The Siege by Nick Brown Page A

Sicilian drew near.
    There were only a few men with mail shirts. Most were well maintained but none matched the quality of Cassius’ own.
    ‘Some of them sold them,’ said Strabo.
    ‘What? To whom?’
    ‘Whoever. Fetches quite a price. Even out here.’
    Given the wage situation, Cassius decided not to make an issue of it. The trio continued on, passing a couple of legionaries equipped with archaic cuirasses composed of large iron plates held together by leather straps. They afforded good protection to the shoulders and chest but were extremely uncomfortable and difficult to maintain.
    ‘Well at least they all have helmets.’
    ‘They do now,’ said Strabo. ‘I found a box full of spares in the barracks.’
    The helmets looked almost new. They were of an older design than Cassius’, one he knew was regarded as superior, and were of bronze construction, topped by a strengthening crosspiece.
    Continuing past Strabo’s section, he turned his attention to the shields. Other than the personalised designs and graffiti, they were similar to his own: an oval, made of wooden planking reinforced with iron bars and covered with leather.
    The next man Cassius passed was young, not much more than twenty. He stood arrow straight, hands clasped together behind him.
    ‘Show me your sword, legionary.’
    ‘Sir.’
    The soldier unsheathed his blade and held it up. Every surface was flawless and Cassius could smell the oil he had used to attain such a fine sheen. The wooden handle was engraved with swirling patterns and embossed with some glittering stone.
    During a rare spare hour during training, Cassius and some of his fellow officer candidates had visited a smithy where swords were constructed. They had watched, fascinated, as an amalgam of narrow iron bars was twisted into a screw, then hammered and folded repeatedly. This formed the core of the blade, to which the two cutting edges were then welded.
    Cassius gave the legionary a nod of approval and moved on to the second line: the fourth and fifth sections. Here, a couple of the older hands were also armed with pila. Based on a wooden or iron shaft up to seven feet long, these heavy javelins varied in design but all were topped by a barbed metal point. Used most effectively at short range, they could wound enemies or puncture shields, weighing them down and rendering them useless. In close-quarter melees, with ranks of men virtually on top of each other, they were ideal for penetrating shield walls or out-reaching shorter weapons.
    Given the poor state of some of the soldiers he had encountered in previous weeks, Cassius was relieved to find that every member of the garrison was fairly well armed and equipped. There were a hundred little things he could have pulled individuals up on – a patch of rust here, a loose strap there – but he had at least the makings of a fighting force. Some specialist archers would have been useful, but if the Syrians could be persuaded to fight too, they might form an effective auxiliary missile unit.
    He came to a stop at the end of the second line.
    ‘Well?’ he said.
    ‘They’ll do,’ answered Strabo.
    ‘My thoughts entirely.’
    Cassius caught Barates’ eye.
    ‘You’d best go and ready the camels. And ask Simo to saddle my horse.’
    The veteran grimaced.
    ‘I’m afraid camels and horses do not always mix, sir. That’s why we’re keeping them at opposite ends of the stables. And the three beasts are more biddable when they are kept together. I’d be happy to escort you out there and complete the first sentry shift myself. Julius can bring you back at your leisure.’
    ‘Very well,’ answered Cassius. It seemed that the remainder of his first day at Alauran would offer up yet another novel experience.
    He and Strabo returned to the flagpole. Turning to face the legionaries, he saw immediately that their goodwill was fading as fast as the light. There were bored, tired expressions all round; it seemed that the modest exertions