Peter Darman - The Parthian

The herchant’s guard stopped and looked nervously at his master, who clapped his hands and smiled.

‘Of course, of course, highness. As you wish.’

After a couple of minutes the donkey got back on its feet. Gallia handed it to Gafarn and walked over to my father. She bowed her head to him.

‘You are most generous, majesty; I did not mean to cause offence. But I cannot stand by when I see cruelty.’

My father smiled at her. ‘You are indeed a rare beauty, Gallia. Where you riding back to the city?’

‘Yes, majesty, we have been attending to our archery skills.’

My father looked at the Amazons drawn up by the side of the road.

‘Do your women shoot well, Gallia?’

She smiled. ‘Yes, majesty, like me. they always hit what they aim at.’

My father nudged Azat forward. ‘I don’t doubt it. Have a good day, Gallia.’

I embraced Gallia and kissed her on the cheek. ‘My father and I are going to the training fields. Try not to kill anyone between here and the city.’

She jabbed me in the ribs. ‘Thank you for the gift.’

The story of Gallia and the merchant only added more to the myth that surrounded her, as well as to that of her ‘wild women’.

She left the Amazons at Hatra when we rode north to Nisibus to see Vata, though I did take Nergal and the fifty Parthians who had come with me from Italy. He met us ten miles south of the town with a handful of the garrison. I recognized his round face and stocky frame as he jumped down from his horse and ran towards me, and then we embraced. He was nearly thirty years of age now and his face had a slightly haggard look. In truth, the years had not been kind to him.

‘It is good to see you, my friend,’ I said.

Gallia had dismounted and stood several feet behind me, though when he saw her he let go of me and went down on one knee before her.

‘Your servant, lady.’

She lifted him up and kissed him on the cheek.

‘I am glad to meet you, Vata. I have heard a lot about you.’

‘Not all bad, I hope,’ he winked at me.

As we rode to Nisibus together, Vata gave me a brief summary of events in the empire.

‘Our friend King Darius still wants to be a Roman, but we have placed forces on our northern border to try and pre-empt any Roman invasion. For the moment things are quiet.’

‘And what of King Sinatruces?’ I asked.

‘He still lives, just.’

‘Who is King Sinatruces?’ asked Gallia.

‘The king of kings,’ said Vata, ‘he’s over eighty years old, and when he dies there will be civil war.’

‘Surely not,’ I was surprised.

‘The empire has become a more fractious place since you left us, Pacorus. There are rumours that the title will not pass to his son, Phraates, but will be challenged by other kings of the empire.’

‘And if that happens?’ Gallia was inquisitive about the workings of the empire.

Vata smiled. ‘Then, lady, there will be war.’

Nisibus was in truth a dismal place, which suited Vata’s mood. That night he gave a lavish feast in our honour, though I could tell that his father’s death had cast a dark shadow over him. He was the town’s governor and his loss and his duties weighed heavily on him. I saw little of the carefree young man whom I remembered. He had changed; but then, so had we all.

‘It’s good that you are back, my friend,’ he said as we relaxed after our meal in his governor’s palace, large, rather austere limestone building in the city’s northern district. ‘Your father will have need of all the great warriors he can lay his hands on.’

‘Really, why?’

‘Because many in the empire are jealous of Hatra and its wealth. They will be even more so now that you have returned.’

I took another sip of wine. ‘I doubt that anyone has noticed.’

He laid a hand on my arm. ‘You are wrong, my friend. Your story spreads like a wildfire to all parts of the empire.’ He looked past me to where Gallia was talking to Nergal.

‘It’s true what they say about her. She is a stunning beauty, my congratulations.’

‘What about you, my friend. Is there a woman in your life?’

He laughed, and for a brief second the old Vata returned. ‘Many, though none that I would want to introduce to my mother.’

‘I am sorry about your father.’

He looked and me and shrugged. ‘It is a soldier’s fate to die in battle. And my father was a soldier.’

‘The best,’ I said.

He leaned in closer. ‘Tell me, is it true what they say about Gallia?’

‘What?’

‘That she fought beside you in battle.’

I finished my wine. ‘It’s true. She has fought in many battles. What’s more, she saved my life once when a Roman was about to run his sword through me.’

‘Hard to believe that one so gorgeous is capable of fighting. I’ve heard said that her coming was predicted by the old hag that Sinatruces keeps at his palace.’

‘That is also true.’

He slapped me hard on the shoulder.

‘We live in strange times. My friend.’

Once we had said our farewells to Vata, Gallia and I returned to Hatra and then set off on the journey across my father’s kingdom to visit King Sinatruces, taking a leisurely trip down the west bank of the River Tigris. My retinue numbered over two hundred and included most of those who had travelled from Italy, though Gafarn and Diana remained at the palace along with Alcaeus, Byrd and Godarz. The latter had been appointed to be Prince Vistaspa’s personal envoy, and when I asked what that meant exactly, he had smiled and replied.

‘It mostly involves talking for hours about the old times when we ride together. Obviously I am too old to fight, but my old lord is kind and we are planning a trip to Arabia to source new breeding stock for the king’s stables.’

Godarz was a welcome addition to my father’s household, not least because his presence had made Vistaspa less severe than I remembered him. Nergal had become the commander of my personal bodyguard, which was made up of those who had come from Italy. Many of my father’s bodyguard had wanted to join, as well as others who came to Hatra having heard of my adventures, but I refused them all. I had a close bond with those I had fought beside in Italy, and I only wanted their swords and bows to protect me. My father had raised an eyebrow when I told him that Gallia’s Amazons should be included, but at that time he could refuse me nothing and so twenty fierce female horsemen led by the wild Praxima rode behind my scarlet banner.

How fine we looked during that journey, those on horse dressed in white tunics, white cloaks, mail shirts, silver helmets with white horsehair crests, red-brown leggings and leather boots. Our saddlecloths were red edged with white, while our horses wore black leather bridles decorated with silver strips. Domitus and his cohort were also equipped with white tunics, and their shields were no longer painted red but white, with their bosses burnished bright. With his white crest atop his helmet, he still looked liked a Roman centurion, even down to his short-cropped hair.

‘Long hair is for women. No offence, sir.’

I was walking beside him, holding Remus by his reins. ‘None taken, but most of your men have long hair.’

‘That’s different. Normally I would insist that they all trim their manes, but they fought for three years under Spartacus and travelled halfway across the world to stay with you, and they are among the best soldiers I have seen in battle, so I make an exception for them. But only for them.’ He cast me a glance. ‘If you are serious about raising a legion.’

‘Never more so,’ I replied.

‘Then those who join it will have to look, dress and drill the way I want them to. There can be no argument about that.’