Chapter 8:The Second
Persian Campaign

"Kill at will!" The Persian King commanded his generals
to pass the order down the chain of command.

Narseh and his Persian war-horses had trampled the
Roman defenses of Galerius for over a year. The Persian King
Narseh was a large, thickset man, with a mop of black locks and
dark features. He was a skilful statesman, with a natural
inclination to adapt diverse situations on the battlefield to his
advantage. He was the son of Shaper, who had captured Emperor
Valerian in AD 260. Following in his father's footsteps, he had
pushed an aggressive campaign against the Romans that was
according him victory.

After Galerius received a taste of the new Parthian power
under Narseh at Carrhae, the Roman forces fell prey to the
Persian soldiers throughout the disputed region in the East. After
the debacle at Carrhae, Narseh had a larger and stronger army
under him than Galerius. Within a two year span, Narseh
occupied western Armenia, and effectively invaded Syria and the
surrounding regions. The Roman army fell in defeat and was
simply trampled by the Persian war-horses.

Shortly after publicly humiliating Galerius, Diocletian
returned to Egypt, to continue restructuring the country's
political and economic situation. Northern boundaries were
redrawn and new troops posted along the frontiers. The emperor
constructed religious shrines and garrisons throughout Egypt. He
asserted Roman control by placing trustworthy individuals in
positions of power in various regions. By spring, he was on a
ship ascending the Nile. His destination was the place where the
Nobatae and Blemmyes would meet in order to parley.
Eventually, they agreed upon a peace treaty that would be upheld
for more than two hundred years.

While Diocletian settled political matters in Egypt,
Constantine continued to serve as an officer in Galerius' army.
The tension between the son of Constantius and the Caesar
Galerius lessened minutely.

The Roman defeat by the Persians having humbled the
Caesar, Galerius expressed a tacit respect toward Constantine.
Severus and Maximinius were ordered to keep their distance and
not disturb Constantine and his men. The soldiers in general
were impressed by Diocletian's favor towards Constantine,
which gave him the credibility and the respect of other officers in
Galerius' army. Constantine trained his troops in his spare time,
and wrote to his wife and father. Since he was better accepted by
Galerius, now he no longer was overly concerned about
censoring his words.

The split reed shook in the air, controlled by Constantine's
callused fingers. The hard tip turned red with dye and was used
to scribble Greek letters onto the papyrus. A postal messenger
with a plumed helmet and armor waited for Constantine to
conclude. He signed it at the bottom and laid the reed on the
marble countertop beside him. He rolled both letters and then
tied them with a cord. Constantine placed the tip of a white wax
tablet under the candle flame until it melted to liquid on the end.
He pressed it onto the rolled parchment of two letters. He took a
ring off his finger and pressed his monogram on the hot wax. He

jotted the letters addresses and placed them on a second tag
attached to the cords. They were complete and ready to be sent.

Constantine held the two rolled letters in one hand over his
shoulder for the messenger to take them. The papyrus slid from
his hands and entered the messenger's satchel that was filled
with letters of the soldiers, expressing their yearning for home.
The messenger took one step before being stopped in mid-stride
by Constantine's braced arm.

"Make sure these reach their destinations," Constantine
said. "It's the only link we have to our families."

"Yes, sir. I too have a family and a duty," the messenger
said reassuringly. He swung the drab satchel over his shoulder
and headed for the stables. The thoughts and emotions of
hundreds were in his hands.

The wait for a new army from the Danube had finally
come to an end. As the messenger took to the gallop on the
postal road, reinforcements entered the court. A clamoring
through the court signaled their arrival. The men, including
Constantine, hurriedly stripped off their togas and put on their
ceremonial armor. The sharp sound of hooves and voices brought
new life to the court. The soldiers rushed out into the field to
greet their comrades, colleagues, and Roman brothers.

The arriving troops were lined in tier formation, gazing
upon Galerius' army as it organized its various cohorts into
ceremonial arrangements. Dust settled on polished armor, with
the odor of sweat and livestock lingering in the air. Constantine's
cavalry regiment was set in position, with Licinius and
Constantine in the front. The visitors couldn't help but detect a
sense of mirth from the army, as their Caesar drove his chariot
up to the officer in charge of the guest legions. Constantine's
hidden jocundity was even greater than that of the surrounding

troops for he realized that the new arrivals came from his father's
army, the other and more successful Caesar.

