Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) (63 page)

‘You will stay in the city, admiral?’ I asked.

‘Yes. I have five hundred soldiers that came with me from Pontus. We thought we had found sanctuary here but it seems that wherever we go the Romans follow. But I shall not abandon Akrosas. He has been a friend and men need all the friends they can get in this world.’

I halted, the others behind me doing likewise.

‘Fine words, admiral,’ said Gallia, ‘and ones that have decided my husband’s course of action.’

Arcathius was confused but I looked at Domitus who smiled. I nodded at Drenis and he gave me a broad grin. Arminius laughed and slapped him on the back as Alcaeus looked around in confusion.

‘I will not stop anyone taking ship for Parthia,’ I said, ‘but I cannot turn my back on this city and its people when it is in mortal danger. I am staying.’

Cleon embraced his remaining comrades. ‘We are staying.’

Athineos looked at his crewmen and shook his head. ‘We are not soldiers, King Pacorus, but I reckon that the gods watch out for you so it makes sense to stay put with you. We’re in.’

‘Sense?’ Alcaeus was not amused. ‘The king displays a total absence of sense.’

‘I am not preventing you from leaving, Alcaeus,’ I said.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he snapped, ‘who else is going to patch you all up when the Romans have finished with you?’

So that was that. A bemused Arcathius left us to report to the king that we had decided to aid him in his fight against the Romans and after he had left we stood around, unsure what to do.

‘I suppose we should go back to the palace,’ I suggested.

‘An excellent idea, Pacorus,’ said Alcaeus. ‘We can all write our farewell letters to our friends and family.’

But as we ambled back to the palace our resident flustered steward ran out to greet us with flapping arms. He appeared to be in a state that was halfway between despair and rapture as he conveyed his king’s request to me.

‘Majesty, his majesty requests your presence in his reception chamber where the other majesties will also gather.’

‘A surfeit of majesties, it would appear,’ remarked Alcaeus dryly.

The steward beckoned what appeared to be a younger version of himself to come forward.

‘This man will show the rest of your party back to their quarters.’

He then smiled and clapped his hands together.

‘The gods smile on Histria for changing your heart, majesty.’

‘It was not the goods but foolish pride that did that,’ said Alcaeus behind me.

I ignored his barb. The steward looked at Domitus.

‘The king also requests that your general attend the meeting of kings.’

‘He will be delighted to attend,’ I answered for him.

‘You obviously made a great impression with your speech last night,’ I said to Domitus as we followed the steward back into the palace, the others of our party being escorted back to their rooms.

‘Not as great as the Romans will make on this city if they reach it,’ he snorted.

‘That is what we have to prevent, Domitus.’

The reception chamber was a medium-sized room to the rear of the throne room, which contained well-upholstered chairs, a large rectangular oak table and a white-painted ceiling and walls that gave it a light, airy feel. The other kings were already present when a guard showed us into the room, the steward bowing and leaving as the guard shut the door behind us.

‘Welcome, King Pacorus and General Domitus,’ smiled Akrosas. ‘Apollo sends a sign of our coming victory with your decision to stay at Histria.’

Radu, seated and holding a cup of wine, sneered but the others examined us thoughtfully. Akrosas introduced them, beginning with Draco, the leader of the Maedi. He was of average height with grey eyes and fair hair. Like his men he wore a red tunic but unlike them he sported a mail tunic that I guessed had been taken from a dead Roman. The leader of the Dacians, Burebista’s people, had wild green eyes and long, unkempt hair. He wore a simple white tunic, red leggings and brown boots, with a sword at his hip. His fierce appearance reminded me of the Gauls I had met in Italy. His name was Decebal.

Akrosas fussed around like a sheepdog, getting us seated and ordering wine to be brought. He was more like a kindly philosopher than a king. Domitus asked for water instead.

‘What’s the matter, Roman,’ said Radu, ‘don’t you have the stomach to drink like a man?’

