After the service of thanksgiving kings, queens and nobles gathered in the throne room where those who had showed exceptional bravery in the battle were rewarded with gold, expensive swords and even grants of land. I was not only pleased for Gafarn and Diana, whose rule had finally been vindicated, but also for my mother who sat on the dais beside them. The past few years had been hard for her. Not only had she lost her husband, my father, but had also seen parts of his kingdom seized by enemies and the authority of her adopted son challenged. But one of those enemies had been dealt a heavy blow and today she smiled and radiated majesty.
Surena, who had deliberately missed the service in the temple, believing that there were no gods, now came into the chamber with his senior officers. They walked to the dais and bowed their heads at Gafarn and then Surena stood before Adeleh and bowed his head. Behind him two of his officers unfurled a great purple flag bearing an eight-pointed flower flanked by two eagles and placed it on the floor before her. We all looked on intrigued as Surena went down on one knee before my sister.
‘Behold, lady, the banner of Artashes, the Armenian upstart whose army was yesterday destroyed outside this city. He is now but one of the many thousands of Armenian dead who litter the ground. I present you with his banner, princess, with the promise that his death and the liberation of Nisibus, your late husband’s city, will avenge Prince Vata’s death. This I swear in front of you and all those assembled in this great hall.’
There was warm applause at these words and Adeleh, her eyes moist with tears, walked forward and bid Surena to rise. She held out her hand and he kissed it before stepping back and bowing his head to her. It was a nice gesture, I thought.
Hatra felt like the city of old, with a king basking in victory and strengthened by allies. Gallia and Praxima chatted with a radiant Diana and Spartacus teased the young Prince Pacorus. Assur stood next to a pillar surrounded by his stern priests while Vistaspa was deep in conversation with Orodes, no doubt discussing the next phase of the campaign. And it was to Vistaspa that a guard handed a note that caused my brother’s general to frown and pass it on to Orodes.
The high king read it and then turned and saw me, beckoning me over. A knot tightening in my stomach told me that it was bad news before I reached him.
‘Crassus is preparing to cross the Euphrates at Zeugma,’ said Orodes. He handed me the note. ‘He is bringing fifty thousand men with him.’
Vistaspa was in a bullish mood. ‘Having just defeated over one hundred thousand Armenians we do not have anything to fear from half that number of Romans, majesty.’
Orodes smiled at him but I knew as he did that the Romans were a far tougher proposition than the Armenians.
Chapter 17
The next day I sat with the other kings on couches in the private wing of my brother’s palace. Outside peacocks roamed freely in the royal gardens and the scent of cedar and jasmine filled the ground-floor room, the doors leading to the veranda outside open to allow the air and sunlight to enter. Gafarn looked like a man reborn, his eyes afire with vigour and the haunted looked he had worn exorcised by the great victory we had won. Orodes, dressed in a rich purple silk shirt, baggy white leggings and red boots, also looked relaxed, despite knowing that the Romans were at long last on the march. Only Surena looked like a man who had just returned from the battlefield, attired in his black shirt and leggings, scale armour cuirass and helmet, which he had placed on the tiled floor in front of his couch.
After slaves had served us wine in solid gold rhytons, Orodes held up his drinking vessel to Gafarn.
‘A toast to the Kingdom of Hatra, whose forces have vanquished a great threat to the Parthian Empire.’
We raised our rhytons and drank the wine that was perhaps the finest I had ever tasted.
‘And to the Kingdom of Dura and the lord high general of the empire,’ added Orodes, raising his goblet a second time, this time to me.
We emptied our drinking vessels and the slaves refilled them as the king of kings leaned back on his couch.
‘And so, my friends, in the afterglow of victory we must turn our attention to dealing with another threat to the empire. Yesterday we received news that Crassus is about to cross the River Euphrates and begin the campaign that he believes will lead to the conquest of Parthia.’
Gafarn looked thoughtful but not particularly troubled while Silaces and Atrax looked at each other, Surena said nothing and Nergal sneered contemptuously.
‘What advice would my lord high general give?’ asked Orodes.
I drained my goblet and held it out to be refilled, but before I could say anything Surena spoke.
‘The Armenians must be pursued and Nisibus retaken before Armenia itself is invaded. The more time we spend here acting like debauched Persians the more opportunity Artavasdes has to raise another army.’
Atrax and Nergal looked wide-eyed at him while Silaces, who had spent many years campaigning with the King of Gordyene, merely shook his head resignedly. Gafarn frowned at Surena and Orodes looked aghast at his impertinence. Manners and etiquette were everything to Orodes. Even when he had been a landless, exiled prince at Hatra he had retained his strict sense of protocol and graciousness at all times.
‘I was not aware that you were now Parthia’s lord high general,’ he rebuked Surena, who looked at Orodes’ grave demeanour and blushed. I decided to save him from further embarrassment.
‘What Surena says is correct. We must send an army north to retake Nisibus and prevent the Armenians from raising fresh forces that can threaten Hatra. And if that means invading Armenia then so be it.’ Surena smiled to himself, no doubt thinking of how he and his Sarmatians would ravage Armenian lands.
‘And the Romans, Pacorus?’ asked Nergal. ‘What of them? If we march north then Crassus will surely be at the gates of this city when we return.’
‘You are right, my friend,’ I agreed, ‘we cannot allow Crassus a free hand in Parthia. Therefore I propose sending a force west to slow down his advance while the bulk of our armies deal with the Armenians, what is left of them.’
I smiled at Surena. ‘Dura’s legions, together with their siege engines and accompanied by the foot soldiers of Gordyene, Media and Babylon, can go north to lay siege to Nisibus. This will total twenty-eight thousand men. With them will go the heavy horsemen of Babylon, Media and Hatra — two and a half thousand men — plus the horse archers of Prince Peroz, Babylon, Media, Hatra, Mesene and some drawn from the ranks of Surena’s mounted bowmen, plus Gordyene’s medium horsemen. This gives a total of around thirty thousand horsemen, including Babylon’s Royal Guard. It is only fitting that King of Kings Orodes should lead this army.’
‘Some of my horse archers, lord?’ queried Surena.
I smiled at him. ‘Indeed so, my young lion, for you and I will be riding west with Dura’s cataphracts, horse archers and a portion of your own horse archers to engage Crassus.’
Orodes looked alarmed. ‘If I take sixty thousand men north, Pacorus, how many men will be left to accompany you and Surena to face Crassus?’
‘Ten thousand,’ I answered.
The others shook their heads in disbelief. ‘Ten thousand horsemen cannot defeat a Roman army of fifty thousand men, Pacorus,’ said Nergal in alarm.
‘You go to certain defeat,’ remarked an even more alarmed Atrax.
I held up a hand. ‘My friends, please understand that the last thing I desire is a noble death at the hands of the Romans. I do not go to engage them in battle but rather to harry them, to both slow them down and wear them down. It is three hundred miles from Hatra to Zeugma. Crassus will cross the Euphrates in a few days’ time and I will leave this city tomorrow. He will march twenty miles a day whereas I can cover over thirty each day. Once I reach him my horsemen can launch hit-and-run attacks and stay out of range of his best units, his legions.’