Then she and the Amazons were gone.
‘That’s the second time you have come close to death today,’ I said, ‘and whereas for most of us it is the enemy who presents the greatest danger, you appear intent on being killed by your own side.’
‘Do you really think that I am a good squire?’ asked Surena.
I cuffed him round the ears. ‘Shut up. Tonight you will join the burial details to collect the dead.’
After Remus had been watered and rested I rode him back to the city. When I arrived at the Citadel, Gallia, her Amazons, Godarz and Rsan were waiting at the foot of the palace steps, as were a host of black-clad Agraci warriors. Each one had black tattoos on their face in a similar fashion to those sported by Malik. I embraced Godarz.
‘It is good to see you, old friend.’
‘You too, Pacorus.’ He released me and stared. ‘You have lost weight and look weary.’
‘Now I am home, I can rest,’ I replied.
Rsan bowed his head formally. ‘It is most excellent to see you again, majesty.’
I looked past him at the doors of the treasury, both of them shut and secured with heavy chains. Domitus was right about Rsan — it would take more than a besieging army to tear him away from his hoard of silver and gold.
I dismissed them all and went with Gallia straight to the palace balcony where Dobbai held the sleeping Claudia in her arms, the old woman gently rocking the child and humming a soft tune to her. It was remarkable that one so foul and ferocious could be so tender. Dobbai saw me and nodded, then handed me my child. I brushed Claudia’s face with a finger and kissed her forehead. I said nothing for a long time as I sat holding my daughter, day turning to night, with Gallia and Dobbai seated beside me. I stared into the distance, across the calm, mirror-like waters of the Euphrates and into the black void beyond. To the north of the city funeral pyres burned brightly as thousands of corpses were consigned to the flames. At length Gallia came to my side and whispered that it was time for Claudia to be placed in her cot. I kissed her small cheek and handed her to my wife.
‘You do not seem pleased with your great victory, son of Hatra,’ observed Dobbai.
I looked at her black eyes. ‘I’ve beaten Romans before.’
‘There is something else. What is it?’
I turned away from her. ‘It is of no consequence.’
She persisted. ‘If it is of no consequence, then why does it eat away at you like maggots in a rotting corpse?’
Gallia returned from our bedroom. ‘I know there is something wrong, so you might as well tell us.’
‘Indeed,’ added Dobbai, ‘for it is unbecoming for the king to sulk like a small boy.’
I stood up and pointed at her. ‘Remember that I am your king and could have your head for your impertinence.’
Gallia was outraged. ‘Do not speak to Dobbai like that. You would not be king were it not for her.’
Dobbai grinned. ‘It is all right, child, the king has other things on his mind rather than adorning his walls with my ugly old skull. Is that not so, son of Hatra?’
I slumped back in my chair and told them of Furius’ words just before he had been killed, of how Dura had been given to the Romans in exchange for Gordyene. I could not hide my disappointment that bordered on despair.
‘And you believed him?’ asked Gallia.
‘Why would he lie?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Because he is a Roman. And that particular Roman would say anything to rile you.’
I laughed, the first time I had done so that day. ‘That was my initial thought, but now I am not so sure.’
‘The Roman spoke the truth,’ said Dobbai.
‘How do you know this?’ I asked.
‘Because giving away Dura is a small price to pay to solve a far bigger problem.’
My limbs were starting to ache and I had no time for Dobbai’s word games. ‘You speak in riddles, old woman. What bigger problem?’
She shook her head. ‘For a great warlord you have the brains of a camel. You, son of Hatra, are the problem.’
‘Clearly,’ I retorted, ‘what little sense you had has finally deserted you. In case you have not noticed, I have just defeated an invading army and can now go to Hatra’s aid, which is under assault from another Roman army. I hardly think that makes me a problem, more like a saviour.’
‘To some, perhaps, but to others your ability on the battlefield is no cause for celebration. You have greater enemies than the Romans.’
‘Narses and Mithridates,’ the names stuck in my throat.
‘Exactly,’ said Dobbai. ‘Your success here will be like taking a poison for them.
‘When the army is rested and has recovered its strength,’ I said, ‘I will take it east and destroy Narses, and this time I will kill him.’
‘Why must you do it?’ asked Gallia. ‘There are other kings who also have armies.’
I held her face and kissed her on the lips. ‘Because it is personal between him and me.’
‘You might find it more difficult than you think,’ muttered Dobbai.
‘What do you know of war?’
She held up her hands to me in mockery. ‘Nothing, mighty one, nothing.’
The next day I surveyed the damage the Romans had done to the city’s defences. Aside from the minor battering the western wall and gates had taken from stone shot and ballista bolts, the other defences were almost untouched. As Domitus had predicted, the enemy had attempted to take the city by storm after they had first arrived.
I stood with Gallia beside the stone griffin at the Palmyrene Gate looking to the west.
‘They came in great waves, the front ranks carrying scaling ladders and their archers and slingers covering their approach.’
She cast me a sideways glance and smiled. ‘We had no one exposed on the walls, but as soon as they came within range we threw the Chinese liquid you obtained at them. As we were taught we loaded it into earthen pots sealed with wax and with pitch-soaked rags attached, which we then lit. After the pots had been launched they shattered on impact and sprayed their burning contents on to the enemy. It was horrible.’
‘But effective,’ I said.
‘Yes, the sticky liquid that cannot be put out disrupted their attack, and then my girls began shooting arrows at them from within the towers. That brought their attack to an end.’
‘Did they try any other attacks?’
‘One more, but again it was stopped by Chinese fire and arrows. Then they settled down to starving us out.’
I ran my hand over the stone griffin. ‘Not a scratch on him.’
Gallia smiled. ‘Dobbai says that no mortal weapon can mark him.’
I nodded. ‘So it seems. Why are Haytham’s men here?’
‘They arrived two days before the Romans. Their commander brought a message from Haytham saying that as we had protected his daughter, it was only fitting that he should return the courtesy. They even brought their own food so they would not sap our supplies.’
As we stood on the battlements, a procession of wagons ferried the captured Roman arms and armour into the city and transported them to the armoury. Our victory had reaped a rich harvest, though I did not envy the parties that had been selected by drawing lots to scour the battlefield, collecting weapons, stripping the dead and digging arrowheads out of flesh. Iron and steel were too valuable to throw away.
That afternoon I sat in the throne room and heard the reports of Nergal and Domitus. Gallia and Orodes were sitting either side of me, while Byrd and Malik stood to one side and the lords were assembled in front of me.
Domitus’ arm was heavily bandaged but he looked in good spirits despite his wound. ‘The legion lost two hundred dead and another two hundred wounded, of which around fifty give or take will probably die.’
‘And the men of Pontus?’ I asked.
‘They suffered more than your legion. Five hundred dead and another four hundred wounded. They got well and truly mauled.’
I looked at Nergal.
‘We lost only a hundred horse archers and fifty horses. The lords likewise suffered only light casualties. Of your cataphracts, twenty-two are dead.’