I stood before the dais, Khosrou on my right and Musa on my left, Atrax and Orodes completing the line. All chatter died away as we bowed our heads to Phraates. Aruna displayed her usual icy beauty, though Phraates looked withered and withdrawn, bewildered even. He waved his hand at us but his eyes were blank and his stare vacant. I wondered if he was drugged.
‘Welcome to Ctesiphon.’ Phraates’ voice was feeble.
There was an awkward silence. Courtiers looked at each other and the queen’s serpent-like eyes fixed me. I decided to grasp the cobra by the neck.
‘Lord king, I have come to your court to seek clarity on a most pressing issue.’
Phraates’ brow furrowed. ‘Issue?’
‘Yes, highness, for I have heard that you have traded my kingdom for Gordyene. If so, I have to report that the Romans have not evacuated Gordyene. I know, for I was there not long ago.’
Phraates looked alarmed and cast his eyes down. Musa then spoke.
‘What King Pacorus says is true, great one. I and King Khosrou were forced to defend our realms again these Romans who wandered uninvited into our domains.’
‘And why was this so, King Musa?’ asked Mithridates.
Musa frowned. ‘Why? Because they sent soldiers into my kingdom, that is why.’
Mithridates nodded gravely. ‘But surely, lord king, if they had not been provoked they would not have strayed into your kingdom.’
The queen was nodding. I knew where this was leading.
‘The fact is,’ continued Mithridates, ‘that King Pacorus’ ill-judged adventure provoked the Romans into retaliating.’
‘Are we to let Rome dictate to us?’ I asked. ‘Are its armies free to roam at will throughout the empire, to burn and loot with impunity?’
‘Of course not,’ said Phraates, looking at me, some fire in his eyes at last, ‘but you have provoked them as my son says, Pacorus. It is a most disagreeable situation.’
‘You should demand that the Romans retreat from Gordyene, great one,’ said Musa.
Mithridates smiled. ‘Alas, we are not in a position to demand. The recent civil war has weakened the empire.’
Musa turned on Mithridates. ‘I was not addressing you. Be silent.’
For once Mithridates was lost for words, though his mother was not.
‘Is that how you speak in the presence of the King of Kings, Musa?’ Her voice was filled with venom. Musa ignored her and glared at Mithridates.
‘I must ask again, highness,’ I said, ‘if these rumours of the agreement to trade Dura for Gordyene are true.’
‘Well,’ muttered Phraates, ‘you must understand, Pacorus, that our position was and is most delicate.’
‘The answer is yes,’ spat Mithridates, ‘Dura was ceded to the Romans in exchange for the return of Gordyene to the empire.’
I felt a surge of anger course through me. So my kingdom had been traded like a cheap trinket in the marketplace. In that moment any respect I might have had for Phraates evaporated. He was beneath contempt, while his son and mother were not even worthy of thought.
‘Dura is my kingdom,’ I said slowly, ‘and none may decide its fate except its king.’
‘Except that it is not your kingdom,’ said Mithridates.
‘What?’
Mithridates turned and ordered the portly man who had been standing behind him to step forward. He had pale skin and a wispy light brown beard, with small piggy eyes that darted left and right nervously. He held his effeminate hands in front of his body, his fingers short and puffy.
‘This is Ashlen,’ continued Mithridates, ‘my father’s chancellor and considered something of a legal expert when it comes to the affairs of the empire.’
My patience was fast running out. ‘Is there any point to this?’
Mithridates sneered at me. ‘Ashlen, explain to “King” Pacorus the legal status of Dura.’
Ashlen shuffled forward a few more steps. ‘Well,’ his voice was slightly high pitched, ‘the lands on the western bank of the Euphrates, that were and are administered by the city of Dura, have always been part of the Kingdom of Susiana, not a separate kingdom per se.’ He looked at Mithridates.
‘Please continue, Ashlen,’ said Mithridates.
‘Yes, well, Dura was technically a region that was used by the Great Sinatruces as a place of exile for undesirable elements.’
‘What point is this idiot trying to make?’ I said in exasperation.
‘The point,’ retorted Mithridates, ‘is that my grandfather gave you Dura, which at the time was actually part of my father’s kingdom, that is, Susiana. That being the case, he is only too pleased to exchange it for Gordyene.’
This was ludicrous. ‘And what of the thousands of Parthians who inhabit Dura and the thousands more who live on its lands.’
Mithridates held out his hands. ‘What of them? They were sent there in the first place because the empire did not want them. Thieves and beggars, most of them. I should know, I had the misfortune of ruling over them for a while.’
Mithridates stood with a smirk on his face, while the courtiers and the queen’s ladies looked down their noses at me.
‘So be it,’ I announced. ‘But I will defend my kingdom and all those who live in it, legality or no.’
Mithridates guffawed. ‘Dura is tiny. What chance will you and it stand when the Romans send a larger army against you, standing all alone against their host of legions?’
‘Not alone,’ it was the first time that Khosrou had spoken. ‘Pacorus is my friend and I will stand by him, even if others will not.’
‘As will I,’ announced Musa.
‘And I,’ said Orodes.
‘Media also stands with Dura,’ said Atrax.
Mithridates looked alarmed, as did Phraates. They may not have cared about me, but when a ruler such as Khosrou spoke men listened. It was rumoured that he could raise an army of a hundred thousand men, and Margiana was a power that could certainly make the empire tremble.
Phraates rose from his throne, his face gaunt and pale. ‘Musa and Khosrou, we do not wish to stir your anger, but we must bring Gordyene back into the empire.’
‘Then take it back, high king,’ replied Khosrou, ‘for you have only to give the word and my army is at your disposal.’
Phraates managed a wry smile and then sat back down. ‘There is no point in shedding an ocean of blood when a mere document will achieve our aims.’
‘Lord king,’ said Khosrou, ‘you cannot sacrifice Dura just for the sake of averting war.’
‘Cannot?’ snapped Mithridates, ‘my father is the King of Kings.’
Khosrou turned on Mithridates. ‘I was not addressing you, boy.’
‘Mithridates is a king like you,’ said the queen.
‘Not like me, lady,’ said Khosrou, ‘for I do not crawl on my belly as he does.’
I laughed and the hall erupted in anger, courtiers jabbing their fingers at Khosrou and the queen’s ladies chattering in alarm like a gaggle of geese. The guards around the hall moved menacingly towards us. Eventually Mithridates raised his hands to still the commotion.
‘King Khosrou, we are all friends here, or should be.’
Khosrou was unmoved. ‘Friends do not abandon each other.’
‘I must have Gordyene back,’ said Phraates.
‘Then take it back, highness,’ I said. ‘Dura’s army is at your disposal.’
‘No,’ for once Phraates’ voice was firm. ‘You have caused too much war, Pacorus. You are no longer welcome at Ctesiphon.’
He waved to the guards who levelled their spears and moved to circle me. So it had come to this — all the blood that my men had shed keeping Phraates on his throne and now I was being treated like an outcast, a common criminal. In that moment I despised Phraates and his whole family. No, not his whole family; for as I bowed and then turned to walk from the hall, Orodes accompanied me.
Phraates stood up once more. ‘Those who leave with Pacorus will likewise be unwelcome here.’
‘Orodes,’ said Mithridates, ‘would you turn your back on your family?’
‘I have no family,’ he replied, marching beside me.
Seconds later I was joined by Khosrou, Atrax and Musa. Outside the palace we collected our horses and rode from Ctesiphon to our camp pitched ten miles north of the palace. I never saw Phraates again.