The formalities took place and the armies welcomed each
other with glee. Soldiers who had known each other from
previous campaigns were reunited, as Constantine trotted along
past the jolly embraces of men in armor.

Even Galerius was with a few officers he had known from
the victorious past. He glanced over Severus' shoulder at the
lonely son of a Caesar.

Constantine rode along looking for a familiar face, but
found none. His regiment had dispersed and located old friends.
He was alone.

From the clamor of the dismounted troops, emerged the
sound of hooves thumping the ground in a canter.

Constantine pulled hard on the reins of his black-maned
horse and faced the approaching cavalryman. Without warning,
the rider forced his chestnut gelding to come to an abrupt halt. It
tucked in its haunches while its hooves plowed into the ground,
flinging a dust cloud onto Constantine. The two horses and riders
stood in silence with the cloud of dust masking each other's
appearance.

Constantine was angry, believing that some unknown
soldier had deliberately treated him with disrespect, perhaps
mistaking him for another man.

Although it was disrespectful as well as deliberate, there
was no mistake. The dust between them faded, baring the fierce
expression of anger on Constantine's face.

He looked at the matted helmet that rested at the hip of the
soldier in front of him. He was blinded by his anger, overlooking
his foe's familiar auburn hair as he stared him in the eyes.

"Ah, poor, poor Constantine," said the other man with a
grin. "Still irate about one thing or another." He laughed. "Come
and drink with me like you did when you first became a man."

Constantine was confused. His eyes widened as he leaned
toward the other man.

"No," he said doubtfully. "Cassius?" Constantine joined
his friend in laughter, adding to the surrounding din. His friend
had aged. His face had wrinkles and his auburn hair was streaked
with gray. Yet, he still had that sinister smile, as if he were about
to play a prank.

Constantine beat him to it. Caught between breaths, he
leaped from his horse and tackled Cassius, forcing him to the
ground.

"Some things never change," said Cassius with the little
breath that was left in his lungs.

Constantine kissed his cheeks and helped him up, glancing
at his uniform. "Moved up in rank I see," he said admiringly. He
dusted off his friend, who was bent over and desperately
attempting to inhale.

"What did you think, I was going to remain a decurion for
the rest of my life?" Cassius tried to inhale, coughing out his
efforts.

"Didn't I tell you that when the wind is taken from you,
you should exhale the rest before inhaling again?" Constantine
rubbed his chest and back to help him to regain his breath as
Cassius tucked his hands behind his head. "Same stone headed
Cassius. You're right, some things never change." Now that
Cassius had regained his breath, Constantine punched him lightly
in the stomach. Cassius inadvertently flinched. "Ah, poor, poor
Cassius, still afraid of a little pain," he mocked.

"I see you are now in command of a regiment.
Congratulations," Cassius said. They held onto their horses' reins
and led them along to the stables.

"Well, I've been demoted to a certain extent. The emperor
allowed me to exercise more authority than this Caesar. I was
even placed in the position of a general, although unofficially,"
he said proud of his accomplishments.

"That is impressive, my modest friend," Cassius joked.
"What I really want to know is, have you laid with a woman?"
He jumped back. "I am too old to receive a thrashing, so please
answer me with civility."

"Yes," he said calmly. "I am in fact married, and I have a
two year old son." He looked behind him where Cassius had
come to a stop. "Does that satisfy your prurient interests?"

"My what? We need to discuss this over some wine. I
must be numbed first." Cassius walked up to him. "With all due
respect, I have never seen chastity to a greater extent than that of
you and your father," he said, shaking his head. "However can
you do it?"

They walked off alone to the stables, talking as they
entered.

"What do you think of the Caesar?" Constantine inquired.

"Who, your father?" he said. "Because I only know what I
have heard about Galerius."

Constantine shook his head. "I don't care what you think
of Galerius. I already know of his arrogance not to ask that
question. My father, how is he?" Constantine asked curiously.
"And don't hold back because I'm his son."

