Carrhae (61 page)

Crassus leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. ‘No indeed, but you have taken a keen interest in its affairs, have you not?’

‘I take an interest in all things that happen near the borders of my kingdom,’ I said casually.

‘Such as arming the Jewish rebel Alexander Maccabeus with weapons that were produced in your armouries at Dura,’ suggested Crassus. ‘An act that is nothing short of a declaration of war against Rome. And imagine my surprise when I myself campaigned recently in Judea, only to discover that this rebel, whom my predecessor had crushed, had received reinforcements from the Parthian hinterland.’

‘Life is full of surprises,’ I replied.

Cassius was staring at me with hateful eyes, which I found not in the least intimidating while Vagises looked bored.

Crassus grew more serious. ‘The fact is, King Pacorus, that I am charged with avenging the many wrongs that have been committed against Rome by yourself and Parthia and have no choice but to wage war until these wrongs have been righted. My hands are tied in the matter.’

‘So your intention is to wage war against Parthia?’ I asked, already knowing the answer.

He nodded gravely. ‘It is.’

‘And what is the purpose of that war?’ I probed.

He seemed thrown by this query and cleared his throat. I surmised that he coveted Parthia because he wanted control of the Silk Road and all the riches that would bring him, though he would never admit that it was simple greed that motivated him. He thus sought to disguise his real motive by portraying his presence in Syria as being the guardian of Rome’s honour. If Rome had any honour!

‘I will state my reasons for waging war on the Parthian Empire when I stand in the royal palace at Ctesiphon,’ he replied grandly.

Vagises laughed and showed the palm of his left hand to Crassus, pointing at it.

‘Hair will grow here before you see Ctesiphon.’

Cassius smirked and Crassus was confused but my fears had been confirmed. Having plundered Jerusalem’s temple Crassus was in no mood to let further riches slip out of his hands, and the fact that I had mentioned that Orodes was willing to pay him ten thousand talents of gold had only increased his avarice. His mind must have been racing with thoughts of the treasury at Ctesiphon, which he no doubt believed to be stuffed with gold though the truth was very different. And Ctesiphon was only a month’s march from Syria. How tempting a target it must have appeared to him.

‘Wars are easy to start,’ I said, ‘but harder to end.’

‘Rome’s wars end when the enemy has been vanquished,’ said Cassius smugly. ‘As the Carthaginians, Armenians, Syrians, Jews and the people of Pontus have learned, to defy Rome is folly.’

Crassus was nodding in agreement and then rested his hands on the table.

‘Let us for a moment be logical. We know that Parthia is weak as a result of years of internal strife and that it is beset by external foes. The Armenians occupy the northern half of the Kingdom of Hatra while my own forces occupy towns that were once part of that kingdom, a kingdom that I believe was esteemed the strongest in the Parthian Empire.’

He spread his hands. ‘Now it lays prostrate and helpless before its enemies. The truth is, King Pacorus, that Parthia’s star is waning. Your high king would be well advised to consider that.’

Vagises beside me stirred with anger but I laid a hand on his arm.

‘It is true that the empire has been plagued by civil war,’ I said. ‘But that war has now ended and its instigator Mithridates is dead. The empire is united under King of Kings Orodes. You speak of the Armenians but you should know that it was not a great army that evicted them from Gordyene but a mere boy in command of a few thousand soldiers that I gave him. And now that same boy has grown into a man who torments Artavasdes as a lion harries a wounded prey.

‘I regret that you have rejected my high king’s offer because the easy victories you experienced last year have lulled you into a false sense of superiority. If you cross the Euphrates this year you will find that easy victories are hard to come by and you may experience the bitter taste of defeat instead.’

Cassius grew angry at my words. ‘You dare to insult us.’

I remained calm. ‘I do not threaten like an angry child, Cassius, I merely point out that Parthia will not lie down and let itself become one of Rome’s slaves.’

‘I am sure that other peoples who now call Rome “master” thought the same,’ he shot back.

‘They were not Parthian,’ I answered.

