Chapter 21
The wall of mountains on either side gradually disolved into a tangle of low hills and then the valley was lost as they wound their way through more hills, following a stream. When that gave out they descended onto a broad plain that took them several days to cross before more hills barred their path.
Late in the afternoon, exactly eleven days after leaving Damascus, they came to the top of a gentle rise, on the other side of which the ground dropped steeply. Geta whistled and Publius grinned.
"We made it!" he exclaimed, drawing rein and gazing down on the scene before them.
"That's Zeugma?" Geta asked. "It's bigger than I could have imagined."
"It's certainly bigger than you might expect to find out here in the wilds," Publius said. "By the looks of it, I'd say that it had a Greek founder."
"How can you tell, Master?" Geta wanted to know.
"If it was Roman, you'd be able to see the two main streets, the Via Maxima and the Via Minora, crossing in the middle of town. Streets laid out on a grid pattern like that are Greek. Still, see that big building near the centre? I bet that's the governor's house and the legionary headquarters won't be too far away. Let's head for that: we should be there before they shut up shop for the day."
"And look at the river beyond it." Geta pointed. "It's huge, considering how dry these hills are!"
"It's called the 'Euphrates'," Publius told him. "I grant you, it's an awe-inspiring sight, all that water just flowing through the middle of this desolation."
"What desolation?" Geta grinned. "Those fields are almost as green as back in Gaul."
"They'll be watered from the river," Publius replied. "By the looks of everywhere away from the river, I'd say that it hasn't rained here for years."
He shook his reins and Geta followed him down the slope and across the narrow plain to the high, mud-brick walls of the city and the gate where a couple of swarthy auxilliaries stood on guard.
"Ave," Publius greeted them with upraised hand. "Centurion Publius Cassius Varo of the Sixth Legion. I've been seconded here to find out how you chaps keep the Parthians at bay."
"Very good, sir." The guard's Latin was so heavily accented that Publius only just understood him. "Headquarters is where you want, sir. They'll look after you there."
Naturally no one at headquarters had heard of Publius Cassius Varo and his secondment, but the officer to whom Publius spoke was friendly enough and after quizzing Publius a bit to make sure that he was indeed a centurion, assigned him a room in the northern barracks and sent a slave with them to introduce him to Centurion Ahenobarbus.
The next few days passed in a haze of heat and sweat. Publius rode out with Ahenobarbus and his men as they patrolled along the river bank to the north and south of the city and shared their turn at watch duty on the walls.
"Looks peaceful enough," Publius remarked as they stood on the wall one evening gazing out over the swiftly flowing brown water of the Euphrates. "I thought you chaps would be fighting all the time."
Ahenobarbus grunted. "Nah. We leave that to you death and glory boys up on the German Limes. We just laze around here in the sunshine and grumble about the food." He came over and stood beside Publius. "See the horizon over there?" He pointed across the river. "I'm told that it's a bank like the one behind us. I'd give a lot to be able to see what's on the other side of it. You just never know when that bank is going to suddenly sprout Parthians by the thousand, galloping down here to pour volleys of arrows over the walls."
"Really?" Publius lifted his hand to shade his eyes.
"I was here last time it happened," Ahenobarbus said. "I was only an ordinary legionary back then, but I was astounded at how fast those barbarians moved. We only just had time to close the gates before they were upon us."
"But, what about the river?" Publius raised his eyebrows.
"They galloped down the track there," Ahenobarbus pointed, "and they were like quicksilver rolling down the slope. They just rode their horses into the river and either swam them across or galloped through the ford. I tell you, if we hadn't moved sharpish, they would have caught us with the gates still open. And the arrows! Phew! I hope never to see anything like it again. They seemed to have limitless supplies of them and they just kept pouring over the walls in a constant stream. I got one in the upper arm here," he bared his left arm and showed it to Publius, "but there was no shirking back then - not like the namby-pamby mummy's boys we get these days. The surgeons pushed it through and I was back up on the walls before you could say 'Caesar Augustus'. Of course we were shooting back as hard as we could - I dare say you've noticed that most of my lads are local boys? They can handle a bow as well as any Parthian, but the trouble was that we were stationary targets on the wall while they they were constantly on the move galloping from place to place. You put an arrow on the string, drew it fully back and then poked your head round the corner of a crenellation and more or less fired at random and hoped you hit something."
"Still," Publius said, leaning out over the wall to look down to the ground. "Horsemen would have trouble getting over a wall like this."
