‘So the enemy has shown his face?’ he grinned.

  I pointed to the north, ‘I need you and your men to form a screen while the army is deploying. Get close to the enemy and annoy them.’

  ‘Try not to get yourself killed,’ Gallia told him.

  He winked at her. ‘Don’t you worry about me, princess.’

  Then he and his warlords were gone and moments later a thousand horsemen thundered past us, throwing up more dust covering us all in a fine layer of dirt. But at least they would buy us precious time to allow us to get our men into position. Salar insisted the elephants be placed in front of his foot swordsmen with his foot archers placed between the great lumbering beasts. They would walk forward beside the elephants, shooting volleys of arrows at the enemy before the steel-clad beasts smashed through the centre of the enemy line. On their immediate flanks would be Salar’s lancers, ready to support the elephants, though not too close for horses dislike the behemoths. They are not the only ones. I remembered the beasts stampeding when we faced Porus all those years ago. For that reason we were glad to be on the flanks of the army.

  In battle men, and women, like to die among their family are friends. So Dura’s thousand horse archers and hundred Amazons would be deployed on the right flank, alongside Nergal and Praxima’s two thousand horse archers. The left flank would comprise Gafarn’s fifteen hundred Hatran horse archers, the horsemen of his son Spartacus – two thousand men – plus the two thousand Agraci commanded by Rasha’s brother, Malik.

  ‘The gods be with you all,’ I said after we had decided on our dispositions.

  I embraced Gafarn and Nergal, Gallia doing the same with Rasha and Praxima. I was not fearful for myself but minor worries gnawed at me like a toothache. We had come to Sakastan to attend a wedding and so had left the camels carrying ammunition behind, as had the other kings. This meant, notwithstanding some spare ammunition, we were short of arrows when it came to fighting a battle, each man carrying two quivers – a paltry sixty arrows per archer. But my biggest concern was Salar, as yet untested in battle and indeed untested as a king. When he had remounted his horse, I called Kewab over.

  ‘Stay close to the king. If the battle goes against us make sure he gets back to Sigal. Sakastan cannot afford to lose another king so soon after Peroz’s murder.’

  ‘Yes, majesty.’

  He saluted and returned to his horse. I stared at the stones arranged in a line on the ground and wondered if the Kushan commander was doing the same. I stepped over them and walked to Tegha , hauling myself into the saddle. The six horse archers acting as my bodyguard were relaxed and confident, though I still worried about the army’s dire lack of arrows. Zenobia with my griffin banner sat with them, Gallia taking over the command of the Amazons. Perhaps I should have asked Salar to command his foot archers to surrender some of their missiles to the horsemen. But that would serve only to weaken our centre. I turned Tegha and directed him towards the fifteen hundred cataphracts arrayed in two blocks: a dragon of Durans and half a dragon of Hatrans. Prince Pacorus was deep in conversation with Azad, the latter with his full-face helmet shoved up on his head. Pacorus stopped and bowed his head to me.

  ‘Uncle, are you joining us?’

  ‘I am not dressed for the part,’ I answered. ‘Stay close to the Sakas. If they break, you will be our last hope.’

  Pacorus was shocked. ‘You have no faith in Salar?’

  ‘Of course, but faith does not win battles and we have as yet no idea how large the enemy army is.’

  Azad looked past me. ‘We are about to find out.’

  I turned in the saddle to see Talib galloping towards us. His face was beaded in sweat and his horse was panting heavily but my chief scout was ecstatic.

  ‘We outnumber the Kushans by three to one, majesty, perhaps more. They have no foot soldiers and my men inform me their line is stretched thin.’

  Relief surged through me. ‘Well done, Talib. Ride with me to convey the news to King Salar. How far away are the Kushans?’

  He turned to squint northwards. ‘Two miles, perhaps more. Lord Kalet has slowed them down.’

  I wished Pacorus and Azad good fortune in the battle to come and rode to where Salar was positioned in front of his huge elephant banner flanked by Shapur and Kewab. Immediately behind them was a company of the king’s guard and behind them five thousand swordsmen on foot, attired in colourful yellow loose-fitting tunics, baggy red leggings, and leather caps on their heads. Their ox-hide shields all sported elephant emblems, as did the many standards among their ranks. Either side of them rode Salar’s lancers, the sun glinting off the iron scales covering their leather cuirasses.

