We continued our journey among the trees, the foliage growing denser as we followed a single track through the forest. After a while we began to climb and the sun lanced through openings in the forest canopy as we ascended to reach a wide expanse of lush mountain steppe and felt the wind on our faces once more. We crossed the steppe and then rode down a slope into thick forest once more. After half an hour we encountered a wide stream at the bottom of the valley and followed its course until we reached a clearing where a village stood.
From what I knew of the tribes that inhabited the Zagros they grew no crops but lived on what they caught in the rivers and forests and the animals they kept, as well as raiding the settlements of other tribes and Parthian farms and villages. The long Zagros winters combined with the rugged terrain meant that growing crops was impossible, so the herdsmen spent half their time living in goat-hair tents on the high pasture lands grazing their sheep and goats, and the rest of the time in these lowland villages. The chieftains and their subordinates had a marginally better time in that they stayed all-year round in the villages.
Gourlay dismounted as a group of burly men approached him led by one I assumed was the village chief. They were all dressed in loose-fitting green woollen tunics that extended down to their knees, with baggy brown leggings and crude boots. They carried a mixture of spears and axes, though only the chief had a sword that hung in a scabbard from his brown leather belt. He had long light brown hair, a thick beard and, most unusually, blue eyes that now fixed on me as he looked up at me.
‘It is considered polite for a guest to dismount when meeting his host.’ His voice was calm and polite.
I smiled and slid off Remus’ back to stand before him. He was taller and broader than me, though I noticed that his hands were not like the paws of a bear but were slender with long fingers.
I bowed my head to him. ‘I thank you for agreeing to see me and hope that my visit will be of benefit to us both.’
‘That remains to be seen,’ he replied. ‘I am Zand, leader of the Sagartian people and I welcome you to my village, King Pacorus.’
I could tell from the expression on Spartacus’ face that we were a long way from the well-appointed palace at Susa and its luxurious royal stables. He dismounted and stood with a look of disgust on his face as half-naked infants ran around him as we were shown to our quarters.
‘Look happy,’ I said to him, ‘your face is showing contempt.’
‘These people stink,’ he remarked with disdain.
He was right: the place reeked of animal and human dung and sweat. ‘Think of Rasha to take your mind off it.’
The village was made up of round and rectangular wooden-framed huts with thatched roofs of varying size, and animal pens for sheep and goats alongside them. Our ‘quarters’ consisted of a round hut that had a crude stable beside it, in truth nothing more than a pen with a thatched roof. A fire had been lit inside the hut to warm it that also had the unfortunate effect of filling it with smoke, which was supposed to exit via the hole in the centre of the roof. The floor was covered in animal skins and the entrance was also covered with skins.
‘This is cosy,’ remarked Domitus after we had unsaddled our horses and carried the saddles inside the hut.
Like the other dwellings in the village the walls were made up of wattles — interwoven branches made weather resistant with daub, a mixture of mud, straw and animal dung.
‘It is like a stable,’ said Spartacus, dumping his saddle on the ground.
‘I would readily exchange it for a stall in Dura’s stables.’ I said, ‘but needs must. At least we don’t have to sleep with meat hanging from the ceiling rafters.’
Spartacus looked at me with surprise. ‘Meat?’
‘Just as we cure meat, so these people hang meat from the rafters so the smoke from the fire cures it. All very practical.’
‘All very uncivilised,’ he replied.
‘What about you, Scarab?’ I asked, ‘what do you think of our lodgings?’
‘They will suffice, majesty.’
Spartacus rolled his eyes as he bent down and lifted one of the animal skins to discover how many insects he would be sharing his bed with.
We may have been guests but Zand posted two guards outside the hut’s entrance and another two to watch our horses, though this may have been to deter any thieves, or at least that is what I liked to think. After we had placed the food and fodder in the hut we went back outside to groom the horses and check their shoes and hooves. Looking around I could see a large rectangular hut that I took to be the chief’s home, in addition to food stores and warehouses. There was also an open-fronted smithy where two squat bearded men were hammering iron on an anvil. I wondered how many such villages Zand controlled and how many people his tribe numbered, many thousands if the numbers that were arrayed against us at the Battle of Susa was anything to go by. I clutched the leather bag that contained the gold that was slung over my shoulder. Hopefully its contents would be proof of my good faith. Then again, it might get all our throats slit. I was about to find out just how civilised or not the hill men of the Zagros Mountains were.
In honour of our arrival at the village a feast was held in Zand’s long hut where we were seated on benches arranged around the walls. Women served us roasted mutton and chicken. They filled cups with milk, wine that tasted of vinegar and an equally foul-tasting alcoholic beverage made from fermented mare’s milk. I sat next to Zand on one bench, flanked by his warriors, while Domitus and my two squires were accommodated at another bench. The hut was filled with smoke that made my eyes smart. It came from the great fire that burned in the centre on the earth floor, over which fresh meat was roasting on spits. I noticed Zand drank very little while his warriors got roaring drunk and tried to grope the female servants, who seemed to like being mauled by the stinking oafs.
The Sagartians largely ignored Domitus and my squires but the women brought them wooden platters heaped with meat and ensured their cups were always full. Domitus kept looking at the entrance where his sword and dagger lay on the floor, along with everyone else’s weapons. Only Zand, the chief, was permitted to carry weapons in his hut, which was probably a sensible precaution as a group of ill-disciplined, drunken warriors armed to the teeth was a certain recipe for bloodshed.
Zand tore at a piece of meat with his teeth, the juices dripping onto his hand.
‘You wish to buy some of my warriors, King Pacorus of Dura?’
I nodded. ‘I will pay you gold for them.’
He glanced at me with narrowed eyes. ‘The last Parthian king who wanted the Sagartians to fight for him promised the same but paid me nothing,’ he said bitterly. ‘Why should I believe or trust you?’
‘For one thing, I have come to your village in person to signal that I trust you and wish to deal with you face to face.’
I reached into the bag that was slung over my shoulder and pulled out a small ingot of gold. I placed it on the bench before him.
‘Secondly, I bring gold as an act of good faith.’
He put down the meat on his platter, wiped his hand on his tunic and picked up the ingot, belched and examined it. He passed it to Gourlay who sat on his left and who turned it over in his hand.
‘How many of my warriors do you wish to take back with you to your kingdom?’ he asked.
‘Two thousand.’
He sat back in his chair and stared at the raging fire before him. ‘Why does a great Parthian warlord wish to hire Sagartian warriors, and so few? We have heard of your name in these parts, of the Parthian king who rides a white horse and leads a terrible army that has never been beaten. Tell me, King Pacorus of Dura, how many of my people did you slaughter in the Valley of Susa?’
Gourlay passed the ingot back to his lord as the din in the hut subsided and Zand’s warriors nudged each other and turned to look at me. I suddenly felt decidedly uneasy. I glanced at Domitus who was frowning severely and also looking at his sword and dagger, no doubt wondering if he could reach them before any of Zand’s warriors stopped him.