The Parthian (9 page)

‘Portents,’ she spat the word at me, ‘portents of doom. You will slither like a serpent into the belly of your enemies, and there eat away at their innards.’ 

She was clearly mad, but she still held my hand fast. She looked at the palm a second time after drawing circular motions with her forefinger in her spittle. 

‘The eagle will scream in pain but will thirst for revenge. Many eagles will pursue you, but under the desert sun you will pick at their bones. A pale goddess with fire in her eyes will be your companion, son of Hatra.’

Then she let go of my hand, reached over and grabbed some pork ribs from my plate, and shuffled away. As she passed Sinatruces she turned to him. 

‘Merv burns while you stuff your face, old man.’

Sinatruces looked alarmed as the old hag walked away, chewing on a rib as she did so. He beckoned to his chancellor who scurried over. Sinatruces spoke to him in a somewhat agitated manner, and then the chancellor hurried off.

‘Merv is a city on our eastern frontier,’ whispered my father.

‘Do we listen to the ramblings of an insane, stinking witch?’ I replied, wiping my hand with a napkin. 

‘I don’t know, Pacorus,’ he said, staring at me. ‘Do we?’

I could barely hide my annoyance. ‘No, we do not.’

I called for a servant to refill my goblet with wine. The hag had disappeared now, along with my appetite. I dismissed what she had said from my mind. Eagles, serpents? I shook my head. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Vistaspa looking at me, but not with his usual mocking stare. Instead, he nodded and toasted me with his goblet. This discomfited me even more. 

The next day we departed Ctesiphon for Hatra, taking the cartloads of gold with us. Our audience with Sinatruces and Phraates that morning had been brief, and the old king had seemed very distracted. Phraates offered us extra guards for the journey but my father declined his offer. Vistaspa’s men were more than adequate, though for additional security he sent riders ahead to order that more of Hatra’s cavalry meet us on the road.

‘This gold should pay for the additional troops you want to enlist,’ said Vistaspa as we rode at the head of the column.

My father nodded thoughtfully. ‘An unexpected bonus, that’s for sure. I was worried Sinatruces was after a portion of the Roman gold we took. Still, what with that and his gift, we should have enough spears to keep the border secure.’

‘You think the Romans will attack us, father?’

‘For certain,’ he replied.

‘Raids, most probably,’ said Vistaspa. ‘A few villages burned, maybe a town, if we don’t keep our guard up.’

‘We’ll have to watch the north especially,’ said my father, ‘since I doubt our old friend Darius will give us any support.’

Vistaspa nodded. ‘He might pay a few more tribesmen to cause us problems.’

‘Two can play at that game,’ said my father.

But thoughts of Roman raids soon passed as we travelled along dusty roads baked hard under blue skies. The pace was leisurely, and for long periods we walked beside our horses, resting under canvas shades two hours either side of midday, when the heat was most fierce. Four days from Hatra, a detachment of the city’s cavalry led by Vata met us during the late afternoon.  Vata pulled up his horse in front of my father, bowed his head then reached inside a saddlebag to hand him a scroll. My father read it, frowned and passed it to Vistaspa.

Vistaspa, as was his wont, read it without expression. ‘It’s begun, then.’

‘Sooner than I thought.’

‘What is it, father?’ I asked.

‘A message from Bozan. A week ago Roman cavalry attacked and plundered Sirhi. They must have crossed the Arabian Desert from Syria. They have taken many captives, no doubt to be sold as slaves.’ Sirhi was a town on the banks of the Euphrates, in the north of the kingdom.

‘I have to get back to Hatra. Vata, you will escort the gold to the city. I, Vistaspa and Pacorus will ride to the city tonight.’

After a light meal we left in the early evening, riding hard. We covered the fifty miles in a day, arriving at the palace late at night. Bozan was waiting for us in the council chamber. After going to see my mother, I and my father went to the chamber where Bozan was deep in conversation with Vistaspa.

‘Well?’ enquired my father, ‘how bad is it?’

‘Not as bad as we first feared, my lord,’ replied Bozan. ‘The town remains intact, though the outlying villages have being mostly reduced to ashes and their inhabitants carried off into slavery. The garrison commander panicked and exaggerated the size of the Roman force and the damage they did.’

‘Doesn’t mean there aren’t more Roman troops in the area,’ added Vistaspa.

‘There is a legion at Damascus, but to march it across the desert just for a raid seems too big a risk,’ mused my father.

