Fall of Empires

Chapter 14

The tiger standard of the Great King had been raised before Antioch. It stood as tall as the main mast of the greatest war ship and the banner billowed out from the cross-piece like a sail. Its purple fringed edges fluttered in the breeze. Romanus wondered idly how many tigers it had taken to create the banner. Having never seen a live tiger, he was unsure as to how large the beasts were. It was an impressive standard at any rate. Impressive too was the Great King's campaign tent, which rose from the centre of the disorderly Persian camp like a great basilica of gold and purple silk. Also noteworthy were the twenty battle elephants that had paraded past the city. The terrific din of their trumpeting had rebounded from the walls. Yes, it was all very impressive. 

Romanus however observed more than the pomp and splendour of the king’s army. As he looked out from the walls he grew increasingly confident. The initial misgivings he had felt when his soul had quailed at the appearance of a huge dust-cloud on the horizon, had now given way to a quiet self-assurance. This was not an army that the King of Persia had brought to Antioch, having broken off his tour of his new dominions to march westwards in fury.

It was a circus.

With the exception of the small detachment of armoured horsemen whom he presumed to be the king’s personal bodyguard, Romanus had observed no other Savaran. No banners signalling the presence of the great lords of Persia fluttered above the camp, which in contrast to the orderly layout of Shahrbaraz’s encampment, was chaotic in the extreme. When Khusrow had paraded his army before the walls, just out of bowshot, Romanus had observed the slovenly disorder in their ranks. He had also noticed only the occasional glint of armour. This was an army of peasants, a rabble. There was no sign of any siege engines and so he assumed that no engineers or sappers were present with the army.

All of the Great King’s fighting troops were far away, either engaged in subduing Egypt or scrambling back eastwards to defend their homeland from the unexpected incursion of the emperor Heraclius. The King of Persia must be hoping simply to terrify the inhabitants of Antioch into submission, or else sit and wait outside the walls until reinforcements could arrive from Egypt. With his own kingdom under threat however, surely Khusrow would be in a hurry to settle matters?

These were the thoughts that ran through Romanus’ mind as he watched a single horseman in polished scale armour making his way towards the Daphne Gate from the Persian encampment, holding aloft a strip of white cloth tied around a spear shaft as a sign of truce. Romanus made his way down from the ramparts as the envoy was admitted to the city and the gates were secured behind him. The Persian was ushered into the small guardroom within the gatehouse and looked the portly Romanus up and down with a disdainful air. Romanus returned the tall Persian’s scrutiny with what he hoped was a similar expression. The Persian held his gaze for a few moments before speaking in passable Greek.

‘The Great King Khusrow, son of Hormuz, Lord of the Four Corners of the Earth, demands the immediate surrender of this city, which has rebelled against him in spite of his benevolence.’

‘What if we are not inclined towards surrender?’ Romanus asked, attempting to appear the very embodiment of defiance. He must not show any hint of the desperation that he felt to reach an agreement which would ensure his own safety, no matter what the fate of the city or populace.

‘Then not one stone shall be left standing upon another.’

‘And the people? What of them?’

‘Their blood shall run in rivers.’ The Persian’s tone remained chillingly matter-of-fact, as if discussing the weather or the price of grain.

Romanus was unperturbed. This was empty posturing and they both knew it.

‘And if we agree to surrender? What terms do you offer?’