Chapter I
“In a change of masters the poor change nothing except their master's name.” - Phaedrus
We landed at the main port of Pergamum. The docks were a hive of activity as the men came ashore in the bright, baking, burning sun. There were two legions, the Ninth and the Fourth. The port was a day's hard march from Pergamum and to my great disappointment, we were not allowed to visit the city. When Alexander conquered the whole area, he had built the palaces and temples on the top of a mountain one thousand feet above the lowlands below. It was reckoned a great site of ancient Greek buildings and I was to miss it all.
I was sweating in the almost palpable humidity, hating the feeling of the damp felt lining of my helmet, as it stuck to the back of my neck. The sweaty, leathery smell of the men surrounding me, masked the fishy odour of the docks as I stepped ashore and formed up with my century.
I touched my father's amulet for luck. My superstitious nature made me cautious as well as curious about how this chapter of my life would turn out. I still felt a cold anger over all that had happened to me but I managed to keep it buried deep and all that showed now was a hint of a smile on the lips of my sunburned and usually serious face.
It was a smile of relief but there was gratitude too. Gratitude to have survived the sea voyage, the seasickness, dysentery and the diet of fish and barley. I thought to myself that if ever I had to hang from the stern of a boat again to open my bowels, I would go mad. It was for me, one of the worst parts of sea journeys. One minute you were answering the call of nature, the next minute grasping frantically at the rope ladder on which you are perched. Had I been able to read the future I might have felt differently about that sea voyage.
I stood in line with the other legionaries, kit on my shoulder, leather-wrapped shield in my left hand and looked inland hoping for a glimpse of Pergamum herself, the legendary Attalid city. There was however, a heat haze, which would have obscured the city from my view even if the distance had been less.
I had heard much about the ancient city from Gennadius and I recalled that it was famous for its library, the second largest in the world, as well as the stature of its medical men. Indeed, there was a famous temple to Asclepius in the city, where it was rumoured that any illness could be relieved or cured by bathing in the sacred waters of a spring inside. I did feel I was missing out by not visiting the ancient city, but realised I was not there to stop and stare as so many others who came from Rome.
Small boats transported most of the baggage and provisions as far up the River Caicus as possible and the men and cavalry were to follow on foot along a winding cart track that crawled in dusty meanderings eastwards. On the morning of the second day, I looked up at the city, which stood on a plateau high above to my right. I could easily make out the sloping tiers of seats in the amphitheatre, which could hold fifteen thousand people. It was a theatre in the Greek style, built into the mountainside. Semicircular, it was a phenomenal feat of engineering. The acoustics were such that when it was built, by Alexander the Great, someone sitting on the highest and furthest row could hear an actor’s voice as clearly as if he was next to him. Gennadius had always said that the important feature was not the acoustics, but the masks the actor wore which somehow amplified the voice. The outline of the Great Temple of Zeus, built when Pergamum was part of the Attalid Empire a hundred years before, reached up to the sky like supplicant hands on the brow of the mountain. Its columns shone white, as the sun reflected from their marble surface.
'You know, Junius,' I said as we marched, 'It's a funny thing, but we inherited this place from its original owners.'
'How's that?' Junius said.
'Well the last King, Attalus the second, had no son to pass the empire on to, so to avoid the entire place being squabbled over by Greeks and Egyptians, he bequeathed all his treasure to Rome. The Senate however, decided that he had left the kingdom to them and we've occupied it ever since.'
'How do you know all these things? You seem to be a bloody guide not a soldier. Are you sure you aren't really an officer in disguise?'
'Very funny. No, I had a Greek teacher for a few years when I was young and he was full of historical details about the east. He said the east was the most civilised and educated place in the world, and that Pergamum was its intellectual capital.'
'You know, Aulus, sometimes I can't understand what you're talking about. All I know is that we are here to fight a load of half-Greek, half-Scythian, half-Parthian heathens and if we keep talking and walk as slowly as this we'll miss the bloody war!'
'Too many halves! I doubt we will get that much fighting. Lucullus has already won by the looks of it. He overran a huge Pontic army at Cabira. Apparently, the Pontic cavalry attacked our baggage train but our cavalry ambushed them and wiped them out. That only left the Pontic infantry and our men cut through them like a knife as they routed. I wish I had been there. If the legionaries hadn't stopped to loot the bodies and the camp, they would have caught the Pontic King. I suppose if that happened though, we wouldn't be needed and we could all go home. As it was, their King escaped and that's why Lucullus wants more troops so he can keep this place quiet while he goes after Mithradates in Armenia.'
