‘Where is the cavalry?’
‘Nergal has it scattered over a wide area. There’s no need to keep it in camp as there are plenty of your father’s bases around here to feed men and their animals.’
He was talking of the small forts that were dotted throughout Hatra. Each one had a tiny garrison, no more than twenty-five men, but they were solidly constructed from mud bricks and had high walls, thick gates and towers at each corner complete with arrow slits. They were both a strongpoint and a place of refuge in times of emergency, and any invader would have to reduce them one by one to conquer the whole kingdom. But to do so would be a lengthy process and would give my father time to muster his army.
‘Nergal will be here soon. He reports in every day to hear news of Dura.’
‘And what is the news?’
He smiled. ‘Gallia gave them a bloody nose and since then they’ve done nothing except lob a few missiles at the walls. Perhaps they have decided to starve the city into surrender.’
I nodded. ‘Good, that is exactly what I hoped for. They do not know that we evacuated the population. Talking of which, where is it?’
‘Ten miles north of here. They brought plenty of food with them and there’s an oasis nearby, but a few thousand people cannot remain there for any length of time.’
‘I know that.’ I looked at him. ‘They will be back in Dura within a week.’
He frowned. ‘We could not persuade Gallia to leave the city, I’m sorry.’
‘I knew she would not leave, she told me as much. It is her home, the only one she has ever had. It will take more than a Roman army to evict her from it.’
After I had washed and changed my clothes, I found Surena a new shirt, leggings and a pair of leather sandals. He would have to wait for new boots until we returned to the city. I also found a centurion and told him to take the lad on a tour of the camp. Surena, refreshed and newly attired, was eager to see more of the sprawling tent city and clung to the centurion like an eager puppy.
‘Where did you collect him from?’ asked Domitus as I watched Surena being scolded for picking up a javelin without asking.
‘Would you believe that he saved my life?’
Domitus frowned. ‘That’s what happens when you go off on wild goose chases without an adequate escort.’
Half an hour later Nergal rode into camp. I was delighted to see the commander of my cavalry, with his gangly arms and legs and infectious smile. I had never seen Nergal downcast, even during our darkest moments. The arrival of Byrd and Malik made for a happy reunion and I was glad to be back among my friends and the legion once more. Byrd and Malik had ridden far and wide since the army had left Dura and they reported that the kingdom’s lords were itching to attack the Romans but, true to their word, were waiting until they received orders to do so.
‘They are like hungry dogs, lord,’ said Byrd, ‘they thirst to feed on the Romani corpse.’
As we relaxed around the compact square table in the main section of Domitus’ voluminous tent, I told them about the Roman threat to Media and Atropaiene, of the treachery of Chosroes, the return of Narses and his army, and the inaction of Phraates.
‘So you see, my friends,’ I said, ‘all the fighting that we did last year was for nothing, and now the empire faces a greater threat. It is as if the gods have created this situation to test us to the limit.’
Their faces displayed no outward emotion, though each of them must have been wondering what course of action should be taken. I answered their unspoken question.
‘Very well. There is no point in sitting here thinking of the most dire outcome. First of all we will destroy the Romans in front of Dura. Byrd and Malik, you will ride to the lords and tell them to attack any Roman supply convoys or bases within easy reach of their strongholds. Hit and run only. Tell them not to get involved in long, drawn-out fights. After their raiding practice, they are to rendezvous with the army at the stone bridge over the Euphrates north of Dura.’
‘What of Hatra, lord?’ asked Nergal. ‘Lucullus has Nisibus besieged. Are we not to aid your father?’
Nergal was Hatran himself, and he had family living in the north of the kingdom, cousins and nieces most probably.
‘Hatra will have to wait,’ I replied. ‘One battle at a time. We beat the Romans at Dura first, then we can march north to aid Hatra.’
Domitus, as usual, was toying with his dagger. He looked up at me. ‘And after that?’
‘Assuming that Media has not fallen, we will have to leave Farhad to his own devices and deal with Narses. My father can send reinforcements to Media in any case, but Narses is like a viper in the belly of the empire. This time we will kill him, even if we have to march all the way to Persepolis.’
Domitus put away his dagger. ‘Well, looks like we will be busy for the next few months. Still, it will give my boys something to do, stop them getting broody.’
‘On another subject,’ I said. ‘Where is Rsan?’
‘He decided to stay in Dura, lord,’ replied Nergal.
‘Wouldn’t leave his treasury,’ added Domitus. ‘Could not bear the thought of all that gold lying there without his protection.’
‘I did not think he had the courage to stay in a besieged city,’ I said.
‘He hasn’t,’ mused Domitus, ‘but his parsimony overcame his fear of being skewered on a Roman javelin.’
I had to admit that I had grown to like Rsan, and I vowed to myself that he would never see death at the hands of a Roman.
‘Friends, we march at dawn.’
After Nergal, Byrd and Malik had departed, I sat with Domitus until late into the evening.
‘We heard that you are no longer lord high general.’
‘It seems that Mithridates applied all his energies to announcing to the world that I no longer have Phraates’ favour.’
Domitus began sharpening his gladius with a stone, using long strokes to make the edges razor sharp.
‘There is no hope for Phraates,’ he said. ‘He will meet his death at the end of an assassin’s dagger.’
I said nothing but feared his prophecy would come true. Mithridates and his mother had Phraates under their spell and so the living heart of the empire was paralysed. I thought of Balas at that moment. Roisterous, brave, big-hearted Balas. He had been right all along. We should have elected my father King of Kings and then we would have had a strong empire, not one riven by division and weakened like it now was. And Balas would still be alive. Or perhaps events would have turned out exactly the same. I prayed to Shamash that the empire would continue and thrive, but did He listen, do gods listen to insignificant mortals? I did not know. I looked at Domitus whetting his blade and smiled to myself. I did know that he and his men would not let me down, and nor would Nergal’s horsemen who were now receiving their orders.
‘I had hoped that we would have peace when we all left Italy,’ I said idly.
Domitus stopped sharpening his blade and looked at me. ‘I think that if you really believed that was true you would have retired to a mountain top and lived out your days as a holy man.’
‘No one wants perpetual war, Domitus.’
He shrugged. ‘Yes you do. It’s the only thing you know, and certainly the only thing I know. We are good at it, and because we are accomplished at it war will always search us out.’
‘You make it sound as though it is a living thing, a sort of spirit.’
He carried on sharpening his blade. ‘We Romans have a deity called Mars who is the god of war. He was the father of Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome, and he wears armour, a crested helmet and carries a shield. On the eve of battle I pray to him that he will give me the strength to be a good soldier and will grant me victory. That, or a noble death.’
In all the years that I had known him I had never heard Domitus speak thus, but it cheered me that that he had a reflective side and was not wholly a man of iron.