Parthian Vengeance (65 page)

‘What does he know of his father and mother?’ asked Gallia.

‘We have always told him who his parents were,’ said Diana, ‘but he never knew them so it is difficult for him. He does not talk about them. I think he is embarrassed that they were slaves.’

‘He sees himself very much as a Parthian noble,’ said Gafarn, ‘which is what he is, I suppose. He seems to have inherited his father’s dislike of the Romans, though. Perhaps it is a Thracian trait.’

‘What news of the Romans, Pacorus?’ asked Nergal.

‘Crassus and Pompey and another are still dividing up Rome between them, I believe,’ I said. ‘So for the moment all is quiet to the west.’

‘It will not remain so, lord,’ said Praxima, her hair still red and wild. ‘The Romans are always hungry for more land.’

‘You are right, Praxima’ I agreed. ‘When they come I will send for you and we can fight them together.’

‘Like the old days, lord,’ she beamed.

‘Yes, like the old days.’

As we followed Axsen and Orodes through the entrance into the temple young Spartacus turned and nodded to me. I smiled and nodded back before he disappeared into the cavernous structure whose walls were covered with gold leaf.

It may have been large but inside there was hardly any space to spare that day. The temple’s vast numbers of clergy were in attendance in their robes, all gathered around their high priest as he chanted prayers before Axsen and Orodes. As well as priests the temple employed numerous musicians, singers, magicians, soothsayers, diviners, dream interpreters, astrologers and slaves. The air was pungent with the scent of frankincense as we were shown to the front of the congregation to witness the marriage ceremony, row upon row of the kingdom’s nobility behind us. To one side of the altar stood a score of priestesses from the Temple of Ishtar, scanty white tops barely covering their breasts and short white silk dresses that hung from their shapely hips to above their knees, their feet bare and their beautiful young bodies oiled and glistening. I saw Afrand standing beside Nabu in front of the altar, her long hair oiled and dark make-up around her eyes that gave her a feline appearance. Her top was even sparser than those worn by her priestesses, her ample breasts threatening to liberate themselves at any moment.

The temple was decorated with flowers, plants and candles and set upon the altar was a pot of burning incense and charcoal, a cup of water, a bowl holding grain and another containing oil.

As the singers ended their rather hypnotic hymn Nabu raised his hands to the ceiling and his voice resonated over the heads of the assembly.

‘Great Marduk, defender of Babylon and all things true and just in the world, we ask you to bless your servants, Orodes and Axsen, who have come to your temple to be joined in marriage in your great presence. May they be welcome.’

As one the priests and priestesses said ‘we welcome you both’.

Nabu then turned to the altar and held the palms of his hands over the incense, the cup of water and the vessels of grain and oil.

‘May these elements of water, fire, earth, air and ether be hallowed for this ceremony.’

He took the cup of water and dipped his middle finger in the liquid, then marked Orodes and Axsen on the forehead.

‘Through this water from a holy well may true vision awaken in each brow.’

Nabu turned and took the pot of incense from the altar and handed it to Orodes and Axsen.

‘Together you shall hold a pot of fire so you may use your will for good.’

Having both held the pot they returned it to Nabu.

‘How long does this go on for?’ whispered Gafarn. ‘My knees are starting to ache.’

Diana put a finger to her lips to still him.

Nabu, holding the pot of incense before him, nodded to Afrand who took the cup of water and offered it to Orodes and Axsen. They dipped a finger in the liquid and let a few drops fall into the pot of incense.

‘Water is now added to fire,’ said Nabu, ‘so that calm emotion can harmonise with will. Now let the element of air, symbol of the mind, combine with water and fire.’

Nabu handed the pot of incense back to the couple so that they could they hold it aloft and move it about to allow the smoke to circulate freely. Then they handed it back to Nabu.

‘Strength and abundance from the fruitful earth,’ continued Nabu, ‘must now be added through these grains of oats.’

Afrand took the pot of grain from the altar and held it out to Orodes and Axsen who each took some and then dropped them into the pot of incense.

‘Ether,’ said Nabu, ‘through this oil, blends water, earth, fire and air to find harmony.’

‘I’ll need some of that ether to revive me if this goes on much longer,’ muttered Gafarn. I had to stifle a laugh and Nergal was grinning.

