The archers nocked arrows as our raft glided past the tower and then along the walls of the palace and still we had not been spotted. I was beginning to think that my plan was flawless when an alarm bell suddenly sounded in the tower and then we heard shouts of alarm from within the palace.
‘Look lively,’ shouted Domitus as the oarsman steered the raft past the palace towards the harbour, which comprised a long wharf in front of which were berths where shallow-draft riverboats were moored. Set back from the wharf were sheds and warehouses and immediately south was the bridge. As our raft neared the first berth Domitus leapt onto it and ran towards the quay. I followed him as the others also jumped from the raft and ran to form up beside Domitus on the quay. The other rafts were gliding into the harbour as arrows shot from the palace walls splashed into the water. Around ten rafts had made it into the harbour area unscathed but the rest would have to run the gauntlet of arrows that was now being directed at them. The centurion on each raft shouted his commands and the men instantly formed a testudo on each vessel, locking shields on all sides and above, ensuring that the archers and oarsman were also under the scutums.
On the quay centurions bellowed orders at their men to assemble in their ranks as the archers ran past them to form a defensive screen at the northern end of the quay while the centuries formed up. I stood in the centre of the line of archers as the first enemy soldiers rushed us. These men were no doubt from the palace as most of the garrison would be lining the walls in response to the attack by Marcus’ siege engines. They carried large wicker shields and wore leather cuirasses with linen caps on their heads. They levelled their long spears as they charged us in a disorganised mob and we shot half of them down before they got within fifty paces. The rest stopped and then withdrew as we loosed another volley of arrows and then another and another, this time killing less of them as they formed a shield wall and continued to fall back. More of their comrades appeared behind them and then the shouts of their angry officers made them halt and reform their ranks.
Fortunately there appeared to be no archers with them as they shuffled forward warily and into our arrow storm as we emptied one quiver and then fell back ourselves. The leather-faced wicker shields could stop arrows easily enough but our volleys had allowed the rest of the rafts to disgorge their men without interruption, and now a thousand legionaries were rushing to the bridge as the other fifteen hundred marched forward to engage the upwards of four hundred enemy spearmen who faced them at the northern end of the quay.
The quay was wide enough to allow three centuries to stand in line — a front rank of thirty men — as the centurions blew their whistles and their men charged the enemy. There was a loud bang as the Durans slammed into their opponents and went to work with their short swords. The long spears of the enemy were brushed aside by the front ranks and then the shafts were grasped by those behind, preventing their owners thrusting them into the guts of the legionaries, as the front rank of the Durans stabbed the point of their swords at enemy flesh and herded the spearmen back.
While this was going on Thumelicus was leading the other centuries to the bridge where the sentries were quickly killed and both sides of the aged span were secured.
Arrows then hit several men at the rear of the column fighting the spearmen as the palace archers finally arrived on the scene. The cry of ‘shields, shields’ rang out as the Durans hoisted their shields above their heads for protection as the front ranks continued to grind their way forward.
My archers were grouped around me and I ordered them to shoot at the enemy archers, who were at least three hundred paces away. Thus began a desultory archery contest in the moonlight as men tried to identify targets. Domitus came running over to me.
‘Thumelicus has taken the bridge,’ he said. ‘We are herding the others back despite the archers. It won’t be long now.’
An archer near to us collapsed to the ground with an arrow in his shoulder.
‘Keep shooting,’ I shouted at the others. ‘Keep their heads down.’
The column of Durans was steadily pushing the spearmen back, hacking their ranks to pieces as they did so. Then enemy arrows stopped falling nearby as the opposition archers directed their volleys at the Duran front ranks to allow the surviving spearmen to disengage and fall back towards the palace.
The wounded were helped to the bridge where they could be cared for while Domitus reorganised his men. He allocated three centuries to shadow the retreating spearmen and left two others on the quay as a reserve for Thumelicus holding the bridge. The rest followed the archers and me as we moved into the city.
Seleucia’s inhabitants were hiding indoors as we moved from the harbour along the main street west towards the city’s main gates that were being assaulted by Marcus. We did not see a soul as a thousand legionaries and five hundred archers moved quietly through a seemingly deserted city. Ahead the cheers and shouts of my men outside the city walls continued, accompanied by the thud of missiles hitting the gates. And as we approached the latter the night sky was illuminated by a red glow — the gates were on fire.
As Domitus sent parties ahead to reconnoitre the city we halted on the main road that bisected the city and ran east across the Tigris. North of this thoroughfare stood the palace, temples and official buildings, south of it the area where the citizens’ tiny homes were crammed.
‘Most of the garrison will be lining the walls watching Marcus’ engines knocking holes in the gatehouse,’ I said to Domitus. ‘The rest are now cooped up in the palace. But we must assault the men lining the walls so our men outside the city can get in without loss.’
‘Best thing, then, is to split the boys into their centuries and allocate archers to each one. We don’t have enough men to clear all the walls.
I shook my head. ‘There is no need. We just need to clear the walls either side of the main gates.’
It took a matter of minutes to organise the twelve centuries and assign each one forty archers for the assault on the walls. The scouting parties returned to inform us that there were no signs of any enemy soldiers between our position and the gatehouse and so we began to move forward once more, three centuries abreast. There were no whistles or commands just the dull crump of hobnailed sandals on the stone-paved street. I could see the main gatehouse now, which was wreathed in flames, both the gates and the large square towers either side of them alight. The flames were illuminating the surrounding area and I could see that the walls either side of the gatehouse were lined with archers, who were standing well away from the heat and flames. There was also a large body of spearmen formed up in a phalanx around a hundred paces back from the burning gatehouse, ready to repel any assault once the flames had died down.
Domitus beside me cursed. ‘That’s the plan wrecked. We will have to deal with those spearmen first.’
I nodded. ‘Hit them hard. The archers will still try to clear the walls. Good luck.’
I held my bow aloft and then ran to the right as enemy horn blasts signalled that we had been spotted. On our left flank the homes of the city’s citizens went right up to the walls, but on our right flank the ground behind the walls was more open as this was the temple district. I squatted with the officers of the archers around me as ahead the commanders of the spearmen were frantically reorganising their men to assault the legionaries that had suddenly appeared behind them.