“And he sent three to die in my tent, just to spread lies amongst the faithful, Labienus. That should have told you the quality of the man. He is a deceiver and I will not be deceived. You have heard my orders.”

Pompey’s eyes were coldly implacable and Labienus knew he either had to kill him or accept what he had been told. It was not a real choice.

“Yes, sir,” he said, bowing his head. “I will have my men stand down.”

Pompey saw the distress even as Labienus tried to hide it. Despite the pain that spread in waves to torment him, he forced himself to speak. “You have done well here, General. I will not forget your loyalty.”

Looking out past the camp, Pompey saw the flag-bearer turn and be swallowed by darkness. The flag was left to flutter as a smudge of dim color against the night. With a last glance at Labienus, Pompey wheeled his mount and rode away, his cavalry turning with him.

Labienus could see the frustration in their faces, mirroring his own. It had not been a trap. Labienus had seen enough battles to know the moment when the enemy broke. It could come from a single coward throwing down his sword, or even a strange unseen communication when the courage would drain from men who could not have imagined it only an hour before. He clenched his fists in rage, looking out into the blackness. His second in command hovered at his shoulder and Labienus had no words for him that he dared speak aloud.

At last, he smothered his disappointment behind a stiff mask. “Have the men build a hostile camp around the fortifications,” he said. “It will slow the work, but what does that matter?”

He clamped his mouth shut rather than continue and his second saluted and went away to pass the orders on. Labienus felt the stares of his soldiers around him and wondered how much they understood of the battle.

“You have done well tonight,” he told them on impulse. “We have wounded Caesar at last.”

They cheered at his approval and order began to return around him. The cohort he had sent to the west came in looking fresh compared to their colleagues. They had not been needed, but Labienus found a few more words for them before he returned to his tent to write the formal report. For a long time, he sat by the light of a single lamp and stared into space.