‘All will be settled. We are done here. All of you will move your men aside to allow us to pass.’

  He told his officers to hold their tongues, turned his horse and returned to his army, swinging in the saddle as we too withdrew.

  ‘High King Phraates will hear of this.’

  ‘Of that I have no doubt,’ I replied.

  So it was that two armies passed each other in a barren plain in southern Sakastan, testimony to the divisions infecting Parthia even as foreign invaders ran amok within it. The horsemen of Carmania were splendid troops. The dragon of cataphracts all wore scale armour and open-face helmets, though unlike my own their horses wore only half-armour covering their bodies but not their heads or necks. The five thousand mounted spearmen wore leather cuirasses, helmets and carried large, round wooden shields painted red with a yellow peacock motif. Their primary weapon was a long lance with a sword as secondary weapon. The ten thousand horse archers wore no armour or head protection, though would provide formidable missile power on the battlefield.

  If Phanes’ horsemen were an imposing force his foot soldiers left a lot to be desired. The best were the two thousand élite foot archers armed with a recurve bow, spear, shield and sword and protected by scale armour cuirasses and helmet with a mail veil. Their spears and shields meant they could defend themselves against enemy horse and foot, while their bows gave them formidable missile power. As did the primary weapon of the two thousand slingers that marched with Phanes. But it was his twenty thousand levy spearmen that was the weak link in the chain. Recruited from villagers and townsmen, they had little training or motivation and their weapons comprised a spear and knife. With no helmet or armour, their only protection was a crude wicker shield. I had little confidence any would return to Carmania.

  Chapter 9

  The mood of the column was subdued as we headed west to Bam, knowing in our hearts that we should have joined with Phanes to both relieve Sigal and defeat the Kushans. But his arrogance had made cooperation impossible and having already been roughly handled by Kujula’s soldiers, none of us had a burning desire to repeat the experience alongside an unreliable ‘ally’. So we maintained a hard pace and reached Sakastan’s second city in two days. I comforted myself with the knowledge that Phanes’ approach would force the Kushans to either break off the investment of Sigal or weaken the siege lines to give battle. Then I was cast into despair with the thought that if the siege was lifted Phanes would be in control of Sigal and might arrest Salar, to say nothing of our wives.

  Gafarn put my mind at rest. ‘If you really believe Phanes can defeat Kujula on his own you are suffering from sunstroke. But he is a useful idiot in that he will turn the attention of the Kushans away from Sigal, albeit only for a while.’

  ‘The useful idiot Phanes will buy us time, uncle,’ Spartacus assured me.

  I turned to give him a reproachful look. ‘You must be more diplomatic when dealing with other kings.’

  He was unimpressed. ‘Why? Do they respect me? No. They call me the son of a slave behind my back and now to my face, so why should I treat them with respect?’

  I sighed. ‘Do you think those same kings say kind words about me behind my back? Or your father? They do not. But my reply to you is that you too mock them.’

  ‘You have just called Phanes an idiot,’ Gafarn reminded Spartacus.

  ‘That is not an insult,’ said Malik, ‘more an accurate assessment.’

  He and Spartacus burst into laughter, much to the embarrassment of Prince Pacorus. His brother noticed his squirming and jerked a thumb at him.

  ‘You will never hear my brother utter a bad word about the other kings of the empire, even Darius of Media, may serpents gorge on his entrails.’

  ‘Media is our ally,’ insisted Pacorus.

  ‘You see, my brother is the perfect Parthian prince,’ grinned Spartacus, ‘one day he will sit on Ctesiphon’s throne.’

  ‘You should not wish such a thing on your brother,’ I jested, ‘besides, hopefully Phraates will enjoy a long reign.’

  ‘Not if the Kushans overrun half his empire,’ said Malik, ‘men do not respect or tolerate weak leaders.’

  ‘That is why we are mustering at Bam, my friend,’ I said, ‘to fight for the continued existence of the empire.’

  I pulled up Tegha , causing the others to halt. Gafarn frowned.

  ‘Is your horse lame?’

  I looked at Malik. ‘My friend, we have no right to ask you or your men to fight for an empire in which many of the inhabitants despise the Agraci. I apologise for embroiling you in this lamentable situation.’

  Malik, fierce looking with his black face tattoos, was impassive.

