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Authors: Peter Darman

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BOOK: The Parthian
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I found Godarz and Gafarn sitting on the ground with the other members of the reserve, close by to their tethered horses. My anger rose as I thought of what might have happened to Gallia, and then evaporated as the men jumped to their feet and started to cheer me wildly. Gafarn raced over as I handed the women back their reins and then dismounted.

‘Victory, highness,’ he beamed.

‘A great day,’ added Godarz, who shook my hand.

Others gathered round me and offered their hands. Their faces were full of admiration and joy, and I had to admit that I was proud to be their leader. Even though they themselves had not fought, they had obeyed their orders and stayed where they were. At least most of them did. When the commotion had died down I pulled Godarz and Gafarn aside and asked them to explain the presence of Praxima and Gallia on the battlefield.

‘They must have worked it out beforehand, highness,’ said Gafarn.

Godarz continued. ‘Diana came to us both and said she felt unwell, then promptly fainted. So we attended to her and in the excitement Gallia and Praxima slipped away. It was a while before we even noticed that they had gone. They’re a sly pair and no mistake.’

‘Indeed,’ I said. There was little point in reprimanding them, and any case it would have been mean-spirited to do so in such propitious circumstances. I thanked them both and then left them to find the truants. I found them, plus Diana, congratulating each other as they were taking the saddles off their horses by some water troughs. Gallia had taken off her helmet and unplaited her hair. She looked as alluring as ever.

‘I congratulate you, ladies, on your stratagem,’ I said, ‘though perhaps next time you might like to obey orders like the rest of my horsemen.’

‘We are not standing idly by when the Romans are so close,’ said Gallia with fire in her eyes.

‘We have won a great victory, so let us give thanks for that. As for you two, all I am asking is that you obey orders. You can’t have an army without discipline.’

‘You are a great leader of horsemen, lord,’ said Praxima, out of the blue, ‘and we are proud to serve with you.’ She then knelt and bowed her head.

Her flattery caught me at a disadvantage and I felt myself blushing.

‘Well, I, er. I have to report to Spartacus,’ I stammered, beating a hasty retreat. Once again they had outwitted me. Perhaps I ought to make them officers. I dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Remus was blown, so I left him with Godarz and the attendants, along with my helmet, cloak and bow and borrowed his horse to find Spartacus. The adrenalin rush of combat was leaving me now and my limbs began to ache, though they did not shake. I rode through groups of soldiers making their way back towards their tents. It was a mark of the discipline that had been instilled in the army that they were still in their centuries, albeit the ranks looked a little ragged. Some were bandaged, other had cuts to the face and head, but most seemed to be unhurt and all were in good spirits. I found Castus with his Germans and called after him. I caught up with him, dismounted and we embraced. He had a cut over his right eye.

He slapped me hard on the shoulder. ‘Not a scratch on you. Did you see any fighting?’

‘Not as much as you, obviously,’ I said.

‘Some bastard Roman tried to shove his sword through my eye but I skewered him first. It was bloody work at first, then they broke and suddenly I was running as fast as a hare trying to catch the bastards. They dropped their weapons and ran. Amazing.’ I think some of my boys are still running after them. I left Cannicus to sort them out and bring them back in. Thought I should report to Spartacus, if he’s here that is.’

Behind us I could hear the distinctive growl of Akmon. ‘Pick your feet up. Just because you’ve enjoyed a bit of butchery doesn’t mean you can slouch.’

We moved aside as he passed, leading a large column of his Thracians that had been chasing after the fleeing Romans. Behind him, being carried on a litter, was the body of a dead Roman.

‘Still alive, then,’ he called to us. ‘You two might want to have a look at this.’

‘Where is Spartacus?’ I asked.

‘In his tent, being patched up by his woman, I suppose.’

‘He is hurt?’ asked Castus, in alarm.

‘Nothing serious,’ replied Akmon.

Later, in camp, we found Claudia stitching Spartacus’ left arm with a needle and twine, the big Thracian sat in a chair drinking wine as she did so. He seemed annoyed rather than in pain. He nodded to myself and Castus as we entered, then frowned as the litter carrying the dead Roman was brought in and placed on the floor in front of him.

‘I don’t want dead bodies in my tent,’ said Claudia.

‘Pardon, lady,’ said Akmon, ‘but this dead body is important.’

