Carrhae (44 page)

‘Of course,’ I replied.

She threw her arms round me, kissed me on the cheek, ordered me to keep safe and then hurried away with a spring in her step. What it is to be young and in love.

The Agraci did not fight as my army fights. Like my own nobles each of Haytham’s lords brought his own followers and they fought and died for him, fighting alongside him in battle and sharing in his victories and defeats. Agraci tactics, such as they were, consisted of getting to grips with the enemy as quickly as possible and slaughtering them in a close-quarter mêlée. Against well-disciplined, trained and equipped soldiers it was a recipe for disaster. Courage and bloodlust alone were not enough to overcome a professional army, that is why I wanted to be here, not for glory or a chance to kill Egyptians, though I was not averse to sending any race to the afterlife if they made an enemy of me, but to save Haytham. I would never have told him that, of course, but with my horse archers he and his men stood a better chance of defeating the enemy.

Three days out from Palmyra, marching along the road to Emesa, our scouts came across the enemy. It was not hard to find them: the vast dust cloud kicked up by their soldiers matched that of our own and could be seen miles away. The flat, hard-packed dirt across which we rode was littered with small stones and sparse grass and scrub vegetation. Occasionally a patch of greenery would appear as if by magic where water seeped to the surface to create a small oasis, but mostly the terrain was unending arid earth, made bleaker by a sun scorching our backs from a cloudless sky.

At midday, as the sun’s rays were warming the ground to turn the horizon into a shimmering haze, Haytham ordered a halt and called his lords together. As he did so waterskins were brought forward from the hundreds of camels that had accompanied us from Palmyra, on which were also stored food, tents and fodder.

‘The enemy are ten miles distant,’ said Haytham, ‘they will be here in three hours.’

‘How many?’ asked one his lords.

‘Nearly forty thousand foot, six or seven thousand horse.’

Forty-five thousand soldiers was below our own strength of thirty thousand Agraci plus my own horsemen from Dura – a good omen.

‘Are there are any Romans present?’ I asked.

‘My scouts reported seeing no Romans,’ answered Haytham.

The day was getting better and better.

‘I would like to take a closer look at our opponents, lord,’ I said to Haytham, pointing at Vagises and Peroz to accompany me.

I jabbed at finger at Spartacus and Scarab. ‘You two stay here.’

We cantered forward over the dusty ground with Vagharsh and a dozen horse archers behind us. The mood of the army was relaxed and confident, sentiments I shared as there were no Romans present.

‘How do these Egyptians fight, majesty?’ asked Peroz.

‘Like Greeks,’ I answered.

He was confused. ‘Greeks?’

‘Alexander of Macedon conquered Egypt around two hundred and eighty years ago, and ever since then the kingdom’s rulers, named Ptolemy after the first king, have been Greeks and the descendents of Greeks. Many men from Greece settled in Egypt in the intervening years and have brought their ways with them, including the Greek way of war.

‘Like the Romans they believe in the power of their foot soldiers. Their horsemen are equipped only to scout, raid and support the foot.’

Within fifteen minutes we had halted and were observing the mighty host advancing across the desert at a steady pace, creating a huge dust cloud that must have been choking the men in the rear of the formation. I pointed at an unbroken black mass in the centre of the Egyptian battle line.

‘That is their phalanx, made up of battalions of two hundred and fifty-six men, called
syntagma
, arrayed in ranks of sixteen men sixteen deep. They carry long spears called
sarissas
that are around fifteen feet in length. The first five ranks advance with their spears levelled to form an impenetrable hedge in front of the first rank, while the raised spears of the rear ranks help defeat enemy missiles. And there are sixty-four battalions of them – over sixteen thousand men.

‘Each phalangist wears a helmet, linen armour called
linothorax
, a shield slung over the shoulder covering his left side so he can hold his spear with both hands.’

I could see other foot soldiers either side of the phalanx and horsemen on the extreme ends of each wing. I estimated the frontage of the Egyptian army to be a mile and a half.

