‘Are you going to do something about that?’ asked Gallia, gesturing with her arm to where houses burned and innocents were dying.
‘Not until the city has fallen.’ I replied curtly.
Orodes rode up at the head of the cataphracts.
‘The people are being slaughtered, Pacorus,’ he said.
‘You must do something,’ said Gallia.
Half the city had fallen but there was still some fighting left to do. Still, I had enough foot soldiers to do the task.
I pointed at Gallia and then Orodes. ‘Very well, take the Amazons and the heavy cavalry and stop the Ma’adan in their slaughter, but do not kill them, however tempting it may be. We need those people.’
Orodes raised his hand and wheeled away. Gallia was about to do the same when I called after her.
‘And Gallia.’
‘Yes?’
‘Do not kill Surena, that’s an order. I need him too.’
I heard no reply as she galloped away. A wide canal bisects Uruk, separating the homes of the citizens and the city’s businesses from the royal quarter and the great White Temple that was on my left as I looked across the canal. Several bridges spanned the waterway, the widest of which stood directly in front of us; white stone viper statues sat on pedestals either side of it. These were the only guardians to the last bastions of Chosroes’ kingdom.
‘We had better get across the bridges before they decide to make a stand,’ said Domitus, who had walked over to where I was sitting on Remus.
‘Very well. The Exiles are to take the temple and the Durans are to assault the palace.’
He saluted and ran back to his officers. After a short conference the first centuries sprinted across the bridges and formed up on the opposite bank. Dismounted horse archers stood on the edge of the canal to provide covering fire should it be needed. It was not; there was no sign of the enemy. I trotted over the bridge and joined the foremost centuries, which were now forming into great columns ready to advance against the temple and palace. I made my way to the head of the Durans and we began to move through the royal gardens; a great expanse of date palms, fountains, orchards and flowerbeds. Nergal joined me on his horse, a host of horse archers behind him.
‘We will scout ahead,’ I said, ‘bring your men.’
The Royal Orchard was not only a place of flowers, trees and watercourses, it was also a large park used for hunting. It covered many acres and contained an abundance of wild animals, such as deer, antelope, onager, boar, bulls and panthers. The noise of thousands of hobnailed sandals would have frightened away any wildlife nearby, but I passed the word for the men to take care and watch the trees for any panthers that might be in the branches, ready to pounce.
In the centre of the royal gardens was a large pool with a temple on a small island in its centre. This was a shrine to the goddess Anahita, the goddess of all waters, war, love and fertility. I gave orders that no one was to desecrate this temple surrounded by stone columns plated in silver. Anahita had been good to Gallia during the birth of our daughter and I had no wish to offend Her. We moved past other rectangular pools that had steps leading into their waters, and around the edges were terraces filled with water plants. The waters themselves were teeming with brightly coloured fish, with ducks swimming on the surface. Around the ponds were acres of trees — date palms, doum palms, sycamores and fig trees — planted in straight lines. The Royal Orchard was truly a sanctuary of peace and beauty, and I said a silent prayer to Shamash, asking for His forgiveness for marching an army through its sacred avenues.
I urged Remus forward and we rode through the gardens towards the palace. Nergal’s men filled the trees, bows at the ready, looking for any enemy soldiers that might be in the foliage. We emerged from rows of ancient cypress trees to reach the mud-brick palace walls covered in plaster that had been painted white. There was a well-tended cobbled road that led from the gardens to the palace gates, which were shut. Arrows flew at us from archers standing on the walls either side of the gates.
‘Back into the trees,’ I yelled.
There was no point in sitting on our horses shooting at men standing behind a wall, so we retreated back to the trees and there waited for Domitus and his men to arrive. I ordered a rider to fetch Marcus and to tell him to bring a means of breaching the gates. Some of the dismounted men were standing at the edge of the trees, losing their arrows at the enemy but I ordered them to desist. There was no point in wasting arrows. I too dismounted and walked to the last row of trees to look at the palace, rising up behind the walls; a great whitewashed two-storey stone building with a wide frontage. It appeared to be set back some distance from the walls that protected it, no doubt with a great square before it. No doubt the square where Narses and Chosroes had planned to put me to death.
Byrd and Malik appeared and informed me that there was another set of gates into the royal compound on the other side of the palace.
‘They too are guarded,’ reported Byrd.
‘Will you storm the palace, Pacorus?’ asked Malik.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
Domitus arrived a few minutes later, his men halting among the trees. Guards were posted and the rest took off their helmets, stacked their shields and then lay in the shade. Domitus joined us as we studied the palace walls.
‘I have ordered Marcus to bring some of his engines so we can gain entry via the gates,’ I said.
‘How many men are on those walls?’ asked Domitus.
‘Hard to tell,’ I replied, ‘but they are the palace guard and they will put up a fight.’
Domitus took off his helmet and wiped his brow. ‘It doesn’t matter, we’ll kill them easily enough.’
It took Marcus an hour to arrive with the means to get into the palace, a great battering ram that was loaded on to half a dozen wagons. It took him and his men another hour to assemble it, during which time there was no activity on the walls. A strange silence descended over the area as the Duran Legion rested and Marcus and his men assembled the battering ram. I asked Byrd and Malik to ride over to the western side of the city and report back on what was happening at the White Temple, and they took all the Agraci warriors as an escort just in case there were any roving bands of enemy soldiers still at large. I prayed to Shamash that Gallia and her Amazons were safe.
The battering ram was truly a wondrous thing, a huge tree trunk suspended by chains from a thick overhead beam that formed the top of its arched frame. The beam and the ram itself were under protective screens laid over the frame, the screens being composed of wooden boards overlaid with iron plates with clay underneath and then an inner layer of thick hide. No enemy arrow would be able to pierce that thick roof of iron, while the clay formed a fireproof barrier. The whole ram was mounted on four great wooden wheels so it could be pushed forwards and backwards. The ram itself had rope handles at regular intervals along its length. This was to enable those manning it each side to pull it back and then hurl it forward against the target. And on the point was a massive iron head cast in the shape of a snarling ram, complete with horns.