Vardan kissed Gallia and Praxima, hailing them as close friends of his daughter, Princess Axsen. His complexion became ashen at the thought of his only child in peril.
Slaves brought in silver jugs, poured wine into jewel-adorned silver cups and served them to us from gold trays. If only Vardan spent as much on his army as he did on his rich living! A blast of trumpets signalled the arrival of my father as more slaves positioned a large rectangular table with ornately carved legs in front of us. It was at least six feet wide and over double that in length. Upon the table was unrolled a beautiful tapestry that depicted the entire Parthian Empire. The base colour was a rich yellow, with the course of the Euphrates and Tigris rivers depicted in blue and cities and towns marked with black thread. It must have taken months to create such a masterpiece. But awe-inspiring as it was, the money and resources devoted to creating it would have been better spent on soldiers and weapons for Babylon’s army.
My father was shown into the throne area and he embraced Vardan. He had brought Vistaspa, who bowed stiffly to the King of Babylon. Gafarn, who accompanied my father, smiled and laid his hands on the king’s shoulders, assuring Vardan that we were all here to help him and he should not worry. My brother’s words seemed to have a calming effect on Vardan, if only for a while. My father pointedly ignored Nergal and me. I had heard from Gafarn that my father had taken a dim view of my placing Nergal, formerly an officer in Hatra’s army, on Mesene’s throne. He thought even less of Praxima, a former whore, becoming Parthian royalty. I did not care; they were my friends and I trusted them both, which is more than I could presently say of Hatra.
More slaves brought silver platters heaped with pastries, sweet meats, yoghurt, dried fruit and bread as we all gathered round the table. At its head Vardan stood with arms folded, staring glumly at the map of the empire. His eyes were fixed on his city of Babylon. My father stood halfway down the table, resting his hands on the edge, flanked by Vistaspa on his right and Gafarn on his left. I stood across the table, directly opposite my father, Orodes on my right and Nergal on my left. Praxima stood next to her husband with Gallia on her other side. Thus four kings, two queens and two princes stared at the map lying before them. Vardan looked at one of his officers.
‘General Mardonius, you will be our guide.’
A man in his late fifties with thick grey hair handed a slave his helmet and walked to the table, a long cane in his right hand. He bowed his head to Vardan and pointed the end of the cane at where Babylon was marked on the map.
Vardan sighed deeply. ‘My friends, word reached me earlier that Babylon is now encircled by the forces of Narses and Mithridates. Axsen managed to send a messenger alerting me to her peril before the city was closely invested. It appears that the enemy has also destroyed many villages on their march south from the Tigris to Babylon. As well as being encircled by the enemy the city is awash with refugees from the surrounding area.’
‘It grieves me to hear such news, my friend,’ said my father. ‘Hatra’s army is at your disposal.’
‘As is Dura’s,’ I announced.
‘And Mesene’s,’ added Nergal.
Vardan’s mouth showed a slight smile. ‘I thank you all. I shall be marching south at once along the Euphrates.’ Mardonius moved the end of the cane from our present position, approximately eighty miles north of Babylon, down to the Euphrates and then along the river to Babylon. Three days’ march, more or less.
‘Sensible,’ agreed my father.
I looked at the map and saw another possibility present itself.
Vardan looked at my father. ‘Thank you, my friend.’
I looked at the map, to where Dura was marked on the western bank of the Euphrates. From my city the great river travels south for a distance of around fifty miles before changing direction to run directly east for nearly a hundred miles. The waterway then changes course again, this time southeast for another hundred miles, before resuming its southerly course once more. Our present location was near where the river changes direction from southeast to directly south. We were within a day’s march of the Euphrates and two days away from the Tigris.
‘May I suggest another strategy, lord?’ I said at length.
My father folded his arms and stared at me disapprovingly.
Vardan was confused. ‘Another strategy?’
I held out my palm to Mardonius for his cane. He handed it to me. I used it to point to where Ctesiphon was located.
‘You mean to march down the east bank of the Euphrates?’ I asked Vardan.
‘Naturally, it is the quickest route to Babylon.’
‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘But if we strike southeast we would be able to march along the west bank of the Tigris.’
Vardan wore a furrowed brow. ‘The Tigris?’
‘Yes, lord,’ I continued. ‘The enemy retreated across the Tigris when the armies of Hatra, Babylon and Mesene came to my aid.’ I traced the end of the cane from Ctesiphon to Babylon. ‘But then recrossed the Tigris to march southwest when news reached them that you had left Babylon to be here.’
‘All this I know,’ snapped Vardan.
‘Yes, lord,’ I said, ‘but if we strike for the Tigris and then march southwest we can trap the enemy between ourselves and Babylon.’
My father slowly placed his hands on the edge of the table once more. ‘We go to relieve Babylon, not to fight a battle. I would have thought that much was obvious.’
I handed the cane back to Mardonius. ‘The enemy has struck at Babylon believing they can take the city. But Babylon has not fallen.’
I looked at Vardan. ‘It has high walls and an adequate garrison, lord?’
‘It has a garrison, or course,’ replied Vardan. ‘But it will be hard pressed if the enemy attempts an assault.’
I shook my head. ‘They have no means to breach the walls, lord, so any assault will come to grief.’
Only I among all the kings of the empire had siege engines that could breach high and strong walls.
‘The refugees within the city will soon consume the food supplies, majesty,’ said a concerned Mardonius.
‘It is as Mardonius says,’ said Vardan to me.
But I was not to be put off by incidentals. ‘If we leave at dawn and march to the Tigris we can reach Babylon in four days. More importantly we will have severed the enemy’s line of retreat. Mithridates and Narses will be forced to give battle.’
Vardan stared at the map once more, seemingly torn between wanting to reach his capital as soon as possible and the thought of dealing with Mithridates and Narses, who had invaded his kingdom.
He sighed deeply. ‘I came to your aid, Pacorus, because you are a valiant and honourable man and also the son of my friend, Varaz.’
My father bowed his head at Vardan.
‘And Mithridates has insulted me by bringing his army into my kingdom without my permission, and has insulted me further by laying siege to my capital. But your objectives are not mine. If we march to Babylon then Mithridates and Narses will withdraw, I have no doubt of that.’
‘And after that?’ I asked.
‘After that,’ continued Vardan, ‘I will request that Mithridates pays me compensation for the ruin he has visited upon my kingdom.’
I drummed my fingers on the table, causing my father to frown some more.
‘Mithridates will never agree to that, lord. It would be better if the empire was rid of him once and for all.’
Vardan and Mardonius behind him appeared horrified at my suggestion, while my father’s face was like thunder.
‘Your quarrel with Mithridates is not mine, Pacorus,’ said Vardan at length. ‘Have you forgotten the chaos and bloodshed that followed the death of Sinatruces? The empire cannot afford another civil war, not with the Armenians and the nomads of the northern steppes causing trouble on our borders. To say nothing of the Romans.’