‘Your loyalty does you credit, King Pacorus,’ said Crassus, maintaining his calm demeanour, ‘but not even you can reverse the tide of history. You came to this city with an offer from your high king but now I make you an offer. If you submit to the authority of Rome then the Kingdom of Dura will be untouched by my army when it crosses the Euphrates. What is more, when the conquest of Parthia is complete you will be appointed king over all the territories from the Euphrates to the Indus to rule in Rome’s name, though I will naturally retain control over all trade routes. But you and your heirs will be the guardians of a new Roman eastern empire that will dwarf that of all previous kingdoms.’

I felt a sudden urge to laugh in his face though I controlled my emotions. Did he really think that I would sacrifice my friends, my family, my kingdom, my empire and my race to become a Roman puppet? In his mind he probably thought it a reasonable offer and perhaps regarded me with a degree of affection, like a man views his favourite dog. I picked up my silver cup filled with wine and took a sip.

‘Many years ago a man once told me that it is better to die on your feet than live on your knees,’ I said. ‘You think you offer riches and prosperity but in reality you offer nothing more than slavery; slavery for me and my heirs, for my kingdom and the people of my empire.’

‘I can take by force what I now offer, it makes no difference to me,’ he said dismissively.

Now I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the table. ‘Then do so, for by all that I hold dear I swear that I will never bow down to Rome or its servants.’

Cassius began to say something but Crassus silenced him. ‘That is your final word on the topic?’

I nodded. ‘It is.’

He pursed his lips. ‘That is regrettable. Twenty years ago you came to my house in Rome and I made you an offer.’

‘I remember,’ I said.

‘You refused it just as you refuse my offer now,’ he continued. ‘Then I promised that I would pursue Spartacus and the slave army until it was destroyed and I was true to my word. I also told you that when I took the field I would show no mercy to the enemies of Rome. I make the same promise to you now – there will be no quarter shown to you, your high king or any others who stand in my way.

‘Twenty years ago you managed to escape Italy and return to Parthia but now there is nowhere left to run to. Rome stands on the frontier of your empire. In your heart you must know that resistance is futile. Look around you, King Pacorus, at the magnificent palace we sit in. Where once the kings of the mighty Seleucid Empire walked now Roman soldiers patrol. Go north to Cappadocia and Pontus and you will see Roman banners flying from the walls of every town and city; travel south and you will see Roman legionaries keeping the peace in Judea and Egypt. Rome is destined to rule the world. No kingdom can stand against it, no empire can stand against it, much less one man.’

There was nothing left to say. The meeting ended with strained smiles and icy politeness but I knew that I had to get back to Dura as quickly as possible. The only comfort I could take from my visit to Antioch was that Crassus was supremely confident and that might make him casual in thinking that his march into Parthia would be nothing more than a victory parade. But perhaps he would act with speed and skill and be over the Euphrates with his legions before my army had left Dura. My heart sank with the thought that Marcus Licinius Crassus might indeed reach Ctesiphon before the month was out.

As I strolled from the meeting room with Vagises accompanying me I looked at the commander of my horse archers.

‘Please let me know the instant hairs begin to sprout on your palm.’

The next day we left Antioch, which appropriately was cold and wet with the peaks of mounts Silpius and Staurin wreathed in mist. Crassus maintained the role of perfect host, allocating his son to be our escort and bidding me farewell at the foot of the palace steps. Spartacus was delighted that Publius would be riding with us to the border and rode next to his new friend, both of them laughing and joking with each other.

‘It is a great shame that soon they will be trying to kill each other,’ I remarked as I observed them.

Crassus held out his hand. ‘It does not have to be so, there is still time for you to consider my offer.’

I took his hand. ‘I prefer freedom to slavery.’

He smiled. ‘Farewell, King Pacorus.’

I vaulted onto Remus’ back and led my men from Antioch’s palace. My soldiers wore their white cloaks around their shoulders and those of Publius scarlet mantles. The city streets were busy but not crowded as we rode along the main street and exited the city via the Iron Gate. This time there were no legionaries lining the road and so we had to thread our way past camels and mules loaded with wares and people on foot carrying great bundles of goods on their backs. After we had travelled past the two mountains it was easier to ride on the grass verge beside the road, and more convenient for the unshod horses of our hosts.

