When we reached the border with Pontus after sixteen days of marching, all hunting parties were withdrawn and the army was put on high alert. The terrain remained much the same, with densely wooded narrow valleys cutting through the Pontic Mountains. We expected the passes to be contested, but each day our scouts returned to report encountering only deserted mountain villages and an absence of humanity. Spadines told us the Pontic hill men, which we had encountered at Irbil, were cowards who preferred to run rather than face the might of Parthia, but I was not so sure. The hill men presumably knew every pass and track through the mountains intimately and could have launched dozens of small attacks on our stretched-out column, inflicting casualties and slowing down our rate of march to a crawl. But instead the only thing that delayed our progress was logistics: the process of getting thousands of foot soldiers, thousands of horsemen, thousands of mules and camels and dozens of carts through narrow valleys and along rocky tracks. The need to safeguard against ambush combined with severe congestion reduced our rate of advance to a maximum of five miles a day, resulting in an extra ten days of marching before we reached the interior of Pontus.

  It was a land of mountains, valleys, spectacular waterfalls, lakes and basins that the gods had sprinkled with small villages. It was summer now, but the temperatures were pleasant, with frequent rainfall and fog that rolled through the valleys at regular intervals like white celestial beings, alternately revealing and covering mountain peaks. It was a beautiful, enchanting land and the more I saw of it the more a sense of impending doom enveloped me, not least because not one Pontic soldier had showed himself since our arrival.

  ‘King Polemon will muster his army, such as it is, at Sinope, here on the coast.’

  Spartacus pointed a finger at a map on the table before us, at the city-port on the Black Sea coast. ‘He lost many men on the Diyana Plain last year, even though he himself was not present. Pontus does not have an inexhaustible reserve of men, uncle.’

  Spadines next to him was nodding like the obedient dog he was.

  ‘Prince,’ I asked him, ‘have your men reported any signs of enemy troop movements in this area?’

  He shook his head. ‘The terror of your name sends them fleeing, lord.’

  I caught Gafarn’s eye and he sighed.

  Spartacus was unconcerned. ‘We avoid the coastal strip and head straight for Sinope, there to force Polemon to give up those we wish to serve justice on.’

  ‘Just like that,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, uncle, just like that.’

  ‘What troubles you, Pacorus?’ asked Malik.

  ‘Thus far we have encountered no resistance, despite being in the enemy’s homeland. No ambushes, raids, no night-time attacks, nothing, despite traversing terrain ideally suited to ambush. That is what troubles me, my friend.’

  ‘Even if Polemon wanted to contest our advance,’ said Spartacus, ‘he would have scant forces to do so. He lost his best foot soldiers on the Diyana Plain, and Laodice’s hill men are all but worthless.’

  ‘He has a point, Pacorus,’ nodded Gafarn. ‘How long will it take to reach Sinope?’

  ‘Another ten days,’ answered his son.

  ‘We will be back in Gordyene in another twenty,’ said Spartacus. ‘We have sixty thousand soldiers, that is why Polemon has not dared to face us. He thinks he is safe behind the walls of his capital, but he is wrong. There are many villages around his capital, which we will destroy if he does not surrender the rebels.’

  Diana shuddered at the prospect but unless we backed up our threats with actions we would be a like a tiger whose fangs had been removed. I looked at Malik and Spadines, both of whom led warriors very adept at spreading death and destruction. We had the numbers, it was true, and it was also true that Pontus had lost thousands of men supporting Atrax’s abortive attempt to capture Media. But still…

  Spartacus beamed at Gallia.

  ‘And the omens for victory are excellent. After all, Sinope was established by the Amazons and named after their first queen, Sinope. It is surely no coincidence that your Amazons and my Vipers are about to march on the city named after the first queen of the Amazons.’

  I thought the connection was tenuous at best, for though Gallia was well acquainted with the mythical history of the Amazons, even she would find it hard to justify a campaign on the grounds she and her female warriors wanted to pay homage to the city of their first queen.

  ‘What a pity the city is not currently ruled by women,’ was her only comment.

