Final Campaign

the slope. Wasthere an ambush waiting just on the other side of this rise I wasabout to top? It would have been a smart thing to do; while theycertainly could not keep us from performing a thorough examinationof the fort, they did not have to make it easy for us to do so, andI was expecting just that sort of thing in an attempt to disruptus. Ocelus, who I had come to rely on to alert me to danger, showedno sign that he sensed the presence of the enemy nearby, so Itouched his ribs with my heels, moving a few more feet until wewere at the top. There was no ambush party waiting, and I waved tothe others that it was safe to come up. One by one, their animalslabored up the steep slope, under the watching eyes of theThracians. Meanwhile, I examined the fort closely. I immediatelysaw that it was built with what looked like native rock, but it hadnot been quarried or finished. Instead, the wall was a hodgepodgeof rocks fitted together in a disjointed fashion, with mortarplaced in the cracks in between. The walls were not very high, butthey did not have to be, and I supposed that was one reason theyhad chosen the method of building, since walls of this constructioncannot stand high or they will collapse under their own weight. Icould also see that this fort was very old, and I assumed that itbeen built back in the times when all of this land had been ruledby Greece, long ago. Macrinus had pulled up alongside me, giving alow whistle.

“Not that I’m surprised, but you were right.That thing is definitely within range of the road.”

I said nothing, still studying the walls,thinking about the best way to reduce this fortress. There waslittle doubt in my mind that when this had been built, it wouldhave been considered impregnable, but much had changed since thosedays, mainly thanks to Rome. We had turned the art of siegecraftinto a science, creating new tactics and weapons that these wallshad never seen before. My one concern was that I could see that thewalls were very thick, tapering from the bottom to the top,worrying me for two reasons. First, thicker walls are naturallyharder to breach, but more importantly for our purposes, even withthe tapering, the rampart was more than wide enough to accommodateartillery of almost all sorts. I did not think that the Thraciansrelied much on artillery, and in fact had never heard of them usingit in battle. However, the Greeks certainly did, and I could notdiscount the Greek influence on the Thracians. No artillery wascurrently visible, yet that did not mean that it was not hidden outof sight, waiting to be pushed up ramps built for that purpose. Wewere now close enough to make out individuals, although faces couldnot be seen, and it was not long before the rude gestures andinsults started being tossed back and forth. Again out of nowhere,I was suddenly reminded of Scribonius’ bemusement at thesedisplays, something he could never understand and invariablycommented on whenever we witnessed one. I chuckled at the thought,and Macrinus shot me a surprised look.

“I’m glad you think this is funny, because Idon’t.”

While his tone was that of playful banter, Icould hear the worry just under the surface.

“No, I was thinking of something else,” Ireplied, regretting it immediately because he now looked even morealarmed.

To diffuse the tension of the moment, Icalled over Flavianus to ask him his opinion. He sat his horse,scowling at the fortress, and I had to remind myself that this washis normal expression, not any indication that he was disheartenedor worried. I just hoped Macrinus remembered that.

“Two ways I see going about it.” He reachedfor a piece of day-old bread from inside his tunic, tearing at itwith his teeth, making it hard to understand him as he talked.

“The first way is the standard way; create abreach with the artillery, use the scorpions to scour the ramparts,then send in Macrinus and his boys in.”

“My boys?” Macrinus asked, and I was notsure if he were serious or not. “Why my boys? Why not the13^th?”

“Because they fought the last battle. Youremember, don’t you? The one that got that bunch of Thracians’noses out of our ass?”

I was being overly sarcastic, yet I wasnettled by Macrinus’ seeming reluctance. Thankfully, he chose notto reply. Turning back to Flavianus, I encouraged him tocontinue.

“The second way would be bloodier, but itwould also be quicker, and it may be our only real choice,” he saidgrimly. “Build ladders. Those walls don’t look much higher thanfifteen feet, twenty at the highest, but there are only one or twoplaces I see from this side where the ground is level enough thatthey could be used. No doubt, those bastards know that as well aswe do, so I would expect their best men to be there. We would usethe scorpions for as long as we could, but then there would be themoment we would have to cease fire.”

Flavianus turned to me, and this time hisscowl was very real.

“And that will be costly.”

Flavianus was just confirming what I hadbeen thinking as well, but hearing it spoken aloud was still adisappointing feeling.

“We haven’t seen the other side,” Macrinusput in hopefully. “It might be better over there.”

“It might,” I granted, pointing at thecraggy face that reared up behind the fort. “But we can’t passaround the front, down in the valley along the road, and that lookstoo steep to climb to me, especially with ladders andscorpions.”

“Could we undermine the walls?” Lucullus hadjoined the conversation.

Despite it being a sensible question, theanswer was clear to anyone with experience. Fortunately, Flavianuslooked irritated already.

“The ground’s too rocky,” he commented.Pointing to what looked like a boulder partially buried in theground, covered with short grass and some scraggly shrubs, heexplained, “That might look like just a rock buried in the dirtthere, but I can assure you, Tribune, that it’s just part of themountain that’s exposed. If we were to try and tunnel through that,we would be here next year and still wouldn’t have made it underthe walls.”

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