Parthian Vengeance (4 page)

‘Ah, you are here, good.’

He walked over and embraced me, then Orodes.

‘You look well, lord king.’

‘You do not have to call me lord, Pacorus. You are, after all, a king yourself.’

In truth I had never been able to put aside my sense of awe when in the presence of Haytham. He was the leader of the entire Agraci people, the man Parthian parents invoked when they wanted to frighten their children. Though he had proved a good friend and valuable ally, he still unnerved me somewhat. He turned to Orodes.

‘Now you Orodes should be a king, and would be if Pacorus had killed your stepbrother when he had a chance.’

‘How’s Byrd?’ I asked, changing the subject.

Byrd may have been the Parthian army’s chief scout but he had made his home in Palmyra with an Agraci woman named Noora. Haytham gestured for us to sit on the cushions.

‘He’s well, as far as I know. Keeps himself to himself. Malik knows more than I do.’

Servants brought us water. ‘He prospers,’ said Malik. ‘He seems happy enough.’

‘Gallia wanted him to live in the palace with us; but I think the desert suits him better.’

More servants carried in bread that had been cooked on an open fire, mutton mixed with rice and vegetables, butter, yoghurt, cheese, honey and eggs.

‘Rasha is well, lord?’ I asked.

Rasha was Haytham’s young daughter and was the chief reason that I was now sitting in the tent of my people’s greatest enemy. When I first came to Dura I found Rasha a captive in the Citadel. Ever since their first meeting she and my wife had forged a close bond. We had subsequently returned Rasha to her father, and good fortune had favoured all of us ever since.

‘Growing ever more the princess,’ he replied. ‘Gallia spoils her.’ Rasha had her own room in the Citadel at Dura, and I knew that Gallia had a tendency to treat her as one of her own children. ‘I fear you are right, lord.’

‘When she is at Dura there are five women to gang up on Pacorus,’ said Orodes, shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth. ‘He is outnumbered and outwitted at every turn.’

Haytham smiled. ‘Three daughters and no sons. You should rectify that.’

I avoided his eyes. ‘Alas lord, there will be no more children.’

Haytham looked solemn. ‘I grieve for you.’

I looked up at him. ‘Alcaeus, our Greek physician, told me after the birth of Eszter that Gallia would be able to bear no more children. Shamash has blessed me with my wife and three daughters. I can ask no more.’

Orodes fidgeted with his food and Malik looked uncomfortable.

‘I am sure that you did not invite us here to discuss my children,’ I said.

Haytham pointed at one of the guards standing by the entrance to the dining area where we sat cross-legged on the floor. He bowed and disappeared outside.

‘No indeed,’ replied Haytham. ‘I have someone here whom you might find interesting.’

A few minutes later the guard returned with a man in tow, a figure of medium height and build with an untidy black beard and scruffy clothes. I estimated him to be in his early twenties. He eyed Orodes and me warily as he bowed his head to Haytham.

‘This is Aaron, Pacorus, a Jew and a man who kills Romans. Is that not correct, Aaron?’

Aaron’s eyes darted from Haytham to me. ‘I have killed my enemies, it is true.’

Haytham nodded at me. ‘This is King Pacorus, Aaron, a warrior who has won many great victories, most of them against the Romans. He has killed more Romans than you.’

Aaron bowed his head to me. ‘Then it is an honour to meet you, lord.’

‘Perhaps Aaron could sit with us,’ I said to Haytham, ‘so that we may be spared aching necks from having to look up at him.’

Haytham waved his hand at Aaron for him to sit with us. The way he tucked into the food before him indicated that he had not eaten properly for weeks. This view was confirmed by Haytham who told us his story while our guest tried to devour everything that was brought to us by the servants, in between taking large gulps of water and then wine. The son of a merchant, he had spent the last two years in hiding in Judea and fighting the troops of a Jewish king named Hyrcanus. Aaron had been in the army of another king named Aristobulus who had lost the civil war in Judea. The names meant nothing to me, but the end of Aaron’s story did intrigue me.

‘Ever since that bastard Pompey came to Judea my homeland is nothing more than a plaything of the Romans.’

I stopped eating. ‘Pompey?’

Aaron also desisted his interpretation of a pig feasting. ‘You know this name, lord?’

Both Orodes and Malik looked at me and at each other.

‘Indeed,’ I answered. ‘With his army he thought to conquer my kingdom.’