Cassius leaned down and whispered in Constantine's ear.
"Very fatherly. He is good to his soldiers, especially those in
command. More importantly, and what sets him apart from the
rest, is his openness and outgoing nature, and the way he helps
the people of the frontier. He is a good man."

Constantine smiled as he tied the reins of the horses to the
stable post. "Yes, he's also intelligent. If you make friends with
your enemy, they become your ally."

Cassius scratched the back of his head. "I never thought of
it that way."

The rays of the moon beamed down to Antioch, whose
confines were defunct of an army for a fourth night. Cassius
confirmed what Constantine had expected—that Galerius was
not liked by the new troops from the Danube. His orders to his
men were rough and obtuse. He was aggressive as a tyrant to

those who served him. He instilled fear and hate to such a degree
that it was almost a science. His anger and aggression were
reflected by his troops, who, because of their choleric Caesar,
had become fierce men, eager to kill in order to relieve the
tension. Ironically, Galerius had become their motivation and the
Persians were to become their therapy.

The hooves of Cassius' roan gelding raised a cloud of
umber as it galloped to Constantine's regiment. Licinius met him
at the front with Constantine. Cassius reined in hard with a
somber expression.

"The Caesar is ordering his disreputable army into the
Caucasus," he informed them with contempt.

"A bold move, don't you think?" Licinius responded.

"I do not make the orders. I just report them," he said
angrily.

"But you are a junior officer, not a messenger," Licinius
said.

"As are you," he said, tugging his reins to turn his horse.
He glanced over at Constantine. "The Caesar has decided to give
me special duties, demeaning as they may be." He jerked the
reins back in Licinius' direction. "If we both live through this, I
would gladly discuss our rank and its real purpose at more length
over a carafe of wine. As for now, I must deliver the message
down the line." He galloped on to the next cohort.

"Galerius is treating him in this fashion because he knows
that Cassius is my friend," Constantine said. "Return to your post
before Galerius sees us and demotes you as well."

The troops with horses, supplies and artillery, traversed
the switchbacks of the Caucasus Mountains, which had been
deemed safe by scouts. Thousands of men climbed the narrow
trail, like ants through the limbs of trees with drops of nectar on
their branches. For the Roman army, the attraction was also
nectar, the sweet taste of victory through the spilling of Persian
blood.

The army was purposely exposed as a part of Galerius'
plan. The route was unfit for warfare, yet it revealed from many

vantage points the arrival and size of the Roman army. Within
the ranks, the men questioned the very nature of the Caesar's
plan, although no one dared challenge Galerius officially.
Constantine kept to himself, comprehending the risk involved
and realizing the ultimate goal. Galerius was attempting to draw
in Narseh's army, after Persian scouts reported the information
back to their King. By the time they reached the summit of the
mountain range, the plan was working.

Guerilla fighters joined the ranks with little persuasion by
the Romans. Camouflaged in the hilly brush, hundreds emerged
from the side of the mountain. Galerius offered them monetary
compensation, but they refused. Instead, they wanted to be left in
peace in exchange for the help they would provide during the
Persian conflict. These rustic people had deep animosity for
Persian troops who had raped and killed fellow members of the
mountain community. Galerius, the tyrant, agreed to their terms,
and the guerillas entered the army, playing a significant role in
the first battles.

As a result of the locals' vast knowledge of the region, the
army was split into three groups as they approached a plateau.
Persian troops observed Galerius on his chariot, leading the bulk
of his men into the field with flags and snake standards flying
overhead, as if utterly unsuspicious that he might be leading his
army into a trap. In the meantime, two separate lines of Roman
and guerilla fighters moved in opposite directions, eventually
surrounding the plateau.

It seemed as though the entire mountain came alive with
guerillas that sprang from the foliage as the Roman army reached
its position.

Constantine was informed of the location by a messenger
and took the liberty of notifying the Caesar immediately. He
approached a decurion in his regiment.

"You, sir, I am assigning a special task."

The man's hazel eyes concentrated on Constantine's lips.

"Ride with all speed to the Caesar and tell him that the
enemy is located north by northeast of his final position. You

will fight under the direct command of the Caesar today. Now,
go with the gods," he shouted as the man galloped away along
the narrow trail concealed by mountain foliage.