  The five thousand archers with their long bamboo bows that required one end to be anchored on the ground when used, were interspersed among the elephants. When we reached Salar the great beasts all seemed to be depositing large piles of dung on the ground. So much for the grand spectacle of battle!

  Talib conveyed the welcome news that the Kushans were substantially outnumbered, which dispelled any doubts he had about the coming clash. Salar told Shapur to convey the news to his senior officers and then wished me well as I took my leave to ride across to my wife on the right flank. I cantered across the front of the horse archers of Mesene, Nergal’s men raising their bows in salute and cheering. I raised my hand in recognition and caught sight on my left of the return of Kalet and his men, ill-disciplined as usual as they galloped towards the army in their usual carefree fashion.

  Kalet reported to me personally when I had reached Gallia, who was in the company of Nergal and Praxima and surrounded by Amazons. The whole army was now fully deployed and advancing steadily towards the Kushans, now filling the middle distance.

  ‘They have elephants,’ were Kalet’s first words. ‘It’s bloody hot,’ were his second. He grabbed his waterskin, uncorked it and took a swig.

  ‘Your future son-in-law is still alive, by the way,’ he said to me.

  ‘How many men did you lose?’ I asked, unconcerned about Vartan.

  ‘A few dozen, perhaps, they have horse archers who know how to shoot a bow.’

  I stared at the advancing Kushans, elephants in the centre and horsemen on either side. But their line was shorter compared to our own and I felt a tingle of excitement as I anticipated our two wings sweeping around their flanks to envelop them.

  Kalet put my thoughts into words. ‘Easy victory, then.’

  ‘You have done sterling service,’ I told him, ‘get your men behind the cataphracts. Once you and they are rested there should be rich pickings after we have routed the Kushans.’

  He raised a hand, tugged on his reins and nudged his horse back to his dust-covered men. The whole army was advancing slowly across the parched ground towards the Kushans, the centre a blaze of red and yellow uniforms and banners. The elephants raised their trunks and the kettledrummers and trumpeters filled the air with noise. A pre-battle surge of emotion gripped me as I suddenly felt young again, my senses heightened by the prospect of imminent battle. I saw the banners of the enemy hanging limply on their flagstaffs. Then there was a gust of wind that came from nowhere, the enemy banners unfurled and I was deflated. The wind must have been sent by the gods because suddenly there was a host of cobra standards dancing in the hot air. Cobras! My mind went back to the date palm grove and my tussle with the king cobra and it all suddenly made sense.

  ‘They’ve stopped.’

  I barely heard Gallia’s voice beside me, muffled as it was by the large cheek guards of her helmet protecting her face. She was pointing to the left, towards Nergal’s horse archers on our flank and the great mass of Salar’s horsemen and foot soldiers in the centre, a mile distant, who had suddenly halted. She turned and ordered the Amazons and our own horse archers to stop. And in front of us the short Kushan line continued to advance slowly towards us, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were greatly outnumbered. A creeping fear embraced me when I caught sight of a lone rider galloping towards us. And in that moment I knew we had lost the battle.

  Talib drew up his horse and did not bother to salute.

  ‘A great army is assaulting Sigal, majesty.’

  ‘What?’ Gallia was disbelieving but I knew he spoke the truth.

  Talib was above all a professional, a man who left nothing to chance. He always ensured some of his scouts trailed in the rear of the army to guard against surprise attacks. His diligence and foresight had paid off because one of those scouts had nearly run his horse into the ground to bring news that a fresh army had appeared from the hills to the east of Sigal. That army was now fording the river to attack the city, a city defended by less than a thousand men.

  ‘Take the Amazons and horse archers back to the city,’ I told Gallia. ‘I will ride to Nergal and ask him to follow you.’

  Gallia looked at me in astonishment. ‘Go!’ I shouted, ‘or our daughters and the city will be lost.’

