Marching With Caesar-Antony and Cleopatra: Part I-Antony, page 30
She brought young Caesarion with her this time, arriving in state, coming overland and not on the huge barge like the last time, but with the same pomp and ceremony. They both wore the regalia of the thrones of Upper and Lower Egypt, the streets of the city packed with people gawking at this sight. As dramatic as their entrance was, the meeting between Cleopatra and Antonius was decidedly anti-climactic when compared to the last time, but I suppose having children together will do that to a couple. It did not take long, however, for the queen of Egypt to strike. Before she was in the city for more than a week, a pronouncement came from Antonius granting Cleopatra Phoenicia, Coele-Syria, the island of Cyprus, part of Nabataea, and the mountainous region of Judaea that produced balsam oil, which did not sit well with Herod at all. In fact, I happened to be at Antonius’ headquarters when he came waddling in, his face matching the purple in his robe. Back when Quintus Dellius was part of Antonius’ staff, he and Herod had been thick as thieves, but while I viewed Fonteius as nothing more than a different version of Dellius, to his credit he was clearly not of the same mind as Dellius when it came to Herod. I was amused to see him peremptorily order Herod to take a seat in the outer office while he went to ask Antonius if the Triumvir would see the fat toad. I had been bringing my daily report and really had no reason to linger, but I could not leave until I saw what happened, so I stopped to talk to Ahenobarbus, a supremely disagreeable man in many ways, yet one who was a true military man, despite his patrician status. I could see that he was doing the same thing as I, waiting to see what would happen, so I am sure he had no idea what we were talking about either. After a moment, the door opened and Fonteius emerged, but before he could shut it, I caught a glimpse of Cleopatra, reclining on a couch in a simple linen shift, looking very pleased with herself, with Antonius similarly dressed sitting next to her and reading a scroll. She had not aged much in the more than five years since we had last seen each other, at least as far as I could see, still having the same birdlike thinness as always. Her hair was pulled back in braids in the style that she preferred, and as she was watching Fonteius leave, our eyes met briefly so I bowed to her. I saw her eyes show recognition and I was absurdly pleased when she nodded her head in return. Regally, of course, just the merest nod of recognition that a queen makes to a subject, but Ahenobarbus did not miss the exchange, his interest in our conversation clearly increasing as he looked at me sharply. Before he could say anything though, Fonteius told Herod that the Triumvir Marcus Antonius was indisposed, engaged in several pressing issues pertaining to matters of state and could not be disturbed at this moment. Of course, Herod had the same view as we had and knew that this was a bald lie, so he did not take the rebuff well.
“This is because of that . . . that woman, isn’t it?” he demanded of nobody in particular, I supposed, given that none of the men in the outer room were likely to say anything.
“I assure you that this was Marcus Antonius’ decision alone, and it is not that he won’t see you at all, he simply cannot at this time,” Fonteius said smoothly, but Herod cut him off with an impatient gesture.
“That’s not what I am talking about and you know it,” he snapped.
I marveled that his face seemed to be turning a darker purple with every beat of his fat heart, and I began to wonder if I might actually get to see him explode.
“I am referring to his decision to cede the balsam production of Judaea, my kingdom,” he emphasized, “to that . . . woman.”
I was sure that nobody present, with perhaps the exception of me, thought much of Cleopatra, but neither was anybody willing to utter a slur against her, not even when he was a king himself. By this point in time, there was no doubt in any Roman man’s mind that Cleopatra held Antonius completely in her grasp, that grasp being around the most sensitive part of a man’s body, so any insult to her, Antonius would view as an insult to himself.
“I do not presume to know what the Triumvir based his decision on, but I can assure you that it was done in the best long-term interests of Rome, and not one of her vassals.”
Oh, Fonteius was smooth, I will give him that. Still, that was a huge insult to refer to a king, even if it was of a client kingdom, as a vassal, and for a moment I thought I was going to get my wish in seeing Herod splatter himself all over the walls. His mouth opened then shut several times like a fish pulled out of water, but no sound came out. Finally, he came to his feet, not without some effort because of his girth, and stormed out, as much as a waddling man can.
“Well, that was interesting,” grunted Ahenobarbus and for an instant, I thought he had forgotten what he had seen as I turned to leave.
“But what was more interesting was that little exchange between you and her.” He said this more loudly than he needed to, since I had only moved a couple of paces away. Nonetheless, it had the desired effect as I turned to face him, walking back so that we could talk quietly. Ahenobarbus was an ugly man, in about every possible way, completely bald and I towered over him, but he was still an officer who outranked me, so I kept my tone respectful, not using my size to intimidate him as I sometimes did.
“She obviously remembers me from Alexandria,” I said truthfully. His face clouded as he tried to make sense of what I said, while I went on to explain.
“Ah, that’s right. That business of the siege when Caesar dallied there. I don’t see the appeal in her, frankly.” He shook his head, frowning. “But she must have something to trap a man like Caesar into giving her a child.”