Licinius came from the rear of the regiment with a native
riding behind him on his horse.

"Sir, sir!" he called out to Constantine.

Constantine reigned up on the side of the trail. "What is it
then man?"

"This man knows the whereabouts ofNarseh's harem and
treasury," he said eagerly.

Constantine contemplated the idea of abandoning the
Caesar in battle. "How many enemy are there?"

The man on the back of the horse made a hand gesture to
Licinius. "He says roughly twenty-five to fifty."

"Very well. I will take a cohort of one hundred
cavalrymen, including ten decurions. I will need him." He
pointed to the man on Licinius' horse. He surveyed the long trail
of soldiers. "I am entrusting you with the lives and reputation of
the entire regiment. This is your opportunity to rise in rank. Take
advantage of it."

The native mounted Constantine's bay, whose spine was
strong enough for even a third person. They picked the men to
accompany them and rode off the trail into the thick mountain
bush.

The man directed Constantine's squad to a pass far from
the plateau. Without speaking he dismounted, and signed for the
troops to do the same. On their bellies they crawled to the top of
an embankment until they could see a spring where women from
the Persian King's harem were bathing. There were a dozen
guards admiring the women who giggled, flirting as they bathed.

Constantine ordered the decurions to meet him half way
down the embankment. They crawled to one spot and listened to
Constantine whisper a plan that he sketched in the moist soil.

"Take out the laces from your sandals," he ordered, doing
so himself. "Sentry removal, swift, silent and deadly.
Understand?" The men nodded. He pointed to three men. "Take

your squads around this end, and on my signal, you will silence
the women. When they are unconscious, stuff their mouths with
cloth. Remember, they are women and they are tender. No
female dies today." He waved his hand for the men to organize
their soldiers. He pointed to three more. "Pick three men to take
out the sentries. One sentry per man. Again, silence is golden.
Go! The rest of you stay back in case we are not successful and
will have to ward off the enemy." They crawled back up the
embankment, leaving their sandals behind.

They had positioned themselves just as the women were
dressing. All eyes were on Constantine, whose open palm swung
downward, signaling the attack. He leaped to his feet like the
others, swung the leather strap over the sentry's head, twisted,
pivoting one-hundred eighty degrees with his legs bent at
shoulder width, and lifted the enemy off the gound. The other
men simultaneously attacked the women, who were so
overwhelmed that only one scream escaped during the attack.

Soon the Persian men were dead and the women
unconscious.

"Take the women down the hill to the horses and tie them
together so they cannot escape," he said. "Two squads go with
them. One is to stay in the open, and the other is to be well
hidden. The rest of us infiltrate the treasury."

They followed the native man through the dense mountain
forest until they saw another flat area with tents, where soldiers
were eating. Constantine drew his sword from the sheath by his
side, as did the remaining troops. He raised it above his head,
took a deep breath and exhaled as he swung it downward. Like
phantoms from the forest, they emerged and engulfed the
unsuspecting royal bodyguards. Only one man was lost from
Constantine's regiment, and the treasury was discovered buried
in the ground under a Persian rug.

"Take the chest to the horses. The Caesar needs us,"
Constantine ordered. He threw a coin with the bust of Galerius
onto the rug, and then departed with his men. They dragged the
heavy golden chest embedded with jewels, to their rendezvous.

When Constantine had reached the horses, he found a few
of his posted soldiers fondling the women. He jumped out from
the others and hurled his body through the air until it collided
against the decurion whom he had left in command. On his knees
over the man, Constantine drove his muscular forearm into the
decurion's throat, as the other men watched in silence.

"These women are royalty. To harm them in any way is
punishable by death, which I will carry out with my own hands.
Let this be the last time that this happens." He stood over the
man and turned to the woman who had been his victim.

She forced a smile before Constantine gave his orders.

"Keep their hands tied and have them ride together on the
horses. I will take this one with me." He easily lifted her onto the
horse, and carefully mounted it with her behind him. "Let us go,
the Caesar awaits."

