Final Campaign

so that I had some idea of what was happening to Gaius andhis Century. My anxiety provided the fuel I needed to ignore thescreaming in my arms, and I remember thinking that I was walking onmy arms for the first time, so it made sense that they were sofatigued. Finally, I reached a point where I could feel the heatfrom the still-glowing embers of the burned portion of the wall,but because of the veil of smoke that still drifted upward from thecharred remnants of the wall, I could only try to track the fightby the sounds.

Finding Macrinus standing nearby, I hoppedover to him and demanded, "What's going on?"

Without taking his eyes off the breach, hetold me, "Gaius' Century has cleared enough space for the rest ofhis Cohort. We're waiting now for the signal to feed another onein."

This was good news, but until I saw mynephew with my own eyes, alive and at least somewhat unscathed, Iwould not be satisfied. Consequently, I stayed put, waiting withMacrinus until we heard the blast of a cornu from the otherside of the wall, sounding the signal for a single Cohort.

At the sound, Macrinus left my side,shouting over his shoulder to me as he prepared to lead his Cohortinto Naissus, "I'll send Porcinus out as soon as I'm able!"

Thanking him, I shouted my wish for hissuccess, then leaned on my crutches as I heard the First Cohort ofthe 8^th give a huge shout as they went dashing into thesmoky darkness of the breach.

By dawn, Naissus had fallen, and I gave theorder that the men had been waiting for, and was the most welcomeafter an operation like this, opening the town for the men'spleasure. Within moments, the nature of the sounds changed fromthose of men engaged in mortal combat to them involved in otherpursuits, the sounds of women screaming punctuating the night air.There was still fighting going on, but only in isolated pockets,and the Centurions had matters under control to the point whereMacrinus and Flaminius had worked out the division of the town, andthe men of the 13^th were quickly pouring in through thenow-open gates to join their comrades. I had been forced to returnto my perch, and I could only sit and watch as our ever-efficientsystem began to assert itself. The Tribunes, not allowed toparticipate in the sacking of a town, it being considered unseemlyfor a noble young officer to drag a screaming woman from out of ahouse in front of her children and enraged but impotent husband tobe raped, were instead busy with the collection of the Moesianprisoners. At this point, it was almost exclusively men; warriorswho had either chosen or been forced to surrender, and theirchildren who were too slow to escape a Legionary grabbing for them.In order to maximize the chance for profit, I had impressed on thePrimi Pili the need to curb the men's bloodlust, and it appearedthat they had been successful. Helping my cause was the fact thatthis siege had not been particularly long, and as these affairswent, not brutal on either side, which always aroused the men'sdesire for vengeance when they were finally given the release tocreate mayhem. There was the matter of the lost standard, so I didexpect some retribution from the men, particularly from the men ofthe 8^th Legion, Fifth Cohort, to which the ambushedCentury belonged. But once their swords were bloody, I expectedthem to accept the surrender of any Moesian who offered it, and Isaw that this was happening. With two Centuries to help them,Lucullus and Libo were busy doing a quick check and count of theprisoners, dividing them according to their fate. Although I hadbeen in one of those Centuries involved in the sorting ofprisoners, fortunately for me it had been long ago, in Gaul, and ofall the horrible things I have seen in my career, this routinematter, for Romans anyway, while efficient, is heart-breaking andbrutal. I will not go into more detail than to say that slaversnever accept babes in arms, or those children who cannot walk ontheir own. Since we were taking everyone in Naissus, that meantonly one thing would be done with these children, and I did notknow of many men, with a notable few exceptions, who took anypleasure in what they had to do in order to solve that problem.Added to the sounds of the night were the shrill cries of childrenin mortal terror, accompanied by the anguished moans and cursesfrom their helpless fathers, for I was sure that more than one manwatched a child or children belonging to him be slain. As much asit was business as usual after a Legion of Rome takes a town, Istill preferred not to watch. However, my attention was still drawnin that direction as I watched for any sign of Gaius returning toreport that he was safe. Macrinus had sent a runner perhaps a thirdof a watch after Gaius and his Century charged into the breach, andabout a sixth part after the First Cohort followed, to tell me thatthe assault was progressing as expected, but that was the last Ihad heard. Hearing a rumbling sound behind me, I turned to see awagon rolling out, and I knew that it was carrying the irons thatwere about to be placed around the hands and ankles of these newprisoners. While some men dug tunnels, the metalworkingimmunes had been busy turning the ingots of iron that wecarry with us into these manacles. As I said, it is efficient, andno detail is too small or insignificant for a Roman commander tooverlook. A good one, anyway.

Diocles had brought me some refreshment, andwhile I appreciated it, I felt even more useless than I alreadydid, reminded of Marcus Primus when he sat in the shade watching usslaughter the remnants of the three Thracian tribes that had takenumbrage at our incursion into their lands. What would make itcomplete was a bucket of snow brought down from the mountain by aslave, I mused ruefully, but I will admit that my leg did hurt, andthe wine was a good vintage. Sipping from the cup,