The Flame of Destiny
Fire and Water

Vologast watched his troops deploy a couple of miles from the banks of the Tigris. He sat comfortably on a purpose-built mobile wooden tower, close to his massive imperial tent. A vast army stretched out before him and slowly advanced like a black tide engulfing the land.

“This time, we’ll not fail, we’ll crush them,” he said to his newly appointed Spahbed, “we’ll destroy them utterly.”

“We certainly will your highness,” replied the Spahbed, “we have more and better troops. We have two warriors for every one of your brother, not to mention that their strongest lord will switch sides when we call upon him. And if that wasn’t enough, we have a contingent of invincible war beasts such as the world has never seen.”

“Have you taken care of these savage Kurds as I asked?” said Vologast. “I consider them pesky insects, but I want nothing to stand in our way.”

We’ve sent our best Sarlashkar, Lord Roshan to Opis to block Rojan’s advance.

“I would rather have crushed him today with the others,” growled Vologast, “his very existence is an affront to our dynasty.”

“Sire,” said the Spahbed cautiously, “your courage and strategic insight are unsurpassed, but that would increase the risk of unexpected events. We aren’t quite sure of the traitor yet.”

“Don’t worry about him,” replied Vologast, “he got paid. He’ll wait for the last moment and create maximum confusion but he will turn.”

“That’s very reassuring lord,” replied the Spahbed, “but after our… um … withdrawal at Opis, there are some troops who… how should I put it, have not recognized our greater strategic design and have misinterpreted our tactical retreat from the bridge as a defeat. How can we be sure that the traitor still works for us when cowards and liars sow doubt?”

“Pfff,” sneered Vologast, “I almost wished he chose my brother’s side so I can teach him a lesson. I’d really like to see his face when we deploy our monsters.”

“Indeed sire, victory is assured. Nobody can resist them.”

A scout approached the wooden tower on a fast horse and shouted from below. “The enemy is approaching!”

“Go on,” said the Spahbed impatiently, “is that all you can tell me?”

“They are marching in full battle formation. Their prince… I mean that rebel Ardaban is commanding the right wing close to the river. They’ll be here within an hour or two.”

“Did you see Lord Suren’s banner?”

“Yes sire, but…”

“But.. but.. there’s always a but with you. What’s it this time?” complained Vologast impatiently, “why can’t you tell it like it is. I won’t cut out your tongue.”

“Suren is riding in the center, with only a small fraction of his troops. His companions and the other warriors seem to be scattered among the main army.”

The Spahbed looked anxiously at Vologast and whispered, “so he might have double-crossed you.”

“It’s a clever ploy,” replied Vologast confidently, making a motion as if he was driving off a troublesome fly. “He’s doing it to fool my brother and if he really double-crosses me, we’ll crush him with the orders. Now go and give orders to speed up preparations. I want my men ready for battle.”

A moment later another rider approached, arriving from the east. He struggled to keep his balance on his warhorse.

As the man approached the wooden tower, the Spahbed recognized the tough sarlashkar Roshan. “I told you to stay with the barbarians!” he shouted angrily. “What are you doing here?”

Roshan stopped near the tower and fell from his horse. Men came to his aid and helped him sit upright with his back against the base of a wooden pillar. They gave him some water which he drank with trembling hands.

The Spahbed climbed down to question the wounded man and implored Vologast to follow. “Roshan is too weak to come up Sire.”

Grudgingly and very slowly Vologast also climbed down. “I’m the Shah,” he grumbled, “I shouldn’t be climbing up and down this ladder.”

Vologast and his Spahbed listened to Roshan’s report. The embattled Sarlashkar only managed a weak whisper, but it sent shivers down their spines. “We were attacked,” he mumbled, “they came out of nowhere from all directions, there were thousands. We were completely surrounded, there was nothing we could do.”

“For Mazda’s sake, who attacked you?” asked the Spahbed impatiently, ignoring the blood that oozed underneath Roshan’s armor.

“Fierce demons on fiendish horses,” he replied, wincing occasionally when he could no longer bear the pain. “They’re invincible. I was spared so I could bring you this message.”

