Carrhae by Peter Darman Page A

horsemen and a further five thousand horse archers. He could spare no foot soldiers as those he had were spread across three kingdoms – Babylon, Susiana and Elymais – undertaking garrison duties. He had called on the help of King Phriapatius of Carmania but his troops would not be available for many weeks due to the great distance they had to cover.
    ‘Twenty thousand horsemen won’t be able to defeat the Armenians,’ remarked Domitus glumly.
    ‘The legions should march with you,’ agreed Kronos.
    ‘No,’ I replied. ‘If we strip Dura of men the Romans will march straight in. The frontier with Syria is quiet for the moment, but to denude this kingdom of troops is to invite the Romans to invade.’
    ‘What of the lords and their men?’ asked Domitus.
    ‘They will stay here with you, my friend,’ I answered, ‘to deter the Romans. Remember, sometime next year Crassus and his army will be arriving in Syria. Dura has to remain strong.’
    ‘What of Media and Atropaiene?’ asked Vagises.
    ‘Aschek has his own Armenian invasion to deal with and Atrax will hopefully be assisting Surena in Gordyene. He will not be able to spare any troops to reinforce Orodes.’
    The room fell silent. Domitus adopted his usual habit of toying with his dagger while Kronos and Vagises stared at the tabletop. Rsan looked very concerned and Aaron thoughtful. Dobbai for once appeared lost for words. Afterwards, somewhat deflated, I wandered back to the palace where one of the young apprentices from the armouries was waiting for me with an invitation from Arsam, the chief armourer, to attend him in his workplace. The latter was a collection of buildings in the northwest corner of the city, beyond the Citadel’s walls, home to hundreds of armourers and their apprentices where the weapons, armour, shields and horse furniture for the army were produced.
    I took Scarab with me. He had spent the morning at the stables mucking out stalls and grooming horses. I had taken Remus out for his daily exercise, and when I returned Scarab assisted me in unsaddling and ungirthing my horse and then rubbing him down, all the time asking me questions about Dura and its army. He certainly had an inquisitive mind. He still called me ‘divinity’, much to the amusement of the stable hands, and for the moment still believed that he was a slave. But then, all he had ever known was bondage and cruelty. As the time passed he would hopefully get used to his new position.
    Ever since the murder of Godarz, the city governor, Domitus had insisted that I should have an escort wherever I went, even on the shortest journeys, and so it was today as I walked from the Citadel to the armouries. A score of legionaries flanked Scarab and me as we strolled out of the gates and turned right. Thumelicus, a big German who was a Companion and one of the army’s most formidable soldiers, happened to be on guard duty in the Citadel that week so commanded the detail.
    ‘When do we march north to fight the Armenians?’
    ‘You don’t,’ I told him. ‘The legions are staying here just in case the Romans invade.’
    A look of disappointment spread across his big face. ‘More marching and guard duty, then. Can’t wait. We should have fought them all those months ago when we had the chance.’
    ‘Well we didn’t so there is no point agonising over what might have been.’
    Thumelicus looked at Scarab. ‘Who’s this?’
    ‘My new squire. He was a slave in the city of Emesa.’
    Thumelicus grinned at Scarab. ‘So this is the one that prompted Gallia to put an arrow in one of the enemy’s soldiers.’
    I nodded.
    ‘He doesn’t say much. Did they cut out his tongue?’
    ‘No,’ I answered. ‘He does not yet speak Parthian.’
    We arrived at the gates that led to the armouries, the sentries on duty snapping to attention as we passed them. The wall was a fairly recent addition but was deemed necessary to deter thieves. Dura’s weapons were among the finest in the empire