Caput XIII
***CXIV***
The phalanx struck the chaos that befell the three cohorts on the far left of the triple ranks. Instead of three independent units with the ability to react to the threat, they had collapsed into a single, unorganized mass. Such a rabble was a perfect target for the pristine discipline of the Ares minded children of Sparta. Clarisse, as her father would expect of her, stood as the first spear of the front rank. She exposed herself and in doing so maintained the place of honor. It was she that led established the cadence for the death that followed.
Push of the shield. Thrust of the dory. Step. Push of the shield. Thrust of the dory. Step. The squelching sound created by the spear plunging deeply into Roman flesh. The three cohorts attempting to hold their advance tried, but their lack of organization gave them little chance. Clarisse found herself stepping over the bodies of those her spear killed. Those near her swore a red glow surrounded her as the spear ended lives. Those the blade did not dispatch, met their end with the buttspike driven through their prone forms. The Spartans took no prisoners as the first three cohorts collapsed into the three following them. As survivors rushed away, harried by the other Greek soldiers, the aquila was entrusted to a young officer. The man looked to his commander, "Get it far away. I will not see it taken from us." The young officer saluted, and he lost sight of the commander as he placed his sword against his breast.
The departure of the eagle did not mark the end of the fighting. The three shattered cohorts fell into rank beside the next three in rank. The three reinforced cohorts, now under direct control of the tribunus militum braced their shields toward the approaching enemies. One faced the lighter infantry facing north while two faced the approaching hoplites. The young tribune commanded as well as he could. He did not possess the experience for such an action, yet he stood his ground.
"Milites Romani sumus. Stabimus terram nostram, sicut decet." The young officer repeated his own words in his head, as he felt his bladder release itself in fear. We are soldiers of Rome. We will stand our ground, as is our duty. His knees shuddered beneath his armor and a scarred optio beside him leaned over.
"Act as you speak and face the ones coming at us, Nerio grants favor upon the valorous."
"Is this our end?" The tribune asked, thinking of the son he had never met. The front ranks were in combat, attempting to force their way through the massed spears of the Greek infantry.
"Gloriosus finis." The tribune nodded and raised his sword as he pressed forward. To a glorious end.
Two hours later, Annabeth walked beside the Daughter of Ares through the carnage. By their count, barely more than fifteen hundred Romans made their way out of the ambush. Blood coated the Spartan woman's arms and torso. The bodies were being moved for disposal. The disparity in Roman to Greek casualties was nearly obscene to Clarisse's mind. She could not deny the other woman's genius. The tactical decisions had been rapidly proven correct.
"This victory gives us time. We will build forces and when Rome returns, we will be ready."
"For Rome or for this Son of Jupiter you go on about?"
***CXV***
The missives arrived two months apart. The first ordered Lucius Cornelius Jason to Salona, the base of the Thirteenth Legion. The second, much to Reyna and Percy's dismay, ordered him to Mediolanum where he would meet with Caesar and Agrippa.
"Must you answer?" Percy affixed the blue paludamentum on his right shoulder. After placing the fibula to hold the azure material in place, he turned to the woman wearing a white stola with a maroon palla overtop her shoulders. Under the short blue cape, his muscle cuirass in the candlelight. The leather and bronze flaps of his belt covered the ends of his short tunic, while caligae, heavy leather sandals covered his feet. His green eyes looked over the woman already showing signs of pregnancy.
"You only know what Rome has made me. What Rome demands of me; I am honor bound to comply."
"Rome? Or Caesar?" It had been an unfortunate realization of Reyna's. That if anything outweighed the Greek commander's commitment to the Republic's growing City of Marble, it was his commitment to Caesar.
"Caesar has been named princeps senatus. He is the first of Rome."
***CXVI***
For all of Lukas' wonderings, this was the longest of his wanderings. The last two months had taken him from the home of Greek democracy to the gold-rich Dalmatian coast. Outside the city of Salona, the camp of Legio XIII Gemina appeared swollen with the survivors of the two destroyed legions. Some of her handiwork, he thought. He was impressed by what she had become. From a scared girl in Athens, to the leader of a rebellion. He continued his path toward the gates of the Roman camp.
"Halt! State your business!" He looked up at the guards upon the wall. Most held pila in their hands, the quartet manning the towers held bows with arrows on the string. The apprehension in their eyes revealed to him they knew of the Greek threat.
"I wish to speak with your commander. I bring information on the Greeks that oppose you." The fear in the sentries' eyes did not go away. Likewise, the gate did not open, and he knew that behind it the minions rushed about to find the correct man to judge the answers he would give. After a wait of fifteen minutes, the gate swung open, and a tall man walked from the gap. His blond hair was close cropped and piercing blue eyes studied Lukas. While his face did not carry scars like Lukas' did, more than one covered his exposed arms.
