Shapur's Night Attack on Caesar

Not much time passed in those days before his army swelled to six thousand men. Shapur sent out experienced scouts, seasoned chiefs, toward Ctesiphon, so they might bring word of Caesar, of that mighty court and its splendor. The scouts set off suddenly and secretly searched out how things stood in the world. They saw everything and came back, returning to their proud, exalted king. They said: Caesar is lost in wine and hunting; he gives no thought at all to battle. His army is scattered on every side, out plundering in all directions. By day he keeps no advance guard, by night no watchman; his whole army is like a flock without a shepherd. He sees no enemy anywhere; living carelessly has become his delight. When Shapur heard this, he rejoiced; all his troubles blew away from his heart like wind. He picked three thousand of the Iranians, men in mail, in armored barding, all on horseback. On a dark night he pulled his coat of mail across his chest and led his forces toward Ctesiphon. Through the dark nights he hurried swiftly on; when day broke, he turned his face aside to rest. He rode on through desert and mountain, along that trackless path with his band. More than two leagues ahead of the army his lookout ranged, through pathless ground and road alike. So it went, until, near Ctesiphon, the advance guard pressed on ahead. He reached the enemy camp after two watches of the night had passed; he felt no fear of Caesar in his heart. From that frontier he heard the sound of war drums, the cry of watchmen like the crowing of roosters. A whole plain was full of tents and pavilions, yet no one there had any idea of this raid. Caesar lay drunk with wine in his royal tent, and in that region the army kept no proper post. When Shapur saw the world lay so unguarded, he gave his brave warhorse free rein. He drove his army into the enemy camp, raised his hand and swung his heavy mace. The blast of trumpets rose to the clouds, with the clang of maces and the ring of Indian bells. War cries went up on every side; the clash of blades broke out all around. You would think the sky had split apart and blood of the sun dripped down through the air. There was the flashing of the royal banner of Kaveh in the dark night, and the gleam of violet-blue swords. You would think the air was raining down blades and the whole world was wrapped in fog. The mountain vanished behind the dust of the army; the stars drew in their skirts and hid. Shapur turned the tents of the helpless Caesar upside down, into utter ruin. In every corner they set fires; they seemed to slam the sky down upon the earth. In the end Caesar was taken prisoner, and his lucky star turned away from him. And from those tents, his famous men, his brave and chosen riders, they seized many and put them in chains. Such is the way of the lofty turning heaven. Sometimes it lifts a man high, sometimes it brings him low; sometimes joy, and sometimes terror. It is better to be harmless and humane, for then the Maker of the world stands as your helper.