Free Companions (The Parthian Chronicles) by Peter Darman Page A

it Italy, a gruff German named Castus who sadly was no longer with me. Dura’s army wore white to symbolise the purity of its cause but my armour was black. It was a two-piece leather cuirass that was muscled and embossed on the upper front with a golden sun motif, with two golden winged lions immediately beneath. Over the thighs and shoulders were fringed strips of black leather adorned with golden bees. Though the Amazons and cataphracts wore armour the nineteen hundred horse archers that waited outside the city wore no metal protection on their heads or bodies.
    It always filled me with pride and awe when I saw large formations of Parthian horsemen, the physical manifestation of the empire’s strength. Of all the things that Parthia possessed it was its herds of horses that were the most precious. Without the horse there would be no cataphracts to shatter enemy formations or horse archers to rain down volleys of arrows on opponents. And not just any horse. The hundreds of horses that now stood in line in their companies were Akhal-Tekes, or Turkomans, horses descended from the animals ridden by the Turkmen tribe hundreds of years ago. Raised in the inhospitable terrain of the deserts in the east, they had long backs, shallow ribcages and long croups. Their coat is exceptionally fine and their tails silky. With their fine and elegant heads and long legs they had a regal appearance, which was entirely apt as they were treated like kings.
    Just like Remus the Teke has a high opinion of himself as well as being vigorous and restless in nature. He responds to gentle training but becomes stubborn and resentful if treated rudely. Parthians soon discovered this and found that if they lavished care and attention on them, they would be rewarded with having the finest warhorses in the world. So, just as in other kingdoms in the empire, Dura had a small army of farriers, veterinaries, stable hands and seises – trainers skilled in raising Tekes. The horses even had a specialised diet comprising dry alfalfa, pellets of mutton fat, eggs, barley and quatlame , a fried dough cake.
    And what was the result of all this expensive care and attention? A horse that had extraordinary speed and stamina, and which could tolerate heat and hunger and do without water longer than any other breed. Truly a gift from the gods.
    The company commanders saluted then followed the Amazons as we continued our journey to the rafts. I had originally commanded that two dragons – two thousand – of horse archers would travel south, but this had been reduced by one hundred when Gallia had decided that she and the Amazons would be accompanying me. Marcus had worked out the exact number of men and horses, plus supplies together with the fifty horsemen still due to arrive, that could be transported on the rafts. When we arrived at the river he was busy organising their loading. They looked like a long line of pagodas in the morning sunlight, each one covered with canvas awnings. When we dismounted the company commanders came forward to receive instructions from Marcus’ men regarding which rafts their men would board.
    ‘All have been marked with a number, in addition to the colours that your sorceress insisted be painted on each one, majesty,’ Marcus told me.
    I looked at the line of rafts disappearing south along the river.
    ‘You have done an excellent job, Marcus. My congratulations.’
    He looked at the first group of horses was being led towards a raft.
    ‘We have also scattered earth over the decking to facilitate the smooth loading of the horses, as you ordered.’
    He frowned and shook his head as one of the horses started snorting as its owner tried to lead it on to a raft.
    ‘It would have been better, majesty, to have taken foot soldiers only.’
    ‘Then I would have no missile support, Marcus,’ I told him. ‘And I am without your ballista, don’t forget.’
    A column of wagons pulled by mules trundles past, each one loaded with supplies: