The arrival of Orodes and his five hundred cataphracts had been a welcome addition to the army, but they had also presented me with a dilemma. They had never worked with any element of Dura’s army. I therefore had no choice but to place them on the extreme right of the right flank. I would have liked them as a reserve, but no Parthian lord, much less a prince, would accept such a passive roll on the battlefield.
As the army spread out into a battle line, mounted on Remus I faced Nergal and Orodes, with Domitus standing beside me. Already my throat was tickly on account of the dust that was being kicked up by men and horses.
‘Do you have any more orders, Pacorus?’ asked Domitus, who clearly wanted to be leading his men rather than standing here.
‘No,’ I replied, ‘as we planned, as soon as I hear your trumpets I will attack their left wing. The rest is in God’s hands.’
He nodded and put on his white-crested helmet. ‘Well, then, the gods keep you safe.’ I lent down and offered him my hand. He took it and nodded, then strode away to rejoin his men. I knew that he would be in the vanguard of the attack. It was useless to suggest to him that he do otherwise as I would do the same. Some kings commanded their armies from the rear, but I had always believed that men respected a general more who led from the front. In any case it was the Parthian way.
‘Shamash protect you, Pacorus,’ said Nergal, who put his hand to his helmet and then wheeled his horse away to join his men who were acting as a screen in front of the legion. I raised my hand in salute.
‘Well, lord prince,’ I said to Orodes, ‘shall we join our men?’
We had both placed the butt end of our heavy lances on the ground, but we now hoisted them up and rested them on our shoulders as we trotted over to the right flank.
As we passed the lords, their men began raising their bows aloft and cheering. I raised my hand in recognition.
‘Your men are confident of victory,’ remarked Orodes.
‘They are glad that we have the enemy finally cornered, I think. Men don’t like foreign soldiers in their homelands.’
Byrd and Malik rode up, halting in front of me, both they and their horses covered in dust.
‘Romani army left camp earlier and is forming up next to river, as you told us it would,’ said Byrd.
‘And Furius?’ I asked.
Byrd cracked a smile. ‘Riding up and down, shouting at his men.’
‘Same old Furius,’ I muttered.
‘Where do want me and my men, Pacorus?’ asked Malik.
‘You can choose your own spot, lord prince,’ I said.
The whole army had by now deployed into its battle formations and was marching in a southerly direction at a leisurely pace. I rode forward to be at the head of my heavy cavalry, bidding Orodes farewell as he galloped over to be with his own men. Most of my cataphracts were bare headed at this stage. The day was already hot; there was no need for them to sweat buckets unnecessarily. They would put on their helmets when they were needed. Ahead of the front rank rode Vagharsh carrying my griffin banner, though when the charge was launched he would fall back to the second rank, and if he fell the standard would be picked up by another. There was no breeze, though, and so the banner hung limp. Behind him the cataphracts and horse archers shared jokes and exchanged insults. I halted beside Vagharsh and peered ahead. I could see Dura and the Citadel in the distance but strained to see the Romans in the plain below. We were less than ten miles from the city now. To my left four thousand legionaries marched in step towards the enemy and beyond them, out of sight, were the men of Pontus.
So far, so good. The atmosphere was calm, almost serene, and were it not for the fact that we were fully armoured and armed, the horses could have been on a morning stroll. I could make out the enemy now, small black blocks in the distance.
On we went, nearing the enemy ranks. We kept aligned to the legion to our left, the rhythmic sound of thousands of sandals hitting the ground in unison filling the air. Some of the horses, sensing men’s nervousness and fear, became jittery and had to be calmed by their riders. Remus, long used to the sights and sounds of battle, showed no signs of emotion. I could see the Roman cavalry now, men armed with lances and shields massing on their left wing, and I could also make out archers on horseback, men who were bare chested and wore no head armour. The Romans had deployed as I had expected them to do.
We halted as the Romans deployed into line, their right flank anchored on the river. I knew that Furius would not wait long before he ordered an attack and so did Domitus. And so my Roman friend launched his assault first, the blast of trumpet calls suddenly filling the air to signal the start of the battle. I glanced left and saw the Duran Legion moving forward like it was on the parade ground, then turned and gave the signal for the cavalry to likewise advance.
I nudged Remus to walk forward as the horns sounded along the line. I urged him to quicken the pace and he broke into a canter. I glanced behind and saw full-face helmets on my cataphracts. Between them, horse archers, their reins wrapped around their left wrist, were stringing arrows in their bows. Vagharsh slowed and let the front rank pass him. I also pulled up Remus momentarily to allow the front rank to catch me up — I had confidence in my men but did not want to be shot in the back by mistake by an archer whose thumb slipped. We were widely spaced as our horses broke into a gallop and as one we levelled our lances at the fast-approaching enemy, holding the thick shafts with both hands on our right sides. I estimated our distance from the Roman cavalry to be four hundred paces.
They scattered before we reached them.
In an effort to break up our charge they had placed mounted archers among their horsemen, but Parthian recurve bows have greater range than Roman ones and our arrows were finding their targets before they had a chance to reply. If the enemy cavalry had reckoned their chances had improved by stiffening their ranks with archers, they disappeared when those same archers began to turn and flee. Some enemy spearmen had advanced towards us in an attempt to mount their own charge, but these now halted in confusion when they saw their ranks thinning. Many turned and joined the archers in attempting to flee, others just sat in their saddles and tried to redress their lines, while a few, a tiny number, levelled their spears and charged us. They were the first to fall, either pierced by arrows themselves or thrown by their horses as iron-tipped arrows slammed into their mounts. The air was rent with the screams of wounded and dying horses as we thundered across the baked ground.
The Roman cavalry was now fleeing back to the safety of its camp. There was little point in chasing after them with three enemy legions still on the field, so I slowed Remus and those either side of me did the same with their own animals. Horns sounded recall and the whole line slowed into a canter, then a trot and finally a walk. I turned and looked up and down the line. There appeared to be no empty saddles. Behind us the lords, as planned, were veering left at the head of their men to attack the Roman legions from behind, the sounds of thousands of iron-shod hooves like thunder to our ears. Orodes rode up.
‘That was easy enough.’
I pointed ahead at the Roman cavalry, which had stopped running and was now attempting to reform. ‘They’ll be back unless we can disperse them.’
I called the commander of the horse archers forward and ordered him to take his men forward to irritate the Roman horse. ‘Stay out of range of their bows and drop as many as you can. If they advance, you retreat. But keep shooting at them. Be like flies around camel dung. Above all, keep them away from their foot. Go.’
He saluted and rode away. Seconds later horns sounded and his men were forming into their companies and trotting forward once more. Following on behind were three score of camels carrying extra quivers of arrows.