He handed a blood-stained papyrus roll to Vologast.

Vologast furiously grabbed the scroll and read the fine Greek scripture.

’To the usurper. Surrender now and endorse your brother as the true King of Kings. We grant you peace and will treat you with great generosity. We will keep you, your family, your officers, and your soldiers alive and refrain from plundering your cities. However, if you choose to continue the war that you have already lost, you will undergo our full fury and cannot be saved. We will unleash the destructive power of the four elements: fire, air, water, and earth. We will annihilate your army. Your soldiers will be killed by our long arrows. Your armor will be pierced by our sharp swords. Our tireless horses will chase you to the ends of the world. Our hearts will show no mercy.”

The letter was signed by Rojan the Madig of the Kurds.

“Typical barbarian grandstanding,” said the Sphabed haughtily, “pay no heed.”

Vologast was cooking inside. How can these pitiful goatherders defy the Shah of Shahs?

Roshan, too weak to stand, feebly pulled at his robe from below. “Sire, Sire,” he whispered with great effort.

“Shut up,” shouted Vologast furiously. “Where’s that savage Rojan,” he shouted angrily as he shredded the message, “I want him dead! I want to drink from his skull!”

“We’ll replace him,” said the Spahbed, “I’ll send scouts to locate him, and then we’ll send our cavalry. We’ll destroy his army and then we go to his lands and slaughter all his people.”

“Why is this happening?” whined Vologast in frustration, “all that fighting is such a waste. Why can’t my brother just admit that I’m the heir?”

“Sire,” the wounded sarlashkar murmured again.

“What now?” shouted Vologast.

“There he is,” he moaned and pointed north, “Rojan.”

“Impossible,” gasped the Spahbed, “his army is to the east.” He looked nevertheless and for the first time, he started to feel doubts about an easy victory. There, barely half a mile away, they could clearly see the silhouette of a large horse and a great warrior. His armor shone brightly in the sun as he stood on a low dike in otherwise flat surroundings. A second rider with long wavy hair came to his side.

“And that witch is there too,” growled Vologast, “what are they doing?

“Waiting for us to surrender,” suggested the Spahbed.

Vologast shivered. Is he really that powerful? With Kurds to the north and east, Ardaban to the west, and the river to the south, they were almost surrounded. Just what he had tried to avoid by sending his best general to block Rojan.

Then he reminded himself that he had a vastly larger army and an invincible contingent of specially trained war elephants. The Kurds were valiant warriors but too few to stand a chance. “Never will I surrender to these savages,” he shouted as he clambered back on the wooden tower. “Prepare for battle! I want them all dead. Let’s see what they can do with their ponies against our great horses and war elephants!”

Soldiers and officers ran in all directions with new orders to prepare for a battle on two fronts. The Kushan mercenaries that Vologast had brought over in secret from India, were informed about the approaching clash and told to hurry up their preparations with the elephants.

Roshan ignored the preparation and kept his gaze fixed on Rojan and Kallisto as if they were demons from the underworld. His entire body was trembling.

The Kurds watched them for a while from a safe distance. Without fear or anger. When it was clear that there was no surrender forthcoming, Kallisto rode off leaving Rojan to survey the enemy.

“And so it begins,” spoke Roshan grimly.

The Spahbed was restless and urged his men to hurry and complete their formation. It took too longer than anticipated as they had to redeploy to face an enemy on two fronts. Almost, he thought, our men are almost ready. Let these Kurds come, we’ll be waiting for them with our spears and shields in an unbroken wall of death. Then the cavalry will descend upon them like a diving falcon.

Streaks of light appeared in the gray sky from the direction of the Kurds. Dozens, no hundreds of flaming projectiles flew through the air like tiny fireflies. For a moment the soldiers recoiled, some raised their shields and a nervous shiver went over the army as they prepared for impact. Then a sigh of relief, the fiery projectiles landed far from the troops, so far away they couldn’t even see them come down.

“They think they scare us with flaming arrows,” scoffed the Spahbed.

“They’re not aiming for the soldiers,” said Roshan in a hoarse whisper.

