The Parthian (70 page)

Patelli’s eyes lit up when he was told this, for such an immense load of people and animals would mean a lot of ships, and a lot of ships would mean much gold flowing into Cilician coffers. As we drank his superb wine and ate his exquisite morsels, he sat back in his chair and placed his hands on his portly belly. He smiled.

‘My friends, this is truly a great day. For Sandon, our god of war, has smiled upon you all. Only the Cilicians can fulfill such a mighty task, and I want you to know that subject to an equitable price being agreed, you can look forward to being in Sicily within three months.’

‘Three months?’ Spartacus was surprised at this. ‘Why so long?’

‘Unfortunately, my friends, we are fulfilling a previously agreed and paid for contract with the Romans.’

‘I thought you were at war with the Romans?’ spat Akmon, wine running down his tunic.

‘Rome rules the land, we rule the sea. Whatever the Romans say, they need our ships to supply them with,’ he looked sheepish, ‘slaves, and sometimes to transport their troops.’

‘What troops?’ I asked.

Patelli looked alarmed. ‘So many questions, and yet I do not know all your names.’

I stood and pointed at Akmon. ‘This man is second to General Spartacus. His name is Akmon and he is a Thracian like my lord. Godarz,’ I looked at my fellow Parthian, ‘is the quartermaster general of the army. While this man, named Domitus, is a Roman and our loyal comrade.’ Domitus tipped his silver goblet at me.

‘And you?’ queried Patelli.

‘My name is Prince Pacorus, and I command the army’s horseman.’

Patelli nodded. ‘You are the Parthian, the one who rides a white horse.’

I sat back down. ‘Yes.’

‘Your fame precedes you, and I thank you for the introductions. But the fact is that my hands are tied until we transport the army of General Lucullus from Macedonia to the port of Brundisium, for we have been paid in advance for our services.’

My heart sank and I felt sick to my stomach. So Crassus had been telling the truth and a new army was indeed coming to southern Italy. We were at the end of a peninsula with no way of escaping. We had one Roman army directly to the north and another would soon be marching west to join it. We were truly trapped, and to make matters worse we were at the mercy of this greedy pirate who sat opposite us.

To his credit, Spartacus betrayed no emotion as he stood and nodded his head to Patelli. ‘Thank you for your time. I await your decision as to the price of renting your ships and a date when you can transport us to Sicily. My camp will be north of Rhegium.’

Later that day, at a meeting of the war council, Spartacus was in a subdued mood, no doubt reflecting on how he had allowed himself to be boxed in by the legions of Crassus, which were hovering to the north. Too far away to be of immediate danger, but casting a dark shadow over us all.

‘There is nothing to stop us attacking Crassus while we wait for these pirates to assemble their ships,’ said Akmon.

‘That would certainly give us the advantage,’ I added. ‘At the very least my horse could harry him and keep him on the defensive.’

‘What do your scouts report at the moment?’ asked Spartacus.

I shrugged. ‘Nothing. They are sitting in their camp doing nothing. And when they send out cavalry patrols they retreat as soon as they see any of my men.’

‘He’s waiting for reinforcements to arrive from Brundisium, that’s why he’s quiet,’ said Akmon. ‘And that’s why we should attack.’

Spartacus drummed his fingers on the table, while outside the wind lashed the outside of the tent. Winter in Bruttium was mostly mild I was told, but was prone to frequent and violent storms, one of which was now blasting our living quarters with high winds and a heavy downpour. Godarz had organised the building of temporary stables for the horses, made from the logs and wicker panels, as I suspected that Spartacus would not budge from this place of his own volition. I was proved right.

He made a fist and slammed it on the table. ‘No! We stay here as long as the Romans remain where they are. If we advance north and defeat Crassus, what then? If we destroy him, we will still have to come back here if we want to get to Sicily. We will be shedding blood for nothing.’

‘And once those reinforcements arrive we will be shedding a lot more blood,’ added Akmon, grimly.

‘It’s three hundred miles between here and Brundisium,’ snapped Spartacus. ‘We will have plenty of time to decide what to do.’

‘Do you trust that pirate, Spartacus?’ asked Castus.

