Parthian Vengeance (54 page)

I asked Vata to send additional wagons from Nisibus to carry the wood and eventually we filled a hundred and fifty for the journey south. The day before we left Byrd and Malik returned to us with their scouts to report that Surena and his men had entered Gordyene unseen. I told them both what had happened since they had been away and how we were marching south to Assur. That night I wrote a letter to Gallia telling her everything that had happened and adding a footnote concerning Orodes’ desire to marry Axsen. I also asked her to remain at Dura. I said nothing of the army forming at Ctesiphon preparing to march against Babylon. If she got wind of the city being in peril she might be tempted to muster Dura’s lords and march south to Axsen’s aid. If she did they would be cut to pieces by Narses’ heavy cavalry. I prayed to Shamash that He would prevent Dobbai having any visions about Babylon’s predicament until I returned to Dura.

Heavily loaded with provisions and lumber the army marched southeast to the Tigris and then followed the river south to Assur. As the days passed the heat of a Mesopotamian summer began to roast our backs as the country turned from a lush green to a parched brown and then a sun-blasted yellow. The men stashed their leggings on the wagons and horsemen brought out their floppy hats to shield their necks and faces from the unrelenting sun. We made twenty miles every day, most of the horsemen walking beside their mounts for most of the journey, riding only when they were sent out on patrol. Even though we were in my father’s kingdom I sent out reconnaissance patrols to scout the surrounding country, and Byrd and Malik rode far ahead, sending patrols into the villages. With eighty thousand or more enemy soldiers somewhere on the other side of the Tigris I did not want to run into any nasty surprises on our journey south.

The first five days were quiet and uneventful, the only opposition being the heat and the dust that was kicked up as we marched across the parched earth. The days were cloudless, windless and very hot; the nights clear, cooler and welcome. On the sixth day, in the early afternoon, Byrd and Malik rejoined the army after having spent the night with some of their men south of the army. They found me walking with Orodes, Domitus and Kronos in front of the Duran Legion’s colour party. The sun was illuminating its golden griffin and making it appear almost molten.

‘No sign of enemy,’ reported Byrd.

‘We have ridden to within forty miles of Assur, Pacorus,’ added Malik, ‘and have made contact with outriders from the garrison. They too have seen nothing.’

‘It would appear that we have stolen a march on the enemy, then,’ I said. ‘What news of my father?’

‘The king is marching from Hatra with his army, Assur’s men inform us,’ replied Byrd. He nodded towards the river. ‘Water very low, Pacorus. Easy for horses to cross.’

He was right about that. The passing of the spring floodwaters swells the Tigris, especially when it receives the waters of the Upper Zab River that flows into it fifty miles upstream of Assur. But now summer was here the waters had subsided and the depth had dropped, the high-sided banks the only indication of the levels the waters had reached during the spring. Now the Tigris was a lazy brown monster that meandered its way south across the great plains of eastern Hatra and western Media.

We reached Assur two days later, making camp four miles north of the city and inland from the river. The city itself had been constructed on a great bend in the river so that the Tigris protected its northern and eastern walls like a giant moat. In addition, a proper moat had been dug to encompass the other two sides using water from the river so that the city was surrounded on all four sides by water in addition to its walls. There were three entrances to Assur: the Tabira Gate in the northwest, the West Gate and the South Gate, each one reached by means of wide stone bridges that spanned the fifty-foot-wide moat. And from each gatehouse flew the white horse head banner of my father.

I had visited the city several times when I had been a boy and remembered that there had always been a great deal of building work being undertaken during each visit. The city itself was three thousand years old and had been the capital of the ancient Assyrian Empire eight hundred years ago. It had been besieged and destroyed several times since then and it was only during the rule of my father’s father, King Sames, that Assur’s defences were significantly strengthened. It was now the administrative centre of eastern Hatra.

I rode with Orodes, Domitus, Byrd and Malik through the Tabira Gate to visit the governor of the city and the man who held the east of the kingdom for my father, Herneus. In the times of the Persian Empire he would have been titled satrap, as he had both civil and military authority over a large area and controlled the many brick-built forts dotted along the western bank of the Tigris that we had passed on our journey south. Most had been empty because Herneus had summoned their tiny garrisons to Assur.