  The Aorsi and Agraci provided a plundering vanguard as the army left the mountains and descended into gentle hills filled with evergreen trees and finally the area of great beauty and fertility that surrounded the city-port of Sinope itself. Polemon had obviously evacuated the entire population of the many villages that dotted the lush landscape, either to the city itself or to another stronghold, Trabzon, further east on the coastal strip. It was a rich land, more than capable of feeding our army and all its animals.

  As a massive camp was erected less than a mile from the gates of Sinope itself, our horsemen were sent out to pick clean the fruit trees and vineyards that littered the area. They returned with saddlebags bulging with apples, pears, figs, peaches, plums, apricots and cherries. The horsemen were under strict orders not to molest civilians or destroy their property, though the Sarmatians were under no such constraints and when Sporaces reported to me at the end of the first day of our siege of Sinope, he relayed stories of farms and villages burnt and many dead civilians. The lucky ones had either fled into the hills or sought sanctuary inside Polemon’s city.

  That night I slept fitfully. Dura’s army had always fought in defence of the Parthian Empire, but now it was part of an army of aggression waging war in a foreign land, a realm that was moreover a client kingdom of Rome. I feared our presence would lead to a cooling of relations between Octavian and Rome, which might even lead to an outbreak of hostilities between Parthia and Rome. This had always been at the back of my mind the moment we had crossed the border between Gordyene and Pontus. But in the morning my nagging doubts were pushed to the back of my mind due to fresh woes revealing themselves.

  Chapter 11

  Klietas was beaming from ear to ear, holding up the necklace so I and Gallia could see it. His chest was still bandaged, and his right arm was in a sling, but he still insisted on cleaning my weapons and armour and serving meals. It was a precarious exercise, both for him and us, wooden platters of food sometimes being spilt over the floor, and us! Still, his enthusiasm was infectious and whereas Gallia would normally have given him short shrift for such clumsiness, the fact he had saved my life meant he was something of a hero, making her more forgiving.

  ‘Haya gave it to me, highborn,’ he cooed.

  Forged by an armourer, it was a simple necklace holding one of the bear’s claws that had lacerated his chest. The chain was made from rings from mail armour and was rather blunt and unattractive. But that it had been gifted by his love made it the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. With one hand he tried the impossible task of putting it on. I stood.

  ‘Let me, don’t reopen your wounds.’

  He stood still as I fastened the necklace, Klietas smiling like an imbecile at Gallia.

  ‘Very fetching,’ she admitted.

  ‘Haya gave it to me, highborn,’ he said a second time.

  She indulged him. ‘I’m sure she is very fond of you.

  ‘Go and report to Sophus,’ I told him, ‘so he can put a fresh dressing on your wounds.’

  He bowed, ‘Yes, highborn.’

  He passed Kewab and Lucius on the way out of the tent, both wearing scowls of concern.

  ‘Have we become the besieged?’ I joked, failing to elicit a smile from either.

  ‘We wish to show you something, majesty,’ said Kewab.

  ‘It will affect our conduct of the siege,’ added Lucius, ‘and ultimately the outcome of the whole campaign.’

  Half an hour later I and Gallia were sitting on our horses some half a mile east of Sinope, the sun glinting off a blue Black Sea, a pleasing breeze blowing into our faces. That was the only pleasing thing that morning.

  ‘We captured a merchant yesterday,’ Kewab informed us, ‘a man who does much trading inside Sinope. He owns a large vineyard further up the coast and sells wine to nobles inside the city, or at least he did.’

  I shuddered. ‘You have executed him?’

  Kewab was shocked. ‘No, majesty, but his vineyard was wrecked by a large party of Aorsi. A patrol of my horsemen saved him from being nailed to one of his vine trees.’

  ‘Animals,’ spat Gallia.

  ‘After interrogation, he was allowed to leave by sail boat,’ Kewab continued, ‘but what he divulged was very interesting.’

  He pointed at the peninsula jutting into the sea, on which Sinope had been built.

