Chapter V
"Lovely and honourable it is to die for one's country." - Horace
The siege of Ionium was disappointing. We arrived after six weeks of marching. That part was uneventful. When the five legions and the auxiliaries arrived, the small city of rebels shut all the gates. They would not even send out an emissary. What they hoped to achieve I do not comprehend. We sat outside the walls in the hot sunshine. The city itself was made of stone buildings with thatched or wooden roofs. Its water came from wells within the city walls and technically, they might have held out for a long time, possibly months.
'What's happening?' I asked Calvus as we waited.
'Those rebels have shut themselves up and I suppose they think we'll march away. They don't know the General.'
'A siege of the city would take a while.'
'No, a few ballista shots and the walls will come down. We only need a single breach in the walls and our men will get in. Wait and see.'
'They're made of stone, ballistae won't penetrate stone.'
'These walls are so old and badly made they would crumble if you just hit them with your fist. I was talking to one of the engineers earlier. They'll fall like they were made of sand.'
'Junius thinks they don't have more than a thousand men. I don't understand why we're here with a massive army.'
'I think it's because if we march to Tigranocerta with a rebel city behind us, it can be used by the enemy as a rallying point and they could raise an army here behind us.'
'What will happen to the city?'
'It will be razed. Lucullus is like that. He will make an example of this place to discourage any further dissent.'
'What about the hearts and minds thing?'
'That was in Sinope. We need Sinope because it is on the coast and a rich port. We don't need a rebellious little place like Ionium.'
'I don't understand why they don't understand that they're beaten. They can't hope to win against Rome.'
'Maybe they're braver than we all thought. Maybe it's freedom that drives them. Some men would rather die than be defeated.'
'The Pontics in Sinope weren't like that.'
'No but they hated us. It was clear to me every time I walked in the street. You got a sort of cold politeness but you could see in their eyes they were just waiting for us to suffer some great defeat and they would all be up in arms against us.'
'I know what you mean. Our landlord was like that. Very friendly and respectful but you got the feeling he would sell us out any minute if there was a chance we would lose.'
'It surprises me often that the whole empire is built on fear. The lands we conquer have to be ruled with iron discipline; otherwise it would all fall apart.'
'Particularly true in the east, my Greek tutor used to tell me.'
'Yes, Syria and the area around Jerusalem are the worst. We've never had real peace or cooperation in that area.'
'Maybe it's religious?'
'So they tell me. I'm going to see to the water supplies, it's going to be a hot day for marching and some of our chaps don’t have the common sense to carry enough water. It's like being a schoolteacher. You have to tell them how to wipe their arses half the time.'
The wait was soon over. We were only there for a few hours. Lucullus, impatient to take the army to Tigranocerta, decided not to wait and he left half a legion, the locally recruited one as I recall, to bring the rebel town to its knees and the rest of us marched on. We travelled at a fantastic pace and the end of the summer passed quickly as we neared the Taurus Mountains on which Capadocia rests.
I learned later when the vexillation rejoined us that the legionaries who broke the walls fought a little battle and annihilated the entire population, men, women and children. When I heard that, I was glad we did not stay, for the thought of it filled me with disgust. I did not know how I would have coped with killing women and children and was glad to have that responsibility pass me by.
Marcus launched no more attempts on my life but he was never far away, he and Bassus. I would see them looking in my direction and conferring at times.
We spoke on a few occasions but we confined conversation to mundane matters in a superficially polite way. I had no evidence that he was responsible for the attack outside the palisade and he never mentioned the Amulet.
I asked around about Bassus. I learned that he was an experienced soldier with a long service record but a reputation for dishonesty and deceit. He had once been court-marshalled for supposedly falsifying accounts but nothing had come of it and he had continued in his role as Centurion. No one had seen him fight, but he had to have some abilities in that sphere, for Centurions did not last long in active service if they could not hold their own in a battle.
From Ionium it took a further month to march to Tigranocerta. Sextillius had already spent two months harassing the gathering Armenian forces with his legion and Murena had taken one legion and begun a siege of the city itself.