‘Who is it?’ asked Spartacus.

Akmon handed Spartacus a scroll covered in blood. ‘We found him face down with an arrow in his back and this in the saddlebag of his horse. Says his name is Consul Publius Varinius, charged by the people and senate of Rome to destroy the slave rebellion.’

Spartacus got out of his chair and examined the body, which was laid face down on the litter.

‘That’s my arrow, I think,’ I said.

‘Well,’ smiled Spartacus, ‘it would appear that Pacorus has killed a consul.’

‘What’s a consul?’ I said.

‘Like a king,’ replied Spartacus.

‘They’ll not take this lightly,’ sniffed Akmon.

‘No indeed,’ said Spartacus, straightening and wincing in pain. ‘Cut the head off and stick it on a pole a mile down the road.’

‘Can you take it away now,’ said Claudia, ‘it’s disgusting.’

Spartacus signalled for the bearers to haul it away, then sat back down and held his left arm.

‘Getting slow in your old age?’ said Akmon.

‘I’ll never be as slow as you, Akmon. There’s wine on the table.’

We greeted Claudia and helped ourselves to the drink.

‘Castus, pass my thanks on to your men,’ said Spartacus, ‘they did well today.’

‘Thank you, lord.’

‘Yours too, Pacorus,’ he added, ‘though I thought that volley of arrows you fired before we charged was going to land on us. I would have preferred some warning’

‘My men now how to shoot, lord,’ I said.

‘Anyhow, Crixus and his men are still chasing the Romans, I believe. Tomorrow there will be a council of war. There is much to do. Do we have any idea of casualties?’

‘Most of my men are still pursuing Romans,’ I said, ‘but I believe we suffered few losses.’

‘Cannicus is taking a count of my men now,’ said Castus.

‘One thing’s for sure’ added Akmon, ‘the Romans have suffered more than us.’

Indeed they had. Nergal and Burebista came in three hours later, to rapturous applause from the camp. The men’s horses were lathered in sweat and some had wounds. I ordered that they be attended to immediately. Nergal’s hair was matted with sweat and grime and his face was dirty, but he was beaming with pleasure as he told me of his pursuit of the Romans and the accompanying slaughter. He threw a Roman standard, a pole with a square red flag near the top, at my feet, as did Burebista.

‘We found these lying on the ground, highness,’ said Nergal.

‘You have both done well, this is your victory,’ I replied. ‘Get your horses seen to and then get some food inside you. Then you can both take these standards to Spartacus, with my compliments.’

Nergal beamed and Burebista reached over and slapped him on the back. There is nothing more infectious as victory.

Our own losses amounted to five dead and thirty wounded, none seriously. All the dead were brought back to camp and cremated that night on a huge pyre, the flames lancing high into the darkness. All the camp gathered to pay their respects and I said a silent prayer to Shamash for bringing us victory. I stood next to Gallia and watched the bodies of our comrades being consumed by fire. She had combed her hair and changed into a loose-fitting green tunic and brown leggings. Praxima and Diana had likewise changed and no longer looked like women warriors, rather examples of feminine beauty. Diana stood between Gallia and Gafarn, Praxima, her arms around Nergal’s waist, next to Gallia.

‘That could have been you,’ I whispered into Gallia’s ear as we watched the flames.

‘Or you,’ she hissed.

‘It’s my task to fight, not yours.’

‘You are not mine to command,’ she said.

‘I do not command. I ask.’

The timber crackled as the flames ate away at it, spewing cinders into the sky.

‘And I ask you for the right to fight at your side.’ She turned to look at me, her eyes pleading and her voice seductive. ‘You would not deny me that right, would you? We are friends, are we not?’

I knew I would never win this argument, so I told her that we would discuss it at another time. Despite my aches and pains I could not sleep that night, so in the early hours I dressed and walked out of the camp, beyond where the guards were pacing to where the battle had taken place. There was silence now, for those who had been detailed to collect our wounded and kill any injured Romans they found, had finished their tasks. Better a quick death from a slit throat than being tortured by Crixus’ Gauls, I thought. The dead would be stripped tomorrow and the weapons of the Roman army collected. It should be a rich haul, and would go a long way to fully equipping our army.

