Domitus suggested that we hang the bodies of the executed from the city walls but I ordered them to be burned and their ashes scattered over the Tigris. Those Cilicians and Sarmatians that had been captured were sent under escort to Axsen at Babylon, there to serve her kingdom as slaves for the rest of their lives. They numbered less than five thousand but at least they could be distributed among the kingdom’s villages to assist in the rebuilding work being undertaken in the aftermath of two invasions at the hands of Narses and Mithridates.
The captives left the next morning, a column of unshaven, barefoot, filthy men chained together and escorted by five hundred of Vagises’ horse archers, who were under orders to kill any that showed any signs of rebelliousness. Sitting on Remus near what had been Seleucia’s gatehouse I watched them trudge out of the city west towards Babylon, their heads cast down, a sullen silence hanging over them. The only sounds were the tramp of their feet on the ground and the clinking of the chains around their ankles.
‘You do not seem very pleased with your victory,’ said Gallia on Epona beside me.
I pointed at the line of slaves. ‘That was me once, in Cappadocia many years ago. Chained just like that and condemned to a life of slavery.’
‘Then free them,’ she said, ‘it is within your power if you find their circumstances so disagreeable.’
‘I cannot. They will only cause trouble and Babylonia needs all the manpower it can get to repair the devastation visited upon it.’
‘You could always enlist them in the army,’ she suggested.
I was appalled. ‘Dura does not use mercenaries, men who would change sides for a few drachmas. They are untrustworthy, expensive and lack discipline.’
‘Well, then, you are better off without them. At least Axsen will be able to make use of them.’
In front of us the end of the column walked disconsolately out of Seleucia and into the desert.
The next day Axsen herself arrived at the city escorted by a hundred purple-clad riders. This time we stood at the foot of the palace steps to greet the queen whose city this was. She slid off her horse as I bowed my head to her. She embraced me and then Gallia, Nergal and Praxima and I introduced her to Phriapatius and his sons. It was a potentially awkward moment as the king had formerly been an ally of Mithridates and Narses. But Axsen smiled warmly at him and Phriapatius for his part was most eager to endear himself to Babylon’s queen and the king of king’s wife.
‘Carmania stands ready to assist your majesty in any way that you see fit,’ he promised as he and his sons laid their right hands on their chests and bowed deeply to her.
Axsen was delighted by their pledge of allegiance. ‘You are very kind and I thank you. Babylon is delighted to have Carmania as an ally.’
Axsen turned and ushered forward the commander of her escort. I recognised him as the officer I had first encountered at Babylon’s Marduk Gate following Narses’ second siege of the city.
‘This is Demaratus. I have appointed him commander of Babylon’s garrison. He is a man Lord Mardonius had great faith in.’
I thought I detected Axsen’s voice falter when she mentioned the dead commander of Babylon’s army, but she smiled when Demaratus bowed his head to us.
‘It is good to see you again, Demaratus,’ I told him.
‘And you, majesty,’ he replied.
I walked beside Axsen as we ascended the steps and entered the palace. Legionaries were standing at every stone pillar and at every doorway.
‘I see that my palace is well guarded, Pacorus,’ Axsen noted as we walked across the intricately laid mosaics that led to the columned courtyard.
‘Babylon’s security is always uppermost in my mind, majesty,’ I replied.
Axsen giggled. ‘Oh, Pacorus, always so formal. And thank you for the gift of the slaves. We passed them on the road. They will prove most useful.’
At the entrance to the royal suite we halted and bowed to her as she took her leave, asking for Gallia and Praxima to accompany her into her private chambers. In the palace square meanwhile, workmen were re-laying the stone slabs that had been removed to allow the wooden crosses to be planted in the ground.
Later Axsen gave a great feast in the banqueting hall in celebration of our victory at Seleucia. Thus far she had said nothing concerning the execution of Mithridates but did so now as I sat beside her at the high table before the assembly of all the senior officers of the armies of Dura, Mesene and Carmania and the queen’s Babylonians.
‘I am glad he is dead,’ she told me, ‘but I fear Orodes may not approve of your actions.
This came as no surprise to me. ‘As his lord high general I acted according to what I believed would serve the empire best, majesty. At the very least Mithridates will no longer be a figure for malcontents to rally around. The empire cannot afford to be fighting a civil war at the same time as a conflict with the Romans and Armenians.’
‘What will the Armenians do now that the Romans have decided to invade Egypt rather than Parthia?’ she asked, a slave pouring wine into her gold rhyton.
I waved the girl away when she held the silver jug over my drinking vessel. ‘Tigranes has conquered northern Hatra and his soldiers are camped only sixty miles or so from the city itself, but without siege engines he has little hope of seizing it, especially now Orodes is there to reinforce Gafarn.’
Axsen sipped at her wine. ‘But Tigranes has agreed to a cessation of hostilities, has he not?’
I smiled. ‘Only because it suits him to do so. His forces muster at Nisibus and his son campaigns to conquer Gordyene. With a hundred thousand men at least he can afford to pick his moment to attack us again, and let us not forget that Crassus will be arriving in Syria soon.’
She replaced her rhyton on the table. ‘You do not paint a very rosy picture, Pacorus.’
‘It would have been far worse had Aulus Gabinius struck east instead of south.’
‘It was a miracle that he did so.’
I thought of Dobbai’s night ritual. ‘Yes, a miracle indeed.’
The assembled officers enjoyed the evening immensely and as the time passed and the wine flowed drunken oaths of loyalty were pledged between all and sundry. Thumelicus managed to find a Carmanian who was bigger than he and the two of them stood on a table and declared their undying friendship. The bearded Carmanian monster held Thumelicus’ arm aloft and declared to the assembled that the German was the slayer of maskim, to which everyone cheered and drank more wine.
‘Who is maskim?’ asked Gallia as Thumelicus and his new companion fell off the table onto the floor to rapturous applause.
‘Demons of the underworld,’ answered Axsen.
‘He was the one who strangled Mithridates,’ I said, pointing at the very drunk Thumelicus whose nose was bleeding profusely from hitting it on the floor.
‘Then his new title is most apt,’ replied Axsen.
Notwithstanding the descent into mass drunkenness the evening went well and it was good to see Axsen smiling, though she must have been grieving for the dead Mardonius and missing Orodes terribly. I drank too much wine and had to be helped to bed by a very merry Gallia who wanted me to make love to her. I remember hurriedly stripping off as my wife disrobed. I lay down on the bed, and then inexplicably tried to unwind the bandage on my left arm before passing out.
I woke up to loud banging on the door to our room and opened my lead-like eyelids with difficulty, the banging and shouting from behind the door making my headache worse.
‘Majesties,’ I heard a man shout, ‘your presence is required in the throne room.’
The thumping on the door continued and I saw Gallia rise from the bed.
‘Enough!’ I shouted, sending a spasm of pain through my skull. ‘We hear you! Stop banging on the door or I will have you flogged.’