Peter Darman - Parthian Vengeance

Outside the city the air was even colder and the river was shrouded in a thick mist. Though this was not atypical for the time of year I prayed that it was not an ill omen for the coming campaign. Legionaries marching six abreast were filing over both bridges when we arrived at the river where Domitus was standing talking to some of his officers. He raised his cane to me, dismissed them and walked over.

‘Glad you could join us, hope we didn’t disturb your sleep.’

‘Very amusing, Domitus. Where are Byrd and Malik?’

He grinned. ‘You know them two. They left while Somnus was stilling entertaining me.’

‘Is that a whore?’ suggested a grinning Surena.

Domitus pointed his cane at him. ‘Watch your mouth, puppy.’

I turned to Surena. ‘Somnus is the Roman god of sleep, for your information. Now kindly be quiet.’

‘Anyway,’ continued Domitus, ‘Byrd and Malik are across the river with their scouts just to make sure we don’t have any nasty surprises.’

I doubted that. Directly opposite the bridges was Hatran territory, patrolled and garrisoned by detachments of my father’s army.

Domitus continued. ‘Orodes and the rest of the horsemen are waiting until my boys are over, then they will cross. It will be a while yet, though.’

I looked at Surena. ‘You and I will ride over to the other side and see if we can catch up with Byrd and Malik. Bring a score of your men along. Vagharsh, you stay here with the rest and join Orodes when he crosses over.’

Vagharsh nodded. Surena ordered the first twenty men behind us to follow him as we walked our horses to the first bridge. The officers halted the legionaries marching onto the bridge to give us passage to the other side. And so, wrapped in our white cloaks for the chill and mist showed no signs of abating, we cantered over the bridge and into my father’s kingdom and headed south, riding parallel to the great column of marching soldiers.

Two hours after I had left the Citadel the mist finally began to clear from the river. Orodes had brought over the cavalry and now parties of horse archers were sent into the east to cover our left flank and ahead to act as a vanguard. I was not overly concerned about being surprised, as we were still in Hatran territory and south of that lay the Kingdom of Babylon. Still, with Dobbai’s warning ringing in my ears I was taking no chances. Soon the rays of sun had burnt off the last vestiges of the mist to reveal a cloudless sky. It would be a glorious spring day, ideal for marching, not too hot and with a slight northerly breeze. I had to confess that it felt good to be marching with the army again. At last I would settle things with Mithridates and Narses.

By noon most of the horsemen were walking to preserve their animals’ strength. The only horsemen still riding were on patrol. Malik and Byrd rode back to the army, their clothes covered in dust and their horses breathing heavily from a long ride. They both dismounted and joined our small group of myself, Orodes and Domitus. Domitus always walked despite being general of the army and despite my efforts to persuade him otherwise.

‘No enemy anywhere,’ reported Byrd, ‘land empty.’

‘I’m sure my stepbrother has his spies watching us,’ said Orodes.

‘If they are, then they are very well hidden,’ said Malik.

The land along the riverbank was highly cultivated and populated, but further inland the fields and irrigation ditches gave way to flat, barren desert until one encountered the cultivated land on the western bank of the River Tigris. There were few inhabitants of the land between the rivers apart from nomads.

‘Mithridates will soon learn that we have left Dura,’ I said. ‘The disadvantage of being a city on the Silk Road is that the traffic is an efficient carrier of gossip as well as goods. It doesn’t matter. After all, we want to goad him into action.’

Nevertheless Orodes shielded the army with a thick screen of patrols as we marched south along the Euphrates. As usual each night the army sheltered in a camp surrounded by an earth rampart surmounted by a wall of stakes, constructed after the Roman fashion. Each day the stakes were taken down and loaded onto mules for transportation to the next night’s camp site. It was a time-consuming process to erect and then disassemble these camps, but it ensured that the army and its wagons and animals were safe from any night attack. Not that there was much risk of that — Parthians as a rule did not fight at night.

‘I would not put it past my stepbrother to launch a night attack,’ remarked Orodes as we relaxed in the command tent after another day’s march.

‘No army near,’ said Byrd.

‘I doubt he will even fight,’ added Malik, his black robes matching the tattoos on his face.

‘What was he like, as a child, I mean?’ I asked.

‘Pacorus wants to know if he had horns on his head and a forked tail,’ said Domitus, cramming a biscuit into his mouth.

The biscuits that we took with us on campaign were called Parthian bread, though they were actually rock-hard wafers that reportedly lasted for years. Domitus said that they were excellent for patching shields.

Orodes leaned back in his chair. ‘Cruel, I would say.’

‘Nothing else?’ I asked.

‘Oh, he was spoilt and indulged by his mother, my stepmother, and by father. But then, there is nothing exceptional about that. But he was possessed of an evil nature. He made trouble just for the sake of it and inflicted injury on those who were helpless and could not fight back, slaves mostly. That is why he dislikes you, Pacorus.’

‘Because Pacorus was a slave?’ offered Domitus.

Orodes nodded. ‘Yes. He could not accept that one reduced so low could rise up and become great. Made worse by you having taken the crown of Dura from him.’

‘I did not take the crown from him,’ I said bitterly. ‘I found it lying in the gutter, such was the state he left my kingdom in.’

Domitus continued to munch on his biscuits. ‘Most poetic. Hopefully we can track down the bastard, kill him and get things back to normal.’ He looked at Orodes. ‘No offence meant.’

‘And none taken, my friend,’ replied Orodes, ‘the world will be a better place without Mithridates in it.’

Everyone agreed with him, though if we did end the reign of Mithridates then without a doubt Narses would seize the high crown for himself. But not if he too was dead. One battle at a time.

It took the army ten days to reach the spot that brought us parallel to where the Tigris and Ctesiphon lay fifty miles to the east, and still there was no sign of the enemy. Perhaps Mithridates had abandoned Ctesiphon and fled east to Narses’ capital at Persepolis. I hoped not — it was five hundred miles from Ctesiphon to the capital of Persis. On the other hand, if he had then Narses would have to abandon the siege of Elymais and Gotarzes would be relieved. All these thoughts went through my mind as the army stocked up on its water supplies for the march east across the desert. Fourteen thousand soldiers, two thousand squires and their two thousand camels, over two thousand mules, the drivers of the wagons, a thousand camels carrying spare arrows and their riders and over six thousand horses consumed a lot of water each day. At least it was spring and not summer for the heat of these areas in the hottest months was fierce. Fortunately the camels and mules were hardy creatures. Indeed the mules were capable of tolerating extremes of heat and cold and surviving on sparse rations of food and water and only a few hours’ sleep each night.

After a day of rest we set off east across the desert. Byrd, Malik and their scouts rode far ahead of the army and patrols of horse archers covered our flanks and formed a vanguard. I walked with Orodes and Domitus at the head of the army, the cataphracts leading their horses behind them, the squires tending to their horses and camels.