Gallia set a cruel pace. We had thrown some food and fodder in sacks and tied them to our saddles and then followed her. She had collected Kuban and his men, whose camp stood empty and deserted. A horse can comfortably cover around thirty miles a day, but that first day we travelled over thirty and still did not catch up with my queen. We halted for the night at one of the mud-brick forts where the commander, a fresh-faced centurion on crutches, told us that she had visited them earlier.
‘They took all the fodder but left most of our food, sir.’
I pointed at his crutches. ‘What happened?’
‘Got crushed under a testudo during training, sir. Occupational hazard.’
‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘How was the queen when you saw her?’
‘Like a snake that has just been stepped on, sir.’
The garrison of each fort had been greatly reduced when the army had marched north, but a small number of men had been left behind, including any that were infirm or generally unfit for duty. In this way the fort’s stores would be secure and communications maintained between the city and the army. We slept under the sky outside the fort that night and, after what seemed only five minutes of sleep, saddled the horses before dawn and were riding south again as the first red shards of light were seen in the eastern sky. Unwashed and unshaven, we picked up a quick pace once more and thundered ahead. There was no conversation as we headed for Dura, but throughout the day I began to worry what we would find when we got there. If the city had fallen… Do not think, keep moving, stay focused.
The second night our bodies ached and our horses were lathered in sweat. So we halted, unsaddled them and led them into the cool waters of the Euphrates. Once more we grabbed a pitiful amount of sleep and rode south again in the pre-dawn light. After three hours of hard riding we finally caught up with Gallia. Her horses were tied together in the shade of a large group of date palms a hundred paces from the Euphrates. Most of Kuban’s fierce warriors were similarly in the shade, many lying asleep on the ground beside their leather armour. But Gallia had also ensured that she would not be surprised and had thrown out parties of guards to keep watch, and a dozen of Kuban’s men had ridden up to our column before we arrived at the main body, escorting us down the road to where Dura’s queen was standing with a group of the Amazons. I dismounted, handed Remus’ reins to Surena and walked over to them. They parted when they saw me, bowing their heads as I walked up to my wife.
‘You took your time,’ was all she said, looking at a semi-naked man spread-eagled on the ground in front of her. His wrists and ankles had been lashed tightly to wooden stakes that had been hammered into the ground. The figure of Kuban was kneeling beside him, a bloody knife in his hand.
‘This wretch has told us that the army of Mesene is besieging Dura,’ she snapped her fingers and one of her Amazons handed her a round shield. She then passed it to me. ‘But this carries the bird-god symbol of Persis.’
‘Narses is at Dura?’ I said.
Gallia smiled and then nodded to Kuban, who ran the blade of his knife across the victim’s chest, drawing blood as he did so. The man’s body contorted with pain and Kuban stopped cutting. The man turned his head and spat at him. Kuban wiped his face and then cut off the man’s left ear, causing him to scream and thrash wildly at his bonds.
‘You heard his majesty,’ barked Kuban. ‘Answer his question.’
The man’s eyes were full of fear as they looked at me, blood pouring from his ear socket.
‘No Narses,’ said weakly, ‘he sent us to reinforce Chosroes. Water, please.’
Gallia walked away. ‘Kill him, Kuban.’
I winced as Kuban drew his blade across the man’s throat. He passed from this life as blood gushed from his neck onto the earth. I followed Gallia.
‘We ran into a patrol earlier and killed all of them except that one. Kuban has some very useful skills when it comes to extracting information.’
I stopped her and placed my hands on her shoulders. There were black rings round her eyes and she looked very tired.
‘You must rest.’
She shook off my hands. ‘I will rest when my daughter is safe.’
Gallia looked at my men leading their horses to drink from the river. ‘Is that all you brought?’
‘More are coming. More to the point, how many do we face?’
‘Fifteen thousand, according to that piece of carrion we captured.’
‘When did they arrive?’
‘Five days ago. They have yet to assault the city but it cannot be long before they do so.’
Fifteen thousand was a big army, but I was not as worried now as I was when I first heard that Dura was under siege. Parthians have no knowledge of siege warfare, save surrounding a city and starving it into surrender. Then Gallia dashed my hopes.
‘He told us that Chosroes knew that the city would be weakly defended because its army had marched north, and he has brought siege towers with him.’
‘Siege towers?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘but they had to be dismantled and then reassembled once at the city. He told us that the assault would take place tomorrow. We have to get to Dura today.’
I grabbed her arm; she wrenched it free.
‘Wait, Gallia, please wait. We cannot attack fifteen thousand men with just over a thousand. We must wait until Nergal and Orodes arrive. That at least will even the odds.’
Her blue eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t care about odds, all I care about is my daughter.’
‘So do I, but getting ourselves killed will not help her.’
Her eyes misted with tears and I held her close. ‘Have no fear, remember that Godarz is in command of the city and he has engines at his disposal.’
Byrd and Malik rode further south with a score of horsemen to try to discover more information, but I forbade them to take any risks or engage any enemy they might encounter. I did not want them to be staked out in the sun and tortured, or worse. While I waited for them to return the men and women took the opportunity to rest, fill their bellies and tend to their horses. Several of the latter were lame due to the exertions of the journey and so they and their riders would have to be left behind. This further reduced our numbers, and though Kuban and his officers wanted to attack the enemy without waiting, I knew that our only hope lay with Nergal and Orodes. Nergal arrived that evening with his horse archers and the lords and their retainers. I was delighted to discover that Atrax and Vistaspa accompanied them, along with two thousand of Hatra’s horse archers and another three thousand of Media’s horse archers.
‘The rest of Hatra’s army, together with the forces of the other kings, are marching down the east bank of the Euphrates, majesty,’ he said formally. Same old Vistaspa. Then he added. ‘Your foot under Domitus are following in our wake on this side of the river.’
It was a happy reunion and as the men relieved their horses of their saddles and prepared an evening meal, the senior officers gathered under a gnarled old date palm to decide what to do. The mood was relaxed as we drank water and chewed on hard biscuit. I estimated that we now numbered over seventeen thousand men, excellent odds for the morrow. And crucially, Orodes’ own and Dura’s cataphracts were following close behind.
‘The heavy cavalry will be here tomorrow, Pacorus,’ reported Nergal, ‘together with the camel train carrying armour, arrows, fodder and food.
‘Are you planning to wait for their arrival before you attack?’ asked Vistaspa, his long black hair now streaked with grey.