The bridge was narrower than the road, causing a bottleneck, and it took the rest of the day and the best part of the following one to get the whole force and its baggage across; it was as the final carts trundled over that the first tiny silhouettes of horsemen were spotted on the crest of a distant hill.
‘It didn’t take long for news of our march to spread,’ Magnus commented, climbing into the saddle.
Vespasian swung himself up onto his mount. ‘I’m sure that King Polemon has taken the precaution of warning both Radamistus and the Parthians of our arrival by now.’
‘Naturally,’ Magnus agreed. ‘You can’t trust anyone in the East; they’d betray their own mothers for a goat if they thought that they could get more practical usage out of it. But you don’t seem to be too concerned by it. I thought that the whole point of quick strikes like this was to keep the element of surprise.’
‘That would be helpful if this were meant to be a quick strike.’
Magnus shaded his eyes as he took another look southwest at the scouts. ‘What do you mean?’
Vespasian turned his horse. ‘Has it occurred to you that we don’t really have anyone to strike at? Radamistus is meant to be loyal to Rome and the Parthians have not, as yet, as far as we’re aware, invaded.’
‘But I thought that you told Paelignus that the whole point of this mission was to secure Tigranocerta whilst King Polemon invaded from the north and took Artaxata on the basis that whoever controls the two royal capitals controls Armenia?’
‘That is indeed what I told him; but it is far from the truth. Had I told him that, he would probably have tried to have me arrested for treason.’ Vespasian enjoyed the surprise and confusion on Magnus’ face as he kicked his horse forward in search of Paelignus.
‘Probably just local brigands,’ Paelignus announced as Vespasian drew up his mount. ‘It’s beneath the dignity of Rome to send scouts scurrying around the country investigating riff-raff.’
‘If you’re sure, Paelignus,’ Vespasian replied, scanning the hilltop. ‘Whoever they were, they’ve gone now.’
‘That’ll be the last we’ll see of them.’
‘What makes you so certain?’
‘The Armenians would never dare to attack a Roman column.’
‘Maybe, maybe not; but Parthians would.’
‘The Parthians? What would they be doing in the country?’
‘The same as us, procurator, staking their claim to it in a time of change. And, if they did come, I believe they would come from the southwest.’ He pointed to the hill on which the horsemen had appeared. ‘And judging by the sun, that is the southwest.’
The column followed the road east for three days until it turned and meandered south through the dun and dusty rough terrain of the uplands that preceded the Masius range. The horsemen were not seen again. By the time the auxiliaries approached Amida, on the banks of the young Tigris River, where the road struck east again towards Tigranocerta, across the hundred-mile passage in the gentle northern foothills of the Masius mountains, the horsemen had been forgotten by almost everyone. Paelignus led the march on at a hurried pace, imitating the Roman generals of old by disdaining to send out scouts on the spurious basis that looking out for ambushes set by barbarians was yet another thing that was beneath the dignity of Rome.
But what was not below Rome’s dignity was greed and it was soon after noon on the fifth day that the column halted to the blare of bucinae, above the peaceful-looking little town of Amida, set astride the road. The high-pitched calls of the bucinae, used for signals in camp and on the march, soon gave way to the deep rumbles of the G-shaped cornu favoured for battlefield signals, and the column started to deploy into line.
‘What is he doing?’ Magnus asked as auxiliaries filed left and right and farmers, ploughing the freshly thawed fields, abandoned their ploughs and sprinted for the relative safety of the town’s walls.
‘Exactly what Tryphaena predicted he would: rape and plunder. He’s never had this chance; being a cripple no one ever took him into their legion as a military tribune so he’s never been on campaign and he’s never felt the power of the sword.’
Magnus was confused. ‘But this is an Armenian town; how does he think he’ll forward our interests if he destroys everything he comes across?’
‘He doesn’t think, at least he doesn’t think beyond schemes of personal gain, and that’s his problem; that is why he’s so suitable.’
‘We want him to alienate the Armenians?’
‘This is right on the border between Armenia and the Parthian Empire. Tigranocerta is a frontier town that guards the Sapphe Bezabde pass through these mountains into Parthia; what better way to provoke the Parthians than firstly to burn Amida close to the border and then to occupy and rebuild a fortified city actually looking out over their lands.’