Marching With Caesar - Civil War (12 page)

Chapter 3- Dyrrhachium

There were three rivers that we had to cross, although once we were past the mountain ranges ringing Oricum, the terrain was almost flat. Unfortunately, along with the offer of a truce, that bastard Rufus also brought a warning to Pompey that we were approaching. Learning that Apollonia was lost, Pompey turned his army to Dyrrhachium, giving orders for a forced march. In his advantage was the fact that they were marching on the Via Egnatia, while we had to cross open ground, thereby taking longer, even when the terrain was flat. The rivers also delayed us, since we had to scout for fords rather than stop long enough to build bridges. That also would have taken too long because of the lack of timber in the area. Consequently, Pompey’s army beat us to Dyrrhachium and we were greeted by the sight of the tail end of his army reaching the walls of the city while all we could do was watch in frustration. The only heartening sight was the obvious disorganization and seeming panic in the movements of Pompey’s army; as we would learn later, the green troops that comprised a large part of his army had taken fright at the sight of us, turning the march to Dyrrhachium into a wholesale flight to the safety of the city. Pompey ordered his army to set up camp outside the walls, while Caesar actually withdrew us some distance away to set up our own camp on the south side of the Apsus River that runs east and west to the sea. Now that the race was over and Pompey had won, Caesar gave orders that we would remain here for the winter and we would be joined by the rest of the army as soon as it was ferried over. To that end, we began building a fortified winter camp. With some of us working on the camp, others went foraging, since we had not brought much in the way of food. The news that we would be spending the winter was met with some grumbling, because this was in direct contradiction to what Caesar had told the army when he asked them to leave their excess baggage. I was not happy because Zeno had been left behind, meaning that all the paperwork fell on my and Scribonius’ shoulders, and one does not realize how much someone else does until they are not around to do it. But we had our orders, and we worked diligently to prepare for a lengthy stay.

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The days passed with no sign of the rest of the army, before Caesar was finally forced to send someone back to Italia to find out what had happened to them. I did not envy their mission, or what it would take to get it done. In order to avoid detection and capture by the Pompeian fleet, the unlucky bastard selected for the job had to cross the rough winter water in as small a vessel as possible. I am sure that is part of the reason that Caesar sent more than one man, spread over a number of days. It was not a suicide mission, but it was as close to one as you could get, and it was one job I was more than happy to have someone else do. As it turned out, it was a smart move since out of the five men Caesar sent, only one returned and the news he brought was about as bad as it could be. The fleet that carried us across the sea had been intercepted by the Pompeian commander of the fleet, a man named Bibulus who was a great hater of Caesar, and a large number of transports were captured. The ships that escaped were now bottled up in Brundisium, and when they made one attempt at crossing, a combination of bad weather and pressure from the Pompeian fleet had forced them to turn back. During that endeavor, one more transport was captured, with all the men onboard executed, Bibulus’ hatred of Caesar and his cause serving as his excuse.

Now Antony was sitting waiting for the winds to turn favorable, or so he claimed, but that did not set well with those of us who were facing a force twice our size. Nevertheless, we had no choice; first the days, then the weeks passed, waiting for Antony to arrive, and just like what happened in Hispania, it proved to be impossible to keep the two armies from fraternizing. The meeting spot was the river, serving as the water source for both armies, with acquaintances once again renewed and kinships rediscovered among the Spaniards of Pompey and Caesar’s Legions. Before long, the highlight of our day would be the gathering of the men down by the river. There was almost a festival atmosphere, with much wine flowing, bones being thrown and money changing hands as the wagering and gaming ran rampant. Of course, such good spirits and amicable exchanges could not go unnoticed by the generals, but while Caesar and Pompey were disposed to let it continue, that motherless cocksucker Labienus would not let it lie.

