“You and those tribes who have allied withyou to fight us are in violation of Roman law,” Primus replied, andI almost fell off my horse, this being not at all what I wasexpecting.
It was clear that I was not the only one,because I saw the Thracian’s jaw drop, his companions looking noless astonished.
“Roman law?” the Serdi finally managed togasp. “You are in Thrace, waging an unprovoked war on peacefulpeople, and you say that we are in violation of some Roman law?What law is that, for daring to defend ourselves? Perhaps we shouldhave been more gracious hosts and fallen on our swords foryou.”
There was some laughter at this, but it wasnot with any real humor.
“We are conducting a campaign of retributionagainst the Triballi for their unwarranted attack on a force ofRome five years ago,” Primus continued, ignoring the Serdi’s jibe.“You and other tribes made an unprovoked attack on this army whenwe were marching to conduct our campaign.”
This was such a bald-faced lie that italmost took one’s breath away, in all of its particulars, otherthan the fact that this had been described to me as an approvedventure to punish the Triballi. To that point, we had not seen aTriballi, as far as I knew, and our first contact with the Serdihad been when we had attacked the fortress outside Serdica.
“That is a lie!” The Serdi spokesman raisedhis voice for the first time, and his companions were clearly asoutraged. “We have made no such attack on you! You attacked us,without any provocation from any member of the Serdi tribe and nowyou are standing outside the gates of our city with an army!”
“You have your version, and we have ours,”Primus countered, completely unruffled by the outburst. “And it isRome’s version that counts. You, the Serdi, must be punished foryour crimes.”
“Haven’t you punished us enough?” the Serdiasked bitterly. “You have killed thousands of our warriors or takenthem prisoner already. There is hardly a home in our lands that hasnot suffered a loss of some kind, men that will never be seen bytheir families and loved ones. What more can you take from us?”
That was a stupid question; at least, thatwas the first thought that ran through my mind.
I could see the corner of Primus’ mouthtwitch, but he managed to sound regretful when he replied, “That isa fair question, a fair question indeed. In fact, I demand thepayment of ten talents of gold, delivered immediately, or we willtake this city and put everyone in it to the sword.”
My eyes were actually on the Serdi whenMarcus Primus spoke, and despite hearing gasps from the Tribunesand out of my own mouth, there was no such reaction by any of theSerdi at the mention of this exorbitant sum. Oh, they reacted, justnot with any real surprise. It was like they had expected him toname such a huge sum, I thought, and I was suddenly aware thatthere was something going on much deeper than I, or any of us, forthat matter, had expected. I recalled Masala’s conviction thatthere was something about Serdica in particular that had promptedMarcus Primus’ seeming obsession with this city. Perhaps this wasit, perhaps Primus knew, or thought he knew something about somesort of hidden wealth that the Serdi tribe possessed. The Serdispokesman said nothing for several moments, regarding Marcus Primuswith a tight smile, but there was nothing friendly in it.
“And how is it that Marcus Primus thinksthat we could possibly have that much money on hand?” he askedfinally, his eyes boring directly into Primus’.
“What I know and how I know it is nobody’sbusiness but my own,” Primus responded coolly.
“That may be true, but whatever informationyou have that the Serdi have anywhere near that much money iswoefully inaccurate. So, you may as well do what you will. Justknow that we will fight to the last breath of our body, until theSerdi of Serdica are wiped off the face of this Earth.”
Then, without saying another word, the Serditurned his horse about and began back toward the city. If hiscompatriots had any objections at him essentially sealing theircollective fates, they did not show it, none of them hesitating toturn and follow, leaving Primus, along with the rest of us, gapingin astonishment. Seeing the Praetor seeming to be frozen in place,with nothing coming out of his mouth, I nudged Ocelus and moved tohis side.
“You need to do something,” I hissed at him,making him start in the saddle, almost toppling over.
The cold mask of authority that Primus hadbeen wearing evaporated, a look of desperation replacing it.
“I know they have the money,” he protested.“I have it on the highest authority that they have a fortune manytimes the amount that I'm demanding.”
“And who told you this?”
He shook his head stubbornly, saying, “Ican’t divulge that to you, Prefect. But rest assured, it's someonewho's in a position to know these things.”
Could it be Octavian, I wondered? In someways, it made some sense. At least, it would explain why we werehere, knowing that the treasury of Rome was an every-hungry beastthat had to be fed from every source it could find. How he wouldknow about a previously obscure tribe possessing that kind offortune was not important to me, since he had long since proven tobe so well informed about almost everything that it came as nosurprise or stretch of the imagination.
“Well, whether it’s true or not, they'recalling our bluff, and I don’t think you want to take this city bystorm any more than I do. It will take a long time, and it willcost a lot of lives, even with their garrison reduced.”
“Wait!” Primus shouted, kicking his horseforward a few paces.
The Serdi had almost reached the gate, and Iwas sure that they would not stop, yet they did. Turning aboutslowly, they rode back to face us again, the original Serdi stillin the lead.
“Yes, Marcus Primus?” he asked coolly,seeming to unnerve Primus even more.
“Now see here.” All authority was gone fromhis tone. “Understand that I am not bluffing. And I do not want tobe excessively harsh.”
It took quite an effort
