Sons Of the Citadel, page 11
part #6 of Parthian Chronicles Series
‘It is as you say, majesty.’
Phraates, content, went back to conversing with Timo and Ashleen, occasionally shoving his high priest aside to talk with Atrax and his wife. Media’s star was clearly in the ascendant.
‘Your sister seems very friendly with Phraates,’ Gallia whispered to me.
‘Poor Atrax.’
‘Never underestimate a woman scorned, Pacorus.’
‘Who has scorned her?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘Any and all, husband, including you.’
I picked up the gold cup and emptied it. ‘The cold wind blowing in this city is nothing to the icy blast coursing through my sister’s heart.’
‘If she has one,’ said Claudia loudly.
The ceremony to promote Atrax lord high general was as long and tedious as I feared it might be. The Fire Temple was ironically largely devoid of fire apart from the eternal flame burning in front of the altar. Grey stone columns supported the high ceiling; the walls were grey and the floor tiled with black marble slabs. The temple was cold, unwelcoming and draughty and after half an hour of listening to Timo drone on and on I was shivering and my left leg ached. White-robed priests and eunuchs chanted prayers as the high priest blessed the sword and bow being presented to Atrax by Phraates. The high king looked bored and disinterested, Atrax appeared embarrassed and the dozens of courtiers and their wives resembled statues, albeit gaudily dressed ones. The only person who was revelling in the occasion was Aliyeh who wore a look of triumph as her husband was made the most important warlord in the Parthian Empire.
I embraced him afterwards and wished him long life and success. Phraates was already walking briskly back to the palace, deep in conversation with Aliyeh. Atrax’s surly sons had stayed behind with their father, casting sneering sideways glances at me.
‘So, my friend, you are now the sword of the empire,’ I said.
‘I will endeavour to curtail the ambitions of our young high king, Pacorus.’
He subconsciously rubbed his leg. ‘I remember only too well how dangerous the Romans can be. Wars are easy to start but harder to finish, I think.’
Gallia appeared and embraced him warmly.
‘How’s the leg?’ she asked.
‘Same as ever.’
‘Lucky for you lord high generals command from the saddle,’ I told him.
‘We must go, father,’ said Darius tersely, ‘the high king will be waiting.’
Atrax sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose he will.’
He smiled at Gallia and me kindly and walked away, wincing as he placed weight on his lame leg. Clearly the injury was getting worse. Darius gave me the slightest nod and the younger Alexander brushed past us rudely.
‘Manners are not what they were in Media,’ Gallia remarked.
The remnants of the congregation were filing out but Claudia was conspicuous by her absence. Gallia shrugged when I looked at her and so we walked back to the temple doors where a pair of slaves was sweeping the paving stones. They stopped and bowed as we brushed by them into the cavernous interior. I saw Claudia at the far end of the chamber near the altar, deep in conversation with someone.
‘Typical, no doubt arguing about some obscure deity or religious festival,’ I grumbled.
My leg had begun to throb and with the increase in pain came a drop in my patience. I walked purposely towards my jabbering daughter who was now gesticulating with her arms. Whoever she was talking to was obscured by the eternal flame burning tall and bright. We reached the altar to find no priests nearby, or indeed anyone else apart from Claudia who was now silent. She turned to me and smiled wanly.
‘I was right about the eagles, father, it was a sign.’
‘From the gods?’ enquired Gallia.
Claudia nodded. ‘More eagles are coming to threaten this city and Parthia.’
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. ‘The Romans?’
My daughter nodded again.
‘Who told you this?’ asked Gallia.
‘An old friend.’
I looked around the temple. There was no one near the altar and the rest of the building appeared empty.
‘I did not see anyone.’
Claudia walked past us towards the entrance.
‘I would explain, father, but she said I would be wasting my time.’
We followed, badgering her with questions but she would say no more and so we gave up. I wanted to ignore her words and concentrate on the here and now but a nagging voice in my head told me her words were prophetic, and Gallia’s expression did nothing to persuade me otherwise.
