"You better have a very good explanation forthis, Prefect." Primus at least had the good grace to lookembarrassed, and he was now fully clothed, the slave nowhere insight.
"I understand that Primi Pili Macrinus andFlaminius came to see you a short while ago," I began, but before Icould say anything further, he cut me off with a chopping gestureof his hand.
"Yes, yes. And don't waste your breath or mytime," he snapped. "My answer won't change. I am satisfied with theresults of this campaign and believe we have sent a message tothese Thracian scum they won't soon forget."
"I agree," I replied, completely throwingPrimus off balance, which was my goal. "I do think we've set anexample. And I'm not here to argue about your decision. I'm merelyasking what you're going to be paying the men as a bonus?"
"A bonus?" Primus repeated, looking at mewith what I can only describe as incredulity, his second chinquivering, I suppose at the very idea of sharing his money."Whatever for? They'll receive their normal pay, which I must say Ibelieve is more than generous. In fact, I've discussed at lengthwith Augustus what I consider to be his exceeding liberality inthis matter. If I had my way, you Legionaries would be paid at thesame rate that our ancestors were paid, and you would be happy toget it!"
"Then I suppose we should be thankful thatyou're not in Augustus' position." I kept my tone even, but it wasa struggle. "But your opinion, while interesting, is irrelevant tothe reality that not only are the men paid at this current rate,but it has been a custom for long before Augustus or Divus Julius,both of whom I served under," I felt compelled to add, "that on thecompletion of a successful campaign the men are paid a bonus overand above what they receive as their base pay."
"Custom it may be, but can you show me whereit's written on a bronze tablet?" Primus shot back, relying againon a legal nicety that had absolutely no relevance or meaning herein the wilds of Thrace.
Deciding it was time to show him some of mydice, I bent forward and placed both hands on his desk, toweringover him as I stared down at the fat little man, pleased to see himvisibly blanch.
"Do you really think that's going to stopthe men from tearing you to pieces for ignoring a custom that'sbeen around since long before either of us were here?" I askedsoftly.
"They wouldn't dare," Primus squeaked, evenas he leaned farther back in his chair as if he was afraid that Iwould leap across the desk. "I am the lawfully appointed Praetor,with Proconsular imperium! I am in command of thisarmy!"
"And these men hate you more than anygeneral that I've ever served under," I said genially. "Do youreally think that even if I, and the Centurions, were disposed todo so, that we could save you from them?"
"They would be scourged and crucified forlaying a hand on me!"
"By whom?" I asked, my tone still quiet. "Weare far, far from Rome, Praetor. And what you're proposing isultimately unjust. It's unjust to expect these men to march, tofight, and to see their friends die without the kind ofcompensation that they've come to expect."
Primus tried, for just a couple ofheartbeats, to hold my gaze before he finally looked away.
Closing his eyes, I knew he was signalinghis defeat.
"What do you want?"
"Me?" I shook my head. "I'm afraid that youand I will never understand each other, Praetor. This isn't aboutwhat I want, at least in terms of money. My fortune has been made,and I have more than I'll ever be able to spend. What I want isn'tmoney. But this isn't about me. This is about the men."
"Fine," Primus said tonelessly. "What do themen want?"
"Now, the men want money," Ireplied.
"How much?" he asked cautiously.
I thought for a moment, then said, "Athousand sesterces apiece for the rankers. Five thousand forCenturions up to the first grade, and ten thousand for them."
"What???"
For a moment, I had a fleeting hope thatMarcus Primus would actually die from a burst vessel, his faceturned so red so quickly.
"That's impossible!" he exclaimed, shakinghis head violently. "There is no way that I'll pay that much! Idon't care if they do tear me apart! That's robbery!"
Somehow, I doubt that you are thatunconcerned about being rendered limb from limb, I thought. But Ialso had named an exorbitant amount on purpose, because, honestly,getting the men their money was only a secondary goal.
"That may be." I tried to sound like Icommiserated somewhat. "But that's about how much the men wouldmake during a normal campaign from the towns taken and the moneythey made from the loot and the slaves we'd take."
"So." Primus looked at me warily. "Thatdoesn't come from the general's purse, then?"
"Not if there's enough opportunity on acampaign for them to get paid another way," I replied, hoping thatPrimus would snap at the bait that I was offering.
"But we haven't taken any towns or cities onthis campaign." Primus' face changed expression as the realizationdawned on him. "Except for Serdica."
"Which doesn't count because it didn't fallby the sword," I pointed out. "And the fortress only yielded abouta thousand slaves. Those Thracians we defeated when we attackedthem on the march? You didn't allow us to take prisoners," Ireminded him.
"Yes, yes," he growled irritably, waving atme as if I were a pesky gnat, which I suppose I was at that point.Heaving a huge sigh, he looked up at me through his eyebrows andasked, "What exactly are you proposing?"
"That we continue the campaign for anothermonth," I replied instantly, hurrying on before he could interrupt."This way, we give the men more opportunities to make their moneyby plunder, and if we capture every Triballi we encounter, we canhave enough slaves at the end that the men will be happy, and youwon't have to pull any money out of your own purse."
"Another month?" Primus wailed. "That long?I can barely stand the thought of another day, let alone amonth!"
"There's always the alternative," Isaid.
Suddenly slumping over, Primus closed hiseyes as he said tiredly, "Fine, fine! Very
