‘Thank you,’ Domitius said, but the man had gone.

XII

In front of Nicopolis

Eighteenth day before the Kalends of May
First day of the siege

‘SHE’S A BITCH,’ Caecilius concluded. ‘No doubt about it.’ He chewed his lip for a moment. Every inch the soldier when on foot, the primus pilus of Legio VIIII Hispana almost slumped in the saddle as if to show that he was an infantryman at heart. ‘A bitch.’

Crispinus felt his cheek threatening to twitch, so turned away to face back towards the main camp. The Nicopolitans were quieter now, the chanting dropped to a low buzz of noise. For the second day running, thousands of defenders had formed up between the ditch and wall, with a few score even going beyond the ditch and spreading out as a skirmish line. The cavalry were keeping their distance, just visible to the north. He had sent the Thracians to watch them and was pleased to see that their prefect was keeping his men well in hand. For the moment, he wanted to fight only if the enemy gave them no other choice. Four legionary cohorts, each three deep with an extra rank at the rear provided by the auxiliary archers, and with scorpiones in the gaps between units, formed a screen facing the city. They stood three hundred paces back from the ditch, and if the enemy had any engines on their walls capable of reaching so far then they had not yet chosen to use them. A few skirmishers who had pressed forward had run even more smartly back when the Romans sent a bolt into the ground at their feet. Crispinus’ orders were the same everywhere; be wary and keep them at a distance, but only fight if provoked.

‘It reminds me of Pergamon,’ Rufus ventured.

Caecilius sniffed, then yanked hard on the reins as his gelding started. ‘Peace, you mongrel,’ he muttered. ‘Aye, lad, there’s something in what you say. Not seen walls and towers like that in this part of the world. Old fashioned, more like Caria or Bithynia, than anything down this way.’

‘The reports we gathered were accurate?’ Crispinus asked, for to his eyes the city was exactly as he had expected.

‘Aye, well enough. Those openings halfway up the wall are for artillery. That makes the walls as thick as your spies said.’

‘Well done, Ferox,’ Crispinus said, ignoring the grunt of displeasure from Caecilius when he mentioned the name and the pointed use of the word spies rather than scouts. He was still unsure why the primus pilus did not care for Ferox, not that the centurion seemed to mind, and simply rode near the back of the group, his face wooden.

‘Means they’re hollow though,’ Rufus suggested. The young officer was steadily gaining in confidence. ‘At least for part of the way.’

‘It does, but also means they can pack the space tight with rubble quicker than we can get a ram against it.’ Caecilius glared around him. ‘Never forget that they can think too and act. It’s never just about what we plan to do. We have to out-fight, out-fox and out-last them, and they’ll try to do the same to us.’