‘I wish to see order and honour restored to the empire,’ I said grandly.
‘And you think marching on Mesene will achieve that?’
‘It is a start,’ I replied.
She looked directly into my eyes.
‘Perhaps Dura is too small for King Pacorus, perhaps he wishes to sit on the throne at Ctesiphon.’
‘Don’t be absurd.’
She still fixed me with her stare. ‘Absurd is it? No more absurd than returning from Italy like a dead man returning from the underworld, or making peace with the Agraci, or defeating your enemies before Dura.’
‘I do not wish to be King of Kings,’ I said firmly.
‘Then I say this to you again, son of Hatra,’ her voice had an ominous tone, ‘if you embark upon the path of retribution you will plunge the empire into chaos, the outcome of which may not be to your advantage or liking.’
‘No,’ I shouted, ‘Chosroes will be held accountable for his actions, even if it means all the demons of the underworld are unleashed upon the world.’
‘You go to kill Chosroes.’
‘Yes.’
She shrugged. ‘It is of no concern to me. Do what you will.’
‘I will.’
She pointed a bony figure at me. ‘The gods love chaos and they love you, son of Hatra, for you give them what they desire most.’
‘And what is that?’
‘An endless river of blood.’
‘Well, then,’ I said smugly, ‘if the gods love me then I cannot lose.’
She nodded and smiled. ‘You cannot outwit the gods, son of Hatra.’
‘As long as they are not against me, then I will settle for that.’
I was little troubled by Dobbai’s warning, and in any case I had no desire to take control of the empire. Just a short, sharp campaign in Mesene and then things would return to normal. My father wrote to me saying that still no word had come from Ctesiphon but that he had heard from Babylon, Media, Elymais and Atropaiene and even from Khosrou and Musa. They all pledged their allegiance to him and Dura, which further stiffened my resolve to punish Mesene. I was careful not to mention my plan to him, as I knew that he would try to dissuade me. I was not to be denied on this matter.
Practical matters pushed Dobbai’s musings aside as the final preparations were made for the campaign. Haytham sent a thousand horsemen to accompany Malik and Gallia told Kuban that he was to obey Nergal for the duration of the expedition. Kuban was delighted to be marching once again. No doubt the prospect of more slaughter filled him and his men with glee. The area around the legionary camp began to fill with tents, horses and camels as the lords and their followers rode into Dura. Kuban’s men had established their own camp south of the city, a sprawling collection of tents, each one domed, circular and made from a wooden frame covered with felt. The felt itself was made from the hair of camels, sheep, goats and horses and was remarkably resistant to the wind. The whole structure was tied down with straps that crisscrossed over the tent. They varied in size from those accommodating five men to Kuban’s command tent, which could billet up to fifteen people. Each tent took around an hour to set up or take down, though on campaign he and his men usually slept in the open beside their horses, though Kuban told me that they also slept in the saddle when the need arose. They numbered just under a thousand men now, having suffered some casualties during the battle with the Mesenians. Domitus grumbled that they were ill disciplined, which meant that they would not take his orders, but they were fierce warriors and a welcome addition to the army. Besides, technically they were under Gallia’s command.
The cataphracts had suffered greatly during our venture in Gordyene, but with the promotion of squires and the induction of new ones from the sons of the kingdom’s farmers their strength was brought up to eight hundred men. Of the five hundred heavy cavalry that Orodes had brought with him from Susiana, only two hundred and fifty were still alive, but they still rode under the banner of their prince and were accorded equal status with the Durans. Before we marched Domitus added another disc to the staff of victory, bearing the image of a burning camp.
‘I thought your decision to choke everyone with smoke should be immortalised,’ he said as I stood beside him in the tent that also held the gold griffin standard.
‘That is most considerate of you,’ I said. ‘Are the legions ready?’
‘They are ready, and they know that they are going to wreak vengeance on the Mesenians.’
‘How is their mood?’ I asked.
‘Excellent, the boys like the idea of visiting death and destruction on the bastards who threatened their families.’
I looked at him. ‘And how do you feel?’
‘I obey orders.’