‘Not really, but I can see that he is a greedy little bastard and he knows that we have a lot of gold. That’s why he will do business with us. In the meantime, we stay here and keep our swords sharp.’

The enforced stay meant we could devote more time to training and drills, and as an added bonus we practised on the seashore, the long, narrow beaches of mainly sand with a sprinkling of pebbles being ideal for the horses to stretch their legs. We planted targets in the sea, ran our mounts along the wet sand at the water’s edge and loosed arrows at circles of tightly packed straw strung between two poles standing in the water, while on other beaches Burebista’s dragon fought mock battles with their lances tipped with bundles of cloth and used small, long sacks crammed full of leaves instead of swords for close-quarter combat. It was great fun and all the horsemen and women wanted to take part in the ‘sack battles’. On one occasion a thousand horsemen on a ten-mile stretch of beach fought a mock battle, though what started out as a serious drill aimed at perfecting company level manoeuvres descending into hilarity as companies tried to outflank each other and ended up riding their horses into the sea until the water lapped around the beasts’ shoulders, with men hitting each other with sacks soaked in seawater. Gallia’s women took part and hit their opponents with gusto, until the sacks burst and the whole beach was covered with leaves. Afterwards we groomed and tended the horses, collected driftwood and had a giant feast after I gave orders that several bulls were to be slaughtered. As we watched the sun go down in the western sky, over a calm and smooth sea, I held Gallia close and wrapped her in my cloak.

‘Well, soon we will be on this island of Sicily and then we can think about getting back to Hatra.’

She turned and looked at me, the gentle wind ruffling her hair ever so slightly. ‘Do you truly believe that?’

‘Of course, we have only to wait a few more weeks and then we will be out of Italy.’

She laid her head on my shoulder. ‘The Romans will follow us wherever we go. Of that I am certain.’

But the Romans seemed far away as the weeks rolled by, and as the new year dawned we almost forgot that they existed. I sent out patrols to alert us of any movements by Crassus’ legions, but they merely stayed behind their palisades and waited. But while we trained, sharpened our weapons and kept our bowstrings taught, a new enemy emerged.

‘We are running short of supplies’ said Godarz, pacing up and down Spartacus’ tent. He pointed at me. ‘Each horse eats around twenty pounds in weight of fodder a day and there are nearly four thousand of them.’

‘We can confiscate all the hay and grain from this area,’ I replied.

Godarz stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips in frustration. ‘I’ve already done that, and we are still running out of food. This is a poor area for hay. Pasture and grain are also not in abundance.’

‘How long before you run out of food for the horses?’ asked Spartacus, drawing the point of his dagger across his desk.

‘A month,’ replied Godarz, ‘perhaps less.’

‘Then we will have to go north and replenish our supplies,’ I said. ‘Lucania should be able to fulfil our needs.’

‘There’s a Roman army between here and there,’ mused Akmon.

I did not think it much of a threat. ‘I’ll swing east and go around it. Crassus won’t budge while the main army remains here.’

‘No, he won’t,’ said Spartacus, idly. He jumped out of his chair. ‘And we will use that to our advantage.’

‘How? asked Castus.

‘It’s simple.’

‘It is?’ I was confused.

‘Pacorus, you are right when you say that you will have to go north, but instead of Lucania I think it would be best if you went to Brundisium.’

Akmon laughed. ‘So you solve the problem of feeding the cavalry by getting them all killed. It was a pleasure knowing you, Pacorus, and I hope you have a good death.’

I stared at Spartacus in disbelief.

‘Don’t look at me like that. Listen. Take your cavalry and raid Brundisium while the Romans are disembarking their army. Surprise them and hit them hard. They won’t be expecting an assault, because as far as they know we are all nicely boxed in at Rhegium. Hit them hard and then get back here as fast as you can. When you return I will attack Crassus while you assault him from the rear. And then hopefully our pirate friends will have their ships ready to take us to Sicily.’

Akmon was shaking his head. ‘It’s a risky plan, Spartacus. If Pacorus loses then we lose his cavalry, and his horsemen have been the difference between victory and defeat on more than one occasion.’

‘Akmon,’ I said. ‘you flatter me, but you shouldn’t, really.’

He snarled at me. ‘I only want you to live so you can provide a screen while we embark on the ships for Sicily. Then we’ll leave you to the tender mercy of Crassus. You can wave at me from your cross as I sail across the Strait of Messina.’

