Final Campaign

that we would have enoughtime to march to the city, with Marcus Primus at the head of thearmy. Despite being a figurehead for the most part, this was a timewhen he was needed, since even barbarians are rank conscious whenit comes to dealing with Romans. The leaders of Serdica were muchmore likely to listen to a Marcus Primus than a Tribune Lucullus,or Camp Prefect Pullus, for that matter. Of course, it was the armystanding behind us that would provide the ultimate persuasion, thatand the realization that over the last few days we had killed orcaptured the better part of ten thousand men. Our wounded and deadwere being cared for, one of the other barracks buildings onceagain serving as a hospital. The two hundred Thracians were stillinside the other when I arrived back at the fortress.

“We were going to storm the building, but wedecided to wait for you,” Macrinus explained.

I was happy that he had done so, because Ihad no desire to lose more men for just two hundred Thracians.Using a bandage tied to a javelin, I approached the barracksbuilding, calling out in Greek to the occupants. I saw one shuttermove slightly, and I could make out a dim figure standing justbehind it. Shoving the butt of the javelin into the ground, I heldboth arms out to show I meant no harm.

“I am Camp Prefect Pullus, and I am incommand of this army,” I called out. “And you can see what happenedto your comrades.” I gestured to the piles, the flies alreadybuzzing busily about them, feasting on the blood and gore. Theswarms had not yet arrived, but it would not take long, and Iwanted to be gone from here before that. “So you know there is noescape. However, I have no desire to shed the blood of my menneedlessly, so I am making you an offer. It is an offer that I willmake only one time.”

I paused, waiting for some response. Afterseveral moments, the shutter cracked open a little wider, anotherbearded man peering out. He had a bloody bandage wrapped around hishead, his face gaunt from all that he had witnessed.

“What is it, Roman?” he asked cautiously. Iwas sure he had to know it was not going to be anything heliked.

“Surrender now, and I promise that you willall live. You will join the other prisoners that we have alreadytaken.”

“Prisoners?” He gave a harsh, bitter laugh.“You mean slaves, don’t you? That is what you are offering us,Roman. Lives as slaves.”

Even from where I was standing, I could feelthe hostility and hatred radiating from the man.

I shrugged like it was of no importance tome, that much at least being the truth.

“But you will be alive. The other way leadsdown only one road.”

“Better to die as a free man, than live as aslave,” the Serdi spat.

“Maybe for you, but you should ask your menif they feel the same way.”

“I speak for my men.” He tried to soundassured, but I could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and hiseyes darted back to somewhere behind him. “And I know they feel thesame way.”

Suddenly, I began calling out in a loudvoice, using the power of the years spent as a Centurion, repeatingthe same thing I had just told the first man.

I saw the look of desperation cross hisface, and he moved to slam the shutter, but before he did, I toldhim, “You have the time it takes to count to one thousand todecide. Then I send in my men, and you know what will happen.”

He did not answer, slamming the shutter sohard that it splintered, and I picked up the javelin, walking ashort distance away. While we were waiting, I had the13^th begin moving back around to the north side of thefortress in preparation for moving to Serdica, but not before Idetached a Cohort.

“Your boys wanted to fight,” I toldFlaminius. “I can’t get the whole Legion into a fight, but here’syour chance. If they don’t come out, then you’re going in.”

I expected him to be happy about this, buthe had a morose look on his face, and I expressed my surprise athis disappointment. In answer, he simply pointed back over myshoulder. I turned to see a man standing in the doorway of thebarracks, waving a white rag.

“We surrender,” he called out.

I walked over and assured him that he andhis comrades would be safe, whereupon they came filing out, unarmedlike I had instructed, their heads down. At the very end of theline was the man with the bandage, his eyes blazing with a mixtureof disgust and anger, presumably at the men he was leading.Watching him be bound, I wondered how much of their reluctance tofight was because of his leadership, or lack of it. With thatresolved, we had nothing to do but wait for the Praetor to arrive,the 8^th filing out to form up with the13^th.

Marcus Primus finally arrived and he had atleast changed into his uniform, a good decision despite howridiculous it looked. Somewhat surprisingly, he appeared verynervous. Therefore, once we began marching to Serdica, I decided totalk to him.

“At least the hard work is done,” I began,yet his only reply was an absent nod, his eyes straight ahead.

It was easy to see that he was nervous, andI suppose he had every reason to be, because a lot was riding onhis ability to convince the people in Serdica to surrender withouta fight.

“What do you think will happen?” he suddenlyblurted out, looking embarrassed immediately.

“I think they'll understand that theirplight is hopeless, but a lot depends on you convincing them thatthere's an alternative.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if you give them the idea thatfighting to the death is at least as good an alternative, thenthat's what they’ll do.”

I wondered why I had to explain this, but Ireasoned that at least it would be better that there was noquestion about what he needed to do.

“So you’re saying that I should give themsome hope?”

I nodded, adding, “Where there’s life,there’s hope. The men in the barracks proved that. Their commanderwas sure that his men would be willing to fight to