‘You are wasting your spit,’ growled Domitus. ‘He’s got us where he wants us. The last thing he’ll do is make any rash moves.’
‘Give me some men, lord,’ said Surena, who appeared remarkably fresh despite his participation in the battle. ‘I can launch an attack against them. They are very close.’
Domitus looked at him and shook his head, prompting a scowl from Surena. Domitus had always regarded Surena as volatile and reckless. For his part Surena believed Domitus to be far too cautious.
‘No, Surena,’ I replied. ‘For the moment we conserve our strength.’
Domitus looked up at the sun descending on the western horizon.
‘They won’t attack today.’
‘Knowing my stepbrother,’ added Orodes, ‘he would prefer to starve us into submission rather than offer battle.’
Narses was obviously bored with watching us as he wheeled his horse away and rode back to the camp that was being established to the south of our position. His many cataphracts and Mithridates followed the lord high general of the Parthian Empire. To the east where the earlier battle had taken place, smoke was billowing into the sky. The enemy was cremating the dead on great pyres rather than burying them. Perhaps Orodes was right — the enemy intended to starve us into submission rather than assault our camp. No general would want piles of bodies and rotting carcasses near his army. Already the flies would be swarming over dead flesh, and where there was dead flesh there would soon be plague and sickness. At least there was still a slight northerly wind that carried the stench of burning flesh to the south rather than over our camp. To the west the sky was a mass of blues and purples streaked with orange and yellow. It was a beautiful spring evening. I hoped it would not be our last.
I turned to the others. ‘Get something to eat. Council of war in an hour.’
With due reverence the griffin and lion standards were returned to their tents and guards placed around them. Officers reported to Domitus and Orodes in my command tent and clerks recorded the number of dead and wounded. When we returned to Dura, if we returned to Dura, those killed who had families would be informed of the pensions they were entitled to. Any children of the deceased would be entitled to free education and any males could be enrolled in the Sons of the Citadel scheme should they be suitable. When I had first come to Dura Domitus had insisted that his legionaries should be forbidden to marry, as was the rule in the Roman army. However, after a while many legionaries had formed relationships and had given their women part of their wages so they could rent rooms in the city. They were de facto man and wife. And when men among the cavalry began to enter into marriages it was clearly impractical and unfair to insist that the legionaries should be treated differently. Domitus grumbled but acquiesced. I suggested that he too should take a wife but he had scowled and grumbled some more so I let the matter rest.
Before the council meeting I walked round the camp and talked with as many men as possible. Despite being outnumbered and surrounded they were in remarkably good spirits, but then victory has a habit of intoxicating the soul and diminishing the size of the enemy. Walking back to my tent I threaded my way through the neat rows of eight-man tents in which the legionaries and horsemen slept. I came across one of the Companions, a Thracian named Drenis who had been a gladiator in Capua, in the same school as Spartacus. I had absolutely no idea how old he was but judging by the scars and lines on his face he must have been a veteran of a hundred battles! His arms and legs were similarly adorned with scars and marks, further mementoes of his time in the arena and on the battlefield. He had started out as a slave before becoming a gladiator, then served in the ranks of the slave army in Italy before becoming a centurion in Dura’s army. He now commanded two cohorts, the equivalent of a Roman tribune, though he would never countenance accepting a title used by his enemies. He was standing next to a brazier holding forth to a group of his centurions sitting on stools round it. They all stood up when they saw me. I indicated to them to regain their seats.
‘Ah, Pacorus,’ all the Companions were allowed such familiarity with each other, ‘I was just telling them about when that bastard Crassus had us boxed in at Rhegium, do you remember?’
‘I do indeed, I also remember it being very cold.’
I was taken back to the southern tip of Italy, to when Spartacus had led the army to the port of Rhegium prior to embarkation aboard ships of the Cilician pirates for transportation to the island of Sicily. But the pirates had betrayed us, and Crassus had built a line of earthworks and wooden forts across the land to trap the slave army with its back against the sea.
Drenis put his arm round my shoulder.
‘So the Romans thought they had the war all done and dusted and were planning their victory parade when Pacorus and his horsemen smashes through their lines and allowed us to escape. We gave one lot a beating today and tomorrow the ones that turned up late for the show will get the same treatment. I was telling them that there’s nothing to worry about.’
‘Perhaps we might negotiate our way out of here, Drenis.’
He laughed aloud. ‘You’ve been a king too long. Besides, someone told me that Mithridates is present.’
‘He is.’
Drenis pulled his gladius from its scabbard. ‘Well he can negotiate all he wants to; he’s not going anywhere. He has to pay for what he did to Godarz.’
They all cheered at this. I clasped Drenis’ forearm and left him to his tall stories. I suddenly felt more confident that we would all live to see Dura again.
Back at the command tent Domitus and Orodes had dismissed the clerks and were seated at the table in the main compartment. They too appeared to be in good spirits.
‘What is the damage?’ I asked.
‘A hundred dead legionaries and another hundred wounded,’ replied Domitus.
‘Forty cataphracts were killed, another thirty-five wounded, two score horse archers also,’ added Orodes.
They were remarkably light casualties considering the size of the opposition, and had we faced but one army we would have been able to march on Ctesiphon in the morning. As it was we were penned in like a herd of pigs.
I unbuckled my sword belt and laid it on the table.
‘Are you hungry?’ asked Orodes.
‘No,’ I replied, staring at the polished surface.
‘You’d better get some food inside you, it’s going to be a long day tomorrow.’
Outside the enemy’s kettledrums started drumming, a low thumping noise that had no interruption.
‘Looks like it is going to be a long night as well,’ added Domitus.
‘Guard,’ I shouted. One of the two sentries standing outside the entrance pulled back the flap and entered, standing to attention once inside.
‘Go and find Surena, Marcus the Roman engineer and Alcaeus.’
He saluted and disappeared. Outside the racket made by the kettledrums got louder. The enemy was obviously trying to unnerve us and deny us any sleep, not that I would have been able to sleep much anyway. Thoughts, some good, most bad, raced through my mind, foremost among them the realisation that Narses and Mithridates had duped me. Orodes sensed my unease.
‘It is not your fault, Pacorus.’
I looked at him. ‘Isn’t it? Dobbai warned me not to underestimate them and that is exactly what I have done.’
Domitus began his usual habit of toying with his dagger. ‘You had to do something. After the assassination attempt on your life you could not have carried on as if nothing had happened, otherwise you would have appeared weak.’
‘Better weak than dead,’ I mumbled.
Orodes looked most concerned but Domitus merely stretched back in his chair. ‘You know what he’s like, Orodes. Pacorus always gets morose on the eve of battle. I take it as a good omen.’