Primus did not say anything, and wecontinued the ride in silence, the walls of the city becomingvisible. The men behind us were similarly silent, all of us knowingthat much was riding on the next period of time. We moved quickly,leaving the baggage train behind, under guard, of course, knowingif things worked out as we hoped the contents of the train wouldnot be needed. Just after we topped a low rise, I saw that we haddrawn close enough to Serdica to make out details, and Iimmediately noticed that the walls were lined with people. My heartsank, realizing that we were expected, and while it should not havebeen a surprise that we had been spotted, something in my gutwarned me that there was a reason for the presence of so manypeople.
“They must have seen us coming from a longway off,” Lucullus commented from his spot next to me.
My response was simply to shake my head,sure that there was more to it than that. When we got to within afurlong of the city walls, I saw the city gates open, so I orderedan immediate halt. Emerging from within the city came a small groupof mounted men, one of them carrying a white flag, signaling thatthey wanted to talk.
“Praetor, this is your moment,” I toldPrimus.
I expected him to look eager, or at leastready to face the Serdi. Instead, his fat face was wrinkled frombrow to chin in a worried scowl, gazing at the men who had pulledup a hundred paces or so away from the walls of the city.
“What if it’s a trap? What if they want tokill me for all that I've done to them?”
I should have said something reassuring,using a soothing tone the way one would with a skittish horse.
I suppose it is just that I was so worn downfrom all that had taken place, and from Primus’ constant and totalself-absorption that it caused me to snap, “By the gods, man, gethold of yourself. They could care less about you. It’s those menbehind you that they’re worried about. Those men are the oneswho've done them injury, not you.”
Primus’ features seemed to become infusedwith a glowing pink color as he stared at me furiously. He openedhis mouth to say something, then snapped it shut and turned to facethe city.
Instead, he kicked his horse forward and,with a curt, “Follow me,” he went to face the Serdi.
Finally, you are acting like a Roman Legate,I thought, following him, but making sure that I stayed a shortdistance behind. Primus turned and, seeing that Masala was notfollowing, a hesitant look on the boy’s face, waved to him to comealong as well.
“All of the Tribunes will come,” Primuscommanded, and I was about to object, because if it was a trap andthey managed to kill or capture the entire command group, the armywould be essentially leaderless.
However, I quickly realized that if I did,in Primus’ current mood, he would do exactly that thing anyway,just to spite me, so I kept my mouth shut. Lucullus, Libo, Capito,and Silanus all joined us quickly, having to go to a canter tocatch up. Primus remained looking straight ahead, sitting as erectas I imagine it was possible for him to do, and for a brief moment,he actually looked imposing. I was happy that his horse’s headobscured the view of his pot belly, even if the plume was stillridiculously high, but he was wearing his paludamentum andcarrying the ivory baton that is the symbol of Proconsularimperium. I think what made him so formidable were the two Legionsarrayed in formation, along with the auxiliaries and the bulk ofthe cavalry on each wing. As armies go, it certainly was notanything on the scale of Philippi or even Pharsalus, but twoLegions are nothing to trifle with for our adversaries.
Drawing up a dozen paces away from thewaiting Serdi, I took the time to examine our enemy, looking forany signs of nervousness, or shifting about that might give awarning of an impending attack. There were a half dozen men presentand, while their expressions were all variations of the sameunhappiness at their plight, I did not see anything that wouldindicate that our lives were in imminent danger. Still, just toremind these men who they were dealing with, I kept my hand on thehilt of my sword as Ocelus, sensing the tension in the air, dancednervously about. The men were clearly tribal nobility and the onewho I assumed would be their spokesman was a barrel-chested man ofwhat looked like medium stature, with an almost completely whitebeard, but his long hair was still predominantly black, making fora startling contrast. His face seemed to be a mixture of the two aswell; the seams in his face spoke of many days squinting in thesun, his skin looking like a piece of tanned leather, much as minedoes. However, his eyes were those of a younger man, bright andalert, yet even from where I was sitting, the sadness in them wasevident. He was not wearing armor, dressed instead in a simpletunic, over which he was wearing a robe with some sort ofembroidering on it that I could not make out. Despite his lack ofmartial wear, I could see that he was, or had been a warrior and Iwondered if he was the commander of the garrison.
“I am Marcus Primus, governor of Macedonia,Legionary Legate, and I carry this symbol of my Proconsularimperium that empowers me to speak on behalf of the Senate andPeople of Rome,” Primus began, and I had to admit that whatevernervousness he had been experiencing was nowhere in evidence,speaking in ringing, but not strident tones, his voice carryingclearly.
He was speaking in Greek, and the leader ofthe Serdi delegation responded in kind.
“We know who you are, Marcus Primus,” theman said in a baritone voice, the quality of his tone sounding likea metal pot full of gravel being shaken about.