The northern quarter of the city housed the religious district, with temples devoted to Anu, Ishtar and Shamash. The governor’s palace was located next to the temple area and the garrison’s barracks, stables and armouries occupied the northeastern part of the city. The southern area of Assur was where the general population lived: a sprawling collection of one- and two-storey homes, markets, businesses, workshops, brothels, stables, animal pens and shops arranged along streets that had been constructed in a haphazard fashion. It really was a city of two halves: order, power and serenity in the north; chaos, poverty and over-crowding in the south.

At the gates we were met by a mounted party from the city garrison, soldiers dressed in white shirts and leggings armed with spears and swords and carrying round wooden shields covered with leather painted red and sporting a white horse head emblem. They escorted us to the governor’s palace, a single-storey rectangular building arranged around two courtyards. The palace was surrounded by a high stonewall that had round towers at each corner and along its length, with an impressive three-storey gatehouse that gave access to the compound. Our horses were taken from us and then a steward escorted us up the palace steps and into the large reception hall. Two guards tried to bar the way of Byrd and Malik, mistaking their black robes and untidy appearance for unwelcome guests.

‘They are with me,’ I ordered and the guards went back to their stations.

The hall had a high vaulted ceiling decorated with paintings depicting Parthian horsemen defeating eastern nomads. I took that to be a good omen. The walls were tiled blue and yellow with marble statues positioned in alcoves. We walked through the hall into the first courtyard, around which were the offices of city officials. Across the courtyard was the entrance to the royal hall where the governor held court, though on this occasion he sat on the right of my father who occupied the throne on the dais, Vistaspa seated to his left. City administrators, priests and officers of the garrison stood to one side, whilst officers of the royal bodyguard were grouped behind my father on the dais.

Beyond this royal hall lay the palace’s second courtyard, surrounded by the private chambers of the governor, his family and guests.

Herneus and Vistaspa stood up when we entered for I too was a king. The assembly bowed their heads as Vistaspa gave up his seat for me. My father ordered another one brought for Orodes as befitting his position as a prince of the empire. The officers of my father’s bodyguard shot disparaging looks at Malik and Byrd as my two friends and Domitus went to stand behind my chair.

My father began proceedings. ‘Now that the army of Dura has arrived we can plan our strategy regarding how to defeat the army that approaches our borders. Lord Herneus, I believe that you have received information as to its whereabouts and size.’

Herneus bowed his head, stood in front of the dais and cleared his throat. He was a man of medium height with a round face and a head that was completely bald. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Despite the fact that he was extremely rich and powerful, having a mansion in the city and another in Hatra itself, he was dressed in a simple long-sleeved beige shirt, brown leggings, boots and a leather cuirass.

‘Thank you, majesty,’ he replied in a deep voice. ‘The latest intelligence I have received is that the enemy is fifty miles to the east and advancing at a rate of around fifteen miles a day.’

‘A somewhat tardy advance,’ commented my father.

‘Indeed, majesty,’ continued Herneus. ‘The size of the enemy host means that it has to forage far and wide for provisions.’

‘And what size is it?’ I asked.

‘Upwards of one hundred thousand men, majesty.’

‘One hundred thousand?’ said Domitus loudly. ‘Are you sure your scouts can count?’

Byrd and Malik laughed; the officers of my father’s bodyguard scowled at them.

Herneus, to his credit, did not flinch but replied calmly.

‘Quite sure. We have been receiving reports on a daily basis.’

‘Against which we can muster how many?’ I asked.

‘I have brought twelve thousand horse archers and fifteen hundred cataphracts,’ said my father, ‘and you, Herneus?’

‘I and the other lords have raised five thousand horse archers from our estates, majesty, plus another five hundred taken from the outlying forts.’

‘And what of the city garrison?’ I enquired.

‘Five hundred spearmen, majesty,’ replied Herneus, ‘of little use against horsemen, I fear.’

