I smiled at my sister. ‘In truth I am waiting for the arrival of Prince Alexander and his army before launching an attack on the enemy. Any lord high general would want to wait for twenty thousand good soldiers.’

  Aliyeh was going to answer back but she sensed those around her felt I had made a good point. Besides, if she pressed for an immediate attack she would be indirectly demeaning the contribution of Prince Alexander, her own son, and his army. She so wanted to spit more bile at me but I had her in a trap. She gave me the merest hint of a sneer and turned to Phraates.

  ‘The decision, as ever, is yours, great king.’

  Everyone looked at Phraates. ‘We have every confidence in the strategy of our lord high general. What will be our next move?’

  ‘The Romans will try to dislodge us from the hill forest but they will fail. We shall also attack their foraging parties they will send out in response to their food supplies running low, for just as we have to eat so do the Romans, and the land around Phraaspa is barren. Of course your majesty could bring hostilities to an end more quickly if you wished to.’

  ‘How?’ asked Phraates.

  ‘By asking the Romans to withdraw back to Armenia.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ said Ashleen. ‘You ask the high king of the empire to beg the enemy to retreat after they have invaded his lands?’

  There were angry mutterings around me accompanied by hateful stares in my direction. I ignored them.

  ‘The gods demand vengeance,’ boomed Timo.

  ‘Silence,’ ordered Phraates.

  He regarded me for a moment, turning the wretched gold arrow in his hand.

  ‘And if I request the enemy to leave Parthia will they surrender their eagles?’

  ‘No, majesty.’

  ‘Then we will make no such offer.’

  He rose from the gold- and jewel-encrusted throne and left the pavilion’s audience chamber to retire to his private quarters behind the throne. Half a dozen Babylonian guards in dragon-skin armour armed with swords and short spears followed. Timo and Ashleen also accompanied him, as did my sister. It was an obvious display of the power behind the throne.

  The rest of us left the chamber, some to retire to the smaller tents surrounding the pavilion and linked to it by cloth corridors. The walls were decorated with expensive draperies and fine linens and the wooden floors were covered with crimson and purple rugs interwoven with gold and silver. The pavilion was a place of beauty, grace and politics and I was glad to leave it.

  Sporaces, cold, wet, his leggings splattered with mud, warmed his hands on the brazier in my tent.

  ‘We caught a score of them on the other side of the river to the south. None escaped.’

  I passed him a cup of warm milk. Outside the patter of raindrops on the tent’s roof became louder.

  ‘The river is many miles from the Roman camp,’ said Gallia.

  Sporaces nodded. ‘They must be getting desperate to send foraging parties such a distance.’

  ‘How are the men’s spirits?’ I asked.

  ‘They are fine, though they will be grumbling more if we have to spend the winter here. It’s not Dura, that’s for sure.’

  He was right. Dura had never seen snow and already the high peaks of the mountains were topped with white. Soon the sleet and snow would be in the plains. There was dense fog most mornings and the wind dispersing it invariably came from the north and chilled men to the bone. At least the soldiers of Dura, Gordyene, Elymais, Hatra and Mesene had brought winter clothing.

  ‘The gods know how Talib and his men are surviving in this cold,’ said Sporaces.

  ‘They are Agraci,’ Gallia told him, ‘they will suffer less than most.’

  We rarely saw my chief scout and his men, though we did receive frequent reports from our horse archer patrols infesting the land around Phraaspa. For the first few days after we had arrived the Romans were very aggressive in their response, sending combined parties of horsemen and legionaries against us. But in turn horse archers hanging on their flanks harassed these parties. Mark Antony did launch a substantial assault on the forest we had occupied with half a legion, supported by foot archers and slingers. But Spartacus had moved all his men into the hillside trees and the legionaries could not evict the troops of Gordyene from the trees. When Silaces led his horse archers against the Romans’ right flank they gave up and returned to camp. Mark Antony never made another attempt to evict Spartacus and his men from the forest. Meanwhile the various detachments from Mesene, Elymais, Dura and Hatra returned to their camps.

  ‘Azad is chafing at the bit,’ said Sporaces, ‘he and his men want to test themselves against the Roman horsemen. And he’s not alone.’

