Men would die whatever he did, probably many of them, for the garrisons across the Danube were scattered and vulnerable and nothing could be done about that. A few small disasters were both inevitable and useful to prove the seriousness of the situation to those far away. What he needed to do was make sure that the losses served a purpose, channelling the blaze and giving him the chance to slow it and then stop it, while making sure that all could see what he had done.
A slave entered and coughed, in case his arrival had gone unnoticed.
‘What is it?’ Hadrian asked. The masseur continued his work, knowing his master’s preferences.
‘The noble Lucius Marcius wishes to see you, my lord.’
‘Let him come in,’ Hadrian said, suspecting that the tribune had come on business.
If Marcius was surprised to see his commander naked and being rubbed by a slave, he did not show it. ‘Half of the waggons are now across the river, my lord. The remainder will have to wait for tomorrow as the ferry is needed for a caravan of merchants who have the permission of the legatus Augusti to cross.’
Hadrian sniffed.
‘Once the rest are across there will be forty-seven waggons and two hundred pack mules, carrying a mix of wheat, flour, salted bacon and wine,’ Marcius said. ‘The detailed list is here.’ He passed a writing tablet to the slave who had ushered him in. ‘It is a great deal, and I cannot help wondering whether they have the space for it at Piroboridava.’
‘They will make the space, my dear fellow. I doubt that they have rebuilt any of the lost granaries, but I am sure that they can find somewhere for everything to go.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘You still appear troubled, my dear Lucius.’
Marcius gulped nervously, but to his credit persisted. ‘It is the escort, my lord. Fifty infantrymen and a dozen cavalrymen all under a mere duplicarius and from a ragbag of different units. It seems too few for such a large convoy.’
‘There are the galearii – they will double the numbers.’
The struggle not to point out that the army slaves were poorly trained and unprepared for any serious fighting was plain on the tribune’s face.
‘We are not at war, are we?’ Hadrian asked.
‘No, sir, but the Roxolani tend to be thick on the ground at this time of year. They are thieves, my lord, and utterly brazen when they are tempted and believe the pickings to be easy.’
Well done, for seeing the threat, Hadrian thought to himself, his opinion of Marcius steadily improving. ‘But I cannot spare you to go,’ he said out loud and enjoyed the shock on the man’s face. ‘Nor an escort commensurate with your rank. Nor can I spare even a centurion and a couple of hundred legionaries. The bridge is what matters more than anything else and we must get it finished.’ That was an excuse he was using a lot, for he had taken it upon himself to see that the work was done. Apollodorus resented his involvement, but was glad of the fresh impetus and increase in the labour force. Hadrian had even persuaded the governor to send more troops, including half of the men from Legio I Minervia currently at Viminiacum.
‘Still,’ Hadrian went on. ‘I am pleased with your diligence and willingness to speak up. Find a reliable cavalryman to carry a message to Piroboridava with all haste. I shall order Ferox to lead a strong force out so that they can meet the convoy half way and protect it on the rest of the journey. Does that satisfy you?’
‘Of course, my lord,’ Marcius said, lying reasonably convincingly in the circumstances. It was no real solution, for the convoy would be on its own for two or three days given the slow plod of the draft oxen.
‘Risks sometimes cannot be avoided, and unless we could find several hundred spare soldiers we could not make them absolutely safe. We have not the men available, and even if we had they would need to eat on the journey, which would mean adding another twenty mules or a couple of carts because they would all need to come back.’ Hadrian was exaggerating, but only a little. ‘The more men we add the slower they will all go and the more food is wasted on the journey. And if we add a handful it will not make any real difference should there be an attack. … But I do not think there will be any attack, for the Roxolani would not take the risk of punishment. They will know that Ferox has a fair few cavalrymen, and that it would be hard to make off with waggons and not be caught.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Marcius’ face was wooden, and Hadrian could not blame the man at all. The flaws in all that he had said were obvious to anyone with a little sense and experience, and the tribune had both.
‘It is a risk, but soldiering has a lot of risks,’ Hadrian said blandly, and knew he must sound like a fool. This was a gamble and a deliberate one, based on how he felt people behaved, and especially barbarians. Added to that was Ferox’s account of his visit to the Roxolani and his comments on where their loyalty lay. The convoy and its escort might well be one of the houses he had to pull down to stop the fire from spreading, a prize too tempting and too weak for the Sarmatians to resist. If not, then the food would reach Piroboridava and give the garrison a greater chance of holding out for a long time if there was a siege. ‘But make sure that the trooper who takes the letter to Ferox understands how important it is that he gets there quickly. That ought to give them time to put together a column and meet the convoy in plenty of time.’
‘Sir.’ Marcius left, and Hadrian turned his mind to the letter he was writing to Trajan. The wording was delicate, and at the same time had to appeal to the princeps’ preference for direct, soldierly reports. In it Hadrian spoke of his certainty that war was coming:
Decebalus is preparing and breaking every part of the treaty. Apart from his attack on the Iazges, his envoys go about the tribes of the whole area, bribing with gold and promising more. His forts are being rebuilt, his army trained and deserters welcomed with rich reward. It is only a question of when he will strike rather than if, and at present our garrisons are spread out and weaker than they should be, with so many men detached from the standards on other duties.
That was a nice touch, for it was an obsession of the emperor that units were depleted by the demands of communities and officials for officers and men as escorts or to police roads and cities.
In the past, Decebalus and other Dacians have launched unprovoked surprise attacks on our provinces and allies, and it is surely most likely that they will do the same once again. An attack using one of the mountain passes – or by the king’s allies across the plains against Moesia Inferior – could get across the Danube and lay waste a wide area before sufficient soldiers can be gathered to stop it.
Hadrian wondered whether that was quite right. He wanted to show a rare insight without too accurate a prediction, which might raise questions as to why he had not done more or spoken up sooner.
I have arranged to revictual the garrison at Piroboridava, which included veterans from Legio I Minervia and a strong force of Britons recruited in the wake of the troubles in that province several years ago. The post is commanded by Flavius Ferox, centurion of II Augusta on detached service, and in spite of his humble origins he appears to be a capable officer. Yet this fort is isolated, and the only one guarding the road leading directly to Dobreta and the works there.
Was that all too specific? By the time the letter arrived in Rome Hadrian had little doubt that the war would have begun, and he was sure that he was right and one of the main attacks would strike first at Piroboridava heading for the great bridge. Perhaps there was a way of hinting at all this and he would need to think about it.