Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) (13 page)

BOOK: Companions (The Parthian Chronicles)
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‘Stay here,’ I said to Gallia, Byrd and Malik as I urged Remus forward.

Vagharsh followed but I turned and shouted to him.

‘You too, I need to talk to Domitus.’

I galloped forward to the rear of the giant
testudo
as it inched its way towards the enemy. I jumped from the saddle and handed the reins to a startled legionary in the rearmost rank.

‘Hold these,’ I said and then pushed my way through the century.

‘Mind where your tread, bloody idiot and get out of my way’ were but a few of the insults I had to endure from burly, gruff soldiers whose minds were focused on the coming fight and had no time for their king at this time. I stooped low and shoved my way through the ranks. I recognised a transverse crest in front of me.

‘Domitus,’ I hissed.

‘What in the name of Mars are you doing here?’

I stood immediately behind him. ‘Those soldiers in front are from Charax. You remember us talking about them? They probably fight in the old Greek style. You remember the tactics from the Sons of the Citadel?’

‘Of course,’ he snapped. ‘Now get back to your horse boys and make sure no one turns our flanks.’

‘Shamash be with you,’ I said to him as I turned and endured more insults as I made my way to the rear of the century. As I took Remus’ reins and vaulted into the saddle I heard Domitus shouting to his centurions, alerting them to the tactics of the enemy and to spread the word to the other centuries.

I galloped back to my queen and scouts as a loud whooshing sound erupted behind me. Gallia gave the order to stop as I brought Remus to a halt in a cloud of dust and turned him to face south. Just in time to see the sky filled with thousands of black arrows arching into the blue sky. The legionaries halted as the missiles fell out of the sky and struck their shields.

There followed a second volley and once again the Durans and Exiles sheltered beneath their shields – three layers of wood glued together with the grain of the wood at right angles to the preceding layer, faced with thick leather. The shields were locked tight above and facing the enemy because arrows had a nasty habit of finding any gaps to strike bodies. And so the centuries stood, immobile, as the soldiers of King Tiraios marched across the bone-hard surface towards them.

Know your enemy was a phrase that was heard often enough in the classrooms where the Sons of the Citadel were instructed. These were the best and brightest officers of Dura’s army, men earmarked for future high command. I had hired Parthian, Greek and Egyptian scholars, Chinese philosophers and Roman engineers. I had originally envisaged the school as a place where boys would be tutored to become Dura’s future military leaders. But once established it became apparent that the army’s best serving officers would also benefit from the school’s pool of hired wisdom. And so it was.

The best commanders among the legions, horse archers and cataphracts soon learned of the tactics, composition and capabilities of every kingdom in the Parthian Empire, as well as those of our greatest foe: Rome. This meant that no matter what adversary Dura’s army faced its leaders would be well acquainted with the enemy it was about to fight. And today was no different.

Alexander of Macedon, the demi-god who had conquered the world, had founded Charax. But that had been two hundred and sixty years ago and since that time the city had been destroyed by floods, rebuilt and seen its status greatly reduced. Today it was a trading centre and something of a backwater. Its kings were more concerned with commerce and the price of precious metals from the east than with wars and conquest. How easy it must have been for Narses to bribe and flatter Tiraios to make him a pawn in his plans. Just as the King of Persis had dangled the prospect of glory and riches in front of Chosroes, so he had no doubt convinced the King of Charax that Mesene would be easy to conquer, the more so with thousands of warriors from Sakastan to reinforce Charax’s army.

That army now marched confidently towards Domitus’ men. Curiously, though Alexander of Macedon had founded Charax, its army was equipped and organised in an older Greek style. Not only had Charax not waged a war in decades but also its location made huge phalanxes equipped with the eighteen foot-long sarissa unworkable. Where could such a formation deploy outside a city surrounded by fields, palm groves and marshland? Instead the primary weapon of the Charaxian soldier was an eight-foot stabbing spear with a leaf-shaped blade at one end and a vicious counter-balance spike at the other end called a ‘lizard sticker’. Tiraios’ men fought in a phalanx, eight ranks deep instead of sixteen favoured by Alexander and his father, the first three of which held their spears overhead to strike downwards. The following five ranks held their spears at an angle of forty-five degrees. The city had adapted the tactics of its army to suit the terrain it was expected to fight in. But we knew how it fought.