‘With Dura’s army,’ said Domitus, ‘our combined forces are still outnumbered over three to one.’

‘Long odds,’ remarked Byrd, prompting murmurs of discontent from among my father’s officers.

‘Silence,’ he commanded.

‘Prince Gafarn could bring his horsemen from Hatra, lord,’ suggested Vistaspa. ‘That would give us an additional fifty thousand men at least.’

My father thought for a moment. ‘And leave Hatra virtually undefended? No. I need Gafarn and his men to remain in the city. If Babylon falls then Narses and Mithridates will flood across my southern border. Who will stop them if all my soldiers are at Assur?’

The city officials, priests and officers of the garrison looked at each other, concern and fear etched on their faces.

‘Well,’ announced Domitus loudly, ‘if you want to beat such a large army with so few men you will have to make his numbers count against him.’

‘And how do we do that, Roman?’ asked my father, intrigued.

Domitus winked at me and smiled at him. ‘With a bit of bait and a bit more luck.’

After the meeting I rode with Herneus and my companions to the ford of Makhmur that lay immediately south of the city. Though there was a stone bridge over the Tigris near the city’s South Gate, the river to the south of the bridge was shallow. Indeed, we rode our horses into the waters and walked them to the midpoint of the river where it was around three hundred paces wide at this spot. The current was very slow.

‘As you can see,’ said Herneus, the water lapping round his horse’s body, ‘it is about five feet deep, shallow enough to allow men on foot to cross let alone horsemen.’

Domitus looked back at the western riverbank that rose up from the water a paltry four feet. ‘The river is this shallow for how far?’

‘About four miles,’ replied Herneus. ‘In the spring it is deeper and faster flowing, but in the summer it is as you see it now. It will be no barrier to an army. It can even be forded to the north of the city, though the banks are steeper than here.’

Domitus nodded and then looked south.

‘What are you thinking?’ I asked him.

‘We line up the legions over there, a short distance from the riverbank, stretching south of the city for around a mile. That should be a nice tempting target for them.’

‘They will be able to sweep round your flanks,’ I said.

‘Not if your horsemen stand on our right flank,’ he said.

We rode back to the city and went straight to the palace to consult with my father. According to Herneus’ intelligence we had two days in which to prepare our battle plan, which Domitus estimated was just enough time to place the stakes we had brought from the north. Herneus provided the city garrison to assist the legionaries, Domitus stating undiplomatically that it was the least they could do as they would be useless when it came to the actual fighting. So the stakes were transported to south of the city and dumped on the western riverbank. They were hammered into the dry ground at an angle of forty-five degrees pointing towards the river, after which each one was sharpened to a point. The stakes were arranged in three rows, each one spaced every four feet to a length of a mile – four thousand stakes in total. They were positioned a hundred paces from the water’s edge and presented a fearsome obstacle.

When the work was finished we both stood and admired the newly planted forest of stakes.

‘Tomorrow the first line will stand in front of them to hide them from the enemy,’ said Domitus. ‘Then they will retire just before the horsemen hit them. Should give them a nasty surprise.’

‘They will shower you with arrows first,’ I said, ‘to soften you up before they send in the heavy horsemen.’

‘We’ve been under arrows before. You just make sure you hold them on our flanks. If they get behind us we’re finished.’

He looked across the river towards the Plain of Makhmur.

‘Keeping a hundred thousand men and their horses provisioned is a mighty undertaking.’

I shook my head. ‘Many of them will be poorly equipped and trained, and the condition of their mounts will leave a lot to be desired after such a long journey. The kings and their lords will have taken priority when it comes to supplies, the rest will have had to scavenge for food and fodder.’

‘That will make them all the more desperate to capture Assur,’ said Domitus.

I nodded my head. ‘No doubt they have looted all the villages along their route in Media. I hope the inhabitants had time to bury their possessions and reach the nearest walled town.’

I knew that was a forlorn hope. Fast-moving horsemen could raid and torch villages before their inhabitants knew what was happening. Media would have felt the full wrath of the invading army. My father was right: it had to be stopped here, at the border.