One day, after a series of speeches by men on both sides about the need for peace, two Tribunes, one from each side, made a mutual agreement to go to the general of the other side to make a plea for a settlement. This was met by much cheering and joy from the men on both sides. I do not know if Labienus was warned about what was happening, or his suspicions were aroused by all the commotion, but he came charging down to the river with a bodyguard and furiously berated the Pompeian troops for showing such faithlessness in their cause. He threatened to kill any man of Caesar’s who set foot on his side of the river, no matter what their mission was, then made an oath to Jupiter Optimus Maximus that the only way to end the war was with Caesar’s head on a spike. He was soundly jeered and in truth, he was lucky that by common consent nobody came to the river fully armed, because he would have looked like a porcupine if we were. That did not stop men from picking up rocks and hurling them at the traitor, forcing him to withdraw, but the Pompeians, with an obvious show of reluctance, left with him. That put an end to the good times down by the river, and in my mind, ruined the last chance of ending the war peacefully.

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Caesar kept up the pressure on Antonius to make the crossing, but the excuses kept coming and finally Caesar resolved to go himself to Antony, disguising himself as a slave and hiring a small fishing boat to make the crossing. His officers argued vehemently with him about the folly of this, but he would not be swayed, and he left the camp one evening in his disguise. I happened to be commanding the guard Cohort that evening, and warned the men to make absolutely no sign that they knew the identity of the roughly-dressed man who rode out of the camp in a wagon sent to fetch firewood. Still, it was hard not to stare at Caesar, and I for one thought his disguise was useless; he did not have the bearing of a slave, no matter how hard he tried. However, I supposed that as long as he was viewed only from a distance, he would escape detection. What was more worrying were the dark clouds towering over the nearby sea, and we clearly saw the flashes of lightning streaking through them, the sky a leaden gray from the rain sweeping down. The evening turned into night, the storm moving onto land, and we were soon soaked by the deluge, the wind whipping my sagum as I walked the palisade checking on the men. It was shortly after dawn that the wagon returned, light enough to see Caesar’s anger and frustration, sitting next to a very nervous driver. We learned that the captain of the fishing boat was a brave soul indeed, because his fear of drowning was greater than his fear of Caesar, and after about two parts of a watch at sea, he insisted that they turn back, claiming that he was not willing to commit suicide for his passenger, no matter who he was. Luckily for him, Caesar did not have the same temperament or cruelty of a man like Labienus, who probably would have had the man scourged or crucified, no matter how sound his judgment. Fortunately, shortly after this, word arrived that Antonius had at last decided that the winds and conditions were favorable and was embarking the rest of the army, with the goal of landing somewhere on the coast to the south of us.

However, the gods were not through tormenting us by switching their favor back and forth between the two sides, meaning that it was now our turn to be the butt of the gods’ joke. To be fair to Antonius, he had his hands full with a raid by a Pompeian named Libo, who rowed right into the harbor at Brundisium to
burn
several transports. Antonius should have been better prepared to handle such a thrust, but Libo was not much better; after Libo’s initial success, Antonius capitalized on his overconfidence. With a force composed of nothing but some rowboats, Antonius managed to lure several of Libo’s larger ships back into the Brundisium harbor, where they were set upon and destroyed. This put the enemy on their heel, and having seized the initiative, Antonius decided to take advantage of the favorable winds that had begun to spring up from the south now that the winter was almost over, launching his ships. He carried the rest of the Spanish Legions, the 7th, 9th, and 11th, along with a green Legion and a force of cavalry. However, yet another fleet of Pompey’s spotted our fleet and gave chase, forcing Antonius to run before the wind, thereby ending up landing far to the north of where he was supposed to be. In fact, he landed at Lissus, many miles north of Pompey’s position, and despite being greeted not as a conqueror but as a savior by the people, we now had the army on the right side of the water, except that it was split in two, with Pompey in between.