  ‘You are my friends; my sister is married to King Spartacus and is trapped in Sigal with your wives and daughters. This is not about Parthia; this is personal.’

  ‘You are a man of honour, lord king,’ said Prince Pacorus.

  Malik looked bemused and Spartacus rolled his eyes but Gafarn agreed.

  ‘Such men are sadly lacking in these turbulent times.’

  Before we had seen Bam, Talib brought us news that boosted our spirits.

  ‘A Caspian Tiger banner hangs from the citadel’s gates, majesty.’

  ‘Khosrou is in the city?’

  He nodded. ‘And thousands of his men are camped outside Bam’s walls.’

  I had a broad grin on my face as we rode the last twenty miles to the city, to see a tent city adjacent to the one of mud-brick walls and buildings. I thanked Shamash that he had sent the King of Margiana. Khosrou, the iron-hard ruler of the kingdom that held the barbarians of the northern steppes at bay. He was now in his late sixties and his hair, beard and thin moustache were white as snow. His flat face resembled an old saddlebag but his dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief when Rogerio ushered us into the old king’s presence.

  Khosrou gave me a bear hug that threatened to crack my ribs.

  ‘It warms my heart to see you, lord, though my ribcage begs you to release me.’

  ‘Ha,’ exclaimed Khosrou, ‘you are getting soft in your old age, Pacorus. Where’s that pretty wife of yours?’

  ‘In Sigal, lord.’

  He stepped back, surprised. ‘You left Gallia in a besieged city?’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ I said.

  ‘Well let’s hear it,’ roared Khosrou. ‘Bring wine,’ he instructed Rogerio.

  The fat governor, unused to being treated like a servant, smiled and hesitated but did as he was told when the stern visage of Khosrou rounded on him.

  ‘Idle fat bastard,’ he said loudly as Rogerio was leaving, ‘about as much use as a eunuch at an orgy. So, let’s hear this woeful tale.’

  We sat on plush couches in the governor’s audience chamber and relayed the story of how we had travelled to Sakastan to attend the wedding of Salar and Isabella and how a day of happiness had turned rapidly into one of horror, quickly followed by the coalition against Sakastan, which was overwhelmed by the Kushan invasion that overran Aria and Drangiana and threatened Sakastan and Carmania. Khosrou drank wine, nodded, examined us all and told Rogerio to order more wine as he told us the news from the rest of the empire.

  ‘Phraates has put his faith in Phanes to defeat the Kushans and restore order in his eastern kingdoms. Apparently, he is also gathering an army to march to our aid.’ Khosrou belched. ‘Not that I believe him.’

  ‘How is it that you are here, lord?’ enquired Prince Pacorus.

  ‘I was wondering that,’ I added.

  ‘The ambassadors of Aria and Drangiana have shown more backbone than their kings,’ Khosrou told us. ‘As soon as their rulers were defeated they took it upon themselves to visit the courts of anyone who would listen to them, bleating like despoiled virgins that Parthia must respond quickly to throw our friend Kujula back across the Indus. Anauon and Yueh-Chih are currently mobilising and will strike south when they have done so.’

  ‘Heartening news,’ said Gafarn.

  ‘And King Phanes is marching from the south to relieve Sigal,’ said Spartacus, ‘so perhaps the Kushans will be caught between a hammer and an anvil.’

  Khosrou belched again. ‘This wine is gut-rot. I commend your faith in human nature but even if the hammer and anvil succeed, and it is a big if, I doubt it will dislodge Kujula from Parthia.’

  I took a sip of wine. It was indeed second-rate. Clearly Rogerio was denying Khosrou his finest vintage.

  ‘You still have not revealed why you came to Bam,’ I said.

  ‘I ordered my two sons to guard the northern frontier,’ Khosrou told us, ‘and left them to march at the head of ten thousand men to reinforce poor old King Cinnamus of Anauon. His kingdom has been at peace for so long that he barely has an army.’

  He looked at Gafarn. ‘One reason I don’t hold out much hope for the great northern alliance. Anyway, while at his capital we received news from Salar’s general that King Pacorus was leading an army to Bam to organise a relief column and had sent out a general plea for help. So here I am. How many men are with you.’

  ‘Ten and a half thousand,’ I answered.

  ‘Silaces is on his way?’

  I nodded.

