‘Thank you, lord,’ I said. ‘Your hospitality is most generous.’
He nodded and smiled. ‘It is not often that we have a hero of Parthia in these parts, isn’t that right, Khosrou?’
I heard another groan and put down my bowl. I beckoned over a servant proffering a cup, and then ordered a second to fill it with wine. Another groan. I took a large gulp.
‘Pacorus does not approve of our eating arrangements, I think,’ said Khosrou, a small grin creasing his lean face.
Musa pushed a handful of meat into his mouth. ‘In their haste to catch up with you, the Romans gave no thought to the lands they were crossing. I cannot have armed bands roaming freely in my kingdom. What sort of king would that make me?’
‘A weak one,’ said Khosrou, his eyes still on me.
‘Exactly,’ retorted Musa, eating more meat. ‘And I deal harshly with bandits in my kingdom, as I’m sure you do in yours.’
‘Margiana and Hyrcania have an alliance,’ said Khosrou, ‘so I was more than glad to lend my friend Musa assistance.’
‘To cut a long story short,’ continued Musa, ‘my men scattered the Romans and took some prisoners. They lie underneath us. And I have sent a message to Rome that I will not tolerate any incursions into my kingdom.’
My appetite did not return, though I warmed to their company. Musa was gruff and plain speaking, while Khosrou was more measured in his talk. He had eyes like a hawk and missed nothing. As we talked at least the groaning beneath me ceased.
‘I must apologise for my unannounced entry into your kingdom, lord,’ I said to Musa. ‘I meant no offence.’
‘And none was take,’ replied Musa.
‘Though we did wonder why you were so far from home,’ added Khosrou.
So I told them about my promise to Farhad and my expedition into Gordyene. Of how we had battled the Romans and then had been pursued by them.
‘I believed that the Roman garrison in Gordyene was smaller than it was. I was wrong,’ I said.
‘We have heard that the Romans have been reinforcing their forces in Gordyene,’ said Khosrou, ‘not reducing them as they promised Phraates.’
‘So you know about the agreement between Phraates and the Romans,’ I said.
Musa nodded. ‘Of course, we are well aware of the machinations at Ctesiphon.’
Khosrou pointed a finger at me. ‘You should have killed Mithridates and Narses when you had the chance. It will harder for you to do so now.’
I also told them about the agreement between my father and Narses concerning the latter giving up his claim to be King of Kings in exchange for the crown of Sakastan. Even Khosrou smiled at this.
‘Clever, very clever. At a stroke Narses becomes ruler of the largest kingdom in the empire.’
‘That is what I told my father,’ I replied, ‘but he would not listen.’
‘He had no choice,’ mused Khosrou, ‘not with the Romans at his throat and Narses and his army nearby. How’s your woman?’
The mood suddenly changed as I told them about Gallia and my new daughter, of how she had defended Dura against the Romans while I had been away from the city.
Musa interrupted me. ‘We heard that you used her and your child as bait for the Romans to take.’
‘No, lord, that is untrue. I told her to seek refuge in Hatra but she ignored me.’
‘Your reputation increased greatly when the story spread. Pacorus the Pitiless is your name in these parts,’ said Khosrou with approval.
‘And what will you do now?’ asked Musa, holding out his cup for a servant to fill.
‘Go to Ctesiphon,’ I replied, ‘so that I may hear from Phraates himself of the agreement he made with the Romans.’
Khosrou exchanged glances with Musa. ‘We are coming with you. Affairs in the empire need settling.’
The two kings did not take their armies south to Ctesiphon, their royal bodyguards, their wagons and spare horses sufficing as escorts. The combined royal retinues still numbered over four thousand men, plus my own party of five hundred, now refreshed and re-equipped. My helmet had been repaired and once again it sported a crest of white goose feathers. Remus had a new saddle and iron shoes and his constitution had benefited greatly from a plentiful supply of good fodder. I rode beside Khosrou and Musa, with Atrax and Orodes immediately behind, followed by the royal standards. Musa sent couriers ahead requesting passage through Atropaiene, which was freely given by Aschek. Indeed, he himself insisted that we journey via his capital. He was a much-changed man since the last time I had seen him, with dark-rimmed eyes and sunken cheeks. He looked as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. The defeat at the hands of the Romans had obviously shaken him to the core, but he seemed genuinely glad to see us and even smiled when Musa informed him that he would fight to preserve the territorial integrity of his own kingdom and that of Atropaiene. And when Khosrou said that he too would lend Atropaiene assistance if required, Aschek was temporarily relieved of his black mood. But gloom and despondency hung over his palace like low cloud, and I could tell that the fight had been knocked out of him.
‘You should have taken your whole army into Gordyene, Pacorus.’
‘It needed rest and replenishment after our fight with the Romans,’ I replied.
He shoulders slumped. ‘Is there no end to these Romans?’
Ctesiphon — grand, sprawling, slightly ramshackle and decadent. The first time I had visited the royal residence it had been a centre of power. The aged Sinatruces had maintained its defences and garrison, had kept the numbers of his courtiers and staff at a minimum, and had not abused the office of King of Kings. I had seen him in his autumn years when his body was feeble and giving up on him, but his mind was still sharp to the end. He knew that empires crumble from within, and had sought to keep the petty jealousies and ambitions of the empire’s kings in check. When he first became King of Kings he had done this by force, leading armies to crush his enemies and laying waste their lands to set an example. His reputation was fierce, but he was also a fair ruler who forgave his truly repentant enemies and never bore a grudge. He stamped down on any signs of treachery ruthlessly, however, and was careful not to abuse his high rank. In return the kings gave him obedience and the empire flourished. Above all, Sinatruces was a good judge of character. How different was his son.
Ctesiphon was now a place of catamites, whores and debauchery. Incense filled our nostrils as soon as we entered the palace, its corridors filled with gaudily dressed courtiers and their capricious wives. Men walked arm-in-arm with other men while eunuchs with shaved heads and dark make-up around their eyes regarded us warily. Even the guards looked decadent, dressed as they were in red boots, bright yellow baggy leggings and tops with bright red felt caps on their heads. They carried wicker shields painted white and carried spears with brightly polished blades.
‘They wouldn’t last five minutes on the battlefield,’ Khosrou mumbled to me in disgust.
The throne room had undergone a transformation since the last time I was here. There were several throne rooms in the palace but this was the largest. Under Sinatruces they had always been sombre, foreboding places designed to intimidate guests, but now their purpose was to awe visitors. The stone pillars had been cased in gold leaf and the walls had been painted white. White marble tiles covered the whole of the floor, while the royal dais was covered with small red tiles. Phraates and his queen sat side-by-side on the dais, with Mithridates hovering like a vulture on the high king’s left and a portly court official standing behind the King of Susiana. A group of beautiful, haughty women dressed in expensive white robes and dripping with gold jewellery stood next to the dais near the queen, while clustered around the great columns were groups of courtiers.