‘There is no time,’ I told him, ‘we must leave at once.’

  I looked at Spartacus. ‘If Phraates is dead then I assume it will satisfy your honour and wipe away the insult dealt to you and Rasha. The empire needs you, Spartacus, you and every man who can ride and shoot a bow.’

  ‘Very well, uncle, for the sake of the empire, and since I have no desire to become a Roman puppet, I will ride east with you. Though if Phraates still lives I will still expect an apology from him before normalcy is restored.’

  ‘Normalcy?’ I said. ‘We might be living in the end of days as far as the empire is concerned.’

  The horsemen we had brought into Gordyene were camped for several miles along the banks of the Pambak where they could water their horses and camels and graze on the abundant grassland either side of the waterway. Despite the urgency of the situation it took time to assemble Spartacus’ horsemen, many being garrisoned in adjacent valleys rather than concentrated in and around Vanadzor. But one formation quartered in the city was the source of great pride for the queen who insisted I, Gallia, Praxima and Diana join her to view this body. I had better things to do but surrendered to the lobbying of my wife and her friends. So I was sitting on Tegha in front of Rasha’s palace while she showed my wife, Diana and Praxima the soldiers lined up on parade before us. Spartacus was beside me on his horse, bursting with pride over his wife’s achievements.

  ‘They are called Vipers,’ Spartacus told me, ‘in honour of the queen of the same name who was Surena’s wife. They are all single women who have taken an oath to act as Rasha’s bodyguard.’

  I looked at the well-dressed lines of horse archers, all wearing soft pointed hats, short swords at their hips, bows in leather cases and two full quivers attached to their saddles.

  ‘How many do they number?’

  ‘Five hundred, uncle.’

  I did a quick calculation in my head.

  ‘Forty-one thousand men, and women, against over one hundred thousand. We shall have to choose our tactics carefully.’

  ‘You should have brought your legions north, uncle.’

  ‘Two legions cannot prevail against twelve. Our only hope is to slow the Romans down to give Phraates time to rally the rest of the empire.’

  ‘If we can find him. If he still lives.’

  We emptied the armouries of Vanadzor of arrows to supplement the vast quantity we had brought with us; packhorses and camels were loaded down with missiles when the army marched from the city two days after the parade of the Vipers. Gordyene’s scouts led the way, showing us across steppe plains sweet with the aroma of flowers and through valleys crowded with dense forests. The plethora of rivers and streams enabled both riders and beasts to refresh themselves on a regular basis, but Gordyene was not open like Dura or Hatra so the pace was frustratingly slow. Threading a path through valleys, forests and rocky terrain also strung out the army over several miles. I sent Talib and his scouts ahead to accompany Spartacus’ scouts who disappeared for days on end only adding to my frustration. With each passing day the scenarios filling my head became darker and more desperate. I sank into a state of near despair.

  ‘This is a beautiful country.’

  Claudia in contrast was deliriously happy, Valak beside her after she had badgered me into submission to allow Silaces’ commander to ride with her, Alaric ever present.

  ‘Dura is so bleak and dusty,’ she opined as she looked around at the oaks spreading before us and upwards to blanket the slopes of the mountain we were riding alongside. Her eyes settled on Valak and she gave him a dazzling smile.

  ‘So beautiful.’

  ‘Perhaps we should halt the march so you can pick flowers, Claudia, or catch butterflies?’

  ‘Pacorus, I hardly think you can blame Claudia for the Romans invading Parthia,’ Gallia upbraided me.

  ‘It is quite all right, mother, she told me father has always been impatient and acts like a small boy when he cannot have his own way.’

  I glared at her. ‘Who told you?’

  ‘An old friend. Why do you fear the Romans?’

  I halted Tegha. ‘I do not fear the Romans but I do not underestimate them.’

  ‘They are not gods, father,’ she said dismissively, ‘they are mere mortals who have the same weaknesses as other men.’

  ‘In case you have not being paying attention,’ I replied icily, ‘they have just defeated Phraates and killed Atrax, brushing them aside with ease. The empire lays exposed to their swords.’

