The Silver Eagle (56 page)

Romulus panicked. He had no wish to call down the attention, or opprobrium, that admitting to being veterans of Crassus’ campaign would bring on them. But what could he say? Keeping silent was not an option.

To his relief, Tarquinius broke in. ‘Before the
bestiarius
, we served for a while in the Egyptian army, sir.’

‘Mercenaries, eh?’ growled the
optio
. ‘For those bastards?’

‘We knew nothing of any trouble with Caesar,’ added Romulus quickly. ‘As I said, we’ve been gone from the city for more than six months.’

‘Fair enough.’ His eyes flickered with satisfaction at their military appearance. ‘Right now we need every damn sword we can get.’

‘But . . .’ said Romulus, not quite believing what he was hearing. ‘We want to get back to Italy.’

‘Don’t we all?’ asked the
optio
, to roars of laughter from his men.

‘We’re not in the army though,’ protested Romulus, fighting a sinking feeling.

‘You are now,’ he snarled. ‘Welcome to the Twenty-Eighth Legion.’

His soldiers cheered.

Romulus looked at Tarquinius, who gave a small, resigned shrug. Romulus scowled. The haruspex’ actions had led to this, had led to everything. There was no forgiveness in his heart, just a searing anger.

‘Don’t try and run,’ warned the
optio
. ‘These lads are free to kill you if you do.’

Romulus studied the circle of smirking faces. There was no mercy in any.

‘Remember the penalty for desertion is crucifixion. Understand?’

‘Yes, sir,’ they both replied quietly. Miserably.

‘Cheer up,’ the
optio
said with a cruel smile. ‘Survive six years or so and you can leave.’

Bizarrely, Romulus took some heart at this. While the penalties for indiscipline in the military were savage, he was being treated like a Roman citizen, not a slave. Perhaps this way – in the legions – he could win acceptance. On his own, without Tarquinius.

Something drew Romulus’ eyes back to the dock.

Gaining momentum, Caesar’s legionaries had now pushed past the Egyptians whose arrival had caused the two friends to flee. While the first cohort pursued their demoralised enemies back into the city, the remainder were marching down to their triremes. Near the front marched an
aquilifer
, holding the legion’s silver eagle aloft. Romulus swelled with pride at the sight of it. Hurrying behind was a party of senior officers and centurions, recognisable by their transverse horsehair-crested helmets and red cloaks.

One of them could be Caesar, Romulus thought.

‘There’s our general,’ cried the
optio
, confirming his suspicion. ‘Let him know we’re here, boys.’

His men cheered.

Romulus frowned. There were two women in their midst too. Then a blinding flash of light seared his eyeballs and he looked around.

In the harbour, most of the Egyptian ships were burning. Long yellow tongues of flame were reaching across the narrow quay to lick hungrily at the library buildings. The immense conflagration lit up the whole scene.

Curious, Romulus turned back to stare at the newly arrived Romans, who were now no more than a hundred paces away. Along with some officers, the women had been helped on to the deck of the nearest ship. But other red-cloaked figures remained on the dock. Sailors were already loosening the trireme’s moorings, preparing to cast off into the harbour. Caesar was sending for reinforcements, thought Romulus, and sending his mistress and her servant away to safety.

Then one of the women pushed back the hood of her cloak.

Romulus gasped. It had been nine years, but there was no mistaking the features. She had grown up, but it was his twin sister. ‘Fabiola!’ he shouted.

No reaction.

‘FABIOLA!’ Romulus bellowed at the top of his voice.

Her head turned, searching.

Lunging forward, Romulus managed to run a few steps before two legionaries blocked his way.

‘You’re going nowhere, scumbag,’ snarled one. ‘We’re on sentry duty until dawn.’

‘No, you don’t understand,’ cried Romulus. ‘That’s my sister over there. I have to speak to her.’

Derisive laughter filled his ears. ‘Really? I suppose Cleopatra’s your cousin, too?’

Helplessly, Romulus screamed the same words over and over. ‘Fabiola! It’s me, Romulus!’

Incredibly, amidst the press and the confusion she saw him. Long-haired, bearded and in rusty chain mail, he could have been mistaken for a lunatic, but Fabiola knew her brother at once. ‘Romulus?’ she yelled joyfully. ‘Is it you?’

‘Yes! I’m in the Twenty-Eighth Legion,’ he shouted, giving Fabiola the only clue he could think of.

