"When I took Paperius' place, we talkedabout this particular siege," he began. "And he was of the opinionthat the ground was soft enough because of its proximity to therivers that the wall could have been undermined quite easily."
I tried to remember the total of all theconversations I had participated in with the praefectifabrorum attached to Crassus' army. He had been similar toFlavianus in many ways, although he was perhaps not quite ascrusty. And his eyebrows did not have a mind of their own, as Iremembered, watching Flavianus' now as they bobbed up and down onhis head. Even in pain, the sight threatened to make me chuckle, soI had to shove the thought away as I recalled why we had opted tobuild towers.
Remembering, I said, "Wait. The reason weused towers was due to two factors; Paperius said that it wouldtake a week to undermine the wall, and that there was a risk thatthe groundwater would flood any tunnel we tried to dig."
Flavianus nodded, a scowl on his face that Iknew did not necessarily reflect any displeasure, but seemed to behis natural expression.
"That's true," he conceded. "But it wasfaster that time for the very reason that it will take longer thistime. We cut down almost every tree from those hills over there."He pointed off to the northwest, where the bulk of the hills thathemmed in this river valley lay and, even from five miles away, Icould see that the slopes were bare of green.
I remembered what had gone into theconstruction of not just the towers, but the trench and multipleartillery positions that completely encircled Naissus, which at thetime I thought was a bit much as it was.
"Also, the fact is that I don't agree withPaperius on his assessment about the groundwater," he continuedcalmly. "I've actually tunneled in ground almost identical to this,and there wasn't any problem with flooding whatsoever."
Although I respected Paperius, the truth wasthat I trusted Flavianus more.
"Then let's dig some tunnels," I said,making a decision that I knew would be roundly criticized by themen.
If men were given a choice of travelingseveral miles, chopping down trees, then dragging them back tocamp, or staying near camp but digging in the dirt, they wouldchoose the former every time. Not surprisingly, digging is filthywork, and while they would spend more of their day chopping, thenloading the logs onto the wagons, and then have to follow thewagons back, making for a much longer day, they would at least beclean. However, if Flavianus was sure that digging would take lesstime, that was what they would do, no matter how heartily theycomplained. With that bit of business finished, I was about todismiss them so that I could get some rest, when there was theblast of a bucina, sounding the call that announced that thecamp was being approached by unknown parties.
Cursing, I told Lucullus, "Go get me a horseand bring him here."
He stared at me as if I had lost mymind.
"Prefect." He tried to sound respectful butfirm at the same time. "Surely you don't think you're going to geton a horse. Besides," he added, "I thought Ocelus was wounded."
"He is. That's why I said get me 'a' horse,"I replied impatiently, even as I started to swing my heavilybandaged leg out of the hammock.
For a moment, I was sure that I was going topass out again, but while the interior of the wagon grew suddenlydim, and a fresh spate of sweat broke out on my forehead, somehow,I managed to stay awake.
"And how do you think you're going to mounta horse?" Flavianus scoffed, not the least bit intimidated by theglare I gave him.
"Bring him up to the edge of the wagon," Iordered, making it up as I went along while trying to sound as if Ihad done this before. "I'll stand on the end of the wagon, thenjust lower myself down onto his back."
"You have lost your mind." Flavianus shookhis head, but I was pleased to see that Lucullus, with a clear showof reluctance, left the wagon.
"That may be, but I'm still in command ofthis army. Besides," I finished, "I think I know who this is andwhat it's about."
Although it was not quite as simple as I hadmade it out to be, I did manage to lower myself onto the back of ahorse, a black that I recognized belonged to the Tribune Capito. Bythis time, the bandage on my leg, as thick as it was, alreadyshowed a red spot on both sides of my thigh, and I was waging aserious battle against the almost overwhelming urge to vomit.Nevertheless, I managed to give the black a kick with my good leg,and I cannot describe my relief that instead of breaking out into atrot, the horse placidly walked in the direction I pointed him.Heading for the main gate, I heard the shouts of the duty Centurionand his men, and despite not being able to make out the words, Iknew they were telling whoever was approaching to halt where theywere. Lucullus, Silanus, and Capito were all mounted as well,riding alongside me as they pretended not to be watching my everymove, no doubt sure I was going to topple from the saddle. Imanaged to disappoint them, but just barely. Reaching the gate, Ibeckoned to them to follow me and, directing the black, exited thecamp. Facing us, but more than a hundred paces away, obeying theguard's command, were three horsemen, and I nudged my horsedirectly toward them.
"Greetings, Charax," I called out once wedrew close enough.
The man was clearly startled and surprised,but I saw his eyes narrow as he stared at me, finally giving a nodof recognition.
"Greetings...Prefect," he finally said inGreek, the same tongue in which I had addressed him. "Forgive me,but your name escapes me, although I do recognize you."
"I am Titus Pullus, Camp Prefect andcommander of this army." I decided not to give it a name, althoughI am not sure why.
"Ah, yes. Now I remember." He tried to soundcordial, but I could easily hear the undercurrent of bitterness inhis tone, and I will say that I understood his feelings.
The last time
