"That will do for a start," Gabinius said.
"You enjoy croaking of doom in the midst of celebration, don't you?" Norbaniis said.
Gabinius gave them a lipless smile. "Ironic, isn't it? All this success may yet prove to be the ruin of us."
The huge legionary camp stood upon the plain of Megiddo, site of the recent battle. It was greatly expanded, for the Romans had acquired many horses and no small accumulation of loot. Near the Romans, King Jonathan's men were encamped in less orderly fashion. They had the task of guarding the prisoners.
Near the center of the Roman camp stood the praetorium. It had been the royal tent of the late King Manasseh, but Norbanus had appropriated it for his own use. Far more sumptuous than his previous campaigning tent, it had room for the twin princesses who had become a part of his following. For three successive nights since the battle, it had been the scene of a victory banquet.
Manasseh had been defeated rather handily, the Roman discipline and superiority of small unit commanders being crucial in conditions that discouraged close overall command. After long and brave resistance, Manasseh's men had finally cracked, dismayed by the iron fortitude of the Romans. Once their lines lost cohesion and men began to break away and run in panic, the slaughter was fearful. Those not caught by the legionaries or the light-armed pursuers were ridden down and lanced by Jonathan's, cavalry.
Manasseh was killed trying to rally his soldiers, and with their king dead, his whole cavalry force had surrendered en masse and pledged themselves to Jonathan, before the Romans could reach them. As these were all wellborn young men, Jonathan had accepted their oath and put them under his protection, unlike the common foot soldiers of Manasseh's army, who died in droves.
At the first night's banquet, the king of the newly united kingdom of Judea and Israel had been ebullient, flushed with success. The general hilarity and good fellowship was only marred when Norbanus had Manasseh's head delivered to him on a platter between courses. This violated some rule of local decorum, and Jonathan had insisted that his defeated rival be buried with the proper rites. He explained that he could incur divine displeasure by neglecting this duty. Norbanus complied cheerfully. It cost him nothing. Manasseh's was. not the head he longed to see on a platter before him.
The second night, the king had been cheerful. Now, on the third night of banqueting, he was thoughtful, even apprehensive.
"Titus, my friend," he said, "I am sole king now, and for this I shall always be grateful for your invaluable assistance. However, it is time that I see to the ordering of my country."
"And so you shall," Norbanus assured him. "I think what is in order first is a progress through your newly acquired northern province of Israel. Your people must see you and grow used to the idea that you are now their sole king. Since we must march northward as well, it is fitting that you accompany us, so that anyone of a seditious disposition can see just what they face should they ever have subversive thoughts."
"And this way we can make a proper leave-taking when we pass from your kingdom," said Lentulus Niger.
Jonathan forced a smile. "Excellent." He understood now For all practical purposes he was a prisoner until the Romans marched away, an event he was beginning to anticipate with some pleasure. What suspicious people, he thought. They were not at all the unsophisticated brutes he had thought them at first.
"Cheer up," Cato said, grinning. "You are a Friend and Ally of Rome now. From now on, you and your descendants can petition the Senate for assistance anytime you are threatened by enemies. And Rome will come to your aid, every time. We are the best allies in the world. We never leave a friend in the lurch."
"I shall prize the friendship of Rome always." He knew that this was true. As long as he stayed faithful to Rome, he would have those incredible legions at his call. He realized something else: He had surrendered control of his own foreign policy. From now on, his policy had to be in accord with Rome's. This was the bargain he had made to become sole king.
Two days later they were traveling north when the Parthians arrived.
The legions, accompanied by their allies and a horde of camp followers, moved briskly along the road that led to the Syrian border. At least, the Romans marched at their usual pace. Many of the legionaries were now mounted, but they restrained their horses to the speed of the footmen. The allies hurried to keep up and the camp followers straggled along for miles.
They did not at first see the approaching Parthians. What they saw instead was an immense column of dust ascending skyward miles before them. Norbanus called a halt and summoned his commanders. Together with Jonathan and his principal officers they studied the alarming prodigy.
"How many horses does it take to raise such a cloud?" Lentulus Niger wanted to know.
"It isn't the number of horses," said Lemuel, commander of Jonathan's cavalry. "It's how they are ridden. There are at least as many horsemen over there as we have here, but they are not ambling along. They are coming at a fast canter. They will be here soon."
"Signal battle formation," Norbanus said. "In close order, then sound 'prepare to receive cavalry.' Be ready to order a testudo. These Parthians are said to favor the bow:"
"What about all these horses?" Cato asked.
"We can't use them effectively yet. Take them all to the rear, except for the cavalry. Jonathan, I want your horsemen on our flanks. You stay close by me. They may ask for parley and you are king here."
Jonathan nodded. "They approach boldly. Are they eager for battle, or just anxious to meet up with Manasseh's army before battle is joined?" The Parthians could not know of the disaster Manasseh had met. Jonathan's riders had pursued and killed every horseman who tried to escape the debacle.
"They shall find a situation very different from that which they anticipated," Norbanus said. "I think they will wish to consider their options before committing themselves to action." Behind them the trumpets sounded and the legions went from marching order to battle formation with their usual efficiency.
An hour later the dust cloud was very near, and they began to see the glitter of metal in the dimness. The lead elements appeared: a great double file that wheeled right and left as the Parthians came in sight of the legions. Other formations behind them split likewise, and the dust began to settle as the horses slowed to a trot.
"Watch how far they extend their line," Jonathan cautioned. "If they form a great mass in front of us, they will want to talk. If they keep extending around our flanks, they are going for a surround and we can expect arrows momentarily."
Norbanus nodded, approving of both Jonathan's advice and his calm. He was not nervous, as at the earlier battle. He had confidence in his new allies. For his own part, Norbanus had little apprehension. Romans did not fear arrows, and cavalry could not break disciplined infantry. Still, he was ready for anything. These Parthians were something new, and they might know tricks and stratagems the Romans had never encountered.
Some of the horsemen before them were heavily armored and carried long lances, but most were archers, with light armor or none at all. All rode like men born on horseback. Only the very best Roman riders looked so natural in the saddle. In short order, the Parthians formed a mass perhaps five hundred yards in length, many lines deep. A small group rode forward, halting halfway between the two armies.