‘If he came with me he would be very far from home, lord.’
The king put his arm round my shoulder. ‘But in excellent company. What do you say?’
‘I repeat: I would not be able to guarantee his safety.’
He smiled. ‘Tell you what, if I allocated five thousand of my soldiers to take care of him would you be more amenable to him joining you?’
Five thousand horsemen would indeed be a welcome addition to the army that would be marching north to face the Armenians.
‘Very well, lord,’ I answered. ‘And you say Peroz is happy to join me?’
‘He will be ecstatic,’ beamed Phriapatius.
And so he was. The next day the army marched north back to Hatra along with Nergal’s men and five thousand Carmanian horse archers. Phriapatius headed back to his homeland via Persepolis and Sigal where he would leave garrisons to ensure the continued loyalty of those kingdoms. I had to admit that I was most satisfied by the turn of events. Not only did Musa and Khosrou safeguard the northeast corner of the empire but now the southeast of Parthia was also secure. These two bastions of loyalty would at the very least ensure that the eastern part of the empire remained at peace for the foreseeable future.
Like Nergal’s troops the Carmanians also wore red tops, though long-sleeved shirts rather than woollen kaftans, but Peroz himself wore a blue silk shirt with gold stitched to the arms. Like his father he was of medium height though he was more handsome, with a square jaw, light brown eyes and a clean-shaven face. He did not seem concerned in the slightest that his father had left him behind. In fact he seemed positively relieved to be away from his brother.
‘In my homeland he is called the “gilded peacock” because he spends all his time strutting around in his bronze and silver armour.’
‘He will be king one day, Peroz,’ I said.
‘As he never fails to remind me,’ replied the prince dryly.
‘You should try to get on with your brother,’ I told him, ‘he is family after all.’
‘A man can choose his friends, majesty,’ he replied, ‘but he has to put up with his family.’
Gallia and Praxima laughed and he smiled at them. He was an agreeable individual who was fascinated by Dura’s army, particularly the Durans and Exiles and Marcus’ machines, which were now disassembled and loaded back on their ox carts. These beasts limited our progress to between fifteen and twenty miles each day and so it took us fourteen days to reach Hatra. Each night we slept in a camp surrounded by a ditch and palisade despite being in friendly territory. Peroz thought this highly amusing.
‘Parthians do not fight at night, majesty,’ he informed us all on the first night as we dined in my tent.
‘The Romans do,’ replied Domitus curtly.
‘But surely the Romans are many miles away in Syria?’ he said.
A wicked grin spread across Domitus’ face. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘What my general is saying, Peroz, is that the army is more secure behind defences rather than having hundreds of tents, horses and wagons exposed in the open.’
Marcus complained about the extra food and fodder required to support the Carmanians and their horses but I told him that we would need all the troops we could muster when we fought the Armenians.
‘You reckon we will be fighting them, then?’ queried Domitus as he walked alongside our horses the next day, the usual dust cloud hanging over the army like a huge yellow desert phantom.
‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘With Tigranes dead they have lost their most able commander and their morale will be low. It is the perfect time to fight them. We also need to deal with them before Crassus arrives.’
He nodded. ‘Makes sense.’
‘We also need to retake Nisibus,’ I added. ‘It is an affront to my father’s memory that the second city in his kingdom is in the hands of the enemy.’
He raised his vine cane in acknowledgement and then headed towards the rear to inspect the Durans and Exiles in their marching order.
‘Majesty,’ Peroz said to Gallia, ‘Domitus is the general of your army?’
Gallia nodded.
‘Why then does he have no horse?’
‘He prefers to walk,’ she answered.
‘What happens to him if your army is forced to make a hasty retreat?’ he asked.
‘Dura’s army never makes a hasty retreat,’ I said. ‘Sometimes a slow and methodical tactical withdrawal but never a hasty retreat.’
‘I will have my father send General Domitus one of his largest elephants,’ said Peroz, ‘and then he will be able to sit on a throne on its back so he can look down on his foot soldiers.’
Gallia, Nergal and Praxima burst out laughing and even Vagharsh riding behind us chuckled.
‘I think Domitus is happier on his own two feet, Peroz,’ I said.
‘General Domitus does not like elephants?’ enquired Peroz.
‘He is a Roman, Peroz,’ said Gallia, ‘so he dislikes thrones. The Romans have no kings.’
Peroz looked horrified. ‘No kings? Then who rules them?’
‘They have what is called a republic,’ I answered, ‘in which the people elect their rulers.’
Peroz shook his head. ‘Most odd.’
Gafarn and Orodes met us five miles from Hatra’s eastern gates accompanied by the whole of Hatra’s royal bodyguard, which I was delighted to discover was led by Vistaspa. Looking a little gaunt and somewhat awkward in the saddle he was still an imposing figure.
‘It is good to see you on a horse again,’ I told him.
‘The leg has never healed properly,’ he replied, ‘but at least I can still ride.’
‘We will need you when we fight the Armenians,’ I said.
‘Yes, majesty,’ he replied flatly.
Gafarn seemed much happier than when I had left him and Orodes was his usual correct and charming self, making a great fuss of Peroz and enquiring after his father and brothers and making no mention of Carmania’s former hostility.
When we reached Hatra there was no longer a pall of despondency hanging over it. The streets were bustling, the markets busy and there were caravans on the roads both entering and leaving the city. People cheered our party as it wound its way towards the palace where it was met by a beaming Diana dressed in a long white gown, a glittering golden crown on her head. My mother, similarly attired in white, sported a diadem. In addition to Assur, Addu and Kogan, a small army of priests, lords, their wives and palace officials were standing to one side.
As stable hands took our horses I walked forward to embrace Diana and then my mother, who had regained some of her former vim but still looked a little drawn. I was pleased to discover that neither of my sisters was present but slightly surprised that Atrax was also not in attendance.
That night we were treated to a lavish feast at which I was introduced to an Armenian envoy! I initially thought it was one of Gafarn’s jokes but Orodes informed me that the man had been given a house in the city to facilitate negotiations between Parthia and Armenia.
‘We have agreed a fledgling peace treaty with Artavasdes,’ he replied.
I was dumbfounded. ‘Peace treaty?’
‘Yes, Pacorus, we are no longer at war with Armenia.’
Chapter 6
‘Peace treaty?’
The consumption of wine at the admittedly magnificent feast the night before had done nothing to deaden my sense of outrage concerning the accord that had been agreed behind my back while I had been dealing with Mithridates. I paced up and down in the spacious and well-appointed lounge in the palace’s private wing as Gafarn and Orodes looked at each other. The latter had convened the meeting after I had made it clear the night before that I strongly disapproved of the treaty. He had also asked my wife, Diana, Nergal, Praxima and Vistaspa to attend in an attempt, I believe, to make me see sense. It did not work.