Crassus next received word from his ally, King Artavasdes of Armenia, along with 6,000 Armenian cavalry. The king advised Crassus to invade Parthia by way of his realm-the Romans would then be provisioned by the Armenians, and the hilly country of that land would be unfavorable to Parthian cavalry. Inexplicably, Plutarch wrote, Crassus refused that offer, and returned the king but cold thanks.

Crassus’ blunders continued. He advanced to the city of Zeugma on the Euphrates and crossed to the east bank. He was advised by his lieutenant, Gaius Cassius Longinus (better known to history for his role in cutting Julius Caesar’s ambitions down to size on the Ides of March, nine years later) to advance along the Euphrates towards Seleucia, having his flank protected and his water supply guaranteed by proximity to the river. Crassus paid no attention. Instead he was taken with a local Arab chieftain named Ariamnes, who persuaded Crassus that only a token force of Parthians, commanded not by King Orodes but by a General Surena, was nearby to oppose him.

Ariamnes, of course, was a spy, sent to lead Crassus into a trap, but Surena was in fact the Parthian commander-and an interesting character in his own right. Though not yet 30 years old, he was deemed the second man in the kingdom and had had the honor of placing the crown on King Orodes’ head. Wherever he traveled, even to battle, he required 1,000 camels to carry his baggage, 200 wagons to transport his concubines, and was accompanied by 1,000 armed bodyguards. Crassus agreed to engage Ariamnes as a guide through the Mesopotamian desert. Leaving the river, the Arab guided the Romans along a way that was at first pleasant and easy but afterwards very troublesome by reason of the depth of the sand, Plutarch wrote. Indeed, the Romans soon found themselves in a sea of sand with no water in sight. While Crassus was on the march, fresh word arrived from King Atavasdes: He was under attack by a Parthian force under King Orodes himself, and was not able to send the reinforcements he had promised. Once again, the Armenian urged that Crassus withdraw from the desert and renew the attack from Armenia, where their forces could be joined on friendly ground. Plutarch wrote that Crassus, out of anger and perverseness, decided that this was actually treachery on the part of the Armenians. He returned no answer, but promised to revenge himself on Armenia when he was through with Parthia. Things went from bad to worse. Crassus’ Arab guide vanished. The Romans found themselves stranded in the Mesopotamian desert, not far from a little town called Carrhae. Some of the army’s scouts, now battered and bloodied, came in to report that their comrades were dead, and that they themselves had barely escaped. The Parthian army was nearby, they said, and ready to attack.

That revelation, according to Plutarch, left Crassus struck with amazement and initially paralyzed. Then, in something of a panic, he shuffled and re-shuffled his troops, finally settling on a square formation. Each side of the square was manned by 12 heavy cohorts (roughly 6,000 infantry to a side), with a troop of cavalry between each pair of cohorts. The baggage train occupied the interior of the square. The army then blindly and awkwardly marched ahead, and in a rare stroke of good luck stumbled upon the Balissus River. The parched troops were at least able to refresh themselves before the battle.

Most of Crassus’ officers were for staying by the river and awaiting the Parthian attack. But young Publius Crassus persuaded his father to advance toward the enemy. The Romans did so and, eventually confronting the Parthians, were pleasantly surprised to find that the enemy did not appear so numerous as they had feared. Unknown to them, however, Surena hid the main body of his army behind the first rank, and had them conceal the glittering of their armor. Then, at a signal, the Parthians threw off their cloaks and raised a clamor of kettle-drums that Plutarch described as producing a hideous noise that had a psychological impact on the legions.

Surena made the first move, but when a charge by his cataphracts, proved unable to break the Roman line he had them withdraw, feigning disorder and confusion. His cavalrymen then swiftly surrounded the Roman square. With his cumbersome infantry formation unable to counter Surena’s maneuver, Crassus ordered a cavalry charge, but the Romans were met with a shower of arrows that Plutarch said passed through every kind of covering, hard and soft alike. Once they had broken and repulsed the Roman cavalry, the Parthians were easily able to pour arrows into the infantry square, for, indeed, the order of the Romans was so close, that they could not miss.

To maintain his punishment of the Roman legions, Surena had cleverly arranged for a running supply train of camels to keep his horse archers resupplied with arrows. Seeing no end to the deluge of arrows that assailed his men, Crassus, was compelled to send his son Publius, with 6,500 men, including the Gallic cavalry, on a desperate counterattack. The sally seemed to succeed at first-the Parthians fled and Publius exultantly detached his cavalry in pursuit. But that apparent retreat was just another feint, for when the Romans had been lured a sufficient distance from the square the Parthians suddenly turned and reappeared in force. Plutarch described how they then rode round and round Publius’ force, raising such a cloud of dust that the Romans could neither see nor speak to one another. Isolated and encircled as his father’s square had been, Publius’ men were packed in too close, and were easy pickings for the horse-archers. When Publius tried to rally his troops for a counterattack, they showed him their hands nailed to their shields, and their feet stuck to the ground.

Publius was able to rally some of his Gallic cavalry, though, and they managed the closest thing to a genuine Roman success in the whole sorry campaign. The fierce Celts were able to seize the cataphracts’ lances and drag them to the ground, where the Parthians’ heavy armor rendered them helpless. Some Gauls dismounted and crept under the Parthian horses, which they disemboweled, unhorsing the riders. Those tactics, however, could only delay the inevitable. Publius was severely wounded and was dragged away by some survivors to a nearby hill for a last stand. Two of Publius’ friends urged him to flee with them to Carrhae, but he courageously decided to stay and die with his troops. When the hill was finally overrun, Publius ordered his armor-bearer to run him through.

Back at the square, Marcus Licinius Crassus had received no word from Publius, because all of the latter’s messengers were slain. Then the horrifying drumming began again, and Crassus finally learned his son’s fate. The Parthians rode forward with Publius’ head on the point of a spear, and, Plutarch wrote, scoffingly inquired where his parents were, and what family he was of, because it was impossible that so brave and gallant a warrior should be the son of so pitiful a coward as Crassus.

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