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Because Antonius landed closer to Pompey than Caesar, Pompey was the first to learn of the landing, and wasted no time in sounding the assembly. While the sentries on the ramparts of our camp reported the activity, we had no idea why they were on the move until much later, when a courier sent by Antonius finally reached our camp, having to take a circuitous route that swung inland in order to avoid detection by Pompey. Moments after delivering his message, the
bucina
sounded the call for all Centurions to report to the
Praetorium
, where we were informed of Antonius’ landing and given orders to get our respective Cohorts prepared to march the next morning, because the courier had not arrived until close to nightfall and it was too late to march that day. Setting out the next morning, we left five Cohorts of one of the new Legions behind to guard the camp, and it was now a race to see if we could link up with Antonius before Pompey could fall on him, despite Pompey’s significant head start in time and distance. Regardless of Pompey’s advantage, we were Caesar’s men, used to moving quickly and the next morning by dawn we were assembled, ready to march. However, we had the added burden of having to skirt Pompey’s camp, where it appeared he had left at least a full Legion behind, along with a substantial force of auxiliaries. Fortunately, some of the Greeks living in the area that were friendly to us raced ahead of Pompey’s army to warn Antonius, who had built a fortified camp while he waited for us to join him. Pompey did his best to surprise Antonius; for example, when they stopped for the night, Pompey ordered that no fires be lit to avoid detection, but it did not matter, since Antonius would not budge. We put in a hard march, only stopping for less than a watch to rest, so that soon enough Pompey was in the difficult spot; stuck between two armies, forcing him to withdraw to the southeast. He could not make it back to Dyrrhachium because we blocked his way; consequently, he marched his army to where the Via Egnatia forked with the road down to Apollonia, stopping at the town of Asparagium. Strategically, it gave him the ability to use either road to move quickly, thereby blocking us should Caesar decide to swoop south and attempt to take Dyrrhachium, while also keeping an eye on us in the event Caesar had something else in mind. Despite the fact Caesar now had all of his army together, we were still not out of danger, with further events putting us in even more peril.

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Word came that Pompey’s father-in-law, Scipio, was marching to Pompey with the Syrian Legions, choosing to take the long march overland rather than attempt moving his troops by sea and risk losing them to our warships or foul weather. To keep them from joining Pompey, Caesar sent the 11th, 12th, and a force of 500 cavalry to intercept them. Additionally, he sent the 27th into Thessalia because a delegation had come from there, asking Caesar for his protection. Finally, we needed grain and it had to be foraged, prompting Caesar to take five Cohorts from the tribune Acilius, left behind at Oricum. Oricum was also where part of our fleet was now based, and because he was now shorthanded, Acilius took further precautions to safeguard the fleet by sinking a couple of derelicts in the harbor mouth. Although we recognized the need to provide men for the tasks that Caesar had set for them, none of us liked the idea of whittling down the size of the army. As it was, we were essentially stranded in territory that had been Pompeian for many months before we arrived, and despite being greeted like conquering heroes by the people of the towns we had entered so far, none of us put much faith in the steadfast nature of the Greeks. We would not have been a bit surprised if the towns that opened their gates to us just as quickly closed them if they thought that Pompey held the upper hand. What happened at Oricum did not help that feeling, when Pompey’s son Gnaeus in a single raid managed to overcome the obstacles Acilius had put in place, destroying the part of our fleet harbored there. Not content with that, Gnaeus then hurried north to Lissus where Antony's fleet was moored, burning most of the ships there to the waterline. We were well and truly fucked, stuck in Greece even if we wanted to leave and our supply situation just became even more critical now that we had no way of bringing supplies from Italia. I think it was because of these events that Caesar decided to make a move that he hoped would end the war.

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Within a couple of watches of receiving word of the fleet at Lissus being burned, Caesar ordered us on the march, leading us to a spot just on the other side of the Genusis (Seman) River from where Pompey was camped at Asparagium. Caesar was determined to goad Pompey into doing battle, ordering us into battle formation, where we stood for the better part of a day, but Pompey refused to take the bait. That night, Caesar called a conference, announcing that his next move was to march on Dyrrhachium.