Read Carrhae Online

Authors: Peter Darman

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

Carrhae (78 page)

The Romans stood in silent defiance, swords in hands as Vagises surrounded them with four companies of horse archers, who calmly strung arrows in their bowstrings and waited for the order to shoot.

‘Wait!’ I shouted, then nudged Remus forward to join Vagises.

‘This won’t take long,’ he said.

‘Don’t waste your arrows, order your men to stand down.’

He looked at me in confusion. ‘Why?’

‘Young Spartacus has his eagle,’ I replied. ‘We could have accepted the surrender of the Romans but Gallia persuaded me to fight them so a boy could marry an Agraci princess. A lot of men have died to facilitate that union. I see no reason to add to the butcher’s bill.’

He called forward one of his officers and relayed my order. Fresh horn calls led to the ring of horse archers placing their arrows back in their quivers and then wheeling about, leaving twenty Romans relieved and confused in equal measure.

‘You are getting soft in your old age, Pacorus,’ Vagises ribbed me. ‘They would not show the same mercy if the positions were reversed.’

‘That is why we are better than them, my friend.’

I nudged Remus forward and halted him around twenty paces from the Romans, who raised their swords at my approach.

‘Soldiers of Rome, you have done all that valour and honour requires and are now free to go back to Syria. When you reach Roman territory once more you can tell all those who will listen that only defeat and death awaits those who invade Parthia. Tell Rome that I, Pacorus of Dura, will crush every army that it sends against the Parthian Empire, just as I have destroyed your army.’

I wheeled Remus about and rode him north as my wife and the Amazons fell in behind me and then company after company of horse archers and cataphracts formed column to follow me. Spartacus rode behind myself, Vagises and Gallia, grinning like a simple-minded fool to all and sundry as he held the trophy in his hand. But the decision to fight for the legionary eagle had been bought at a high price when Byrd and Malik returned to us with news that Crassus had reached the safety of Carrhae’s walls.

Surena had chased him all the way to the town gates but a volley of arrows from the walls had forced his withdrawal. He had approached the gates under a flag of truce and requested a meeting with Crassus concerning the agreement of a peace treaty between Rome and Parthia, which was highly presumptuous on the King of Gordyene’s part but did at least confirm that the Roman commander was in the town. An officer replied that Crassus would reply to Surena’s demand the next day.

We made camp three miles south of the town, near the rippling waters of the Balikh River. At last we could immerse ourselves in its cool waters and wash the filth and blood from our bodies. We unsaddled our horses and brought them cool water to drink and then sat down to work out our next course of action. The prisoners were also allowed to drink from the river and wash their wounds, and their fate was our immediate concern.

‘How many do we have?’ I asked as we sat on stools in a circle round a fire as darkness enveloped the earth, the dim glow of torches on the walls of Carrhae visible in the distance.

‘Just under seven thousand,’ answered Vagises. ‘If we take any more they will outnumber us.’

‘The sensible thing would be to kill them,’ said Surena without emotion.

‘I am not in favour of killing prisoners,’ I said, ‘especially as we now have the means to feed them.’

Before night had fallen Vagises had diverted five hundred of his men across the river to take possession of the Roman camp a short distance away, from where Crassus had marched to engage us. They found it stuffed full of supplies and mules, which would all be conveyed back to Dura. A company was left to guard it while the rest brought back a horde of biscuits, wine, bread, cured pork and grain in wagons.

‘Once they have been taken back to Dura,’ I continued, ‘Orodes can decide their fate. Vagises, how many of the enemy do you think lie dead on this plain?’

He shrugged. ‘Difficult to say, but a guess would put the figure at around twenty thousand, give or take.’

‘That still leaves over twenty thousand Roman soldiers in Carrhae, lord,’ said Surena, ‘plus their commander.’

‘We must prevent him from getting back to Syria and raising another army,’ added Vagises.

‘We have no engines to lay siege to Carrhae,’ said Surena.

That was true but Carrhae was a small town and although it had walls it would not have the provisions to sustain twenty thousand soldiers in addition to its garrison and the population.

‘Crassus will have to either escape from the town or enter into a peace treaty,’ I told them all. ‘There is no other army in Syria to come to his aid and his Armenian allies have been defeated and are being pursued by Orodes. Tomorrow we surround Carrhae and wait for Crassus to come to us.’

