Domitus shared breakfast with me, a spartan meal of biscuit, porridge, fruit and water. He wore his centurion’s mail shirt adorned with discs and his helmet with its white transverse crest. As usual he had brought his vine cane.
I pointed at the cane now lying next to us on the table. ‘Going to beat the enemy with that, Domitus?’
‘If they are as ragged as the lot that follows Chosroes, I might do just that.’
Outside the tent I could hear the curses and complaints of soldiers being marshalled into their ranks by centurions. Soldiers really were the same the world over.
‘Remember, deploy your men in two lines today to extend their frontage,’ I said. ‘When I give the signal, I want you to charge straight at the enemy.’
‘You are going to start the battle?’
‘Yes, straight at them. The time for talking is over. I will be attacking on the right flank while you are assaulting their centre.’ He nodded.
‘And Domitus?’
‘Yes?’
‘Stay alive.’
He stuffed another biscuit into his mouth. ‘You too, Pacorus.’
Mercifully, the day was overcast as I rode at the head of my horsemen out of camp an hour later. Domitus and his legion had left earlier and were already moving into their battle positions, five cohorts in the first line and five in the second. Each cohort was made up of six centuries, each century comprised of eighty men drawn up in eight ranks of ten men. I never understood this designation because the Latin word centum denoted one hundred, whereas the century actually numbered eighty men or thereabouts. A cohort’s battle formation comprised three centuries in the first line with the other three directly behind.
As our army was forming into line the contingents of Narses were doing likewise. Great numbers of horsemen, both archers and spearmen, were deploying in front of where my cataphracts were lined up behind me. The warriors in front were dressed in leather armour and hide caps. Those carrying spears clasped hide-covered shields to their bodies, while the horse archers wore no armour as far as I could discern. I also spied groups of cataphracts among their ranks dressed similarly to our own. In the centre, between the two wings of enemy horsemen, was the foot. Narses must have emptied the Zagros Mountains of all the hill men who lived there, for such a seething press of men I had never before seen. They resembled a vast black lake that had suddenly been thrust upon the desert floor; hordes of axe men, spearmen, archers, slingers and others carrying clubs and knives. Those who carried shields were banging them with their spear shafts; others were screaming curses at our men opposite, or whooping and cheering at the tops of their voices. Directly opposite my horsemen, kettledrummers were beating their instruments with gusto. The enemy horsemen spread far beyond my flank, perhaps for half a mile or more.
Gotarzes rode up with his cataphracts with Orodes beside him.
‘There’s thousands of the bastards, Pacorus,’ said Gotarzes, who reined in his horse beside Remus as his men formed up on the right of my own.
‘Indeed, the combined might of Narses, Phriapatus of Carmania, Vologases of Drangiana, Cinnamus of Anauon, Monaeses of Yueh-Chih and Mithridates himself.’
‘Hail Pacorus,’ Orodes bowed his head to me. He fell in next to Gotarzes.
‘Good to see you my friend,’ I said. ‘Today we’ll get your kingdom back.’
‘My kingdom?’
‘Susiana,’ I replied, ‘you don’t think that your father will want your brother sitting in Susa after he has rebelled against him, do you?’
‘But my brother is king,’ said Orodes.
‘Not if he’s dead he isn’t,’ I said quietly.
Gotarzes heard me and smiled, though Orodes was out of earshot. ‘I did not hear, lord.’
‘It does not matter, the main thing is that you are here.’
A blast of horns announced the arrival of Enius and his five hundred riders who swept around the back of my own cataphracts and formed into line to the right of Gotarzes’ armoured riders. Around two hundred paces behind us, sitting on the grass and busily chatting among themselves and consciously ignoring the enemy, were Dura’s lords and their two thousand horse archers. Enius trotted up and saluted to Gotarzes and me. His arrival was the signal for Nergal to join us, who rode up and faced us with his back to the enemy. The cacophony of noise coming from the latter showed no signs of abating and I had to shout to make myself heard.
‘Nergal, when I give the signal gather your horsemen and assault the enemy opposite. Pepper them with arrows but don’t get too close. If they advance, you retreat, but you must keep on annoying them to fix their attention on you.’
Nergal turned in his saddle and looked at the masses of enemy horsemen facing him. ‘They will undoubtedly attack us, lord.’
‘I know, but if they do, like I said, withdraw but keep on harassing them. Now go.’
He galloped back to his men, who by this time were in their saddles and mustering around their lords. They didn’t have the discipline of my cataphracts or legionaries, but it did not matter. As long as they stayed in the field, shooting at the enemy and did not get drawn into a melee, then they would prove their worth.
The wall of noise coming from the enemy’s ranks showed no sign of lessening as I rode forward to admire the view, for it was not often that the kings of the empire arrayed their forces in one spot. Next to the legion I spied the purple-clad foot and horse of Babylon, and beyond them the ill-equipped hordes of Chosroes, and in the distance, just visible on our left flank, magnificent in their white tunics and scale armour, the horsemen of Hatra. I saw Phraates sitting on his horse immediately behind the Babylonians alongside Vardan, both kings flanked by mounted spearman and a phalanx of huge axe men standing directly in front of them. Almost exactly opposite Phraates, across the empty space of ground between the two armies, was Narses himself, the handsome, ruthless rebel leader. I could not see his face from this distance but I could see that he was mounted on a large black horse. He wore an armoured cuirass that shimmered in the light, for now the sun’s rays were lancing through the breaks in the clouds. Narses wore a steel helmet with a red crest and was surrounded by all the other kings in his army, judging by the standards that were being held behind his entourage. And on his flanks and behind him there must have been at least five hundred cataphracts. Narses and his horsemen looked magnificent and intimidating in the centre of the enemy’s front rank, but they were in entirely the wrong place. For which I thanked Shamash.
Then the noise coming from the opposition’s ranks began to diminish, until after perhaps five minutes it had completely died away. An ominous silence then descended over both armies as Narses and a group of riders slowly walked their horses forward beyond the front ranks. Immediately behind him his great banner fluttered in the wind — a great yellow flag sporting the black head of Simurgel, the bird-god of Persepolis. So, perhaps he was going to talk after all. I smiled to myself. The time for talking was long past; it was time to fight. I kicked Remus forward to take me about fifty paces beyond our line then halted him. I saw Domitus standing a few paces in front of his legion and lowered my kontus towards the enemy. I kept it there until he raised his hand in recognition of my signal, then I rode back to my horsemen.