“Don’t be so sure.” I had not planned on saying anything, but as usual, the numen inside me took over. “Although it’s from a different cause, your story sounds similar to my own, and the time I was away with the 6th did nothing to make things any easier.”
“You’re talking about Domitius, I presume?”
I nodded.
“He’s a good man,” Balbus said quietly.
“As is Torquatus,” I replied.
With that, we toasted each other, men who for different reasons had suffered the same result, the loss of their nearest and dearest friend, not to a blade but to affairs of the human heart.
~ ~ ~ ~
I was almost immediately overwhelmed in my new role of Primus Pilus of a full Legion, causing me to begin fretting about the appearance of Diocles, finally recognizing how much I had come to rely on him. During the interval, I appropriated slaves with experience in the daily running of the Legion from the other Centurions. Zeno had died of an illness while the Legion was camped outside Rome, or I would have used him, despite his light-fingered ways. Still, it was not the same as having Diocles with me, so I am afraid that my temper was very much on the raw with not just the slaves, but anyone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The larger situation did not help my mood either. Weather was atrocious, seemingly unending days of unfavorable winds accompanied by fits of rain that made the camp a morass of mud that clung to everything. Despite Caesar’s impatience, this weather was still a blessing because it allowed time for all the forces he had sent for to arrive, since some were coming from as far away as Egypt, the 28th in particular. When I heard this news, while I was happy at the thought of seeing Cartufenus again, I was not particularly thrilled with the idea of the 28th being part of the invasion, the memory of their performance in Alexandria still fresh in my mind. The 25th, 26th, and 29th were coming as well, along with the rest of the Spanish Legions, though so far only the 10th had arrived. Other issues facing Caesar were shipping, along with supply, neither situations being sufficient for his plans or ambitions, but that never stopped Caesar and finally, he could take it no longer. The day after Saturnalia, I was ordered to load four Cohorts of the Legion, all that fit on the available shipping, along with Caesar, the cavalry and some auxiliaries, about 3,000 men total. As he had at Brundisium, Caesar ordered all unnecessary baggage to be left behind, along with body slaves, which did not affect me in any way since Diocles had not arrived. We put out to sea, where almost immediately, the choppy conditions we had experienced in the harbor and immediately surrounding waters turned to heaving seas, sending a number of men to the side. I had finally gotten to the point where my stomach was, if not accustomed to sea voyages, at least inured to the point where it took a full-blown storm before it finally rebelled. That is not to say that I was comfortable; I certainly was not, but I was happy that the voyage was fairly short, or at least so I thought. The distance to cover was a little more than a hundred miles by sea, yet it took five full days before we dropped anchor at Hadrumentum, after hugging the coast, only stopping briefly at a number of points while Caesar decided the best place to land.
At Hadrumentum, the gates were closed to us, the garrison commander, one Gaius Considius, having close to two Legions’ worth of men manning the walls and gates, so we made camp in sight of the walls of the city, while Caesar went surveying the city defenses. Also, as we were making camp, scouts were sent out into the countryside, and they came back to report that a second force composed of mostly cavalry approached from the direction of Clunea. This was one of the points we had stopped for Caesar to scout and had rejected because it was too heavily defended, so they had obviously been alerted, understanding who we were and what we were about. One of the Tribunes with us, Lucius Plancus, made a suggestion to Caesar that he try to talk Considius over to our side, since Plancus knew him from before the civil war, to which Caesar agreed. Caesar wrote a letter for Plancus to take to Considius under a flag of truce and, with letter in hand, Plancus approached the city walls. He was taken into the presence of Considius, who apparently did not share the same warm memories of their friendship that Plancus had, because as an answer not only did he not bother to open the letter with Caesar’s seal but executed Plancus on the spot. This was not made known to us immediately; instead, we spent that night and the better part of the next day waiting for some sort of answer from Considius, while there was much wagering on the fate of Plancus ranging from defection to the Pompeians to losing his head. The other reason Caesar chose to wait was to allow the rest of the army to join us, but there was no sign of the fleet that had supposedly been just one or two days away from Sicily when we left. However, this was not altogether surprising given the weather we experienced ourselves. It was the last day of the year of the Consulship of Calenus and Vatinius, except that was under the old calendar before Caesar reformed it. In other words, it was still October according to the new calendar, but on the first day of the “old” new year, Caesar decided that he could not afford to spend the time investing Hadrumentum now that he had learned of the fate of Plancus, particularly with the large force of cavalry from Clunea less than a day away. The numbers that the scouts had reported of the cavalry force was in excess of 3,000, compared to our 150 mounted troops, with the assumption being that they were the Gauls of Labienus’ force that escaped after Pharsalus. Breaking camp, Caesar decided to leave us as a rearguard then set off with only the cavalry, the auxiliaries and the bulk of his staff. Heading in the opposite direction from which the enemy cavalry was coming, Caesar made for the city of Ruspina. They were barely out of sight when the mounted scouts assigned to us reported the cloud of dust that marked the Pompeian cavalry, and who had obviously been warned of our presence because a couple of thirds of a watch later when they came close to our marching formation, they gave us a wide berth. However, they did pass closely enough for us to see that they were not Gauls, their darker skin and lighter armor making that clearly apparent.
“Numidians,” Scribonius said, causing me to look at him in surprise as we marched together.
“And how do you know that? When did you ever see a Numidian?”
Suddenly he looked wary, glancing quickly around to make sure that nobody else was in earshot before he answered. “I saw some when I was a child in Rome. They were associated with King Jugurtha in some way, but I don’t remember how. They looked and rode their horses the same way as those men do.”
Scribonius had become my closest friend, yet this moment reminded me how little I really knew about him. In contrast, between Vibius and me, Scribonius had learned probably more about our childhood and background than he ever wanted to know. Yet, when that moment came around the fire when men talked of home, Scribonius always remained silent, something we had just come to accept, never questioning him about it. I did not press then, since it was not the time or place, indeed, if there was one to begin with. Instead, we watched the cavalry streaming past us, shaking their arms at us while calling out threats in yet one more language we did not understand. Of course, our men replied in turn, marching along while shouting at the enemy what we would do to them if given the chance. I never really understood the point in all of this nonsense, but it was something that seemed to be important to the men even now after doing it for 15 years without influencing one battle. The enemy soon receded out of our sight in pursuit of Caesar and our cavalry, so now all we could do was wait, which is the hardest part of any campaign. Even worse than boredom is when things are happening, but you do not know the outcome of events, having to wait to hear the news that determines whether or not there is cause to celebrate or reason to panic. The numbers of enemy cavalry were certainly daunting, when compared to our own numbers, except at that point we did not know the quality of the Numidians, making it anyone’s guess as to what would happen.