  I gestured for him to take a seat and share some food with us.

  ‘Oh? Who else is straining at the leash?’

  ‘I spoke out of turn.’

  ‘Sporaces,’ I said, ‘we are all friends here and anything you say will be held in strict confidence.’

  ‘Prince Pacorus of Hatra for one,’ he informed us, ‘and they have both been liaising with Prince Ali.’

  ‘Three and a half thousand cataphracts charging the Romans would be a magnificent sight,’ said Gallia admiringly. ‘Far better than sitting on our backsides doing nothing.’

  Sporaces smiled but I sighed.

  ‘We have the Romans just where we want them,’ I told them both, ‘and I won’t risk jeopardising that so the cataphracts can sate their honour and wash their lances in enemy blood.’

  ‘However noble it may be,’ added Gallia.

  ‘The Romans will soon abandon their siege and then, and only then, and only if the circumstances are right, will our heavy horsemen be unleashed,’ I stated.

  ‘Let us hope they do so before Prince Alexander and the glorious army of Persis arrive,’ said Sporaces.

  ‘I pray the gods may grant me that mercy at least,’ I admitted.

  I knew the majority of Alexander’s men were marching on foot and so would take longer than if they had all been mounted. I was also gambling that because Aliyeh’s son was both pampered and spoilt he would not exert himself to reach Phraaspa. Every day he and his men were absent brought my plan closer to fruition.

  ‘The Romans besiege Phraaspa and we besiege the Romans,’ said Gallia, the sides of the tent buffeted by a strong wind as well as rain.

  ‘We hold a ring around them,’ I said, ‘so they will more speedily use up their food, which will force them to retire.’

  ‘Or fight,’ offered Sporaces.

  ‘They will retreat,’ I stated, ‘for I will give no battle.’

  Gallia was confused. ‘You just said you would unleash our heavy horsemen.’

  ‘When the time is right,’ I replied, ‘as I said.’

  I had to confess I was, notwithstanding the presence of Phraates and his itinerant court, most satisfied by the course of events thus far. Spartacus and his troops held the area to the north of Phraaspa, on the slopes of the forest-covered mountain. To the southwest lay the camp of the eight thousand soldiers of Elymais, Silaces maintaining close contact with his friend Spartacus. To the immediate south of Silaces was King Aschek, his son Ali and their thirteen thousand soldiers. Next in the Parthian circle surrounding the Romans were Gafarn’s nine thousand Hatrans, to their left Nergal and Praxima and the horse archers of Mesene. My men were pitched to the west of Phraaspa, leaving a small gap between our encampment and the base of the mountain, through which I hoped Mark Antony would lead his men back to Armenia. When the time came.

  King of Kings Phraates, his army of courtiers, slaves, priests and administrators, plus his other army of sixteen and a half thousand soldiers, was located ten miles west of Aschek’s camp. The tents of the King of Atropaiene, like those of Gordyene, Elymais, Hatra, Mesene and Dura, were pitched at a distance of ten miles from the Roman siege lines. Close enough to harass the enemy but far enough away to prevent the Romans mounting a surprise attack. Between the Parthian camps, which were widely spaced, and the Roman lines were screens of horse archers acting as our eyes and ears, as well as Talib and his men.

  The weather continued to worsen, the cold wind increasing in intensity, most days lacing the air with stinging rain. It did not last for long but long enough to chill and wet everyone. The Romans gave up trying to occupy the forest and no longer sent out foraging parties following the destruction of the earlier ones. We were gradually tightening the noose around them. Soon their leader would have to either withdraw or give battle. But if Mark Antony fought us and prevailed he would still have no winter base for his army.

  If Phraaspa held out.

  ‘I do not command, I ask.’

  Talib resembled a hooded assassin in the poor oil lamp light in my tent, the lamp hanging from one of the centre poles gently rocking as the wind buffeted my temporary home. He was wrapped in a thick woollen cloak, the hood still drawn over his head and a thick woollen scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face.

  ‘Sit, please.’

