Near Susa, July 248
The Parthian army more of a disheartened mob than an army. Outnumbered, outmatched, surrounded, with Romans guarding the walls of Susa and Romans behind the rear guard, with allies defeated or having defected and currently ravaging the country on their path home, it was clear that the empire had been defeated, again, by the Romans.
Vahram I, son of Ardeshir II, shahanshah, knew he had lost. The question was whether his life was also forfeit… One good news was that a lot of the Empire’s nobles had fallen in the fighting, either in the failed assault on Babylon’s wall, where many had wanted place of pride, or later in rear-guard operations to protect the army.
But that would be a problem for later. Maybe later in the day, but later anyway. For now he had to go to the Romans and ask for peace. Messages had been sent on the previous day to the commander of the Roman forces, and a large tent had been set between the Parthians and the main roman army.
This was of course humiliating, but there was no way around it if Varham wanted the Parthian empire to have any kind of army in the future, irrespective of whoever ran it. Sitting on his horse in court dress instead of armour, surrounded by twenty of his highest surviving counsellors similarly attired, he went to the rendezvous point.
Under the tent was an empty golden roman curule chair set on a dais, behind which was a gilded portrait of the emperor. Obviously the man had not been able to reach this border of his empire in time or maybe he had stayed on another of the attacked borders. In any case he would not be meeting the shahanshah on this occasion.
Just below the days was another roman chair, this one silver, next to which were three others made of ivory, set just slightly behind the silver one. Obviously the seat of the roman commander in chief and of the legion commanders. Three of them, that was a lot… Yet even with their attached auxiliaries it seemed too few men for a disaster of the scale which had befallen the empire. The Parthian empire had mobilized many more men, they should have been able to… well, no gain in ressassing the past, not when the present was so important.
Chairs had also been provided for the Parthians : a high backed one for the shahanshah, simpler ones for the other nobles, all in exquisitely carved citrus wood, but pointedly not in metal or ivory, which the Romans reserved for themselves.
They did not have to wait long. A man in a senatorial toga, with the usual red shoes, large purple band and iron ring, entered the tent followed by three men in elaborate armors. Around them were twelve lictors who wore their fasces on their shoulders and took place behind the dais and the Roman officials, a sign of power but set in a non-threatening way, or as non-threatening as could be.
Two priests entered the tent from both sides and did a quick ceremony to ensure the benevolence of the Gods over the meeting before retreating as quickly as they had come. It was time. Speaking in his slightly accented greek, the Shahanshah opened the discussions.
Three hours later it was done. The empire had capitulated, Susa and the lands around it down to the Mesopotamia would become a Roman protectorate under a petty king appointed in Rome from a local dynasty, the Empire had to pay a large sum of gold and large quantities of silks and spices, and to give a lot of hostages, including twenty of his principal rivals at court… Five of them had been present during the negotiations and stayed behind to ensure compliance with the terms.
A disaster, yes, but maybe not the end of Vahram I’s rule…