Peter Darman - Parthian Vengeance

‘Get a doctor,’ I ordered.

Godarz was staring at the ceiling, a far-away look in his eyes. ‘She said she loved me. I do not understand.’

‘Don’t speak,’ said Gallia softly, ‘Alcaeus will be here soon.’

Godarz looked at her. ‘I loved her, you know.’

Her tears fell on his face. ‘I know.’

Godarz’s shirt was soaked with blood by the time Alcaeus our Greek physician appeared with his canvas bag over his shoulder. He ignored Gallia and me as he knelt down beside Godarz, reached into his bag and extracted a small knife. He cut away Godarz’s shirt to examine the wound. I could see that it was deep, blood now oozing onto the floor. Alcaeus worked with skill and speed, cleaning the wound with vinegar and then applying a large honey-impregnated dressing on it. He then wound a large bandage around Godarz’s belly in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood, but Godarz had already lost so much. He did not speak now, only stared unblinking at Gallia with a bewildered look in his eyes.

Domitus ran into the room followed by four of his officers and other servants. He stared at Godarz and I thought I detected a look of distress in his eyes, then his stern countenance returned.

‘What happened?’

I stood up to face him, a wave of grief sweeping over me.

‘That whore Nadira and Godarz’s new headman were assassins sent by Mithridates. They fled but must still be in the city. They might try to escape using the harbour.’

The tiny harbour was reached via a small gate in the city’s southern wall. Domitus turned to his officers.

‘Turn out the garrison, seal the city and organise sweeps of all the buildings. Find them,’ he ordered.

The men saluted and ran from the room.

‘He’s gone, I’m sorry.’

I turned to see Alcaeus had a finger at Godarz’s neck to feel for a pulse. He shook his head at Gallia and then closed my governor’s eyes. Gallia pulled up Godarz’s head to her face and began sobbing. Domitus ordered everyone out of the room.

‘I’m sorry.’

He placed a hand on my shoulder and also took his leave, as did Alcaeus. I knelt beside Gallia and we both wept for our dead friend.

The sweep of the city was carried out at once, soldiers hammering on every door to gain entrance. Soon word spread that the governor had been murdered and dazed and confused citizens, most in their night attire, flooded onto the streets. Many headed for the city’s central square, perhaps thinking that a herald would inform them of what had happened and what measures I was taking. But the only thing I did was to assist Alcaeus carry the body of Godarz to his bedroom where it was washed and dressed. Most of his servants were in tears as they attempted to carry out their duties. Godarz had been a fair and gentle master, though like Gallia and I he had no slaves in his household, only paid servants. Those of us who had been slaves had no wish to be surrounded by others who lived in such misery. Afterwards I was numb as I held my wife and we made our way back to the palace. I found an ashen-faced Rsan on the palace steps. I merely nodded at him as we passed. There were no words I could speak that would ease his anguish.

We shuffled into the throne room where Domitus was pacing up and down. I looked at Gallia, her eyes puffy and red.

‘Do you want to sleep?’

She shook her head. ‘I cannot sleep tonight.’

She walked over to her high-backed chair on the dais and slumped into it. I sat down beside her. Domitus stopped pacing and stood before us. His face betrayed no emotion though I knew he must be grieving for his dead friend.

‘Parties are sweeping the city now. All gates are sealed and no one can get in or out. The men are searching every home, business, temple and storeroom, and I’ve ordered more men from the camp.’

He glanced at Gallia. ‘Most likely they will have rented a room or rooms and will be lying low until they make a run for it.’

‘See to it that they don’t escape,’ hissed Gallia. She had Godarz’s blood on her dress. Domitus noticed it but said nothing. He stood to attention, saluted and then marched from the room, leaving us alone with our grief.

Dura was a well-defended city surrounded by a circuit wall with a total of twenty-four towers, plus the Palmyrene Gate, spaced at regular intervals along the wall. Each tower had its own detachment of men who would be lining the wall to ensure no one scaled it from the city side. Five hundred men manned the walls and towers and a further five hundred garrisoned the Citadel. Added to these were the detachments of Dura’s horsemen stabled in the city — more than enough to catch a pair of assassins, or so I hoped.

The new day began to dawn and still we remained on our thrones and waited for news. I had messages sent via carrier pigeon to Palmyra to alert Malik and Haytham of what had happened, and to ask them for their assistance to track down the pair should they escape from Dura. Domitus organised searches of the trade caravans camped to the north of the city. All traffic using the pontoon bridges was stopped. Domitus even sent small boats north and south on the Euphrates to search for the pair.

Orodes came soon after dawn. He lived in his own house in the north of the city, a great walled residence that also housed his bodyguard — two hundred and fifty men from the Kingdom of Susiana. As soon as he heard the news of Godarz’s murder he and his men had helped Dura’s garrison search the city. Unshaven and looking tired, the first thing he did was embrace Gallia and kiss her on the cheek.

‘You look tired, Gallia.’ He noted her bloodstained dress. ‘You should try to get some rest.’

She smiled faintly. ‘Alas, lord prince, if I close my eyes all I will see is the murder of Godarz. I therefore prefer to keep them open.’

Orodes nodded grimly. ‘Well, at least let us refresh ourselves. You too, Pacorus. You both look terrible.’

He organised fruit juices, bread, cheese and sweet meats to be brought to the palace terrace as Gallia and I changed our clothes and washed our faces. When we returned Dobbai was sitting in her chair. Orodes was speaking to her as a wan Gallia slumped into a chair beside her. In the east the sun was an angry red ball as it began its ascent into the sky. Dobbai said nothing to Gallia as I walked over to the table and helped myself to a cup of juice. I poured another and handed it to Gallia. I took my seat next to her and then all four of us sat in silence for a while. Dobbai spoke at last.

‘So Mithridates shows his hand at last.’ She turned to Orodes. ‘Your brother has learnt patience, it would seem.’

‘My stepbrother,’ Orodes corrected her. He was always quick to inform all and sundry that he and Mithridates did not have the same mother, his being a concubine in the palace at Ctesiphon whom his father Phraates had fallen in love with. The mother of Mithridates, Queen Aruna, had had her poisoned, or so rumour had it.

‘But why now?’ asked Orodes despairingly.

‘Is it not obvious?’ replied Dobbai. ‘Now he and his brother-in-evil Narses are ready to implement their plan.’

‘What plan?’ I asked.

Dobbai held out her hands. ‘I do not know. But I do know that the death of Godarz will begin tumultuous events within the empire. He also knows this, though of course he would have preferred your death rather than your governor’s.’

‘I will march on Ctesiphon,’ I announced, ‘and bring back the head of Mithridates to adorn the entrance of Godarz’s mansion. The head of Narses too, a fitting tribute to Godarz. This is my vow.’

‘And that is exactly what they want you to do, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai, ‘to march at the head of your army into their trap.’

‘What trap?’ asked Orodes.