Half an hour later I was in my saddle at the head of Vagises’ men on the right wing of the army. It had been decided that Peroz and his men would take up position on the left wing. In such a way Haytham’s warriors would have missile support once the battle began. The enemy also had archers, which were deployed in two great blocks either side of the phalanx.

We were now around a mile from the enemy, walking forward at a slow pace with arrows nocked in our bowstrings. Vagharsh had removed my banner from its sleeve but it hung limply on the flagpole, as there was no wind. Already my silk vest was soaked in sweat and perspiration covered my face and neck. Each dragon of horse archers was arrayed in ten companies in a line, each company arranged in ten ranks of ten men. As each man had only three quivers of arrows I had given orders not to waste any missiles. With this in mind I had placed Spandarat and his lords behind Vagises – twenty thousand men. Haytham was most surprised but I knew that as soon as my lords were committed they were effectively beyond control so their one and only charge would have to be well timed. Needless to say Spandarat and his fellow nobles were most unhappy.

The eerie quiet that had descended over the battlefield was ended when both wings of the enemy army suddenly galloped forward. These were light horsemen wearing tunics and leggings only and riding wiry horses bred for speed. They carried wicker shields and each rider was armed with up to half a dozen javelins and they raced across the ground towards us, ready to launch their short spears.

Answering the command of horns, the front rank in each company waited until the widely spaced Egyptian horsemen were within four hundred paces before drawing back their bowstrings and loosing an arrow volley at them. The missiles arched into the air and fell among the enemy horsemen, hitting several horses and their riders. The Egyptians immediately halted and retreated back to their own lines as fast as they could. Trained for hit-and-run tactics, they had failed in their objective of goading us into action. But then with horror I looked to my left and saw masses of Agraci warriors galloping after them.

Haytham, seeing the enemy horsemen easily beaten off, had unleashed a general assault against the Egyptians.

‘What do we do?’ asked Vagises.

‘Nothing,’ I replied.

‘You are not going to support our allies, uncle?’ queried Spartacus.

‘Not until they return after having many of their saddles emptied,’ I replied.

And so it was. As soon as the Agraci got close to the enemy centre they were peppered with lead shots from slingers that hugged the flanks of the phalanx and the foot archers either side of them. In the space of a few minutes Haytham lost dozens of men and horses for nothing, the Agraci falling back as rapidly as they had advanced to get out of range of enemy missiles.

Wild cheering erupted from the Egyptian ranks and the phalanx began to march forward once more. I raised my bow to signal the advance and behind me three thousand horse archers urged their horses forward.

They cantered past me as Spartacus moved his horse ahead.

‘Not you,’ I told him. ‘You will stay here until I tell you otherwise.’

He slammed his bow back into its case in frustration as Vagharsh’s face wore a broad grin.

The horse archers rode to the right before arching inwards to assault the light horsemen on the Egyptian left flank. As they broke into a trot large amounts of dust were kicked into the air and hung there like a yellowish cloud. I glanced to my left and could still see the huge phalanx advancing but beyond that was a wall of dust. The thousands of horses’ hooves were beginning to reduce visibility drastically.

In front of us I could hear the whoosh and hiss of thousands of arrows being loosed as Vagises’ companies neared the Egyptian army and wheeled inwards to strike the flank of the enemy line, files of ten horse archers riding at the enemy, shooting their bows and then wheeling right to take them back to the rear of the file. In this way a continuous, withering storm of arrows would be directed at the opposition.

Using this tactic each horseman usually got off at least three arrows. As he reached the front of the file he released his bowstring, nocked another arrow and shot it as he wheeled his horse right and loosed a third arrow over the back of his horse as he returned to the rear of the file. In this way each of Vagises’ dragons shot around six hundred arrows a minute at the enemy.

After ten minutes a dust-covered Vagises rode back to where I watched.

‘The Egyptian horsemen have fled, Pacorus. We are shooting down black men carrying hide shields and spears. Hundreds are dead.’

‘Nubians,’ remarked Scarab with sadness.

‘What of the enemy’s archers and slingers?’ I asked.

‘Most have been cut down with the Nubians, their bows do not have the range of ours,’ he answered. ‘Though their slingers have the measure of them.’

