Chapter I
"True friendship ought never to conceal what it thinks.” - St Jerome
We stood to attention before the walls of Sinope, on the wide plain that adorned the approach to the gates. We were in our dressed ranks and the whole cohort had orders to attend the assembly. Our chief Centurion wanted to address us, which was all we had been told.
We had all heard that Gaius Calvus Vegetius had been in the legions for fifteen years. He was a man made of rock. As an enlisted man who had made it to the centurionate, he had to be an exceptionally gifted soldier. He had a reputation for fairness and loyalty to his men but intolerance of breaches of discipline. He had stepped into Asinnius' shoes as a promotion to the rank of senior Centurion and he seemed self-assured, as if he had nothing in particular to prove. Perhaps it was this confidence that made him such a fair-minded leader.
As his dark, intelligent eyes surveyed us, his broad and stocky frame appeared relaxed and he addressed the men of the second cohort as we stood to attention.
'All right men,' his deep, slow, gravely, parade ground voice had steel in it. It soared above the cohort as he spoke, 'we are only days away from starting the march to Armenia. It will take months. There may be fighting on the way and when we get there we face an army, I am told, that will outnumber us by a factor of five to one.'
He paused, as he seemed to be assessing the effect of this piece of news. I did not react, nor did any of my men, for we had known that the Armenian army was huge, for weeks. Whether this was a propaganda exercise on the part of the Armenians or the truth, remained to be seen. Time would tell and I felt that worrying about it now would make little difference in the end.
I looked at Calvus. My initial impression had been of a hard man who I felt instinctually I could trust but I was reconciled to the thought that Calvus would have been told all about my failure to obtain the information Lucullus had required about the corsairs and their spies.
'For those of you who can't count,' he smiled as he spoke, 'I am the Senior Centurion. I command the first century. The other five centuries that make up the second cohort are led by their Centurions who are subordinate to me. Our Tribune, Procillus will lead us to victory but I will drive you to it!
'Don't think that the size of the Armenian forces will count one bit against our discipline. They are conscripts and slaves. They fight because they are enslaved, but we fight as free men, for the glory and honour of Rome. We will destroy them and you will fight well, for I know you to be tough and brave.
'Some of you however, may think that you can run from battle when the going gets tough. Well all I can say is that if you do and the enemy don't kill you, I will. And don't think I don't know every trick in the book! I know all about putting your breastplate on your back, so the enemy can't kill you when you run. If I see you do that, you can rely on the fact that I will kill you from the front.
'For some of you,' the Centurion continued, 'leaving this place will be hard. Many of you have found women and you will have feelings for them. I will say this only once,' he looked me straight in the eye as he spoke, 'if any of you think you can go absent without leave and remain in Sinope, you had better reconsider. The army pursues deserters with a vigour you men wouldn't believe. Don't even think of it. You hear?'
'No sir!' came the smart reply from the cohort.
'If you have worries over the size of the opposition, you only need look at the collapse of the Pontic armies of Mithradates. These men are no match for us! We have Roman discipline. They have heavily armoured horse. We have skilled Triarii whose spears make such cavalry shiver with fear! We will always be the victors, for when the horses have died we will advance in formation and cut the riders to pieces.'
A cheer rose from the ranks. No one believed what was said if they scrutinized it carefully, but to have an ebullient tough Centurion telling you that you will be victorious was a morale raiser of sorts in itself.
As the cohort fell out, Calvus approached me.
'I've heard a lot about you, Decurion Veridius.' He said tapping me on the shoulder with his vine cane.
'All good I hope?'
'No, not much of it. I did hear that Meridius trained you. He was a great man. I had a lot of respect for him. I hope you learned enough not to let your comrades down.'
'I don't understand, sir.'
'You don't?'
'No sir.'
'I've heard rumours that you let the side down in some undercover escapade with the corsairs.'
'No sir, I did not.'
'I also heard you killed Asinnius, but he was rumoured to be a traitor so I suppose that was no crime,' he leant forward close enough for me to smell his breath, a mixture of garlic and wine.
'I also heard that you have a connection with the Pontic Queen. It is not a very loyal thing to be involved in.'
'Sir, my loyalty has never been in question. I am a servant of Rome. I believe in the legion.'
'Then I expect you to show it. '
'Yes sir, I will obey my orders. You can trust me.'
'It's not a matter of trust, Veridius. I will inflict every kind of punishment on you if you are not at your post between now and the time we leave.'
'Permission to speak sir?'
'Well, what is it?'
'I just wondered why you take that tone with me. I've served faithfully for four years now. I was not aware that anyone questioned my loyalty.'
'You may not be aware, but a little bird whispered in my ear, suggesting I watch you as a potential deserter.'
'Sir, I would never desert, despite anything you may have heard. I swear by my parent's dead souls, that this is so.'
'Very well, over the coming months you will show me your loyalty and perhaps the matter will resolve itself. That is all, you are dismissed.'
I turned to my right and marched to the edge of the muster field. I was sure that Marcus was responsible for besmirching my name.
I sighed and went to join Junius and Titus in the tavern, where the men of my contubernium congregated.