As the enemy phalanx approached I heard melodious music coming from its ranks. Like Greek armies of old the Charaxian advance was accompanied by flutes, drums and horns, the music designed to both inspire their own men and strike fear into their enemies.

It was an impressive sight: a great phalanx nearly equal to the frontage of Domitus’ centuries advancing as one, each phalangist protect by hardened leather greaves, leather cuirass and bronze helmets. The latter covered the head and most of the neck and had cheek pieces and nose guards that swept forward to such a degree that they nearly met in the centre of the face. The eyes, nose and mouth of its wearer were virtually enclosed. Charaxian helmets also had white crests on top, which not only provided defence against falling spears and blows to the top of the head, but also made the wearer taller and more fearsome. But such a helmet was uncomfortable and impaired the vision and hearing of its wearer.

As well as protecting an individual from the neck to above the knees, a Charaxian shield also facilitated mutual protection in the phalanx. Around three feet in diameter, they were made of wood and faced with leather, both inside and out. Bowl shaped, they were held with the left arm placed through a central band gripped via a leather strap attached to the shield’s rim. Every shield was painted red and emblazoned with two white wings in honour of the Goddess Nike.

The enemy phalanx walked forward accompanied by its musicians as whistles and trumpets blew among the legionaries and the
testudo
dissolved. Those who had been wounded by arrows were assisted to the rear to be treated by physicians. I thanked Shamash that there appeared to be few casualties. Then the centuries advanced. Tiraios had subjected Domitus’ men to volleys of arrows to soften them up and now he intended to smash them to pieces using his heavy foot. It was a sensible if predictable tactic but he entirely misunderstood the enemy he was facing. His men fought in a relatively loose formation whereas Dura’s foot fought in more compact bodies, but as both sides closed on each other the Charaxians encountered a nasty surprise.

As both sides broke into a run when they charged each other a volley of javelins came from the ranks of the legionaries. The Romans called a javelin a
pilum
and it was nothing more than a four-foot shaft of ash topped by a solid triangle of wood, onto which was riveted a thin iron shaft around two and half feet in length that ended in a tiny triangular tip. On impact the iron usually bends, which makes pulling it out of a shield much harder. In fact a javelin stuck in an enemy shield renders the latter useless. But more than this; a volley of javelins destroys the impetus of an enemy charge.

It was so now as the first two ranks in every century hurled their javelins as the two sides closed on each other. Five hundred javelins lanced through the air to land among the front ranks of the enemy phalanx. The first two ranks in each century then pulled their swords from their scabbards as the third and fourth ranks also launched their javelins over their heads towards the now disorganised front ranks of the phalangists – another five hundred iron-tipped missiles embedded themselves in Charaxian shields. And then each legionary went to work with his
gladius
.

Actually that was incorrect. Each first rank legionary barged into the enemy with his body weight behind his shield. This either knocked a phalangist to the ground where he could be finished off by the second-rank legionaries, or shoved him rearwards into his comrades behind. Either way the phalanx was stopped dead in its tracks and its discomfited members had no time to reorganise themselves after the javelin storm before the legionaries were among them.

I gave a shout of triumph. ‘Now we will see the mettle of these Charaxians.’

‘What about them?’ asked Byrd, pointing at the soldiers of Sakastan standing motionless in two huge blocks, a great gap between them where the Charaxian phalanx had been before it advanced. Towards the rear were the archers, redundant now that the phalanx and the legionaries were locked in combat.

‘They will attack soon, Pacorus,’ Malik warned me.

He was right but I was worried about what the enemy archers would do. If they advanced then I would not be able to deploy my horse archers against the Sakastanis without incurring heavy losses. I was desperately trying to decide what to do when the two formations of enemy spearmen and swordsmen from Sakastan made up my mind for me.

