The Siege Read Free

the streets of Antioch would as soon raise Zenobia’s banner as Claudius’. But the Queen has gone too far, and seems intent on nothing less than annexation.’
    ‘We can assume that she knows of the problems in Gaul then. Not to mention the campaign against the Goths.’
    ‘Indeed. And that she’d be well advised to secure her position while the Emperor is preoccupied.’
    Navio stood, ran a hand over his paunch and sauntered over to a large, tatty map mounted on the wall. It was marked here and there with charcoal and ink.
    ‘Come. Show me the partition boundary.’
    It took Cassius a moment to find the right line, denoting the partition between Syria Coele and Syria Phoenice.
    ‘That’s it. Phoenice went first. That’s the Palmyrans’ home ground. Several cohorts were lost so I withdrew the rest to key settlements further north. A few were taken but I suspect the Queen was waiting for Arabia, Palestine and Egypt to fall before committing significant forces. Now they have; so we’re getting her full attention. Apamea and several smaller towns have gone in the last few weeks. All that stands between them and us is what’s left of the Third Legion.’
    The general made circles with his finger in an area to the south-east of the capital.
    ‘Scattered amongst the towns here are a number of small garrisons. Just a few engineers and clerks now. Wounded, too. I need them rounded up and brought back here. It might be only weeks before the city is besieged.’
    Despite such a prospect, Cassius had felt rather reassured by his few days in Antioch. The thought of venturing beyond its walls horrified him.
    The general was already back at his desk. He filled a bronze pen with ink from a pot, then began to write on a papyrus sheet.
    ‘I’ll list the towns here. Get around them as quick as you can. I’ll assign a scout to help you find your way. My clerk will help you with any questions.’
    ‘Sir, you do understand that – officially – I’m not actually a centurion. I haven’t even been assigned to a legion yet.’
    The general continued writing as he spoke.
    ‘What was the name?’
    ‘Corbulo, sir.’
    ‘Corbulo, you have an officer’s tunic and an officer’s helmet and you completed full officer training, did you not?’
    Cassius nodded. He could easily recall every accursed test and drill he had undergone at Ravenna’s military academy. Though he had excelled in the cerebral disciplines and somehow survived the endless marches and swims, he had rated poorly with sword in hand and had been repeatedly described as ‘lacking natural leadership ability’. The academy’s senior centurion had seemed quite relieved when the letter from the Service arrived.
    ‘I did, sir, but it was felt I would be more suited to intelligence work than the legions. I really would prefer—’
    ‘And you did take an oath? To Rome, the Army and the Emperor?’
    ‘I did sir, and of course I am happy to serve but—’
    The general finished the orders. He rolled the sheet up roughly and handed it to Cassius.
    ‘Dismissed.’
    ‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I just have one final question.’
    The general was on his way back to his chair. He turned round and fixed Cassius with an impatient stare.
    ‘Sir, how should I present myself to the troops? In terms of rank, I mean.’
    ‘They will assume you are a centurion, and I can see no practical reason whatsoever to disabuse them of that view.’
    Cassius could not forget that phrase, nor could he shake off a mild sense of shame every time he donned his officer’s helmet, complete with its bright red horsehair crest. The helmet was made of iron, with a protruding nose guard and three hanging sections that protected the ears and neck. He was still not used to the weight, and though his headache was beginning to ease, he cursed quietly as he tightened the straps around his chin. He hated the damn thing but it seemed sensible to keep up appearances for the benefit of the locals. He could