Later, after the others had retired to their tents, I could not sleep and sat with Gallia, tossing logs onto the fire. We wrapped our cloaks around us for there was a cool wind blowing from the foothills of the Taurus Mountains to the north of Carrhae. It had been a remarkable two days that had seen Parthia defeat a numerically superior Roman army and take possession of no less than seven legionary eagles. As far as I knew this feat was unique in the annals of warfare. All that remained was to agree a peace treaty with Crassus.

‘Can you make a treaty without Orodes?’ she inquired.

‘Orodes is not here and the time to treat with Crassus is now, when his army lies in tatters and Syria is open to invasion.’

‘You think Crassus will agree to a treaty?’

I smiled at her. ‘He has no choice. He cannot leave Carrhae without my permission and the price of his freedom is a binding treaty.’

She giggled. ‘Crassus the slave, at the mercy of Pacorus, his master. I like that. And what are the terms of your treaty?’

‘Quite simple. The Euphrates shall define the boundary between the empires of Rome and Parthia in perpetuity, and Armenia will no longer be a client state of Rome but will be independent, free to make its own destiny.’

She sighed. ‘Even after all these years you still know so little of the Romans.’

‘I do not understand.’

She tilted her head and looked at me lovingly. ‘To you preservation is everything – preserving Hatra, preserving the empire and the ways of your father and grandfather.’

‘What is wrong with that?’

‘Nothing, absolutely nothing, but to the Romans it is anathema. Rome desires to rule the whole world and subjugate all the peoples who live in it to its rule, and it will not rest until it has done so. Twenty years ago we escaped Italy and came to Parthia, and now we sit round a fire after having fought another Roman army, just as we did when we were with Spartacus all those years ago.’

‘Are you suggesting I should march against Rome?’ I asked half-seriously.

She sighed. ‘I am saying that it a waste of time talking to Crassus. He will say anything to secure his escape, and once he is back in Syria will raise a new army to satisfy his thirst for conquest.’

I leaned across and put my arm around her. ‘I think you will find that he will be more than willing to talk to me tomorrow, my sweet.’

But Gallia was right and Crassus stole a march on me, leaving Carrhae as I sat on a stool talking to my wife by a fire.

It was two hours after dawn the following day when I learned from Malik that Crassus had left the town, along with what remained of his army. Byrd and their men had been scouting the area north and west of Carrhae when they witnessed three columns of legionaries leave the town and head towards the foothills of the mountains. My heart sank as I realised that Crassus was on the verge of making good his escape.

I hurriedly saddled Remus and collected together five hundred horse archers, the Amazons and a further thousand of Surena’s men and rode with him and them north. We skirted Carrhae and headed north towards the foothills of the mountains. We left Vagises behind with orders to allocate guards to watch the prisoners, distribute the camel train’s remaining spare arrows among the horse archers and then bring them and the cataphracts north to scour the area.

I cursed my luck as Remus galloped among the scrub and I searched for Crassus. In front of us were the hills of Sinnaca, an area of thick woods, steep slopes and rocky paths, country that was ideal for travel on foot and for eluding horsemen. If Crassus had managed to reach the hills the game was up and he would be back in Syria in two days. A mile north of Carrhae we encountered Byrd and a dozen of his scouts, one of whom was riding a donkey.

‘This is Abgarus, a cousin of Andromachus,’ reported Byrd. ‘He inform me of whereabouts of Crassus.’

I closed my eyes and thanked Shamash for this miracle. The man on a donkey was an unprepossessing sight, with straggly long hair and a lazy left eye. Nevertheless, if accurate his information was invaluable.

The man smiled as Vagises arrived at the head of two companies of horsemen to swell our force.

‘You saw Crassus?’ I asked.

He shook his head. ‘No, lord.’

I gripped my reins tightly in frustration. ‘Then how do you know where he is?’

He smiled submissively again. ‘I saw three groups leave Carrhae last night, lord, but only one contained lictors.’

Surena was confused. ‘Lictors?’