“What do you mean,” he asked, “where are they aiming at?” The first volley had completely missed his army, yet the Kurds launched another volley. “They’re just wasting arrows,” mocked the Spahbed confidently. Then he heard a low rumble in the distance, a sound that wiped the grin off his face and made the hair on his back stand up.

“Too soon,” muttered Vologast to himself while pacing back and forth on his platform, “our troops aren’t ready yet! These damn Kushan, we pay them so much and still they don’t get it right. I told them to wait for my sign, damn it.”

He hastily called for an officer to issue new orders yet, the rumble only became louder. The ground trembled and the tower visibly shook.

“What’s happening?” shouted Vologast down from the tower, “why aren’t they turning.”

Panic broke out on the right flank of his army. He heard shouts and trumpets. “What’s going on?” he shouted but his voice drowned in the noise of a stampeding horde. The wooden colossus wobbled dangerously and the Shah had to grab the railing.

Then he saw them. The mighty animals that he paid so much gold for. The enormous war elephants from the distant land behind the Indus River. It was a sight he would never forget. They were bigger and fiercer than he had imagined in his wildest dreams.

They shook the earth with the impact of their feet. The trumpeting noise was like an army of demonic buglers. They crushed everything that was in their path. Small trees were uprooted, wooden carts splintered into pieces and brave warriors were trampled to death. Where they passed, there was destruction.

Only... they did not run toward the enemy.

“Stop them,” shouted Vologast, “you idiots. They’re coming at us.”

The desperate Kushan officers tried to turn the animals around. But they might as well have tried to drive back the sea. The elephants were gripped with a frenzied panic. The fire arrows stuck in their skin kept burning, increasing their terror and prolonging their agony.

Vologast’s army was still forming ranks, they were wholly unprepared to deal with a horde of panicked stampeding monsters. Officers desperately tried to get the soldiers to move aside, to no avail, hundreds were trampled. Many more fled the battlefield.

The prince cowered in a corner of his tower, with his eyes closed and holding the rails firmly with both hands. The construction rocked wildly back and forth but by some stroke of luck, it didn’t collapse.

[Picture elephants]

When the tremors finally stopped and the trumpeting elephants disappeared into the distance, the would-be King of Kings still cowered on the platform, glued to the wooden railing. Only when he was called by the Spahbed did he get up again.

Surveying the catastrophe, he clenched his fist then pulled at his beard. The elephants had blasted right through his army and left a broad swathe of destruction.

“We lost a lot of men,” said the Spahbed, “but we still have an army. We should pull back while we can. Today’s battle is lost.”

“No!” shrieked Vologast who regained his composure, “reform the battle lines. Just leave the dead and wounded where they are. We have no time for that. We’ll take our vengeance before the sun sets.”

“But Sire?”

“Do it, now... or do you want me to replace you?”

Reluctantly, the Spahbed issued the orders and the dazed and confused warriors slowly took up their new positions. But it took a long time, too long for the royal nerves. Vologast hammered the wooden handrail with his fists in frustration. Hurry,” he cried and pointed north, “The enemy can attack at any time. I can see them, they’re waiting on that ridge.”

In the distance, a long line of warriors stood on the crest. There were Kurds and Parthians and they could clearly see Rojan and Kallisto somewhere in the center as well as Ardaban.

“Why don’t they attack us?” asked the Spahbed, “we are vulnerable.”

“Because barbarians are cowards,” snarled Vologast, “they can only attack from a distance with arrows. They’re afraid of our sharp steel and our superior numbers. Our cavalry is still intact, so nothing is lost. Let’s charge them and finish this.”

Roshan, who was still looking at Rojan from his seated position was the first to see the Madig leave his position. “We have survived fire,” he said, “prepare for water.”

“What are you talking about?” asked the Spahbed.

“The message, don’t you remember? We will unleash the elements. Fire was the first.”

“Nonsense,” said Vologast who took full command now, “they’re just trying to scare us. Order our troops to advance in formation. Spears in the center, cavalry at the flanks. It’s a narrow ridge where they stand. It’s not even a hill. We can drive them off with one powerful charge.”

