Tarquinius inclined his head. 'And you, Romulus.'
He flushed with delight.
'We 'd do a better job than Crassus,' chuckled Brennus.
'That would not be difficult.' Tarquinius squinted at the Parthians, counting under his breath.
Bassius ordered his men to take up a defensive position on the ridge. One cohort could do little but wait for the rest of the army to catch up. Not a man moved from the Parthian force. Their trap sprung, the enemy was content to let the Romans take up battle formation.
'Shows how confident their leader is. They could be riding in and showering us with arrows.'
'Maybe he wants to fight Crassus in single combat!' joked the Gaul. 'We could put our feet up and watch.'
'It'll be common soldiers bleeding today,' said Tarquinius. 'Not leaders.'
Reconciling himself to his fate, Brennus shrugged his massive shoulders. 'Lanistae. Generals. Whoever. They give the orders. Men like us die.'
Keeping the Etruscan's reassuring words uppermost in his mind, Romulus prayed to Jupiter, his guide since childhood.
You did not need to be a soothsayer to know that thousands would die in the forthcoming battle.
And possibly one of them.
'Where is Ariamnes?' Crassus sat bolt upright in the saddle, his face pinched with anger.
Nobody answered.
There had been no sign of the Nabataeans since dawn. With the full Parthian army in sight, it was obvious that the Romans' erstwhile ally would not be returning.
Ariamnes was a traitor.
'Son of a whore! I will have him disembowelled. Then crucified.'
Longinus tactfully cleared his throat. 'What are your orders, sir?'
Crassus glared at him, but, unwilling to acknowledge any mistakes, his eyes dropped away. 'Cavalry on the wings. Cohorts in one square formation,' the general blustered, picking the boldest tactic he could think of. 'That rabble will take one look at us and flee.'
The grizzled legate gasped. 'And leave gaps between the units?'
'Those are my orders. Is that clear?' said Crassus, bunching his jaw. Although he could immediately see what Longinus meant, his monumental pride was still smarting at the exposure of Ariamnes' treachery. 'This way their greater numbers of horse cannot flank us.'
'Yes, but it also allows those bastards to ride between us,' replied Longinus, expecting his fellow officers to voice their support. None was forthcoming. The legate glared at them, then continued undeterred. 'Sir, solid lines would be better. Then only a small number of men could be attacked at one time.'
Crassus' eyes bulged. 'Are you questioning my orders again?'
'Merely offering advice.'
'Insubordination!' Crassus cried. The black cloak he had donned that morning clung to his back, soaked in sweat. The legionaries on guard nearby eyed it uneasily. Black was the colour of death. 'Get into position, Legate, before I have you whipped.'
Longinus' jaw clenched. Few people would dare speak to a senior officer in such a manner. 'You are making a big mistake, sir,' he said insolently. The general needed him too much to follow through on the threat. 'Solid lines would be best.'
Crassus glanced at the others. 'Anyone care to agree?'
There was silence. His subordinates had been well picked.
'Consider your career finished,' said Crassus. 'If you survive the battle!'
'See what the Senate says about this back in Rome. They still have some power.' Longinus snorted with contempt and rode away, swallowing his anger. Crassus' arrogance would not stop them smashing the Parthians. He would sort out his problems with the general later. Longinus tried to put the bull's heart, the reversed eagle standard and the black cloak out of his mind.
'What are you all waiting for?' Spittle flew from Crassus' lips. 'Get out of my sight!'
The legates hastened to obey.
There was a battle to win.
Chapter XXIV: Publius and Surena
It took nearly half the afternoon for every legion to reach the plain. The desert horsemen sat in the shimmering haze, waiting patiently. Drums and bells kept up a relentless din. The outlandish sound was mindful of wild animals' roars intermingled with the sound of thunder.
It was terrifying.
Having waited the longest, the mercenaries were worst affected by the melting temperatures. Few had any water left and again men began to collapse from dehydration and heat exhaustion. The stronger soldiers did what they could for their comrades before battle commenced. Bassius stalked up and down, cajoling and threatening by turn. His sheer drive helped rally spirits that had fallen to a new low.
With Crassus' army finally in place, a staccato series of notes sounded from the bucinae. The waiting was over.
'You heard!' screamed the centurions. 'Get into position!'
Following routines that had been practised many times, the legions fanned out across the plain in a massive four-sided formation. Simultaneously each cohort formed into another hollow square, three men deep, forty in length and breadth. A hundred paces separated each from its neighbours in front and behind. Crassus, his officers and two veteran cohorts took their position in the empty middle along with the baggage train while the Gaulish and Iberian cavalry moved to sit on the wings. It was a most unusual formation for the start of a battle.
'What is he doing?' Romulus frowned. It was clear what would happen as soon as the attack began.
'Crassus thinks we might be completely outflanked,' said Brennus. 'This prevents it.'
'But not much else,' added Romulus, imagining how the Parthians would respond.
'He is a fool!' Tarquinius peered round angrily. 'Those archers will simply ride between the cohorts and pick us off with ease.'
It was unsettling that they could all see what would happen but Crassus could not. Any respect for authority Romulus had left was disappearing fast.
The Parthian leader was still in no hurry to attack. He waited until the Roman army had stopped manoeuvring.
At an unseen signal, the drums began pounding a heavy, rhythmic beat, different from before. The bells also changed tempo, their volume making even speech impossible. The noise went on and on, intimidating with its sheer energy. Exhausted by sunstroke and the incredible temperature, the dazed soldiers could only stare at the enemy, unsure what to do.
Suddenly, the clamour stopped.
A large group of horsemen in the Parthian centre separated from the rest. Slowly they moved forward to within a few hundred paces of the Roman front ranks, halting in unison.