The Bane of Gods by Alaric Longward

Author:Alaric Longward [Longward, Alaric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hardhill Productions
Published: 2017-10-27T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20 (Artagira, Armenia, August 9th, 3 A.D.)

The king, Ariobarzanes, was humiliated. The people of Artagira were staring down at him from the walls, and despite his royal looks, his noble bearing, the honor of his bloodline, he was a Roman picked foreigner, and related to the old kings only distantly. Far from home, ally to Rome, and in many Armenian minds enemy to Parthia, many people we had met spoke of him with doubt and even suspicion.

And some were, in fact, in an open rebellion.

What had seemed a relatively successful feast with Phraates, had turned out to be a meal of air.

While Phraates denied any of his followers would fight Rome, it was a well-known fact that there were in fact many Parthian soldiers in the city. Phraates claimed them to be men of his enemies.

The legions, upon hearing of the rebellion in many of the cities, had stoically marched across the border, and finally after half a year of stomping down on necks, they proudly took positions in front of the main nest of vipers. The vast city was the Armenian capital, the richest city in the land, and every man stared at the high white and brown walls with a mixture of greed and concern. Gaius was fidgeting and truly worried, and the ten thousand legionnaires, while thus far unopposed, took note of the hundreds of glittering spear points on top of the walls, and the swarming number of enemies on top of squat towers. The walls and the towers would be housing archers and siege engines. Not intimidated by that fact, the siege specialists of the legions were busily readying their gear. Catapults and ballista were being assembled, and some were already finished while wood, hide, ammunitions, and many detailed and impossible to understand special items were being procured from the surrounding countryside, or even crafted. The toil of putting up camps and encircling the city with guards and towers would take most of soldiers’ time for the coming week. Many of the cohorts were not working, but simply looking threatening. All they had to do was preen, posture, and look menacing, and that part was a natural fit for the killers.

It had worked before.

Nations had fallen on their knees for the sight of legions making ready their war-machines, and for the terror of glittering, or grimy for that matter, cohorts marching about.

The auxilia was busy at work as well. They were already riding about the countryside, torching unlucky villages that belonged to the rebels, especially a local noble called Abaddon, but in truth, no estate sympathetic to the new king or Rome would be saved any more than those of his declared enemies. The auxilia riders of Syrians and Gauls would not stop to ask questions before taking slaves and loot.

“How many?” Gaius asked tiredly.

Publius stirred. He had taken on not only the role of rector, but now advisor, and oversaw all the scribes of Gaius. “So far it appears there were some six thousand belligerents in the city, and they were not in a mood to negotiate.

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