‘We have to move now,’ Valerius urged. ‘The enemy must be close and if they have any sense they’ll stay out of that jungle, take us on the flank and slaughter us.’
Benignus looked towards Paulinus’s standard, desperately seeking some kind of signal, but the four commanders of Otho’s army were too busy arguing to notice.
‘Now,’ Valerius’s voice was a vicious snarl that brought startled looks from the junior tribunes surrounding the legionary commander. Benignus’s chin came up at the suggestion of insubordination, but when he saw the certainty in his deputy commander’s eyes he realized what he must do.
‘Sound deploy,’ he ordered the cornicen.
Valerius thanked the gods that Otho had opted to deploy First Adiutrix on the left of the line. It was the natural position for a less experienced formation, and whether through accident or design the legion would fight its battle on open ground with a clear view of the enemy. The men spilled over the side of the roadway and through the ditch, automatically moving into centuries and cohorts and marching towards the positions marked by the engineers who had galloped ahead. Valerius abandoned his horse to a groom and ran to join his gladiators, with Serpentius always at his right side. Marcus and the rest of the centurions tried valiantly to emulate the other cohort formations, but compared to the marine legionaries they were little more than a shambling mass. Benignus had accepted Valerius’s advice that the gladiator cohort should occupy the centre position in the second rank. That way, they would have a regular cohort on either flank and others to their rear to steady them if things began to go badly.
Serpentius gave a hoot as he watched his former comrades attempt to copy the legionaries, but Valerius was impressed by the unflinching way they made for their position and by the determination on the gaunt faces. ‘They may not march very well, but they seem steady enough,’ he ventured.
The Spaniard frowned and it took him a moment to find the words he sought. ‘They are gladiators,’ he said simply. ‘Death is no stranger to them. They face it, or live with its presence, every day. A lonely death at that, in front of and for the pleasure of thousands of strangers.’ His face went hard and Valerius knew he was remembering every time he had entered the ring. Pride swelled in the Roman’s chest that he could call this man a friend. Serpentius stared out over the ranks of glittering helmets as he continued. ‘It seems to me that for them – for us who have fought – the opportunity to die with other men in support of a cause …’ he shook his head at this unlikely sentimentality, ‘no matter the worthiness of the cause, is a privilege. They have always had the right to die with a sword in their hand, but here they will have the chance to die with a sword in their hand and a friend by their side.’
The formation First Adiutrix took up was the same the Thirteenth was attempting to achieve with so much effort and cursing on the far side of the road. A front rank of four cohorts, followed by two staggered ranks of three cohorts each, a total of just over five thousand men, give or take the sick and the stragglers. Little groups of engineers struggled in the gaps between, siting the legion’s artillery and cursing the damp ground that would affect their aim after a few shots. Whatever crops had been in these fields were long since trampled flat, but Valerius, raised on an estate, gave the name winter barley to the crushed green shoots. Another troop of Pannonians trotted past on the left and Benignus had one of his junior tribunes hail them, hoping for some intelligence on the enemy’s movements. A bearded decurion carrying a bloodied spear heard the shout and rode up to salute the legate and Valerius strode across to hear what was said.
Benignus nodded gravely to the cavalryman. ‘You have been in some action already, I see?’
The Pannonian grinned. ‘Their cavalry thought a couple of squadrons would be easy meat, but we taught them differently. They would have been running yet if their infantry hadn’t turned them back.’
‘So you’ve seen the main force?’ the tribune blurted.
Valerius saw the decurion’s face turn grave. ‘You’ll be seeing them soon enough.’ He pointed the bloody spear west. ‘They are advancing slowly, because their left flank is obstructed by the vines and ditches on the far side of the roadway, but they’re coming. At least three full legions as far as I could tell, and swarms of auxiliary infantry and cavalry …’
‘What about their right flank?’ Benignus grunted in annoyance, and the junior tribune who’d posed the question in a voice frayed with nerves blushed under his glare.