‘Crassus will have scouts out like us, Spartacus,’ said Castus. ‘It will not be easy slipping three thousand cavalry past him.’

Spartacus sat back down in his chair and grinned. He was in a good mood at the prospect of doing something at last. ‘Don’t worry about that, we will undertake a little diversion to get friend Crassus’ attention.’

‘An attack on his camp?’ asked Akmon.

‘A small diversion, nothing more. I will send Afranius and his Spaniards. Who knows, perhaps he will destroy Crassus all on his own.’

‘More likely get himself killed,’ sniffed Akmon.

‘When do I leave, lord?’ I asked.

‘In two days, Pacorus.’

Godarz nodded approvingly. ‘That will certainly alleviate the supply situation.’

The day before we left was a rain-lashed affair that drenched the ground and reduced the avenues in our camp to rivers of glutinous mud. I sat with Gallia in my tent as the wind made great indentations in its side. Though it was not normally cold, today the wind and the rain had reduced the temperature to such an extent that we sat in chairs with our cloaks wrapped around one another, and held our hands to the coals of a brazier. Her hair was tied into a plait and her eyes appeared icily blue. As soon as she had heard of the great raid she was determined to accompany me, she and her group of women. I knew that the men would not object, as they had come to view her women archers as good luck charms. I was far from happy, though.

‘That is your final word, then?’

She flashed a stern look at me. ‘It is.’

‘I don’t suppose I could appeal to your better nature.’

‘No.’

‘I can’t guarantee your safety.’

Her face melted into an expression of affection and sympathy. ‘Oh, Pacorus, ever the valiant knight. Do you think that I am safer sitting here than riding with you to Brundisium? Of course not. But if I am to die I would prefer to do so killing Romans, and so would my women. And if I am to die I want to do so fighting beside you.’

I shuddered. ‘So be it, though I think it would be better to leave Diana behind. I fear she has no heart for being a soldier.’

Gallia laughed. ‘Yes, she is not an Amazon.’

‘A what?’

‘The Amazons were a race of women warriors who lived on the island of Lemnos in the Aegean Sea. That is what we call ourselves, the Amazons.’

‘A truly terrifying idea, my love. Perhaps I should stay here while you and your women burn Brundisium, and I can wait for the pirate ships to arrive.’

She looked at me with amusement. ‘You think that the pirates will honour their agreement?’

‘Why not? We have already paid their representative, Patelli, a deposit in gold. Besides, they will make a lot of money from dealing with us.’

‘Do you know that the Cilician pirates make most of their money from the slave trade? Their main slave market is on an island called Delos, north of Crete. They capture Roman trade vessels and enslave their crews, then sell the same crews back to the Romans as slaves. They raid all over the Mediterranean and take who and what they want. Greed is their only motivation. Spartacus is a fool to think they will do his bidding.’

‘I thought you liked him,’ I said.

‘I do. He is like a brother to me. But what’s that to do with anything? He is still a fool to trust anyone save those that are around him. Even the lowliest soldier in his army knows that we can only look to ourselves for our safety. These pirates are, if we are to believe them, at this very moment working for the Romans. Do you think the Romans will want them being our mules afterwards?’

I leaned back in my chair. ‘If, as you say, the pirates are only interested in profit, then why shouldn’t they work for us?’

Her blue eyes narrowed. ‘Because the Romans have the money to persuade them to do otherwise.’

‘I would have thought that the Romans would be glad to see the back of us.’

She raised her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. ‘The Romans will not rest until we are wiped out. You know so little about them. They are ruled by pride and vanity, and the existence of this army is a gross insult to both of those vices. They can’t parade themselves as masters of the world with an army of slaves roaming at will throughout Italy.’

‘The Romans are not the masters of the world, my sweet. They cannot fight everybody.’

She shrugged and then grinned. ‘Do the Parthians believe that they are better than the Romans?’

‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘We
know
we are better. After all, no Roman army has ever stepped foot on Parthian soil and survived, and yet here am I leading horsemen in the Romans’ backyard.’

She threw a cushion at me. ‘Is that why you stay? To prove that you are better than the Romans; is that not vanity?’