by Peake, R. W.
“I think that Canidius and the army are about to move out.”
I just grunted, not particularly surprised, but Glaxus was not through.
Pointing farther north, on the other side of the inlet, beyond the remnants of our old camp, he added, “I saw torches over there, heading this way.”
Peering into the darkness, I could not see anything at all. Then, just when I was about to tell him he was seeing things, I caught a glimmer of reflected light, just a brief flash. A moment later, the light grew in strength, several other pinpoints finally appearing behind the first. It took a few heartbeats for it to register before I recognized that I was seeing a column of men, marching by torchlight and they were indeed headed south. There was little doubt that it was Octavian, explaining why Canidius was on the move as well. As I watched, the leading light disappeared, and I remembered from my previous study of the ground that there were undulations in the terrain, meaning they had obviously dipped down in between small hills. They had yet to reach the point where the ground leading up to the shoreline flattened out, allowing them to march along the beach, and I estimated that they were still a good third of a watch away from reaching the mouth of the inlet. Looking back to the camp, Canidius’ men were formed up and it appeared that they were just moments away from starting out the gate of the camp to make their escape. They would be exiting the Porta Decumana, meaning that they would actually head in our direction before turning to the east to follow the southern shore of the bay, then turning into the interior, but I was positive that Canidius would not spare the time to try and do anything about us. Seeing that nothing was likely to happen that would involve us for some time, I decided not to rouse the men yet, letting them get an extra bit of sleep. Telling Glaxus that he had done the right thing in sounding the alarm, I turned to walk back to my spot, telling the men, some of whom had climbed to their feet in anticipation of being roused, to go back to sleep. Daylight would be coming soon enough and we would see then what happened next. The big question in my mind was whether the men in the fort on the other side of the inlet, all two Cohorts, would put up a fight, despite it being a futile gesture, at best only buying Canidius a full watch or less should Octavian choose to pursue. Lying back down to try to rest before the dawning, I knew that this day was likely to be as difficult as the previous one, even if in different ways.
The sun rose to the sight of Octavian’s army just reaching the beach on the east side of the inlet, barely a mile north of the fort. Canidius’ army, or the tail end of it anyway, was still visible off to the east, marching along the southern stretch of the bay where a surprisingly large number of ships were gathered, growing from the night before. These turned out to be more Antonian stragglers that managed to escape the fighting under the cover of darkness. Evidently not knowing what else to do, they came back to the bay. Their crews were gathered in small knots about their respective craft and I imagined that there were discussions, likely very heated, about whether to surrender or run after and join up with Canidius and the army. As Balbinus had informed me, the camp below was not a smoking ruin, though a large number of the stakes of the palisade and tents were missing, making the rampart look like an old Legionary missing half of his teeth. The light, growing as the sun climbed over the eastern hills, allowed me to see that the fort on the north side of the inlet was deserted. Evidently, also under cover of darkness, Canidius had withdrawn those men, so there would be no resistance to Octavian’s army as it crossed over to the camp. My men, and those of the 12th, were already into their morning routine, the Centurions and Optios hurrying them along, preparing them for our orders. Deciding that I needed to consult with Balbinus again, by this point I was convinced that he had specific instructions about what to do next from Octavian, and I found him bawling orders to his Century, once again pulling him aside.
“What are we supposed to do next?”
“What do you mean?”
Finally, I had enough and I reached out to grab his arm, squeezing it with as much force as I could muster. He flinched, almost crying out in pain, but stopped by biting his lip, not wanting to shame himself in front of his men. Normally I would never have treated another Primus Pilus in such a manner, but I was beyond caring.
“You know exactly what I mean,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I know Octavian well enough to know that he wouldn't leave a detail like the two Legions who mutinied against Antonius unattended to, and I know that you know a lot more than you're telling me. So what is it? What did he tell you to do next?”
He rubbed his arm, seeming more rueful than angry.
“You don’t have to get angry, Pullus. I was going to tell you.”
“Apparently I do, because I keep finding myself coming over here begging for information, which you should be giving me freely.”
“The Legions are to stay up here, and you and I are supposed to go down to meet him in the camp.”
That alarmed me a great deal.
“Alone?” I asked, and he nodded.
Looking down towards the group of men on horseback leading the way in front of the standards of the first Legion, I knew that Octavian would be one of them. They were almost to the fort and it would take a bit of time for them to get loaded aboard the boats that would ferry them across the inlet. I did not think that Octavian would lead the way; he was much too cautious and wily for that, preferring to send at least a Cohort ahead to smell out a trap. Also, I imagined that he would want some men sent across to go and deal with the crews of the ships, who had apparently made their decision and were now all clustered together, seemingly waiting for Octavian to present himself so they could surrender. That gave us a bit of time, but I did not like the idea of going down to face the younger Triumvir with just Balbinus at my side, and I shook my head.
“I won’t go down there alone. Not with just you.”
Balbinus looked unhappy, strengthening my suspicions. He shook his head. “Octavian won’t like that. He was very specific that it should just be you and I.”
