He winked as he finished speaking and Julius smiled faintly, realizing suddenly that Cornix had come with him to die, perhaps preferring a quick end to a lonely, drawn-out agony in some desolate hunter’s cabin. He wondered how many of the others wanted to throw their lives away with the last of their courage, rather than wait for a death that crept up on them in the night. Julius shivered slightly as he walked back to the campfires, though the day was not cold.

*                                                      *                                                      *

There was no way to be sure where Mithridates camped with his irregulars. The reports Julius had from Roman survivors behind them could be mistaken, or the Greek king could have moved many miles while the Wolves were marching into the area. The biggest worry was that the two forces would stumble on each other’s scouts and be forced into action before Julius was ready. His own scouts understood that all their lives depended on not being spotted, and Julius had the fastest and fittest of them traveling out for miles looking for fresh signs of the enemy while the bulk of the Wolves concealed themselves in the scrub woodland. It was a frustrating time. Forbidden fire and unable to hunt widely, they were cold and damp each night and barely warmed by the weak sun that came to them through the trees during the day.

After four days of inaction, Julius was practically ready to order the men into the open and take the consequences. All but three of his scouts had come in past the outer line of guards and were eating cold food with the others in miserable silence.

Julius chafed as he waited for the last three. He knew they were in the right area, having found a slaughtered Roman century stripped of armor and weapons only five miles to the east, caught unawares as they guarded a lonely fort. The bodies looked pitiful in death and no words Julius might have said could have fired his men’s determination so thoroughly.

The scouts came in together, thudding through the wet leaves with the slow trot they used to cover miles without a rest. Ignoring the cold stew that waited for them, they came straight to Julius, their faces tired but animated with excitement. All three had been out for the whole four days, and Julius knew immediately that they had found the enemy at last.

“Where are they?” he asked, standing quickly.

“Thirty miles further west,” one replied, eager to get the news out. “It’s a heavy camp. It looks as if they’re preparing to defend against the legions coming from Oricum. They’ve dug in at a narrow point between two sharp slopes.” He paused for breath and one of the others took up the report without a pause.