I rode at the head of the column beside Vagises but did not engage him in conversation. My mind was filled with thoughts of the coming clash with Crassus and the Armenians. From yesterday’s meeting it was clear that Rome wished to see Gordyene returned to Armenian control and that Crassus had the conquest of all the land between the Euphrates and Tigris as his initial aim. And after that? No doubt the rest of what was left of the Parthian Empire.

‘What’s this?’ Vagises’ voice brought me back to the present. Ahead a column of riders was approaching, perhaps a hundred or more, horsemen armed with spears and carrying shields on their left sides, though none were wearing helmets. At first I thought it was Bayas and his band of Syrian warriors who had returned to escort us to the frontier but as they got closer I saw that the man leading them was dressed in Roman war gear. I raised my hand to halt the column and Publius walked his horse forward to be beside me.

‘It appears that your father does not trust us to return to Parthia, Publius, and has sent additional soldiers to ensure we leave Syria as quickly as possible.’

‘I was not informed of an additional escort, sir,’ he replied.

It was not Bayas who led these Syrian riders but an individual I had hoped to avoid during my visit to Syria. He halted his horse before me, a haughty expression on the face that was enclosed by a shiny helmet with a ridiculously large red crest, while his torso was protected by a bronze muscled cuirass inlaid with silver and on his feet he wore ornate boots decorated with flaps in the shape of lions’ heads. His white tunic with a narrow purple stripe and large red cloak completed his appearance. Tall and imposing, Marcus Roscius regarded me coolly.

‘Greetings Marcus Roscius,’ I said. ‘I hope you have recovered from your illness.’

‘Legate Marcus Roscius,’ he replied stiffly. ‘I am here to ensure you leave Syria promptly.’

He saluted Publius. ‘Hail Publius Licinius Crassus. I will save you the trouble of having to ride all the way to the frontier.’

Publius was perplexed. ‘I was not informed that you would be joining me.’

Roscius smiled. ‘You have a campaign to prepare for, sir, now that Parthia has declared its hostility to your father. I have learned that King Artavasdes will be arriving at Antioch sooner than expected and I assume your father will require you to escort the retinue of a valued ally into the city.’

Publius glanced nervously at me. ‘I see. Well, it would seem that I must take my leave of you here, sir.’

I smiled at him. ‘You and your father have been excellent hosts, Publius. I thank you for your courtesy.’

He clasped his clenched fist to his chest. ‘Hail and farewell, King Pacorus. It has been an honour.’

He wheeled his horse about, clasped forearms with Spartacus and then signalled for his men to follow him. They rode back to the city leaving me with Roscius and his soldiers, who now took up position on the flanks of my own soldiers.

‘Nice lad, that Publius,’ remarked Vagises loudly. ‘Not like most Roman officers who are arrogant bastards.’

Roscius looked angrily at him but kept his mouth in check.

‘We must be one our way,’ he said curtly, yanking the reins of his horse to turn it around before trotting forward.

I gave the signal to follow and we recommenced our journey east. The weather was finally improving and the sun’s rays began to filter through the grey clouds above us to warm the earth. There was still coolness in the air, though, and so we kept our cloaks wrapped around us. Roscius rode ahead of Vagises and myself which was not only bad manners but also highly irritating. After a mile I had had enough.

‘Legate,’ I called to him, ‘is our company so disagreeable that you deem the only things worth showing to us are your horse’s arse and your back?’

Vagises laughed and Spartacus behind us guffawed. Roscius instantly halted his horse and sat still. I looked at Vagises in bewilderment and then heard a scraping noise. And then the killing began. The scraping sound had been Roscius drawing his sword that he now raised in the air as he wheeled his horse around and screamed at his men to charge. Fortunately the animal reared up on its hind legs, giving me a chance to react as behind me the air was filled with screams and shouts.

Instinctively I threw off my cloak and reached behind me to grab my bow in its case as I turned in the saddle to see my men being speared and killed by Roscius’ men. They thrust their spears into mail shirts, thighs and arms before my men had a chance to react and within no time the ground was littered with dead and dying horse archers. Vagises’ reflexes were quicker than mine and he had already nocked an arrow in his bowstring, which he released to send the missile into the back of a spearman who was thrusting his lance into the chest of a horse archer lying on the ground. The Syrian gave a yelp and then toppled from his saddle. Vagises shot another spearman, then another and another as he strung arrows in his bow and released them in a blur.