Carrhae (50 page)

I slid my dagger back in its sheath. ‘Just make sure you do not wander into Agraci territory.’

He smiled and pointed at Scarab ducking his head in the water. ‘Perhaps Scarab can ride to Palmyra and bring it back.’

I shook my head. ‘Are you determined to get him killed as well as yourself?’

He peered up at me. ‘My parents told me that you killed Gallia’s father.’

I put on my shirt and sat next to him. ‘Not quite right. It was in fact your father, the king, who killed him, with a shot that I have never seen bettered in all the years since. That was a good day.’

Scarab walked from the stream and stood with the early morning sun warming his muscular torso.

‘What did Gallia, I mean Queen Gallia, say about it?’ asked Spartacus.

‘She has never said a word about it to me then or since, but I like to think that she approved.’

Spartacus looked surprised. ‘Of killing her father?’

‘King Ambiorix, Gallia’s father, was a cunning, ruthless bastard who sold his own daughter into slavery, something that Haytham would never do whatever you think of him. Besides, Ambiorix sided with the Romans against us and deserved his fate.’

I looked at Spartacus. ‘You should concentrate on staying alive rather than filling your head with dreams.’

‘If I take an eagle my dreams will become reality,’ he said with conviction.

‘I think,’ I said, ‘that the key word in all of this is “if”.’

‘The gods must have placed Spartacus in a position where he could save King Haytham for a reason,’ remarked Scarab, to the delight of my nephew who grinned at him.

‘Really, Scarab?’ I said. ‘And what reason would that be?’

‘I am not in the confidence of the gods, majesty,’ he replied, ‘but all things on earth happen for a reason.’

I looked at him. ‘Do you believe that you were sent to me for a purpose?’

He flashed his white teeth. ‘Yes, majesty.’

‘And what is it.’

‘I do not know, majesty.’

I stood up and buckled my sword belt. ‘Listen to me, both of you. The gods meddle in the affairs of men but do not believe that they do so for the benefit of mortals. They do so for their own amusement, of that I am certain.’

‘It is said that you are beloved of the gods, majesty,’ said Scarab, ‘that you are immune from enemy weapons and that your army is invincible.’

I thought of the many scars that covered my body as a result of wounds received at the hands of enemies. I slapped Scarab on the arm.

‘Don’t believe everything you are told, Scarab.’

Chapter 12

The hung-over warriors eventually staggered from Zand’s hut and threw themselves in the stream to restore some sense to their dulled brains. A few threw up outside the hut first to provide a breakfast for the mangy dogs that stalked the village. They really were a disgusting people, and yet they were also hardy and had resisted foreign powers for thousands of years. As his warriors splashed in the water and engaged in boorish horseplay Zand himself appeared from out of the forest carrying the body of a wild goat and a bloodied spear, Gourlay beside him. He nodded at me and shouted at his men to get out of the stream and attend to their duties as Domitus sidled up to me fully dressed in his mail shirt, helmet in the crook of his arm.

‘I have attended so many feasts that they now bore me,’ said Zand, handing the dead goat and spear to Gourlay who walked back to the hut with them.

‘Too much drinking eventually deadens the mind so I prefer to stay sober these days,’ he continued. ‘I trust you and your men slept well, King Pacorus of Dura.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ I replied. ‘You like to hunt in the early hours?’

‘It is the best time to take life,’ he said. ‘The senses of both men and beasts are befuddled at such times so a hunter can get close. Their blood can be watering the earth before the first of the sun’s rays brings light to the world.’

I wondered how many people would die as a result of the horses that I would be supplying him with, how many pre-dawn raids he would lead in the coming months? It was not my concern. My concern was the safety of the empire, though I had to admit that it irked me that I was assisting such people. But then, I too was almost certainly sending the warriors I would be hiring to their deaths.

‘Gourlay will escort you back to Susa,’ he continued. ‘When can I expect delivery of the gold and horses?’

‘When will you send the warriors?’ I asked.

‘Gourlay will lead them to Susa as soon as I have received your payment,’ he replied.

‘What is to stop you from taking the gold and horses and not fulfilling your part of the agreement?’ asked a sceptical Domitus.

Zand’s pitiless blue eyes narrowed. ‘Nothing, you will just have to trust me.’

