Parthian Vengeance (83 page)

Most of the horsemen we faced were spearmen wearing helmets, leather cuirasses and carrying round shields. They jabbed their spears at our bellies but from a near stationary position we could break the spear shafts with our axes and maces. A spear point glanced off the steel on my left arm. I brought my
spatha
down to splinter the shaft and then brought up the point to thrust it at the rider as he closed on me, the blade going through his larynx. Once more I had my mace in my left hand as I swung it against the side of a man’s helmet, the flange denting the metal and knocking him from his saddle.

Then the Amazons and Nergal’s archers were by our side, shooting arrows at the enemy who were now beginning to slowly fall back. I continued to slash and hack with my weapon and then saw a helmet with a red crest and a fleeting glimpse of a yellow banner. A spearman fell from his saddle under my blows. Then I was before Narses himself.

Dressed in an armoured cuirass covered in silver scales, he directed his horse straight at me and hurled himself from his saddle to grab me as we both tumbled to the ground. My sword was knocked from my hand though my mace’s leather strap was still wrapped round my left wrist as I lay winded on my back. Narses wore no scale armour so he was able to spring to his feet to stand over me, ready to plunge his sword into my chest. I rolled onto my left side as he missed and thrust the blade into the earth beside me, grabbed the handle of my mace and swung it to the right with all my strength. Narses emitted a roar of pain as a flange bit into his leg just above his right knee and he staggered back.

I used the mace to hoist myself onto my feet as he attacked me with a series of savage downward swinging cuts with his sword. One glanced off the side of my helmet to produce a ringing in my ears as I tried to fend him off. I was tiring now and several of his strikes managed to get through my defence, striking my shoulders, knocking off iron scales and biting deep into the hide underneath. I was breathing heavily, desperately trying to fill my lungs with air to alleviate the burning sensation in my chest.

There was blood showing on his right leg but it seemed to have no effect on him as he aimed a horizontal cut against my left shoulder that I stopped by holding my mace with both hands to deflect the blow. I was aware of nothing around me as I transferred the mace to my right hand and threw it at his face. He did not expect that as he ducked to avoid it and I ran at him with all my strength, knocking him to the ground and the sword out of his hand. I held his neck with my left hand and frantically punched his face with my fist, screaming insults as I did so. But he managed to grab his sword and rain blows against the side of my helmet with its pommel, finally knocking me aside.

He staggered unsteadily to his feet, dazed, and with difficulty grasped his sword with both hands to drive it into my prostrate body before him, as I grabbed my own sword lying between his feet and thrust it upwards into his groin.

He winced fiercely, his teeth locked together as I took what seemed like an eternity to haul myself to me feet. Narses dropped his sword and looked at me pitifully, but there was no pity in me this day. I ran my
spatha
through his cuirass and into his belly, gripping it with both hands as I did so.

‘That is for my father.’

I yanked the blade free and he fell to his knees, still staring at me with disbelieving eyes, blood gushing from between his legs. I reached forward and ripped the helmet off his head, then brought my blade down on his head, splitting his skull.

‘And that is for Farhad.’

He pitched forward to lie face down on the ground. I stood over him, clasped the hilt of my sword with both hands and rammed it down hard, driving it through his body.

‘And that is for Vardan.’

I held up my arms and screamed in triumph and then saw the figure of Mithridates gallop away with a score or more of other horsemen behind him. I pointed at him.

‘Kill him, kill him. Will someone kill him?’

But no one heard me as I stood and watched the snake ride away and then disappear from view.

Vagharsh was the first to arrive where I stood like a guard dog watching over an old bone, escorted by the men of my first company of cataphracts. He looked at the dead body.

‘Who is that?’

‘King Narses, Vagharsh. He is finally dead.’

Vagharsh nodded and then looked at the scene of carnage all around. ‘Him and a lot of others.’

I was suddenly afraid for Gallia. ‘Where is the queen?’

‘She is safe,’ he assured me. ‘She is with the kings.’

He nudged his horse over to where Remus had been calmly standing next to Narses’ horse and brought him to me, then assisted me into the saddle. I ordered horsemen to mount a guard over the body of Narses to ensure it was not taken away and then rode to join my wife.

