Parthian Dawn by Peter Darman Page B

Gallia and me. We were three figures huddled around the end of a long table later joined by Nergal and Praxima. They both took off their sword belts and laid them on empty chairs, sitting down beside us eager to begin eating. As servants scurried around lighting oil lamps hanging from walls I saw Rsan eye Praxima warily. Nergal’s Spanish woman was certainly a wild one, her long hair tumbling unkempt down her back. She used her dagger to cut slices of meat from the side of lamb that lay before her. I had seen her slit men’s throats with that dagger.
    ‘There is room for two hundred horses and five hundred men, Pacorus.’ Nergal filled a cup with wine and took a large gulp.
    ‘So where is the garrison?’ I asked Rsan, who picked at the food without enthusiasm.
    ‘Dead, majesty.’
    ‘From what?’ queried Gallia.
    ‘Alas, majesty, they were killed in battle.’
    I finished my wine and stretched back in my chair. ‘Please enlighten us, Rsan.’
    We had finished the food by the time he had finished his sorry tale. When he had been placed in charge of the city, Prince Mithridates had fancied himself as a great warrior, the equal of Alexander the Great and Hector of Troy. He had decided to put an end to the Agraci once and for all, and had ridden out of the city at the head of most of the garrison plus his own retinue of cavalry given to him by his father, King Phraates. The force totalled three hundred foot and five hundred horse, and most of it was slaughtered when it was ambushed by the Agraci two days’ march from the city.
    ‘Apparently,’ continued Rsan, ‘they were overwhelmed by huge numbers of Agraci, who descended on Prince Mithridates and his men like a plague of locusts. The prince did not lack for courage, but there were simply too many of them.’
    ‘And who told you this?’ I asked.
    ‘Prince Mithridates himself, who managed to escape the slaughter and make his way back to the city unscathed.’
    ‘A true hero, obviously,’ remarked Gallia dryly.
    Rsan continued. ‘The prince, with what few forces he had left, attacked the Agraci again a while later, and captured Haytham’s young daughter.’
    Rsan shook his head, his brow furrowed. ‘The Agraci king, majesty, is a most cunning individual, and when his daughter was taken from him he started raiding the prince’s, er, your kingdom. Prince Mithridates called upon the local lords to give him men to punish Haytham, but they refused.’
    I was surprised. ‘Why?’
    ‘The prince had raised the taxes considerably to pay for his household here, and they resented it. So he invited each lord to send his eldest son to a great feast here, in the Citadel, as a sign of his contrition towards them. And when they came he had them all put in chains.’
    This was outrageous. I stood up. ‘And have these men have been returned to their fathers?’
    Rsan looked down at the floor. ‘No, majesty, they are locked away in one of the store rooms next to the armoury.’
    ‘Go and get them, now!’
    Gallia pointed at him. ‘Wait, where is the daughter of this Agraci king?’
    Rsan held out his arms in a gesture of innocence. ‘In one of the kitchen store rooms, I believe.’
    Gallia stood up. ‘Find her and bring her here too.’
    ‘Majesties,’ said Rsan, ‘these prisoners may be dangerous, and you have no guards. May I suggest…’
    ‘Enough!’ I shouted. ‘Go and fetch the prisoners.’
    Rsan scuttled away. I told Nergal to go and fetch some of my horsemen just in case we encountered problems. He came back with a dozen men who stood around the hall with their bows beside them. First to arrive was the Agraci prisoner, who was a mere girl of eight or nine years. She had big brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. Her feet were bare and her clothes torn, and manacles were around her ankles. She shuffled slowly into our presence, shaking and obviously frightened. Gallia was enraged at her treatment. She walked over to the girl, knelt down in front of