As they rode on, Ferox could sense that Cerialis was right. There was more chatter as they went and the mood was more cheerful than before. He could not share it. It was freer off away from the main force, and joining them, like going back to a camp, made him feel that the army’s – and Hadrian’s – cold hand was squeezing him tighter once again. He also did not like the thought of what was about to happen.

XI

In the plain in front of Nicopolis

The Ides of April

THERE WAS POWER behind the advance, and anyone with eyes to see could spot the confidence of even the outposts of pairs of horsemen who stayed just within sight of the turma strength supports. A quarter of a mile back from them, ala I Flavia Britannica rode in close formation as the main advance guard. They went slowly, trotting now and again to reach one of the low ridges, and stopping regularly. No one could miss the confidence and determination in the way the column came on. It was a glimpse of the might of Rome, but it did not move quickly, so the cavalry in the lead spent as much time waiting and watching as they did going forward.

The same was true of the leading infantry units, cohors II Ulpia Galatarum, raised just five years ago from the province of Galatia and with no honours on its standards, and cohors II Flavia Commagenorum, a veteran unit of archers brought over from the Danube in the same convoys as Cerialis and his men. They were to act as a solid support to the cavalry, the archers forming to shoot over the heads of a couple of ranks of spearmen. A bowman on foot, if he and his bow were any good, and the soldiers from Commagene were very good, always outranged horse archers. It was a hard lesson of wars beyond the Euphrates that the Romans needed to take a good balance of different troops and make sure that they worked together. Anything else risked disaster, at least against the Parthians, and the kingdom of Osrhoene was more Parthian than it was anything else.

‘There they are again, sir.’ The senior decurion pointed towards the crest of a gentle rise about three-quarters of a mile away.

‘I see them, Clemens.’ Cerialis was shading his eyes from the sun. They were with the turma providing close support to the outposts. Since daybreak several bands, each of around a hundred horse archers, had watched the Romans. Cerialis still was not quite sure whether there were four or five bands. Only rarely was more than one visible at a time, and this was the closest any had come. When he sent a couple of riders ahead, the enemy – if that was what they were – trotted away. At first it was exciting, like the moments of waiting, heavy spear in hand, for a boar to be flushed from a thicket, but as the hours passed it became routine, even dull. Cerialis chivvied his men to make sure that the mood did not lead to carelessness. He was in command of the cavalry screen as well as his own men, so he visited the outriders along each flank of the column and found that they had seen no one. A messenger from the prefect in charge of the rearguard made the same report. Given how many miles the column stretched, that was not too surprising, at least if there were no more than four or five hundred horse archers out there. Crispinus had visited about an hour ago, taken a look, sent a centurion and interpreter riding forward and watched as the closest band cantered away from them.