‘Gafarn, be quiet,’ hissed Diana. My father turned round and frowned at us.

Nabu placed the pot of incense back on the altar and then he and Afrand placed their hands and feet against the bare feet and hands of Orodes and Axsen respectively. Axsen then laid her head on Orodes’ shoulder who now spoke.

‘I am the son of nobles. Silver and gold shall fill your lap. You shall be my wife and I shall be your husband, and like the fruit of a garden I shall give you offspring.’

The priests held out their hands and were handed pairs of sandals by their subordinates. Nabu and Afrand then slipped the sandals on the feet of the royal couple, kissing their insteps.

I smiled as my friends were married and then heard a woman’s voice. ‘The gods are with you, Pacorus. Your faith has been rewarded.’

I turned to Gallia. ‘What did you say?’ I whispered. She looked at me in confusion.

‘I did not say anything.’

I heard the voice again. ‘We are always with you, little one.’

I glanced left and right and saw only the faces of my friends looking forward. I looked up and then behind me but saw nothing untoward. Nabu and Afrand had now risen to their feet and the former faced the congregation and held his arms aloft. Once more his deep voice filled the temple.

‘May Orodes like a farmer till the fields.

May he like a good shepherd make the folds teem.

May there be vines under him, may there be barley under him.

In the river, may there be carp-floods.

In the fields, may there be late barley.

In the marshes, may fishes and birds chatter.

In the canebrake, may dry and fresh reeds grow.

In the high desert, may shrubs grow.

In the forests, may deer and wild goats multiply.

May the watered garden produce honey and wine.

In the vegetable furrows may the lettuce and the cress grow high.

In the palace may there be long life. 

May the Tigris and the Euphrates bring high-riding waters.

On their banks may the grass grow high, may they fill the meadows.

May holy Nisaba pile high the heaps of grain.

O, My Lady Axsen, May he spend long days in your holy lap!

Let all here assembled know that the Great Marduk has blessed this union and that Queen Axsen and King Orodes are united in marriage. All hail to Marduk.’

The congregation replied ‘hail’ and then the singers began reciting another melodious song to the accompaniment of flutes and harps. Nabu gestured to the newlyweds that they should now seek the blessing of Marduk and so they disappeared into the holy of holies before reappearing to make their way back to the palace and their new life. Thus began the reign of Orodes and Axsen of Babylon.

Afterwards we attended the great feast at the palace where jugglers, acrobats, contortionists and magicians entertained us while we ate. The palace kitchens had prepared enough food to feed the thousand people who sat at the tables in the vast banqueting hall. And outside the palace the generosity of Axsen allowed her people to feast on freshly grilled goat, mutton and pork from stalls set up on every street corner throughout the city. They could also purchase roasted beef if they wished, though as cattle were usually slaughtered at the end of their lives the meat could be rather stringy. The wedding guests feasted on gazelle, duck, fish and pigeon, all seasoned with herbs including coriander, cumin, fennel, fenugreek, mint, mustard, saffron and thyme. I had to smile when slaves offered porridge with dates on large silver platters, which had been considered a delicacy in Babylon for hundreds of years. The city’s nobility would be taken aback if they learned that porridge was the staple diet of my legionaries.

We sat on the top table with Axsen and Orodes, the newlyweds separating myself, Gallia, Nergal and Praxima from my father and mother, Atrax, Aliyeh, Gafarn, Diana and Adeleh, and thus preventing any uncomfortableness. Young Spartacus looking bored was at the end of the table next to Adeleh. Both Axsen and Orodes wore jewel-encrusted gold crowns on their heads and during the feast Mardonius presented Orodes with King Vardan’s old sword, the pommel of which was a gold
gauw
. I was pleased that he at last wore a crown for Orodes deserved to be a king and would be a just and noble ruler.

I began to relax and chat with Nergal and Praxima while Gallia giggled with Orodes and Axsen. She was very smug, believing with some justification that she had engineered their romance. Both wine and beer flowed in abundance and the level of noise increased in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol that was consumed. Wine had been almost unknown in Babylon until quite recently, the ancients preferring beer, but later generations had become acquainted with the agreeable produce of the grape following Alexander of Macedon’s destruction of the Persian Empire.