I still had a nagging voice in my head when I was summoned to see Phraates the next day, having made the decision to return to Dura as soon as possible. The visit had been a complete waste of time and I failed to see the purpose of summoning me to Phraaspa. Perhaps the high king would reveal it to me in our meeting, which took place in an anteroom adjacent to his bedroom. In attendance as usual was Ashleen who bizarrely was watering a row of small plants with a tiny silver watering can when I entered the room. Two guards stood behind Phraates, who was reclining on a couch, a scribe poised to record our meeting. I bowed my head.
Phraates extended an arm to me. ‘Please, be at ease.’
I sat down on the couch opposite and placed my helmet on the floor. Phraates stared at it.
‘Parthia is entering a new age, King Pacorus, an age of what I hope will be strength, prosperity and pride.’
‘Let us hope so,’ I said.
Phraates brought his hands together slowly.
‘That being the case I am determined to rid the empire of the laxness and informality that has been its affliction since the death of King of King Sinatruces.’
There was a name I had not heard in an age. Why would this young man be dragging up the name of a high king who had been dead for over thirty years? Ashleen continued to water the plants but I had no doubt he was making a note of every word, as was the scribe whose pen scratched on the papyrus.
‘I have to tell you, King Pacorus, some are unhappy with Dura and its king.’
‘Oh, who would they be?’
Phraates smiled politely. ‘It does not matter. They say you have corrupted the purity of the empire, though I am sure inadvertently, though they are mindful of the great service you have rendered Parthia in the past.’
I stayed calm. ‘In what way have I corrupted the empire?’
Phraates glanced at Ashleen who nodded. The scribe continued writing.
‘For one thing,’ answered he high king, ‘you have forged an alliance with the Agraci, a race who are the sworn enemies of the empire.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘I have heard the same complaint for over twenty years. It had little merit then and has even less now.’
Phraates clenched a fist. ‘On the contrary, King Pacorus, it has much merit. Your dalliances with the Agraci have resulted in one of their women sitting on Gordyene’s throne. A most regrettable development.’
‘Spartacus and Rasha are loyal, majesty.’
‘But to whom?’ asked Phraates. ‘To you or Parthia?’
‘The question is meaningless,’ I replied, ‘we are all loyal to Parthia and may I remind you it was your father who gave Spartacus the throne of Gordyene.’
‘In a different time, King Pacorus, a wild, barbarous period when the low were raised high, a mistake in my opinion.’
I doubted it was his opinion. More likely it was Ashleen’s who continued to play the indoor gardener.
‘You see my dilemma?’
‘Not really,’ I replied.
‘Former slaves should not be occupying Parthian thrones. Not only does this upset the natural order of things within the empire it gives encouragement to our enemies to attack us. Do you think it is a coincidence the Romans have attacked the empire since former slaves rule in Dura, Hatra and Gordyene? And let us not mention Sakastan.’
‘Please do,’ I said through gritted teeth.
Phraates raised a hand. ‘Ashleen.’
The Chief of Court put down the watering can and stood beside his master.
‘King Peroz is married to Queen Roxanne, a former prostitute from Dura. This has promoted animosity between Carmania and Sakastan.’
‘It will not do, King Pacorus.’
I leaned forward and fixed the young man with my eyes.
‘What do you want?’
Phraates stared at me as his lapdog spoke.
‘King of Kings Phraates desires the King of Dura withdraws from public life, to no longer participate in the affairs of the empire pertaining to the conduct of its foreign policy or wielding influence to determine who should occupy important positions within the empire.
‘Furthermore, Dura will renounce its alliance with the Agraci, a race an anathema to Parthia and its gods, and promise in any future conflict against said race its king will be a willing participant.’
I pondered for a moment. What was Phraates demanding? I was not to interfere with his running of the empire? As I had been instrumental in his smooth transition to power the last thing I wanted was to delve into the sewer that was Ctesiphon’s politics. But I would never be a part of a war against the Agraci.
