My own and Remus’ scale armour was smeared with blood but it was not my own, and a closer inspection of my cataphracts revealed that they too were daubed with enemy gore. It had been one of the most one-sided victories that I had taken part in. All that remained were the disorganised and no doubt dispirited enemy spearmen who were now grouped to our front. Their officers were riding to and fro, cajoling and threatening their men to move forward. But then arrows began falling among their ranks and many saddles were suddenly emptied. This was the final straw for the demoralised spearmen who suddenly broke and fled east into the desert in the wake of the surviving horse archers.
My men whooped and cheered as the enemy ran, pursued by companies of Nergal’s horse archers. Seeing the charge of the enemy horse stopped and then their whole wing largely destroyed, he had halted the retreat of his horse archers and brought them back onto the battlefield. He and Praxima now rode over to where we stood among the enemy dead and dying. I clasped his forearm when he arrived at our position.
‘My thanks, Pacorus,’ he said, grinning.
‘My thanks to you, my friend,’ I said.
‘You have won a great victory, lord,’ said Praxima, which elicited cheers from those men within earshot.
Nergal looked east to where his men pursued the enemy.
‘Not many will get back across the Tigris,’ he said with satisfaction.
‘Our men are under orders to take no prisoners,’ said Praxima sternly. I smiled at her. Even after all these years she still had the power to unnerve me.
‘That’s one part of Narses’ army dealt with,’ I said. ‘Let’s hope my father and Vardan have broken through to the Ishtar Gate.’
I saw Praxima pull an arrow from her quiver and nock it in her bowstring. Around fifty paces from us a wounded enemy soldier had staggered to his feet and was limping away east, into the desert. His right leg was obviously injured as he could barely put any weight on it. Just a few feet away, men on their horses watched him making his escape. They could have ridden him down with ease but saw no honour in killing such a pathetic figure. Sweating profusely from their exertions in battle, most had pushed their helmets back up on their heads. I saw their expressions change from unconcern to horror as Praxima’s arrow hit the poor wretch in the right leg, causing him to yelp in pain and collapse on the ground. He groaned in agony for a few seconds then, with great effort, managed to get back on his feet, almost hopping as his right leg hung uselessly. There was another twang and a second arrow hit him square in the back, pitching him forward face down on the ground. He made no further movement as Praxima calmly replaced her bow in its case.
She spat on the ground. ‘No pity for the soldiers of Narses.’
Suddenly the ground shook and I heard a deep rumble — the sound of thousands of horses charging. I gave the order to wheel left and face the direction of the sound, hoping that it was not more enemy horsemen mounting another attack against us. Within minutes we had reformed our line facing west and moved forward. Nergal, meanwhile, had brought his horse archers forward and deployed them either side of my cataphracts to provide missile support should we need it. We did not, for ahead I saw a most imposing sight — the lords were leading their men against the now isolated enemy foot soldiers.
A rider, one of Dura’s horse archers, arrived at my position with a message from Gallia that she had committed the lords and their horsemen against Narses’ foot soldiers. She had received news that the Babylonians and Hatrans had routed the enemy horsemen in front of them and had pushed back the remnants to the Ishtar Gate. The battle was as good as won and all that remained was the destruction of the enemy’s foot. Twenty thousand horse archers were now enveloping those troops as the lords and their horse archers emptied their quivers against them. The air was thick with arrows as Narses’ men were assailed from all directions.
I rode over to where Gallia had halted with her Amazons observing the scene unfolding before her, a great cloud of dust now obscuring the distance as Dura’s lords directed their assaults against the enemy. I reached over and kissed her on the cheek, my vest and shirt drenched with sweat. In comparison she looked as though she had just washed and dressed. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on her or Epona and her bow was still in its case. Behind her the Amazons appeared just as fresh and unruffled.
She smiled warmly at Nergal and Praxima as they joined us. She laid a hand on Orodes’ arm.
‘It warms me to see you all unharmed, especially you, lord prince.’
He took off his helmet and bowed his head solemnly. ‘Your servant, lady.’ Ever the gallant knight.
I also took off my own helmet, my sweat-soaked hair matted to my skull.
‘Spandarat insisted on getting involved, then,’ I said to Gallia, observing horse archers riding towards the enemy mass, shooting their bows and then wheeling sharply away.
‘I ordered him and the rest of the lords to attack,’ she replied. ‘Word reached me from your father that the enemy horsemen in front of him had been dispersed, and with you and Nergal scattering those on the other wing, it seemed an opportune moment to unleash the lords.’
‘You have impeccable timing, lady,’ remarked Orodes, wiping his brow with a cloth.
‘Now we can watch them being slaughtered,’ said Praxima with relish.
Dura’s horse archers were now reforming in their companies behind the Amazons, having retreated to the camel train stationed in the rear to obtain fresh quivers of arrows. To our left the tired cataphracts and their blown horses were forming into line, and beyond them the Mesenians. We had returned to our original positions.
‘Do you wish me to commit my men?’ asked Nergal.
I smiled at him. ‘Your troops are yours to dispose of as you see fit, lord king.’
Gallia swung round in her saddle. ‘Nergal is offering you assistance, Pacorus, don’t get all high and mighty with your royal talk.’
‘Why don’t we take the Amazons forward, Gallia,’ suggested Praxima. ‘Lop off some heads and balls just like in the old days.’
Nergal laughed and Orodes looked most uncomfortable.
‘Wait,’ I said. I turned and beckoned forward one of the commanders of my horse archers.
‘Send some of your men forward and inform the lords that I command that they desist their attacks.’
He saluted and rode back to his waiting officers.
‘What nonsense is this?’ asked Gallia.
‘No nonsense, my sweet,’ I replied. ‘Rather common sense.’
Praxima looked perplexed as a detachment of officers rode forward and searched out Spandarat and the other lords in the dust storm that was engulfing the horsemen and foot soldiers as thousands of hooves kicked up the dry earth. I sent other riders to the Ishtar Gate to see if Vardan or my father wanted assistance, and while I waited for a reply the shrieks, cries, shouts and screams of horses and men in front of us gradually died down as the lords disengaged from the battle.
A most unhappy Spandarat brought his horse to a halt in front of me.
‘If you weren’t my king, if my sons didn’t serve in your army and if I didn’t love your wife I would tan your arse.’
‘A most eloquent speech, Spandarat. Can I assume that you disagree with my orders,’ I said calmly.
He pointed excitedly at the enemy foot still standing in their ranks.