Nick Brown - The Siege

‘I see it, sir. And did I hear that we’re to make for a pass between the first two hills?’

‘That’s it, yes. I see you are as anxious to establish our route as I.’

‘As you say, sir, two pairs of eyes are better than one. I’ve become rather used to finding the way. Working for my last master it was a daily occupation. I lost count of the times I had to show him the way to buildings within his own estate.’

‘Is that so?’ asked Cassius as they rode away from the farmhouse. ‘Still, I’ll wager you’d rather be on your way to Rome than stuck out here with me.’

Simo took a while to reply.

‘It’s not my place to decide how best I can serve, sir. You can be sure I’ll perform my duties as well as I can.’

Cassius frowned, feeling slightly guilty that he’d provoked such a statement.

‘Oh, I know that, man. I’ve seen enough of you to know that.’

The two of them fell into an uneasy silence. The only sounds to be heard were the increasingly distant rumble of the column and the annoying thumps and thuds of equipment shifting around on the saddles. As their riders eased their grip on the reins, the horses settled into a slow, steady pace and stared blankly at the ground in front of them, oblivious to the distances ahead.

By the time they finally lost sight of the column, the sun was already beginning its descent. Cassius had been turning round every so often and had just seen the last moving speck disappear behind the pale yellow hills north of Nessara. A few minutes earlier they had reached the crooked tree, stopping to water the horses. Cassius hadn’t felt like eating anything and they soon got under way again.

He now realised he had made his first serious mistake. Cotta’s words rolled around his head and he found himself struggling to remember precisely what the scout had said about bandits. Given the present situation, he knew his garb would do nothing to deter any would-be attackers. Simo carried a dagger, but he hardly seemed the warrior type, and with his own fighting ability still so limited, he had been stupid not to bring along a couple of the legionaries.

Squinting into the haze, Cassius looked for horses on the plain, or moving along the base of the hills ahead. As they had at least two or three more hours until they reached those hills, he decided to occupy the time with conversation, knowing at least that if they were attacked, it would not be difficult to see their foes coming.

‘So Simo. Remind me how it is that a Gaul comes to be so far from home.’

Simo also seemed eager to distract himself and eased his horse a little nearer.

‘Well, sir, I have worked for my master all my life, as my father did for his. My antecedents were captured in battle and taken to Rome. My grandfather’s grandfather came here in the service of a leather merchant. It was during the time of the Emperor Hadrian — ‘the days of glory’ as my father would call them. He used to tell stories passed down to him: the building of Antioch’s great temples and aqueducts and theatres; the garrison parading the walls, five thousand strong; and the rise of the Christians, of course.’

Cassius rolled his eyes.

‘The Christians. I heard almost as much about them in Antioch as the Palmyrans. It seems they are with us to stay.’

‘I should say so, sir. My uncle’s dwelling in the city is not far from a house used by Paul of Tarsus no less. Do you find nothing of merit in their teachings?’

Cassius shrugged. Ever since his earliest days, he had lacked a natural interest in things religious. Here in the East, he had found that every tenet of traditional Roman belief seemed to be a subject for debate, and his interest had declined even further.

‘Not particularly. It seems to me that life is short, difficult and dangerous, and one is better off looking to oneself if one wishes to progress. Although I must accept I am in a minority as far as such thinking goes. Of course, if the Emperor and his general Aurelian do well, it may be that one day they find themselves worshipped as divine beings.’

‘The Emperor does seem the type to bring the provinces to heel, sir.’

‘Indeed, though I must confess I never expected to be involved in such efforts myself. If only that rampaging bitch Zenobia would be content to stay in her lair, I would be spared such a trial. Only a mob of witless barbarians would allow a woman to rule them.’

‘Barbarians they are, sir. I have heard tales of their treatment of prisoners that turn the stomach.’

Cassius was relieved that Simo didn’t go into any detail.

‘There’s one issue I might agree with the Christians about. War is one thing but an interest in needless torture and suffering is the mark of a feeble mind. Anyone who’s seen the parade of inbreds and freaks emerging wide-eyed from a gladiator contest can attest to that.’

‘May I ask something, sir?’

Cassius had just finished another sweep of the horizon.

‘You may.’

‘Why exactly are we journeying to Alauran? Forgive my question, I wish only for an idea of what awaits us.’

Cassius took a deep breath. When he replied, he found himself listening to his own words with an unsettling sense of detachment, as if they were being spoken by someone else.

‘An attack by the Palmyrans is expected. If there is no senior officer present, I will have to do what I can to ensure that the fort and its well do not fall into their hands. As to what precisely awaits us, I advise you take the position I have adopted. I think we’re just going to have to wait and see.’

As the sun dipped below the horizon and their shadows stretched away from them, the two riders reached the edge of the plain and turned south at the base of the hills. The pass was still a fair distance away and Cassius decided to make camp at the next suitable location.

It turned out to be a small hollow where a dried-up stream had eaten down into the soil. The site had been used before: several bulky stones lay round a circle of ash and an area at the base of a voluminous boulder had been cleared for sleeping.

‘This will do,’ said Cassius as he dismounted, ‘though a nice little cave would be ideal. The air already feels colder, but we can’t risk a fire in the open.’

Shaking the stiffness out of his legs, Cassius drank from his canteen and leaned back against the boulder, watching the last quarter of the sun disappear. Simo removed the saddles and tethered the horses to long ropes, which he tied off round a heavy stone. There was a little grass on the slopes above and both animals soon drifted away to investigate.

‘The desert is a cruel land, sir,’ observed Simo as he unpacked a saddlebag. ‘Not like Italy or Gaul, where the temperature often suits. Here it’s too hot by day, too cold by night.’

Cassius was yet to experience such a night, having previously spent the hours of darkness inside either a commandeered building or his spacious officer’s tent. Unfortunately, that was now on its way to Antioch.

Simo retrieved six blankets, which he folded over and lay on the ground in the shelter of the boulder. He gave his master four: two to sleep on and two to cover him.

‘Leaving just two for you, Simo. Well, you do have more natural insulation.’

‘Quite so, sir. Quite so.’

Cassius began to undress. His leather boots had seemed too large at first but now fitted nicely, and it took him a while to lever them off. The merchant who sold them to him had stated that the sturdy hobnailed soles would last for five hundred miles of walking on good road.

Next he removed his sword belt, which hung diagonally from his right shoulder, holding the weapon over his left hip. The arrangement had felt unnatural to begin with but he had soon seen the sense of keeping it free from other encumbrances at his waist, namely the military belt, key identifier of a Roman soldier.