Companions (The Parthian Chronicles)

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few seconds, mumbling to himself as he did so.
    ‘I would estimate around a hundred a fifty rafts,’ he said.
    ‘How long will it take to construct such a number?’ I asked.
    Marcus looked at Domitus. ‘If I was provided with all the manpower required then less than a week.’
    ‘It is an ambitious plan,’ said Domitus.
    ‘But it is better for men and horses to arrive at their destination fresh as opposed to exhausted after a forced march,’ I said. ‘Build your rafts, Marcus.’
    The kingdom of Dura comprises two parts: the hundred miles of territory to the north of the city and the same length of ground to the south of the capital. The northern lands were heavily cultivated, being the realm of Dura’s score of lords, a group of hardened men who had fought the searing heat, scorpions, snakes and Agraci to establish their domains. Before I had come to Dura they had also been at war with Dura’s ruler, Mithridates. He had been a prince then but had already showed himself to be unfit for high office. The city had been established over two hundred years ago and had prospered greatly in the years that followed due to its location on the trade route between east and west. The royal estates to the south of the city had been cultivated and the earth had been turned green, with unending date palm groves running parallel to the Euphrates. But then the Agraci arrived like a plague of locusts and the estates had withered. But the date palms had remained.
    Now the Agraci were my allies and the lands to the south of Dura were slowly being restored to their former glory, but it would take many years, perhaps decades.
    The day after my meeting with Marcus and Domitus a new plague of locusts descended on the estates to the south of the city: thousands of sweating legionaries armed with axes and saws who began felling thousands of date palms so Marcus could build his rafts. The trees can grow up to a hundred feet in height and have trunks that are nearly two feet thick. Marcus and his engineers went among the trees and selected only the tallest for felling, marking each one with white chalk so Domitus’ men would know which ones were to be cut down. Not all the legionaries were allocated to felling trees. Half were detailed to haul the logs to the riverbank where the rafts would be assembled in the water.
    The logistics were simple if daunting: each raft would measure approximately ten thousand square feet, with two layers of logs laid on top of each other. The top layer would be at right angles to the timbers underneath, both layers lashed together with ropes, wooden wedges and nails. Each raft required one hundred and twenty separate logs – eighteen thousand to build one hundred and fifty rafts. And that did not include the steering arms that were mounted fore and aft. Nor did the amount of timber required take into account the planks that had to be fitted to the decks of the rafts that would transport the horse archers – twenty men and horses on each raft – so the animals would not suffer any leg injuries in the depressions between the separate logs.
    It took less than two days to fell eighteen thousand trees.
    ‘What about my boys?’ said Domitus as he stood with me on the riverbank observing the hive of activity that spread along the side of the Euphrates. ‘They might twist their ankles.’
    ‘They can watch where they put their feet,’ I replied. ‘Horses have a tendency to panic when they board rafts or boats and lose their footing.’
    ‘And elephants,’ said Domitus.
    ‘Elephants?’
    ‘Many years ago Rome was fighting a people called the Carthaginians.’
    Domitus stopped and pointed his cane at the nearest raft in the water, on which stood a party of legionaries who were being directed by one of Marcus’ engineers to lash the logs together. Though one had been forgotten and was drifting away from the bank.
    ‘Look lively,’ he shouted. ‘If that log escapes one of you will have to swim and get

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