Peter Darman - Parthian Vengeance

Nadira knew how to flatter, that much was certain.

Gallia regarded her with a pronounced aloofness, though I could tell that she had been flattered by her words. ‘You are too kind.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘Nadira, you must sit beside me and tell me more about how an old warrior such as Godarz managed to win the heart of such a beautiful woman.’

I led Nadira by the hand to her seat and embraced Godarz as he took his place beside his beloved. Domitus came over and bowed his head to Nadira and then slapped Godarz on the arm.

‘You old ram.’

Nadira smiled politely at the muscular, crop haired barbarian standing beside her. The volume of noise in the hall increased again. The wine flowed freely and food was ferried from the kitchens.

Once everyone had been seated Godarz rose and held out his hands. The hubbub died again as all caught sight of the man of who had become the Companions’ father figure, the sixty-year-old former slave who was now governor of Dura. He lowered his arms and as one we all rose to our feet and bowed our heads. The Companions had originally numbered one hundred and twenty but in the intervening years since our return to Parthia ten had died, all of them on the battlefield in my service. With great solemnity Godarz recited their names to the now silent assembly. In the courtyard outside each name was carved in granite on a memorial wall next to the gates of the Citadel so they would be remembered. He ended by asking the gods to care for their souls.

‘We will see them again, for the bond between us can never be broken, not even by death.’

He picked up his cup and held it aloft.

‘To Spartacus!’

We raised our own cups and toasted the man who had brought us all together, then returned to our drinking, talking and eating.

Gallia loved these occasions where she could reminisce about the old times in Italy and share jokes and tall tales with the surviving original Amazons. In my eyes she would always be the stunning blonde beauty I had first clapped eyes on in the camp of Spartacus on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius. But that was over ten years ago. Since then she had become a queen and had borne me three beautiful daughters. We both now had great responsibilities, to our children and to our subjects, but for at least one night Gallia could again be that carefree girl I had fallen in love with. She always had courage, but the years had hardened her to the greed and treachery of kings and I noticed that as the time passed she laughed and joked less and less. But tonight her blue eyes shone with excitement and she giggled and was happy among her friends.

‘So,’ I asked Nergal sitting across from me, ‘how is Mesene?’

‘It prospers,’ he replied. ‘I have given the marshlands to the Ma’adan to do with as they please.’

‘Really?’ I was shocked, for at a stroke Nergal had reduced the size of his kingdom by half.

‘It is true, lord,’ added Praxima, his Spanish-born wife who was now called Queen Allatu by the people of Mesene and revered as a god.

‘You have halved your kingdom, then.’

Nergal shrugged. ‘The marshlands belong to the Ma’adan, the people who live there. It has always been so. All I did was confirm what was already a fact. Besides, in return they have been most generous in supplying us with food and recruits.’

‘They serve in your army?’

Praxima grinned. ‘Of course! They know that a strong Mesene protects them also. They do not wish for another king like Chosroes.’

I was just about to converse with Nadira when the hulking figure of Thumelicus tapped Nergal on the shoulder and asked if he could sit in his chair.

‘Shouldn’t take more than a minute.’

Nergal winked at Praxima and duly surrendered his seat. Thumelicus ran a hand through his fair hair, his pale blue eyes wide as a result of too much wine. Every year I had to go through the same ritual with him at the annual feast. He placed his right elbow on the table.

‘Best out of three then, Pacorus.’

I sighed and tilted my head at Nadira, taking care not to stare at her superb breasts.

‘If you will forgive me, lady.’

In no time at all a small crowd had gathered round us as I rolled up my sleeves, placed my right elbow on the table and linked hands with Thumelicus. His grip tightened as he gaped at Nadira’s chest, while Godarz’s new love appeared to be bemused, confused and appalled in equal measure at the scene unfolding before her.

‘So,’ announced Thumelicus loudly, ‘we all know the rules. Best out of three and the winner takes Queen Gallia, the crown of Dura and the contents of the royal treasury.’

Companions banged on the table and cheered in approval, while Thumelicus grinned at Gallia and winked at Diana.

Thumelicus looked at Godarz. ‘On your signal, granddad.’

Godarz rested his hand on Nadira’s arm. ‘Your manners do not improve with the years, Thumelicus. Please begin.’

I like to think of myself as strong and physically fit, but Thumelicus was a brute who had fought as a gladiator in Italy many years ago and was now one of my best centurions, and as usual he almost wrenched my hand off as he forced it down onto the table. He did the same with my left hand as the first round ended in my ritual humiliation. Thumelicus took a great gulp of wine and then slammed his right elbow down on the table once more.

‘Come on, Pacorus, make a fist of it! An easy victory is no victory at all.’

I gripped his hand tightly and once more Godarz gave the signal to begin. I tried in vain to defeat the great German brute but to no avail and once more my hand was smashed down on to the table. Thumelicus screamed in triumph as he forced down my left arm to win the bout, though as he twisted my arm and I turned away in pain my eyes were confronted by Nadira’s radiant breasts rising up and threatening to burst free from the confines of her dress. Rarely has the taste of defeat been so sweet!

Thumelicus banged the table with his fists, jumped up and raised his hands in the air. Those around him slapped him on the back.

‘Behold,’ he shouted, ‘the new King of Dura.’

I rose from my seat and offered my aching hand to him.

‘If I had a crown I would present it to you, you big German savage.’

He smiled and took my hand, then dragged me towards him and locked me in an iron embrace. He released me and grinned at Gallia.

‘A kiss for your champion, my lady?’

Gallia blushed and offered her hand to him. Thumelicus hoisted himself on to the table and then slid across its surface to be in front of her, then embraced her and kissed her on the cheek. She pushed him away.

‘Behave yourself Thumelicus, you have had too much to drink.’

He kissed her again and retreated back over the table.

Diana and Praxima squealed and clapped with delight and Gafarn was bent double with laughter.

As the evening wore on every Companion came over to Godarz and congratulated him on catching such a prize in Nadira. All of them were genuinely happy that he had found a soul mate in the autumn years of his life.

‘She’s half his age,’ snapped Gallia as we took breakfast on the palace terrace the next morning. The Citadel sat atop a high rock escarpment overlooking the Euphrates, its sheer sides making it impregnable from the riverside. A large terrace surrounded by a stone balustrade had been created next to the rear of the throne room. It was extended so that each bedroom, ours included, that faced the river also had its own balcony.

‘What difference does that make?’ I replied as my two eldest daughters ran around us screaming at the tops of their voices. Little Eszter sitting in her raised chair cooed with delight. ‘He is obviously happy and she seems very agreeable.’