon to rebuild this kingdom,’ I replied.

He looked shocked. ‘You will march against the capital of the empire?’

‘Next year, yes, and I will not be marching alone.’

We walked on in silence. Despite the kingdom of his queen having been ravaged by Mithridates I could sense that Mardonius was ill at ease with the notion of making war against the office of king of kings. Fortunately I did not share his reticence.

The palace itself was a place of calm and order and contrasted sharply to the scenes immediately beyond its walls. Well-dressed officials walked along its long corridors and among its pillars, white-robed priests talked with other in hushed tones and courtiers with neatly trimmed beards and wearing brightly coloured robes bowed their heads to us as we entered the throne room where Axsen awaited us.

She had inherited her father’s full frame and in her teenage years her figure had earned her the cruel nickname ‘Princes Water Buffalo’. With the passing of time, though, she had lost much of the baby fat of her younger years. And now the responsibility of ruling a kingdom alone and the recent siege had resulted in her losing more weight, and I have to say that the slimmer Axsen appeared more regal and attractive. Adversity suited her.

I took off my helmet and went down on one knee before the dais upon which her throne stood. Beside her Orodes occupied the other throne. Mardonius struggled to get down on his aged knee.

Axsen smiled, rose from her throne and placed her hands on my shoulders.

‘Hail, great queen,’ I said. ‘Dura salutes you.’

She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Oh, Pacorus, you are so formal. Please get up. And arise, Lord Mardonius, before you do yourself a mischief.’

I assisted him back onto his feet as he winced from the pain in his joints. Axsen retook her throne and smiled girlishly at Orodes. So, he must have proposed and she must have accepted his offer. I was pleased.

‘We have news for you, King Pacorus, the liberator of Babylon,’ said Axsen, to polite applause from the officers, priests and courtiers present. ‘I am to be married to Prince Orodes of Susiana.’

Louder applause greeted this announcement and I nodded and smiled at Orodes. I went down on one knee again.

‘This is truly great news, majesty, and heralds a new age for the Kingdom of Babylon.’

‘Rise, Pacorus, my dear friend,’ commanded Axsen as Orodes stepped forward and we clasped arms.

‘Well done, my friend,’ I whispered.

I stepped onto the dais and kissed Axsen on the cheek.

‘May Shamash bless your union,’ I said, earning me a glower from Nabu who stood by the side of the dais and looked as though he had just had a tooth pulled.

Later, when we relaxed in Axsen’s private wing in the palace, sitting in a small courtyard with fountains and an ornamental pond in which swam large golden fish, I asked Axsen the reason for Nabu’s miserable face.

‘When the city filled with refugees I knew Babylon would not have enough food to feed all the people, but I also knew that the temples would be able to ease our burden and so ordered them to distribute their offerings to the people.’

‘The daily tribute,’ added Orodes.

Every major city had its great temples whose gods demanded daily tribute from the people. It was customary for granaries to be built near those temples to produce bread that was then sold to worshippers who laid it on altars, after which it was removed by the priests and preserved in the many storehouses built at the rear of the temples. It was then sold to bakeries in the city, and the other tributes were either eaten by the priests or sold by them. It was a very lucrative enterprise.

‘High Priest Nabu,’ continued Axsen, ‘was most upset and declared that Marduk would punish the city, to which I reminded him that if the city fell then his temple would be destroyed by the followers of the bird god, so he agreed.’

‘Reluctantly,’ added Orodes.

‘Each day,’ continued Axsen, ‘the faithful lay before Marduk over two hundred containers of beer, two hundred and forty loaves of bread, fifty rams, three bulls and great quantities of dates, lambs, ducks and eggs. Enough to help feed a city packed full of people.’

‘And what of the Temple of Ishtar and its offerings?’

Axsen giggled. ‘I have to confess that I have made no demands upon Afrand as I do not want to offend the goddess before our wedding.’

She reached over to Orodes who took her hand in his.

‘That annoyed Nabu even more.’

