Orodes took off his helmet, his sweat-soaked hair matted to his skull, and beamed at me. ‘Hail, Pacorus. Hope we haven’t missed the fun.’
I nudged Remus forward and shook his hand.
‘Welcome, my friend, it is indeed good to see you.’
He looked behind him. ‘Five hundred heavy cavalry, my personal bodyguard. All I could bring, I regret to say. My dear brother ensured that my father prohibited any more of Susiana’s army coming to your aid. But only I command my bodyguard, and where I go, it follows.’
I smiled at him. I raised my voice so his men would hear. ‘I welcome the men of Susiana, and when the enemy learns of their arrival they will tremble, so great is the terror that the warriors of Susa spread before them.’ They raised their long lances and gave a mighty cheer. At that moment a panting Domitus arrived, rivulets of sweat running down his face.
‘Domitus,’ I said. ‘Prince Orodes has brought reinforcements. Behold, the finest men in Susiana.’
Domitus took of his helmet and wiped his face with a cloth, then replaced his white-crested headgear. He pointed at Orodes.
‘It would have helped if you had sent couriers ahead to warn us of your approach, to save us having to piss around changing direction and formation under this bloody hot sun.’
With that he turned and ran back to his officers.
‘My apologies, Orodes, Domitus can be a little brusque.’
‘Nonsense, he’s right. I’m just glad that he’s on our side.’
It took an hour before the army was ready to commence its march south once more, during which time the horsemen from Susiana rested and took off their scale armour, also stripping their horses of the cumbersome protection. Then it was loaded onto the backs of the thousand camels that Orodes had brought with him, ill-tempered, spitting beasts that carried tents, thousands of arrows, spare weapons and armour, food and medical supplies. There were also a thousand squires, each one riding a horse and armed with a bow, quiver and sword. It was actually a small army that Orodes had brought. In temperament he was much like Nergal, being carefree, cheerful and trusting, in fact everything his step-brother was not. You liked Orodes on sight, and when you got to know him better you realised that your initial impression of him was correct. He was also one of life’s optimists, which made him popular among his men and people. And, in stark contrast to Mithridates, he was fair-minded and absolutely trustworthy.
Once the army had recommenced its journey south, Orodes rode beside me with Nergal on my other side.
‘I heard about your demotion,’ he said, ‘and then word reached me that you had been killed.’
‘Well, one of those rumours was true, and if Narses and Chosroes had had their way my head would be adorning one of the gates into Uruk by now.’
Orodes shook his head. ‘I cannot believe that Chosroes has betrayed us.’
‘I can,’ I replied. ‘Narses is clever. He has promised Chosroes great wealth and power in return for his aid, and Chosroes, being eaten away by jealousy and greed, most probably did not take much persuading.’
‘Narses must know that he has no chance.’
‘I’m afraid, my friend, that he has every chance. The Roman incursions into Hatra and Dura must have seemed like a gift from the gods to him, especially as Media and Atropaiene lie weakened and unable to assist us. What news of Media?’
‘The Romans have made no attempt to lay siege to Irbil, but Farhad and Aschek lack the will and soldiers to trouble them. Events in Hatra and Dura will decide Media’s fate, I fear.’
I did not look at Orodes when I asked him the next question. ‘And what of Mithridates?’
Orodes spat on the ground. ‘He and my step-mother control my father, and thus control Ctesiphon and Susiana. No aid will be sent to you or your father, or for that matter to Vardan.’
‘So Babylon still defies Narses?’ I asked.
‘For the moment, yes, but if no aid arrives then Narses will starve it into surrender.’
After that we rode on in silence, but we all knew that Mithridates was still an ally of Narses. He was playing the long game, waiting to see how events would unravel. I had no doubt that he was behind my attempted murder, but the fact that I still lived did not necessarily negate his plans. He knew that I had to defeat the Romans before I could aid Hatra or Media, and that my father was occupied with dealing with the Roman invasion of his own kingdom. I would not put it past Mithridates to have been in communication with the Romans, perhaps even Crassus himself. It all seemed very convenient, too convenient. I should have killed him as well as Narses. At that moment the world seemed full of people that I should have killed but who were still in arms against me. Useless thoughts. I dismissed them from my mind. One battle at a time.
The night was clear and warm, and Domitus had sited his camp near the river so men and animals could quench their thirsts. It had been a hard day’s march, and everyone was glad to have the opportunity to rest at the end of it. Malik and Byrd rode into camp late in the evening and reported to my command tent. Domitus was stretched out on the floor, his eyes closed, his gladius beside him. I was sitting in a chair opposite Orodes, whose men and animals were camped two miles to the north. We were now approximately ten miles from Dura.
More of Malik’s warriors had arrived during the past two days and he had used them to aid the cavalry screen Nergal had established in front of the army, both to report on the enemy’s movements and to keep Roman eyes away from Dura’s army. Byrd, true to form, kept his own counsel and went where he wanted, though he always returned with valuable intelligence.
‘Romani getting ready to fight you,’ he said, filling a cup with water from a jug on the table. ‘Much activity in their camp. Romani soldiers not happy.’
I was surprised at this. ‘How do you know that they are unhappy?’
He looked at me as if I had asked a ridiculous question. ‘I speak to them, of course.’
This aroused the interest of Domitus, who opened his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow. ‘You spoke to them?’
‘Of course. They grumble like old women.’
‘You rode into their camp?’ Orodes was amazed.
Byrd frowned at him. ‘No, I take cart and mule and load it with fruit, then drive it into their camp. I say I Agraci and they no question me further. I not look like soldier.’
He was right there, with his ragged, dirty Agraci robe, wild hair and unshaven face. If only the Romans had known that they had been buying fruit from the finest scout in the Parthian Empire.
‘They not like Dura, say it is too tough a nut to crack. They were promised an easy victory but have suffered big losses. Say it is insult to their manhood to be held at bay by a woman. They grumble of witchcraft.’
‘Witchcraft?’ asked Orodes.
‘Romani soldiers have been pierced by poisoned arrows shot from Dura’s towers. They believed they were at safe distance but arrows found them anyway. Arrows smeared with poison. Romani soldiers who were hit lost use of legs, went blind, then went mad before they died in agony.’
‘Well, she never ceases to amaze me,’ said Domitus.
‘Who?’ I asked.
‘Your old witch, of course. A few weeks ago she came to me and said she wanted some of my men to go hunting, said it was essential for the security of the city.’
Domitus told us how Dobbai had persuaded him to send a century to hunt down as many Arabian cobras as they could find. They came back with two score of the deadly reptiles. Dobbai had them milked of their poison, then killed and skinned them. The snake poison and flesh were mixed with dung and left to putrefy, after which the Amazons smeared their arrows with the poisonous substance.