‘I have never put much stock in trust,’ growled Domitus.

Zand studied the short, crop-haired individual in front of him dressed in armour and armed with a short sword and dagger, so different from the wild, long-haired warriors of his own tribe.

‘You are not Parthian, are you?’

‘I am a Roman,’ said Domitus.

Zand glanced at me. ‘The same people that King Pacorus of Dura wishes to send my warriors to fight against.’

‘They won’t be your warriors once he has paid for them,’ said Domitus, ‘they will be his.’

‘The gold and horses will be accompanied by soldiers to ensure that the exchange goes smoothly,’ I said.

Zand did not take his eyes off Domitus. ‘And what is to stop those soldiers from shooting down my men with your Parthian bows, King Pacorus of Dura.’

I smiled. ‘Nothing. You will just have to trust me.’

Zand burst into laughter. ‘I think we can do much business, you and I. Come, let us eat breakfast before your journey.’

We retired to his hut that still stank of human odour and smoke but which was soon filled with the more pleasant aroma of fresh bread as the female slaves prepared food for us to eat. Fresh logs had been thrown on the fire and then domed metal plates were placed on top of the flames and left to get hot. The benches had been replaced around the fire and we took our seats and watched the women toss dough balls made from flour, salt and water on the hot plates and then flick them over and over, sprinkling water over the bread to prevent it from getting too dry. The bread was served with kebabs made from the wild goat that Zand had killed earlier, honey from the tribe’s hives and eggs that had been collected that morning. It was an altogether delicious meal.

Two hours later Zand himself was escorting us back to Susa, following the same route that we had used to reach his village. This time we had an escort of a dozen of his warriors on horseback, each one armed with a spear, round wooden shield and a long knife. Compared to Dura’s horsemen they were a sorry sight but I knew they were masters at moving unseen through hills and forests and would make much trouble for the Romans in Judea.

We bid farewell to Zand in the foothills of the Zagros east of the River Dez and continued on to Susa alone. The chief said that he would send Gourlay to the city in two weeks’ time to see if the gold and horses were ready, and if not at two week intervals after that. He emphasised the importance of receiving the horses and gold before the autumn ended so he could raid the lands of his enemies to kill and steal their winter foodstuffs.

‘You pay a high price for his assistance,’ said Orodes as we relaxed in a small lounge in the private apartments of his royal palace at Susa.

‘Dura will reimburse your treasury for the gold and the horses,’ I told him.

‘You trust this man, this Zand?’ asked Axsen as she reclined on a couch opposite my own.

‘I trust his ambition and ruthlessness,’ I answered. ‘He wishes to attack the villages of his enemies and with his warriors mounted he can raid far and wide.’

‘Including Susa’s farms and villages,’ said Orodes with concern.

‘That’s just what I said,’ remarked Domitus casually.

‘It is a risk,’ I admitted, ‘but the other tribes are pressing on Zand’s borders, especially after his losses at Susa. He will be concentrating on expanding his power at the expense of the other tribes rather than attacking Susiana’s territories.’

‘These tribes need to be subdued,’ said Axsen.

‘Alas, lady,’ I replied, ‘thus far no one has succeeded, not even the great Alexander of Macedon. The Zagros Mountains are too expansive and the tribes too dispersed to make their subjugation possible. Far better to encourage them to kill each other.’

‘What is he like, this Zand?’ asked Orodes.

I thought for a moment. ‘Intelligent.’

‘For a savage,’ added Domitus.

‘We are all savages to someone, Domitus,’ I retorted, ‘but Zand is someone whom a high king might be able to deal with, if only to play off his enemies against each other.’

‘We will honour your agreement with him,’ said Orodes, ‘I will see to it that he receives his gold and horses. Having fought the Romans and the hill men, I do not think that the latter are capable of defeating the former.’

‘That is putting it mildly,’ said Domitus.

‘Then why are you purchasing hill men as mercenaries?’ asked a concerned Axsen.

I drained my cup of wine and held it out for a slave to refill it. ‘My desire is not for the hill men to defeat the Romans but to keep them and Crassus occupied in Judea. He will not invade Parthia until Judea is subdued and by the time he does we will be ready for him.’

‘And the Armenians?’ asked Orodes.

