‘Shoot at the faces of the riders,’ I shouted.
I nocked an arrow in the bowstring and searched for a target. Dura’s armoured fist wore full-face helmets but most heavy horsemen in the empire sported open-faced helmets. They gave a rider a wide field of view and were not as hot to wear for hours on end in battle. The disadvantage was that they left the face exposed. I saw a rider stabbing at legionaries with his kontus and released my bowstring. I watched the arrow hurtle through the air to strike the man’s eye socket. He yelped and clutched his face with his hands, as he was pulled from his horse by a group of legionaries and disappeared from view beneath a flurry of gladius blades. I loosed another arrow that missed a rider who was hacking right and left with a mace. Then I shot three more arrows, one of which went through a rider’s mouth. I quickly used up my arrows as the rest of my archers also emptied their quivers.
‘Arrows,’ I shouted. The others also held up their bows to signal that they too required more ammunition.
In front of us riders were still trying to cut their way into the Duran ranks, flailing their weapons with frenzy. But our line was holding and it was becoming obvious that the enemy horsemen had been stopped. Domitus stalked immediately behind the rear ranks, gladius in hand, shouting encouragement. Wounded men were hauled from the ranks and attended by members of Alcaeus’ medical corps. The seriously injured were placed on stretchers and taken to where Alcaeus had established his hospital area.
Panting legionaries, Exiles sent to us as reinforcements by Kronos, ran along the line and dumped full quivers at our feet, no doubt enemy arrows they had picked up. We began shooting again. I saw a mounted enemy officer directing his men against us, calmly issued orders within feet of our front line. He was around a hundred paces from where I stood as I drew the bowstring back so the three flight feathers were by my right ear. I did not look at the arrowhead, only the target. The sounds of battle disappeared as I concentrated. My breathing slowed as I exhaled and let the bowstring slip from my fingers. The arrow sliced through the air over legionary helmets and hit the officer’s right eye socket. His arms immediately dropped by his sides and his head slumped forward. He remained in his saddle, just another dead man on the battlefield.
Above the clatter of weapons striking helmets and shields and the roar of men cursing and crying out in agony came the shrill sound of horn blasts. Slowly the cataphracts disengaged and retreated from our front line. The legionaries began cheering and banging their swords and javelins on their shields, chanting ‘Dura, Dura’. The enemy’s heavy horsemen reformed their line and then about-faced and withdrew. We had beaten them. Domitus came rushing over and we embraced each other like small boys who have just discovered a heap of freshly baked cakes.
All around men fell to their knees and gave thanks to their gods while others, racked with pain from wounds now the frenzy of bloodlust had left them, winced and leaned on their shields or their comrades for support. Others fainted from exhaustion, for they had been standing and fighting in the sun for hours now. We had been fortunate that the enemy had assaulted only one side of the square. If we had been attacked on all four sides then perhaps they would have broken us.
‘They knew their foot and horse archers couldn’t break our line,’ said Domitus, who had taken off his helmet and was wiping his sweat-covered scalp with a rag. ‘They gambled that their heavy horse could break through and they lost.’
He glanced at the sun and squinted. ‘What I wouldn’t give to dunk my head in the Euphrates right now.’
‘That, my friend,’ I said, ‘is our Achilles’ heel.’
My fears were confirmed by Marcus who reported to me as I lay on the ground, my right forearm across my eyes to shield them from the sun. I was exhausted from the exertions of battle and from having no sleep on account of the night raid on the enemy camp.
Domitus kicked the sole of my boot.
‘You awake, Pacorus?’
‘If I wasn’t before I am now.’ My limbs ached and with difficulty I sat up.
‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ said Marcus. ‘But the water situation is most dire.’
‘How dire?’ I asked.
‘Enough in the wagons for only half a day.’
I held out an arm to Domitus who hauled me up. I picked up my helmet and bow.
‘Very well, I said. ‘Council of war in ten minutes. Assemble all the senior officers.’
As our precious water supplies were allocated in order or priority — to those who had been fighting, to the rest who had been standing in the ranks, and lastly to the wounded — Domitus, Kronos, Alcaeus, Marcus and the cohort commanders gathered in the centre of the camp. They sat down on stools arranged under a temporary awning Marcus had rigged up between two wagons, though it was now late afternoon and mercifully the sun’s heat was abating.
‘You and your men did well today,’ I told them. ‘There are very few soldiers who can hold their ground against the empire’s finest cataphracts, but they did and more.’
‘I thought Dura had the finest cataphracts in the empire,’ said Drenis, the others cheering at his words.
‘But we are still surrounded and far from home,’ I continued. ‘Marcus informs me that our water supplies will last only one more day. We cannot remain here if we are to live.’
‘We could always strike for the Tigris,’ suggested Kronos. ‘It is only two or three days’ march from here.’
‘Without water the mules and oxen will quickly expire,’ said Marcus.
‘To say nothing of the wounded,’ added a grim-faced Alcaeus.
‘We cannot do that,’ I answered. ‘Even if we reach the river we will be nearer the enemy’s homeland and will face certain destruction, even if our thirst has been quenched.’
‘What, then?’ asked Domitus.
‘We attack the enemy. Tomorrow. At dawn. We will advance on the camp of Mithridates.’
Domitus rubbed his nose and looked into the distance.
‘You disapprove?’ I said.
‘The boys are tired and thirsty. If they form into a battle line and advance there is nothing to stop the enemy from hitting us behind and on our flanks.’
‘Ordinarily,’ I replied, ‘I would agree. But these are not ordinary circumstances. We are being ground down here. We cannot shake off the enemy and we will not be able to outrun them. They have time on their side; we do not. They won’t be expecting an attack.’
‘Well,’ said Kronos, ‘at least we won’t have to stand around being pelted with arrows and charged by horsemen.’
‘Very well, then,’ I said. ‘Organise your men. We attack south at dawn.’
The meeting broke up and the officers returned to their commands. I suddenly felt a sharp spasm of pain in my left leg and stopped until it eased. I rubbed my left thigh with my palm. Alcaeus spotted my pained expression and came over to me.
‘Are you hurt?’
‘No. It’s the old wound I picked up at Dura when the city was besieged.’
That was nearly four years ago, when Chosroes had brought his army to besiege my city and I had defeated him, suffering an arrow wound to my leg in the process.
‘Alas, there is little I can do. Being on your feet all day long has inflamed it. I would advise rest and keeping the weight off it but that hardly seems appropriate.’
‘I shall have to wait until we get back home.’
The air was suddenly filled with trumpet blasts and I knew that we were once again under attack. As tired legionaries reformed into their ranks and hoisted up their shields once more the enemy assaulted us on all four sides. The pain in my leg disappeared as excitement heightened my senses and the stamina of an immortal filled my being. I rushed over to the south side of the square, thinking that the enemy might be trying to break our line there once more. The other archers formed a long line behind the ranks of the cohorts as the clatter of metal against metal filled the air.