Domitus turned to me. ‘I’ll finish this,’ and made to leave our viewing platform.
‘Stay where you are, Domitus,’ commanded Gallia, who nodded at the executioner. He nodded back, raised his sword once more then finally severed Polemo’s head. Blood poured from the headless torso as a weeping Nadira was forced down on her knees. No doubt she was being tortured by the thought of enduring the same treatment as Polemo. Domitus returned to his place as the executioner lopped off Nadira’s head with a single blow. Thus was the grisly spectacle brought to an end.
The two lifeless bodies were dumped on a cart as the populace returned to their daily lives. Rsan walked over to the edge of the platform and threw up. Haytham regarded an iron-visaged Gallia and smiled. Orodes was most unhappy and Malik was frowning. Domitus stood and looked bemused as his soldiers ushered the remnants of the crowd from the square.
‘There was no need for that,’ I said to Gallia.
‘If I had had my way,’ she said slowly and loudly enough for everyone around us to hear, ‘their deaths would have lasted for days. They got off lightly.’
With that she turned away from me and marched from the platform. Domitus slapped me on the arm.
‘Perhaps you should stay here and let Gallia march against Mithridates. That way the war will be over in no time at all.’
I shook my head. ‘I think not. There will be no one left alive from here to the Himalayas if I unleash her on the empire.’
The grisly episode was now over and it was time for the army to march east and spill some more blood.
Chapter 3
Standing looking at the large hide map of the Parthian Empire hanging on the wall in the headquarters building I shook my head. Couriers had arrived from Hatra, Media and Atropaiene informing me that parties attacking from Gordyene, Cappadocia and Armenia were raiding them. My father wrote that once again horsemen were attacking his northern towns and cities, including Nisibus whose governor was my childhood friend Vata. I was not unduly concerned about these reports as Hatra’s army was more than capable of dealing with mere raiding parties. The same was true of Media and Atropaiene, ruled by Farhad and Aschek respectively. Still, if these raids presaged a general war with Rome, since Armenia was its client state and the Romans occupied Gordyene, then once again the empire would be under threat. I had comforted myself with the knowledge that to the east of these two realms were the kingdoms of Hyrcania and Margiana, both of which had alliances with Aschek and Farhad and both of which could raise sizeable armies. But then news reached us that the northern borders had erupted into violence and both Hyrcania and Margiana were also under assault. King Khosrou, the fierce ruler of Margiana, had written to me stating that the tribes that inhabited the great steppes to the north of his kingdom had attacked his frontier outposts and were marching against his capital, Merv. The entire northern border of the empire was in flames.
‘What are the chances of the Romans, Armenians and the tribes of the steppes working in cooperation, do you think?’ asked Domitus, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.
I shook my head again. ‘Almost nil.’
He jumped out of his chair. ‘Exactly.’
‘I thought Khosrou had peace with the northern tribes,’ said Orodes.
‘That is what he told me at Esfahan,’ I replied, ‘though that was a while ago. Perhaps relationships between the two have deteriorated since then.’
Domitus drew his dagger and used it to point at the map, moving the point from Hatra to the east towards the Caspian Sea and beyond.
‘It cannot be a coincidence that all the kingdoms under assault are friends of Dura. I detect the hand of Mithridates in all this.’
I was confused. ‘He sent assassins to kill me. If he wanted to harm Dura then he and Narses would lead their army against us. I suspect the Romans are behind this rather than Mithridates.’
‘After all these years and after so much blood, you still act like a dotard, son of Hatra.’
Dobbai walked into the room accompanied by Gallia, who threw a despatch on the table. I picked it up.
‘What is this?’
‘An appeal from Gotarzes. His kingdom is assaulted by Narses.’
King Gotarzes was the ruler of Elymais, a land across the Tigris that lay to the east of Nergal’s realm of Mesene. A valuable ally and trusted friend, Gotarzes had the great misfortune to rule a kingdom that had Narses’ own kingdom of Persis to the south and Susiana, the domain of Mithridates, to the north. He had fought by my side against both of them and now Narses was attacking him.
‘You can forget about the Romans, then,’ said Domitus. ‘This is the handiwork of Mithridates.’
‘The Roman speaks the truth,’ said Dobbai. ‘I did warn you not to underestimate Mithridates.’
‘We have to help Gotarzes,’ said Gallia.
I looked at the map once more. That was easier said than done. It was over five hundred miles from Dura to the city of Elymais, the capital of Gotarzes’ kingdom — it would take nearly four weeks to get there unimpeded, more if we encountered any resistance along the way.
‘Gotarzes is beyond help,’ remarked Dobbai. ‘If he had any sense, which he doesn’t, he would abandon his city and flee.’
‘He would never do that,’ insisted Orodes, ‘he is a man of honour.’
Dobbai sat in one of the chairs around the table. ‘Soon to be a dead man of honour.’
‘The army is assembled, is it not?’ asked Gallia.
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘Well, then, we can march to assist Gotarzes.’
I looked at her, then at Domitus and Orodes. They were thinking the same as me — we would be marching into a trap.
‘No,’ I said, ‘we will stick to the original plan. We will strike for Ctesiphon first and then march into Susiana. Hopefully Gotarzes can hold out until we can organise his relief.’
‘That is the best course of action,’ said Domitus.
‘It is sound strategy,’ remarked Orodes.
Gallia was going to object but was stilled by Dobbai. ‘What they say is correct, child. Gotarzes is the bait that Mithridates dangles in front of your husband’s eyes. To take it would spell the end of the King of Dura and his army.’
Orodes folded his arms and looked very grave while Domitus went back to studying the map. Dobbai watched him like a hawk. At length he spoke.
‘How does Mithridates benefit from inciting outsiders to attack his empire?’
Dobbai cackled. ‘A good question, Roman, and one that has a simple answer.’
‘Which is?’ I asked irritably. Sometimes she sorely tested my patience.
She sighed. ‘All of you,’ she pointed at me, Orodes and Domitus with a bony finger, ‘labour under the delusion that everyone thinks and acts the same as you. They do not. Mithridates and Narses desire above all to rid the world of the King of Dura.’
‘Then why don’t they march against me?’ I asked.
Dobbai looked at me in exasperation. ‘I sometimes think that Coalemus himself has rented your body.’
‘Who is Coalemus’ queries Domitus.
‘The god of idiots,’ replied Orodes, none too pleased at Dobbai’s insolence. Gallia laughed aloud.
‘You have, son of Hatra,’ said Dobbai very slowly so I would understand what she was saying, ‘beaten both Mithridates and Narses in battle, so they obviously see little merit in tangling with you again, at least not until they are certain of victory.’