I heard a low cackle. ‘Peace, son of Hatra? And how will a great warlord amuse himself if there are no enemies to conquer?’
‘He will watch his daughters grow up and inherit his kingdom, that is how.’
Dobbai focused her black eyes on me. ‘Have you forgotten my words?’
I had. ‘What words?’
She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I don’t know how you put up with him, child,’ she said to Gallia. ‘His mind is like a great steppe: vast in its emptiness. I once told you, son of Hatra, that you would face two great armies, one from the east and one from the west, and so you will before you hang up your sword.’
‘I have faced these two hosts,’ I replied smugly, ‘the Armenians in the west and Narses and Mithridates in the east.’
‘Your infantile attempt to trick me has failed,’ she snapped. ‘You did not fight the Armenians, but you will have to fight the Romans.’
I laughed. ‘The Romans? They are preoccupied with fighting the Jews. They will not be troubling Parthia for a long time.’
But a month later, at the weekly council meeting, I was disabused of such notions when Aaron informed me that Alexander’s forces had suffered a crippling defeat in Judea and had been scattered. Byrd and Malik had also ridden to Dura to attend the meeting and they conveyed worse news.
‘My office in Antioch,’ said Byrd, looking at me apologetically, ‘reports that Mithridates and his mother are in the city.’
These were ill tidings indeed. ‘What is he doing there?’ I asked, hoping that the answer would be that he was preparing to leave for exile in Rome.
‘He and Romani governor plan to invade Parthia,’ replied Byrd.
‘Your failure to kill Mithridates returns to haunt you,’ remarked Dobbai idly.
‘Is Alexander dead?’ I asked Aaron.
‘Not as far as I know, majesty,’ he replied.
‘Roman patrols are entering Agraci territory, Pacorus,’ said Malik. ‘Lord Vehrka’s men are encountering them on a daily basis.’
‘I am certain Alexander will continue his war against the Romans, majesty,’ said Aaron, probably trying to convince himself in addition to me.
‘The Jews will soon be crushed,’ said Dobbai, ‘and then the Romans will turn their attention towards Parthia. You have little time to prepare, son of Hatra.’
I looked at Domitus. ‘Has there been any activity on our northern border.’
He shook his head. ‘None’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘even if the Jews fail there are still only two legions in Syria that we can match with our own two, and we far outnumber them in horsemen.’
Domitus looked at Byrd. ‘Tell him.’
An icy feeling went down my spine. ‘Tell me what?’
‘I have heard other rumours, Pacorus, reports that have come from captains of merchant ships. They say that Marcus Licinius Crassus will soon leave Rome to make war against Parthia. They say he will march at the head of seven legions.’
Now I was alarmed. Seven legions plus supporting horsemen added to the other two legions in Syria would pose a serious threat to the empire, not least to Dura.
‘How confident are you, Byrd, that these rumours are accurate?’
He frowned. ‘My sources are reliable.’
‘We must inform Orodes at Ctesiphon,’ I said. ‘Perhaps he can persuade the Romans not to commence hostilities against Parthia.’
‘Mithridates wants his crown back,’ remarked Dobbai, a hint of relish in her voice.
‘If the Romans put him back on his throne then he will be nothing more than a puppet ruler,’ said Gallia.
‘Better a puppet ruler than no ruler at all,’ replied Dobbai.
‘How long before Crassus gets here?’ I asked Byrd.
‘He has not left Rome yet. We have many weeks to prepare.’
I was unconcerned regarding Mithridates. He had no army behind him and little money with which to raise a new one. But his presence at Antioch provided the Romans with a pretext for starting a war with Parthia. Once Crassus arrived in Syria they would have nine legions on Dura’s northern border, in addition to cavalry.
‘We could always strike first,’ suggested Domitus casually.
Everyone looked at him. ‘If the Romans are going to invade then why not strike the first blow? We can be across the border with fifty thousand men and capture Antioch before Crassus and his legions set foot in Syria.’
I had to admit that I was tempted. I trusted Byrd and knew he would not reveal any information to me that he did not think was accurate. Still, to launch an unprovoked war against the Romans was no small thing, and would mean that I would not have the support of the other kingdoms in the empire. I also knew that Orodes would take a very dim view of such a measure. If, however, the empire was attacked then Dura would have the support of the other kingdoms. That said, if Mithridates was accompanying the Romans he would insist on marching via Dura to storm the city. But Dura’s walls were thick and its defences strong. A Roman army would have to conduct a lengthy siege to take it, during which time Orodes would be able to rally the empire against the invaders. And I knew that I could also rely on Haytham for support.
‘No,’ I said, ‘we will not launch an attack against Syria. I have no interest in conquering that province, which I would have to do if we invaded it.’
‘You don’t need to conquer it, just capture Antioch and kill Mithridates,’ argued Domitus.
‘And after we have done that,’ I replied, ‘what then?’
Domitus shrugged. ‘Then we withdraw to Dura.’
‘And when Crassus arrives with his army he will still march against us.’
‘But at least he won’t have the two Syrian legions if they have been destroyed,’ retorted Domitus.
I was unmoved. ‘No, we await developments. Having just finished fighting one war I have no desire to immediately embark upon another. The army needs time to rest and rebuild its strength.’
Rsan looked visibly relieved by my decision while Aaron looked disappointment. Alexander’s rebellion had always been a gamble. It was one thing supplying rebels with weapons, quite another for them to defeat the Roman occupiers. Well-armed bandits with excellent local knowledge would always be able to achieve success against isolated outposts and small garrisons, but Alexander aspired to be a general and to defeat the Romans on the battlefield, something that was very different and much harder to achieve.
That night I wrote to Orodes and Gafarn informing them of Byrd’s information and the whereabouts of Mithridates. Gallia had increased the number of guards on the city walls and in the Citadel, fearing that the former high king would again send assassins to kill me, and after the council meeting Dobbai had advised me to send my own assassins to Antioch to rid the world of Mithridates. I told her I would do no such thing. When I had finished writing it was late and the oil in my table lamp was burning low. The night was warm and there was no wind to stir the linen nets at the entrance from our bedroom to the balcony.
I looked at my sword in its scabbard propped up against the desk. It was eighteen years since Spartacus had given it to me when I had been a fresh-faced young man. Now I was forty years old and had known nothing but constant war during the intervening years. But I cheered myself with the thought that at least now the empire was united against its external enemies. If it came to war then I would not be fighting the Romans with one hand and Mithridates with the other.
I heard a rustle coming from the balcony. I drew my spatha from its scabbard and used it to ease aside one of the linen nets to see a huge black raven perched on the balustrade. He noticed the movement and turned his shaggy feathered neck to stare at me with his soulless eyes. I held his gaze and then he ducked his head forward and made a low, throaty rattling sound before spreading his wings and flying away.
The next day I sent the letters to Hatra and Ctesiphon and told Gallia about the visit of the raven while we sat on the palace terrace taking breakfast with our girls and Dobbai.