"That's what saved us," Ahenobarbus agreed. "They rely on swiftness and surprise and when they found out that we weren't surprised they soon rode off again - taking with them all the peasants they caught working in the fields. One man got away that night by jumping into the river after dark and letting it carry him down to us, but we haven't seen anything of the rest of them since."
"So how do you fight them?" Publius asked, turning to face his companion.
Ahenobarbus shrugged. "We don't. You know the story about how Crassus lost his legions - despite advice from people who knew the Parthian way of doing things, he insisted on drawing up the legions in the normal way. The Parthians simply rode away from him, staying just close enough to lure him on. Then, when he was a long way from camp they turned and galloped in circles around the army, firing arrows as they went. Their bows are strong enough to shoot an arrow straight through a shield and even armour is no guarantee of protection. Crassus' men were wiped out, they just didn't stand a chance."
"But if you don't fight, what do you do?"
"There's always the Armenians," Ahenobarbus laughed. "They can ride and shoot as well as any Parthian, but of course they are no match for the Great King if he comes out in force. The only thing we can do is shelter behind our fortifications and wait - the gods help us if the Parthians ever learn the art of siege warfare! Fortunately they don't have a professional army, so after a short time in the field they tend to get discouraged and drift away - and, of course, there's always a rebellion or something going on up in the hills to keep the Great King busy and off our backs."
"But what if you should get caught out in the open?" Publius wanted to know.
"Say our prayers and build a fortified camp as quickly as we can if there are enough of us, say our prayers and die if it's just a patrol."
Publius shivered despite the heat. "I'm beginning to wish I knew what was on the other side of that rise as well," he said. "Do you ever cross the river?"
Ahenobarbus shook his head. "No. We're not about to provoke the Parthians. We stay on our side and hope that they stay on theirs. Of course we question merchants coming from there and no doubt they do the same to merchants going in the opposite direction, but that's about it. So far it's worked for sixty or seventy years - apart from raids like the one where I got my wound. The last time we had any serious trouble was when the Parthians invaded Palestine back at the start of the first Herod's reign. They killed his brother and very nearly captured him. He only just escaped."
"I don't know much about the history of this part of the world," Publius admitted. "I can tell you all about Caesar's campaigns in Gaul, but apart from one or two facts - like Crassus's defeat - I'm completely ignorant. Why don't we go down to that inn you took me to the other night? I'll stand you a beer and you can tell me about the Parthians and Herod."
The two men climbed down the steep stairs from the wall walkway and headed through the warren of narrow alleys that filled the space between the broad main streets of the Roman town. As they reached the inn a soldier came out, recognised the two centurions and raised his arm in a smart salute.
"Ave, centurion - er - centurions."
He narrowed his eyes and stared at Publius.
"Aren't you the officer from Gaul, sir?"
"That's right," Publius said.
"Ah. There's been a messenger looking for you, sir. Usual army postman, sir, but apparently there's a letter for you. It's in the governor's office, I should think, sir."
"A letter for me?" Publius was surprised. "Who would be writing to me? Who knows I'm here apart from some of my comrades back in Gaul?"
"No idea, sir." The soldier shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe its a message summoning you back to Gaul, sir."
"I'd better go and see what it's all about," Publius said, turning to Ahenobarbus. "I'll get back here as soon as I've found out and then we can have that drink together."
"I'll be waiting for you," Ahenobarbus smiled.
Publius strode away briskly, his mind buzzing with curiosity. He knew better than to expect letters from the rough soldiers of his command in Gaul and while old Castor, his optio, was his best friend in the army, he wasn't exactly the letter-writing type. There were no women in his life who might be writing - his mother had died ten years previously shortly after his father's death - which only left official letters, but why anyone in officialdom should be writing to him was more than he could fathom.
Publius took the three steps up into the doorway of the admin building in a single leap and marched down the hall to the governor's office. Wahid, the governor's clerk, looked up as he strode in the door.
"Ave, Wahid." Publius greeted the man.
"Ave, sir," the clerk replied.
"I hear you have a letter for me," Publius said.
"Ah, yes. I'm sorry if you have been interrupted in something important, centurion. It's just a short note from someone or other and I'm sure it would have waited until the morning."
He went over to a cupboard in the wall behind him and lifted a couple of piles of papyrus sheets before he found what he was looking for. He carried the slip of papyrus over to Publius and handed it to him. It was carefully folded over and sealed with a lump of clay. Publius examined the seal, but when he failed to recognise it, rapped the clay sharply on the desk and it disintegrated with a spray of dust. He unfolded the papyrus and glanced down at the words.