Tigranocerta was a fortress. The outlying towns were easy to enter and empty of men and plunder. The royal Armenian palace of Tigranes the Great was in the centre of the town and the town had massive stone walls. Tigranes had left his considerable fortune and some of his wives and children there. Lucullus had obviously decided to besiege the city to draw him in. It stood against a backdrop of a high cliff and the walls did not start to rise until you had walked up a steep slope. It looked impenetrable to me as we approached the camp that Murena had made. I heard later that the city fell in the end. It was not by force but treachery by a group of Greek merchants who lived there. They opened the gates to Murena and it was all over.
Murena's camp was not large enough to accommodate us and we had the job of extending it southwards to accommodate the army, yet leave it in such a way that after the main body left, it could safely be reconstituted. We started by elongating the walls towards the valley. It was a huge task. We had arrived with the better part of five legions and almost every one of us had to help dig the trenches and erect the palisades. It was a scene reminiscent of an ant's nest. The ground was thick with us, men moving, digging, carrying and swearing. All soldiers complain, whether it is during a march or during drills or in this case when doing the military engineering that made Roman Legions the disciplined fighting machines that they were. If I had a sestertius for every swear word or complaint I would be a rich man now.
The camp was in the end a good one, sturdy and liable to last a long time but we knew we would not be there long.
That we would leave soon was clear to us all. Rumours fly in an army and that was as true in our legion as in the others. We heard that Tigranes had gathered his troops and they were coming up from the south. The rumoured numbers of our opposition varied but the scouts who had seen them estimated that there were upwards of a hundred and fifty thousand to our sixty.
It seems strange to look back on it. My initial reaction was one of relief, for we had heard that there was double that number of Armenians preparing to face us.
It took only the first evening to prepare the fortifications and make our camp. Junius and I stood and looked out at the plain below us to the south while the men of our cohort were digging the trenches.
There was a wide plain before us. Rocky hills at intervals dotted the plain and a small, fast-flowing, deep river flowed through the middle. As we looked, we could see dust raised in the distance, as if by a large number of men or horses at the far end of the plain.
We sent a runner to the command tent and waited. As we looked, we could start to make out the approaching enemy. I estimated three thousand heavy cavalry approaching and by the time that Calvus joined us, it was possible to make them out clearly. They rode in squadrons of approximately two hundred men and they began to fill the tree-lined horizon.
It looked daunting to me. The Armenian cavalry had an evil reputation, for their armour protected them from enemy cavalry spears and the sheer weight of them made them formidable when they charged. They could buckle and break
an infantry line with ease.
Calvus had the cornicens sound and the whole cohort drew up in a much shorter time than I would have credited, considering that we had marched for a whole day before starting the fortification.
'Well Veridius,' he slapped me on the back with a large hand, 'we’ll find out what you can do in a battle now, can't we?'
'Battle sir?'
'Yes, we're going to take these horse puppies and turn them first into running foot soldiers and then into dead foot soldiers!'
'I thought the cavalry would deal with them.'
'No, these Armenian heavy horse have no armour on their legs and thighs and with a sword, we can take them much easier than you might think. All we have to do is withstand the initial charge and keep together. Then we stab at the horse' legs and the riders thighs. It has been shown to work over and over again.'
'Do the opposition know that?'
'Probably not. They think they're invincible because of their armour. They only have lances and no swords because they are so heavy with their scale armour, they can’t wield a sword. Silly, really.'
'Who is doing the fighting?'
'Just the Ninth. I don't know why we have been chosen. Murena's legion has been resting all day. Not the sort of thing that you argue about though. Lucullus didn't look in a very good mood. He's still arguing with his officers about what to do. He wants to stay put in the camps and then wait for the Armenians. I don't understand, but he's a very intelligent man and he reads armies like a scholar reads Greek!'
'I can read Greek.'
He looked sideways at me to see if I was joking and smiled.
'Well you're wasted with this bloody army. No bugger here can spell his name even in Latin!'
He laughed as if he had made a funny joke. I could not see anything funny and looked blankly at him. I think we were both nervous, for it was a strange conversation. I learned much later in life that men under pressure avoid the tension by talking about things, any things that takes their mind off their imminent death or victory.
'I had better join my men,' I said and looked back at the soldiers filing from the camp.
I called to my contubernium and mustered them and we joined our century. The whole Ninth Legion formed up in front of the camp.
We stood ready for the arrival of the enemy cavalry. There were five thousand of us counting some auxiliary troops, who were on the flanks. They were light auxillia and they had spears and small light shields. They were always particularly useful against cavalry. They were very fit men and young. They could run fast and deploy with their spears to daunt opposition cavalry. Our job was to hold the cavalry and fight as Calvus had described and the auxillia would come around the flanks to finish them off. That was the theory but in practise things often turn out in a different way.
The legion stood in centuries each eight by ten in staggered ranks. The space between each century was backed by the middle of the one behind. There were effectively no gaps. We stood before the fortifications and waited. I could feel my heart beating, mouth dry and sweat on my brow. I could see the approaching cavalry draw near and they were walking their horses now.
At five hundred yards, they walked patiently while their horse recovered their breath. A blown horse is useless to cavalry and charging with a horse that is out of breath is suicide; they would stop as soon as they ran out of breath and the rider would be doomed.
They reached pila range and we launched our first javelins. The pilae had much less effect than we had expected, deflected by the heavy armour. The riders came on.
The second wave of pilae had more effect but that may have been the range. Suddenly and without a signal, they raised their horse’s heads and charged. They were twenty yards from us and accelerating. The sight of the advancing armoured cavalry drained my confidence but we relied on our training. The front ranks steadied themselves. The second rank had their swords out and their shields ready, none of us wavered.
The advancing cavalry did not form a wedge. They chose to charge in a full frontal, flat line, ten or so horses deep. If we had had spears, we could have dug the shafts into the ground and let them impale themselves. We had shields and swords and we had to take the onslaught.
They hit our front rank with volcanic force. The weight of their armour took them full into the second rank in places. The second line of horsemen followed through but many stumbled over the bodies of our men and the obstruction imposed by the fallen horsemen in front.
We held the line. Shields planted firmly in front of us, most of the legionaries held firm. We stabbed and slashed at the cavalry's legs and thighs. Blood ran. Horses, legs wounded, reared. Riders fell to the ground only to be spitted by legionaries' swords. The noise was cataclysmic, a cacophony of metal ringing on metal, horses whinnying, men screaming.
The cavalry soon lost their forward momentum. The second row of legionaries advanced. A wedge of Armenians had split our century. We had to turn to the side to fight. I held my shield up and pushed forward. A big horse reared in front of me. I felt the impact of its hoof on my shield. It was like a pile driver. My sword stabbed upwards as I was pushed back into my men. I saw blood run from a wound in the horse's neck above its armour. It fell and the rider was swallowed up in the melee.
The Armenian horses began to panic. They either backed off or turned and ran. The horsemen behind, whose flashing spears did not deter the frightened beasts, impeded them. As soon as they turned, our swords stabbed into legs and hamstrung more and more of them. It was a sad, cruel thing, but damaging a steed renders the rider powerless. The Armenians were so weighed down by their armour that once they were unhorsed they were powerless to defend themselves.
The cavalry line withdrew and tried to form up again a hundred paces away. Our archers harried them. Their armour still protected them. The arrows inflicted little damage.
I stood and looked at them, breathing hard. We waited for the next charge but none came. I heard a trumpet blast to my left and realised why the Armenians had not renewed their assault. I craned my neck to see.
Two thousand of our Thracian cavalry had mustered on our left flank. Once the initial Armenian charge was over, they were ready to attack. The Thracians were light cavalry and apart from small shields and light leather armour, they wielded curved swords and short spears. They did not use their spears this time but charged sword in hand.
We witnessed what was to us a strange and beautiful scene. I thought there was an elegance in the way our cavalry manipulated their steeds. They formed a wedge and rode straight at the Armenians. Tight, densely packed like a nail driven into wood. They hit them hard; their shields deflected the Armenian spears. The Thracians used their swords to good effect. The Armenians were most useful for a frontal assault. It was their weight that carried them on in battle. Unhorsed, they were clumsy and even in the saddle they were slow.
It took moments only for our Thracians to cut their way through the Armenian cataphractii. We cheered until our throats were too dry to continue and then we beat our shields with our swords. They rode on then turned and charged again at their disarrayed foes. I could see Publius Crassus their commander, at the apex of the wedge. His red plume waving, his bloodied sword in hand, a scream on his snarling lips. He was the very embodiment of a true fighting Roman.
The Armenians were in turmoil. They had just reformed when the first light cavalry charge disrupted them. Now, in total confusion, they faced another charge.
They wavered and then ran. They rode for all they were worth away from these swift lightly armed furies. The Thracians, unencumbered, pursued them fast. They cut down those Armenians with the ease of a scythe cutting corn, littering the whole plain with the wreckage of their heavy armoured destruction. Only a handful of the three thousand escaped and we only took fifty of the riders alive. It was a triumph of speed over weight.
'Still alive then Decurion?'
I turned and saw Calvus behind me.
'Yes sir. I'm just a bit puzzle
d by their attack. What was it all for?'
'I think it was an attempt to drive us away from Tigranocerta or maybe strengthen the garrison there. They seem to think their cataphractii are invincible,'
'If they had swords and armour on their legs they might be I suppose.'
'Well they haven't and I think today's effort will only serve to improve our men's morale.'
'I hope so. How many men do you think Tigranes will have?'
'Well let's see. We have about seventy thousand all told including the Thracian cavalry. They must have by all accounts, about twice that number but they're conscripts you know. They'll be easy killing.'
'Are they near?'
'Near enough Laddie,' Calvus said. He smiled and walked away leaving me none the wiser.
Titus stood next to me. He had sustained a small wound on his head, which was bleeding down the side of his face.
'Press on it damn you!' I said feeling irritable for it was the third time I had told him to staunch the bleeding.
He looked at me with a blank expression and sat down with his arms by his sides. His mouth was open and he was staring straight ahead.
I removed his helmet and pressed on the wound to stop the bleeding. I knelt at his side and tore a strip from his tunic, with which I fashioned a rudimentary bandage. It was then that I realised that underneath the wound, there was a softness and I could feel bone fragments crunching beneath my fingers. It should have been hard. It dawned upon me that this must have been a worse wound than I had thought for part of his skull must have been shattered. I had two of the lads take him to the surgeon's tent. They staggered away one on each side, supporting him under the arms, pleased to be able to escape the clearing up operations that the rest of the legion now had to engage in.
Leaving bodies and dead horses to rot so close to our camp would have encouraged disease and it was a strict rule that bodies were to be burned and all weapons captured from the enemy, either destroyed or collected for further use.
I took my contubernium and began the tedious operations. I was tired, bloodstained and dejected. A depressed mood had come on me in the last week and I ruminated constantly on the Pontic Queen. I wondered how she was, I wondered if she was happy and mostly I wondered if she still thought about me. I had no great hopes of seeing her again and it was painful. I had constant flashbacks to that last night in Sinope and the wonder of making love to someone I was in love with.
That she had wanted me too amazed and pleased me for I had never imagined that she might have felt that way. She had risked her life and her position for that one night with me. What could make a woman risk all? It had to be love. It puzzled me. Could I really be so lucky? I touched the amulet. It had to be the amulet that brought me such good fortune.
The experience of that one night with Hypsicratea had changed me. I felt more confident somehow and held my head that little bit higher amongst the men. I felt I carried something within me, secret and powerful – the love of a wonderful woman. I could look down on the rest of the world as if I owned it. It was an exaltation.
Junius was working only a short way away and as I and my legionaries dragged a horse's carcass to the pile of bodies I called to him.
'Well Junius, you seem to have made it through the skirmish unscathed!'
'Yes, my little friend. You seem none the worse for it too,' he said smiling.
'I lead a charmed life,' I said fiddling with the amulet again, 'Titus has been hit on the head and wasn't right so I sent him to the surgeon. I hope it isn't too serious, he was one of my more experienced men,' I said.
'Well if they hit him on his head they picked the least important part of him!'
I scowled at Junius for it seemed a poor joke and continued with the removal of the bodies. We lit a huge fire and burned all, using oil and pitch. The stench was unbearable and we were glad to quit the place as evening fell.