The Kurds calmly waited for the arrival of Vologast’s forces. When the enemy was in range, they fired some volleys. But not nearly as much as expected, they hid behind the large infantry shields they had captured at Opis and were invulnerable to the projectiles launched by their enemies.

Vologast smiled cruelly when he saw his men throw their spears and start their exhilarating charge. They sprinted the last thirty yards, shouting loud battle cries. The clash was going to be terrible.

The Kurds watched in silence. They formed a shield wall but it lacked strength. It was as if they didn’t care. It didn’t surprise Vologast, he knew the Kurds were no good in infantry battles.

A loud gushing noise could be heard and wiped the smile of Vologast’s face. It became stronger, drowning out the battle cries. “What new devilry is this?” he asked Vologast.

The water came suddenly and violently. It was as if the river flowed over his army. Entire divisions were swept off their feet. Even the horses couldn’t withstand the power of the elements and many were swept away by the current. They were dragged away in a torrent of mud and water.

The exhausted and desperate men that managed to grab onto the dyke, were pulled up by the Kurds and added to the mass of demoralized prisoners.

From his vantage point, Vologast saw everything happen as if it were a theatrical play. He wasn’t even sure if it was tragedy or comedy. The last wave shook the tower so violently that he lost his balance. He fell off the tower and crashed to the ground with his face sinking five inches deep in the mud.

“Allow me to help you,” suggested the Spahbed.

“You moron,” hissed Vologast furiously. He slapped at the outstretched hand and tried to get up but fell back on the slippery mud pulling the Spahbed down with him. They needed the help of five men to pull their bulk out of the wet sludge.

Vologast looked out over the plain, which had turned into a swamp with deep pools and large patches of mire. Thousands of spears and shields were scattered over the area. Exhausted soldiers stumbled through the puddles, here and there a lifeless hand or head protruded from the sludge. Only the cavalry in the rear and at the flanks seemed unharmed.

“Sire,” said the desperate Spahbed, “the horsemen are ready to obey your orders.”

Three men lifted Vologast on his tall warhorse and he immediately rode away from the battlefield.

The Spahbed caught up with him. “We can launch a counterattack with the cavalry,” he said, “so that our men have time to retreat.”

“No,” said Vologast, “I’ve had enough of your ideas. We withdraw to Babylon immediately.”

“But the foot soldiers ...”

“Those wretches can help themselves,” he snapped and spurred on his horse, “they haven’t shown any valor or grit today.”

He was followed by what was left of the cavalry while the foot soldiers and supporting troops were left to fend for themselves.

The Kurds pursued Vologast and the cavalry, leaving Ardaban to take care of the infantry. Kallisto and Rojan galloping at the front, eager to capture the enemy leader and finish the war.

Vologast rode straight through his own camp. Horses stumbled over tents and crashed into carts. Riders fell off their horses, Vologast would have stumbled if it wasn’t for his staunch bodyguards.

The Kurds were closing in and entered the camp. They could not believe their eyes. Gleaming armor, silk-draped tents, and chests with silver were everywhere. They had never seen such riches. First one, then another, stopped and gathered what valuables they could fund.

“Stop that,” shouted Rojan but it was to no avail. Before long they were all busy plundering the tents. Even Arak couldn’t resist the temptation. He came out of the royal tent wearing a golden tiara and carrying a silver chest in his arms. He granted noble titles to everyone that he passed and an especially large estate to the Kurds that offered him wine.

“We’ve got to continue the chase,” said Rojan, “we’re letting Vologast escape.”

Kallisto shook her head. “It won’t happen,” she said, “let them have their fun. They deserve this. Vologast has lost.”

Rojan reluctantly had to agree.

“I promote you to Satrap of Babylonia and Fars,” said Arak joyously and then waved a golden scepter, “and I grant you the right to have your first pick of the plunder. What will it be?”

“Stop this nonsense,” shouted Rojan.

“He’s right,” said Ardaban who had come to congratulate the Kurds, “choose whatever you want. Gold, jewelry, horses. You deserve it.”

“I would like to have the palace tent,” said Kallisto.

“You’ll have it for your loyalty and bravery,” said Ardaban and bowed to the Kurdish couple, “and a full share of the other plunder.”