She walked over to me with Praxima by her side. Nergal embraced his wife tenderly.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘Here we are again, dressed for battle. I thought we had done with war when we left Italy. It seems I was wrong.’
‘Do not worry, lord,’ said Praxima, the thought of imminent carnage sparking a glint in her eyes, ‘we will beat the enemy once more.’
I walked over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘With you beside me I don’t doubt it.’
Praxima may have been the wife of my second-in-command, but she had never lost the semi-feral nature of character. She revelled in war and thought nothing of killing. I had to confess that she still unnerved me.
‘Keep your women close behind my cataphracts,’ I said to Gallia, ‘just like we have practised on the training ground.’
Around me individuals suddenly began to stir and stand up. I looked round and saw two figures on horseback galloping in our direction. I signalled assembly to be called and seconds later horns were being blown and men were mounting their horses. The two figures slowed as they approached and I saw that it was Byrd and Malik, who halted yards from me and raised their hands in salute.
‘Porus come,’ was all Byrd said, before swivelling in the saddle and pointing in the direction he had ridden from. I peered into the distance but could see nothing, but then I heard what seemed like distant thunder, a low, thudding noise.
I turned to Gallia and held in her my arms.
‘Shamash be with you.’
She smiled. ‘And with you.’
We kissed and then her perfect visage disappeared behind her helmet as she closed the cheekguards and vaulted on to Epona’s back. My cataphracts formed into two lines as once more I mounted Remus and scanned the horizon. I still could see nothing, but the rumbling noise was getting louder.
‘They are about eight, ten miles away, marching this way,’ said Malik, sounding alarmed.
‘Many elephants,’ was all that Byrd added.
Nergal rode up and saluted. He would lead the horse archers this day, who were grouped in a solid block behind my own men.
And so we waited until the opposing army came into view, though by the time it did so the area was engulfed by the unrelenting din of its kettledrummers on horseback, drummers on foot, trumpeters and horn players. At first the army appeared as a long black line on the horizon, but as it got closer I began to identify its various elements — foot soldiers, horsemen and, towering above everything else, elephants. It took around an hour for the enemy to come into view and a further hour for them to deploy into battle array. And throughout that period we did nothing but wait, for I did not want to interrupt their careful preparations. It was certainly the most colourful army that I had ever seen, a profusion of red, orange and yellow flags and pennants. And all the while the cacophony of noise filled our ears. The captains of the opposing host saw the legion drawn up and deployed their foot to face them, all the while their cavalry — armed with long lances and protected by helmets, hide shields and leather cuirasses reinforced by iron plates — filing into position opposite my horsemen to prevent us launching a charge before their foot was in position. The latter comprised two groups — archers equipped with long bamboo bows the height of a man, which required one end to be anchored on firm ground before they could be fired, and swordsmen dressed in baggy leggings and loose-fitting tunics carrying ox-hide shields. The archers deployed into a dense mass behind the swordsmen, while in front of the foot soldiers lumbered the elephants. I counted at least sixty, each one with its own guard of ten spearmen who walked on either side of the animal.
The elephants were certainly magnificent beasts, their foreheads protected by large polished bronze plates and their tusks encased in gleaming steel armour. On their backs, secured in place by ropes that ran under their bellies, were wooden boxes holding three archers, with a driver sitting on the elephant’s neck immediately in front of the firing platform. The elephants seemed unconcerned by the deafening noise, unlike our horses that were beginning to get panicky by the commotion and the sight of the elephants. Remus grunted and began to shift uneasily beneath me, requiring me to constantly reassure him. Eventually the elephants were in position in a long line facing the frontline cohorts at a distance of around five hundred paces. Directly opposite my banner was the standard of Porus, a great yellow flag with braided gold cord hanging on a wooden dowel and attached to a long pole. It carried the image of an elephant’s head, the symbol of Sakastan.
After the enemy had finally moved into their positions, I ordered Byrd to ride to where Porus was mounted on his horse amidst a great gathering of his commanders. I told him to convey a message to the king that I requested a parley. So Byrd tied a white cloth around his wrist and held his arm aloft as he trotted across no-man’s land towards the king. When he reached the mid-spot between the two armies a rider came from Porus to meet him and the two halted but feet apart. I saw Byrd gesturing with his hands, nod and then turn around to return to me.
Moments later Porus, escorted by a retinue of a dozen lords, emerged from the front ranks of his horsemen. I signalled to Byrd and Nergal to follow me as I urged Remus forward. Both parties slowed as we approached each other, halting to leave a gap of ten paces between us. I recognised Porus from the Council of Kings, a dark-skinned, handsome man with a neatly trimmed moustache but no beard. In his mid-forties, he had dark brown eyes and a slightly bent nose. He looked magnificent dressed in his cuirass of overlapping square silver scales, open-faced helmet, bright yellow silk shirt, red leather gloves inlaid with silver, yellow leggings and red leather boots. A sword with an elaborate silver cross guard hung from his belt, encased in a red leather scabbard with gold leaf decoration. His horse was an immaculately groomed black stallion, its coat shimmering in the sunlight.
I held my hand up to him.
‘Hail, King Porus.’ He raised his hand in return but said nothing.
I continued. ‘You are a long way from Sakastan. This is Hatran territory, therefore I request that you turn your army around and take it home, for it has no business here.’
‘Where are your father and his army, King Pacorus?’ His tone was sharp, mocking. ‘Is he hiding behind his high walls in fear, and sends his son to do his business?’
‘The affairs of Hatra are my business,’ I replied, ‘so I say again, turn your army around and take it back to Sakastan.’
He said nothing but peered past me to my cavalry deployed behind me, then looked south at the legion standing silently in its ranks. Then he looked directly at me.
‘I do not think that you are in any position to dictate terms, boy. Have you not seen my army and how it dwarfs yours?’