Free The Seven Hills by John Maddox Roberts Page B

Mediterranean world.
    "I am Proconsul Titus Norbanus of Rome, and I am the commander of the army you see before you. We intend harm to no one here and wish only to pass through this land. However, as Proconsul of Rome, I must deal directly with your king."
    "You are commander and you come to parley in person? Most irregular."
    "Romans do things differently from most people. Kindly let your king know that I would speak with him. As you see," he waved an arm behind him without looking, "my men are not preparing for battle. They are encamping." The man could not know how incredibly swift the legions were at going from encampment to battle order, and Norbanus had no intention of informing him. Best to lull people into confidence until it was too late.
    The man eyed the Roman army. Men had stacked their shields against their spears, hung their helmets from the shafts. They had their spades and pickaxes out and were digging. Some hauled baskets of earth. They looked more like armored farmers than soldiers.
    "I will go speak to His Majesty. He may summon you to a conference."
    "Roman proconsuls are not summoned by anyone. He can ride out here to speak with me and he will. I will erect a tent on this spot for our meeting."
    The mercenary snorted. "A king does not come from his palace to meet with a foreign general."
    "Your king will. He'll have heard of Rome by now. He'll be eager to meet with me. Go tell him I await him here."
    The Greek rode off. Norbanus sent orders for his praetorium to be brought out and erected. His commanders grumbled that the traditional location for the praetorium was inside the camp, but their general was adamant. They set up the fine tent and before it erected a raised dais and upon it set his curule chair, draped with animal pelts. To either side of the chair were the shrines of his four legions and behind him stood the standard bearers of those legions, their heads and shoulders draped with skins of lion, wolf and bear, the aquilifers holding the four eagles, the signifers of the lesser formations with their animal standards. The approach to the praetorium was flanked on both sides by an honor guard of cavalry, now polished up to their full brilliance.
    On the dais to both sides of him stood his senior commanders and the tribunes and legati in charge of the indi vidual legions and the auxilia. There had been objections to this. Many had pointed out that it was folly to separate the entire senior staff from the legions, leaving them vulnerable to treachery by unknown foreigners. Norbanus had asserted that the cavalry would be adequate to extricate them from any situation likely to arise and that he anticipated not hostility, but a proposal of alliance. His subordinates were unconvinced, but they were Romans and they obeyed.
    When a mounted party approached from the small host opposite them, all but Norbanus assumed that it was but another officer sent to make arrangements for the king's arrival. In the lead was a man on a splendid white horse and behind him rode a half dozen elders and an honor guard of no more than twenty horsemen in Greek gear, one of them bearing a standard tipped by a six-pointed star.
    "How long are they going to keep us waiting?" Cato said. "We are prepared to receive royalty, not some flunky."
    "I think this is the king," Norbanus said. "And I must say that I like his style."
    "It's effective," Niger said grudgingly. "He can't hope to overawe us with a display of military might, so he rides in looking casual and confident." Others nodded and agreed. Every officer there was not only a military professional but a seasoned politician and veteran of the law courts and the voting enclosures. They had been drilled in the rhetorical arts as rigorously as with the sword, and they appreciated a clever, impressive display.
    Head high, as if without a care in the world, the man rode between the guardsmen, who dipped their lances in unison. He nodded graciously to either side in acknowledgment