  She threw back her head and laughed. ‘Oh, father, you are such a hopeless romantic. The empire will survive the loss of Atrax and Phraates is more resourceful than you give him credit for. Anyone who has survived the poisonous swamp of Ctesiphon is more than a match for the Romans. It is you who should have faith, father.’

  ‘Faith in what?’ I said, urging Tegha forward.

  ‘In the gods and in yourself,’ she answered.

  I remembered Dobbai’s words about the gods and had little faith they would intervene as long as men were killing each other for their amusement. But as we left the mountains and forests and neared Lake Urmia I became slightly more optimistic, if only because the terrain became flatter, which allowed us to pick up the pace. I was wondering if Talib and his men had been intercepted by the enemy and captured or killed, when they rode into camp early one evening as the army pitched its tents on the edge of an expansive mountain plain stretching towards the east.

  Their horses sweating and tired, their riders only slightly less so, eyes dark-rimmed and bloodshot, they reported to me immediately as the sun waned in the sky. I told Talib to remain in the saddle and the rest to get some food inside them. I sent couriers to alert Gafarn, Nergal and Silaces and request their presence at the tent of Spartacus where I rode with Talib. Sentries took our horses as we made our way into the large circular calfskin structure in the centre of the Gordyene camp to find the king and queen already in conversation with one of the scouts who had accompanied Talib and his men. The swarthy Spadines, also in attendance, grinned at me when we entered. Talib nodded at the equally tired scout standing beside his king who was unfolding a hide map.

  ‘I have asked the other kings to attend,’ I said.

  Spartacus nodded. ‘Fetch wine.’

  He looked at the two scouts. ‘Sit, both of you before you collapse.’

  Relieved, they flopped down on stools and held their heads in their hands. Rasha filled two cups with water and passed them to the scouts. I heard horses being pulled up outside and voices as the tent flaps opened to reveal Gafarn and Pacorus, followed by Nergal and Silaces. Pacorus embraced his brother and Rasha and frowned at the bedraggled Spadines. Soldiers entered seconds later with refreshments for us.

  Spartacus pointed at the map on the table, around which we gathered. It showed Lake Urmia, Gordyene, Media, Armenia, Atropaiene and the Caspian Sea.

  ‘The enemy is here, approaching Lake Urmia, around fifty miles south of the Araxes River. Both Romans and Armenians. They move slowly due to the hundreds of wagons accompanying them.’

  I did a quick calculation in my head.

  ‘They are moving unusually slowly. Where is Phraates and his army?’

  ‘We do not know, majesty,’ said Talib, ‘we scouted to the north of the great lake where we encountered the Romans and Armenians.’

  ‘We must intercept them as quickly as possible,’ stated Spartacus.

  ‘How many eagles did you spot?’ I asked Talib.

  ‘Two, majesty.’

  Nergal was surprised. ‘Two eagles? You are certain you only detected two legions?’

  Talib nodded and the other scout concurred. I traced a route south on the map with my finger.

  ‘So where are the other ten legions?’

  A row of blank faces met my enquiry.

  ‘What does it matter?’ grinned Spadines. ‘Let us go and crush those we know about. Artavasdes is among them?’

  He looked at Spartacus’ scout behind him who nodded.

  ‘I saw his banner.’

  Spadines slapped Spartacus on the back.

  ‘Time to teach the Armenians a lesson, lord.’

  ‘It would be better to determine the whereabouts of the other Roman legions,’ I said, ‘in addition to ascertaining where Phraates is, if he still lives.’

  ‘It would be the sensible thing to do,’ agreed Gafarn.

  I looked at Spartacus. ‘Ten Roman legions cannot just disappear and my guess is they are close to the force our scouts detected.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Spadines.

  ‘Because it makes no sense for the Romans to split their force. It goes against the principles of war.’

  Spadines was clueless. ‘What are they?’

  ‘I too know about the principles of war, uncle,’ Spartacus said at last. ‘As we have only horsemen it makes sense to engage the enemy force we do know of. If the Romans we have no knowledge of appear, we can withdraw easily enough.’

  ‘Speed and surprise should be our weapons,’ stated Silaces. He pointed at the map. ‘If we swing around the north of the lake and hit them from behind we will increase our chances of success.’

