Peter Darman - Parthian Vengeance

‘After all these years and after so much blood, you still act like a dotard, son of Hatra.’

Dobbai walked into the room accompanied by Gallia, who threw a despatch on the table. I picked it up.

‘What is this?’

‘An appeal from Gotarzes. His kingdom is assaulted by Narses.’

King Gotarzes was the ruler of Elymais, a land across the Tigris that lay to the east of Nergal’s realm of Mesene. A valuable ally and trusted friend, Gotarzes had the great misfortune to rule a kingdom that had Narses’ own kingdom of Persis to the south and Susiana, the domain of Mithridates, to the north. He had fought by my side against both of them and now Narses was attacking him.

‘You can forget about the Romans, then,’ said Domitus. ‘This is the handiwork of Mithridates.’

‘The Roman speaks the truth,’ said Dobbai. ‘I did warn you not to underestimate Mithridates.’

‘We have to help Gotarzes,’ said Gallia.

I looked at the map once more. That was easier said than done. It was over five hundred miles from Dura to the city of Elymais, the capital of Gotarzes’ kingdom — it would take nearly four weeks to get there unimpeded, more if we encountered any resistance along the way.

‘Gotarzes is beyond help,’ remarked Dobbai. ‘If he had any sense, which he doesn’t, he would abandon his city and flee.’

‘He would never do that,’ insisted Orodes, ‘he is a man of honour.’

Dobbai sat in one of the chairs around the table. ‘Soon to be a dead man of honour.’

‘The army is assembled, is it not?’ asked Gallia.

‘Yes,’ I replied.

‘Well, then, we can march to assist Gotarzes.’

I looked at her, then at Domitus and Orodes. They were thinking the same as me — we would be marching into a trap.

‘No,’ I said, ‘we will stick to the original plan. We will strike for Ctesiphon first and then march into Susiana. Hopefully Gotarzes can hold out until we can organise his relief.’

‘That is the best course of action,’ said Domitus.

‘It is sound strategy,’ remarked Orodes.

Gallia was going to object but was stilled by Dobbai. ‘What they say is correct, child. Gotarzes is the bait that Mithridates dangles in front of your husband’s eyes. To take it would spell the end of the King of Dura and his army.’

Orodes folded his arms and looked very grave while Domitus went back to studying the map. Dobbai watched him like a hawk. At length he spoke.

‘How does Mithridates benefit from inciting outsiders to attack his empire?’

Dobbai cackled. ‘A good question, Roman, and one that has a simple answer.’

‘Which is?’ I asked irritably. Sometimes she sorely tested my patience.

She sighed. ‘All of you,’ she pointed at me, Orodes and Domitus with a bony finger, ‘labour under the delusion that everyone thinks and acts the same as you. They do not. Mithridates and Narses desire above all to rid the world of the King of Dura.’

‘Then why don’t they march against me?’ I asked.

Dobbai looked at me in exasperation. ‘I sometimes think that Coalemus himself has rented your body.’

‘Who is Coalemus’ queries Domitus.

‘The god of idiots,’ replied Orodes, none too pleased at Dobbai’s insolence. Gallia laughed aloud.

‘You have, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai very slowly so I would understand what she was saying, ‘beaten both Mithridates and Narses in battle, so they obviously see little merit in tangling with you again, at least not until they are certain of victory.’

‘If Dura’s allies are occupied dealing with threats to their own lands,’ mused Orodes, ‘then they cannot aid you, Pacorus.’

Dobbai’s eyes narrowed. ‘Leaving Mithridates and Narses free to concentrate their hatred on you, son of Hatra.’ She really did revel in other people’s misfortune and general misery.

‘Then let them come,’ I said grandly, ‘and then I can destroy them.’

‘They will not come to Dura,’ said Dobbai. ‘They are not idiots. They have seen what happens to armies that try to storm this city. As I told you before, as long as the griffin sits above the Palmyrene Gate no army shall take this city.’

‘Then we shall go to them,’ I announced.

Dobbai rose and held out her hand for Gallia to take. ‘And that is precisely what they want. You must take care, son of Hatra; indeed all of you must take care not to underestimate Mithridates above all. Come child, let us leave them to their games of strategy.’

The proceeding days saw a flurry of letters between Dura and Hatra, Babylon and Mesene. I thanked Shamash that the empire had a reliable courier system that ensured that the kingdoms were in constant touch with each other. The postal system comprised hundreds of mounted couriers who rode from city to city via rest stations located every thirty miles. At these stations the couriers swapped their horses for fresh mounts that took them to the next station and so on. But even so it took several days for news to reach us of what was happening in other parts of the empire. Dura was around twelve hundred miles from the eastern edge of the empire. I sometimes forgot how large Parthia was.

I wrote to King Vardan of Babylon, friend to my father and me, asking if he could take his army east to aid Gotarzes while I marched Dura’s army against Ctesiphon. In addition, I asked Nergal if he could reinforce Vardan and also strike at Susa, the capital city of Susiana. Uruk was only a hundred and fifty miles from Susa. Nergal could be there in around a week. I decided not to inform my father that I was striking at Ctesiphon and therefore marching across the south of his kingdom. He would learn of this after I had killed Mithridates. His anger would be a small price to pay for victory and peace in the empire. I also did not inform Vardan that I would be marching into the north of his kingdom. I would offer my apologies to him at the same time that I announced that Mithridates had been removed from power.

My father informed me that the raids Hatra was experiencing were inconvenient but not serious. However, they did require substantial numbers of troops to be sent north to patrol the border and deter any further incursions. Media and Atropaiene reported much the same.

‘They are achieving their aim,’ remarked Domitus as he sifted through parchments on his table.

The camp was heaving with men, mules and activity. Surrounded by a mud-brick wall, it was capacious enough to accommodate the Duran Legion and the Exiles plus all their wagons, animals and equipment, but it was a squeeze. Domitus had endured many sleepless nights overseeing the mustering of his men, but now the two legions were fully assembled and ready to march.

‘We do not need Hatra’s help,’ I said.

‘Mm, well,’ he rose from his desk and grabbed his vine cane lying on the table, placing a weight on the parchments so they would not be disturbed. ‘Let us hope you are right. Walk with me.’

Spring would soon be here and the temperature was already rising. It was pleasant enough inside the large tent but outside the atmosphere was becoming oppressive. The smell of sweat, leather and animal dung greeted me as I stepped into the open air.

‘The horsemen are assembled?’ asked Domitus.

I nodded. ‘Twelve hundred cataphracts crammed inside the city and three thousand horse archers camped five miles south of it.’

‘Ten thousand foot, four thousand horse,’ he mused. ‘You think that’s enough to defeat Mithridates and Narses?’

I slapped him on the arm. ‘As a Roman you above all should know that it is quality not quantity that makes the difference on the battlefield. What is troubling you?’

‘Time to pay our respects.’ He turned and walked to one of the two smaller tents that were located either side of the command tent. I followed. Guards stood at attention around the tent and more guards stood watch inside, for these shelters held sacred items — the legionary standards. The standard of the Duran Legion was a griffin cast from pure gold that was fixed to a silver plate atop a pole. When the legion marched the griffin would go with it. It was held upright in a rack next to the Staff of Victory, an old kontus shaft onto which had been attached silver discs depicting each of the army’s victories. Domitus walked over to the griffin and stroked it gently. I did the same.