'Who told you that?'
'I was chatting to one of the sailors at the dock, he said he's had to carry dispatches and the messengers knew all about it. I wish we could visit the city though.'
'You speak Greek?'
'Of course, don't you?'
'Not much use talking to cattle in Greek you know. Sounds like we'll be marching all the way to Armenia, before we get a decent fight, from what you say.'
'Don't worry farm boy, we'll get plenty to do!' I said.
It took four weeks for the army to reach Ancyra in the centre of Phrygia. It was a hot, dusty, thirsty route through mixed countryside of farmland, barren hills and flat plains. Sunburn, blisters and dysentery became a part of our everyday life, but few of us became seriously ill. We were well equipped and carried plenty of provisions. As we marched, we built a fortified camp at each stop, for although there was no fighting to be done here, we routinely dug trenches and built palisades each night around our encampments. Every one of us knew how to dig a trench properly and we all carried a spade and a stake to make the palisade with when we reached the campsite.
We turned northeast after that and the terrain became rockier as they climbed up for almost two weeks. Eventually we were able to look down at a vast plain that reached out to the sea halfway between Sinope, the capital of Pontus and the Bosporus at Byzantium. We made for Herakleia, a city of Bythinia on the coast, in a northeasterly direction.
After eight weeks more of hard marching next to the sea, we came to Sinope and joined the five legions that Lucullus had at his command. The city was under siege and the arrival of the two new legions was welcomed by the veteran legions of Lucullus. Food had been running short on both sides and it was becoming more and more difficult to supply the troops, partly because of the long supply lines
'Don't you think about anything apart from eating?' Junius said.
'Yes I do, but it feels like a priority to my stomach at the moment. I hear the city is ready to surrender anytime, but even if they do there won't be any food inside, will there?'
'No, maybe not. If there was, they wouldn't surrender would they?'
We looked at each other and laughed. I felt that if I did not laugh I might cry. The hardships of the long march had taken its toll and all I wanted at that moment was food and plenty of it. The siege was going well by Roman standards, despite the difficulties engendered by shortages.
Gennadius had taught me about Pontus. The last five kings had the name Mithradates and for almost four generations they had been, to a man, a thorn in Rome's side. All very young Romans were brought up with the belief that if they misbehaved, Mithradates would come for them, yet I remained fascinated by the capital city that was so different from Rome. It was a bridging place between the Armenians to the east and t
he Scythians around the Black Sea to the north. The mixture of cultures had produced a thriving economy, the Pontic people took pride in their trading and horsemanship, for Pontus had some of the best heavy cavalry in the Roman world, excepting the cataphractii of Parthia and Armenia. Like everywhere in the known world the Greeks had got here first and many of the traders were Greek or spoke that language.
'Have you heard the news from Spain?' asked Junius.
'No, what's happened?'
'Gnaeus Pompey has ended the Sertorian war and made a clean sweep across Spain. He must be a pretty good soldier that one.'
'Yes, but I don't think much of his political skills and I'd be surprised if he gets very far. Sulla liked him though, which is hardly a recommendation.'
'Sulla was a great Roman,' Junius said.
'Don't talk to me about Sulla,' I said, 'the man may have had a good sense of humour but it was on account of him that my parents were killed.'
'Oh?' Junius said, for I had never spoken openly of the matter before.
'Yes, he wanted land that my father had inherited and he worked on my uncle to get it. I don't have any evidence but I'm pretty sure my parents died protecting the whereabouts of the deeds to that land,' I said, playing with the Amulet around my neck.
Fiddling with the thing had become a constant habit. The silver wire, polished by my calloused fingers, glinted in the sun; I knew every crack, every crevice, the only part of my father to survive. Yet I had never looked at it directly, since it hung around my neck.
'Pity Sulla's dead, there is no one for you to take revenge on I suppose.'
'Oh there is. My uncle Marcus must have had something to do with it and when I leave the army I intend to find out what happened.'
'You think your uncle killed your parents?'
'I don't know. I try not to think about it, I can't get on with life if I ponder on it too much. It's like a festering sore.'
'Oh for the love of Mercury, why are we having such a morbid conversation? We are young and there is a city full of beautiful women and wine!'
As Junius pointed to the walls of Sinope, the gates opened ponderously, with loud creaking sounds.