  ‘Just stay clear of their legions,’ said Nergal, ‘there will be nothing to gain from assaulting squares of legionaries with locked shields.’

  ‘Agreed,’ I said. ‘Talib, how long is the enemy column?’

  ‘At least twenty miles, majesty,’ he answered, ‘perhaps more.’

  ‘In the morning I must ask you and your men to ride out again,’ I told him, ‘I want as much detailed information about our target as possible.’

  I rode back to Gallia and our soldiers with Talib, now almost asleep in the saddle. The next morning he rode from camp on a fresh mount with the rest of his men. I told Kewab to go with them to gather information on our foes. They rode south because I was convinced sixty thousand Romans must have already been approaching Irbil, the capital of Media. The rest of the army struck camp and moved northeast towards the north of Lake Urmia across an open terrain of grassland, hillocks and mountains in all directions. Horse archers formed the vanguard, the scouts of Spartacus a screen in front of them; more horse archers covered the flanks with the cataphracts in the centre and the squires bringing up the rear with the camels, packhorses and supplies.

  The day was bright and breezy, the banners and windsocks fluttering as we picked up the pace and neared the great lake, the smell of salt reaching our nostrils after an hour of hard riding. Spadines may have been a trusted ally of Spartacus but his five hundred or so horsemen presented a poor spectacle. They rode as a bunch of raiders with no discipline, their weapons a motley collection of bows, spears, axes and swords. Every one carried a round wooden shield and wore headgear of some sort ranging from leather caps and felt hats to iron helmets. A few wore leather cuirasses and some mail tunics they had probably stolen on some raid into Armenia.

  When we halted near the great shimmering lake, having ridden a good twenty miles or more, the animals were watered in the many streams running off the mountains and criss-crossing the plain while I had a quiet word with Spartacus about his Sarmatian friend. Rasha and her Vipers were with Gallia and the Amazons, both of them in high spirits at the prospect of both formations fighting together. As usual we corralled the squires, camels, spare mounts and packhorses in the centre of the army, horse archers creating a screen around the whole force. I found Spartacus watering his horse in a crystal clear stream around a mile from the lake.

  I came straight to the point. ‘Do you trust Spadines?’

  He stroked his horse’s neck.

  ‘He does not insult my wife, or me.’

  ‘You must let that go, Spartacus.’

  ‘Why? Would you ignore an insult to Gallia?’

  ‘I would like to think I would put the interests of the empire before my own.’

  He continued to stroke his horse.

  ‘Easy for you to say, the kings of the empire respect you whereas I am just the son of a dead slave whose adoptive parents were also once slaves. If I appear weak then the chances of me gaining respect diminish. If Phraates apologises to me then I will serve him.’

  ‘We all serve him, Spartacus, that is why we are here.’

  He looked at me. ‘I am here to safeguard Gordyene’s interests, and because my father and you requested my presence. But I will not be the slave of Phraates.’

  He mounted his horse. ‘I have a meeting with my commanders. Why did you send your scouts south?’

  ‘To discover where the main bulk of the Roman army is located.’

  He laughed. ‘Hopefully burning Irbil and after that Ctesiphon.’

  ‘You do not mean it, surely?’

  He nudged his horse away from the stream.

  ‘As I said, uncle, I am here to safeguard Gordyene. Nothing else.’

  Depressed I mounted Tegha and rode back to my troops. The surface of the lake was like a burnished breastplate as the sun reflected off its marble-smooth surface. Intrigued I decided to take a closer look at its glittering turquoise waters.

  I was suddenly alone, war and politics far away as Tegha walked to the lake’s edge fringed with salt crystals from evaporated water.

  ‘The Persians called the lake Chichast, meaning “glittering”, on account of the sparkling minerals in the water.’

  Tegha moved sideways in alarm and I drew my sword and looked around, to see a figure all in black a few paces away in the water.

  ‘A more appropriate word than Urmia, I think.’

  The voice was a woman’s but she had her back to me. She appeared to be looking down at the water though it was difficult to tell because she had a hood drawn over her head.

  ‘Who are you?’