  Gallia had yet to return from a combined patrol with the Amazons and Vipers, which was in truth more of an attempt to lure Roman horsemen from their camp so they could be mauled by arrows. But the enemy had learned the hard way not to tangle with our horse archers so I suspected the patrol would come to nought. Claudia for her part was in the Elymais camp with her intended, the doughty Alaric acting as her guardian, much to her annoyance, his amusement and my satisfaction.

  Talib removed the hood and scarf and flopped down in the chair. I poured him a cup of wine.

  ‘I need someone to get into Phraaspa, speak to Prince Darius to ascertain the state of the garrison and his food supplies and get out again to report back to me.’

  He took a swig of wine. ‘The Roman siege lines are porous, majesty, but getting into the city will be more difficult. I will go.’

  I beamed with delight. ‘If it becomes too dangerous withdraw immediately. I do not wish to lose my chief scout.’

  ‘Today I was in the Roman camp.’

  I nearly choked on my wine. ‘You were? What did you learn?’

  ‘There are many Syrian auxiliaries among the legionaries so it was easy to infiltrate their lines,’ he told me. ‘But all hate this cold and complain to all who will listen about their inadequate rations and inactivity. Their camp is like ours. Muddy and windswept.’

  ‘But at least we have a supply of firewood,’ I said.

  Spartacus had been sending deliveries of wood supplied by the trees his men were felling in the forest, which though freshly cut and prone to producing much smoke when burnt at least kept us warm. I wondered how much the Romans still possessed?

  ‘One more thing,’ I said, ‘be careful if and when you enter Phraaspa. Say you are Syrian rather than Agraci.’

  ‘Why, majesty?’

  I reminded him about Phraates’ ‘Parthian purity’ policy. Prince Darius had been an enthusiastic endorser of his directive. It would be a tragedy if Talib ghosted his way into the city only to be hanged from its walls.

  ‘Tell him you were sent by King of Kings Phraates and his mother. He will like that.’

  ‘If he still lives, majesty. Pestilence may have spread through the city.’

  I discounted the idea. ‘Unlike most cities Phraaspa’s population is small for its size so there would have been room for the prince’s army to pitch its tents and stable its horses without overcrowding the inhabitants.’

  I watched him leave from the entrance to my tent, the flap gently moving in the cool northerly wind. All around men were going about the daily routine of camp life. Bozan had once told me war was a mixture of boredom and excitement, the former vastly outweighing the latter. I liked to think it was not boredom but routine keeping an army functioning; the routine of constant drill and maintaining a high standard of discipline. So all around me men were checking their weapons and equipment and cleaning armour and leather.

  I pulled my cloak around me and wandered over to the first of a line of tents where a squire was rubbing leather with cloths. He stood as I approached and bowed his head.

  ‘Carry on,’ I told him.

  He sat down on his stool and continued to rub the leather sword strap, conscious I was looking at him.

  ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Ariamnes, majesty.’

  ‘How long have you been a squire?’

  He looked up and flashed a smile. ‘Nearly four years, majesty.’

  ‘You will soon enter the ranks of the cataphracts.’

  ‘The gods willing, majesty.’

  I studied his hands, which resembled those of a man twice his age. Cleaning the weapons and armour of his master was a major part of a squire’s duties, as well as maintaining the saddlery of his own and his master’s horse. Every cataphract was attended by two squires and I surmised the other one was in the stable block cleaning and treating the saddles of his master’s horse, his own and the squire’s who was sitting before me.

  He finished cleaning the sword belt and examined it for any mould or cracks. There were none. He picked up a pair of boots.

  ‘When I was a squire I remember spending much time cleaning my master’s boots.’

  He stopped and gave me a quizzical look. ‘Yes, majesty.’

  It was common knowledge Hatra’s Royal Bodyguard employed slaves to do the tasks thought too menial by the nobles who staffed it, though neither my father nor Bozan had allowed privilege to affect discipline or battle skills. Hatra’s cataphracts had few peers when it came to battlefield prowess, though Dura’s could match them, perhaps even exceed them, but the nobles took their slaves with them when they went to war. Ariamnes was probably thinking I too had been a pampered noble when I had been a prince of Hatra. He was right. But Dura’s army had no slaves and even its king cleaned his own armour.