There was a great blast of horns that temporarily drowned out the clatter of combat coming from the centre of the battlefield as the two enemy flanks charged. They moved quickly, breaking into a run almost immediately, fracturing their ragged formation as groups of warriors raced forward. This Tiraios was clever. He knew that his own soldiers were the best troops he had and had committed them against my foot soldiers. But he also knew that if the less disciplined, armed and equipped Sakastanis could sweep around the flanks of my foot soldiers then they could tip the battle’s balance in his favour. The dragon of horse archers that Gallia had led south was positioned to the right rear of Domitus’ men, the dragon that I commanded being positioned on the left, parallel to the one on the right.

‘Gallia,’ I said, ‘take your dragon and stop those enemy warriors threatening Domitus’ right flank. I will do the same on the left.’

She nodded and shouted at Epona to move forward. Seconds later she and Amazons were galloping over to the waiting companies of horse archers.

‘I would ask you to safeguard my wife, lord prince,’ I said to Malik.

His face broke into a grin. ‘Have no fear, my friend, I will see to it.’

‘I too,’ said Byrd, who raised a hand to me and then followed Malik in the wake of the Amazons.

I dug my knees into Remus and he shot forward towards the waiting companies on the left flank. They were already nocking arrows in their bowstrings in anticipation of combat, for they knew that the horde of warriors charging towards them had to be stopped. I thanked Shamash that the speed of their advance would negate the enemy’s archers from delivering any supporting volleys.

The commanders of the companies came forward as a red and yellow tide surged towards us from the south.

‘First five companies will assault them head-on,’ I ordered. ‘The second-line companies will strike their flank. Shamash be with you.’

They saluted and galloped back to their men. I urged Remus forward as the signallers behind me blew their horns and a thousand horsemen moved forward. The first-line companies, each one in two ranks as before, broke into a canter and then a slow gallop as they advanced towards the oncoming warriors. As the middle company caught up with me I could see that the enemy numbered thousands. I nocked an arrow in my bowstring and aimed the arrow up at the sky. I released the bowstring and plucked another arrow from my quiver as those beside and behind me did the same. The company, like the others, was widely spaced for we had no intention of charging into the oncoming mob. The distance between it and us was around four hundred paces and diminishing fast as we shot two more volleys. Just as they had done on the training field as soon as the horns sounded we turned our horses left and left again, to take us away from the oncoming mass. We twisted in the saddle to shoot a volley over the hindquarters of our horses as we retreated before the Sakastanis.

The enemy’s charge had been slowed but not stopped by our volleys but its impetus was greatly curtailed when the other companies of horse archers struck it in the flank.

The five companies that had been in the second line turned left and rode away from the army before swinging right to head towards the canal. They galloped hard and then turned completely around so they were riding parallel to the right flank of the charging enemy warriors. They then proceeded to rake them with arrows from a distance of around two hundred paces. Close enough to ensure that their arrows found their targets; far enough away to safeguard against being hit by the missiles being shot by their comrades in the first-line companies.

In a matter of minutes each horse archer had emptied one of his quivers – nearly thirty thousand arrows shot at the enemy. Not all of them had hit an enemy warrior, especially as the horses had once again kicked up a prodigious amount of dust that reduced visibility. But it destroyed the momentum of the enemy’s charge.

After retreating three or four hundred paces we turned our horses and rode back south once again, this time at a canter. The dust was everywhere, stinging our eyes and getting into our noses.

‘Halt!’ I shouted.

The last thing we needed was to blunder into the enemy unawares. Spears and swords could inflict terrible injuries on horse bellies and legs. The sounds of battle could still be heard to the right where the centuries were locked in a ferocious battle with the phalanx but ahead there were only muffled sounds of shouts, screams and shrieks. Suddenly figures on foot appeared ahead, two hundred paces away perhaps. One, two, a dozen, fifty.

BOOK: Companions (The Parthian Chronicles)
5.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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