Parthian Vengeance (60 page)

Read Parthian Vengeance Online

Authors: Peter Darman

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

BOOK: Parthian Vengeance
2.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘How many men does Phriapatius have?’ I asked, turning to more practical matters.

‘Around ten thousand,’ answered Nergal.

‘A few less now,’ grinned Yasser. ‘Nergal wants to talk but I urged him to attack them. I can smell their fear from here. They are weak and should be slaughtered like lambs.’

I smiled thinly at him. I sometimes forgot that our Agraci allies were ruthless as well as cunning. They despised weakness and respected strength. Yasser did not become a lord by diplomacy and Haytham did not become a king of these fierce desert people by being merciful.

‘I think we shall hear what the Carmanians have to say before we put them to the sword,’ I said as Yasser screwed up his face at my words.

‘When words run out the conversation is carried on with weapons,’ he replied, holding a rack of lamb in his hand and tearing off a great strip of meat with his teeth. ‘It has always been so and always will be.’

He pointed at all three of us in turn.

‘You talk of peace but only when it suits you, and only from a position of strength. When you, Pacorus, were trapped in the desert before my king and your queen came to your aid, did you squeal like a little girl and ask for quarter? You did not. And you, Nergal, when the enemy invaded your lands did you lie down like a lamb and invite him to steal your kingdom? You are more like me than you like to think. Now that the enemy has retreated you wish to talk, but I know that you would both prefer war.’

There is an old road that runs from Uruk through Umma and across the Tigris to the city of Susa and thereafter to the east. From Uruk the road heads north into the Kingdom of Babylon and then into Hatra. It spans the Tigris between Umma and Susa by means of a multi-arched stone bridge that was built by Greek engineers after Alexander of Macedon had conquered the Persians over two hundred and fifty years ago. Ever since that time it had been maintained by engineers employed by the king of kings himself, for it was the only bridge south of the one at Seleucia and as such was strategically important. Though in summer the level of the Tigris drops considerably, below Seleucia the river is still at least twenty feet deep even in the hottest months and thus an army not in possession of the bridge would need a great number of rafts to get across the waterway.

Nergal had decided not to fight Phriapatius at the bridge but rather let him and his army cross into Mesene. Afterwards, as the Carmanians were advancing towards Umma, Nergal’s horsemen attacked and destroyed those enemy forces left behind to defend the bridge. Phriapatius was thus cut off and surrounded at the beginning of his campaign. He had negotiated a truce with Nergal soon after, one of the terms of which was that he and his army would be allowed withdraw to the east bank of the Tigris. We now dismounted and left our horses at the western end of the bridge and walked across the yellow flagstones that covered its surface.

The day was hot and airless, the waters of the Tigris below us brown and slow moving. I walked with Nergal, Praxima and Yasser as Nergal’s horse archers together with their Agraci allies lined the riverbank either side of the bridge. On the opposite bank the army of Carmania was drawn up to face them – a mass of cataphracts at the bridge, with horse archers and mounted spearmen carrying huge round shields on either side. Green dragon windsocks hung limply from their poles among the ranks of the horse archers but I knew that the symbol of Carmania was the golden peacock.

Four figures approached us to equal the number of our own party. As we got to within a hundred paces of each other both groups slowed as if by mutual consent, though more likely mutual suspicion. I rested my left hand on the hilt of my sword as I studied the king and his subordinates. Phriapatius himself walked a couple of paces in front of the others. He was a man of medium height with broad shoulders, a thick black beard, large nose and skin turned dark brown by the sun. He wore an open-faced bronze helmet on his head and a short-sleeved silver scale armour cuirass. Sculptured bronze plates bearing a peacock motif, the design also appearing on the sleeves of his red silk shirt, also protected his shoulders. His sword was held in a red scabbard decorated with gold and on his feet he wore a fine pair of red boots.

All of the men behind him also wore scale armour, two of them were about half the king’s age while the third carried his helmet in the crock of his arm and wore red leggings edged with gold and silver greaves. By the look of his weatherworn face I guessed he was one of the king’s senior commanders. We halted ten paces from each other.

‘Greetings King Phriapatius,’ said Nergal, holding out his hand to me. ‘This is King Pacorus of Dura.’

I bowed my head ever so slightly to Phriapatius, who nodded back.

‘I remember you from the Council of Kings at Esfahan all those years ago. You look older now and more severe.’