  ‘The Romans will soon be quitting their siege,’ I said, more to myself than him.

  He dipped a cloth in the bucket of water and wrung it out so it was damp rather than wet and wiped the boots. He took a sponge, dampened it and rubbed it on a soap bar.

  ‘And then they will have to fight us,’ he said.

  ‘At the moment the Romans outnumbered us,’ I told him, ‘so prudence might be a better policy.’

  He worked up a creamy lather and began rubbing it into the boot.

  ‘The Romans outnumbered us at Carrhae, majesty, and we still beat them.’

  The soap was produced by boiling oils with resins and salt and was used to treat fabrics such as wool and leather. Once it had been applied the boots would be allowed to partially dry, after which they would be rubbed vigorously with a soft cloth. Finally, neat’s-foot oil would be applied to keep them subtle and waterproof.

  ‘A general musters every available soldier before giving battle,’ I said.

  He looked up at me. ‘The Romans get weaker as we grow stronger. Dura’s army has never been defeated.’

  I saw the pride in his eyes and in his voice and it warmed me.

  ‘I intend to keep it that way, Ariamnes.’

  The next day, the land bathed in brilliant autumn sunshine, the Romans made their move. Sporaces brought me the news as I sat with Gallia in our tent eating a meagre breakfast of hard biscuit, cured meat and water. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as the sentry outside the tent entered and announced the presence of my commander of horse archers. He bowed and stood to attention before us.

  ‘The Romans are leaving their camp, majesty.’

  I nearly broke a tooth trying to bite through a biscuit.

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Their entire army, it would appear. The scouts have reported their horsemen exited first and now the legions are on the march. But there is no indication of them dismantling their camp.’

  ‘They mean to give battle then,’ said Gallia.

  ‘It would appear so, majesty,’ replied Sporaces.

  I discarded the biscuit. ‘Send word to alert the other kings and request their presence. Afterwards assemble the war council.’

  Twenty minutes later Gallia and I, both in full armour, Sporaces, Azad and Kewab stood around the table as I explained the tactics we would be employing, using biscuits to represent formations.

  ‘All the kings will muster near our camp in a show of force to lure the Romans towards the west. That is the direction we want the Romans to go when they quit their siege.’

  ‘If they quit their siege,’ said Gallia.

  I gave her a smile. ‘They will, I have no doubt.’

  ‘You intend to offer battle, majesty?’ asked Azad.

  ‘I do not,’ I told him.

  ‘You intend to frustrate them, majesty,’ smiled Kewab.

  ‘Exactly.’

  It took half the day for the Romans to file out of camp, dress their lines and array in battle order to face the Parthian army. The wind abated, the sun shone and both armies presented a magnificent spectacle to any gods possibly watching from the white-tipped mountains to the north. Spartacus stayed in the mountain forest with his men lest the Romans tried to retake what they had been evicted from. But below, on the plain, over fifty thousand Parthian horsemen deployed in a vast crescent shape in front of the Romans.

  The squires had been ordered to remain in their camps to guard the tents, supplies and non-combatants in the event the Romans raided them, not that I intended to allow the enemy to dance to anything but my own tune. Our army looked magnificent, like a great curved sabre pressed upon the barren plain. It was also colourful, the autumn sun highlighting the many hues making up its contingents. It was getting colder but the desultory rains and mists soaking our clothes and chilling our bones had disappeared as the winter approached. In their place were biting northerly winds and crisp mornings with just a hint of frost to whiten the landscape in the pre-dawn light before disappearing under the sun’s rays.

  The army had been drawn up according to my specific instructions and resembled a concave shape facing the Romans who were deploying to our front. And to ensure it performed according to my wishes I had place trusted friends and lieutenants in key positions. On the far right flank were Nergal’s red-uniformed horse archers. To their left were the white tunics of Sporaces and Dura’s horse archers and next to them seven thousand horse archers from Susiana and then three thousand horse archers from Media, men Aliyeh had summoned from her kingdom. The final formation on the right was Babylon’s horse archers attired completely in purple.