  I left her to ride across to Nergal and Praxima, telling them the dire news.

  ‘I request that you ride south with Gallia, my friends, along with your men.’

  They needed no second promoting and within minutes two thousand horse archers had wheeled about and were following the Durans. The army’s entire right wing had left the battlefield. I continued on to Salar, the king in the midst of his guard with an anxious Shapur beside him. He already knew what was happening, the knowledge weighing down heavily on him. He looked a pale shadow of the man who had marched from Sigal full of confidence earlier.

  ‘I will ride south back to the city,’ I told him, ‘with the Durans, Mesenians and my lords.’

  I looked at the Saka horsemen to my immediate right – twenty-five hundred lancers in helmets and scale armour cuirasses carrying shields and swords.

  ‘I request half of your horsemen,’ I said to Salar.

  He blanched. ‘Half?’

  There was no time for politeness. ‘Added to what was our right wing I might be able to hold off the enemy army before Sigal while you organise a withdrawal. If not, then your kingdom is lost.’

  He nodded and Shapur sent a rider to the lancers’ commander ordering him and them to follow King Pacorus of Dura back to the city.

  ‘May the gods be with you,’ I said, turning Tegha and directing him towards the mass of horse archers kicking up a dust cloud as they cantered south.

  ‘Inform Lord Kalet that he is to follow me,’ I commanded Talib.

  It was fifteen miles back to Sigal and the temptation was to gallop the horses to cover the flat, parched terrain as quickly as possible. But it was just past midday and the sun was scorching everything below, the temperature rising alarmingly. It would be futile to arrive at the city with blown horses on the verge of collapse, and Kalet and his men had already been duelling with the Kushans. So we cantered south, intermittently reducing our speed to a trot for short periods. It was infuriatingly frustrating.

  No one spoke during the journey.

  Gallia and Praxima were livid, Nergal stern faced and Kalet stoic.

  ‘Marcus is a calm head,’ said Nergal eventually, ‘he will not let the city fall.’

  But my head was filled with image of hordes of Kushan soldiers equipped with scaling ladders swarming over the walls and putting everyone inside to the sword. I thought of my daughters, Byrd, Noora, Diana and Jamal and wanted to scream in frustration. We had been well and truly duped. As we neared Sigal apprehension filled my belly. What sight would greet us? Had the city already fallen?

  We approached the city from the northwest, the barren dirt giving way to green vegetation as we approached the fields and vineyards irrigated by the Erymanthus. Ominously, there were no pickers or labourers, indicating they had fled into Sigal.

  ‘Head straight for the river,’ I said to those around me, ‘once there we can swing right to strike the enemy in the flank.’

  ‘If they are not already in the city,’ said Nergal darkly.

  We could see the citadel clearly now and there was no smoke coming from it or indeed around it, giving cause for optimism that the walls had not been breached. We picked up the pace, moving through the fields to trample crops ripe for harvesting. Then we were through to the river. I pulled up Tegha and stared in horror at the scene further downstream, where hundreds of men were fording the waterway.

  They were light foot soldiers – skirmishers – each equipped with a wicker shield, two or three javelins and a sword. They wore nothing on their feet, no armour on their bodies and a blue turban sufficed for head protection. But there were thousands of them and many were carrying scaling ladders. The stretch of land between the city gates and the river was steadily filling with Kushan soldiers. Already a phalanx of foot longbowmen was shooting arrows into the city and at the defenders on the walls. Forming a cordon around them were spearmen carrying long, narrow shields comprising a wooden frame over which was stretched ox hide. These men were well protected by leather body armour and iron helmets. As well as his spear, each man was armed with a sword.

  ‘We must scatter the skirmishers and drive them back across the river before they can get close to the walls,’ I said out loud. ‘Where’s the commander of Salar’s men.’

  The wiry leader of the lancers reported to me and I told him to form his men into a wedge that would drive through the enemy.

  ‘Our horse archers will follow,’ I told him.

  He saluted and went back to his soldiers, moments later trumpeters relaying orders to his men who deployed into their battle formation.

  ‘I hope we have arrows enough,’ said Nergal.