‘I think Lord Nabu’s annoyance will soon disappear now that the city is no longer besieged and his storehouses begin to fill again,’ remarked Orodes.

‘And his treasury,’ said Axsen dryly.

‘What of Babylon’s treasury?’ I asked.

Axsen showed her palms. ‘Empty, and likely to remain so for many years to come.’

No more was said on the matter as I politely asked about their forthcoming marriage, but it made me more determined than ever to make Mithridates pay for what he had done. And after I had taken Ctesiphon then the treasury at Persepolis would also be emptied of its contents.

I stayed in Babylon for another week, though the army began its march back to Dura the day after I had arrived at the city. It travelled along the eastern bank of the Euphrates, now somewhat diminished in numbers compared to its size at the beginning of the campaign. We had suffered low casualties but Surena had departed for Gordyene with eight thousand horse archers and Orodes announced that he was staying in Babylon with his two hundred and fifty men. The latter was a grievous loss. He had become like a brother to me and I would miss his company greatly. Domitus was also sad to see him go but was happy that the army was returning to Dura in triumph following its victory at Makhmur.

‘That will be another silver disc on the Staff of Victory,’ he announced.

‘What about our other triumphs near Seleucia?’ I asked.

‘Slaughters don’t count,’ he sniffed. ‘I wonder what happened to those soldiers you let go? What was the name of that drunk who commanded them?’

‘Udall,’ I answered.

‘You should have killed them by rights. You will only have to fight them again next year.’

I shook my head and smiled. No matter how long he remained in Parthia a part of Domitus would always remain Roman.

The day before I left Babylon, which was now returning to a semblance of normality with the gradual return of the refugees back to what remained of their homes, I rode to the Temple of Ishtar. The temple guards at the entrance let me pass and I trotted into the first courtyard that was empty aside from two young priestesses who hurried out of sight when they saw me. I dismounted and led Remus to the stables that fronted one side of the courtyard where I left him in the care of a young stable hand dressed in the temple’s livery. For some reason there were no worshippers in the temple grounds, the only movement being the white birds entering and exiting their dovecotes. I walked across the courtyard and through the arch that led to the second, smaller courtyard, passing the guards that stood before it. I continued towards the temple doors but the two guards who stood either side of them barred my way.

‘Out of my way,’ I ordered but they remained where they were and stared menacingly at me.

‘Do you know who I am?’

‘The whole world knows who King Pacorus is,’ said a voice behind me.

I turned to see Afrand standing a few paces from me, her hair tumbling over her breasts that were barely held in place by her flimsy transparent white top.

‘I wish to enter the temple,’ I said.

‘The goddess is not receiving guests today.’

‘I wish to speak to the one who spoke to me when I was last here.’

‘There are no words for you today, highness.’

I was starting to get annoyed. ‘I will be the judge of that.’

‘No,’ she calmly, ‘you will not.’

I folded my arms across my chest.

‘It will take more than two guards to prevent me.’

She smiled. ‘The goddess Ishtar has been kind to you, King Pacorus, and now you come to her home with threats of violence. Why would you treat her so disrespectfully?’

I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. ‘I did not mean to insult the goddess, of course not. I merely wished to see if she would speak to me once more.’

She held out her hand. ‘Walk with me majesty.’

She led me away from the temple doors, the fragrance of myrrh on her body entering my nostrils as I walked beside her. Her robe was slit from the waist, revealing her lithe legs, and I found it hard not stare at her voluptuous breasts. She was most intoxicating.

‘Most people who come to worship at the temple are ignored by the goddess because they are unworthy. That she sent you a vision shows that you are beloved of the gods, Pacorus of Dura. But you do not command them to do your bidding any more than I do.’

She was right. ‘I apologise for being so rash.’

We walked from the courtyard into a spacious hall that was rich with the aroma of lavender. A flight of marble steps before us led to a second storey of red-painted doors and walls adorned with scenes of fornication. I blushed as I found myself staring at depictions of naked couples intertwined.

BOOK: Parthian Vengeance
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