His last three words were swallowed in the pandemonium around Fabiola. ‘What?’ she cried. ‘I can’t hear you.’

It was pointless trying to speak. Officers’ commands, sailors’ cries, and the pounding drum filled the air in a cacophony of sound.

Fabiola ran to Brutus’ side and muttered in his ear and an instant later, he was beckoning to the
trierarch
. And shouting at him.

Reluctantly the captain ordered his men to stop what they were doing. All activity on the deck ceased.

Romulus’ heart thumped with joy.

But then waves of screaming Egyptians emerged from the nearby side streets, called by their defeated soldiers from every slum and dirt-bound hovel to help drive out the Roman invaders. The legionaries suddenly had a major battle on their hands.

On the ship, Brutus looked helplessly at Fabiola. Sorrowfully. ‘We can’t stay. Our mission is too important,’ he said and turned to the
trierarch
. ‘As you were.’

Fabiola felt her knees begin to shake. With a supreme effort, she held herself upright, forced down the faintness. Take courage, she thought. Romulus is alive, and in the legions. He
will
return to Rome one day. Mithras will protect him. She raised a quivering hand in farewell. For now.

‘Cast off. Quickly!’

Hearing the shouted order, Romulus understood Fabiola’s gesture. Utter wretchedness filled him. There was to be no joyful reunion.

Pushed out into the harbour by long poles, the trireme turned ponderously. Slow drumbeats directed the sailors, and the three banks of oars dug alternately into the water, positioning the ship to leave. The
trierarch
paced up and down, shouting rapid-fire commands. Other crewmembers unlashed and prepared the deck catapults while the ship’s marines readied their weapons. Nothing lay between them and the open sea to the west, but they would be ready all the same.

The baying crowd of Egyptians was nearly at the dock. Moving fast, Caesar had marshalled his cohorts into a solid line across the Heptastadion. Just a few moments remained before the two sides clashed.

‘Let’s get over there. Every legionary will count against those whoresons,’ shouted the
optio
. ‘Draw swords!’

A dozen
gladii
hissed from their scabbards, including, instinctively, those of Romulus and Tarquinius.

‘At the double!’

Struggling to contain his emotions, Romulus glanced at the haruspex as they ran with the others. ‘Fabiola’s gone.’

‘Safely on her way back to Italy.’ Tarquinius found time to smile. ‘And your road there is clearer now.’

Italy, thought Romulus, readying himself for the fight.

My road to Rome.

Author’s Note

M
any readers may be familiar with the events which led to the downfall of the Roman Republic. Where possible, I have stuck to the historical record. Clodius’ death, the rioting in Rome – including the use of gladiators – and the burning of the Senate all really happened, although my full-scale battle in the Forum Romanum is imaginary. To my knowledge, the targeting of Caesar’s supporters by Pompey is also fiction. Pompey did restore order in Rome with his legions, but we do not know who commanded them. Marcus Petreius was a real military commander, whose actions after his fictional meeting with Fabiola and marching to Rome are accurate. The remarkable events at Alesia also took place, and interested readers may want to see a reconstruction of Caesar’s bicircumvallation near modern-day Alise-Sainte-Reine, or the Musée des Antiquités Nationales in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, near Paris, where the finds from the nineteenth-century archaeological dig are displayed.

Gaius Cassius Longinus was a real person, although he was Crassus’ quaestor (deputy), not a legate. Longinus was the only senior officer to survive with his honour intact after Carrhae. Was this coincidence? After all, he was about the only nobleman who could recount the battle! He became an enemy of Caesar’s and fought against him at Pharsalus, after which he was pardoned. His brother (or cousin) Quintus Cassius Longinus was a tribune in January 49
BC
, and was one of those who carried the news to Caesar at Ravenna, thus precipitating the civil war. To ease the plot, I have amalgamated the two characters. The battle of Dyrrachium is documented, including Caesar’s men tossing charax loaves at their enemies, his near escape from the panicked
signifer
, and his comment about Pompey not knowing how to win. The manner of Caesar’s victory at Pharsalus is also well known, and recorded as the first occasion when infantry were used to attack cavalry in such a daring way. In making Brutus the commander of the legionaries responsible, I have strayed into fiction.