When I found her she was with Nergal, Atrax and Gafarn as Vagharsh had said, and after embracing her and the others I told them that Narses was dead. I also informed them that I had seen Mithridates flee, back to Susa I assumed.

The battle was now petering out. The phalanx of enemy guards had been decimated by arrow fire and the survivors had given themselves up after Narses’ relief charge had failed. A courier brought news from Orodes that he had destroyed the enemy’s horse and foot archers and had linked up with Vagises, while the legions, despite being under a hail of arrows and sling shots from the start of the fighting, had managed to inch their way forward into and through the date palm grove, forcing enemy spearmen back as they did so, until the remnants of the latter had simply dissolved as the survivors fled south.

The Battle of Susa was over.

Chapter 19

There was no pursuit, no triumphal gatherings or after-battle boasting and bravado. Both men and beasts were at the limits of their endurance, having expended their last reserves of energy. We forgot that we had won a great victory as all our attention was diverted to the welfare of our horses. Dehydrated, sweating in the heat and many encased in scale armour, they were in dire need of water and rest. Horse archers slid from saddles and collapsed onto the ground, totally exhausted, their horses stumbling and wandering round them in a similar state.

I slid off Remus’ back and called to Gallia. ‘Help me with his armour.’

I felt queasy and lethargic myself now that Alcaeus’ magic concoction was wearing off and found unbuckling the straps that held his armour in place difficult.

Gallia walked over and assisted me as I felt the last reserves of strength drain from my body. I could not focus my eyes and my breathing was laboured.

‘You rest,’ she said. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

Praxima came over to assist her friend heave the heavy hide suit off Remus’ back and onto the ground. He was breathing heavily and matted in sweat. Around us the cataphracts were also stripping their horses of their armour before discarding their own hide suits.

I unfastened my leg and arm armour and then with difficulty pulled my scale armour suit over my head and dumped it on the ground. My arms felt like lead and I could barely stand. I glance over to Orodes and Gafarn who were in a similar state.

‘He needs walking to the river,’ I said to Gallia weakly.

She also looked drained, no doubt suffering similar effects.

‘I will take him, lord,’ said Praxima, ‘have no fear.’

‘Thank you Praxima.’

They were the last words I remember saying before passing out.

I awoke in a cot in the hospital section of the camp, the first thing I saw being the crystal clear blue sky above me in the gaps between the canvas roof and then my wife’s pure blue eyes gazing down at me.

‘You are awake, then?’

‘What time is it?’

‘Mid-afternoon,’ she said.

I was confused. ‘That cannot be. How did I get here in so short space of time.’ I tried to rise. ‘How is Remus? He was exhausted.’

She placed a hand on my shoulder. ‘The battle was yesterday, Pacorus, and you have been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours. And unlike you, Remus is fine.’

Alcaeus appeared beside her.

‘Ah, so Hypnos grew tired of your company and sent you back to us, did he?’

‘Who’s Hypnos?’

He feigned surprise. ‘The Greek god of sleep, of course. How are you feeling?’

‘Drained.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, Ma-huang can do that. Still, kept you awake during the battle. Drink plenty of water, not wine, eat regularly and get plenty of rest and you will be fine.’

I looked at Gallia. ‘How is it that you suffered no ill affects?’

‘I did,’ she replied, ‘but unlike you I had not gone without sleep for three nights.’

After drinking copious amounts of water and eating some fruit I was strong enough to walk back to my tent, though not before I had visited the stables to ensure that Remus had recovered. Awnings had been erected over the temporary stables to provide shade for the horses and as I entered his stall he walked over to me and nuzzled his nose in my chest. I stroked his neck.

‘Good to see you, old friend. I was worried about you.’

‘He’s fine now, though when he was brought in yesterday he was done in.’

I recognised the coarse voice of Strabo behind me.

‘No riding him for at least a week. He’s not as young as he was despite what you think.’

He leered at Gallia and bowed his head at her.

‘Majesty.’

She frowned back as he stood beside me.

‘We lost five hundred horses yesterday to fatigue; their hearts just gave way.’ There was great sadness in his voice.