“And Antonius,” I added helpfully, relieved that he seemed to accept what I had offered at face value. He gave a sour laugh.
“It doesn’t take much to trap Antonius. Just the right equipment between the legs. Although I will say that I’ve never seen him like this before,” he added, making it clear that he did not approve.
As we prepared for the invasion, I spent every available moment with Gaius, my appreciation of what his Century weapons instructor had to endure rising dramatically with every session. It was not that Gaius was particularly bad working with sword and shield; it was more a case where the things that came naturally to me did not come as easily to him, partly because of our respective size, but also because I believe that the gods just endow some men with more ability and talent in certain areas than others. Gaius was just not as gifted. However, he was willing to work, and no matter what he had been forced to endure during the day, he would be at my tent after dinner to take his extra lessons. And I was as hard on him as on any tiro that I trained, probably more so because of who he was and the circumstances we both found ourselves facing. There were moments that he could barely stand, and it would not take much to knock him down with my shield when we were working on his offense, but he would always climb to his feet to try again. Gradually, he improved, until I was confident that he could at least survive the first several moments of his first engagement, though I was dubious about anything more than that. Scribonius worked with him as well, and I have to say that I was somewhat chagrined to see that he seemed to respond better to Scribonius’ instruction than to mine.
“You’re working under a couple of handicaps,” Scribonius explained one evening when I asked him why this was. “First, you’re his uncle and you care about him, probably more than you realize, and he picks up on that and it makes the both of you tense.”
I considered this, then nodded my understanding, seeing the truth in what he said.
“The second problem is that you’re just unnaturally gifted at this, Titus. What comes so easily to you doesn't with most other people, and you get impatient when others can’t do what comes so easily to you.”
While I did not particularly like hearing this, it was not the first time. In fact, his words echoed something Vibius had complained about many years before. I thought I had learned to compensate for this attribute, but apparently, I had not, at least as much as I thought.
In every other respect, Gaius was the perfect Legionary, and despite the men’s initial ambivalence to having a youngster suddenly thrust into their midst, the combination of his cheerfulness and his willingness to do more than his share gradually won the men over, until he not only was accepted, he became something of a mascot for not just his Century, but the whole Second Cohort. I wrote to Valeria, assuring her that Gaius was safe and was at the very least under my care and guidance, though I did not expect that to soothe her all that much.
As we learned, despite what Ahenobarbus thought, Antonius was not the lovesick fool that his fellow patrician believed him to be. For ceding the territories to Cleopatra that she had asked for, in return Antonius extracted a payment of several thousand talents to help pay for the Parthian expedition. This came at a cost; in return for such a heavy investment, Cleopatra insisted on not only accompanying the army when it marched, but being present at strategy meetings. Not confining herself to the higher command, she insisted on inflicting her presence with the Primi Pili as well. As can be imagined, this did not sit well with any Roman, at any level, though I cannot say that I was all that surprised when I walked in to see her sitting in a chair next to, but slightly behind, Antonius. I had walked to the meeting with Corbulo, who grunted in disbelief at the sight of the Egyptian queen sitting there, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a woman to be in a council of war.
“What by Cerberus’ balls is she doing here?” he muttered.
“She’s paying for this expedition,” I answered, remembering back to our time in Alexandria. Cleopatra had insisted on being present then as well, but whenever she tried to voice her opinion, Caesar had gently but firmly put her in her place, so that after a time she had ceased showing up. Now I was curious to see whether Antonius would do the same to an older and more assertive Cleopatra.
“So? She’s a woman. She doesn’t have any business in a war council. I don’t care if she is a queen,” Corbulo grumbled as we took our seats near the back.
There were ten Primi Pili, along with the commanders of the auxiliary forces and members of Antonius’ staff, so there were perhaps 50 men all together, along with Cleopatra. It was clear to see that Corbulo’s reaction was not unique; the grumbling and whispered comments only subsiding when Antonius called the meeting to order, refusing to acknowledge the undercurrent in the room while acting as if having a woman in a meeting of this nature were the most natural thing in the world. Antonius began the meeting by outlining the basic plan, starting with our planned date of departure for the initial staging area at Zeugma, which would be accomplished in phases, segments of the army making the march from Antioch over a period of a few weeks. From Zeugma, we would follow the Euphrates back to Samosata, which was still recovering from our siege and assault, then turn north, instead of into Mesopotamia, which was what Crassus did. It was somewhere about this point that Cleopatra spoke. While I do not remember what she objected to, or what point she raised, I do remember the reaction. There was an audible gasp from several of the men, most notably from Ahenobarbus and Marcus Titius, who was serving as the army quartermaster. All eyes turned to Antonius, waiting for him to rebuke Cleopatra and put her in her place. However, he did no such thing, in fact answering her instead in a tone that made it clear to everyone that he considered her input equally as valuable as anyone else’s in the meeting. This was too much for Ahenobarbus, for one, who leaped to his feet, clearly furious.
