‘He’s just a boy,’ I pleaded with Gallia, who wanted to hang him from the city walls.
‘No, he’s a young man who should know better. Viper is not much older than him yet she does not behave in such a manner. Do you think it is acceptable that men should treat my Amazons like slaves?’
‘You know I do not.’
Her eyes burned with fire. ‘Then don’t insult me.’
‘He saved my life once. All I am asking is that you allow me to do the same for him now. What he did was wrong, but I ask you to spare his life.’
I said no more and she still seethed, but at last relented. ‘I give you his life. But keep him away from my Amazons and me. If he transgresses once more then I will kill him myself, after Viper has castrated him.’
So Surena had a very lucky escape and he left with me for Media. I said goodbye to Gallia and my daughter in the Citadel on an overcast autumn morning. Domitus and Godarz were in attendance, and an unhappy Nergal stood beside Praxima, who I think was glad that her husband was staying by her side.
‘Now remember,’ I said to Godarz, ‘to send messages to the craftsmen who worked at Dura previously that they will be offered good wages if they return. We need them back in the armouries.’
He grabbed my arm. ‘I know, Pacorus. You have created a system at Dura that is efficient so let it work. You concentrate on staying alive.’
‘I will pray to Mars so that he will watch over you,’ said Domitus, his new scar adorning his arm.
I said my farewells to Nergal and Praxima and told Nergal that he was in command of the army in my absence. This delighted Praxima but seemed to be little comfort to Nergal.
‘I should be coming with you,’ was all he muttered.
I held Gallia and Claudia and kissed my wife on the lips. We did not exchange words; there was no need. If the worst happened we knew that we would be together again in the next life. Finally I came to Dobbai.
‘You think I go on a fool’s errand?’
‘I think you must stay true to yourself. Besides, there will be nothing happening here to keep you amused, no enemies for you to kill at Dura. Being an idle king does not suit you.’
‘I’ll take that to mean that you approve, then.’
‘Be gone, son of Hatra.’
I hoisted myself into the saddle, raised my hand to all those present and rode from the courtyard. Orodes was beside me with our twin banners fluttering directly behind. We rode through the city and met the waiting horsemen outside the Palmyrene Gate — a thousand riders, each one leading a spare mule loaded with fodder for his horse and food for himself. There was a rumble of distant thunder overhead and then a light rain began to fall as we began our journey to Farhad’s kingdom.
We moved at speed through southern Hatra, then swung north once we had crossed the Tigris and reached Media six days after leaving Dura. At the border of Farhad’s kingdom we were met by a small party of the king’s guard, mounted spearmen who were led by the commander of Farhad’s bodyguard, a dour, pale-skinned individual named Cretus. As we rode north at a gentle pace he informed me of events that had taken place in Media since I was last in the kingdom.
‘The Romans sent only small raiding parties into Media, thankfully.’
‘And Prince Atrax?’
‘Much improved. He is able to ride now and wanted to lead a retaliatory expedition against the Romans, but Princess Aliyeh persuaded him otherwise.’
I laughed. Cretus did not.
‘Your sister has great influence in the kingdom now, highness.’
‘Really?’
He nodded. ‘It was your sister who organised the defence of the city and vowed to stay there and die if necessary. It is rumoured that the king himself now seeks her advice before making any decision.’
I thought of the cool reception I had received from her the last time I was here. Hopefully, now that the Roman threat had abated, her disposition towards me would be better. I was wrong.
It was raining heavily when we reached Farhad’s capital, the city and all around drenched by a relentless downpour that soaked our cloaks. Our horses had their heads cast down as they trotted up the great ramp into the city’s stronghold, the raindrops having matted their manes to their necks. Inside the citadel, no longer thronged with refugees, we rode to the palace and there dismounted. Dripping wet, I and Orodes would have to pay our respects to the king while the rest of the men went to the barracks to unsaddle their horses and change into dry clothes. Water ran off roofs in great torrents, creating large puddles in the palace square. Guards stood wrapped in cloaks around the perimeter, their heads bowed down as the rain coursed off their helmets. A court official, accompanied by a servant who held a parasol over his head, led us through the palace to the throne room, our path marked by wet footprints on the stone slabs. Farhad was sitting on one of the thrones, Atrax beside him with his wife standing on Farhad’s other side. Farhad was nodding in satisfaction when we entered and Atrax was beaming; no emotion was visible on my sister’s face.
‘Hail Farhad,’ I said, halting before him and bowing my head. ‘I have returned, as I promised I would.’
Farhad stood up and embraced me, then Orodes, ignoring our sodden clothes.
‘Welcome Pacorus, welcome Orodes. Media is glad that you are here.’
Atrax jumped up and shook our hands, much to the consternation of Aliyeh.
‘We heard about your victory over the Romans. I wished I had been there.
I looked at my sister’s narrowing eyes. ‘So do I, Atrax.’ I stood back and acknowledged her.
‘Sister.’
‘Brother,’ she muttered without emotion.
That night we ate with the king and discussed our next actions. The rain had finally ceased and the night was clear and cool. A great fire burned in the feasting hall for it was late in the year and the temperature was dropping. The conversation had avoided the matter of Phraates ceding Dura to the Romans in exchange for Gordyene, but my sister could not resist goading me.
‘Why have you come to Media, Pacorus?’
‘We ride to Gordyene to hasten the Romans in their retreat.’
‘Do you look for a new kingdom, brother?’
Atrax was indignant. ‘Aliyeh!’
‘Why would I want a new kingdom? Dura is my home.’
‘We have heard that Dura has been given to the Romans.’
I smiled at her. ‘I heard that too. After I have dealt with the Romans in Gordyene, I will visit Ctesiphon to hear that decision from the mouth of Phraates himself.’
‘I cannot believe it to be true,’ Farhad was shaking his head.
‘I am the king of Dura,’ I said, ‘and as long as I live it will remain Parthian.’
‘Well said,’ shouted Atrax.
‘And does Gordyene also belong to you?’ queried my sister.
‘Of course not,’ I replied.
‘Then why do you take soldiers there?’
‘To ensure that the Romans leave, as I said.’
‘I doubt that they will leave now that they have been denied Dura,’ she sniffed.
I shrugged. ‘It is of no importance. They occupy Parthian territory and must be thrown out.’
My sister picked at pieces of roasted chicken and lamb in her jewel-inlaid eating bowl, avoiding my eyes. Farhad looked solemn while Atrax was grinning like a small child who has just been given a present.
‘Your invasion may provoke the Romans,’ said Aliyeh at length, ‘and it is Media that will suffer if they decide to retaliate against Parthia.’
Farhad cleared his throat. ‘Yes, indeed, we have already suffered grievously at their hands.’
In fact the Romans had not invaded Media or Atropaiene after Farhad’s ill-judged invasion of Gordyene, though only because they had been diverted by their campaigns in Hatra and Dura.
‘Have no fear, lord king,’ I said, ‘I shall be showing my own banner in Gordyene so the Romans will know who is visiting them.’
‘Mine too,’ added Orodes.