I don’t know how long I walked for, but I suddenly became aware that it was cold. The clouds had departed to leave a clear, moonlit night. I gathered my cloak around me and then saw a solitary figure standing like a statue ahead. I made sure I had attached my sword before I walked towards him. As I drew closer I recognised the strong profile and board shoulders of Spartacus.

‘Lord?’

As fast as lightning he turned and drew his sword to face me, then relaxed as he saw who it was.

‘Couldn’t sleep either, eh?’

‘No, lord. How is your arm?’

‘It’s just a scratch.’

He replaced his sword in its scabbard, and then turned to stare into the distance once more.

‘Hard to believe there was a battle here. It’s so quiet.’

I looked at the corpses heaped on the ground as far as the eye could see.

‘A grim harvest,’ I mused.

He smiled. ‘This is nothing compared to what is coming. Until now the Romans thought that they were dealing with a few ill-armed slaves. But after today they know that they have a real war on their hands. From this point on they will be hell-bent on avenging the gross insult we have dealt them. When news reaches Rome of their defeat they will send a new army, and it will be larger and better led.’

‘Then we will need a bigger army,’ I said.

‘Indeed we shall,’ he sighed and turned to walk back to camp. ‘Come on, let’s have some warm wine. How’s Gallia and Diana?’

‘Despite my orders, Gallia rode into battle.’

Spartacus laughed out loud. ‘She’s feisty, that one.’

‘She shot a Roman centurion and killed another legionary with her bow.’

‘She’ll want to fight again, now she’s got a taste for it.’

‘That is what I’m afraid of,’ I said.

‘In this war, Pacorus, every man and woman with us is fighting for their life. The Romans will make no distinction between the sexes if we lose. They nail women to crosses as well as men, children too for that matter. So let her fight if she so chooses.’

I remained unconvinced but held my tongue.

‘Oh, I meant to tell you,’ said Spartacus. ‘Oenomaus was killed today,
pilum
through his throat. So that’s one less Gaul for you to worry about.’

‘Good, that only leaves about five thousand. And Crixus?’

‘It will take more than a few Romans to kill him. I heard about your little spat. I don’t want you two squaring up to each other again. That’s an order.’

‘Yes, lord, but you had better tell him that.’

‘I will.’ He looked towards the east. ‘Dawn’s breaking. Should be a nice day.’

Chapter 9

W
hen it was light parties were sent out to strip the Roman dead of their armour and weapons. Most had thrown away their shields and swords when they had attempted to flee, so it took a considerable amount of time to trawl the plateau for weapons and equipment. I sent Nergal and Burebista with five hundred horse to scout the area up to and beyond Forum Annii for anything that could be of use to the army, while I attended a council of war. I took Godarz with me, as it was fitting that he should be accorded the proper rank due to his age and experience. I told him this on the way to the meeting but it meant little to him. He was a man who was more concerned with the here and now rather than theoretical musings.

The battlefield was a sea of men and some women pulling mail shirts off corpses and piling them onto carts, while on other carts were placed sandals, belts, shields, swords, daggers and
pila
. The latter was a curious item of weaponry, as it consisted of a long wooden handle onto which was fitted a thin iron shaft. The shaft bends upon impact with a shield and thus cannot be thrown back. Quite extraordinary. Godarz assured me that bent
pila
could be straightened for re-use, but I didn’t see the point.

The atmosphere at the meeting was relaxed and cheerful, and in the afterglow of victory even Crixus was in a good mood, and for the moment seemed to have forgotten about our mutual animosity. His head was still bandaged, but the wound seemed to concern him not and he made a point of slapping everyone on the back as they entered, though not me, merely nodding his head when Godarz and I arrived. I did embrace Claudia, though, as I liked her greatly.

‘How are my girls?’ she asked me.

‘Excellent, lady. Gallia and Diana have a new friend,’ I replied.

‘So I hear. I also hear that you don’t approve of her.’

‘Perhaps I was being unkind. She makes Nergal happy so I should be grateful for that, at least.’

‘What don’t you approve of, that Praxima was a prostitute or that she slit a Roman’s throat?’ 

‘Both,’ I replied.

‘You don’t like the idea of women on the battlefield, or just a blonde-haired one in particular?’

‘I gave explicit orders that they should remain behind.’ I was aware that my cheeks were beginning to colour.

BOOK: The Parthian
11.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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