“See here, Antonius. You might choose to treat your lover as if she's Bellona incarnate, but that doesn't mean that we have to sit and listen to it.”
Before Antonius said a word, Cleopatra sat forward, staring directly into Ahenobarbus’ eyes, not blinking.
“In fact you do, Gnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus, because not only am I funding this whole adventure, but I am no stranger to military matters. I can boast of having none other than Gaius Julius Caesar as my tutor. Can you say the same? No, I think not.”
She sat back, her eyes piercing Ahenobarbus, who looked instead at Antonius, the Triumvir just shrugging and saying nothing, which was eloquent itself as to his intentions. Seeing no help coming from Antonius, Ahenobarbus turned to his fellow officers, but suddenly all of them found something exceptionally interesting about the floor. Finally, in desperation, he looked towards the back rows where the Centurions were seated, except none of us were inclined to stick our collective necks out to risk both Antonius and Cleopatra’s wrath. I had my own reasons for not supporting Ahenobarbus, but none that I was willing to share with Corbulo, or anyone for that matter. The truth is that I at that time I admired Cleopatra a great deal, and perhaps was a little in love with her, though the gods know that feeling would change. No matter what people think of her now these years later, I remember a woman who was willing to listen to a common soldier’s tale of loss and woe and for that, I will be forever grateful, no matter what happened between us later. So when the others remarked about the effrontery and cheek of the woman after we left that meeting, I kept silent, only mumbling something when I was prompted. One thing that I learned with the help of Diocles’ network of slaves was that Cleopatra was dead set against the Parthian expedition, in fact was urging Antonius to turn his attention to Rome and send his army against Octavian. Although I was not surprised to hear this, it was unsettling nonetheless, but fortunately, at that point, her hold over Antonius was not nearly as strong as men like Ahenobarbus believed because he steadfastly refused. He also somehow convinced her to accompany us only as far as Zeugma, which was the true jumping off point of the invasion anyway. Despite this setback, she insisted on doing so dressed in what I suppose was a queen’s version of armor, which did not endear her to the men as I am sure she thought it would. The truth is that we were all relieved when she left our company at Zeugma, traveling back to Egypt to continue plotting and planning, leaving Antonius to at last do what he had been planning for so many years and invade Parthia.
The first disappointment we faced when the leading contingent of the army arrived at Zeugma was the presence of Parthian garrisons on the other side of the river. Antonius had hoped that our overtures of peace, sending Monaeses back to Phraates along with the request of the return of the Legion standards lost by Crassus would lull the Parthians into believing that we had no intention of invading. While Phraates had agreed to this, he obviously had not been fooled. Over the next few weeks, the army converged at Zeugma, the Legions coming from Antioch, along with the cavalry, while the native auxiliaries marched from their respective countries to the south. We were informed that there would be other forces joining us as we marched as well, swelling our numbers to well over 100,000 men.
The army that assembled at Zeugma was the most massive in the history of Rome, at least for one side. I imagine that there were more Romans in total at Philippi, but there we were divided into two armies opposing each other. There were eleven Legions in total; the 10th of course, the 5th, the 7th, the 12th, 14th, 17th, 18th, the Deiotaran Legion, and the 3rd Gallica as it is called now, among other, newer Legions raised in Asia and Africa. Accompanying us were 10,000 cavalry from Gaul, Hispania and Galatia, along with three Cohorts of special troops that were Antonius’ personal bodyguard, called the Brundisium Cohorts because that is where Antonius recruited them several years before. This bunch was close to useless for anything other than looking fierce and breaking the heads of civilians that Antonius wanted to terrorize. Polemon of Pontus was bringing 30,000 infantry of dubious quality, along with Herod sending 5,000 Jews, who I knew could fight from my time in Egypt, though I had serious doubts about their commander, one of Herod’s courtiers. There were about 20,000 more men from the client kingdoms, a mix of infantry, cavalry and missile troops that were just more mouths to feed as far as we were concerned, with the possible exception of the missile troops, mainly the slingers. Finally, there were the Armenians of King Artavasdes, who had been a steadfast ally of the Parthians until the rise of Phraates. I suspect due in no small part to the success of Ventidius, they had thrown in with Rome, and were going to act as our guide on the expedition. In fact, it was Artavasdes who convinced Antonius to take a northern approach through Media, following the Euphrates to Samosata then turning north for a distance before striking east. Artavasdes was supplying 7,000 infantry, but more important was their cavalry, 6,000 men more or less evenly divided between horse archers and cataphracts. As a long-time ally of Parthia, the Armenians were trained to fight in the same manner as the Parthians, so they would be useful not only in matching the enemy on the field, but in telling Antonius and the officers the best way to fight them.
