Scaurus spoke without taking his eyes off the cavalrymen.
‘A Parthian shot. The Phrygian’s wing’s prefect and I have clearly been reading the same books. Ah, it seems that the display is complete. Shall we go and inspect the men?’
Quintinus raised an eyebrow.
‘It’s more usual for the legatus simply to address them from his horse, Legatus.’
Scaurus shrugged.
‘Everything changes, First Spear. And I’m not much of a man for following rules whose point I struggle to comprehend.’
He dismounted and strode out onto the hard, sandy surface, heading straight for the cavalrymen in their place on the line’s right. Dismounted, each man stood by his beast’s head, their weapons and equipment as carefully presented as their infantry colleagues.
‘You put on an impressive show, Decurion.’
The senior squadron commander saluted crisply.
‘Thank you Sir. We practise daily with-’
‘The Phrygian wing. Yes, First Spear Quintinus mentioned it. I’ll have to meet with their prefect, he sounds like a good man.’
‘He is, sir, a real soldier if you take my meaning …’
He dried up under Quintinus’s scrutiny, but Scaurus nodded.
‘I take your meaning well enough, Decurion. My congratulations on your turnout.’
He walked along the line of infantrymen, looking hard at each cohort in turn with Quintinus following him in bemused silence. Once he had reached the Tenth Cohort’s place at the far end, he turned about without a word and made his way back to the point where the men of the missing Sixth Cohort would have stood, glancing at the First Spear.
‘Here will do.’
Clearing his throat, he raised his voice to be heard across the silent parade ground.
‘Soldiers of the Third Gallic! You have presented a flawless display of your martial prowess! Your testudo was swiftly formed, and resisted the attacks of the forces opposing you. Your formation-keeping was precise, and the manner in which you went about your mock battle was fearless and decisive. You are to be commended for living up to the high standards that have been set by your legion since it was formed by the Divine Julius Caesar himself, serving under such inspired generals as Marcus Antonius, Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo and the divine Titus Flavius Vespasian! Indeed it was this legion’s decisive role at the battle of Bedriacum that assured that most august emperor’s claim on the imperial throne!’
He paused, looking up and down the ranks of solemn-faced soldiers.
‘The Third Gallic has been an essential part of Roman rule in this province for almost two hundred years, and I have every expectation that you will continue to show our enemies that Rome is not to be treated with anything other than the greatest respect! Soon we will be marching east, tasked by our emperor with the responsibility to teach some uppity Parthian king or other that while our empire’s rule is beneficent, our anger when roused is truly a thing of terror. You men and I will put right a wrong that has been done to our brother soldiers, and in doing so make our borders safe for another hundred years! But for now …’
He paused again, forcing himself to grin wolfishly.
‘For now, you have earned a little free time!’
Men were nudging each other in the cohort’s front ranks in anticipation of the words they so badly wanted to hear.
‘The rest of the day will be treated as free time for anyone without essential duties to perform. Make sure that you’re in a fit state for sunrise tomorrow, but make the most of this reward for your excellent performance!’
He turned to Quintinus.
‘Dismiss your men, First Spear. And take the afternoon off yourself, along with your centurions. First Spear Julius and I will look after the guard rota.’
Julius walked across to join his superior officer once Quintinus had saluted and marched away, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
‘The Tungrian cohorts aren’t included in your generosity, Legatus?’
Scaurus nodded with a crooked smile.
‘I don’t think that would be wise. Antioch may be a big place, but the odds are good that our boys would end up nose to nose with those soldiers, and given that they know the city and our men don’t, it might very well get ugly. I don’t want to risk putting them together in the presence of drink and women until they all know each other a little better. And you might want to warn your men that tomorrow morning’s parade is likely to be followed by something a bit more strenuous than a morning’s sword drill and wrestling.’
Julius saluted and turned away to supervise the Tungrians back to their morning exercise, his place promptly being taken by the senior tribune who had been waiting behind him.
‘Well said, Legatus, if I might be allowed to offer a congratulation on your oration? I had no idea the legion’s reputation was so strong-’
Umbrius’s eyes narrowed with surprise as Scaurus shook an exasperated head.
‘Reading, Tribune, is a powerful way to find out things you don’t know. And the Third Gallic, for your more complete information, were indeed formed by the blessed Julius, in Gaul, logically enough, but they ended up on the wrong side in the wars that followed his death. Once Marcus Antonius had killed himself after Actium they were sent here by the emperor Augustus as punishment for taking the wrong side in the civil war. And the reason the legion was so instrumental at Bedriacum was that, being an eastern legion, they stopped fighting to greet the sunrise with a salute, which Vitellius’s men mistook as a signal to reinforcements from the east, causing them to lose the will to fight. The history of the Third Gallic, Tribune, is the same mixture of bravery, disaster, stupid mistakes and blind luck that every other legion parades as its claim to eternal glory. Including, on occasion, that old favourite …’
He turned away, barking his last words over his shoulder.
‘Pernicious fraud!’
‘Does everyone have a cup?’ Scaurus looked around his officers, raising his wine in salute. ‘Here’s to audacity, gentlemen.’
With the legion busy enjoying itself in the wine shops and brothels of the city, the legatus had gracefully accorded his senior officers the same privilege, knowing that he could count on them to indulge themselves in similar fashion to their men, thereby giving him the opportunity to meet with a select group of men he knew he could trust to plan their next steps. The officers sitting around him lifted their drinks and echoed the toast.
‘Audacity!’
Cotta sipped at his wine appreciatively.
‘Two of the reasons that I like you, Legatus, are because you serve damned good wine and because you know when to take risks. I presume our toast means that you have a little more risk taking in mind?’
Scaurus nodded, looking around him at the faces of his men.
‘It’s clear enough that the governor intends to thwart me in any way that presents itself to him. And if he knew the contents of the report I’m intending to send back to Rome regarding the state of the province’s defences, he would promptly redouble those efforts. If he has his way then we will march east with no hope other than that our deaths will be swift and honourable.’ He looked around at the gathered officers.
‘And speaking for myself, I have no plans to meet my ancestors for a good while yet. So, each of you is here for a reason, each man with a role to play in ensuring that when we march east we go equipped to conquer whatever it is that’s waiting for us beyond the Euphrates. Julius.’
‘Legatus?’
‘We don’t have time to turn the legion’s men into thirty-mile-a-day marching animals, but we do have time to find out which of them have the potential. And you don’t have the time to make them very much more proficient with their weapons, but you can assess who’ll be confident enough to use their spears and swords when the time comes. You’ve got a week, no more, and then we’ll make the decision as to who we take east and who we leave here for the governor to play at soldiers with.’