I was shocked. I had never heard him talk with so much pessimism before. But if the worst happened and Media and Atropaiene fell, then Hatra would face two great armies in the east, a hostile Armenia to the north and perhaps another enemy to the south, for Babylon was still in peril.
‘I would like to stay and assist you, father, but I must try to help Axsen. If Babylon falls then so will Mesene, and after that…’
He smiled thinly. ‘I know. Mithridates and Narses have played their hands well. They stand on the brink of victory. What happened here today will not matter if Babylon, Media and Atropaiene all fall.
‘For myself, I must march east to assist Farhad and Aschek.’
I tried to be positive. ‘The game is not yet up, father. If you can prevail with Media and Atropaiene and I can relieve Babylon then…’
‘Then we are back in exactly the same position we were in at the beginning of the year. There can now never be peace between Mithridates and us. It is a war to the death. Well, so be it. I have tried to walk the path of peace and diplomacy, to respect the office of the king of kings as in the old days. And my reward? To see my kingdom threatened.’
He rested his hands on the wall and cast his head down.
‘I did not know that the death of Sinatruces would presage so much misery and tyranny.’
I said nothing. Perhaps he was thinking back to the Council of Kings at Esfahan and his decision to support Phraates in becoming king of kings. Perhaps he was regretting not putting himself forward for the high crown. But then, Mithridates and Narses would have still schemed to promote their own interests. Perhaps we would have been in exactly the same situation as we currently found ourselves in. In front of us the funeral pyres burned brightly and above us the gods laughed at our discomfort.
We stayed at Assur for a few more days to allow the men to rest and the wounded to recuperate. During this time Herneus and his troops rode back to the city after their pursuit of Cinnamus and Vologases. He reported that the two kings had beat a hasty retreat east in the direction of Ecbatana, leaving a host of stragglers and wounded behind them. These he had destroyed but he had been unable to engage the main enemy army, only its fleeing rear guard. He reported that the enemy had left a trail of devastation in Media, burning villages and massacring their inhabitants, sometimes hanging their mutilated bodies from trees to spread terror. He had encountered no living Median who could tell him if Farhad was alive or not. My father sat grim faced in the main hall of the governor’s palace listening to Herneus’ report, and afterwards sent word to Hatra for Gafarn to march with thirty thousand horsemen to Assur. He told me that he was going to march to Farhad’s capital, Irbil, to relieve the King of Media. No one said anything about Aschek but everyone feared the worst and assumed that he was dead and his kingdom conquered by the combined armies of Yueh-Chih and Aria.
The next day my mood lightened when a letter came from Gallia informing me that Axsen was still holding out at Babylon (she had obviously been alerted to the city’s peril) and Nergal had thrown back the forces of King Phriapatius from the walls of Uruk with the aid of Lord Yasser and his Agraci warriors. Phriapatius was still occupying parts of Mesene but had withdrawn his army to the Tigris. I showed my father the letter and his spirits seemed to lift a little. She finished by saying that the border with Roman Syria was quiet.
‘That may change,’ he said, handing me back the letter, ‘when the Armenians begin to complain to their masters about their recent differences with Parthia and they learn that conflict has again broken out within the empire.’
I was more worried about the Romans discovering that Dura was supplying the Jews with weapons with which to liberate Judea, but said nothing of this to him.
‘With the Romans quarrelling among themselves, father,’ I tried to reassure him. ‘I think Mithridates presents more of an immediate threat.’
In camp I sat with Domitus, Orodes and Kronos as we tried to work out our course of action. The city of Babylon lies just over two hundred miles south of Assur — ten days’ march following the course of the Tigris and then heading southwest for the final thirty miles of the journey. Orodes was all for reaching Babylon by the most direct route, which was understandable considering that his future bride was trapped inside it. Domitus and Kronos, however, argued that it would be best to follow the Tigris until we reached Hatra’s southern border — one hundred miles south — and then swing west to the Euphrates and there link up with reinforcements that Gallia could send from Dura. In this way, they argued, we would have more men with which to relieve Babylon. However, it would add another five or six days to the journey.
‘Babylon is surely hard pressed,’ argued Orodes. ‘The longer we delay reaching it the more likely it will fall.’
‘I do not doubt it, my friend,’ said Domitus, ‘but Dura’s army is only fourteen thousand men. What if Mithridates has an army the same size as the one that we fought a few days ago?’
‘What Domitus says is correct,’ added Kronos. ‘We need reinforcements if we are to relieve Babylon. There is no point in fighting our way through to the city if then we are also trapped inside.’
‘I cannot believe that Narses and Mithridates have mustered a hundred thousand men to besiege Babylon,’ I said, not knowing if they had or not, ‘so we will march directly to Babylon.’
Orodes appeared mightily relieved and Domitus and Kronos looked at me with confusion on their faces. But I merely smiled at them. Orodes had been a good friend and had remained with the army when he could have ridden to Babylon before the Battle of Makhmur, but he had stayed. The least I could do now was to ride with him to save his beloved Axsen.
Chapter 13
The march south along the Tigris was uneventful until we approached Hatra’s southern border and began to encounter groups of fleeing civilians making their way north to safety, or what they thought was safety. The first to encounter them was Byrd and Malik and their men, who stopped to talk with these frightened wretches who had lost their homes and livestock, their only possessions being the clothes on their backs. It soon became clear that Mithridates was not only laying siege to the city of Babylon, he and Narses were systematically destroying the kingdom’s agriculture and either forcing its population to leave or enslaving them. The ones Byrd and Malik had encountered on the road were the lucky ones for they had heard rumours of horsemen attacking villages further south and carrying off their populations, so they had fled for their lives, seeking sanctuary in Hatra.
When we progressed further south into Babylonian territory we saw for ourselves the destruction that had been visited on the kingdom — villages levelled, irrigation ditches and canals wrecked and livestock taken, no doubt to feed the army besieging Babylon. An eerie silence hung over the land that had seemingly been emptied of all life. If the enemy had laid waste to the whole kingdom in such a manner then it would take years before Babylon recovered. Orodes was appalled at the scenes that met his eyes. It not only offended his sense of decency but also his code of honour. This was not how war should be fought, not at all.
‘Ha! You need to spend a few years in the Roman army to learn how war should be fought,’ said Domitus as we relaxed in my tent after another day marching in the dust and heat of a Mesopotamian summer. We had covered a hundred miles since leaving Assur and were nearly halfway on our journey to Babylon.
‘Lucky for Babylon,’ continued Domitus, ‘that Mithridates and Narses don’t have siege engines like the Romans do; otherwise its population would be being marched off into slavery by now.’
Orodes shuddered at the thought of his beloved in chains.
‘Only Dura among Parthia’s kingdoms has siege engines,’ I said, trying to allay Orodes’ growing concern.