‘Special Roman administrators in plain white togas,’ I told him. ‘On their left shoulders they carry bundles of vine rods bound together by red bands from which an axe head protrudes. These rods are emblems of Roman unity and power but, more importantly, they escort Rome’s consuls and governors on their journeys, the bearers acting as bodyguards.’

‘These lictors half a mile away,’ said Byrd, ‘in a marsh.’

I smiled at Abgarus. ‘My thanks to you. How can I reward you?’

‘I have lived in Carrhae all my life, lord, and made a good living until the Romans came and brought with them their taxes. Now I live in penury.’

From his appearance I knew he was telling the truth.

‘Their expulsion from Carrhae will be reward enough.’

Byrd thanked him and tossed him a bulging leather pouch. Abgarus’ eyes lit up when he looked at the contents and began whistling as he tapped the donkey on the flank and rode back down the road to Carrhae. I had a feeling that he was poor no longer.

Byrd led the way as we left the road and headed in a southeasterly direction, riding over slightly undulating ground towards the hills of Sinnaca. The scrub was getting thicker now with small groups of oak and almond trees dotting the landscape. Byrd slowed his horse as a great expanse of marshland loomed into view, a lush green area of reeds, grasses and low-growing shrubs. The Romans were in the process of extricating themselves from this wetland, to head for the steep slopes of the hills that rose up on our left.

‘Why would they enter such terrain?’ asked Gallia.

‘Get lost in dark,’ replied Byrd, ‘no moon last night.’

Our attention was diverted from the Romans in front of us by the sound of trumpets and I saw a second Roman force appear from those hills and began descending the slope. I estimated their strength to be four cohorts as they marched slowly down the hill to place themselves between Crassus and us.

Surena drew his sword and pointed it forward to signal the advance to his officers behind. We had perhaps two thousand horse archers to throw against two thousand Romans rapidly descending the hill to face us, plus perhaps another three thousand under Crassus. The ground was covered in bushes and we were on the edge of a marsh, which meant we would not be able to outflank the enemy, with the wetlands on one wing and the hills on the other. We would have to charge straight at the Romans, who even though were tired, hungry and deficient in weaponry would still be able to lock shields and halt our advance. We might be able to stand off and shoot down their front ranks but Crassus could still escape into the hills.

‘Surena,’ I said, ‘we cannot destroy them.’

He held up his hand to stay his officers and then turned in the saddle to look at me.

‘We have them, lord. One more charge and we will rid the world of Crassus.’

I smiled though I could have wept. ‘We cannot outflank them and our horse archers are already low on ammunition. After they have used up all their arrows they will not be able to cut their way through ten ranks or more of legionaries.’

‘My other horse archers and your cataphracts will be here soon,’ he insisted, ‘we can hold the enemy’s attention until they arrive.’

I admired his tenacity but the thickening ranks of Romans in front told me our efforts would be futile. Whoever commanded the group of legionaries that had been on the hillside had not only saved Crassus but also his campaign. Now he would escape into the hills, return to Syria and raise another army. I suddenly felt tired and old as the fruits of our great victory withered before my eyes.

‘What now?’ asked Vagises as Surena slammed his sword back in its scabbard in frustration.

‘We watch the Romans withdraw up the hillside,’ I said.

The enemy force that had descended the slope to face us was now fully deployed and presented a shield wall to deter our arrows, with the ranks behind holding their shields above their heads to defeat our missiles. Remus scraped at the ground as more and more of Surena’s horse archers swelled our ranks. It made no difference: we could have fifty thousand men and would still not be able to break the enemy before Crassus escaped. Then I saw a handful of white-robed individuals scrambling up the steep grassy slope and knew they were the lictors, which told me that the governor was with them, though I could not identify him.

I pointed at the small white figures ascending the hill. ‘You see those men wearing white, they are the lictors and Crassus is with them.’

‘How far are they away?’ asked Gallia.

‘Seven hundred paces, perhaps more,’ said Vagises.

She pulled her bow from its case and nocked an arrow in the bowstring. ‘Amazons! Aim shots at those whites figures on the hillside.’

‘You are wasting your arrows,’ I told her as she released her arrow at a high angle, the missile arching into the sky and disappearing from view. Seconds later dozens of arrows were flying towards the Romans scrambling up the hill as the Amazons vented their frustration.

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