‘Dura’s alliance with the Agraci stands.’
Phraates smarted at my words and there was a sharp intake of breath from Ashleen.
‘You see, what you fail to understand, King Pacorus, is…’
I waved a hand at him. ‘Spare me any lectures. I am too old to listen to another courtier full of piss and wind give me his opinion of the world.’
Ashleen’s mouth opened and shut but no more words came forth. Phraates looked furious.
‘Dura would be wise to recognise the world has changed and to survive it too must change, as must its king.’
I picked up my helmet, stood and bowed my head.
‘I’m too set in my ways to change. As for retiring from public life; I shall be glad to.’
‘And Dura must also pledge not to intrigue against the empire,’ said Ashleen.
I laughed. ‘And why would it do that?’
‘It is well known Gordyene, Hatra and Mesene are your close allies,’ I detected a nervous note in Phraates’ voice.
‘Dura has no interest in provoking any future conflict,’ I assured him, ‘and neither do the kingdoms you have just listed.’
‘We will always be grateful for the service you have rendered to the empire, King Pacorus,’ said Phraates.
Some would have taken offence at the slight administered to me but I had no interest in playing politics at Phraates’ court. It was time for those younger and more zestful to take centre stage, for good or ill.
I walked back to my quarters but had not gone fifty paces when I turned a corner and ran straight into Aliyeh and her two reptilian sons. They pulled up sharply when they saw me, huddling behind their mother who presented a more daunting prospect. Her brown eyes narrowed and her top lip hinted at the trace of a sneer as she beheld me, her brother.
‘An unexpected pleasure,’ I said, ‘I trust you are well, sister.’
‘Well enough,’ came the curt reply.
‘You must be delighted Atrax is high in the favour of Phraates.’
‘All Media is high in the favour of King Phraates,’ said Darius.
‘A Parthian of a pure and ageless bloodline,’ added Alexander, ‘whose rule will usher in a golden age for the empire.’
‘My husband owes his achievements to courage and merit alone,’ said Aliyeh sharply.
‘Of course,’ I agreed.
‘He does not consort with slaves, Agraci and other lowborn elements,’ sneered Aliyeh.
I decided not to rise to the bait.
‘I rejoice Media is at peace, sister.’
‘Media is strong,’ stated Darius.
‘Because Media is pure,’ added Alexander.
They were like two well-trained parrots and though I was willing to forgive my sister for her lack of manners the courtesy did not extend to her spoilt offspring.
‘Purity?’ I said.
‘We are pure Parthian,’ stated Darius proudly, ‘and can trace our ancestry back to the first king of the empire.’
‘Arsaces,’ announced Alexander.
‘My congratulations, it must be a great comfort to you both.’
‘Everything is a joke to you, isn’t it?’ said Aliyeh. ‘You have no respect for the social hierarchy that has made Parthia great for nearly four hundred years. Where once Parthia’s kings only entrusted their nobles with positions of power you surround yourself with the waifs and strays of humanity.’
‘And by doing so besmirch the honour of the empire,’ stated Darius haughtily.
‘And encourage its enemies to perceive us as weak,’ chimed in Alexander.
I pointed at the pair. ‘Did it take much effort to teach them to speak in unison or were they born with such a talent?’
Darius moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, followed by Alexander. Not quite in unison but near enough.
‘You pull those swords,’ I remarked casually, ‘and the love and respect I have for your father will not save you from being taught a harsh lesson.’
Aliyeh looked concerned but said nothing as the corridor suddenly became very empty and very small.
‘You are old,’ Darius taunted me.
‘And infirm,’ said Alexander.
I casually rested my left hand on the pommel of my sword.
‘You are right but can you be sure you would beat me without also being injured? Even on old dog can still bite when provoked.’
‘Enough!’ barked Aliyeh, her eyes filled with loathing. ‘This is the court of the high king not some back-street inn.’
‘Frightened your two peacocks will get their feathers ruffled,’ I grinned.