Aaron was wide eyed. ‘What happened?’

‘I persuaded him that retreat was preferable to fighting.’

Haytham slapped his hands together. ‘Not quite as I remember it.’

‘Nor I,’ added Orodes.

‘Pacorus summoned the might of Parthia to his side,’ said Malik, ‘and then my father added his army to the strength of Pacorus. Pompey turned back and never returned.’

Aaron wiped his mouth with his sleeve. ‘I would have liked to have seen that, lord. To have seen the Romans run.’

‘I thought you may have a use for Aaron, Pacorus,’ said Haytham.

‘You are going to march against the Romans?’ Aaron’s eyes flashed with excitement.

‘Not unless they march against me,’ I replied.

His excitement disappeared. ‘They will. There are two legions in Syria, and Judea sucks up to the Romans like a helpless lamb. They will swallow up Egypt soon enough, and then…’

He held out his arms in a forlorn gesture and spoke no more. I looked at Orodes and Malik. We knew the Romans and also knew that what Aaron had said was correct. Rome had an insatiable desire for lands and peoples to subjugate. The mood lightened somewhat when I questioned Aaron on his talents, of which he appeared to have many. His mother tongue was Aramaic but he could speak Greek, Agraci and Parthian well enough, though he said he refused to speak any Latin. His travels accompanying his father had taken him to Antioch, Jerusalem, Egypt and other towns and cities along the Mediterranean coast. Haytham was right, I could use such a man, or at least Godarz or Rsan could.

Aaron was delighted when I told him he would be welcome to accompany us back to Dura.

‘One thing you should know, though,’ I told him. ‘The man who commands my foot soldiers is a Roman.’

Aaron’s eyes opened wide in horror. ‘A Roman?’

‘A fine man,’ said Orodes.

‘And a great warrior,’ added Malik. ‘A man I am proud to call a friend.’

Aaron looked confused. ‘I do not understand. King Haytham, you said that King Pacorus has fought the Romans.’

Haytham nodded. ‘And so he has.’

Aaron then looked at me. ‘Then how is it that a Roman leads your soldiers?’

‘It is a long story,’ I replied, ‘but suffice to say that he is a man whom I trust with my life.’

‘It is most strange,’ mused Aaron.

‘No stranger than some regarding King Pacorus as a messiah,’ said Orodes.

‘There is only one messiah,’ snapped Aaron.

‘Who is that?’ I asked.

Aaron stared into the distance. ‘The one who will deliver us from oppression.’ He shot a glance at me. ‘And the Romans.’

‘Where is this messiah?’ asked Malik.

‘He has not come yet, but God will send him. It is written.’

‘What god?’ I asked casually.

‘The god of Abraham, the one true god.’

‘There are many gods,’ I replied, ‘what is his name?’

Aaron’s eyes blazed with determination. ‘No, there is only one.’

The next day Haytham took Orodes and me hunting. He also brought along his daughter Rasha. Now in her years just before womanhood, she had grown into a beautiful albeit wilful young lady. Her hair was as black as night, her eyes dark brown and her olive skin flawless. Like most of her people she was tall and lithe and had been raised to the saddle from an early age.

‘One day, lord,’ I told him as we rode into the rock and sand vastness south of his huge settlement, ‘there will be great buildings and temples at Palmyra.’

He eyed me suspiciously. ‘We have always lived in tents and always will.’

‘Would you not like a palace to receive your visitors?’

‘Palaces can be besieged and reduced to rubble. If I give the command Palmyra can vanish like a desert mirage.’

‘Who would sack your palace, lord?’ queried Orodes, riding on the other side of the king.

‘The Romans,’ he replied.

‘Have you heard reports of the Romans making preparations for war?’ I asked with concern.

‘No, but with Romans in Syria and now Judea a Roman province in all but name I have potential enemies to the north and west. As Palmyra grows richer then it becomes a greater prize to possess for those with envious eyes.’

‘We turned them back once, we can do so again,’ I said.

‘What do you think of Aaron?’ he asked, changing the subject.

‘He needs feeding up.’

Haytham laughed. ‘He may look like a thief, but I think you will find him useful. Besides, if he stays here he will cause problems for us. We are too near to Judea I think, and if he foments trouble then the Romans will turn their attention to Palmyra.’

‘What sort of trouble?’

‘Aaron tells me that there are still rebels, freedom fighters he calls them, in Judea battling the Romans and their Jewish allies. He is one of them and burns to go back there.’