‘Constant war does that to a man, lord,’ I answered. ‘How can I be of assistance to you?’

‘Straight to the point, I like that. I can tell you have not spent any time at the grand court at Ctesiphon lately.’

‘I find the atmosphere there disagreeable, lord, and the man who occupies its throne even more distasteful.’

He smiled wryly. ‘So I have heard. Mithridates would pay me handsomely if I drew my sword and slew you right here, on this bridge.’

He made no movement to draw his sword but Nergal, Praxima and Yasser instinctively clasped the hilts of their swords; the three others behind Phriapatius did the same. I stood dead still and fixed his brown eyes with my own. He smiled.

‘But then that would make me a worthless murdering wretch like he is, not a responsible king who desires only to be back in his kingdom.’

The atmosphere, seconds before tense, relaxed as he waved his hand at his subordinates to show restraint.

‘I would talk with you in private, King Pacorus,’ he said.

I nodded to the others who withdrew a few paces behind me, while those with Phriapatius likewise retreated. The king walked over to the edge of the stone parapet and stared at the water below.

‘I thank you for coming here today,’ he said, still staring at the river. ‘I would not have blamed you if you had brought your army to do your talking.’

‘My army has done its talking in Hatra and Babylonia, lord. Even as we stand here and talk, Narses and Mithridates crawl back to Ctesiphon with their tails between their legs.’

He looked surprised. ‘Babylon has not fallen?’

‘No, lord,’ I answered, ‘though grievous damage has been inflicted upon Queen Axsen’s kingdom.’

He nodded to himself. ‘Narses promised an easy victory against Babylon. He also promised those who marched with him would be richly rewarded with lands and gold at the expense of those kingdoms who sided with you. The reality has turned out to be very different, it appears.’

‘You should also know that Cinnamus and Vologases were also turned back at Hatra’s border. I know; I was there.’

He stared once more at the meandering waters of the Tigris. ‘So the grand scheme begins to unfold.’

‘Next year,’ I announced, ‘Dura and others will be marching across the Tigris to put an end to Mithridates once and for all. I would be honoured to have the banner of Carmania fly next to mine.’

He turned his head and looked at me. ‘How many children do you have, Pacorus?’

‘Children?’

‘Yes, how many? One, two, a dozen?’

‘Three, lord, all daughters.’

He jerked his thumb to where his three subordinates stood facing Nergal, Praxima and Yasser. ‘The two young ones are my sons, Phanes and Peroz.’

‘They are fine young men, lord.’

‘I have two other sons, who are currently “guests” at Ctesiphon, and you will find that the other eastern kings of the empire also have their children being held hostage at Mithridates’ palace. If my banner flew beside yours, Pacorus, their heads would be adorning his palace walls.’

I shook my head. Many years ago Mithridates had been the ruler of Dura and had taken the sons of the kingdom’s lords hostage to ensure their fathers’ continued allegiance. Now he did the same to the kings of the eastern half of the empire.

‘He is a tyrant,’ I said.

Phriapatius laughed. ‘So are most king of kings, though I grant you this one seems blessed by particularly cruel traits. If it was a matter of dealing solely with Mithridates then I would give your offer serious consideration, but as long as he has my sons and his lord high general stands behind him then Carmania will not assist you.’

‘And will Carmania fight beside Mithridates and Narses next year?’ I asked.

‘Next year Carmania will answer Ctesiphon’s summons if you march against Mithridates.’ He picked up a small stone and flicked it into the river. ‘Though it will take a long time to muster its army and even longer to march it to Ctesiphon. By then affairs either way will most likely be settled.’

His strategy made sense. His kingdom sat in the southeast corner of the empire but was bordered by Persis to the northwest and Sakastan to the north. Narses ruled both kingdoms and could easily launch punitive raids against Carmania if he suspected Phriapatius of treachery.

‘I understand, lord,’ I said at length. ‘And what will you do now?’

‘Now, King Pacorus, out of strategic necessity I will be withdrawing my army back to its homeland.’

We watched the Carmanians pull back from the river and take the road to Susa, a long line of horsemen and camels carrying their tents and supplies. Phriapatius may have wanted to return to Carmania, a distance of some eight hundred miles, but Mithridates would retain his army nearer the Tigris in view of his own retreat from Babylon. As we watched the horsemen disappear on the horizon Yasser urged Nergal to ride across the bridge and attack the withdrawing Carmanians but he declined.

