‘Of course not,’ remarked my father, ‘he hoped to make this his home. Why then would he destroy it?’
And so, without raising a sword against him, we had forced Narses to retreat.
Chapter 10
That afternoon I rode with my father, Vardan and Chosroes to the palace. The heavy wooden gates opened to let us enter as soldiers observed us from the walls. Parthian armies have no knowledge of siege warfare and as far as I knew none of the empire’s kings had engines with which to batter down fortifications, so unless walls are particularly weak or ill-maintained there is little likelihood of a city falling to an assault. Usually starvation forces surrender, and as I rode through the gates at Ctesiphon the latter seemed most likely had we delayed but a few days more. The wide expanse of open ground between the walls and the palace was filled with tents, horses and camels — troops from Susiana who had remained loyal to Phraates together with the shattered remnants of Elymais’ army. Feeding such a multitude would have quickly emptied the palace storerooms. Inside the walled palace complex itself we were greeted by Prince Orodes, who, despite the fact that he had been besieged, still retained his cheerful disposition. He bowed to my father, Vardan and Chosroes and then embraced me.
‘It is good to see you, majesty.’
‘You don’t have to call me that, Orodes. Pacorus will suffice. We are, after all, friends are we not?’
‘My father and I certainly need all the friends we can get. Is Gallia with you?’
‘I sent her back to Dura. She’s pregnant.’
He shook my hand and beamed with delight. ‘This is indeed a happy day, Pacorus. Tonight we will celebrate and toast your wife, but first my father wishes to convey his gratitude.’
Our horses were taken from us and we walked up the palace steps and into the cool interior of Phraates’ palace. The high ceilings, yellow and blue painted walls and marble columns conveyed power and opulence whilst the immaculately dressed guards gave a sense of protocol and discipline. The ensuing ordered calm was in stark contrast to the disorder that currently raged outside the confines of the royal residence. Clerks and eunuchs scuttled around as Orodes escorted us into one of the throne rooms.
The large white doors inlaid with gold opened and we entered the seat of power, the same throne room where Sinatruces had made me King of Dura over two years before. How long ago it seemed now. That was a happy time, but the atmosphere in the room this time was far from joyous as we walked across the marble-tiled floor and bowed in front of the dais where Phraates sat next to his wife, Queen Aruna. I was shocked by how old Phraates looked. He was in his fifties and his hair had always been flecked with grey, but now there were large streaks of it in his mane, but what was more noticeable was how gaunt he looked. Sunken cheeks, bags under his eyes, his hands constantly fidgeting with the arms of his throne were indicative of the toll the rebellion had taken on him; that and the great weight upon his shoulders of being King of Kings. He did at least seem pleased to see us and raised his right hand in recognition.
‘Greetings King Varaz, King Chosroes and King Vardan. You are all most welcome. And greetings to you, King Pacorus, who have added more lustre to your reputation by your recent victory.’
I bowed my head once more. ‘Thank you, highness.’
Standing to the side of the dais, dressed in full war gear, was King Gotarzes of Elymais, whose army Narses had defeated and whose forces now sheltered inside the walls of the palace complex. He winked at me and I smiled back.
‘Do you intend to march after the rebels, highness?’ asked my father.
Phraates shifted uneasily on his throne. ‘Well, I was hoping to reach an accommodation with them. The empire needs peace.’
‘Peace, I absolutely agree,’ added Chosroes.
‘There can be peace after we have defeated Narses and his army,’ I said.
All eyes were upon me and I soon realised that I had made a mistake to speak thus. Phraates frowned and looked at his feet, while the queen fixed me with an icy stare. It was the first time that I had met Queen Aruna. She was younger than Phraates by about five years, I surmised. Some would call her beautiful, with thick black curly hair that flowed down to her shoulders, a square, olive-skinned face with a perfect complexion and big brown eyes. But it was a harsh beauty, for she had a haughty manner and a condescending attitude, born no doubt of her upbringing in the court at Puta, for she was the sister of King Phriapatus of Carmania, an eastern kingdom that had sided with Narses. And from the first day that I met her she was my enemy.
‘I do not wish to see the death of King Mithridates, my son, who currently accompanies King Narses,’ she said. ‘It is unbecoming for kings to kill each other. This is Parthia, not the barbarian wastelands of the steppes.’
So Mithridates was with Narses. It did not surprise me, the treacherous little snake.
‘The current difficult situation will be settled now that you all have arrived,’ said Phraates, ignoring his wife’s utterance. ‘Narses will see sense and return to Persis.’
‘Narses should be ordered here to explain his insolence,’ added Aruna, ‘and for luring away my innocent son from our side. Narses has obviously been bewitched, probably by that vile old hag who corrupted the divine Sinatruces.’
She shot me a hateful look. She was obviously alluding to Dobbai, and must have known that she now resided at Dura.
I caught the look of disbelief on Orodes’ face. I had no doubt that whatever the reason for Mithridates being with Narses, it had nothing to do with him being deceived, more likely naked ambition.
‘You wish to negotiate with your enemies, highness?’ asked my father.
Aruna looked daggers at my father, her eyebrows squeezed together, then at her husband.
Phraates cleared his throat. ‘They are not our enemies. They are our subjects, and as such I do not wish to make war upon them.’
The queen regarded us with a smug expression. I felt like we were small boys being chastised. Phraates rose from his throne and held out his hand to his queen, who took it and also stood up.
‘You must be tired after your journey.’ He gestured to one of his stewards standing by the dais. ‘You will be shown to your rooms. Tonight we will have a feast to celebrate your arrival, and tomorrow we will decide what action is to be taken.’
We bowed our heads as the king and queen left the room, after which Orodes and Gotarzes accompanied us to our quarters in the palace.
‘You arrived just in time, Varaz,’ said Gotarzes, ‘another week and we would have been starved out.’
The so-called ‘feast’ that evening was a dire event, the whole room drenched in an atmosphere of polite iciness. The queen pointedly ignored me, father and Vardan, though she did respond to the obsequiousness of Chosroes, whose mood had brightened markedly now that Phraates had stated his intention to avoid further bloodshed. I spoke to Orodes briefly before he took his place beside his parents at the top table. Then I took my seat on one of the long tables that had been arranged at right angles to the top table and which seated a host of courtiers dressed in bright yellows, greens, blues and reds. I sat next to Gotarzes, who I think was glad of my company.
‘Are your family safe, lord?’ I asked him.