  Khosrou ran a finger around the lip of his silver cup. He looked at Spartacus and Malik.

  ‘It will take more than a battle and the relief of Sigal to remove the Kushans from Parthia. If we give them time they will fortify the towns they have taken, and then it will be all but impossible to prise them out of the empire.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ I asked.

  ‘We split our forces. When Silaces arrives, he can join with your heavy horsemen and ride to the relief of Sigal. Meanwhile, we will strike east into the Kushan Empire and burn every hovel we come across. That should get Kujula’s attention.’

  ‘We?’ I asked.

  Khosrou nodded at Malik. ‘I would esteem it an honour, my lord, if you and your warriors would accompany my own. Pacorus will come with me, of course, so he can learn what real war is.’ He pointed at Spartacus. ‘You too, young pup.’

  The ‘young pup’ was now in his mid-thirties but Spartacus was delighted to be invited to ride beside the legendary King of Margiana so just smiled contentedly.

  Gafarn frowned. ‘You have omitted me, lord king.’

  ‘Hatra’s Royal Bodyguard goes where its king goes,’ said Khosrou, ‘and so must remain with the relief force, as must your cataphracts, Gafarn. On our mission we travel light and at speed.’

  Gafarn seemed satisfied by the answer, which made perfect sense. Clearly Khosrou had been giving the matter much thought, though my namesake was far from pacified.

  ‘How will burning villages and murdering innocents save Parthia?’ queried Prince Pacorus.

  Khosrou regarded the hero of Hatra for a few seconds, the grizzled old warrior who had held the northern barbarians at bay for over forty years twisting his thin lips into a half-smile. Pacorus, resembling a Greek god in looks and a priest in morals, did not quite know what to make of the fearsome ruler of Margiana in his shabby leggings and stained tunic.

  ‘Not all war is glory and fame, boy,’ Khosrou told him. ‘We all heard how you covered yourself in glory against the Romans in the north. Before I answer your question, how would you defeat the Kushans?’

  Pacorus remained stony faced. ‘We defeat Kujula in battle and he will slink back across the Indus.’

  ‘Just like that.’

  ‘Just like that,’ said Pacorus forcefully.

  Khosrou took a great gulp of wine. ‘No, he won’t. He will retreat north into Aria or Drangiana where he will entrench himself and order more men to be sent from his homeland. Do you know much about Drangiana, young prince?’

  ‘Aside from the fact that it is ruled by King Antiochus, I must confess that my knowledge of his kingdom is wanting,’ came the honest reply.

  ‘Allow me to enlighten you,’ said Khosrou. ‘Aside from mountains Drangiana is also rich in tin, which means Kujula is now rich in tin, which he can sell to finance his campaign. It also means he will be very reluctant to surrender what he has won. That is why we must give him an incentive to return home.’

  ‘If we defeat and kill him then the Kushans will return home,’ offered Pacorus.

  Khosrou was impressed. ‘Perhaps they will. Or perhaps another leader will take Kujula’s place and seek to expand the territory he has won. I’m afraid my knowledge of the Kushan Empire is even worse that your knowledge of Drangiana.’

  He pointed a finger at the prince. ‘Why did you defeat the Romans?’

  ‘Because they failed to capture Phraaspa,’ came the reply.

  Khosrou smashed his fist into his palm. ‘Exactly. But the Kushans have already taken the capitals of Aria and Drangiana, so they already have strong bases from which to operate. Did you bring your siege engines, Pacorus?’

  ‘I came to attend a wedding, not conduct a siege,’ I told him.

  ‘The sad fact is,’ said Khosrou, ‘that Dura has the only siege engines in the Parthian Empire, so retaking the cities the Kushans have captured will prove time-consuming. And time is a commodity we do not have.’

  ‘So we raid, kill and burn,’ smiled Malik.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ stated Spartacus with relish.

  Khosrou was delighted and emptied his cup. He was now slightly drunk and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. He put down the cup and rubbed his hands.

  ‘Every cloud has a silver lining. After we have ejected the Kushans from the empire, there might be an opportunity to return the favour and seize some of Kujula’s territory. Planning on staying in the east awhile, Pacorus?’

  ‘Not really,’ I told him.