‘I have enough men to hold my own kingdom but not enough to invade Susiana, even with your men, Yasser.’

‘In any case,’ I added, ‘Phriapatius may be a useful ally when we cross the Tigris next year.’

Yasser threw up his hands in exasperation.

‘Next year? We could all be dead by then. The time to strike is now, Nergal. Take revenge on those who have sprinkled the earth of your kingdom with blood.’

‘They should pay for what they have done,’ agreed Praxima, always ready to act first and ask questions later.

‘My friends,’ I said, ‘they will pay, I promise. When we have taken Ctesiphon the royal treasury will be opened to pay compensation to those kingdoms that have suffered at the hands of Mithridates. I ask only that you show restraint now.’

Praxima shrugged and Yasser curled his lip in the direction of Phriapatius’ vanishing army, but Nergal thankfully saw sense.

‘We will accede to your wishes, Pacorus, but Mesene will want restitution for the outrages committed on its territory this year.’

I said my farewells to them at Umma and then travelled north to Babylon. As I had left my horse archers at Jem det Nasr, Nergal gave me a hundred of his men for an escort to Axsen’s capital. When we arrived five days later Dura’s army had already established its camp to the west of the city near the Marduk Gate. The scenes of devastation that I had seen on my journey to Mesene were repeated, with villages destroyed and irrigation systems wrecked. It would take Axsen years to repair the damage done to her kingdom.

In camp I discovered Vagises and his horse archers, who had returned from Jem det Nasr following the despatch of soldiers from Babylon to replace them. I called the senior officers to my tent to inform them of what had happened at the meeting with Phriapatius, though Orodes was not present.

‘He’s with the queen in the city,’ said Domitus.

‘He has taken up permanent residence in the palace,’ added Kronos.

‘Well, it will be his palace as well soon enough,’ I remarked. ‘Babylon will need a strong hand to guide it through the coming years.’

‘There isn’t much of a kingdom left,’ said Domitus. ‘Half of it has been carried off into slavery.’

‘We will get them back,’ I promised. ‘Mithridates and Narses will be held to account for what they have done.’

‘Turning to matters at hand,’ said Domitus, ‘it might be wise to get the army back to Dura. Near fourteen thousand soldiers, two thousand drivers, two thousand squires and thousands of horses, mules and camels will sap an already exhausted kingdom further.’

‘I would concur, but for a different reason,’ added Alcaeus. ‘I have visited the city and it is still thronged with refugees. It is amazing that plague has not broken out in the city already. I would advise that the army leaves the vicinity of the city for fear of any sickness spreading to your soldiers.’

‘Agreed,’ I said. ‘Make the preparations to march north immediately, Domitus. In the meantime I will visit the queen and her husband to be.’

Domitus gave me a century as an escort with Thumelicus in command. He and his men left their javelins in camp but retained their mail armour, helmets, swords and shields, and had been issued with wooden clubs in case of any difficulties they might encounter. The Marduk Gate was guarded by Babylonian spearmen and the gates themselves were open, though very few people were leaving the city. They had no doubt previously fled from the depravations of the enemy and were unwilling to leave the safety of the city without protection. The commander at the Marduk Gate, a tall, thin man in his thirties made gaunt by the siege, reported to me when we entered the city.

‘It is chaos, majesty. There are thousands of people camped on every street and in every doorway. Lord Mardonius is organising companies to escort people back to their villages but it will take an age.’

‘Did the garrison lose many men during the siege?’ I asked.

He shook his head. ‘The enemy attempted no assault against the city. Their favoured tactic was lobbing the severed heads of villagers over the walls to try and cower us into surrender. It struck fear into those who had fled from the countryside, though.’

‘What about your food supplies?’

‘We went on half-rations two months ago. Another two months and we would have had to start eating those lot,’ he nodded towards the crowd of filthy, starving refugees that had begun to gather around Thumelicus and his legionaries.

Other books

Joan Smith by Never Let Me Go
Clockwork Romance by Andy Mandela
The Ambitious Orphan by Amelia Price
Fooled by Randomness by Nassim Nicholas Taleb
The Year I Almost Drowned by Shannon McCrimmon
La metamorfosis by Franz Kafka
Everlasting Sin by J. S. Cooper
The Dragon's Champion by Sam Ferguson, Bob Kehl