‘Armenia is the slave of Rome, even I know that.’ She took a silver cup filled with wine and sipped at it as my father regarded her with curiosity and Vistaspa glowered at her.
‘Do you suggest I declare war on Rome, then?’ asked my father, trying to out-fox her.
‘War is coming with Rome whatever you do,’ she replied. ‘The question is, when it comes will the empire be united or divided?’
‘I can see where my son gets his advice from,’ said my father dryly, ‘advice that nearly led to his death last year at the Tigris.’
‘I told him not to underestimate Mithridates and Narses, he chose to ignore that advice,’ she snapped back.
I held up my hands. ‘We are straying from the matter at hand. When do you meet the Armenians?’
‘I have sent a message demanding a meeting with Tigranes at his southern border in a month’s time,’ said my father.
‘The army of Dura will be there, father, I guarantee you that; though I am surprised that Aschek and Farhad have agreed to support you.’
‘Raiders from Gordyene have also been attacking Media and Atropaiene,’ said Vistaspa.
‘Gordyene is like an abscess,’ complained my father.
‘And where does the king of kings stand in this matter?’ I asked. ‘His empire is assaulted and all he can do is demand more money to raise an army to march against Dura.’
My father shook his head. ‘Mithridates will not support me after I supported you last year.’
‘And when Pacorus is away in the north, father,’ said Gallia, ‘what is to prevent Mithridates and Narses marching against Dura?’
‘A wise question, child,’ said Dobbai, looking at my father.
‘Mithridates is a coward,’ I said. ‘He will not march through Babylonian and Hatran territory to attack Dura and thereby risk outright war with those two kingdoms having been worsted by them last year. Had he desired that he would have marched against me a long time ago. No, he will bide his time and let others do his work.’
‘Mithridates will not attack you, Pacorus,’ said my father. ‘After all, you have Babylon and Mesene behind you, to say nothing of Haytham and his hordes.’
‘Is it not curious,’ mused Dobbai, ‘that had it not have been for Mithridates taking the daughter of Haytham hostage when he ruled this city, Pacorus might never have forged an alliance with the Agraci. The gods weave their magic in most curious ways.’
My father regarded Dobbai guardedly. ‘Well, be that as it may, I doubt that Dura will face any problems while you are away.’
He was probably right, but in the days following his departure I appointed Marcus as Rsan’s deputy and instructed him to mount his smaller ballista on the towers on the city walls that faced west. Deep wadis were immediately beyond the city’s north and south walls and at the bottom of the rock escarpment upon which the Citadel sat was the Euphrates. An attack against the city could only be mounted against its western wall. I thought it highly unlikely but it was better to be safe than sorry.
The replacement cohort would act as the garrison while the army was away. It consisted mostly of green recruits who received basic training before being allocated to either the Durans or Exiles. There was also the walking wounded who had received injuries in training or who were suffering from fever and similar ailments. Too sick to go on campaign, they were quite capable of undertaking garrison duty. Dobbai had told Gallia that there would no fighting with the Armenians and so she decided to stay in the city, which meant her Amazons could use their bows against any attackers.
Peace or war, training continued as usual. Each day was the same routine for legionaries and horsemen — wake, wash, attend to the horses if a cavalryman, eat breakfast, morning parade and roll-call, camp duties, such as cleaning the latrines, hours spent drilling and training, bedding down the horses, evening meal and bed. The time between evening meal and bed was usually filled with cleaning weapons and equipment, though the married soldiers usually also found time to visit their wives and children in the city. It was certainly an austere life but one that was rewarded with ample amounts of good food, regular pay, the best weapons and equipment that gold could buy and the knowledge that they were part of what I believed to be the best army in the world. And at the apex of the army was a figure feared and respected throughout the kingdom, a man who was the benchmark when it came to professionalism, discipline and fighting prowess. A man that was harder than the blade of the gladius he wore at his hip — Lucius Domitus.
I was in the Citadel’s courtyard discussing with Rsan the licensing of brothels in the city when Orodes and Surena rode through the gates and jumped from their horses.
‘The queen won’t approve,’ I said, ‘but the fact is that thousands of young men travelling with the caravans pass through Dura each year, and when they stop here they seek the company of prostitutes.’
‘It is as you say, majesty,’ agreed Rsan gravely.
‘So the treasury might as well benefit from their brisk trade.’
Rsan nodded approvingly. ‘I was thinking of a licence for each brothel, majesty, renewable each year.’
I saw Orodes and Surena pass the reins of their horses to waiting squires and then walk towards us.
‘Good, Rsan. I leave the matter in your capable hands.’
‘It was actually Aaron’s idea, majesty. He has proved a most useful addition to the administration here.’
He bowed and went back to the treasury as Surena and Orodes appeared in front of me.
‘I think you should ride to the legionary camp immediately, Pacorus,’ said Orodes.
‘Grave news, lord,’ added Surena.
‘What is it?’ I said, concerned.
‘It would appear that Domitus has a woman,’ said Orodes seriously.
I looked at them both, suddenly grinning like mischievous children. ‘What nonsense is this?’
‘No nonsense, lord,’ said Surena. ‘He has been spotted walking with a woman, in camp.’
‘I think you should investigate immediately,’ suggested Orodes.
The idea that Domitus would have a woman was a ridiculous notion. He was married to the army, unyielding, iron-hard, devoid of emotion. The whole army looked up to him; indeed, the whole kingdom held him in high esteem.
‘Impossible,’ I said. ‘I have known that man for thirteen years and in all that time he has shown no interest in the opposite sex.’
Orodes held up his hands. ‘Have it your own way, but I have it on good authority that he is in camp with her as we speak.’
‘You should ride to the camp and see for yourself, lord,’ urged Surena. ‘Everyone is talking about it.’
‘We will be marching north soon,’ I said, ‘and I have better things to do than indulge in idle gossip. And so do you two.’
‘Actually,’ remarked Orodes, ‘I don’t. Your cataphracts are fully prepared and Strabo has ensured that the horses, camels and men are fully provisioned.’
‘As are my horse archers, lord,’ added Surena, a self-satisfied smug look on his face.
‘But the legions may not be,’ said Orodes casually.
‘Oh? Why not?’
He feigned ignorance. ‘Well, if Domitus is distracted then who knows what might happen? His men might arrive in Nisibus without javelins, or helmets even.’
I decided to put a stop to this frivolity right away.
‘I am riding to the camp and you two are coming with me,’ I commanded.
The three of us rode from the city and into camp, leaving our horses at the stables near the workshops. Domitus was not in his headquarters tent and the sentries standing guard outside did not know of his whereabouts.
‘Bad sign that, Pacorus,’ remarked Orodes.
‘Please be quiet,’ I replied.
‘Perhaps he has been kidnapped,’ suggested Surena.
I turned to face them both. ‘Listen you two, I hope Domitus is not out on manoeuvres and you have dragged me here for some sort of joke.’