The battle was long over. Galerius had successfully drawn
the entire Persian army into the plateau area. The remaining
troops from the secret trails entered the battle as well,
outflanking the enemy troops and cutting off reinforcements. The
enemy was squeezed between legions until soldiers from the
Roman army trampled over the Persian corpses. Narseh, his
bodyguards, and a mobile regiment broke through the lines to
escape with their lives. Lifeless men from both sides were strewn
across the plateau, blood dripping from their lifeless bodies.

Constantine's regiment entered the plateau during the still
and grim time after battle. Soldiers had taken to the shade, or
were receiving medical attention at a tent station set up for
dressing wounds. The women closed their eyes on the back of
the horses, passing countless dead bodies on the way to the
headquarters. Constantine came to the emperor's guard.
Maximinius faced him with a youthful stare.

The Caesar's voice echoed drunkenly from the tent.
Constantine entered alone. Severus and Galerius drank in mirth
with a company of generals.

Constantine was enraged. He came down to one knee,
expecting the worst, yet prepared to justify his actions with the
captured evidence of his triumph.

Galerius waved the generals to clear the way for him.

"Somebody lost his nerve," he said laughing and drinking.

"At last, the coward has arrived," Severus screamed at the
top of his lungs.

Constantine's bare foot struck Severus in the throat with
such speed that no one had time to laugh from his comment. The
generals stood as if to defend the Caesar. Severus lay choking
next to his spilt chalice of red wine.

Constantine stepped on his fingers. "Next time you die,"
he calmly stated. His shin crashed against Severus' nose,
knocking his head back violently and while his body collapsed
unconscious.

"Sit," Galerius said to his council with a baleful grin.
"This better be good, Constantine," he said, sipping his wine.
"The lives of the troops you deserted depend on it."

Constantine inserted his thumb and forefinger in his mouth
to whistle. His soldiers entered, guiding the harem. The generals'
brows rose at the women.

"Is this all, Constantine?"

He whistled a second time and four soldiers carried in the
Persian treasury in the golden chest and knelt, placing it at their
Caeaser's feet.

Constantine opened it to display the* riches inside. "This is
Narseh's harem, and this was his treasury. I had the opportunity
to capture it with a small force, and I did just that." He looked
down at Galerius, who obviously wasn't yet satisfied. "These are
bargaining chips for negotiating a treaty without further
bloodshed and expense," he added.

"No," Galerius said angrily. "We continue our attack
tonight and for the nights to come until we reach Mesopotamia
and reclaim our honor at the spot where we were defeated."

Constantine shook his head, disgusted by the man's
obtusity. The generals looked on silently with their chalices
lowered.

"You are Caesar," he said facetiously. "I suppose nothing
else matters, except for that."

"You watch that rebellious tongue of yours before I have it
permanently removed," Galerius exclaimed. "I will conquer the
Persians first, and then when Narseh is in dire straits, he will beg
for me to take whatever I want." He sipped his wine.

"We may manage to push the enemy back as far as
Mesopotamia, but in the process we will lose lives and money,"
Constantine said.

"Look around you. We have plenty of lives," he pointed to
the chest, "-and a large treasury."

"Narseh will rebuild his army and have leverage in the
end," he said, knowing he was arguing in vain.

"We rest until tonight and then we continue our attack.

End of discussion."

Constantine was furious. His face was red and his soldiers
expected him to do something rash.

Galerius scratched his chin and pointed out a dozen
women. "These ones remain for me and my council. The rest...,"
his arms opened. "Well, there is always tomorrow."

Ignoring Galerius, Constantine marched the women out of
the headquarters. The Caesar drew his sword and came to his feet
after him. The generals blocked him from pursuing.

"Let him go. He has brought booty for you," one general
said convincingly. Another handed Galerius his chalice and
forced him to sit.

Severus slowly awoke to consciousness. Galerius kicked
him in the ribs. "Get up. You let a boy beat you!"

Constantine came to Licinius and Cassius who sipped
wine in the shade of a tree.

"There he is," Cassius said, smiling for the first time that
day. "Congratulations on your successful mission. Here, have
some wine," he said, offering his canteen.

"No, thank you. I have had enough already," he said,
referring to Galerius. "Do not drink too much. You will not be
able to fight tonight."

Licinius looked at him perplexed. "Say again?"

