“I apologize, Prefect. I have obviouslyfailed you in some way.”
It took me a moment to realize that Scipiothought that my changes had something to do with the job he hadbeen doing with the baggage train.
“Not at all, Tribune. In fact, I was goingto commend you on the job you'd been doing with the baggage train,”I lied.
Whereas it was true that he had performedadmirably in making sure that the wagons stayed as tightly spacedas possible, it had not occurred to me to acknowledge him for ituntil he expressed such obvious distress at the idea he had notdone a good job. The youngster brightened immediately, lookinginordinately pleased with himself, apparently not seeing the grinsof the others. I had not rescinded the order to march in armor,except I did relent with the helmets, since there had been no signof a force of Moesians large enough to cause us mischief. I alsodetached two Cohorts, one from each Legion to escort the baggagetrain, along with the auxiliaries. Our pace picked up immediately,the main body no longer being encumbered by the pace of the baggagetrain. Things went back to the normal rhythm of the march; theLegions would arrive at the campsite to begin the work of makingcamp, which I demanded be constructed according to the standardsset by Caesar so many years ago, with the wider and deeper ditchesand the higher rampart.
Shortly before dark, the baggage train wouldarrive under escort, the heavy baggage that was needed to finishthe construction of the camp broken out, with the rest of thebaggage that was not for immediate use gathered inside the campwalls. The camp followers, a relatively small group because of thesize of the army, would make their own camp a short distance awayon the other side of our ditch and palisade, always on the PortaPrincipalis sides, either left or right, depending on thatevening’s camp. They were never allowed to camp on the side of thePraetorian Gate, because that would be our direction of march thenext day, and the Decumana Gate was off limits as well. I do notremember specifically when it occurred, but one day, Scribonius andI were riding together when young Scipio came galloping up,showering us with dirt when he jerked to a stop.
“Prefect, I wanted to report that there's agroup of Moesians trailing behind us!” Since this was not anydifferent from any other day, I waited for more from the Tribune,regarding him with a raised eyebrow. Seeing my face, he becameflustered, stammering out, “It’s just that they’re closer now thanthey’ve ever been to the baggage train. They seem to be having somesort of conversations with some of the camp followers. I think theymight be up to something!”
Scribonius and I exchanged amused glancesbecause we both knew what was happening, having seen it many, manytimes before.
“They are up to something, Tribune, but Iassure you that it’s nothing to worry about.” Scribonius’ tone heldno rebuke.
Scipio looked at each of us, clearlyconfused.
“With all respect, Evocatus,” Scipio askedstiffly, “how can you be so sure? The camp followers may be givingthem information that they can use against us.”
“Oh, they're giving them something allright.” I laughed. So did Scribonius, but Scipio was still clearlymystified. Deciding that this could be a valuable lesson for theTribune, I asked him, “Tribune, you're obviously very observant.What did you see, exactly?”
He paused, his face a study of doubt sincehe had learned by this point that I rarely asked a question withoutsome deeper purpose behind it.
“I saw a group of the Moesians approach oneof the wagons of the camp followers,” he said cautiously. “Thereappeared to be some sort of conversation, then one of themdismounted and jumped into the wagon. After a short time, the firstman left the wagon, then another one took his place in thewagon.”
I must say it was amusing to watch therealization dawn on him, his face suddenly flushing.
“Oh, they’re….” His voice trailed away, andI nodded in confirmation.
“Yes, Tribune, they're conductingbusiness.”
The boy gave a rueful laugh, then turnedserious.
“Does that happen often? That men who mightbe our enemies have congress with the camp followers?”
“All the time,” I assured him. “I’ve evenseen it happen when we were engaged in open hostilities, not onlyat times like this when they're just following us.”
“But why do we allow it to happen?”
This was actually a sensible question, and Iturned to Scribonius to provide the answer.
“For a couple of reasons,” my friend said.“First, it would require that we essentially guard the campfollowers’ train along with our own baggage, and no commander isgoing to be willing to devote men to that. So, since we can’t stopit, we actually use it to our advantage. Over the years, the campfollowers have proven to be a very valuable source of informationfor us because they report back to us things that they've heardfrom their customers on the other side.”
“Doesn’t that work both ways? Couldn’t theMoesians be gathering information on us from the camp followers?They are whores, after all, so I can’t imagine that it would be toohard to find their price.”
“They could,” Scribonius conceded. “But it’snot likely, because we're their protection out here in thewilderness. If they