Bozan was in a bullish mood. ‘Strike back at them, my lord. They cannot be allowed to get away with this outrage.’

‘A wise course of action, I agree,’ added Vistaspa, ‘but the question is, where to strike?’

While my father deliberated, servants brought us wine, fruit and bread. We were tired and covered in dust, while our eyes were ringed with black through lack of sleep.

‘I can’t decide tonight,’ said my father at last. ‘We will reconvene in the morning.’

Chapter 3

A
fter a night’s rest I had breakfast with my mother in the small palace garden that she tended as a hobby. The plants and flowerbeds were immaculate, and the gentle sound of the fountain in the middle of the shallow pond filled with goldfish gave a sense of calm. My mother was dressed in a simple white dress, with a gold chain at her waist. Her shoulder-length black hair was loose, showing its natural waves. She wore little make-up or jewelry and wore simple leather sandals on her feet

Servants served us fruit and bread. Queen Mihri was in a happy mood.

‘How did you find King Sinatruces, Pacorus?’

‘He’s old,’ I replied.

She laughed. ‘He certainly is, but also wise and astute. You don’t rule a collection of kingdoms for nearly fifty years without ability.’

‘I suppose not,’ I said, watching a shapely servant girl walk from the table carrying an empty food tray.

‘Your father tells me that you had a private audience with the king’s sorceress.’

I shuddered. ‘She was a disgusting old hag. It was humiliating.’

My mother laughed. ‘I’m sure she was, but the fact that she picked you out is of note. Some would consider it a great honour to hear her words. The prophecies of Dobbai are famous throughout the empire.’

‘Meaningless drivel, mother. She is clearly insane and no one should pay any attention to her.’

‘You speak with the certainty of youth.’ Her big round brown eyes hinted at gentle mockery. I shrugged. ‘But do not dismiss her words too lightly. I for one believe that she can see the future.’

She could tell by my expression that I had no interest in discussing the old crone any further, so she moved on to another subject.

‘Your father and I think it is time to think of a bride for you.’

‘What?’ my heart sank.

‘You are now a famous warrior, and in any case a prince of Hatra cannot remain single for ever.’

‘I’m too young,’ I protested.

‘Nonsense, you are twenty-two, which is old enough to be betrothed. I hear that Princess Axsen of Babylon is available.’ I suddenly lost my appetite. ‘Perhaps we will arrange for you to see her. The daughter of the Kingdom of Babylon would strengthen the position of Hatra.’

‘I would prefer to marry someone whom I loved.’

‘You are not a farmer, Pacorus. Princes must marry to cement alliances and ensure the safety of their kingdoms,’ she rebuked me. ‘Besides, is there someone who has stolen your heart?’

‘Of course not.’

She smiled. ‘Then surely you have no objection to meeting Princess Axsen, at thevery least? I hear that she is a great beauty. I’m sure love could grow from such a match.’

I was about to protest but thought better of it. My mother had the appearance of a softly spoken, acquiescent woman, but she had a will of iron and was not to be crossed lightly. I therefore just nodded my agreement and began thinking of how I could avoid meeting Princess Water Buffalo.

She clapped her hands for the servants to take the food away. ‘Excellent.’

I rose and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thank you, mother.’

I left her feeling somewhat aggrieved and made my way to the council chamber. The day was hot and airless, but the marble-tiled palace was cool and quiet. I took my place next to my father, who looked refreshed and in a good mood as he chatted with Assur. In fact, everyone was in attendance — Assur, Addu, Kogan, Bozan, Kogan and Vistaspa.

The doors were closed and my father spoke, his tone stern. ‘We have now been attacked twice by Rome and it is time for us to retaliate. There can be no peace until Rome has understood that Parthia, and especially Hatra, is not a lamb but a lion. To this end I intend to launch an assault across the desert against Syria. I will lead this expedition. Our strength lies in speed and stealth, therefore I will take no heavy cavalry, light horsemen only. To aid us in our little adventure, we will hire some Agraci to accompany us.’

‘But, my lord,’ protested Bozan, ‘the Agraci are scum who would slit your throat in the same breath that they would offer their hand in greetings.’

‘I know that, Bozan, and I have no doubt that they helped the Romans attack Sirhi, but they can be bought easily enough. Offer enough gold and they will sell their own mothers and daughters.’

‘I would rather have their camels,’ said Bozan.

