Because Vespasian was hastening towards Armenia to provoke Parthia into war.
CHAPTER VII
‘DO YOU HAVE the Emperor’s authority for this outrageous request?’ Julius Paelignus, the procurator of Cappadocia, drew himself up to his full height, which was limited to five feet owing to a severe curvature of the spine. ‘Because, I would remind you, I am a very good personal friend of Claudius and it would not do to cross me.’
‘I am well aware of your relationship with the Emperor.’ Vespasian looked down at the deformed little man and tried not to let the contempt that he felt for the procurator’s self-importance play on his face. ‘It is not a request; it’s a suggestion. I have an imperial mandate to act in whichever way I see best in relation to the current crisis in Armenia and I suggest that your auxiliary cohorts secure its border with Parthia.’
‘All of them?’
‘All of them!’ Vespasian’s voice echoed around the marble columns and walls of the procurator’s palace located in the eastern city of Melitene in the mountainous province on the edge of the Empire.
‘I can’t spare them all.’
‘Are they doing anything else important at the moment?’
‘They’re guarding our border with Armenia.’
‘That border is guarded by the Euphrates River; Armenia’s border with Parthia is a vague line just to the south of Tigranocerta.’
Paelignus spluttered, looking up at Vespasian with protruding, bloodshot eyes; his thick, moist lips dominated the lower part of his gaunt face. ‘But they are my troops.’
‘And you shall command them, Paelignus, as is only right as, although I’ve made the suggestion, this will be your idea.’
Paelignus’ thin nose twitched and he rubbed it with his thumb and forefinger; his fingernails were chewed almost to the cuticles. ‘And I shall take the credit for any victory?’
‘Procurator, I am not here. You have seen my imperial mandate and that should be enough for you. My presence should not be mentioned in any official papers or letters and should not be reported to your direct superior, Ummidius Quadratus, the Governor of Syria; so therefore the obvious conclusion is yes, you will not only be able to claim all the plunder but also take all the credit for any victory, worthy feat of arms or successful negotiation through force that you may achieve in your securing of the southern Armenian border during this period of instability in that client kingdom.’ As well as any fiasco, dishonourable retreat or double-dealing agreement, Vespasian added in his head as he smiled ingratiatingly at this puffed-up little joke of a procurator whose eyes had narrowed as he contemplated riches and honour easily come by. He had only met Paelignus once previously, on the last day of the Secular games three years before when the man had been present in the imperial box almost begging Claudius to be given the post of procurator of Cappadocia to restore his finances; his friendship with the Emperor involved many games of dice and wagering on just about anything and his purse had been severely depleted by Claudius’ passion for gambling. Why Claudius would associate himself with such a buffoon he could only … but then he realised that, as a hunchback, Paelignus was exactly the sort of person that Claudius would enjoy having around him: he would make the drooling fool seem less of an oddity. Now that Paelignus had his wished-for position, Tryphaena had judged that his greed and venality would serve her purposes well. Vespasian was unsurprised as the procurator acquiesced.
‘Very well, proconsul,’ Paelignus affirmed, summoning as much dignity as he could in order to seem in command. ‘I will leave in ten days.’
‘Wrong, Paelignus; speed is of the essence and the Emperor will commend you for it. You will leave in three. In ten days you will be in Tigranocerta. Meanwhile, King Polemon of Pontus will bring an army in from the north and secure Artaxata.’ Leaving the procurator speechless and gaping, Vespasian turned on his heel and marched quickly from the room. He was in no mood for more delay; now that he was close to his objective he wanted to achieve Tryphaena’s dubious aims and then get back to Italia and watch the results from the relative safety of one of his estates. It had already taken over half a month to make the two-hundred-mile journey from the port of Sinope, the seat of King Polemon, Tryphaena’s brother. Vespasian had not been surprised to find himself expected and treated with the utmost courtesy by the ageing King; he had been furnished with a unit of Polemon’s personal guard cavalry for his protection overland. They were armed with lances in the image of Alexander the Great’s companion cavalry; shieldless but with stout leather cuirasses and bronze helmets they looked like troops from days gone by, but Polemon had assured him that they had no equal when it came to horsemanship. Their mere presence deterred any banditry along the route and it had been with some regret that Vespasian had released them, upon their arrival in Cappadocia, having not seen them fight.