‘Put her on a bed so I can examine her properly, and get these oafs to leave, all of them. The air is foul in here.’
Domitus ushered everyone out while I carried Gallia to a cot in the corner. I gently laid her down and Alcaeus waved me away.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ I asked feebly.
‘If you give me some room and stop asking stupid questions, I will try to find out. Wait outside.’
I obeyed his command and stood for what seemed like an eternity outside the tent. A grim-faced Domitus and Nergal looked at the ground while the lords looked at each other and then me, concern etched on their hard faces. Word spread of what had happened and within no time a great crowd had gathered around us — cataphracts, Amazons and legionaries, all standing in silence and unsure what to do.
Then the tent flap opened and Alcaeus walked out into the light. He pointed at me.
‘You can go in and see her now. Only you mind.’
‘Will she be all right, doctor?’ I asked.
He looked at me and screwed up his face. ‘Yes, if you get her back to Dura. She should never have left. What were you thinking?’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Really? Then let me spell it out for you. Bringing your pregnant wife on campaign is the height of idiocy. For a great warlord Pacorus, sometimes you have the intellect of a mule.’
With that he stalked off, pushing his way through the throng. Domitus slapped me hard on the back, while Nergal clasped my forearm. Praxima threw her arms round me and kissed me on the cheek, while the others started cheering. I was going to be a father. Alcaeus stormed back and ordered me to disperse the crowd of well-wishers as they were disturbing Gallia. I did so and then crept into the tent. She was sitting up in the cot with cushions supporting her, some colour having at last returned to her cheeks.
I held her hand and kissed it. ‘Why did you not tell me?’
‘I suspected but was not certain. I’m sorry.’
‘Nonsense, I am truly happy.’ I handed her cup of water from the small table beside the cot. ‘Alcaeus is angry with me for bringing you on campaign.’
‘It’s not your fault, I wanted to be by your side.’
I knelt over and kissed her on the lips. ‘I know, but it’s back to Dura for you now.’
She was going to protest, but her condition and present exhaustion made her think twice and so she said nothing and fell asleep with me sitting on the side of the cot, gently brushing her forehead with my fingers.
The next day I summoned Praxima to my tent and told her that she and Gallia would be riding back to Dura forthwith, and that I would brook no argument. After changing and eating a hearty breakfast of fruit, salted pork and biscuit, Gallia stepped out into the morning light. Domitus embraced her and showed her a colour party of his legionaries, all washed and arrayed in their finest white tunics and shiny helmets. Nergal gave her the captured elephant standard of Porus as a gift, which she said she would take back to Dura to hang in the throne room. When word spread that she was leaving the army, each of the lords asked permission to escort her back to the city. Had I accepted I would have lost all my cavalry, so I had them draw lots to choose the winner, who turned out to be a one-eyed rascal named Spandarat. He was squat, barrel-chested and had arms as thick as tree trunks and hands the size of a bear’s paws.
‘Don’t you worry, majesty,’ he told me as he stood at the head of his two hundred men, ‘I’ll get her back to the city all right, and be back before you’ve had chance to slit any more throats.’
‘Thank you, Spandarat, I look forward to fighting by your side once more.’
He leaned forward in his saddle and stroked the neck of his horse, an old warrior like him, but as hard as tempered steel. ‘I had my doubts about you, especially after we had to put up with that other arrogant young bastard Mithridates, but I have to tell you that I was wrong. Never seen elephants panic like that. Your man, there,’ he pointed at Domitus, ‘knows what he’s doing.’
‘Yes he does,’ I said.
Gallia was mounted on Epona at the head of her Amazons, Praxima beside her. Nergal kissed his wife and bade her a safe journey, and I walked over and stood next to Gallia. ‘Now, when you get back to Dura make sure you have plenty of rest and food. You are eating for two now.’
‘Yes, father,’ she replied.
I waved her forward with my hand. She bent down and I kissed her on the lips.
‘I love you.’
She smiled that most beautiful smile of hers. ‘I love you too, and take care of yourself. Don’t do anything idiotic.’
‘A charm,’ I said, ‘I need a charm.’
‘What?’
‘I need a lock of your hair.’
She took her dagger from the top of her boot and grabbed her long, thick plait that hung down her back, then cut off some strands of her hair and handed them to me. Then she took her helmet from Praxima, put it and tied the cheekguards shut. She commanded Epona to walk forward and then led the column of three hundred riders down the camp’s main avenue and then north to Dura. I stood watching them until they were tiny specs on the horizon and then disappeared altogether. It was the first time Gallia had left my side in over three years. Yet I had no time to dwell on my loss, for that same afternoon Malik and Byrd returned to camp bringing a most unexpected gift. They were both dirty and unshaven and their horses needed a good groom. They halted in front of my tent and Malik dumped the body of a dead man at my feet.
‘Behold, Pacorus, I bring you King Porus.’
I looked down at the mangled body, covered in filth and dried black blood. Glazed, lifeless eyes stared into the sky, and though I thought I recognised the traces of the neatly trimmed moustache I could not be sure as the face had been cut and bludgeoned. But I did recognise the yellow shirt and red leather gloves that still encased his hands.
I looked up at the tattooed face of Malik. ‘Did you kill him?’
He nodded. ‘We caught up with him and his entourage and then charged them. They put up a fight at first, but my men made short work of them. We killed them all, none escaped.’
‘We also found these,’ said Byrd, who reached into his tunic and threw a parcel of parchments on the ground. I picked them up and examined them. They included messages from Narses to Porus and vice-versa.
I nodded at Byrd. ‘Excellent, well done. Get some food inside you and your horses seen to. Good to have you both back.’
‘What do you want to do with that?’ asked Domitus, pointing at the corpse with his cane.
‘Cut off the head, stick it on a pole and place it outside the camp’s main entrance. Give the rest to the pigs.’
The army of Hatra arrived the next day, fifteen hundred cataphracts and nine thousand horse archers led by my father and Vistaspa. The horsemen established their camp two miles upstream from us while my father and Vistaspa paid me a visit. I had the legion parade in battle array in front of the camp, flanked by my own cataphracts and the horse archers of my lords. Afterwards I gave a feast in their honour in my tent. Domitus sat next to Vistaspa and told him about the defeat of Porus and his elephants, while my father congratulated me on my victory.
‘It was not my victory, father, but the knowledge of Domitus that decided the day.’
My father raised his cup of wine to my general. ‘My congratulations. This will allow us to march to Ctesiphon and relieve Phraates.’
‘We have heard of another force of rebels marching south towards Babylon and Mesene,’ I said.
‘Then we must deal with them first,’ replied my father.
He and his army had passed Gallia and her retinue on her way back to Dura. ‘By the way, Pacorus, congratulations on your approaching fatherhood. Your mother will be pleased to be a grandmother at last.’