  We had arrived with just over seven and a half thousand horsemen, five thousand of which had bows. With each horse archer carrying two quivers that equated to three hundred thousand arrows. On the training field against straw targets it would have been more than sufficient, but in the chaos of battle not even a Parthian could ensure every arrow he shot would find a target. And the enemy also had archers.

  ‘Shamash be with you,’ I said, pulling my bow from its case by my side and nocking an arrow in the bowstring.

  Trumpets sounded to our front where Salar’s lancers had formed into a wedge three ranks deep, signalling the advance. I shook the hand of Nergal and lent over to embrace Praxima as our horse archers deployed left and right to follow the Sakas.

  We shot two volleys over the heads of Salar’s lancers as they charged, the arrows landing a couple of hundred yards in front of them to hopefully spread disorder among the enemy foot soldiers. But the Kushans had anticipated our attack and had formed a defensive square around their longbowmen. This meant our charge struck empty space as those enemy troops near the river dashed towards the city where the square was forming, and the skirmishers retreated back into the shallow water of the river. So seven and a half thousand horsemen galloped alongside the river, having achieved nothing, the lancers pulling up when we had advanced around five hundred yards.

  In the dust haze it was difficult to get an accurate estimation of the situation, but as I turned Tegha I saw the black square of the enemy near the city gates on my left, the clear stretch of ground that we had just covered in the centre, and on the right the river filled with blue turbans.

  ‘That was a waste of time,’ said Nergal, Praxima beside him.

  ‘We should shoot at the men in the river,’ she advised, ‘we will never break that square.’

  ‘At least the enemy are no longer shooting at the defenders on the walls,’ said Gallia, pointing to the enemy square, which looked alarmingly like a Roman legion so disciplined did it appear.

  ‘Agreed,’ I said, ‘those men in the river are carrying scaling ladders and have no armour protection.’

  Within moments three thousand horse archers were lining the riverbank, shooting at thousands of enemy foot soldiers desperately trying to wade through the water to reach to opposite bank. It was satisfying to take careful aim from a stationary position and see my arrows strike flesh, figures collapsing in the muddy water and, more importantly, scaling ladders abandoned and drifting downstream.

  ‘Just like old times, Pacorus,’ grinned Nergal beside me.

  His face froze in astonishment as two arrows thumped into his left leg. He dropped his bow and Praxima screamed. She was joined by others as iron-tipped cane arrows began falling like rain among us, striking unarmoured horse archers and their mounts, horses rearing up to throw their riders.

  ‘Retreat.’ I shouted, an order conveyed by horns as the horse archers of Dura and Mesene scattered to ride back to their starting positions.

  All order was abandoned as we shouted at our horses to move faster, more arrows felling beasts and their riders as the Kushan longbowmen unleashed another volley. Praxima had grabbed Nergal to prevent him from falling from his saddle. I rode on the other side of his horse to steady the beast, all three of us managing to canter further upstream, away from the Kushan square. One of Nergal’s officers had managed to retrieve his king’s bow and handed it to me when we halted.

  We laid him down in the shade of a date palm grove, dismounted horsemen forming a screen of archers to our front. Praxima ripped off her helmet and cradled her husband, whose leggings were now soaked in blood, the arrows still lodge in his leg. Gallia was beside her, handing over her leather belt that she had unbuckled.

  ‘Strap it round his wounded leg to staunch the loss of blood.’

  Kalet appeared, jumping from his horse to report to me. He looked at the ashen-faced Nergal.

  ‘That looks bad.’

  ‘Shut up. Report.’

  He bristled at my tone but told me what was happening.

  ‘Those lancers took the brunt of the enemy’s arrows; we were hit by the ones that overshot. I reckon that around a quarter of Salar’s men were dropped.’

  ‘And yours?’

  ‘We scarpered as soon as the first enemy arrows fell. We lost maybe fifty, maybe more. What now?’

  I looked with concern at Nergal. ‘Now we wait for the rest of the army to arrive.’

  Praxima, still holding Nergal, turned to me. ‘We need to get him into the city, to Alcaeus, quickly.’