‘Ever since the funeral they have been in each other’s company,’ reported Mardonius. ‘The Princess Axsen takes comfort in her female friends.’
‘The sisterhood is a powerful force,’ I remarked.
‘Well,’ said my father, taking a wafer from a silver plate held by a slave and dipping it in a jar of honey held by another, ‘she will be a queen tomorrow. It is our job to ensure that her reign is long and prosperous. I owe that to her father, at least.’
Mardonius placed his hands together under his chin. ‘Babylon has to seek an accommodation with Mithridates, majesty. We are not strong enough to withstand another invasion.’
‘With the losses they have suffered,’ I said. ‘Mithridates and Narses will think twice before crossing the Tigris once more in a hurry.’
My father finished his honey-daubed wafer. ‘Perhaps, but they can call on the resources of all the lands between the Tigris and Indus. I agree with Mardonius.’ He looked at Nergal.
‘And your borders may also be at risk.’
‘There have been no reports of any incursions into my kingdom, lord king,’ replied Nergal.
‘Not yet, perhaps, but I would suggest strengthening your border defences.’
‘Your friendship with Pacorus makes you an enemy of my stepbrother, Nergal,’ said Orodes grimly. ‘He neither forgets nor forgives.’
‘Just be careful of any large-breasted women who suddenly appear at your court,’ I said to Nergal. ‘Mithridates prefers to send women to do his work instead of soldiers.’
‘I will deploy additional troops on my southern border to assist Babylon should Axsen require it,’ said my father, changing the subject.
Mardonius bowed his head. ‘That would be most welcome majesty.’
‘Dura will always stand by Babylon,’ I added.
‘That is what Lord Mardonius is afraid of,’ joked Gafarn.
‘This is no time for levity, Gafarn,’ my father rebuked him. ‘Nevertheless, my son has touched upon the one thing that may deter Mithridates and Narses and that is our unity. If Mesene, Babylon, Hatra and Dura are as one then our combined strength will be a deterrent to aggression.’
I stood up. ‘I pledge Dura’s allegiance.’
Nergal also stood. ‘As do I.’
‘I would if I had a kingdom to pledge,’ offered Gafarn, earning him a frown from my father.
‘For what it is worth,’ said Orodes, ‘I too offer my sword to Babylon.’
‘It is worth a thousand warriors, lord prince,’ answered Mardonius diplomatically.
My father clapped his hands. ‘Excellent. This has been a good meeting.’
Afterwards, as we were dispersing, my father cornered me.
‘Remember, Pacorus, we hold the line of the Tigris. There must be no further aggression against Mithridates.’
I held up my hands. ‘Of course, father. But Dura will pay no annual tribute to the tyrant that sits in Ctesiphon.’
‘That is between him and you. I doubt he would accept it anyway. Another thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘No more bringing Agraci into the empire.’
I smiled. ‘Haytham is a true friend to Dura, father.’
My father looked very serious. ‘That may be, but the presence of ten thousand Agraci warriors east of the Euphrates will have alarmed every court in the empire. I can see Assur’s face now.’
Assur was the high priest of the Great Temple at Hatra and believed the Agraci to be black-robed devils that had to be kept at bay, annihilated ideally.
‘Haytham is also a friend to Mesene,’ I said in low voice, ‘and will aid Nergal if his kingdom is attacked. As will I.’
He said nothing more but I knew that he was unhappy. He was pleased that Dura prospered and that I had made peace with the Agraci, but like most Parthians he could not see beyond his prejudice against Haytham’s people. But I, who had once been a slave and had mixed with and fought beside a host of different races in Italy, had no time for such blind bias. Any man who offered me his hand was my friend, regardless of what god he worshipped or what race he belonged to.
Gafarn walked with me back to my quarters after the meeting.
‘The Armenian raids against our northern borders are increasing,’ he said. ‘Father thinks there will be war against them soon, that is why he does not want any conflict in the south.’
‘I did not realise the situation had become so bad.’
He frowned. ‘It is the Romans, Pacorus, they are the ones behind it all. They covet nothing less than the whole of Parthia. Ever since Armenia became a client state of Rome there has been nothing but trouble in the north.’
‘But Vata is containing it?’
He smiled. ‘Vata is like a lion, but is a lone lion. Soon, I fear, our father will be marching against Armenia and then there will be war with Rome.’
These were ill tidings indeed. But if Hatra went to war then Dura would be marching alongside her. I put my arm round Gafarn’s shoulders.
‘Enough of war, tell me how your son is getting along. How old is he now?’
If a pall of sadness and misery had hung over Babylon on the day of Vardan’s funeral, the coronation of his daughter transformed the city into a festival of gaiety, music and laughter. Every Babylonian lord and his family were in the city to see their princess made a queen. Their ladies dressed in brightly coloured robes, wearing enough gold and silver on their bodies to cover the entire surface of the great ziggurat that towered over the rest of city. Purple flags and ribbons hung from all the gates into the city and every building was decorated with flowers to produce a crescendo of colours. The royal guard stood on the walls of the palace and lined the route to the Temple of Marduk, while other Babylonian spearmen lined the Processional Way. Each man was armed with a long spear and knife and was dressed in purple leggings and a purple tunic that covered his arms and extended down to his knees. A turban headdress and a large wicker shield faced with leather and painted purple completed their appearance.
The city gates had been opened before dawn and by first light the streets were already thronged with a multitude of well wishers and sightseers. Jugglers, clowns, musicians and fortune-tellers plied their trade among the masses. Pickpockets too, no doubt, for the lure of rich pickings was worth the risk of losing a hand if caught.
Axsen had asked that the soldiers of her friends and allies take part in her coronation parade, and so for days smiths, farriers and squires had been labouring to get our horsemen ready for the great day. Squires worked long hours repairing and polishing leg and arm armour and smiths riveted iron plates back on to scale armour. Tunics, leggings and cloaks had been ferried to the Euphrates where they had been washed and dried by the women of the local villages. Remus and Epona had been attended to by the grooms of the royal stables and looked a handsome pair on the day of the coronation.
I wore my Roman armour cuirass and helmet, which sported a fresh comb of white goose feathers, white shirt, brown leggings and red leather boots. Gallia dressed in white silk leggings and a long-sleeved blue tunic edged with silver. Axsen had given her a gold diadem for her head inlaid with red gemstones called rubies, which had reportedly come from a distant land to the east.
Praxima was similarly attired in a rich golden headdress, her husband wearing a red shirt and leather cuirass on which had been attached overlapping bronze scales. Orodes outdid us all with his long-sleeved purple silk shirt, his cuirass of shining silver scales, white leggings and boots edged with silver. My father and Gafarn wore short-sleeved scale armour tunics, the metal also being silver.
We paraded on our horses in front of the place as Axsen descended the steps dressed in a simple white gown that covered her body and legs, her hair loose but immaculately groomed, her cheeks coloured with rouge and her eyelids darkened. On her fingers she wore gold rings and gold hung from her ears.