The Legion

'This is going to be tricky,' said Macro as he stood on the foredeck of the felucca with Cato and surveyed the west bank of the Nile the following morning. The enemy had several patrols watching the movements of the Romans on the opposite side of the river. 'They'll see us coming and be ready to give us some grief wherever we land.'

Cato nodded. The enemy would be able to head off any attempt to cross the river. The problem was made worse by the lack of boats with which to make the crossing. The moment that the people of Diospolis Magna had heard of the enemy's presence so close to the city, many of them had fled. The wealthier inhabitants had hired every available boat and had set off downriver with as much of their portable wealth as possible. By the time Aurelius took action to stop the flight, there were only a handful of barges and feluccas left. Enough to carry five hundred men at a time. The Roman officers on the felucca had already seen at least that number of men waiting for them on the west bank. Any attempt at a landing would be in the face of superior numbers. The first men over the river were going to have to hold their ground while the boats returned with reinforcements. It would be tricky indeed, Cato agreed, with a wry smile at Macro's understatement.

'Tricky or not, it has to be done,' Aurelius announced from the main deck where he sat on a padded stool. One of the headquarters slaves stood behind him, holding a sunshade over the legate. A handful of other officers stood on the deck in the open sun, sweating profusely in the heat. Although there was a strong breeze blowing, the hot air it carried across the river merely added to the discomfort. Aurelius pondered a moment before continuing. 'Before the army can advance, we have to remove the threat posed by this enemy column.'

Macro stared at the nearest of the Arab patrols: six men on camels keeping level with the boat as it sailed slowly upriver, safely beyond bowshot. He was frustrated by the legate's failure to get stuck into the enemy. His patience, limited at the best of times, was being sorely tested by the vacillation of his superior. 'Sir, we don't know how many of them there are over there. It could be a relatively small force. We should focus our attention on dealing with the main army. In my view, it is dangerous to keep handing the initiative over to the Nubians. We should press on and deal with Prince Talmis, sir.'

Cato glanced quickly at Aurelius, but the legate did not take issue with this challenge to his authority. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the deck in thought. 'I am not so sure that is wise. It would be dangerous to leave our base in Diaspolis Magna while the enemy is lurking nearby. What if they cross the Nile and attack? They could take the city, destroy our stores and then march on our rear. We would be trapped between the two enemy forces. If we are defeated, then there will be nothing standing between the Nubians and the delta. Governor Petronius will not be able to stop their advance.' Aurelius looked up at Macro. 'If we lose control of the Nile then the wheat supply will be cut off. Alexandria would starve, not to mention the mob in Rome who depend on the grain from Egypt. No, the risk is too great. We must deal with the enemy forces one at a time.' He nodded towards the Arabs. 'Starting with them.'

Macro stirred, about to protest, but Cato addressed him in an undertone. 'He's right. We have to take care of our flank first.'

Macro pressed his lips together for a moment before he replied. 'At this rate the campaign will drag on for months. What about Ajax? Why give him time to escape us again? Is that what you want?'

'Of course not. But we must deal with one threat at a time.'

Macro was silent for a moment before he growled, 'Then we'd better get on with it, hadn't we?'

The legate cleared his throat. 'If you two have finished?'

Cato and Macro faced him and Aurelius glared at them briefly before he continued. 'We must get sufficient men across the Nile to deal with the enemy. Clearly the best course of action is to cross the Nile further downriver and march back along the bank to engage them. The First Cohort should be sufficient to cope with the task.' He nodded towards Macro. 'It is the strongest unit in the legion and should easily defeat the enemy column. Once Centurion Macro has driven the enemy off, I shall send the Syrian cavalry cohort across to screen our flank as the main column marches on Prince Talmis.' He paused. 'Any questions?'

The officers surrounding him remained silent. Cato looked at the Arab patrol keeping pace with the boat, then turned back to face the legate and responded as diplomatically as he could.

'Sir, while I agree with your plan, there is one aspect of it that causes me some disquiet.'

Macro frowned. 'Disquiet?'

'Oh?' Aurelius raised an eyebrow. 'And what aspect would that be, Tribune?'

Cato pointed to the patrol. 'They are following us and watching our every move. The enemy will be ready to contest the landing wherever Centurion Macro and his men attempt to cross the Nile.'

'I can handle that,' Macro said firmly, looking steadily at the legate. 'You have my word on it, sir.'

Aurelius smiled thinly and turned his gaze back to Cato. 'Your friend seems unconcerned by the prospect of a fight. So your sense of disquiet is misplaced. Of course I understand that an officer of your years might be unnerved by the prospect of a river crossing.'

Cato stared at his superior as he struggled to keep his face clear of any expression that might betray his anger at the legate's accusation. He swallowed and spoke in a flat tone when he replied. 'I can assure you, sir, I understand the risks entailed in making an opposed landing across a river as wide as the Nile. Indeed, I took part in such an action during the invasion of Britannia.' Images of the landing briefly flitted through Cato's mind – the languid flow of the Tamesis as he stood in the crowded barge with the men of his century, staring at the roaring horde of Celt warriors waiting for them on the far bank. Yes, he knew the danger that the First Cohort would face, Cato reflected. He cleared his throat and continued addressing the legate.

'That was not my point though, sir. What occurs to me is that since the enemy will be able to oppose the First Cohort wherever they attempt to cross, Centurion Macro might as well cross the Nile here as anywhere else. It would save time, if nothing else.'

'I see.' Aurelius stroked his chin as he looked across the water at the enemy-held bank where the Arab patrol returned his gaze. 'You are right, Tribune. But I wonder,' he turned back to Cato, 'if you would make such a proposal if it entailed putting your own life at risk.'

'Of course, sir. I would be honoured to join the First Cohort when they assault the far bank.'

Aurelius's lips lifted in a thin smile. 'Then you shall have your wish.'

Macro stared round at the rest of the centurions of the First Cohort. Most of them were good men, according to their records and his assessment of them in the days since he had assumed command. Two were newly promoted, former optios replacing officers who had failed to complete the route march. They might well be new to the rank but they were tough veterans keen to prove themselves worthy members of the legion's centurionate.

'I know this kind of action is new to you,' Macro began. 'You may have served along the Nile, or on the delta, since you joined up, but let me tell you, an amphibious operation is a difficult beast at the best of times. It's not standard procedure for the legions, and the tribune and I have only had to take part in a handful of actions of this kind.'

That was something of an overstatement, Cato mused. Macro looked at him and Cato nodded reassuringly for the benefit of the other officers before the commander of the First Cohort continued.

'We will not be going into action as a cohort. Nor indeed as centuries. It'll be every man for himself until we gain a foothold on the far bank. Once we are ashore, it's vital that your men form up on the standards as quickly as they can. Make sure your section leaders know that. They're to look out for their men and try and keep them together. The sooner we can form up each century, and then the cohort, the better our chances of surviving until the follow-up wave can cross the river.' Macro paused and then pointed across to the narrow island, little more than a strip of silt surrounded by reeds, that stood two hundred paces from the far bank. 'I've chosen to cross over there, close to the island.'