  There was a knock at the door and a beaming Rogerio entered, followed by slaves carrying full wine jugs. Khosrou held up his cup to be refilled and the fat governor bowed to me, proffering a silver tray, upon which was a tiny piece of rolled papyrus.

  ‘For you, majesty. It has just arrived attached to a courier pigeon.’

  I took the note and unwrapped it, recognising Claudia’s writing, albeit small. Without thinking I read the words out loud.

  ‘Sigal safe, Kushans in turmoil, Nergal well.’

  ‘Extraordinary,’ said Gafarn.

  Spartacus slapped his brother on the back and Malik nodded at me.

  ‘How is it that a courier pigeon can fly unharmed through mountains full of eagles, vultures and hawks?’ asked Khosrou.

  ‘Princess Claudia has special talents,’ said Spartacus, ‘she was trained by the sorceress Dobbai. She speaks to the dead, is that not true, uncle?’

  I shrugged. ‘I think your imagination is running away with you, nephew. But it is cheering to receive news that our family members are safe.’

  ‘I remember Dobbai, saw her a few times at the court of Sinatruces,’ reminisced Khosrou. ‘Now he was a good king of kings. Liked to kill first and ask questions later.’

  ‘So we are agreed on our strategy, then?’ I asked.

  ‘When do we leave?’ said Spartacus with relish.

  Khosrou held up his cup again. ‘As soon as we have emptied the governor’s wine cellars.’

  We did not empty the royal wine cellar, though we did strip his armouries of arrows to replace the ones we had left behind in Sigal. I was worried that without a camel train carrying ammunition we would still be deficient in missile power, but Khosrou assured me we were not going to fight any battles against the Kushans. Rather burn, pillage and run. We would also be living off the land, thus reducing the amount of supplies we would be taking with us.

  While we waited for Silaces I was invited to Khosrou’s camp, the king eager for me to meet ‘an old friend’. Intrigued. I left Rogerio and his irksome enquiries as to when the great number of men, horses and camels would be leaving Bam and rode to the Margianan camp. It was a great sprawling collection of tents and horses. I say horses but the beasts Khosrou’s warriors rode were more like ponies with their short necks, short legs and stolid bodies. A casual observer would have derided such beasts that came in all variations of colours and were an alien species when compared to the thoroughbreds of Hatra and Dura. But such observations would be wrong. The ponies of the great steppes were sturdy, fearless and able to withstand extremes of temperatures.

  The soldiers of Margiana presented a ragtag appearance but that too was deceptive. As I rode Tegha through their camp I saw men grooming horses dressed in kaftan-like coats with one breast crossed over the other and tied in place. They had long sleeves that could double up as hand warmers in winter, though because it was high summer they were rolled up. Some men were bare chested as they tipped fodder into wooden eating troughs. I had ridden from the city with an escort of horse archers, immaculate in their ankle boots, tan leggings and white tunics. At Khosrou’s tent things were more formal, guards halting us before we got within a hundred paces of the king’s residence where we dismounted before I was escorted to the royal tent. In front of the entrance was a flagpole from which flew the king’s Caspian Tiger banner. Inside were two individuals: Khosrou and a wiry man with a squashed nose and narrow eyes that looked like a helmet’s vision slits. I smiled when I remembered an old friend.

  ‘Kuban, this is an unexpected pleasure.’

  He snapped his head forward in a bow. ‘Majesty. You look well.’

  ‘I look and feel old,’ I told him, ‘but it warms my heart to see you.’

  ‘General Kuban, here, insisted on joining me,’ said Khosrou, ‘though was disappointed to learn that you left Gallia at Sigal.’

  ‘She is a great queen and warrior,’ said Kuban admiringly. ‘We will make the Kushans pay for what they have done.’

  His black eyes reminded me of the king cobra I had tussled with not so long ago and sent a shiver down my spine. As well as a warrior, I remembered Kuban being an accomplished torturer, which made me realise the campaign I was about to take part in would be very different from the ones I had previously fought in.

  Silaces arrived four days after the message from Claudia, which in truth had reduced the nervous tension in the city and allowed us all to focus on the task in hand. Khosrou and Kuban were full of admiration that we had left our women behind in a besieged city, with the latter promising to carve a swathe of destruction in the Kushan lands in retaliation when we arrived in Kujula’s territory. For his part, the King of Elymais arrived at Bam at the head of ten thousand horse archers and spitting blood.