Moving west, back in the direction of theStrymon, we marched until we came within sight of the riverbankbefore heading north, the tail of the ridge where the Thracians hadbeen waiting for us, now several miles away, descending down to theriver valley on our right. Even though I had little illusion thatour march would escape their notice, I was still a bit disappointedwhen one of the outriders on our right flank came galloping back toreport the sighting of another mounted group sitting on the highground, watching us march past. Now we had to worry about theThracian commander using his wits, moving quickly to bring hisforce down on our flank by traversing the length of the ridge west.I ordered Macrinus to detach two Cohorts, sending Capito along withhim, ordering the Tribune to have his men bring out their slingsand make them ready.
“I want you to use the slingers to drivethose men off the hill,” I told Capito, adding, “if you can.”
I turned to Macrinus and the two Centurionshe had selected, my heart skipping a beat at the familiar face ofGaius’ Pilus Prior, Palma. Gaius was now the Hastatus Posterior ofthe Seventh, the most junior Centurion in the entire Legion,despite his position in the Seventh.
“Once Capito and his auxiliaries dislodgethose bastards, I want you to set up a blocking position across theridge. I’m also detaching some of the Evocati to stay with you toact as scouts and messengers.”
I turned to Scribonius, who already knewwhat was coming, but I said it anyway.
“You’re in charge of the Evocati. I’ll sendsomeone back with our camp location.” I squinted up at the sun,judging how much time was left. “We’ll probably make another six orseven miles. You should be able to reach us easily enough.”
“If the Thracians let us.”
I looked at Scribonius, somewhat surprisedthat he was so pessimistic. I was also a little irritated that hevoiced that pessimism in front of others.
“I don’t think you’ll have any problems,” Isaid, admittedly a little harshly. “Because if the Thraciansattack, then we have the excuse we need. Even though we’re in theirterritory, they’re a client state and, as far as they know, wemight just be marching through into Dacia.”
Scribonius considered, then nodded hishead.
“You’re probably right,” he conceded. “Sowhat do we do if they approach us under flag of truce to ask thatvery thing?”
Naturally, he had brought up something thatI had not thought about. As much as I hated to go to him, this wasa question for Marcus Primus. Telling the others to wait, I trottedover to where the Praetor was still sulking with Masala by hisside, like always. I relayed the question that Scribonius hadraised. Primus looked back at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Why are you asking me? You’ve taken overthis campaign, you and your dirty low-class Legions.”
Well, it is a military operation, I thoughtto myself. Who better?
But I did not voice those thoughts, sayinginstead, “You're mistaken, Praetor. As you've said yourself, yourProconsular imperium far outstrips my lowly station. And this ismore of a political question, of which you know much more aboutthan I do.”
Like I had hoped, this seemed to soothe hisruffled feelings, and he puffed out his chest, rubbing his chin inthought.
“If they do approach under flag of truce,then simply tell them that we're passing through to Dacia, underorders from Rome.”
This was actually a sound order, and madesense. The Thracians may not have believed it, but they would haveenough doubt that their commander would most likely try to checkour story, and that would take days, if not weeks. I trotted Ocelusback, relaying the orders to Capito, who was the ranking officer ofthe detachment. With these dispositions made, we continued themarch. Before I left, I went to Scribonius, who was sitting on hishorse, talking to another Evocati.
“I really don’t think you’ll have anytrouble, but take care of yourself anyway.”
He grinned at me, a gap showing where he hadrecently lost another tooth, something that I was still managing toavoid for the most part.
“I don’t have the talent for trouble thatyou do. I’ll be fine.”
We parted, and I headed back to my spot inthe column, with Scribonius rejoining the rest of the Evocati andplacing them behind the two Cohorts. The auxiliaries had beenshaken out into open formation in front of the Cohorts. Once ready,the whole force started up the hill. They continued marching, theThracians milling about nervously, seemingly confused about whatwas happening, which was understandable. Finally, when theauxiliaries acting as slingers got within range, the Thraciancommander gave the order to withdraw, suddenly turning about totrot back east along the ridge, presumably to meet with theoncoming Thracian army and report what was happening. We slowlymoved far enough away to the point that I could not make outindividuals, just seeing the dark lines represented by the twoCohorts settling into their position athwart the ridge. Because ofthe width of the ridge, I could see that both Pili Priores had beenforced to use all of their Centuries in the first line in order tocover it entirely. Just beyond their position, barely visible onthe horizon above the ridge, I could see a smudge that might havebeen mistaken for a cloud, but knew from experience was dust. Iassumed that this was the main body of Thracians heading westwarddown the ridge. Even if it was, there was nothing I could do atthat point, and we continued to march.
Making camp about seven miles from theridge, the men erected a strong camp on a hill with a gentle slopeon the northern face, and a steeper side on the opposite slope,this being the likely approach of the Thracians. With the menworking, I found myself looking south, watching the horizon for thetelltale dust that would signal that our detachment was marching tojoin us. Finally, shortly before sundown, I spotted what I had beenlooking for. A short time later, we spotted a small group ofhorsemen that turned out to be the
