Assur cleared his throat loudly and glared at her. Vistaspa, meanwhile, was leaning back in his chair and rubbing his chin with his right hand. He was also looking at Gallia, but was that admiration in those cold, black eyes? I thought it might be.
My father raised his hands. ‘Thank you, daughter, for your most eloquent words. But we must move on. My point is this: you are both going into a most uncertain, perhaps dangerous, situation and I want you to think hard about what you are about to undertake.’
‘I will go to Dura,’ Gallia’s words were like arrows shot from a bow.
‘Where you go, I follow,’ I said.
My father merely nodded. ‘Well, then, it is settled. To more practical matters. I have arranged for Addu to issue two million drachmas from the treasury, enough money to pay each man of your legion for a year. They may serve you now for ideological or religious reasons, but eventually even fanatics need food in their bellies.’
I was astounded. It was a huge sum.
‘You are most generous, lord,’ Gallia’s words were sincere and she bowed her head at my father, who smiled at her. Addu fidgeted in his chair.
‘You have something to say, Lord Addu?’ queried my father.
Addu, gaunt with thinning brown hair, cleared his throat. ‘I would merely wish to point out, majesty, that the treasury will miss such a generous amount.’
When my father selected Addu to be the royal treasurer it was an inspired choice. He was truly a man who knew the value of everything and the worth of nothing, an individual who had a large parsimonious streak coursing through him. He believed that taxes and customs duties were for one purpose only — to fill the treasury. But while he was happy to see great amounts of money pour into the treasury, he was loath to see any going out. He viewed any expenditure as frivolous waste, especially any resources spent on the army. He could see the value of Kogan’s garrison, though only if his soldiers were protecting the treasury, but to him all other expenditure was a waste of valuable resources.
‘Is not the money mine, to do with as I see fit?’ asked my father casually.
‘Of course, of course, majesty,’ Addu’s voice became even higher pitched. ‘I was merely pointing out that Hatra may need such a sum in the future.’
Vistaspa looked up and fixed Addu with his black eyes. ‘Are you saying that I will have more money to spend on the army, Addu?’
Addu looked alarmed. The conversation was not going the way he wanted, not at all. ‘No, no, no. Of course not. The expenditure on the army is already exorbitant. I fear that if we spend any more on it the result could be the city’s bankruptcy.’
This was nonsense, and Addu knew it.
My father sighed. ‘Lord Addu, Hatra is strong because her army is strong, you know this. The army ensures peace and peace means trade, which means crops grow, taxes are collected and customs duties are charged on caravans that pass through Hatra’s territory. In the same way, a strong Dura,’ he nodded at me, ‘means that Hatra’s western frontier is secure, so money spent on promoting that security is an investment in Hatra’s future, do you not agree?’
Addu did not, of course, but he merely smiled and politely bowed his head to my father.
‘Good, that’s settled, then. Pacorus, when do you leave?’
‘In a week, father.’
‘Then may Shamash protect you both.’
‘May He indeed,’ said Assur, eyeing Gallia warily. All nodded gravely in response.
The meeting concluded, all went their separate ways to attend to their duties. Assur stomped past Gallia and me without saying anything; clearly still angry at the way he had been spoken to.
‘He is arrogant,’ hissed Gallia.
‘He, my love, is the high priest of the Great Temple and a man who is used to others listening to him. He is wise and severe.’
‘And full of himself,’ she sniffed. ‘How much is two million drachmas?’
‘More than enough to pay five thousand soldiers for a year.’
The drachma was the currency within the Parthian Empire. A soldier was paid on average a drachma a day, so I would have enough to pay the legion and buy some weapons to equip them with. It was a good start.
Addu passed Gallia and bowed to her, then scuttled back to his tally sheets and ledgers. My father joined us and we walked to the gardens.
‘Thank you, father, for the money.’
‘It was your mother’s idea, she thought it inappropriate for a prince of Hatra to be unable to pay his soldiers.’
‘Will not the taxes of Dura be able to pay for his men?’ queried Gallia.
‘Perhaps, daughter, but five thousand men is a lot of boots to suddenly descend on a region.’ He cast me a glance. ‘You could always use your men to extract more taxes from the locals at sword point.’
‘That would make me a tyrant, father.’
He shrugged. ‘Kings must do what they must to hold their kingdoms.’
‘Even if it earns them the hatred of their subjects?’ Gallia shot back.
He linked his arm in hers. ‘Not every ruler has the love of his subjects. You two will find that Dura is not Hatra.’
‘But it will have the same respect for the law as Hatra does, father.’
The days following went in a blur, and in that time Domitus prepared the legion for its march south, while Nergal collected wagons, mules and camels to carry the hundreds of tents, tools and food that we would need on the journey. The royal ovens baked thousands of hard biscuits that would last for weeks, while boxes of dates were dispatched to the legion’s camp. While this frenetic activity was going on I went to find Vistaspa. I located him putting two companies of cataphracts through their paces ten miles north of the city, on a baked stretch of flat ground. The earth shook as the armoured horses and their riders galloped behind the figure of Vistaspa, the horsemen carrying their levelled lances with both hands. It was late afternoon and the fierce heat of the day was abating somewhat, but it was still warm and the men would be sweating profusely in their armour and helmets. I watched the men maintain their formation as they halted, turned around and then charged again.
Afterwards I rode over to the men as they dismounted and drank greedily from their waterskins.
‘Don’t gulp it down,’ shouted Vistaspa, sweat pouring down his bony face. ‘Take small mouthfuls and give your horses some. They are thirsty as well.’ He saw me and saluted.
‘I would have a word with you, Lord Vistaspa.’
We walked away from the tired, sweating soldiers and their mounts, whose heads were down. The men would have a long walk back to the city to save their horses further fatigue.
‘I have a favour to ask you,’ I said.
His face remained expressionless, as it always did. ‘Of course.’
‘I wish to ask Godarz to be the governor of Dura, with your permission.’
‘He is yours to command, majesty, you do not need my permission,’ replied Vistaspa, ever the observer of protocol.
Godarz had once served under Vistaspa many years ago, before Godarz had been captured and enslaved by the Romans, and I knew that his return to Parthia had delighted Vistaspa. I therefore felt a pang of guilt that I was making this request, but Godarz was a friend and had been the quartermaster general in the army of Spartacus. I needed his administrative abilities at Dura, and more than that I respected and trusted him.
‘But I would prefer to have your permission.’
I thought I detected a slight look of contempt on his face. ‘You have my permission, majesty.’
I knew that I was a king only by dint of a strange turn of events, and that in normal circumstances I would not have inherited Hatra’s crown until my father’s death, which hopefully was many years away. Vistaspa knew this too, just as he knew that I had fought in a slave army. He had once saved my life when I had let my guard down around some Roman captives, and soon afterwards I had been captured by the Romans. No doubt he believed that going to Dura was a fool’s errand that would lead to disaster, but if he did he kept his council on the matter.