"The army is to attack tonight, regardless of my efforts."
Constantine sat between them on the ground. "Prepare for the
months to come. They are going to be bloody."

"Has he gone mad?" Cassius blurted out unintentionally.

"Wait," Licinius interrupted, "it all makes sense now."
The men leaned forward and listened to his whisper. "Galerius
ordered troops away from the perimeter earlier in the battle. That
is where King Narseh broke through and made his escape."

"Somehow, I am not surprised," Constantine said. "We are
going to be forced to fight a campaign to restore his honor at the
cost of the soldiers' blood. That, my friends, is the reality of the
situation."

"Now is the time to act," Cassius said intensely to
Constantine.

Licinius had a notion as to the tacit subject matter.
"Mutiny!"

Constantine listened silently.

"We can raise the troops who are already disgruntled, and
take over this camp."

"Who will take power then?" Constantine asked
rhetorically. "This would probably just secure a position for
Severus."

"No, Severus will be killed in the attack," Cassius said.

Constantine shook his head. "Most likely one of his
generals-or perhaps-all would attempt to seize the throne."

"Constantine, don't be a fool! As long as Galerius is alive
and Caesar, your future will always be in jeopardy," Cassius put
his arm on his shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

"He is Diocletian's Caesar. To attack him is to attack the
emperor. I will not be part of a mutiny, especially one that
involves undermining Diocletian." Constantine sat back, upset
and confused.

"You will not betray the emperor? The very person who
has destroyed your childhood and holds you hostage for your
father's obedience?" Cassius said sternly. "This man you will not
betray?"

Constantine came to his feet. "To betray him is to betray
my father, the soldiers, the empire!"

"I see too much time at the emperor's court has plagued
your mind," Cassius said. "Walk away from this and you walk
away from the opportunity to secure your future."

Constantine ignored him. "We discussed nothing here. It is
to go no further than our ears, and even that is too far," said
Constantine.

Licinius nodded.

"Go ahead walk away, loyal and blind servant of his
majesty, Galerius. We have said nothing today." Cassius broke
his canteen against a rock, spewing red wine onto the soil.

The umber earth was trampled by night and moistened by
day. Galerius had developed a new strategy that was proving him
triumphant. With the help of bribed locals, his army advanced
during the night and made camp in the day. At Adiabene, Media,
and Nisibis, the scorching sun beat down on the corpses of fallen
soldiers from both sides. It was Galerius who had the upper
hand. Narseh was running scared, without further reinforcements
and a weakening army.

The Persian King sent his ambassador to seek the return of
his wives and possibly negotiate a peace. Constantine, the
generals, and other high ranking officials were present when a
dark stout man, escorted by members of his private guard, met
with Galerius. The man spoke to him in Greek, and Galerius
responded in Latin.

"The king wishes to make peace with the Romans as soon
as possible. He has learned a new respect for the Romans and
will honor boundaries beneficial to both parties," he said with a
harsh accent.

"No peace," Galerius said simply.

The surrounding officials said nothing, as if they agreed in
full with their Caesar's decision. "You see my soldiers. There is
hate in their eyes. They wish to fight on and as a court official to
your king, I am sure you understand that it is just to appease the
army."

"If peace cannot be negotiated, I ask of you, chivalrous
and great leader that you are, to release his majesty's wives."

Galerius grinned. The ambassador knew he would have to
try harder.

"If I return without reporting some progress, the king will
have my head," he said pleadingly.

Galerius laughed momentarily. "I am a student of history.
The Emperor Valerian asked for chivalry also. The father of your
king gave it to him, by preserving the skin of the dead Roman
emperor to be seen by the population in every region of your
empire. Now, leave us before I take the liberty of sending Narseh
your head personally."

The ambassador left the camp with a false promptitude to
recount the failure to his king. Scouts followed him secretly to
the Persian headquarters and military barracks. Before he could
report, the Romans attacked. It was a double loss for Narseh,
who lost not only soldiers in his shrinking army, but also the
wives in his harem. The Persians continued to be forced back
through Mesopotamia. It was late October, AD 298. A dreadful
winter was in store for Narseh.