Darius drew his sword. ‘You will pay for that.’
I stepped back and drew my spatha. ‘Here I am, boy.’
Aliyeh turned and slapped her son across the face. ‘Leave us.’
Darius, stunned, mumbled something, gave me a hateful stare and withdrew, still clutching his sword, Alexander following. I slid my sword back into its scabbard.
‘You are a disgrace, Pacorus, and I am ashamed to admit you are my brother.’
‘No surprise there.’
She could barely contain her anger. ‘When you returned to Parthia I wept. I thought they were tears of joy but I now realise they were shed for the empire. You have proved a corruptive influence, Pacorus, causing much grief for our family and Parthia.’
I sheathed my weapon and folded my arms across my chest. ‘Our family? Explain yourself.’
‘If it had not been for you there would have been no civil war in Parthia. Our father would have lived to see out his old age, as was his right. But instead he was killed fighting your war, along with Vata whose death destroyed my sister’s chance of any happiness in this life.
‘And not content with being responsible for the untimely death of our father you had to trample on all the good work he had done making Hatra great by engineering Gafarn becoming king.’
‘It was father’s wish he should rule Hatra.’
She curled her lip at me. ‘So you say but what is your word worth, you who took a slave for a wife and made slaves Hatra’s rulers?’
I moved closer to her. ‘Have a care, Aliyeh.’
‘Or what? You will murder me like you murdered King Porus, King Chosroes and King of Kings Mithridates?’
‘Ancient history,’ I said, ‘though I can understand why someone so eaten away by bitterness might want to drag it up.’
‘You are an embarrassment to your family and to the empire,’ she raged, ‘an irritant polite company shuns. You taint our family with your associations with the Agraci, with slaves and whores.’
‘Whores?’ I laughed.
‘The so-called Queen of Sakastan who was a whore in your city before you allowed her to corrupt King Peroz. I am glad King of Kings Phraates has demanded you retire from public life.’
I looked at her. ‘How do you know? I have just come from his private quarters and no one could have informed you so quickly.’
She regarded me with a triumphal look and it all suddenly fell into place. Phraates had not told her because the idea had been born in her mind. Like a puppet I had been manipulated by the Queen of Media to come to Phraaspa to be insulted and humiliated. How long had she been plotting this? The realisation was doubly wounding because I had been so vociferous in lobbying for Phraates.
We stood alone, brother and sister, in a cold corridor in the city of dragons. I should have cared about the insult dealt to me but I did not. I had nothing to prove and I was done with the politics of the empire. She had no doubt been instrumental in getting Atrax promoted to lord high general and desired high positions for her two sons, though Darius would have to wait until he became King of Media. It was all so tiring but what saddened me the most was Aliyeh despised me, I saw that now.
‘What happened to you?’ I asked. ‘You are queen of a great kingdom, have born two sons and have a husband who loves you and who is a brave, honourable man. But it is not enough, is it? What do you want, Aliyeh, for Atrax to be high king so you may sit on a throne at Ctesiphon beside him?’
‘I want our family’s honour back. I do not want Hatra to be ruled by former slaves, I do not want a former slave and an Agraci woman to be ruling Gordyene, or the Kingdom of Mesene to be ruled by your lowborn friends. Most of all I desire the Kingdom of Dura to vanish from the face of the earth so my name is no longer associated with its king.’
For a second I considered decapitating her for her insolence.
‘We will not speak again, Aliyeh. Give my regards to your husband.’
I turned and walked away, saddened and maddened in equal measure.
‘You should have killed her,’ said Gallia as she pulled the cloak around her.
The wind was howling and there were flecks of snow in the air as we rode south from Phraaspa. We had left the city the same day Phraates had requested I retire from public life. I told Gallia of the conversation I had had with Aliyeh and her two sons after we were on the road, not wanting to risk my wife confronting my estranged sister. Her words confirmed my wise decision.
‘Phraates is an ungrateful boy,’ she spat. ‘I had reservations about him from the start.’
