Chapter 30
"A copy of orders from Governor Vitellius, sir."
Gaius looked at the Centurion, and took the note. "That's odd," he muttered. "These should have come through the Legatus."
"That's where the Governor sent them first," the Centurion nodded, then he stared at Gaius. He paused and seemed to take a view. "The Governor wishes to know why you haven't set out already, before the trail gets too cold."
"This's the first I've seen of these orders," Gaius protested.
"I think the Governor realizes that sir," the Centurion, offered. He was obviously unsure of what to say next and was uncomfortable in having to face this Tribune.
"Inform the Governor that I have only received these orders as of now," Gaius said, more firmly, "and further, inform the Governor that the first cohort and some cavalry will set out as soon as supplies are secured. That should take about three hours."
"Yes, sir," the Centurion nodded, then seemed to come to a decision as he added, "I think the Governor knows why you haven't received these orders."
"I think you do too," Gaius grinned at the Centurion.
"I think I do too," the Centurion nodded, then saluted, and left.
The three hours were frantic, but Gaius was determined to get started. His Centurions accepted the problem, and, strangely, so did the men. There was, after all, the prospect of action, and additionally, they had a Tribune who wished to get started, and a Tribune who had begun to earn some respect. Such a Tribune had to be supported. So it was within the three hours that the sounds could be heard of the first cohort marching from the legion's camp. Each of the Centurions ordered a battery of horn signals, none of which had any meaning except to wake up the Legatus and hopefully add to his headache.
The problem was at first glance straightforward. Three hundred raiders had sacked a village, somewhere in the zone between Parthian and Roman control. This village had previously been supportive of Rome, and unless something was done, Rome's reputation would suffer. The trouble was, the village was three to four days march to the northeast, and by the time they got there, the raiders would have left long before.
The march was through more or less unrelenting desert, brownish dust, brownish rocks, and little in the way of vegetation, except for the isolated spot where water could be found, either in rock cisterns or underground and drawn from wells. In these places, green flourished, and villages built of the desert stone stood in an uncompromising fashion. The cohort marched through these, drawing only additional water. As each camp was struck on each morning, Gaius' mood became less jubilant. Yes, he was leading an expedition, but it was increasingly looking as if the best that could happen was that it would be fruitless. Not only would the raiders have left, but they would probably be in Parthia, where he could not follow. His report would look silly.
As he led the cohort into the village, he received sullen stares. The villagers had already rounded up those animals that had survived and had restored some sort of order to their lives and now they were both angry and fearful; the raiders had gone long ago, but they could return. If this was the Roman response, they were effectively defenceless. These Romans would take what little food was left, march around, then return to barracks.
Gaius duly took details, and then took the village elders to one side and got them to describe the local geography. He smiled wryly as he noted that either his map was grossly wrong, or they were lying. It did not take much imagination to guess which. It was then that he remembered the first military problem Timothy had given him. He probed deeper, and made sure he was aware of every source of drinkable water. He then assured the locals that apart from refilling with water, the cohort would not require any food or supplies, although the horses would require more forage. He would pay for that now.
The situation was not promising. There were few clues as to where the raiders might have gone, or, for that matter, where they might have come from. Still, he had clear orders. Even though the prospect of catching the raiders was remote, he was ordered to at least give the impression that he had tried. It had to be clear that the raiders had fled from the might of Rome. It had to be clear that Rome had not merely turned up, took some details, shrugged, and gone home.
He ordered the cohort to march east, further into the desert. He refused his Centurions' wishes to split up, and search in several directions; the raiders would have long made their escape, and the last thing he needed was a century to get lost in the desert.
Vague clues of the raider's camp sites were found, but the trail seemed distinctly cold, until one evening, a camp site was found that had been used more than once, and the last time had been very recent. Where to next? To the northwest was a small oasis, while to the northeast there was the road through the hills that was the obvious route back to Parthia. Apart from that, there were some of what seemed like dried riverbeds, some rounded barren hills, and flat desert. According to the villagers there was virtually nothing at the oasis, and it was not even on his map, so the following morning the cohort marched towards the pass.
They had marched for three hours and the cohort was about to enter a small gully when a scout reported. "We've found the raiders, sir, and there's a camp of about three hundred men near the mouth of the pass."
"A camp?" Gaius asked dubiously. "There? That doesn't sound right. Are you sure?"
"Oh, it's there," the man said, "and it's obvious. We're expected to see it."
"So, what else's there?" Gaius mused, more to himself than to the scout.
"Another five thousand," the scout replied. "That's rough, of course, but I counted them last night by the fires."
"And they're in the pass, waiting to ambush us?" Gaius asked.
"No sir. If you climb this little hill and look over to the east, you'll see about half of them have headed south."
"Hmmm," Gaius mused. "Then they're either going back to raid the village we just left, or they're trying to encircle us."
"They're mainly infantry, sir. They're trying to encircle us."
"Infantry?" Gaius asked in shock. "You mean they're soldiers?"
"Yes sir."
Gaius looked at the scout, then mused, "If there's that many of them, I suppose they would be, wouldn't they." The scout stood there, unsure of what to do, then Gaius asked, "Are there any horsemen at this camp?"
"No horses sir. The camp is supposed to look an easy target."
"I see. Then describe what you know about the land ahead."
"You come out of this gully, march about an hour ahead and there's another, which would take a man about half an hour to get through, then after that it's flat land towards the pass. Good cavalry land, and no possibility of a surprise attack."
"Thank you," Gaius said. "I want you to go ahead, and when you get to the second gully, find a route which will keep us under cover for as long as possible towards the oasis to the north-west."
"Yes, sir."
The situation seemed reasonably clear. Three hundred men attack a village, a cohort pursues, finds the three hundred who then flee into the pass, the cohort marches towards the pass then pursues the raiders into the pass, whereupon five thousand soldiers close from the rear. The cohort would be driven through the pass into land the Parthians claimed, then the Romans would be killed on Parthian land, an invasion of land denied to Rome by treaty. Either that, or the cohort would be killed and somewhere else would be sacked. Possibly Palmyra! If another few cohorts came out and were destroyed, a legion would have been picked off in parts. For some reason, at least some Parthians wished to resume war, and this was a fair way to start one.