  ‘The peninsula is two miles in length and a mile wide at its broadest point. It has its own water supply, as well as being endowed with two ports. There is one on the eastern side and one on the western side. You can see the sails of the boats in the harbour, majesties. This means the city can be supplied with ease by merchant ships.’

  Lucius continued the tale of woe. ‘The landward wall of the city, the one we would have to breach if we launched an attack, is strongly fortified and bristles with arrow ports. In addition, because we are unable to enforce a sea blockade of the city, King Polemon is free to land soldiers both up and down the coast.

  ‘This means we will have to establish both outer and inner siege works if we are to prevent any force being landed on the coast interfering with our own forces.’

  I shook my head at Gallia, who raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement.

  ‘So we cannot starve the city into submission, we have no engines with which to batter down or scale the walls, and the garrison can be supplied with food and fresh troops without interruption.’

  They both nodded.

  ‘Suggestions?’ I asked.

  Kewab turned away from the sea to gaze at the tree-covered hills behind us.

  ‘We could construct boats to raid the harbours and burn all the shipping therein, as there is an abundance of wood in the area.’

  ‘And level every settlement in the area within a radius of fifty miles,’ added Lucius.

  ‘A very Roman tactic,’ said Gallia, clearly unimpressed.

  ‘With no siege engines, majesty, it will almost impossible to take the city,’ he told her.

  ‘Not without heavy losses,’ admitted Kewab. ‘If I may be frank, majesty.’

  ‘Be my guest,’ I told him.

  ‘The first half of this campaign has been masterful, resulting as it has in the defeat and humiliation of the Armenians at very little cost, at least in the short term. But to march into this kingdom without the means of capturing the objective and having no desire to conquer Pontus, is frankly folly.’

  ‘Perhaps you should tell King Spartacus that,’ said Gallia.

  Kewab gazed back at the city surrounded by a shimmering sea.

  ‘There is no guarantee the renegades we seek to capture are even in Sinope. They could have left at any time, or if they are still in the city, they could still be evacuated with ease. We do not even know if King Polemon is in the city.’

  ‘I would suggest that a policy of destruction will make Polemon more amenable to enter into discussions to bring about the resolution we desire,’ said Lucius.

  ‘No,’ I replied firmly, ‘I will not wreak destruction on a kingdom and condemn innocent civilians to starvation, which is what will happen if we destroy their homes, farms, fields, orchards and vineyards.’

  ‘Then we will fail,’ stated Lucius flatly.

  Our horsemen ranged far and wide, collecting supplies and keeping watch for any enemy forces. But though they sometimes came upon small groups of hill men, who were easily dealt with, they encountered mostly a deserted land. The heralds sent to the city walls to request a parley with King Polemon met with no answer and on the third day of our ‘siege’, I called a meeting to discuss our strategy.

  We feasted on venison and boar shot that morning, apricots and apples plundered from a nearby orchard and wine taken from villas whose owners had fled. Spartacus brought Castus and Haytham, both having led raiding parties of King’s Guard earlier. They were in high spirits, the enemy having seemingly melted away to leave them free to ride far and wide and indulge their every whim. Before they got too drunk, I informed their father, Gafarn, Diana and Malik of the opinions of Kewab and Lucius regarding our visit to Pontus.

  Spartacus finished picking clean a boar rib and tossed the bone on his platter.

  ‘When Polemon sees his kingdom burning from his palace, he will be willing to enter into negotiations.’

  ‘He has shown little inclination to do so thus far,’ remarked Gafarn, smiling at the excellent wine he was drinking.

  ‘Have we become murderers and bandits?’ asked a shocked Diana.

  ‘Hostages,’ said Castus.

  We all looked at him in expectation. He drank his wine greedily.

  ‘Send horsemen far into the west and east, round up anyone they come across, bring them back here and line them up before the walls of Sinope.’

  ‘Line them up?’ asked a confused Haytham.

  ‘On crosses, like the Romans do,’ said his brother, bursting into laughter.

  Diana’s jaw dropped in horror.

  ‘Hatra will have no part in such barbarity.’

  ‘Neither will Dura,’ I confirmed.

  Castus looked at the austere Malik.

