‘You look west when you should be giving your attention to the north.’
Domitus stopped fiddling with his dagger and looked up at her. Rsan seemed decidedly nervous, Gafarn bemused.
‘You speak in riddles,’ I said.
‘Then let me make it plain, son of Hatra. War is upon Parthia and you must act quickly if all is not to be lost.’
‘The gods speak to you?’ asked Nergal.
Dobbai threw her head back and gave a feral laugh. ‘Don’t be absurd. Why should they speak to me, much less an idiot whose only talent is to ride upon a horse and shoot a bow? They reveal glimpses of things, that is all.’
Nergal looked confused as to whether she was referring to him or me. Perhaps she was talking of both of us.
‘I have heard no word from the northern frontier,’ I said, trying to restore some semblance of normality to the proceedings.
‘Have it your own way,’ she said, and with that she said no more.
It was impossible to continue with her staring blankly at the wall, so I dismissed everyone and left her sitting alone. But her words had fomented an air of foreboding in me that crept through my body like a chill. My mind told me to ignore such outbursts but my instincts told me that she was right. Diana and Gafarn travelled back to Hatra the day after, Diana pleading with Gallia for her and Claudia to go with them. My wife embraced them both but told them that she would be staying, and so we watched our dearest friends and their escort ride from the Citadel. I prayed that we would live to see them again.
Byrd and Malik rode into the desert to keep watch for the Romans, and Malik informed me that he would form a screen of Agraci watchmen to be my eyes. I liked Malik. He was honest, brave and loyal. He would have made a good Parthian king, but one day he would rule his own kingdom and I hoped that he would continue the alliance between our two peoples. After a week he and Byrd returned with news, and it was not good.
‘Romani army has marched from Antioch, striking for the Euphrates. They will then march down the western bank to attack Dura.’
‘They have decided not to march through my father’s lands, Pacorus,’ said Malik.
‘They are clever,’ I said. ‘They think to settle affairs with me first. But Antioch is three hundred miles from Dura and it will take nearly three weeks for them to get here; plenty of time to organise a proper reception for them.’
Or at least it would have been had it not have been for the arrival of a courier three days later with news that the combined forces of Media and Atropaiene had been defeated near the shores of Lake Urmia, and that a Roman army was now approaching Irbil. I sat in my chair on the palace terrace and read the latter from Farhad to Gallia sitting beside me. Dobbai was next to the balustrade listening attentively.
‘So,’ I remarked with a heavy heart, ‘the Romans are attacking us from the north as well.’
Dobbai rose and faced me. ‘Farhad’s words do not say that. He states that he has been defeated and now squeals like a little girl for you to come to his aid.’
‘And aid him I shall,’ I said.
Claudia was fast asleep in Gallia’s arms and her serene manner comforted me.
‘Farhad is a fool,’ said Dobbai.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Gallia.
‘Reassure Farhad that help is on its way. I am, after all, lord high general and have a responsibility to assist the kings of the empire.’
Dobbai scoffed at this. ‘Farhad is beyond hope.’
I sent urgent messages to Dura’s lords informing them of the Romans’ approach and requesting their presence. When they arrived I assembled everyone in the council chamber, which was barely big enough to accommodate everyone who clustered around the table. Domitus, Nergal, Rsan, Byrd, Malik and Godarz were also present. Gallia left Claudia with Dobbai and also joined us. The room was warm, made worse by the press of bodies, and so sweating servants brought water and fruit juice. Godarz, who had been a slave in Italy for many years and had great knowledge of Roman affairs, addressed everyone first.
‘We know that the Roman army approaching Dura’s lands is sponsored, perhaps led in person, by a man named Marcus Licinius Crassus.’
A wall of blank faces indicated that the name meant nothing to the lords, though Gallia, Domitus, Byrd and Nergal knew it well enough. Godarz continued.
‘Crassus is a very wealthy man who has an eye for a business opportunity. There are two reasons why he would send an army to Dura. The first is to exact revenge on King Pacorus, who inflicted many defeats on the Romans in their own country.’
The lords stepped forward and banged their fists on the table in acknowledgement of my achievements. When they had finished Godarz again continued.
‘The second reason is our trade route with the Egyptians. If Crassus takes Dura, then he will control the flow of goods that runs through this city to Egypt.’
‘So he’s a cheap merchant, then,’ said one of the lords, which prompted laughter among the others.
Godarz regained his seat as I stood and raised my hands.
‘He may be a cheap merchant but he is no fool. He will have calculated that he stands a good chance of achieving his aims. He does not spend his own money without great consideration.’
‘You know this man, majesty?’ asked another lord.
‘I stayed in his house as a guest once.’ They looked in confusion at me. ‘It is a long story and one I do not have time to tell now. Suffice to say he is a dangerous opponent. Byrd, what news have you heard of the Roman army?’
‘I hear of three Romani eagles, plus some horse and auxiliaries. Many wagons.’
‘Three legions, plus horse and support troops; so slingers, archers and skirmishers. Around twenty thousand men, maybe more,’ I surmised.
One of the lords slapped his companion on the arm. ‘We can raise more than that among ourselves. We can beat this rabble before they get near Dura.’
The others roared their approval. And he was right. Each of them could raise a thousand or more men from their estates, lightly armed horse archers that could muster and attack the Romans before they bore down on the city. Wave after wave of horsemen crashing against the locked shields of the Romans, just like the horsemen of Farhad and Aschek had attempted to do, no doubt, and just like them they would be slaughtered.
‘No,’ I said. ‘We will not attack the Romans.’
I saw the confusion and disappointment in their eyes as they looked at each other and fell silent, and I smiled.
‘That is exactly what the Romans want us to do, and that is exactly what we shall not do.’
‘If the Romans engage us in battle, their slingers, archers and javelins will cut us down, and we will be unable to penetrate their wall of shields. You have all seen the damage the weapons of a legion can inflict on the enemy, and I will not permit the same to happen to you. Instead, we will weaken the enemy before we have even raised a sword against him.’
I knew I had them interested now. The kingdom of Dura was a frontier region of warlords. Each of them had as his base a stronghold surrounded by high walls, battlements, towers and thick gates. These great residences were built to withstand attack and were places of refuge, so I told each of them that they must now be prepared to withstand a Roman assault.
‘The Romans will march along the river, therefore those of you with lands near the Euphrates must stock up with supplies and send the women, children and those too old or young to fight across the river into Hatra. Those of you whose lands are away from the river must also evacuate the women and the young and old, as the Romans will undoubtedly send out foraging parties far and wide, and will lay waste anything they cannot use. This being the case, those being evacuated must also take their livestock with them to deny the Romans supplies.’
One of the lords was most unhappy. It was Spandarat, the grizzled old warrior who had escorted Gallia back to Dura after we had defeated Porus. ‘You wish us to hide behind our walls like old women?’