‘Wine dulls the senses,’ replied Domitus nonchalantly, ‘and if you are going to avoid another defeat you will need all your sense in the coming days.’

Radu flicked a hand dismissively at him but Draco focused his eyes on Domitus.

‘You are a Roman?’

Domitus nodded. ‘I am.’

‘And yet you fight against your own kind?’ queried Draco.

‘I fight for my king,’ replied Domitus, ‘King Pacorus.’

‘And Akrosas has told us, King Pacorus,’ said Decebal, ‘that your army has defeated the Romans.’

‘It has,’ I answered.

‘How?’ asked Draco. He appeared to be very thoughtful, cunning even.

‘Our foot soldiers are armed, equipped and trained along Roman lines,’ Domitus told him. ‘Whereas the horse soldiers of King Pacorus are equipped and fight according to Parthian ways. But both horse and foot are trained to work together on the battlefield.’

Draco seemed impressed. ‘That must have been a time-consuming process.’

‘And a very expensive one,’ I added.

‘We are wasting time,’ said Radu loudly. ‘We need to stop the Romans otherwise they will be knocking on the gates of this city within the week.’

A concerned Akrosas looked at Domitus. ‘General, what strategy would you advise us to adopt?’

‘Simple,’ responded Domitus, ‘avoid battle.’

Radu guffawed loudly while Draco and Akrosas looked at each other in confusion.

‘You advise retreat before the enemy?’ said Decebal sharply.

Domitus sipped at the water that had been given him by a slave.

‘Not at all. I advise fighting the enemy, only not on his terms. To that end, can you tell me about the terrain the Romans are currently marching through, King Akrosas?’

Akrosas looked confused. ‘Terrain? What has that to do with anything?’

‘It has everything to do with your current situation, sir,’ said Domitus, trying to retain his patience.

Radu sighed rudely but Akrosas answered the question.

‘Around the city much of the land has been tamed and cultivated, but further out the land is covered with thick forests interspersed with open areas of bogs, grassland and village settlements.’

Domitus looked at Radu and Draco. ‘And you gave battle in one of these open areas?’

They both nodded.

Domitus stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘How many legions do the Romans have?’

Draco looked perplexed. ‘Legions?’

‘The Romans organise their armies around legions,’ Akrosas told him. ‘Each legion has as its emblem a silver eagle.’

‘One eagle,’ said Radu.

Domitus looked at me. ‘Well, that is something at least.’

But though the Romans only possessed one legion the numbers that could be raised by the men present in the room did not amount to much. Radu had two thousand foot soldiers, Draco could muster two hundred horsemen and two thousand warriors on foot, while Decebal had a total of two thousand, three hundred men, two hundred of which were mounted. The largest contingent was King Akrosas’ army of five hundred horsemen of his guard and three thousand foot soldiers. But the latter were mostly farmers and citizens that were ill armed and poorly trained. The only professional foot soldiers were the five hundred men from Pontus commanded by Admiral Arcathius. The kings could muster nine thousand foot and a thousand horsemen, but the great majority of the former would be swiftly defeated in an open battle with the Romans. Our problems were compounded when Radu revealed that the commander of the Roman army was a certain General Antonius Hybrida who had served under Sulla and had earned himself a reputation for brutality in Macedonia. That did not concern me but he was obviously a competent commander who would prove a resolute foe.

‘Hybrida spends his time burning villages and rounding up slaves,’ spat Radu. He looked at Akrosas. ‘Soon he will be doing the same in your kingdom.’

‘By doing so he gives us time to implement our plan,’ I said.

Akrosas raised an eyebrow. ‘Plan, King Pacorus?’

‘I thought you said we weren’t going to fight the Romans,’ said Draco, ‘or at least your general did.’

‘I said that you should avoid battle,’ Domitus corrected him, ‘which is entirely different.’

‘You talk in riddles, Roman,’ said Draco in exasperation.

