David Wishart - Parthian Shot

‘He’s hardly a boy,’ I said.

I’d gone too far this time: Phraates’s smile disappeared. ‘Corvinus,’ he said, ‘I’ve spoken enough about Damon. You will drop the subject. Now, please.’

Yeah, well; even a Great King’s human and has his weak points. And I’d got what I wanted in any case. I moved on. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s talk about Zariadres’s murder. You think it’s linked to the attack on your litter?’

The hesitation was fractional, but it was there all the same. ‘Probably,’ he said. ‘Almost certainly. But the “how” is another matter entirely.’

‘Yeah. That’s what I want to ask you about. You have any theories?’

‘No. Zariadres was a representative, not a principal, as are the other ambassadors. His death makes no difference at all, politically. At most, it’s an embarrassment to Rome, but since the embassy is by its nature unofficial even that’s a minor issue.’

Uh-huh; that was more or less what Vitellius had said. Still, the political angle was too obvious a one to be dismissed out of hand. ‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Even so, do you mind if we work it through?’

‘Not at all. Carry on.’

‘Okay. There are two possibilities I can see. The first and simplest, because it comes with its own motive, is that the guy was killed by an agent of Artabanus.’

Phraates leaned back in his chair. ‘Indeed.’

‘One problem with that is that Isidorus says there are no Parthian agents in Rome. Me, I’m pretty sceptical on that point, but then he’s the expert and we’ll take it as fact until we know otherwise.’ I paused, but Phraates’s expression stayed bland. ‘The other problem’s more serious. Zariadres was either killed by someone already in the house or his murderer was let in to do the job. Whichever way you play it, someone on the inside was involved. Fine. So we put all that together, the positive and the negative. The logical conclusion is that the embassy brought Artabanus’s agent with them.’

Silence. Total silence. I really had Phraates’s attention now.

Phraates had gone very still. You could’ve heard an ant cough.

‘You think, Corvinus,’ he said slowly, finally, ‘that one of the embassy themselves is a traitor. A secret supporter of Artabanus.’

‘It’s one possibility, sure. And like I say, given the first premise, it’s the simplest solution.’

‘Why not one of the servants?’

‘Again it’s possible. Me, I’d assume all the servants had been carefully vetted at the start, but then I’m no Parthian. What do you think?’

‘Oh, I agree. Absolutely.’ The guy wasn’t smiling now, and the hardness — the concentration — was back in spades. I could see how he’d make a king. ‘In fact, I can guarantee it. The servants are all the personal property of the several ambassadors, and every one has proved his or her loyalty beyond question over many years. Loyalty to a master is important in Parthia, even more so than it is here. A good slave will literally die before he betrays his master. No, you can discount the servants. The masters are far more likely. So. Who is it to be?’

‘I’d be guessing. I don’t know them well enough, I don’t know their pasts and I don’t know what makes them tick. That’s where you come in.’

‘All right. Let’s take them one by one. Osroes.’

Yeah, that bastard made a logical starting-point, and it was interesting that Phraates had plumped for him first as well. ‘He hated Zariadres. Or maybe that’s putting it too strongly.’

‘Perhaps a little strongly, but not by much. On the other hand, hatred isn’t too strong a term to describe his feelings for Artabanus. Osroes is a Magian, a zealot. When he hates, he hates. Artabanus, to him, is the arch-hypocrite. He pays lip-service to Zoroastrian beliefs but only for political reasons. He is given over completely to what Osroes would call the Lie. Osroes may dislike me as being too Romanised, but at least I’m no hypocrite, I don’t pretend to be a practising Zoroastrian myself. Artabanus does, and that is what damns him in Osroes’s eyes. Literally. Most important of all, Osroes lives up to his own principles. He would no more work for Artabanus, especially if it entailed prolonged deceit, than he would spit into an open fire.’

Well, I’d asked. And if Phraates was that certain then there wasn’t much more to be said. ‘Okay. Callion.’

‘Callion is Greek. His family is one of the oldest in Seleucia, and to him his city, his family and his Greek roots are the most important things in life. Artabanus is currently engaged in the destruction of Greek influence and culture within his borders. If I were made Great King, I would reverse Artabanus’s policies, or at least aim for a working balance. Callion, therefore, supports me absolutely, because I’m the only person who can rescue Greek civilisation east of the Euphrates from extinction without bloodshed.’

Shit; I was getting a bad feeling about this. ‘Peucestas,’ I said.

‘You know, I think, Peucestas’s story, in outline, at least. His family is Mihran, from Rhagae. They — and he — supported my brother’s attempt on the kingship twenty-five years ago. After his defeat Artabanus had Peucestas’s immediate family put to death. How do you think Peucestas views Artabanus? Generously enough to act as his agent in Rome?’

The silence lengthened. ‘It has to be one of them,’ I said.

‘Yes. If the theory holds. So which?’

Bugger. ‘You like to choose? Pick a name?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I would not. You said you had another theory. Perhaps we should hear that.’

I took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to like this one, I knew that now. ‘Yeah. Okay. The problem with that one is that it doesn’t explain the open door; in fact, it doesn’t make much sense all round. Sure, we don’t know for absolute certain if the door was open, but after what you said about Osroes I’m willing to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, so I’ll take it as fact.’

‘Go on.’

‘Let’s say someone — call him X — doesn’t want you going to Parthia as Great King.’

‘I assume you don’t mean Artabanus? Or one of his agents?’

‘No.’

‘Then perhaps we should waive anonymity and call him Tiridates.’

‘Ah..right. Yeah, that was the general idea. With an option on his Iberian friend providing the brains.’

Phraates laughed. ‘Use both of them if you like. Separately or together. I don’t see anything particularly fanciful in the theory so far. Although it may run into difficulties later.’

‘Oh, I’m fully aware of that, believe me.’ I took a swallow of wine. ‘Okay. So first Tiridates — or whoever — tries outright assassination, the attack on your litter. The problem there is once he’s made his move the guy’s stymied because you’re alert now and you’re not going to give him a second chance.’ Phraates put the tips of his fingers together against his lips. I waited, but he didn’t comment. ‘So. He has to find another way of screwing you. If he can’t kill you he might be able to do something from the other side. You said yourself, the only edge you have over him is that you’ve got the vote of the anti-Artabanus faction in Parthia and the Roman government. Fine. So the first step is to change the odds there. Putting Zariadres out of the way leaves Osroes as the embassy’s dominant voice, and Osroes isn’t too keen on you to start with. He hates Artabanus, sure, but he doesn’t actually favour you as such. True?’

Phraates lowered his hands. ‘Corvinus, I’m sorry to interrupt but we’ve been over this already. Zariadres’s death has had and will have no effect on the negotiations. The embassy aren’t empowered to choose between Tiridates and myself; their instructions were to ask for me specifically.’