‘I still believe that if we defeat the Romans then the Armenians will be relatively easy to deal with,’ I replied.

Orodes stared at his cup. ‘Surena is still waging his private war against the Armenians, which at least distracts them. Have you had any word from him, Pacorus?’

I shook my head. ‘None. He may be dead for all I know, though I suspect that he still lives. He is a most resourceful individual.’

‘It was very sad that his wife died,’ said Axsen wistfully, ‘I liked her. It is very romantic that her death has spurred him on to battle the Armenians.’

Domitus looked askance at her and rolled his eyes.

‘You should bring him to heel,’ Domitus said to Orodes.

‘Alas, my friend,’ he replied, ‘the only way I could do so would be to march an army into Gordyene and conquer the kingdom, which I have neither the resources nor desire to do. Parthia is not Rome. The empire is made up of separate kingdoms whose rulers swear allegiance to the king of kings whom they have elected. In my grandfather’s time any disloyalty was severely punished but then Parthia was strong and was not threatened by powerful external enemies.’

‘Surena’s war serves our interests for the moment,’ I said, ‘in that it keeps the Armenians from marching south against Hatra. My main concern is that his depredations may enrage Artavasdes and goad him into launching an offensive at the same time as Crassus invades the empire.’

‘You could attack the Armenians first,’ suggested Domitus.

‘But then Crassus would surely cross the Euphrates while we were preoccupied in the north, swinging north to trap our army between him and the Armenians. I cannot risk that.’

‘The scales are finely balanced,’ said Axsen.

‘Indeed,’ I replied, ‘which is why we need to buy as much time as possible.’

‘And what of the eastern kings,’ probed Axsen, ‘will they assist you?’

‘Phriapatius is loyal,’ I replied, ‘but if the western kingdoms fall I doubt those in the east of the empire will mobilise their forces to fight a war west of the Tigris. They will prefer to wait for the Romans to come to them, thinking they will be stronger on home ground, which will be their undoing.’

‘But you have fought and defeated the Romans before, Pacorus,’ said Axsen, ‘and you have your sorceress on your side.’

I smiled at her. ‘Perhaps I should send her to fight Crassus.’

‘It will take more than sorcery to defeat the Romans,’ said Orodes glumly.

I looked at Domitus who caught my eye but remained stony faced. He had been at Dobbai’s ceremony and had witnessed the strange mist, the ghostly howling and seen the empty places where the clay hounds had been. Did he believe? Did I believe? I wanted to and was thankful when Tigranes had died and Aulus Gabinius had turned back from invading Parthia, but were these events miracles or just coincidences? I wanted to see more miracles to convince me that the gods were truly on our side, but would thinking these things anger them and stop them from assisting us further? I tortured myself with such thoughts as I rode back to Dura from Susa with my horse archers, Domitus and two squires. The latter were in high spirits, Spartacus because he was going back to Dura and so would be nearer to Rasha, Scarab because I had told him that he would be my permanent squire when Spartacus became a cataphract. Scarab would never make it into the ranks of the heavy horsemen. He could shoot a bow with a reasonable degree of accuracy but his sword skills were almost non-existent and his horsemanship left a lot to be desired. Spartacus, like most Parthian males, had been in the saddle almost before he could walk and had learned to shoot a bow and wield a sword and lance from the saddle at an early age. These skills he took for granted because they had been part of his upbringing, but years of experience and learning could not be condensed into months. Some had been surprised that Surena, being from the southern marshlands, had adapted so well to Dura’s horse archers and cataphracts, but he too had been fighting and riding from an early age, albeit horses stolen from the enemy.

So Scarab would remain my squire and servant, but as a free man.

‘There are no slaves in Dura’s palace,’ I told him as we rode along the eastern bank of the Euphrates on the way back to Dura, ‘you know this.’

‘That means you can leave Dura at any time,’ Domitus told him,’ ‘if you get tired of washing Pacorus’ shirts.’

‘The king saved me,’ said Scarab, ‘therefore I am forever in his debt and will only leave him if he dismisses me.’

He really did not understand the concept of freedom.

‘Being free means taking your own decisions, Scarab,’ I said, ‘not being told what to do. To forge your own destiny and live your life in freedom and not in chains.’