“I don’t care,” I had made up my mind, and it had been Balbinus who had done it for me. “I'm going down there with the whole Legion.”
Now he looked positively petrified. “You can’t do that, Pullus,” he gasped. “Octavian will think you mean to fight if you disobey his instructions and come with the whole damn Legion.”
As much as I did not want to admit it, I could see Balbinus had a point.
“All right,” I relented, but very grudgingly. “I won’t bring the Legion. I'll bring just my Cohort. He can’t possibly think that I plan on fighting his whole army with just them. And I'll leave them just outside the camp when we go to see him.”
He was clearly unhappy, but he could see that I was not going to budge, so he sighed and said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Well, if you had been more forthcoming in the beginning, I would have been more likely to trust you.”
Without waiting for a reply, I spun on my heel to go get the First ready to meet Octavian.
I did not explain to the Centurions why the First was to accompany me down to the camp, and they did not ask. The men, probably sensing my unease, were on edge, looking very wary as we marched down the hill. Ordering them to march in column and not in closed formation, the way we would if we were expecting contact, I understood that I was taking a risk as it was and did not want to exacerbate matters with Octavian. However, I was so tired of all the intrigue and treachery that I was not taking any more risk than I had to, so I was especially alert as the camp drew closer. Balbinus was not talking; he looked very uneasy himself and I wondered why, since he had been so assured about almost everything that had taken place to this point. Reaching the bottom of the slope, just outside the Porta Decumana I ordered the Cohort to halt. Octavian had posted men on the ramparts and they stood watching as I called Balbus over.
“I’m putting you in command. If you see me come running, wait for me and we’ll get back up the hill. If you think I’m i
n trouble, I’ll leave it up to you to decide what to do.”
He regarded me steadily, then looked up at the men on the rampart. Finally, he just gave a shrug.
“I think you’re making a big mistake, but we’ll be here whatever happens.”
“I don’t see where I have a lot of choice,” I said. “I have to meet with Octavian at some point, and Balbinus seems to have arranged it already.”
“You’re a fool if you trust him.” Balbus was adamant, though I was not sure whether he meant Octavian or Balbinus.
“I’m no fool,” I assured him. “If something goes wrong, I'll gut Balbinus before I go down.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” were his last words, then we clasped arms before I joined Balbinus, who was standing off to the side.
“You ready?”
Looking over at him, I saw that he looked extremely nervous, which did not make me feel ready at all, but I nodded anyway. We walked towards the Porta Decumana, then when we were perhaps 50 paces away, a Centurion stepped forward from the small group of men who were standing waiting. Squinting at the figure, I knew that he looked familiar but was unable immediately to place the face. We were almost to him before it came to me; the man’s name was Aulus Lappius, and he was the Primus Pilus of Octavian’s 3rd Legion, not to be confused with the 3rd Gallica of Spurius. The two of us were slightly acquainted from our time on the Campus Martius and what I knew of him was that he was competent, but was also firmly attached to Octavian. His face was neither friendly nor hostile; his manner that of the professional as he greeted the both of us.
“Caesar is waiting for you. You’re to come with me,” he told us after our initial greeting.
Without waiting for an answer, he turned to walk back through the gate, Balbinus and I on his heels. The men who were with him, all rankers, but looking like hand-picked men, very tough and experienced, fell in immediately behind us, which did not make me feel any easier.
As we marched by what just two days before had been the 10th’s area, I could tell from a cursory look that it appeared that nothing was disturbed, the tents still standing and everything else looking intact. Naturally, I was most interested in examining my tent and was happy to see that it also looked untouched. Approaching the center of the camp, I saw men gathered on the large empty spot where the Praetorium had been. Two of them were mounted and, as we drew closer, I saw that with Octavian was Marcus Agrippa, the latter leaning down, presumably giving orders to the Tribune standing next to his horse. Octavian was addressing a small cluster of men, stopping when we came into his view. Sitting upright, he watched us approach, his demeanor cold and anything but welcoming. Gone was the prettiness that had dogged his youth, leading to all those whispered rumors about his sexual tastes. In its place was a coldly handsome man, clearly in the prime of his life although he still looked young for his age. He was now 32 years old and I felt a jolt as I realized that it had been 13 years since that night when I had joined Caesar and his young nephew for dinner.
Lappius approached to salute Octavian, saying something in a low voice to his general that got Octavian’s attention. Nodding a dismissal to Lappius, he fixed his gaze on me as I saluted, which he did not return, staring down at me for several moments, his face betraying nothing. When he spoke, his voice was cold and despite the fact he did not speak in an excessively loud tone of voice, it was clear that he meant for the others around us to hear his words.
“Well, Pullus, it seems that you're still doing things in your own way.”
I was unsure what he was referring to, so I decided that the best course was to play the stupid Legionary.
Finishing my salute to Octavian, I remembered to address him in his preferred manner.
“I'm reporting that the 10th Legion is at your service, Caesar.”
I had hoped that this would soothe whatever hard feelings he was having, but it clearly did not work. Ignoring what I had said, he turned to Balbinus.
