Peter Darman - Parthian Dawn

These men were well armed and no doubt knew their craft. They wore bronze helmets, red tunics covered with bronze scales and carried large round shields that had bronze facings sporting a black viper motif. They were armed with spears that had leaf-shaped blades, which they used to thrust at the legionaries, keeping the shields tucked tightly into their left sides. They advanced in a compact line with several ranks behind, not charging wildly but moving as a disciplined body. Their front rank tried to thrust their spears into the bellies of my men, jabbing the points forward. Our line of shields held in the press but my men could not make any headway against them. Worse, they were actually being forced back towards the gates and the walls. Domitus and his legionaries tried to thrust their swords over the top rim of their shields, into the faces and necks of their opponents, but the enemy’s spears kept them out of reach. More legionaries were flooding into the palace, but this only resulted in a great crush of men in and around the gates as the palace guards began herding the legionaries back. I was going to order a retreat when I saw archers on the walls. For a moment a feeling of nausea swept through me, believing them to be Chosroes’ men. But then I realised that they were Nergal’s archers. He had ordered his men to ride up to the walls, stand on their saddles and then haul themselves up onto the walls. The latter were no more than twice the height of a man so it was easy enough. Those who reached the top of the walls first then hoisted up the others, until there were dozens of archers either side of the gates. They then began pouring a withering fire into the enemy ranks, their arrows striking faces and necks.

The advance of the palace guards faltered and then stopped as they were hit by the arrow storm, men instinctively raising their shields to deflect the missiles being shot at them from the walls. But in doing so they lost the initiative, and a blast of trumpets preceded a charge by the Durans. The front ranks rushed forward into the now stationary palace guards and hacked their first line to pieces. Nergal’s archers were shooting arrows like men possessed until their quivers were empty, but their efforts were enough to tip the scales of the bloody melee below. Disorganised, their rear ranks thinned by arrows and their first two lines now destroyed, the guards began to fall back while the legionaries cried ‘Dura, Dura’ as they cut their way into the enemy. Back the guards went, towards the palace where archers were filing out from the building to form a phalanx at the top of the stone steps.

The legionaries pressed on, stabbing at their opponents, but then a volley of arrows brought their advance to a halt as the front ranks closed their shields together and those behind hoisted their shields above the heads of those in front to form a testudo . The arrows slammed harmlessly into leather and wood as the command was given to retreat and trumpet calls rang out across the palace square. The royal guards also fell back and regrouped at the foot of the stone steps, covered by the archers behind them. These men were good soldiers, that much was true, but they faced certain death if they continued fighting.

A temporary lull descended over the battle as the legionaries held their shields in place and the Mesenians took no further action. Of Chosroes there was no sign.

Domitus came trotting back to where I was standing just inside the broken palace gates, and where Nergal joined us a few moments later. Domitus embraced him.

‘I knew your horse boys would come in handy one day,’ he grinned.

‘I never thought they would fight as well as they did,’ remarked Nergal, looking at the royal guards. ‘What now?’

Around us more legionaries were flooding into the compound and taking up position on the flanks of the first men who had fought their way into the palace grounds. Fresh javelins were ferried to the men facing the palace guards. Soon there would be nearly five thousand men facing what I estimated to be under a thousand palace guards and around two hundred archers.

Nergal looked towards the palace steps. ‘They must know that they are going to die.’

Domitus spat on the ground. ‘They know, but they are good soldiers and are prepared to die for their lord.’

‘And where is their lord?’ I asked.

‘Skulking inside his palace no doubt,’ replied Nergal.

‘Let’s get it over with, then,’ said Domitus.

‘No, go and tell Marcus to bring his smaller ballista inside the palace grounds,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to lose any more men than we have to.’

Domitus nodded and ran back to where the engineers stood with their machines. He took a hundred men with him, who helped the Romans carry their ballista into the square and position them around three hundred paces from the royal guards arrayed at the foot of the palace steps. They loaded spears with long iron heads into the machines as I tied a white rag to the end of my sword and walked forward with it held aloft.

‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Domitus called after me.

I turned and smiled at him. ‘Is that any way to speak to your king?’

I walked to where the legionaries were standing in their ranks, shields still hoisted above their heads. They parted as I made my way to the front and then strolled beyond the front rank to face the enemy, their shields forming a wall of bronze to my front, the spears of the front ranks levelled towards me. Behind me Marcus’ men dragged forward the ballista as the legionaries shuffled their tightly packed centuries sideways to create gaps for the ballista to shoot from. I raised my sword so all could see the white rag tied to its point. I carried on walking towards the enemy until I was around a hundred paces from them.

‘That’s far enough,’ called out one in the front rank, their commander I assumed.

I lowered my spatha and untied the white rag.

‘I would ask that you lay down your weapons. I guarantee your lives will be spared.’

I slid my blade back in its sheath. There was no answer from the Mesenian ranks.

‘You have done all that honour requires,’ I said to them. ‘It is senseless to die for no purpose.’

Silence greeted my plea. I tried once more.

‘I ask you once more to lay down your weapons. I will not do so again.’

The enemy stood like stone statues before me.

‘Go back to your blonde whore,’ shouted one.

I turned and walked briskly back to my Durans and then to where Domitus, Nergal and Marcus stood near the gates. I pointed at Marcus.

‘Kill them all.’

He saluted and then rushed off to begin his work.

‘One day,’ said Domitus, ‘you will get an arrow through your heart or a spear in your guts while you stand in front of the enemy trying to sweet-talk them. If they didn’t want to fight any more they would have run away or thrown down their weapons already.’

I nodded. ‘You are right, it was a waste of time.’

Seconds later a score of ballista began shredding the enemy ranks. The first volley of iron-tipped missiles cut down the front rank with ease, slicing through shields, armour and flesh. Men were not only hit but also thrown back by the force of the blow, knocking those behind off their feet. Half the ballista fired solid iron balls the size of a fist at the archers at the top of the steps, smashing skulls and bodies with ease.

As the balls careered through the enemy’s ranks the archers loosed one volley against us, the arrows slamming harmlessly into the locked shields of the Duran ranks, but that was the only volley they shot. Seeing their comrades’ skulls being caved in and the spearmen of the royal guard being skewered by iron-tipped bolts, the archers ran. They suddenly disappeared into the palace. Domitus was standing beside me as we watched the archers melt away. I heard Marcus bark some orders and all the ballista were then directed against the spearmen, who to their credit were still standing in their ranks. But the missile fire was mercilessly thinning those ranks.