Domina Victrix

Chapter 22: 23 AD, Artaxata, Armenia

Tigranes of Parthia stormed out of his tent and looked around him at chaos. Flames shot to the night sky as horses screamed, and men cursed and shouted at Numidians, Gauls, Greeks, and other nightmares who seemed to be everywhere with torches, daggers, and swords. He boarded a horse, wearing nothing but breeches, found an officer's staff, and waded into the fray, shouting orders that went unheeded. A horn sounded and as soon as they appeared, the invaders left.

Tigranes tried to move forward against the swirling tide of men around him. He cracked the stick on backs and heads until it broke and he found another. Men formed bucket brigades to the river and tried to put out fires in hay, tents, grass, foodstores, and all the other combustibles that made up the camp, which only caused the catastrophe to spread. A man with his tunic in flames ran screaming right under Tigranes' horse's nose. The animal panicked and reared, throwing the King on his butt on the ground. Seated there, he continued to curse the Romans, the Armenians, Tiberius, Artaxis, Juba, and Mark Antony. Aides helped him to his feet as he continued to rail at a man who had been for over fifty years. An officer got in his face.

"He's dead, Sire!"

"Oh, no!" Tigranes shouted. "Romans treat their dead ancestors as very much alive and controlling from beyond. Where's Antonius?"

"Take him to the prisoner," a staff officer said.

"We need to call a council to discuss this!" a general said.

Tigranes' son Mithras looked the man in the eye.

"Right now, we need him out of here so we can deal with this."

Officers led the way to a cellar in a ruined farmyard. Sensing his prey, the old King huffed down the stairs and kicked Bolt in the ribs as he sat up.

"Your relatives just tried to rescue you and they have failed," Tigranes said. "Tomorrow we will crucify you in front of your army and then annihilate them."

"You will fail, in your turn!" Bolt shouted.

Tigranes called an aide,

"I want to know how many men were killed tonight," he said and turned back to Bolt. "You will pay with your flesh, one lash for every death."

"Screw you!" Bolt snapped and threw his middle finger for emphasis.

Fed up with this arrogant Roman boy, his family, his pretensions, and his officer-dandy ways, Tigranes brought the truncheon down full force on Bolt's back. He was aware that Young Antonius either knew what was in those dispatches or realized their importance. His unnecessary stubbornness was the biggest hint. Bolt tried to turn away but Tigranes stepped on the chain connected to his neck, pinning him to the floor. He lashed Bolt with the staff until it broke, then jabbed at him with the splintered end until aides dragged the King away. Bolt lay sobbing and bleeding in the filthy straw.

....

Cornelius and the three Burrus brothers stood with a group of other Centurions as Julius Verus and Decius Crispinus gave them the news.

"They're beating on him," Julius said. "They won't let him eat or sleep. They said they're going to flail and crucify him in front of us."

"He's a Roman!" somebody shouted.

"He's an Antony!" someone else responded.

"No shit! But do they care?" Crispinus snapped.

Cornelius raised his hands to speak.

"All of you, think on this. What did they do to Crassus' men? They killed and enslaved all of them, including officers! If they'll do this to an officer who's just shy of Imperial, what will they do to us?"