I was astounded. ‘That many?’

‘That is just Dura. The other kings must have lost more, to say nothing of the hundreds of camels that have also been slaughtered. It is a right mess that will take a while to sort out.’

‘Do you think you will lose any more horses,’ asked Gallia with concern.

Strabo faced her and stared at her breasts. ‘If all the fighting’s done then only a few. Those that are down probably won’t get up. But another battle will kill hundreds more, perhaps thousands.’

‘There will not be another battle,’ I reassured him.

Domitus had been right: there had been only one more fight left in the army. It had been a close run thing but we had triumphed, but at a heavy cost. In my state of exhaustion Domitus had handed over control of the camp to Alcaeus and Marcus who set about their new responsibilities with gusto. The first thing the former did was to organise burial details to scour the battlefield to search for Duran dead. The morning roll call after the battle had revealed the names of individuals who were missing from the ranks, and once it had been established that they were not lying in hospital, parties were despatched to find their bodies. It was a grim business but in Dura’s army every man deserved to have a proper cremation if humanly possible. And so thousands of men picked through the dead to retrieve their fallen comrades, who were then consigned to huge pyres that sprang up on the plain.

I gave orders that the body of Narses was to be dumped in the Karkheh, though not before the head was hacked off, taken south to Susa and then stuck on the end of a spear in front of the city walls. When word reached Orodes he immediately countermanded my desire, sending an officer of his bodyguard to explain to me that Narses deserved a cremation according to his high rank and that his men would take the body and deal with it. I was too drained to argue.

The ditch on the eastern and northern sides of the camp was filled with dead hill men whose corpses were already starting to rot and stink, and so Alcaeus ordered that the earth from the ramparts behind these sections of the ditch be used to cover the thousands of corpses. Thousands more dead hill men lay scattered on the ground around the camp so these had to be collected and cremated. 

Later that day, in the early evening, Orodes called an assembly of the kings to take stock of our situation. Alcaeus had suggested that we relocate the camp to the River Dez seven miles to the east and I had agreed. To be in such close proximity to huge numbers of dead men and animals was to invite pestilence. There was little point in winning a victory if our army was subsequently wiped out by plague.

‘It does not seem like a victory,’ remarked Orodes, black rings round his eyes and his face dirty and unshaven. He looked as though he had not slept for a week.

Gallia, Atrax, Surena, Viper and Gafarn also looked tired and drained, though Nergal and Praxima were both fresh faced. Orodes had also requested the presence of Marcus, Alcaeus and Domitus at the meeting.

‘The final victory, Orodes,’ I said.

Orodes smiled thinly at me and looked at Marcus. ‘And what is the cost of our victory?’

Marcus stood, cleared his throat and kept glancing at a parchment he held in his hand. ‘Well, sir, I have consulted with the other quartermasters and have arrived at the following totals. Of the foot soldiers, eight thousand Babylonians and a thousand legionaries were killed. Losses among the horsemen total fourteen hundred cataphracts and three hundred Babylonians killed and thirteen thousand horse archers slain.’

‘Thirteen thousand?’ exclaimed Surena with astonishment.

‘I am afraid so,’ remarked Marcus. ‘In addition, nearly four a half thousand squires were killed during the course of the battle. Finally, among the animals we have lost a combined total of eight thousand camels, ten thousand horses and four hundred mules.’

There was a stunned silence. Losses of twenty-eight thousand killed, to say nothing of the hundreds more with serious wounds and thousands carrying minor injuries, represented a staggering number. Domitus had already informed me that a thousand legionaries, three hundred cataphracts and six hundred horse archers of Dura’s army had perished in the fighting. Among these were seventeen Companions whose names would be carved on the memorial in the Citadel to add to the list that was steadily filling the granite tiles. Seven Amazons had also fallen.

‘What about enemy losses?’ asked Atrax.

Marcus picked up another parchment. ‘Well, sir, obviously we do not have access to the muster lists of the enemy. However, we have managed to carry out a rough calculation of the enemy’s losses based on the density of the dead in various parts of the battlefield combined with the area that the corpses cover, including the dead in and around the ditches surrounding the Duran camp. This equates to over eighty thousand killed.’