'There you are, all I had to do was point and the walls are ours! Junius the wall-breaker they call me!' Junius shaded his eyes and pointed as a column of men emerged from the gateway.
'Looks like another delegation, maybe the siege is ending,' he said.
'Well I can tell you, there will be no plunder this time. The General has passed a message through the Centurions that if you're caught plundering you'll be crucified. He wants to build good relations according to Meridius' I said.
'Meridius? When did you see him?'
'That was the last time he gave me a lesson. He can wield a sword that one. For an officer he's good company and what a fighter! It's almost as if he was one of us you know.'
'He can't be; he's an officer. They all have a rich background and money up their asses.'
'Not this one, he really does want me to do well with the sword practise. I know it.'
'Maybe so. Let's go over to the Praetorium and see what's happening. Maybe the city is going to give up.'
Junius and I walked up the Via Praetoria to hear the news. The layout of our camps was always the same, so we could find our way around even in a huge encampment. The Via Praetoria was the main roadway that led to the central area in front of the command tents.
Lucullus had been negotiating with the city council for terms of surrender. To my disappointment, the terms were accepted. It meant there would be no storming of the city walls. There would be no heroics to display and no military decorations to hand out. I felt there was little point in joining the legions if I could not gain some military honours. If all they did was talk and win, where did the heroes come from?
For I wanted to be a hero. My great-grandfather, who had become consul, had been a hero, according to my father. A great man, a good man. I burned with the desire to become like him. To pass on the name of Veridius Scapula with pride meant much to me, although I had no idea how to carry all this through.
I hoped for glory and honour in the Ninth, but where would I get the opportunity? I was a low ranking soldier in a huge legion of professional soldiers and who was I anyway? A thief? A junior man-of-the-line legionary, nothing else. My sword work had progressed with tutoring from Meridius, but what did that mean? Even if, in years to come, I were to become the legionary champion of the Ninth Legion where would that get me? It certainly did not mean promotion. To become a Centurion even, would take me years. There were times when I despaired of reaching my goal.
There was no sack of Sinope. Lucullus wanted to win hearts and minds in Pontus because he intended to use the port of Sinope as his main supply line. It meant sea battles against the corsairs, but ships could be built, marines could be trained, and warfare could be taken even as far as Chersoneses across the Black Sea if necessary.
And me? I walked into that city with my comrades, staring at the starving people and wondering how I might achieve my aim. Although the populace lined the streets, there was no welcome for us Romans soldiers. Instead, there was a fear and caution expressed in the closure of shops and taverns and markets. Not that there was much to sell, for three months of siege had stripped the corn stores bare and the shelves in all the shops and the markets stalls were empty.
Like most of the Ninth Legion, I was billeted in the north of the town near the harbour. Junius had scouted around but found nothing to interest him nearby. The city was similar in many respects to Rome. There were tenements and squares and cobbled streets but that was where the similarity ended. All the buildings were of stone, unlike Rome where many buildings were constructed of wood. It lent an air of permanence to the place a sense of antiquity, as if it had been standing there forever.
'The women are all hidden away, there seems to be no food and there isn't even a decent tavern open,' Junius proclaimed disconsolately on the day after the fall of the city.
'No, but at least we're comfortable here,' I replied, indicating the tenement accommodation in which we had found ourselves billeted.
'I would feel more comfortable if the owner of the place didn't keep asking me for money. He seems to want sympathy.'
'I can see how he feels. We've walked into his city and deposited ourselves in his tenement and he gets nothing for it.'
'Maybe he can get us some women?' he said.
'You should try. It might take your mind off the plunder Lucullus stopped us from getting'
'Come on Aulus, cheer up! I'll try to see if he can be persuaded or bribed to provide some entertainment.'
Junius wandered out of the building, but I had my doubts about my friend's venture. I was feeling more despondent than at any other time since my forced nascence in the legion. All I had was the legion. There was nothing in Rome for me but this place of stone buildings, starvation and gloom could never be construed as a good substitute for my home.
Rome was not just a city; it was a concept, an ideal for which any of us would give up our lives. It was honour and right and the legion was my family now. Not a loving family, no softness, no tenderness but family all the same. The bonds that held us to each other were different to kinship, we were not brothers, we were brothers-in-arms, but perhaps that was a bond in itself. And Rome? Rome was our mother and father and we all longed for her but it was no substitute really, for what I grieved for.
I should have been more patient, for it turned out that there was certainly action enough for me in Sinope, but no one knows what the Gods plan and the future runs before us in unknown paths.