The Agraci were a tribe of nomads who inhabited the Arabian Peninsula. Like all of the tribes in that region, they consisted mostly of thieves and beggars who preyed on the unwary. We spent considerable resources on keeping them away from the trade routes, frequently having to launch punitive raids into the desert. Being wanderers, they were often difficult to find. Occasionally we got lucky and were able to slaughter a lot of them, leaving their bones to bleach in the sun. But, like flies, they seemed to be eternal, and just as irritable. Their only redeeming feature was that their services could easily be hired if you had enough gold.

‘Just make sure you keep upwind of them on the journey,’ added Vistaspa.

‘This raid is only one part of our response,’ added my father. He got up and stood beside the large map of the Parthian Empire that hung on the wall. He pulled the dagger from the scabbard that hung from his belt and used it as a pointer.

‘We will launch a second, smaller raid here, against Cappadocia. Five hundred men mounted on swift horses should be enough to give the Romans a taste of their own medicine. Bozan, you will lead this expedition.’

Bozan grinned and ran his hands across his shaved head. ‘A pleasure, my lord.’

‘Remember,’ continued my father, ‘it’s only a raid. Go in fast, hit them hard and then get out. And to continue his military education, Pacorus will ride along with you.’

I looked at Bozan and grinned, who nodded his approval. This was an excellent development. The chance of fighting again filed me with joy, the more so since it would get me out of the city and away from my mother’s schemes to get me married. Addu cleared his throated rather noisily.

‘You have something to say, Lord Addu?’ asked my father.

‘Er, merely this, majesty,’ Addu replied, gingerly rising from his seat. My father indicated for him to remain seated. ‘Though I am sure that these expeditions will add more glory to your name, they may damage trade. May I remind you that Palmyra, Petra and Baalbeck, all towns in the area you intend to assault, are of importance to Hatra. If they are destroyed then our revenues will suffer.’

‘I am aware of the importance of trade to the city,’ said my father. ‘Rest assured that we will not be attacking caravans or trading centres. We will be striking military outposts. There are a number of forts along the desert frontier. It is my hope to surprise one or two and put them to the torch.’

‘But what if the Romans retaliate by halting their trade?’ asked Addu.

My father, who I could tell was losing patience with his treasurer, sat down and stared at him. ‘I can assure you, Lord Addu, that the last thing the Romans want is to stop trading with the east.’

‘That’s true,’ added Bozan, ‘the bastards have an insatiable demand for lions and tigers to slaughter in their arenas, and they can’t get enough silk.’

Assur winced at Bozan’s course language, but nodded in agreement. ‘Lord Bozan is correct in what he says, even if the words he uses to express his opinion are somewhat vulgar. We cannot allow Roman outrages to go unpunished.’

‘But, your majesty,’ said Addu.

‘Enough,’ snapped my father. ‘The decision has been made, we will leave in seven days.’

A crestfallen Addu starred at the table in silence.

‘There are Romans in the city, majesty.’ It was first time that Kogan had spoken. ‘If they hear of any expeditions they will surely send word back to their masters.’

There were nods around the table.

‘You are right, Lord Kogan,’ said my father. ‘No one is to speak of this matter outside of this room. As far as the city is concerned, we are merely carrying out training manoeuvres. When we have left the city I will send riders to the Agraci to see if they want to earn some gold. Hopefully, I will be able to get a lot of them killed in battle before I have to pay them anything. That is all.’

Everyone stood, bowed and then left the room. My father called me over.

‘Pacorus, say nothing of what you have heard to Gafarn or Vata. Is that understood.’

‘Yes, father.’

‘The Romans have spies everywhere. We cannot be too careful.’

‘Will there be war between us and the Romans?’ I asked.

My father sighed and considered before giving his reply. ‘What we have now is an armed peace. The Romans are testing us, seeking to discover our strength.’

‘We have a strong army,’ I said, proudly.

‘It is not just a question of spears and horses. It is also one of will. The Romans are strong because they never give up. Their army is like a machine that chews up everything in its path. Many kingdoms lack the will to fight the Romans. They are not unbeatable, we have proved that, but to fight them year in, year out, takes an iron will. Few possess that quality. There are many like King Darius who want to live a life of luxury. But here’s the clever thing about the Romans. They offer individuals like Darius the opportunity to be a client king. Be our friend, they say, and you can rule your kingdom in peace, unmolested as long as you pay your dues to Rome. But a client kingdom is a slave kingdom, which eventually will be filled with Roman soldiers and civilians, who build garrisons, towns, roads and ports that bring in yet more Romans. And then Rome annexes that kingdom and it is swallowed up, to become just one more province in the Roman Empire.’