“You said you weren’t planning on leadingthe assault.” Diocles could barely contain his anger, knowing thatfor a slave to berate his master, especially out in the open, wouldforce me to take an action that neither of us wanted.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I replied,despite knowing how weak that sounded. “But I can’t let those boystake the kind of risk that it’s going to take to put those laddersdown.”
“That’s their job, and you’ve done more thanyour share of that in your time,” he shot back. “Besides, you’resuch a huge target that there’s no way that a blind Thracian couldmiss you, let alone one with a good set of eyes.”
“But I’m also one of the only men strongenough to carry more than one section of ladder, and still hold ashield.”
For that was my plan, such as it was. I hadno desire to commit suicide, but I did not feel right in sendingmen on such a dangerous assault when I knew in my heart that I wasone of the few who had the experience and strength to carry it out.Even in my fifties, I still had more than my share of hubris, yet Ireckoned that I had also more than enough scars to prove that itwas not just an idle boast. However, I could not do this alone; weneeded at least four prongs to our assault to happensimultaneously, spread across the rubble pile, so I went toMacrinus.
“I need three of the strongest men in yourLegion, not just in the First Cohort,” I told him. “And they haveto be willing to do this. I won’t force any man against hiswill.”
This may sound fair, but it is not,something both Macrinus and I knew. No man wants to be thought ofas a coward, so no matter what Macrinus told them about not holdingit against them if they chose not to participate, no Legionaryworth a brass obol would be willing to shame himself in front ofhis comrades. Once their Primus Pilus pointed at them, each manwould feel obligated to go along, no matter how dimly they viewedtheir chances of survival. It is a harsh reality, but it has beenthis way since long before I ever joined, so I did not feel thatbadly about putting them on the spot. I well remembered the firsttime I had been singled out, something that had happened oftenbecause of my size and strength, when my then-Pilus Prior GaiusCrastinus had selected me to follow him over the wall of the firsttown we assaulted when we were in Hispania. The Praetor and Legatehad been one Gaius Julius Caesar, and I had never regrettedfollowing Crastinus over that wall, since it had been for allintents and purposes the start of my career.
Macrinus left to go get the men he thoughtwould meet my requirements, while I tried to prepare myself as bestI could. Since I had not planned on being part of this assault, Ihad not gone through my normal rituals, even though I had stoppedmaking offerings and praying to my household gods with the death ofMiriam. It was the more practical act of having my Gallic bladesharpened by the Legion armorers that worried me at that moment,but I knew that there was no time to have an edge put on it. Thebreach had already been opened for the better part of the morning,and we had been preparing the ladders, but also giving theThracians inside the opportunity to get organized and prepare forour assault. Despite the fact it couldn’t be helped, there was nopoint in delaying any longer than necessary, and I forced myself tostop thinking about whether my blade was sharp enough. As was myhabit, I was wearing my old mail shirt, not the muscled cuirass,but I was wearing the helmet that had been created for the post ofCamp Prefect, with its feathered crest that ran from front to backinstead of transversely, and I hated it. Diocles was standingnearby, and suddenly, I felt the need to wear a helmet with which Iwas more comfortable.
“Go find Gaius and have him give you hishelmet, quickly,” I ordered him, knowing that Gaius was stillunable to wear it. Diocles stared at me for a moment, then turnedand ran off. Meanwhile, Macrinus returned with three men, all ofthem heavily muscled, their chests and arms about the same size asmine, but only one was anywhere near my height. Two of them hadbattered, scarred faces, telling me that they were wrestlers, thethird man having the look of a boy who had grown up on a farm likeme and was just brute, raw strength. They were carrying theirshields and javelins, and I had them discard their missiles. Then,by example, I bent down to pick up two sections of ladder in myright hand. They were heavy, but I found that if I slid one sectionall the way up onto my shoulder, I could hold two more in my righthand, except that almost immediately my arm began to ache from thestrain. Seeing me, the others did the same, but hefting theirshields in their left hands, making me realize that I did not haveone. Macrinus snapped an order to one of his men, who