‘Spandarat,’ I called. ‘Time for your and your lords to assault what is left of the enemy’s left flank.’

He whooped with joy and rode back to his fellow nobles.

‘Pull back your men, Vagises,’ I ordered. ‘Let them save their arrows and let us hope that Peroz has enjoyed similar success against their other wing.’

I coughed as dust entered my mouth.

‘This ground is very sandy,’ remarked Vagises, who dug his knees into his horse’s sides and sped off followed by a score of men.

A few minutes later there was a great rumbling sound behind us and then the earth began to tremble as Spandarat and my other lords led their horse archers forward. It was not a disciplined approach to the target followed by an ordered attack to maintain a steady rate of missile expenditure; rather, a wild charge of men possessed of a feral rage and desirous to kill as many of the enemy as possible.

Too late, and to my horror, I realised that I had made a grave error in throwing Spandarat against the Egyptians for soon the visibility was further drastically reduced by the thick dust cloud created by twenty thousand galloping horses. We started coughing as the fine particles got in our eyes and entered our throats. I could hear shouts and screams to the front and the cries of wounded and dying horses but I was effectively a useless bystander to the battle, unable to dictate its course.

I heard horns in the distance and then trumpet blasts coming from ahead and to the left. The phalanx! It must have halted. I smiled to myself. Perhaps Peroz or Haytham had shattered the enemy. Perhaps they themselves had been shattered! I could see no more than a hundred paces in any direction so thick was the dust enveloping the battlefield. For all I knew the Egyptians could have been behind me.

The earth shook once more and somewhere in front of me a sizeable number of horsemen were galloping from the right to left. I peered into the yellow haze but saw nothing and then they were gone. Most strange.

‘I saw breastplates and helmets, uncle,’ said Spartacus, whose eyes were obviously keener than mine.

‘Are you certain?’

He nodded.

I turned to the commander of the company of horse archers that was with us.

‘Follow me,’ then tugged on Remus’ reins to turn him left. One thing was certain, neither Haytham nor I had horsemen wearing armour, which meant they could only be enemy riders.

We trotted forward keeping close order with arrows nocked in our bowstrings. The sounds of battle were initially on our right as we moved towards the centre of our battle line but then I heard shouts and cries and the sounds of blades striking each other ahead.

‘Ready!’ I shouted as we broke into a fast canter and rode straight into a huge mêlée.

Agraci warriors were fighting a multitude of other horsemen wearing bronze helmets and breastplates and greaves around their shins, armed with the
xyston
– a long spear – and the
machaira
, a vicious short sword with a curved cutting edge. Four of my men were speared immediately as we rode among the turmoil.

‘All-round defence,’ I shouted.

I raised my bow and shot an Egyptian in the chest as he spurred towards me with his spear levelled. The company closed around me and began loosing arrows in all directions, scything down enemy horsemen like a farmer cuts crops. I was not worried about my men hitting Agraci, only that they would run out of arrows.

Then, directly ahead, I saw Haytham and Malik fighting among a dwindling band of their men, black shapes lying on the ground all around where Agraci had been killed by the enemy.

‘Forward!’ I shouted. We had to get to Haytham’s side or he would be cut down. There seemed to be an endless supply of enemy horsemen. Where were the rest of the Agraci?

Suddenly Spartacus broke ranks and galloped forward, shooting an Egyptian who was closing in on Haytham from the right.

‘Come back you idiot,’ I called to no effect.

‘Maintain formation,’ I shouted, just as Scarab also bolted forward on his horse to join my other squire.

They both made it to Haytham’s side just as half a dozen Egyptians with spears levelled closed in on the Agraci king. Spartacus shot two of them in quick succession and then killed the horse from under a third who was about to ram his spear into Haytham’s unguarded right side. Spartacus and Scarab rode to the king’s side and loosed arrow after arrow at the enemy, killing two more before the sixth beat a hasty retreat.

If anything the dust was getting thicker as I drew level with Haytham and the soldiers of my company formed a cordon around what was left of his bodyguard. He let his blood-covered blade fall to his side.

‘You are a most welcome sight,’ he said.

Malik on his other side raised his sword to me.