‘I know that, Domitus, but as one friend to another, what is your opinion?’
‘Men respect strength,’ he replied gruffly, ‘so if we give those Mesenians a good hiding then that will send a message to anyone who’s thinking of tangling with us again.’
He had confirmed what I believed, though I was determined to give Chosroes more than a good hiding.
We set off on an overcast morning, a slight drizzle in the air, marching south on the western side of the Euphrates. As the legions tramped out of their camp and Byrd and Malik rode at the head of a large party of Agraci scouts, I said goodbye to my daughter in the Citadel’s courtyard. Dobbai held her hand. She cried when she realised that her father and mother were leaving her. It was heartbreaking to see her in such a condition, and Gallia had tears in her eyes as she embraced her daughter. Rsan stood on the steps beside Godarz, his head bowed in reverence. Dobbai wore a resigned expression — she was still obviously perturbed by my course of action.
‘Take care of yourself, son of Hatra.’
I scooped up Claudia in my arms and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Have no fear, I will be back in no time. After all, the gods love me, do they not?’
I put Claudia down and she grabbed Dobbai’s hand. Behind me Surena was sitting in his saddle holding Remus’ reins. I nodded to Godarz who nodded back; then I vaulted onto Remus’ back and rode from the Citadel, followed by Gallia and her Amazons. It was just another busy day in Dura as the long line of legionaries, marching six abreast, snaked south towards Mesene. To their front and on their right flank hundreds of horsemen filled the horizon. We marched with nine thousand legionaries, a thousand Agraci cavalry, just over a thousand cataphracts, Kuban’s nine hundred horsemen, five hundred of Dura’s horse archers and another two thousand horsemen that the lords had mustered. It was more than enough to defeat the remnants of the army of Chosroes that had scurried back to Mesene. We also had the Roman engineers and their siege engines with which to batter the walls of Uruk.
The quickest route there was to head east from Dura and then march down the east bank of the Euphrates, but that would entail traversing Hatran and Babylonian territory and I did not wish to antagonise my father or take advantage of Vardan’s friendship, so we marched on the opposite bank. In former times this would have been suicidal with open war between Dura’s rulers and the Agraci, but now it was a pleasant enough journey. We maintained a brisk pace, covering twenty miles a day. Domitus insisted that we built a camp every night and that everyone slept within its ramparts. During the day those horsemen who were not undertaking scouting duties dismounted and walked their horses, not only to save their mounts but also to maintain their physical condition. Men sitting in saddles on long marches with nothing to do are apt to go to sleep, especially if in friendly territory, and this was certainly that. Nevertheless, we still maintained our standard marching order. Far ahead of the army were Byrd, Malik and his Agraci warriors, riding far and wide to ensure our safety and to collect any useful information. The tip of the army comprised small parties of horse archers. If they came into contact with the enemy they were to instantly disengage and ride back to the army to pass on their information. Next came a vanguard of a hundred fully armoured cataphracts followed by the senior commanders of the army and their standards. The Amazons also rode with this assembly. Behind this group came the rest of the cataphracts and their camels carrying their armour and supplies and then mules and carts pulled by oxen carrying the battering rams and other siege equipment of the Roman engineers. Behind them came the colour party of the Duran Legion with its gold griffin and guards. The trumpeters followed them and then came the cohorts of legionaries divided into their centuries. The men marched six abreast and were accompanied by centurions with their trusty vine canes. The Pontic Legion, the Exiles, followed the Durans. It now had its own standard, a silver lion representing the revered beast of Pontus that had also been the standard of Balas. It had been cast from the silver taken from the armour and helmets of the dead Mesenian soldiers recently slain before the walls of Dura. The tents, spare weapons, armour and other supplies for the two legions came after them, carried by hundreds of mules and dozens of wagons. The lords and their followers trailed after the legions, with a body of Duran horse archers forming the rearguard and more horse archers acting as flank guards and scouts. As the day wore on the drizzle ceased as the sun burnt away the clouds, warming the earth. Soon the thousands of feet and hooves tramping across the baked ground had produced a dust cloud hanging over the whole army, stretching for ten miles.