The frigid desert squall billowed from Nisibis to
Ctesiphon, following the Persian force. Galerius had been fierce
and ruthless to the bitter end. The last battle had been fought in
the Persian campaign. The Caesar had sent for Diocletian to
come from Egypt and join his victorious Roman army. The
rendezvous site for the parley was set at Nisibis.

It was the last day that Galerius' army would remain in the
farthest eastern limits of Mesopotamia that the Romans had
traversed. The Caesar ordered his officers to escort him along the
Euphrates River. Silence fell as their eyes surveyed ancient ruins.
There were broken slabs of chert strewn about in a vast area off
in the distance. Sand and soil were corrugated into definite
boundaries, with crumbled slates outlining a historic city.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" one officer asked doubtfully.

"No, it is there in front of us all," responded another.

"What is it?" Severus ignorantly asked.

"Babylon," Constantine replied, tossing his scarlet cloak
over his shoulder and leaving the group to wallow in confusion.
Galerius spoke with his eyes fixed on the retreating Constantine.

"The ancient city of decadence." He said acerbically. "It
was destroyed by the Hebrew god, the same deity the zealot
Christians worship." A few officials gazed at him in confusion.
"We Romans know it as the once great Chaldean Empire." Now,
the entire group understood. "Christians call it Babylon."

Galerius and the officers followed Constantine's path to
the army, which was awaiting the official order of departure. The
Caesar took the lead position in his chariot, and ordered the
trumpeters to signal the men to organize into cohorts. Camels
used to transport men during the campaign, as well as captured
elephants, were loaded with supplies and ready for departure.
The convoy formed in its usual disciplined manner, leaving
behind the conquered. The Caesar was en route to Nisibis, which
he would reach in time to meet with Diocletian and Narseh on
the established date, the vernal equinox.

The beams of the sun and later the moon, shone down
upon the momentous negotiations at Nisibis. Galerius had
redeemed himself as a successful subordinate to the emperor,
who came to the negotiations knowing well that the Caesar's
irascibility required the restraint of his own presence. The terms
of the peace treaty were harsh and Diocletian understood that the
cunning Persian King would never agree to all of them. Galerius
thought the opposite, ignoring the fact that Narseh had purposely
delayed the negotiations after his final defeat, in order to give
him time to rebuild his army. Backed by replenished troops, he
had leverage at the peace talks.

The meeting was held under a tarp outdoors in Nisibis.
The Roman entourage consisted of the emperor, Galerius to his
right, and high-ranking officials to the sides and back of them.
Similarly, the Persian retinue included King Narseh, the
ambassador with his head still intact, and intimidating military
officers. The clothing of both the king and the emperor had
reached a new level of flamboyancy, as they tried to outdo each
other. Both sides spoke in Greek. By nightfall, they had reached
a stalemate.

"Again, I will repeat the Roman terms for peace," Galerius
said in a last attempt to control his temper. "The new territory
will extend to the Tigris River, a perfect boundary for both
empires," feigning a smile. "The Caucasus are to be under
Roman authority. Dominion in the conquered lands and the
allegiance to Rome by the king of Iberia. Lastly, Nisibis will be
the sole town of trade in Mesopotamia-"

Before Galerius finished his sentence, Narseh shook his
forefinger in disapproval. His penetrating brown eyes bounced
from Caesar to emperor.

"Agreeing that Nisibis should be the main trade center
between the empires is absurd," said Narseh.

Galerius clinched his fists.

"However, in order to put an end to the senseless
bloodshed, I am willing to concede the five provinces, in return
for peace and a genuine respect for redrawn boundaries of the
empire."

Diocletian finally gave into the compromise. "We will
honor these terms and uphold our end of the treaty as long as the
Persian Empire doesn't threaten the territorial integrity of the
negotiated provinces."

They all rose to face each other for the last time. Narseh
bowed to the emperor, who returned the formal gesture as did his
officials. The Persian entourage galloped away under the clear
night sky, lit by a half moon.

Constantine and Diocletian were aware that the territory
granted to the empire was merely a facade for their real failure.
Narseh had departed from Nisibis far from defeated, in control of
trading rights that proved more significant in his region, since
declining Egypt posed minimal competition. After two years of
unnecessary slaughter, the Second Persian Campaign was over.