“We could hurt them, and hurt them badly,but I don’t know if we could finish them on our own.”
In that moment, I knew that Flaminius hadbeen the right choice to lead the 13th. He did not backdown from the task, but neither did he over commit his men to atask he did not believe they could perform because other eyes wereon him. I turned to Macrinus to ask him the same question, moreconfident that he would give me an honest answer, simply because Iknew him better. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then gave areluctant shake of his head.
“I would have to say the same, Prefect. Nodisrespect to Flaminius here, but my boys are better than his. Theywould have their hands full, and it would be a close thing. I thinkthey could pull it off, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it.”
Despite it being the answer I expected, Iwas still disappointed. Shaking both Legions out to attack wouldtake too long and ruin any chance of surprising the Thracians, andour dilemma highlighted the one shortcoming I had observed duringmy years under the standard. Romans fight most effectively when weare organized, and maintain unit cohesion; as time has proven,provided we are well led and properly trained, there is not yet aforce on this Earth that can defeat us. However, we sacrifice speedof movement for that organization, and that is where the barbariantribes have the advantage. They are already inherently in disarray,every man fighting essentially as a lone warrior and not as part ofa unit. In this particular situation, that was an advantage forthem that I was racking my brain to overcome. Finally, indesperation, I took the risk of actually pushing myself up to astanding position while still on Ocelus’ back, balancing myselfprecariously on my saddle as I strained my eyes to examine theThracians. Ocelus reacted to the change in weight by taking anervous step, almost sending me falling, but I managed to retain mybalance after murmuring a few words to my horse, who settled downand did not move again. In what had become their practice, theThracians had stopped when we had stopped, this delay now simplypart of the routine of the daily march. At least that was what Ihoped, for they were too far away to tell if they were paying closeattention to what we were doing. Deciding that I would take therisk, I lowered myself carefully back into the saddle to beginrelaying orders to the assembled men.
Resuming the march, my heart was poundingwith the tension I felt, wondering if I had made the rightdecision. It would not be long before I knew one way or the other,and I suppose that my state of nerves was exacerbated by theconfrontation I had just had with Marcus Primus. He had chosen notto attend the briefing, deeming that a snack of bread, cheese, andhoney, washed down with wine of undoubtedly excellent quality, wasmore important. I had not fought hard to have him attend, it mustbe said. Therefore, when he saw the flurry of movement shortlybefore the bucina sounded the call to resume the march, hepulled himself up off the ground where he had been sitting under atree. With the help of one of his slaves, he mounted his black tocome bouncing over to me. He was clearly irritated, except I didnot know whether it was because something was happening that he hadnot been consulted about, or that his lunch had beeninterrupted.
“What is going on, Prefect?”
I explained what I was doing and, to mysurprise, a look of horror crossed his face.
“You can’t be serious,” he gasped. “You aregoing to attack?”
“Praetor, you made it clear that you thoughttaking the fight to the Thracians now was a good idea,” I replied,feeling a tightness in my chest, struggling to control myself. Iwas finding that every moment I spent in the presence of MarcusPrimus created a war of emotions inside me that was frankly wearingme out.
“But I didn’t think you would actually doit,” he insisted, and I could see that he was struggling tomaintain his composure much like I was. In the manner of allarmchair generals, Marcus Primus was bold and willing to shed theblood of his enemy and his men when it was all an abstract concept.Now he was faced with the harsh reality that, in a few moments, menwould be killing each other, with some of our men dying in theprocess. It was inevitable, just as it was inevitable that thePraetor’s nerve failed him at that moment.
“You can’t attack.” He shook his head. “Iforbid it.”
“Praetor, do I have to remind you of theconversation we had just a short while ago? When I in fact said Iwasn’t going to attack, you said that they needed to be taught alesson. Something about hyenas, as I recall.”
Primus looked trapped, which he was, even ifit was a trap of his own making. I pressed the advantage, not aboveplaying on his vanity.
“And as I thought about it, the more Irealized that you were right. In fact, I daresay that this attackis your idea, and is a stroke of genius, worthy of Caesar.”
I must admit that I found it hard to get thewords out, yet they had the desired effect. Giving me a sidelonglook, Primus sat a bit straighter in the saddle.
“Really?”
Evidently hearing the surprise in his ownvoice, he hurried on.
“I mean, yes, I suppose that you are rightto use my idea, Prefect. It’s just that I didn’t expect that youwould choose to follow my orders so willingly. Given our history, Imean.”
I supposed that Primus was trying to begracious, so I continued playing the game, smearing more honey onthe turd.
“Praetor, I recognize a good idea when I seeit, no matter who it comes from. If it is the best thing to do forthis army, and for our campaign, then I will do my best to see itthrough.”
Primus inclined his head, mollified by myfulsome words, despite still being clearly nervous.
“Very well, Prefect.” He raised his voiceand I was sure