  She bent down to dip a hand in the water.

  ‘They say the waters have healing qualities. Perhaps you should join me. It might cure you of your lack of manners. Are you going to kill a defenceless woman?’

  The sun was reflecting off the surface of the lake, causing me to squint making it difficult to focus on her. I slid my sword back into its scabbard.

  ‘Who are you?’ I demanded.

  ‘Who are you?’ she shot back.

  ‘Pacorus, King of Dura.’

  She continued to move her hand through the water.

  ‘You are a long way from home.’

  ‘Necessity has forced me to come here. Parthia is under threat from a great army.’

  ‘But you do not know where it is, do you?’

  She moved to the right and disappeared for a few seconds as the sun moved and created a dazzling light as it reflected off the surface of the lake.

  ‘It is at Phraaspa, son of Hatra, you waste your time sending your scouts south. Though they may run into the abject figure of Phraates on their travels.’

  I should have been astounded, frightened and awestruck but in truth relief swept through me.

  ‘I’ve missed you,’ I said.

  ‘You always were sentimental.’

  ‘How are you?’

  She laughed, but not mockingly. ‘I am dead. How do you think I am? But as you asked in good faith I will answer in the same manner. I am free of the world’s troubles, unlike you.’

  ‘Why Phraaspa?’

  ‘I have said enough, son of Hatra. Your real battle will be between the kings on your own side. Take care of Claudia.’

  ‘Claudia, why?’

  But there was a blinding flash and then she was gone. I looked around frantically but there was no sign of her, just the untroubled smooth surface of the lake stretching before me.

  Talib and Kewab returned with no news regarding the main Roman force but I told them it was at Phraaspa. I informed the kings and queens the same thing when the scouts of Spartacus returned with more definite news regarding the Armenians and the two Roman legions. It was dark and the lighting of campfires had been forbidden lest the enemy discover our presence, so everyone sat huddled in tents or wrapped in a blanket next to their sleeping camels. We also sat under a clear moonlit night outside Spartacus’ tent with cloaks around us. Without candlelight it would be pitch black inside and so we talked while a keen northerly whistled around us. Everyone assumed Talib and his men had detected the Romans at Phraaspa; only Gallia and I knew the truth that we kept to ourselves to avoid unnecessary arguments. Talib and Kewab were also present but I had forbidden them to contradict me about Phraaspa.

  ‘Did the enemy spot you?’ I asked the chief scout of Gordyene.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, majesty, they sent parties of horsemen after us but gave up after they had chased us away from the main force.’

  ‘What can you tell us of this main force?’ said Spartacus, seated on a stool like the rest of us, a blanket wrapped around him and Rasha,

  ‘It includes Armenian horsemen and foot soldiers and the great white banner we spotted would indicate the presence of Artavasdes himself.’

  ‘He must be protecting something important,’ said Kewab suddenly. ‘My apologies, I did not mean to interrupt.’

  ‘That is what you are here for,’ I told him.

  ‘What else?’ Spartacus said to his scout.

  ‘Hundreds of wagons, majesty, perhaps three or four hundred.’

  ‘For two legions?’ Kewab was astounded before apologising again.

  ‘How many wagons should there be?’ Gafarn asked him.

  ‘That’s just the point, majesty,’ said Kewab, ‘apart from a few carts pulled by oxen to carry the large catapults, everything else, including scorpions, is carried on the backs of mules.’

  ‘Your conclusion?’ I asked.

  The Egyptian puffed out his cheeks. ‘My estimate is it is a siege train with engines and pre-made assault towers disassembled for re-assembly at a later date.’

  ‘That would make sense,’ said Spartacus’ scout, ‘one of my men reported seeing what appeared to be a very long tree trunk topped with an iron head on an ox cart.’

  ‘A battering ram,’ concluded Kewab, ‘but it makes no sense for Mark Antony to have abandoned his siege engines and towers.’

  ‘It does if he was chasing a defeated enemy,’ I said. ‘If we assume the majority of Phraates’ army were horsemen, it would have been able to disengage from the Romans relatively easily. Mark Antony, a commander of horsemen, at least when I met him, would have pursued.’