“Balbinus, did you relay the instructions to Pullus exactly as they were relayed to you?”
Balbinus was not about to stick his neck out for me, snapping to intente and wasting no time in answering that he had indeed very specifically told me to come without an escort. Once Balbinus finished, Octavian turned back to me, his pale blue eyes boring into mine.
“So Balbinus here claims that he told you my instructions, which you apparently chose to ignore. Would you care to explain why?”
It had been a trying two days, with my patience sorely tested by Balbinus as it was, and I felt the anger that had been churning in me come boiling out, even as I knew that nothing good could come from displaying my temper.
“Because you're not my commanding general, Caesar. It's true I'm repaying a debt to you, but I'm loyal to Rome, first and foremost. I would ask why it was so important that you demand that we come alone?”
Agrippa’s jaw dropped, while Octavian looked as if he had been slapped. The men standing about were looking at me like I was possessed by some numen, but I did not care.
It took Octavian a moment to find his tongue, though his voice was strangled, I assume with anger, as he gasped, “Are you insinuating that I planned some sort of violence against you?”
“Are you insinuating the same thing, Caesar? What would it matter if I brought my men? They've been up on that hill for two days and they need to come down to the camp to retrieve their gear and to pack up to join up with your army. I assume that you're going to waste no time in going after Canidius, and you'll need one of the most veteran Legions in the army. The more time they spend sitting on that hill, the longer it will take them to be ready.”
Finished, I stood, feet apart, half-expecting him to snap an order to have men seize me, or try at any rate, while for a long moment he looked as if he were about to do that very thing. Then, he exhaled sharply, giving a harsh chuckle.
“Fair enough, Pullus. I can see now how ordering you to come alone could seem to be suspicious, though it was only to save time. And now that you mention it, I can see that having your men and Balbinus’ men to stay up on the hill and not down here, packing up, is wasting it.”
Octavian urged his horse forward, walking it to where I was standing so that he could look down on me.
“I'm happy that you have chosen to continue to serve Rome, Pullus, and I welcome the 10th Legion into my army.” Leaning down, he stared into my eyes as he finished quietly. “But now that I am your commanding general, you will never question my orders again. Is that clear, Primus Pilus?”
I knew better than to push my luck any farther, so I nodded, giving him another salute as a sign that I had received his message very clearly indeed.
Satisfied, he said, “Send for your Legion to come pack up. Then I want to speak to you and Balbinus privately. I want to know everything about the army we’re chasing.”
“How did it go?”
“I’m alive, but just barely, I imagine,” I said grimly to Balbus, when I returned to the First.
Recounting the conversation, Balbus gave a toneless whistle after I finished.
“Sometimes I think that you truly want to die, Titus.”
“I just don’t like being pushed,” I retorted. “And he had no business pushing me that way.”
Balbus gave me a hard stare.
“No business?” he repeated. “What kind of nonsense is that? He’s the most powerful man in the Republic, he can do anything he likes and you and I and everyone like us must do as he commands. That’s what business he has.”
“But we’re citizens, just like he is.” I knew I was being stubborn, but I was still simmering over the confrontation. “Just because he's higher born and is a Triumvir doesn’t mean that we don’t have rights.”
Balbus just snorted at this, making it clear what he thought of my high-flown notions. Deciding that there was no profit in continuing the conversation, I let it drop, ordering Balbus’ Optio to go up the hill and retrieve the rest of the Legion.
“You mi
ght as well go into camp and start breaking things down,” I told Balbus. “I have to go have a private talk with Octavian.”
Balbus’ eyebrow lifted in a clear question, but I waved his concerns away.
“No, it’s not like that. He wants to talk to me about the state of Canidius’ army, and I imagine he's going to ask about Antonius.”
“And Cleopatra,” Balbus added.
“Her too,” I said grimly. “And I have quite a bit to tell him about her.”
Balbus laughed as he walked away to rouse the First.
Since the Praetorium was missing, Octavian had to find a smaller tent near the forum, choosing a Legate’s tent that had somehow been left behind. Two guards were standing outside and I noticed that they were dressed differently, wearing red plumes instead of black, while their armor was highly polished. They were both almost as large as I was. When I appeared, I was clearly expected and waved in without a challenge. The inside of the tent was essentially bare, since its owner had taken the contents with him on the ships, while several stools had been scrounged from somewhere, and both Octavian and Agrippa were seated on two of them. Standing behind them were three scribes, with Octavian dictating to one of them. I strode to stand at intente in front of the pair, saluting Octavian first before turning to render the same to Agrippa. Octavian gave a wave in return while Agrippa was more formal, giving me a parade ground salute in return, which I appreciated. I stood waiting, but thankfully Octavian was almost done and did not make me stand there, perhaps sensing that it would not do either of us any good; my temper, and presumably his, still a bit raw. Balbinus was not present and I assumed that since he had to go himself to get his Legion, he would be showing up shortly. Octavian turned to me, looking at me for a moment before favoring me with a smile so reminiscent of Caesar that I felt weak in the knees.