‘Then let me put it plainly,’ replied Domitus, who was beginning to lose patience. ‘First of all you destroy the Roman horsemen so the enemy cannot scout the land they are marching through. Next, you use your warriors to set ambushes, mount flanking and harassing attacks and counterattacks. You attack and melt back into the forest before they can organise a response. You keep your forces scattered and in small groups so there is no main army for the Romans to attack. In this way you will wear them down and prohibit them from reaching this city.’

Akrosas seized on these words. ‘That sounds like a most excellent plan.’

He looked at the others. ‘What say the rest of you?’

Radu shrugged but acquiesced; Draco and Arcathius thought it a sound plan; but Decebal was against it.

‘My men are warriors. It is not the Dacian way to skulk around in the undergrowth and kill an enemy like thieves.’

Domitus rolled his eyes but I smiled at Decebal. ‘Then perhaps, lord king, you will join me when I ride out to deal with the Roman horsemen.’

‘How many horsemen do you have?’ he asked me.

‘Four, including myself,’ I replied.

There was an initial burst of laughter but this died away when they saw that I was serious, which in turn shamed them.

‘I will ride with you,’ said Decebal. ‘It would be humiliating to let so few face so many.’

‘It is my land that you will be riding through,’ remarked Radu, ‘so I will accompany you. Otherwise, Parthian, you will get lost.’

Draco also volunteered to go with me but Akrosas insisted that he should stay behind to be joint commander of the army of foot that would be following the horsemen. He probably realised that if Draco departed as well then he would be left to lead the rest of the army alone, something that no doubt filled him with trepidation. However, Draco did give his horsemen to Radu to command, the latter actually having no mounted troops of his own. Despite his protests Arcathius agreed to stay behind at Histria with his men to organise the defence of the city. Nevertheless, by the end of the meeting I had enlisted five hundred horsemen to be a part of the first stage of my plan.

‘You stay with Akrosas,’ I told Domitus afterwards. ‘Take Drenis and Arminius with you for company but above all make sure the king does not yield to his commanders and fight the Romans in the open.’

‘Why should he take any notice of me?’

I smiled. ‘Why? Because although he is a good man; Akrosas is not a good commander. He will stick to your advice like a shipwrecked man clings to driftwood. You can also keep an eye on Draco to ensure that he does nothing rash.’

It was past noon when I went to the royal armouries with Gallia, Surena and Burebista, clutching a hastily written commission from Akrosas granting me licence to take anything that I desired. We each requisitioned four quivers filled with missiles with triangular bronze arrowheads and then headed off to find horses. Drenis had told me that Thracian horses made excellent mounts and when we arrived at the stables, the satisfying aroma of leather and horseflesh filling the air, we discovered that he had not exaggerated. The royal mounts were sturdy beasts with long, thick manes and short tails. I chose a brown mare with a white star on her forehead and the others also chose mares, which were more stable than stallions. Even though Remus was a stallion, I had ridden him for years and grown accustomed to his moods and idiosyncrasies. I did not have the time to learn those of a new stallion. The harnesses were red leather and comprised nose bands, chin straps, forehead straps and throat lashes, all decorated with bronze discs. The breast and girth straps and reins were also red leather. The large red saddlecloths were edged with yellow and the saddles resembled our own four-horned models. However, when we rode from the citadel, through the city and out of the gates to link up with our ad hoc flying column of horsemen, I was surprised to see that many of the Dacians were sitting only on padded saddlecloths.

We rode to the front of the horsemen where Decebal was conversing with Radu. Like many of their men we did not wear helmets – the armouries having none to spare – the two of them registering surprise at Gallia’s presence. But Radu had been told of her arrival after the night of the full moon, which was interpreted as her being sent by Bendis to aid the city’s cause, so he said nothing. Decebal was more forthcoming.

‘You bring your queen along, King Pacorus?’

‘She is a Gaul, lord king,’ I said, ‘a most warlike race.’