Aschek and Farhad were old friends of my father and tended to go along with what Hatra desired, and at the present moment in time my father desired their presence at Nisibus to present a united front against the Armenians, another piece on the board of the great game of strategy that I was also a part of. And to the east, in Syria and Judea, were the Romans; while between them and Dura were Haytham’s Agraci. The game was finely poised at a temporary stalemate, but soon enough the pieces would be moving again.
‘They make a nice couple, do they not?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Are you listening, Pacorus?’
I smiled at Gallia. Of course I had not been. ‘Of course, my love.’
She leaned towards me and nodded at the top table where a lean poet with a wispy beard was reciting some rather long and frankly pompous verses to the newlyweds. They did not care because they were in love. He could have been reading the list of items for the feast, which would probably have been more interesting.
‘Of course they make a nice couple, they have just got married,’ I replied.
‘Not Aaron and Rachel. Domitus and Miriam.’
I sighed loudly. ‘Not you as well. Has Orodes put you up to this?’
She looked at me in confusion. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I had him and Surena bending my ear about Domitus and Miriam and now you are harping on about them.’
‘First of all, I don’t harp on as you so quaintly put it. Harping insinuates idle and irritating gossip and I indulge in neither. On the contrary I make informed judgements on what I have observed.’
I drank some more wine. ‘Then I will tell you what I told them. Domitus, who by the way must be over fifty years old, is already married to the army. He’s set in his ways and that’s just the way I like it. He’s happy, I’m happy and that is that.’
‘I don’t think Domitus is happy at all,’ she replied. ‘He works so hard because it fills the loneliness in his life.’
‘This is Domitus we are talking about, the fiercest warrior on both sides of the Euphrates.’
‘He deserves to be happy,’ she persisted.
‘He is happy. He would tell me if he were not.
‘You know so little about the heart, Pacorus. Do you really think he would tell you, his lord and friend, that he craves love like the most humble and simplest man in the kingdom? And he is not the only one.’
This was ridiculous. ‘Don’t tell me, all my centurions are lonely.’
She sat back in her chair and raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Do not try to be clever; it does not suit you. Fortunately I have affairs in hand so you can concentrate on frightening the Armenians.’
She ran a finger down my scarred cheek. ‘That shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Is the marsh boy going with you?’
‘Surena? Of course. He is a fine commander, would you not agree, Orodes?’
Orodes cupped his ear to hear above the din of the wedding feast. ‘Agree with what?’
‘That Surena is an excellent commander.’
He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Most excellent, yes.’
‘Perhaps you should give him his own army, then,’ suggested Gallia.
I looked at her. ‘What did you say?’
‘Give the marsh boy his own army.’
My blood ran cold and I was taken back to the voice that had spoken to me in the Temple of Ishtar.
The one born in the land of water must be given his own army.
I said no more on the matter of Surena but as I sat there surrounded by laughter and merriment I knew that the first part of what the voice had told me, and I still refused to believe that it was Claudia, had come to fruition. I had followed Aaron to Judea and now the gold from the temple of Jerusalem was helping me to finance the army. But there was no other army for Surena to command, no kingdom of his own from which he could draw recruits. The idea was preposterous. Then again no more preposterous than a simple boy from the great marsh lands of what had been southern Mesene rising to become the commander of Dura’s horse archers.
Rather than drive myself to distraction with such thoughts I pushed them to the back of my mind, drank more wine, slipped my arm round my wife’s waist and enjoyed the rest of the evening. Two days later, nearly a year to the day since I had set out on the fateful campaign against Mithridates that had nearly resulted in my death, I once again led the army across the pontoon bridges that spanned the Euphrates. This time it headed north along the eastern bank of the river, a great column of foot soldiers, camels, wagons and horsemen that stretched over twenty miles. It was time to show our strength to the Armenians.
Chapter 11
It was spring once more and the days were bright but not hot, a slight northerly wind being enough to make the march comfortable and dispel the clouds of dust that always hung over our great column of iron-shod hooves and hobnailed leather sandals. Though we were in friendly territory the army assumed the usual marching order it adopted for every campaign. Far ahead of the army, in front and on the flanks, rode Byrd, Malik and their scouts — fifty hand-picked men who were answerable to those two alone and who were the eyes and ears of the army, their task to inform me of the enemy army’s whereabouts and its movements. Sometimes we didn’t see them for days but it comforted us all to know that they were riding far and wide to provide early warning of any threats. Most of them were Agraci like Malik though there were a few Parthians among their ranks. They dressed like desert nomads and like their horses were scrawny and unprepossessing individuals, but they could ride all day and all night and move like ghosts over any terrain and I thanked Shamash that they served me.
The advance guard of the army comprised five hundred widely dispersed horse archers who kept a lookout for any possible ambush sites on route, such as fords across rivers, woodland, canyons and the like. If they suffered any attacks they were to immediately break contact and fall back to the army where a plan could be formulated.
Next came the pioneers, a small contingent of surveyors and workmen who determined where the army would camp for the night and once at the site would mark out where the tents would be pitched, the stables sited and the ditches dug. These men were under the command of Marcus, as was the unit of engineers that came next in the order of march, whose task was to repair the roads and bridges along which the army was travelling.
The wagons and mules carrying the army’s supplies and food came next, plus the oxen pulling Marcus’ siege engines (though for this campaign they had been left behind at Dura) and the thousand camels and their civilian drivers of the ammunition train carrying spare arrows. This was the slowest part of the army and also the most vulnerable — any successful assault on the baggage train would destroy the food supplies and seriously damage the army’s ability to continue the campaign. It was thus protected by two dragons of horse archers — two thousand riders.
Next came the senior officers of the army, which should have included Domitus and Kronos, but they always insisted on walking at the head of their legions and so the only company I had was Orodes and Gallia when she accompanied the army. Surena should have been attending me but he always found an excuse to ride with the advance guard. On this march I asked Silaces to ride with me as the banner of Elymais was carried behind us, alongside those of Susiana and Dura, though all three flags were wrapped round their poles and covered with waxed sleeves. As we were marching through Hatran territory I thought it impolite to fly the flags of other kingdoms in my father’s lands.
Behind us rode the cataphracts, their heavy scale armour and lances carried on the camels led behind them by their squires. On the march the cataphracts acted as horse archers, though they insisted that they were actually the king’s bodyguard because they rode immediately behind me. Then came the legions, the men in their centuries and cohorts marching six abreast at a steady pace that allowed them to cover twenty miles a day.