‘That stubborn prick,’ said the agent as he and Cassius watched some lads lead the horses onto the fortress corral. ‘He demanded to know what we needed the men for. As if I would disclose Service matters to the likes of him.’
‘The governor knows, though, sir?’
‘Of course. I had no choice there. Just hope the old boy keeps it to himself.’
‘He seems a decent man.’
‘Better than most. Can you take it from here? I have some other matters to attend to.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Abascantius plucked his helmet off a nearby fence post and pulled it on. ‘When you’re done here, start thinking about logistics: mounts for the journey, supplies, weaponry …’
‘Yes, sir.’
As the auxiliaries parted to let Abascantius through, Cassius quietly cursed. Organising all that needed doing in little more than a day would be a struggle, especially with no Simo to assist him. The thought of leaving Bostra without the capable attendant was deeply depressing. Cassius was trying not to think about what they might face in the southern desert. He now knew from experience that the only way to get through the next few weeks would be to negotiate a day at a time.
‘Right, first three men — in you go and get ready.’
With the lads holding the horses, the auxiliaries walked through the open gate and onto the mix of sand and bark that covered the ground. Cassius noticed a few jumps and other obstacles piled up in the middle of the oval-shaped corral but he didn’t plan to make things complicated. All he needed to know was whether the men could handle a horse properly.
As the trio hesitantly mounted up, he looked over at Indavara’s group, who’d occupied the empty space between the corral and the road. Mercator had earlier collared an armourer, who’d furnished them with some wooden practice swords. The bodyguard and the optio were now assessing the fighting skills of the other half of the auxiliaries.
Despite his apparent lack of enthusiasm, Indavara had perked up at the prospect of the sword drill. Cassius wondered how he’d fare with the auxiliaries — he was hardly the most vocal of men, after all. But, as he looked on, Indavara raised a sword and gestured for one of the soldiers to come at him. The man seemed keen to impress and darted this way and that, striking from different angles and positions. Indavara held his ground, seeing off every thrust with smooth parries and sidesteps. After a while the deflated auxiliary gave up, but Indavara encouraged him to continue against another man and moved on.
‘Sir?’
The auxiliaries were ready; the lads out of the corral.
‘Right. Circuits. Nice space between you. Keep to a walk for now.’
As they began, one of the other auxiliaries came up to the fence. ‘Sir, it’s been a while since I’ve ridden. I should tell you, I might-’
Cassius cut him off with a palm held up to his face; he wanted to watch the others. Two were passable but one man had taken up a terrible posture, his weight too far forward.
After two circuits he ordered a trot. The third man was still struggling to control his mount and seemed to have no clue how to speed up. As he approached the gate, Cassius ordered him to stop. Even this was a challenge and one of the lads had to intervene and grab the reins.
But the auxiliary was determined to persist. ‘Another go and I’ll get it right, sir. Honestly.’
‘Dismount. You won’t be coming with us.’
The Arabian muttered an oath, no doubt imagining those precious gold aurei slipping through his fingers.
‘I told you to dismount.’
The man did so.
Cassius called out to the remaining riders. ‘Gallop!’
The auxiliary struck his leg with frustration, then walked over to the others.
‘Thank you for volunteering,’ said Cassius, conscious that the men would also be sizing him up, seeing what kind of officer he was. ‘Back to your century.’
As the auxiliary complied, Cassius ordered the riders to make a turn and trot in the other direction. Both managed this with little difficulty and he decided he’d seen enough.
It took him half an hour to watch the rest of the recruits. By the end he’d lost three more, which left him with twelve competent riders. As the last of the rejected men departed, Cassius led the auxiliaries over to the second group.
Indavara and Mercator had only four pairs still fighting, the sound of their scuffing boots mixing with the sharp crack of wood on wood. The others were sitting down, watching.
‘Easy there,’ said Indavara to one wide-eyed soldier who looked as if he thought he was in a real battle. ‘Your shoulders are all tensed up. Watch the blade, not the man.’
Mercator looked on with arms crossed.
‘Well?’ Cassius asked him as the men sat with their compatriots.
‘I’ve decided to leave it to your friend there. Where did you find him anyway?’
‘Long story. By the way, I see we’ve got a couple of guard officers with us.’ Cassius had noted the single red band on their tunics.
‘That’s Yorvah with you — good soldier. He’ll have no trouble with the sword. How was his riding?’
‘Excellent. It will be useful to have one or two squad leaders. And this man here?’
‘Andal. He’ll not struggle with the riding either.’
Cassius moved on to Indavara. ‘What do you think?’
Indavara nodded at the men already sitting down. ‘They’re all decent.’
‘Decent?’
‘A lot better than you, not as good as me.’
Cassius was at least grateful Indavara had kept his voice down. ‘I suppose that’s clear enough. What about these others?’
‘Some of them were originally recruited as archers. It shows. How many can we lose?’
‘Anyone who’s not up to it.’
‘There are four.’
‘Tell them.’
‘You tell them. I’m not even in the army.’
‘Which ones?’
‘The young lad, that pair at the end, and the fat one.’
‘That’ll do, men,’ said Cassius. Once the auxiliaries had lowered their swords, he pointed in turn at the four Indavara had selected. ‘Thank you for volunteering. I’m afraid you won’t be joining us. You can head back to your century.’
Two of the men placed their swords on the ground and left immediately. Another looked for affirmation from Mercator before joining them.
The young soldier, however, didn’t move an inch. ‘That’s not fair.’ He aimed the sword at Indavara. ‘Why’s he deciding? He doesn’t fight like we’ve been taught anyway.’
‘Perhaps you’d like to take him on and we can see whose way is best?’ suggested Cassius.
‘The decision’s been made,’ said Mercator. ‘The others were stronger. On your way.’
Realising he wasn’t going to get anywhere, the auxiliary added his sword to the pile and left.
‘Right,’ said Cassius to the sweating swordsmen. ‘Over to the corral, you lot.’
He turned to Indavara and Mercator. ‘Remember we need twenty. No more, no less.’
Half an hour later they had them. While the men filled up their canteens from a barrel of water supplied by Mercator, Cassius took the optio and the two guard officers aside. ‘We aim to leave the day after tomorrow. If you and the men have any affairs to tidy up, now is the time to do it. But do not discuss the operation with anyone.’
‘With respect, sir,’ said Andal, the older of the two, ‘we don’t know enough to discuss anything.’
‘It will have to stay that way for now.’
‘Might be a few drop-outs before we leave,’ said Mercator.
‘Why?’
‘Some of them have women, family. Given a bit of time to think about it they might decide they’d rather stay here in Bostra.’
‘Well, we have a few reserves we can call up,’ said Cassius. ‘Now, we’ve covered horses and supplies. What about weapons? What would a bunch of desert warriors be carrying?’