The smoothed and rounded stones that weighedten pounds were our heaviest ammunition, and while the nearby riverwould provide a plentiful supply of stones that were at leastsmooth from the action of the water, without a perfectly roundshape, they are wildly inaccurate. Because of their weight, therewere a limited number of ten-pound stones, carried in wooden racksin a wagon that kept them separate and from striking against eachother in the bouncing wagon, getting knocked out of round.
“The spot that I like isn’t perfect, either.But with that depression, they’ll have a direct shot at that crack,so there won’t be any glancing blows that only do a minimum ofdamage. Of course,” he continued, “we’ll need plutei toplace in front of the artillery to provide the men with someprotection. But we’ll make slits so they can spot where their shotsare hitting.”
I was about to open my mouth to offer what Isaw as the strengths of my chosen spot that the other didn’t have,but he was not finished.
“Lastly, look at the approach to the spotyou want. It’s much more difficult to get to, and we’ll probablyhave to break the artillery down into even smaller pieces than itis in the wagons right now so that it can be loaded on mules,because there’s no way men could carry the parts the way they arefrom where we’d have to unload the wagons.”
I shut my mouth, saying nothing becauseFlavianus had clinched his argument with his last point, since Iimmediately saw that he was right. Like Flavianus himself hadadmitted, there were problems with both positions, yet when lookingat the complete operation that it would take to get the artilleryinto place, his choice carried the day. With that decided, we hadseen everything we needed to, and we returned to where the rest ofthe army waited. I did have a strong desire to scout the far sideof the fortress, because the nagging fear in the back of my mindwas that there was another way up to that fortress, directly fromSerdica down in the valley below. If there was, the Thracians couldfeed men, supplies, and whatever missile ammunition they needed ina never-ending stream, chopping us to pieces in the process.
Camp had been constructed by the time wemade it back, where I immediately called for a meeting with MarcusPrimus. On the way back, I had dropped behind to find Masala, whohad been riding near the rear of our party by himself.
“You look like you have a lot on your mind,”I began. The young man gave a laugh tinged with bitterness.
“You could say that,” he agreed, although hedid not elaborate at first. We rode along, with me fighting mynormal impulse to keep talking to cover the silence, waiting to seeif he opened up. I was definitely intrigued by Masala and wherethings stood with him and the Praetor at this point, since it wasbecoming obvious to me that there was a growing rift, at least asfar as Masala was concerned.
“I don’t know why I ever agreed to come withhim,” he finally blurted out, still staring straight ahead.Somehow, I sensed that this was still not the time to speak,instead letting him open up at his own pace. I was rewarded amoment later as he continued talking.
“But he was already in the Senate, and therumor is that he’ll be standing for Consul in the next year. He’sbeen handpicked by Augustus.”
That explained much; despite Octavian stillbeing the Princeps Senatus, it was no secret that he and he aloneselected the men who were to run for Consul. It had been customaryfor as long as anyone could remember that Senatorial provinces likeMacedonia were only given to men who had already served as Consul.This was done so they would have Proconsular imperium, a power thatis absolutely essential to govern a province because it gives theholder the ability to select his own Legates, hold courts, andbasically decide the fate of every inhabitant, citizen ornon-citizen alike. However, no matter how much Octavian liked toproclaim publicly that he was restoring Rome to its traditions,like his adopted father, he was quick to usurp those traditions forwhich he believed the Republic no longer had any use. Besides,thanks mainly to Gaius Julius Caesar, the Republic had grown fasterthan the pool of available Consuls had, so it made perfect sense toendow men like Marcus Primus with Proconsular imperium before theyhad been Consul, especially if Octavian planned on making PrimusConsul in the next year.
“How did Marcus Primus become a client ofAugustus?” I asked idly, still not completely convinced that Masalahad not been sent by Primus to ferret out something incriminatingout of my mouth.
“They gamble together, and while Primus maynot be very smart about a lot of things, he’s a better gambler thanAugustus.”
That did not take much, from everything Ihad heard, something I will admit I found surprising. There is noquestion that in almost every other thing, Augustus is a brilliantman and he is clearly favored by the gods. I suppose that perhapsthis was the one thing the gods refused him since he was so blessedin every other way.
“So what are you saying? That Augustus hasbecome Primus’ patron because he owes Primus money?”
I found that very hard to believe, butMasala simply shrugged and said nothing.
“How do you know Primus?”
“Through my father,” Masala answered. “Hearranged for us to meet.”
There was no mistaking the anger andbitterness in his words, and I shot him a sidelong glance. Could itbe possible that Masala’s father, knowing of Marcus Primus’proclivities, had essentially pimped his son out to the man inorder to further the family fortunes? Years ago, that thought wouldhave never crossed my mind, but I had learned much about the upperclasses in the intervening time, so that now I found it all tooeasy to believe.
“At least you’ll be very well set up for thefuture.” I actually felt sorry for the