‘Then why doesn’t he?’ I asked.

Haytham smiled grimly. ‘He hopes to recruit others to his cause. He asked me whether the Agraci would support his friends.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I said no, of course. The fate of Judea does not concern me.’

‘And you think it concerns me?’ I asked.

‘Of course not, but Dura is further from Judea than Palmyra. I think Aaron could be useful if his attention is turned elsewhere. And I wish to be rid of him. If you don’t want him then I will have him killed. It is nothing to me.’

‘I have offered him a place at Dura, lord, so let it be so.’

Rasha suddenly squealed and dug her knees into the sides of her horse as a gazelle broke cover from behind a collection of large boulders ahead and bolted for its life. She already had an arrow nocked in her bow as she galloped after her prey. We followed hard on her horse’s hooves. I reached behind me and pulled my bow from its hide case then extracted an arrow from my quiver. Beneath me Remus powered ahead, straining to reach the gazelle as it tried to outrun us. I nocked the arrow in the bowstring as Remus caught up with Rasha’s mount. Haytham and Orodes were immediately behind. Orodes shot his bow and the arrow cut through the air beside us as the gazelle suddenly darted right and then left. The arrow missed as Remus thundered across the baked ground in the wake of our prey. I brought up my bow so the bowstring was next to my face. I had done this a hundred times on the battlefield and on hunting expeditions. Keep looking at the target, lean slightly forward; let the bow become part of your body, as one with your soul. Time crawled as Remus closed on the gazelle and my breathing slowed as I aimed at the animal’s hindquarters and released the bowstring. In the blink of an eye the gazelle changed direction once more and I missed him. Rasha pulled her horse right to follow the gazelle and shot her arrow, the iron head slammed into its side and caused the beast to stumble and roll over and over. She pulled up her horse and then lightning fast, shot another two arrows into the prostrate animal. It lay motionless, dead.

Elated, she leapt from her horse and ran over to the gazelle to stand beside it, raising her bow in triumph at her victory. I halted Remus in front of her.

‘I’m glad all that time spent with Gallia and her women on the training fields did not go to waste, Rasha.’

She grinned at me. ‘One day I will be an Amazon and will slay the enemies of your people and mine in battle.’

Haytham, Malik and Orodes rode up to join us.

‘Did you see, father? I beat Pacorus, the greatest warrior in the Parthian Empire.’

She suddenly looked at Orodes. ‘I meant no offence, Orodes.’

Orodes smiled at her. ‘And none was taken, little princess. Well done.’

‘Did your hand slip, Pacorus?’ asked Malik. ‘Perhaps we can invent a fiction that will save your face, for I fear that all Palmyra will soon learn that you have been bettered by a girl.’

‘Thank you for bringing that to my attention, my friend.’

Haytham leaned forward. ‘Well done, daughter. We shall eat your catch tonight in celebration.’

The king’s entourage arrived, a score of warriors on horseback and attendants on camels. They slung the dead gazelle on one of the ill-tempered humped beasts and took it back to Palmyra. We continued with the hunt but came across no more gazelles, so Haytham ordered a halt at a small oasis surrounded by date palms. It was now blisteringly hot and we were glad of the shade and the opportunity to eat and slake our thirsts. After we had tethered our horses beneath one of the trees Rasha threw her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.

‘Will you tell Gallia about the gazelle?’

‘Of course,’ I replied, ‘she will be delighted.’

‘I have asked her if I can join the Amazons.’

‘Really?’ I looked at Haytham, who was frowning.

‘She said I would have to ask my father. I was hoping you could speak to him on my behalf.’

‘Oh, I see.’

She looked imploringly at me with her big brown eyes.

Haytham saved me. ‘You should not pester Pacorus so. He is a king and has better things to think about than the fantasies of a young girl.’

Rasha stuck out her tongue at him and sauntered off to supervise the meal that was being prepared for us. I doubted that Haytham would allow his daughter to join my wife’s band of women warriors, not least because she was a princess of her own people. The Amazons were mostly former slaves, runaways, prostitutes, thieves and the like, all united by a bond of sisterhood. And they were lethal. Gallia and her band were mounted on the finest horses, clothed in helmets and mail shirts and armed with bows and swords. I knew Rasha idolised them and they viewed her as a sort of younger sister, a lucky mascot. I also knew that her dream of being one of them was as her father had said, a fantasy.