Final Campaign

report a new group of armed men, not with sufficient numbers tocause us any threat, but alarming nonetheless, that I recognizedthat we had crossed into Moesia. I immediately ordered a halt,summoning the Tribunes, Macrinus, and the new Primus Pilus of the13^th Legion, Lucius Flaminius, who had been the PrincepsPrior of the First Cohort, and had been Scribonius’ recommendationfor Primus Pilus, with which I had concurred. Fortunately, Norbanusagreed, since I had been afraid that he would want to do somethingalong the lines of Octavian, like to put a man in the post becausehe paid for it. How Natalis had become Primus Pilus at the hands ofOctavian was still a mystery to me, but I had resigned myself tothis being just one more of the unanswered questions I would carrywith me into the afterlife. Flaminius arrived first, followedshortly by Macrinus, along with the Tribunes, each of whom was incommand of the other contingents of our force. Libo commanded oursquadron of cavalry, composed of a mishmash of native tribes;Capito was in charge of the auxiliaries, of which there were alittle less than two thousand men, while Scipio, being the mostjunior, was responsible for the baggage train and all theattendants. As one can imagine, commanding the baggage was theleast desirable job, yet the reality is that it is without doubtthe most difficult of all these tasks and it should have beenperformed by the most experienced Tribune. There was no way thatwas happening, since no Tribune who had once held that post wouldever agree to do it again. Add to that the fact there was no chanceof covering oneself in glory with the baggage meant I had not evenattempted to change what had become a long-established custom.

“We’re in Moesian territory now,” Iannounced to the others when they had all arrived. “That means thatwe march with shields uncovered and, for the first day or two atleast, with helmets on.”

Neither Flaminius nor Macrinus showed anyemotion, but I knew they did not relish the idea of giving thatcommand. Men hate marching with their helmets on, for very goodreason. Although it was not particularly hot, the metal seems toabsorb every ray of sun, magnifying the heat so that even on acooler day, the felt helmet liner would be absolutely soaked withsweat by the first rest stop. The other difficulty was the weightof the helmet, pushing down on the neck muscles, bouncing withevery step taken, making men stiff and sore by the end of the day.But I was unmoved, knowing all too well what kind of havoc could bewrought by a sudden attack on an unprepared army. This is for you,Balbus, I thought to myself, and when I glanced over at Scribonius,who was sitting on his horse next to me, I could tell he was havingsimilar thoughts.

“Remember that we whipped them once, andCrassus took two thousand talents of silver from them. They’re notlikely to forget that, and they’re going to be watching for oneslip. So I want the flank guards doubled, and I want tighterspacing than what I’ve been seeing the last few days.”

I let my gaze linger on each man as I spoke,trying to impress on each of them the importance of what I wassaying. They seemed to be listening, but only time would tell ifthey had been paying attention.

Turning to Scipio, I finished, “The baggagetrain in particular is what they're going to be watching, which iswhy we’re going to put it in the middle. But that also means thatyou can't let the train stretch out, Tribune. I don’t care how youhave to do it; you must do everything in your power to make surethe wagons keep the proper amount of space between each of them. Doyou understand me?”

Scipio’s eyes were wide with apprehension,but he gave a quick nod. Satisfied I had done all I could do tothat point, I sent the others back to make the changes. Scriboniussat next to me, watching Macrinus, Flaminius, and the rest hurryback to their respective commands.

“You know we’re going to be moving a lotslower now,” was Scribonius’ only comment.

Coming from anyone else, I would havebristled at what I would take as an implied rebuke, but we kneweach other much too well for me to take offense.

“I know,” I acknowledged. “But until I getan idea of what these Moesians are about, I’m not willing to takeany chances.”

Scribonius made no immediate reply, insteadwatching Scipio gallop back in the direction of the baggagetrain.

“I don’t envy that boy one bit,” hecommented.

I answered with a noncommittal grunt, yet Iwas as worried about Scipio as Scribonius was. Even though thebaggage train is, strictly speaking, a part of the army, thereality is that the men driving the wagons are not Legionaries, andare in fact almost evenly divided between slaves and freedmen.Ideally, we wanted wagon drivers to be slaves, because we couldsubject them to the kind of discipline and punishment that was asharsh, and even harsher than that applied to the Legions. With aforce entirely composed of slaves, we could make doing things likeenforcing a tighter spacing easier. Despite how much I disliked thepractice, there is nothing like a good flogging to ensure thatone’s instructions are carried out perfectly. However, driving aheavily laden wagon over rough terrain is a special skill that notmany men possess. This meant that we had to rely on hired men who,while not citizens, were also not slaves, consequently reducing thetype of punishment available to the baggage commander. It was notunknown for freedmen to quit the baggage train because theyconsidered the baggage commander excessively harsh, although I didnot worry about that particular problem overly much. We were in themiddle of what at the very least was unknown territory, at leastconcerning the intentions of the Moesians. This fact made mebelieve the odds of members of the baggage train choosing to leavethe security of the army to take their chances with the Moesianswas very low, no matter how harsh Scipio turned out to be. Still,Scipio had a very challenging task ahead of him.

With our progress slowed by the new marchingarrangement, I had to revise my estimate of