I thought about the words that I had heard in the temple, or what I thought I had heard. There was so much incense being burned that my senses had obviously been dulled. A slave filled my golden
rhyton
with more wine and I leaned forward to catch Orodes’ eye. I raised the vessel to him.

‘To you, my friend, may your rule be long and peaceful.’

He smiled and nodded, then frowned after something else caught his eye. I looked to where he was staring and saw a scruffy looking man at the entrance to the hall. Dressed in beige baggy leggings and a dirty purple tunic, he was a soldier of Babylon’s army and stood clutching something in his hand as one of the guards at the entrance pointed towards Orodes and Axsen, and then escorted him through the tables towards us. The loud chatter and laughter continued as the two threaded their way among now drunken nobles and their gaudily dressed wives and concubines. When he arrived at the top table he went down on one knee before Axsen and Orodes. My interested father leaned forward, as did Gafarn. Mardonius, seated on the table immediately in front of ours with his senior officers and their wives, stood up as Orodes commanded the soldier to rise.

‘Forgive me, highness,’ he said, looking left and right at us all at the table. ‘I have a message for King Pacorus of Dura.’

All eyes were now upon me as Orodes pointed to me.

‘You had better give it to him, then.’

The man walked over and bowed his head to me, keeping his eyes down as he extended his right hand and proffered the rolled parchment that had a wax seal. I stood and took it, going to break the seal but then stopping when I recognised that it bore the lion of Gordyene. What nonsense was this?

‘Is there something wrong, Pacorus?’ asked a now slightly concerned Orodes. My father also wore a look of curiosity. As I broke the seal I looked up and saw that all eyes in the hall were now upon me and all chatter had stopped. I unrolled the parchment and read the words, re-reading them as the significance of what they revealed dawned on me.

‘This cannot be,’ I said.

I read the words on the parchment again as Orodes and my father rose to their feet, followed by everyone else at the top table.

‘The gods are with you, Pacorus. Your faith has been rewarded.’

Still clutching the letter in my hand I left the dais and walked to stand before Orodes and Axsen, both of whom were wearing perplexed expressions. I knelt before them.

‘The gods have blessed your marriage, my friends, for they have sent me word that Gordyene is Parthian once more.’

I rose and smiled at them, then handed Orodes the letter. My father looked at my mother and then Gafarn, who raised an eyebrow at him.

‘What is this?’ asked my father.

‘This,’ I answered, pointing at the parchment that Orodes now handed to Axsen, ‘is a letter sent from Vanadzor, the capital of Gordyene.’

‘I know where it is,’ he replied.

‘But what you do not know, father, is that Surena now occupies the city and indeed the whole kingdom.’

‘Surena has liberated Gordyene?’ Orodes may have read the words but still dared not believe them.

‘It is true, my friend,’ I said, ‘I recognise the seal on the letter. There was no way Surena could have used it unless he had possession of the palace in Vanadzor.’

My mother smiled at me and then hugged my father, then began to cry. She and King Balas had been very close and his death had upset her deeply, compounded by the subsequent conquest of his kingdom by the Romans and their handing it over to the Armenians. Atrax was similarly delighted as it meant that his kingdom would no longer be subjected to Armenian raids. He held his wife’s face in his hands and kissed her on the lips, which somewhat mortified her. Around us a general hubbub arose as the news was conveyed to each table. Mardonius came up to me and bowed his head.

‘Hail to you, majesty, for making this possible.’

‘Yes, Pacorus,’ said Axsen, ‘hail to you for returning the Kingdom of Gordyene to the Parthian Empire.’

Orodes held his arms aloft and the commotion died away. He raised his drinking vessel.

‘To King Pacorus, liberator of Gordyene.’

The guests raised their cups and toasted me, then began banging their hands on the tables and shouting ‘Pacorus, Pacorus’, as they acclaimed me. I turned and raised my hands to them, allowing myself a moment to bask in the glory. Then I composed myself and remembered that I had done nothing. This was Surena’s victory. I raised my hands again to still to noise.

‘I thank you for your kindness but this triumph does not belong to me but to another and it would be unjust of me to steal his glory.’