They had not been relaxing round their tents for long when Bassius asked permission of one of the tribunes to start training his cohort. The veteran had had enough of twiddling his thumbs. Flanked by the five other centurions, Bassius stood with hands on hips, glaring at the sweating mercenaries.
'Time to start some proper military training. You've had long enough sitting on your arses.'
Most soldiers looked unhappy but Brennus rubbed his hands with glee.
'Form up! Attention!'
The irregulars quickly shuffled into rank, staring ahead as they had been had taught.
'Stand up!' Bassius stalked between the lines, straightening backs, tapping chins with his vine cane. 'Pretend to have spines, even if you haven't!'
At last the old centurion was satisfied and, directing a number of men to carry with them heavy wooden stakes procured from the quartermaster, Bassius led the cohort out of the busy camp, on to the flat ground in front.
Other centurions had similar ideas. The area was full of irregulars running, jumping and sparring with each other. After long weeks at sea, the officers of Crassus' army knew they had to get the men quickly into shape. It would be two months before the whole host was ready to march to the east, a short time to turn farmers into trained soldiers.
'Looks like some time at the palus again!'
'Gods above!' laughed Brennus. 'As if we need that. A good run would be more like it.'
Once the stakes had been hammered into the iron-hard ground, Bassius and his comrades began to instruct groups of recruits in basic weapons training. Romulus and his friends only had to cut and thrust at the palus once or twice before Bassius judged them hugely experienced. The three stood watching as the bemused Gauls were put through their paces. The veteran had obtained training equipment, wooden swords and wicker shields twice as heavy as the real thing and he worked the sweating men hard. It was the same method taught in gladiator school.
'What do you think you're doing?' Bassius roared at the trio a few moments later. 'No standing around! Four laps of the perimeter. At the trot!'
Romulus stayed beside the grinning Gaul as they ran along the defensive trench around the camp.
Brennus began loosening his shoulders. 'Just what we need,' he said.
Tarquinius remained silent, observing the legions as they moved into position. Romulus could hear him muttering.
'Crassus has too many infantry. Fool!'
'What's wrong?'
'Look.' The Etruscan pointed out the thousands of legionaries training in the hot sun. 'No horsemen.'
Romulus found it hard not to be stirred by the magnificent sight of so many soldiers moving in unison but his eyes narrowed as he saw what Tarquinius meant. The ancient battles mentioned by Cotta had involved large numbers of cavalry. They were a vital part of any army.
'All I have seen are the Gauls beside our tent lines, and a couple of cohorts of Iberians. Barely two thousand.' Tarquinius wiped his brow. 'That's not enough.'
Brennus punched the air with each fist, indicating to Romulus that he copy the action. 'Thirty thousand infantry should crush any enemy,' he panted, still finding it bizarre that he was now serving in the Roman army. An army which had crushed his people.
'Numbers aren't everything. Think about Hannibal,' countered Romulus. 'A lot of his victories against superior forces were thanks to his cavalry.'
Tarquinius was pleased by the insight. 'And the Parthians will have hardly any foot soldiers.'
'So how do they fight?' asked Brennus in surprise.
'Mounted archers. They attack in rapid waves, firing arrows.' Tarquinius plucked an imaginary bowstring. 'Storms of them.'
'Two thousand horse will struggle to contain those,' said Brennus.
'Precisely. And that's before the cataphracts charge.'
The word was unknown to Romulus and Brennus.
'Cataphracts — fully armoured mounts and riders.'
Romulus felt uneasy. 'Surely Crassus knows this too?'
'He is relying on the king of Armenia,' Tarquinius said thoughtfully. 'Artavasdes has up to six thousand cavalry.'
'That's all right then, surely?'
'If Crassus doesn't throw away the opportunity.'
They waited for him to continue. A stiff breeze sprang up and Romulus shivered. The army had seemed invincible.
Seemed.
'What do you mean?' Brennus was also concerned.
'First we have to march across Asia Minor, into Syria and Judaea,' said the Etruscan lightly. 'The stars and sea currents show several possible outcomes.'
Brennus relaxed. During the voyage, he had come to trust Tarquinius implicitly, his predictions of bad weather and sightings of pirates proving correct virtually every time.
'If Crassus marches us into Armenia with Artavasdes,' Tarquinius continued, 'we could be feasting in Seleucia in eighteen months!'
But Romulus was sceptical of Tarquinius' words, which plainly covered all outcomes. He had yet to be convinced of the soothsayer's power. The young soldier had persuaded himself that Tarquinius must have overheard him and Brennus talking about the fight outside the brothel. And anticipating the odd storm and the presence of pirates in wild backwaters was hardly proof of mystical ability.
At the mention of Seleucia, Brennus shivered. No Allobroge could ever have travelled that far, he thought. Is that where my journey will end?
They ran on, passing a group of senior officers clustered round a stocky man outside one of the camps. None even glanced at the three soldiers passing by. Sunlight reflected brightly off the central figure 's gilded breastplate.
Crassus was planning the campaign ahead.
'Our fates are in his hands,' said Romulus.
'It has already been decided,' pronounced Tarquinius. 'Our destinies are not linked for ever. And Crassus' fate is his own.'
Romulus increased his pace. There 'd been enough talk of ill omens and bad luck. All he wanted to do was to push himself physically, to forget everything else for a while. His friends would give him guidance when needed. Despite Tarquinius' predictions about the army's shortcomings, it was hard to imagine how such a massive force could possibly fail.
Chapter XIX: Fabiola and Brutus
More than fourteen months pass.
The Lupanar, Rome, spring 53 BC
In the lifetime that had gone by since Gemellus had sold Fabiola, she had grown into an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Sleek black hair fell in a mane to a narrow waist. Piercing blue eyes mesmerised anyone who gazed into them for more than a few heartbeats. A slightly aquiline nose added character to stunning looks. Her full breasts and sinuous figure reminded men of the goddess Venus.
Fabiola had not been in the Lupanar for long before word had spread of her incredible ability to please. After Brutus' first visit, Jovina decided to drop prices for the new girl only a fraction and it was a gamble that paid off richly. Despite her huge expense, she was soon the most popular prostitute.
The old madam began to earn a fortune from Fabiola alone. Within six months, her shrewd purchase from Gemellus had paid for itself many times over. In a rare gesture, Jovina even let Fabiola start keeping a slightly larger percentage than the other women. But her owner was still sharp as a blade. Fabiola was never allowed outside without company, nor was there any mention of manumission.
Her customers ranged from rich merchants to politicians and military officers — every part of the ruling class. Under her spell, many came to see Fabiola at least once a week and she was showered with expensive perfume, dresses and jewellery. Gifts were always welcome, particularly money, which was carefully locked away in an iron trunk. Every month, Benignus or Vettius escorted her to the Forum. There Fabiola deposited the cash with Greek moneylenders, where it earned a small amount of interest. The only way she could see of leaving the Lupanar was to accumulate wealth, and to leave was still her ambition. Fabiola rarely made a withdrawal, unless it was needed to buy information about Romulus.