Caesar’s arrival in Egypt a few weeks later was typically rapid, and he very nearly came unstuck when the Egyptians reacted violently to his presence. He had with him the depleted Twenty-Seventh Legion, not the Twenty-Eighth, but the reader will find out in the next volume in the series why I made that change. During the civil war, we do not know how long soldiers had to serve in the legions before they could leave, with opinions varying between six and sixteen years. They carried two javelins on campaign, with some sources reporting that only one was carried in battle. I have stuck with two. The battle in Alexandria’s harbour did take place, but I have slightly altered what we know of it. Contrary to popular opinion, only part of the library burned down – the worst damage to it took place centuries later, at the hands of a zealous Christian mob! I have also delayed the arrival of Cleopatra on the scene.

As readers of
The Forgotten Legion
will know, the Parthian recurved bows were made of layers of wood, horn and sinew, and were tremendously powerful. Punching through the Roman
scuta
like paper, their arrows annihilated Crassus’ legions. My use of silk coverings on the shields is fiction. After consulting experts in the field, however, I am told that layers of cloth used in such a way – especially if cotton were included – would act like a bullet-proof vest, dispersing the force of the arrow and probably stopping it from penetrating. For simplicity, I chose to use only silk. An unfinished project of mine is to test the theory on a silk-covered Roman
scutum
, helped by re-enactors who use such recurved bows. The long spears used against the heavy cavalry did exist, and were used successfully against Parthian cataphracts by Roman armies in the third century
AD
.

Legionaries were possibly first introduced to Mithraicism in the first century
BC
, although its practice did not become more common until a few decades later. With its origins in modern-day Iran, it is highly likely that the Parthians knew of Mithras, or even worshipped him. And there are two surviving references to women being part of this supposedly men-only religion. See also the entry in the glossary.

Roman surgeons were very skilled, successfully performing operations that would not be repeated in the western world for over fifteen hundred years. Tarquinius’ thoracotomy to remove an arrow, though, is pure fiction, as is his use of penicillin powder from Egypt! It is highly unlikely that even this antibiotic would have saved Pacorus from the effects of
scythicon
(see glossary). Morphine was commonly used by the Romans, however.

What happened to the survivors of Crassus’ army after Carrhae nobody really knows, although it has been suggested they fought as mercenaries for the Huns (see the note at the beginning of
The Forgotten Legion
). But if those described in Chinese records were Roman legionaries, they would by then have been old men, for it is known that many of Crassus’ soldiers were veterans of the campaign against Mithridates in the 60s
BC
, and the Chinese description dates from 36
BC
. However, the Sogdians and the Scythians were definitely peoples that the Forgotten Legion could have encountered. The Scythians’ practices of beheading, skinning and scalping their enemies are well recorded, as are their penchants for warfare, red (presumably chestnut) horses and poison arrows. I could not resist setting the final battle against the Indians on the banks of the River Hydaspes. This was the site for one of Alexander the Great’s most famous victories, against a superior force which included over a hundred elephants. Although there is no evidence for the encounter described in
The Silver Eagle
, it could have happened. Invading tribes were sweeping through the area at roughly this time. The practice of coating pigs in grease and setting them alight to frighten elephants is recorded. So too is the use of elephants in ‘musth’ (when bulls are much more aggressive, and liquid streams down the sides of their faces), and of feeding them alcohol before battle.

Barbaricum was known to the Romans, and by the first century
BC
the trade to Egypt and thence Italy was already well established. Ships sailed in each direction once a year, following the relevant monsoon. Although the Romans had a presence in the towns on the Red Sea by then, I know of no record of triremes being used in these waters. To supply Rome’s ever-growing demand, wild animals were being caught everywhere they existed, and Ethiopia was one of those places. While exceedingly dangerous, the occupation of a
bestiarius
was a lucrative one. We know that the animals were moved north by ship and by wagons, but not much more. I have used some of the information from Hannibal’s crossing of the Rhône when referring to the transports used for elephants.

Thanks to the many holes in our knowledge, much has to be left open to interpretation when describing the ancient world. While I have changed some details, I have also tried to portray the time as accurately as possible. Hopefully this has been done in an entertaining and informative manner, without too many errors. For those that might be present, I apologise.

Lastly, my heartfelt thanks to the multitude of authors without whose works I would be lost. First among these is
A History of Rome
by M. Cary and H. H. Scullard; closely following are
The Complete Roman Army
and
Caesar
, both by Adrian Goldsworthy, as well as numerous fantastic volumes from Osprey Publishing. Thanks also to the members of
www.romanarmy.com
, whose rapid responses to my questions often helped so much. It is quite simply one of the best Roman reference resources there is. Sorry I couldn’t make it to RAT Mainz 2008!