  ‘Uncle, surely it is the Agraci way to exact vengeance on your enemies.’

  Malik nodded slowly. ‘Vengeance, yes, but what you desire is to spill blood for its own sake, Castus, to drench your sword in the blood of innocents. In doing so, you become like the ones you seek to serve justice on.’

  Castus was deflated by Malik’s sage words and Haytham sank into silence. Their father was not to be deterred, though.

  ‘Before we begin weeping over the wrongs committed against King Polemon, let us remember he was part of the army led by Mark Antony that invaded Parthia ten years ago, and his soldiers formed the backbone of the rebel army of Prince Atrax. Pontus has a lot to answer for.’

  His sons murmured their agreement.

  ‘You are right, Spartacus,’ I admitted, ‘but that does not assist us in the slightest. I have no desire to spend weeks or months in this land, nor do I have any appetite for wanton destruction or wholesale murder.’

  ‘Pacorus speaks for Hatra in this,’ said Gafarn. ‘Before we condemn Polemon outright, remember he is in the unenviable position of being a Roman client king.’

  ‘Roman puppet, you mean,’ sneered Gallia.

  Gafarn nodded. ‘And Phraates’ puppet also, for let us not forget it was our esteemed high king who encouraged Atrax to try to seize the crown of Media, thus creating a sequence of events leading to King Polemon offering his soldiers to Atrax, paid for by Octavian.’

  Spartacus bit into an apricot. ‘Tomorrow, we change the tone of our requests for a meeting with Polemon, informing him we will turn his kingdom into a desert if he does not speak with us.’

  He took another bite of apricot.

  ‘He does not know that Hatra and Dura do no not have the stomach for it.’

  ‘I will give you a month, Spartacus,’ I told him, ‘after which Dura’s army will be marching back to Parthia. But I expect Polemon to meet us before then, if only to save his honour, his kingdom from destruction and his people from starvation.’

  Castus and Haytham spent the rest of the meal sulking and making derogatory comments about Klietas and his arm in a sling, until I told them to desist. Spartacus chastised his sons for their boorish behaviour, which darkened their mood further. Their father was in an altogether more agreeable mood, having acquired a taste for being a conqueror. He was more like the Romans than he thought in that respect. Malik kept his counsel but was happy to engage Gafarn and Diana in conversation, about Rasha, his father and how all three had been outsiders in Parthia and probably always would be, notwithstanding their many labours in defence of the empire.

  ‘Of all of us,’ he reflected, ‘only Pacorus is accorded respect, because he comes from a great and noble family resident in a famous city.’

  I gestured at all of them seated at the table.

  ‘All of us are accorded respect in the empire, not least for what we have done for that empire.’

  Malik stared into his cup of wine.

  ‘In your kingdom, where men are judged purely on merit, that is the case, Pacorus. But since you and my father made peace I have travelled to many parts of Parthia, rubbed shoulders with many nobles and kings, and seen the looks of horror on the faces of their fine ladies when they see the tattoos on my face. Old fears and prejudices take generations to die, my friend, if they die at all.

  ‘I look around this table and see the faces of friends, blood brothers and sisters whose origins are irrelevant. But we and what we have created is an aberration, an exception.’

  ‘Times change, and people change, my friend,’ I argued. ‘As a young boy, if someone had told me an Agraci woman would be Parthian queen, I would have laughed in his face. And yet did not Rasha become Queen of Gordyene? Did not her son, half-Agraci, half-Thracian, become King of Media?’

  Malik shrugged his shoulders. ‘Perhaps you are right.’

  ‘But Akmon and Lusin can never rest easy while Atrax still walks the earth,’ warned Gallia. ‘Whatever happens in Pontus, Atrax must die, and sooner rather than later.’

  Spartacus raised his cup. ‘Well said, aunt.’

  Not long after our guests had departed, Klietas busying himself clearing up the cups and platters one-handed, Chrestus appeared, removing his helmet and saluting. I offered him wine, but he refused.

  ‘There’s a man outside, majesty, turned up at the northern entrance to the camp saying he has a massage for you, from King Polemon.’

  I looked at Gallia.