And so the army marched, feet dragging and tongues beginning to swell. But just before the ordeal became unbearable they would reach one of the caches, and the dole of water and grain would be made. It was. not enough to satisfy, only sufficient to sustain life, but that it did.
On the long march Casca again kept his own counsel, his mind trying to make some sense out of his existence. What was it Shiu had said… that life is the great circle and that what was will be again, and nothing is destroyed, only changed? The legion. I have returned once more, yet nothing has changed in the years since last I fought for Rome. Everything is the same. The talk, the desires, the fears… The years have changed, but not man… and not me. I still feel the same as I did when I served with the Seventh in Germany. Even the duties are the same. Well, shit. If I am condemned to live, you would think at least that I wouldn't get so thirsty or hungry. I know that I don't get sick as the others do when things get rough and there's a lack of food and water. But I feel all the thirst they do… and the hunger. Right now I could eat the south end of a north-bound hyena.
The days passed. The country changed to a surrealistic landscape of rock. And finally the word came back from the front column and ran along the thirty miles of marching soldiers: "The Euphrates! We are at the valley. The river is in sight."
The desire to run for the river overcame many of the soldiers, but they were beaten back at Avidius's order. He would allow no intimation of any kind of panic or disorder. Forcing his troops into line, rank by rank, he marched them toward the river Euphrates. There they put their faces into the alluvial waters that had fed the first empires of earth. Casca, like the others, drank deep, filling his belly until it seemed it would either burst or throw up. It did neither. When they had drunk, Avidius Cassius ordered camp to be set up and foragers to be sent out. From here on they would wear their armor and follow the rules and regulations of the conventional order of battle.
Ctesiphon lay fifty miles away. Two days' march, and they would reach their objective. But first, a day's rest…
The legions formed. The outriders were sent racing ahead to stop any warning of their approach. All villagers and other persons in the path were herded into retaining pens to prevent their informing the capital of the approach of the eagles and their allies.
It was amazing what one day's rest could accomplish. With that one day the Romans had reconstituted themselves and were even now looking as formidable as if they were parading on the Field of Mars in Rome itself.
The foragers returned, driving cattle and sheep before them. Wagons were sent out to loot the villages of their stored grain. The Roman army would feed on the land, and if in their path they left starvation for those of the land they crossed, well, that was just the way it was… and always had been. Eat, or be eaten.
Avidius sent his Arab contingents racing ahead of the main army. They reached and isolated the city of the Greek kings, Seleucia. The Arabs kept the inhabitants inside the walls, and no messenger reached Ctesiphon. Just a few hours across the Tigris the lights of the great temple of Zeus gleamed in the evening, the fires on his altar symbolizing eternity. The light cavalry of the Arabs performed its task admirably. The slower foot soldiers of the legion advanced, escorted by their heavy cavalry. That night the legion rested within eyeshot of Ctesiphon and made ready for the crossing of the river. Confiscating all boats and barges, before dawn broke they had established a bridgehead on the other side and had begun the crossing. Time after time, like strange water-borne beetles, the small boats and skin coracles of the native fishermen served Rome, transporting soldiers. The horses and livestock were herded across under their own power.
It would have been a miracle for the Roman forces to be able to reach the walls of Ctesiphon without being observed, but through the planning of Avidius they did reach within striking distance. The city faced the Romans before any help could reach the Parthians from the distant battlefields of Europa and Amida. There the forces of Parthia were embroiled in a bleeding fight with their Armenian enemies, Romans, and Cappadocians. Even as Avidius approached Ctesiphon, the defeated Parthians were withdrawing from the battle around Europa, and that city was in Roman hands. The Parthians had achieved greater success against the Armenians who had not had the benefit of Roman troop support to stiffen their lines and serve as a model. The Armenians were reeling back to their own border in panic, pursued by the heavy cavalry of the Parthian empire. Yet even their defeat served the purposes of Avidius Cassius well enough. All these actions had drawn off the majority of the armed forces of Parthia. By the time they could return to their capital it would be too late. Even if they came faster than expected, they would be exhausted and worn out from their trials and battles. Avidius was confident of his victory.
Casca watched the preparations for the coming battle with a detached eye. Gradually, though, an unusual and oddly upsetting feeling began to possess him. It was as though he were someone else watching the scenario of his life being endlessly repeated. Even the simplest routine things took on an oddly misplaced, unreal tinge. The pylum on his shoulder and the wicker container full of light throwing spears-even the small steel heads and bamboo bodies of the spears themselves-seemed to be slightly unreal… as though he were watching a circular dream that went round and round. He wondered if he were going mad.
The army drew near to the city and finally invested it all around. Avidius Cassius sent this message to the city elders:
Hail, citizens of Ctesiphon.
I am Avidius Cassius, praetor and consul of Rome. I make you this one offer-and no more.
Send out your men to fight, and we shall settle this as men of war should. Your armies in the battles to the north, at Europa and Amida, have been destroyed. How else should I be here before your walls unopposed? Surrender the city, or send out your men to do battle. If you agree to surrender, I give you my solemn oath on the honor of Rome that none in your city shall suffer or be sold into slavery. There shall be no rape or pillaging.
But if you refuse, again on my honor I swear that every living thing in your city shall perish, even unto the beasts and vermin. I shall level your city to the earth and sow the ground with salt so that nothing may ever live here again. That is my word and my honor. Surrender, or come forth and do battle. You have until the first light of dawn to make your reply. And then all shall die.
I am AVIDIUS CASSIUS
Commander of the Roman Forces in Parthia
That night the legion dug in around the only entrances to and from the city. Casca sat watching the walls, wondering what the next day would bring. Would the city surrender? Or fight? Most of the Parthian cavalry was away to the battles in Europa and Amidas, but there were still the city guards and many veterans who remained behind. The city should be able to muster at least thirty thousand men. Well, we'll find out in the morning… Casca made a meal of dates and barley ground together and washed the whole down with a mouthful of water from the Tigris. Wrapping his cloak around him, he found a soft spot on the earth and curled up after shifting around for a few minutes and moving some small stones out of critical spots.