"I am Tribunus Militum Lucius Cornelius Jason, what information do you provide to us?"
***CXVII***
"We should consolidate our lines, there is no Roman legion closer to us than Salona. We have enough time to build a defense that cannot be overcome."
"I hear your point, brother," Annabeth turned to her sibling, "Yet defense does not win wars. Thermopylae did not win the war and neither did Salamis. Only the offensive, like Plataea, can win a war."
"Or lose one, like the Athenians in Sicily." As was her fashion, when a counter argument that could not be fully countered was spoken, she moved past it.
"With our current might, we can crush what rabble remains in Salona and be free of them." Since the victory outside Megara, the volunteers flocked to them. No longer could demigods alone train the ranks. Officers of every background and blood content rose to meet the challenge. If her math was correct, in less than two months she would be able to call up nearly forty thousand soldiers. The recruits were not just the unskilled looking to learn the way of the spear. Skilled craftsmen, whether armorers or siege engine makers, found employment in the rising movement. Yet Malcolm always thinks too limited. Her mission did not call for just the freedom of Greece, but the punishment of Rome. She had learned early though that such talk was not as popular as the mere overthrow of their masters.
"And who will you fight, sister? The Roman you're convinced you will, despite that he hasn't commanded a fucking thing? You claim they will send the Son of Jupiter, but as successful as you have been, who is to say they will not send Agrippa? Or Valerius who just defeated the Aquitani? Hades, even Caesar himself? Or, maybe just this bastard son of Bassus, who's served beside them all? His legion is unbeaten, I hear."
"Whatever Rome sends, I have a plan." Malcolm studied her coldly.
"I'm glad you are so confident. Some would call it hubris."
"It's only hubris if I fail." A runner rushed in and looked at Annabeth.
"Ma'am, our source in the north says that Lucius Cornelius Jason has arrived at Salona." Annabeth's confident gaze fell to Malcolm. He shook his head in resignation and exited the room.
***CXVIII***
Percy accepted the cup of wine from Caesar's slave. No one spoke while the slave was in the room, despite his nearly twenty years' service to Caesar. Percy had shaved his face and snipped his hair short in the Roman fashion. He knew it would do little good, within a few days the long hair and beard would return. Caesar spoke first.
"The Senate has lost control of their province, and Achaea at that."
"Greeks are never a predictable bunch." Percy deadpanned in response.
"I assume you to be an expert on that?" Agrippa responded with a wry smile. Caesar cut in and in rare form spoke directly to the point.
"Will you march on Greece?"
"I believed that to be why Jason was sent to Salona." Caesar's response was cold.
"A Son of Jupiter is too potentially problematic to receive that level of command."
"And a Son of Poseidon is not?" The room chilled suddenly; Agrippa would have thought it of great portends. If he had not watched Percy's hand flex and what appeared to be every drop of water in the air form into a ball under his hand.
"The Son of Poseidon has proven his loyalty." To whom or what was not stated. Caesar repeated his earlier question. "Will you march on Greece?" Percy could feel both pairs of eyes upon him. He could also hear the Greek lullabies of his youth and see the Gulf of Corinth in his mind. Rolling over those waters was a voice he recognized but could not place.
"Your answer," Agrippa pressed.
"I will march to end the threat to Rome and avenge the shattered legions. Should our presence be enough, so it shall be." Caesar studied him. He drained the cup of wine and walked for the door. He turned back to Percy before his exit.
"They killed your sister."
***CXIX***
The winds above Mediolanum howled as a storm moved in from the sea. Great waves crashed against the port and quays. A sheet of rain, so thick it appeared solid, descended from the heavens in a volume unexperienced by any living within the city. For thirty minutes, every voice in the city cried out to the gods. Save three.
Agrippa and Caesar stared wide eyed at the normally collected Son of the Sea God. For the first time, they witnessed the extent of his power. The man was the son of a god, yet did not act on it. The news that his sister, the remaining spot of happiness in human parents' life and only a recent part of his, was dead because of the Greek rebels produced a visceral response. It pained Agrippa to see the slight look of satisfaction upon Caesar's face. Just as rapidly as the storm coalesced and struck Mediolanum, it vanished.
"They killed her?"
"There was a coordinated attack on our financial houses throughout the province. In that attack, your sister was found dead in the Corinth magistrate's building. She had been there alone. A street beggar watched three men depart the building and the next morning she was found." Octavian, true to his form, did not elaborate more upon the three men or Percy's sister, allowing the Greek's mind to enter dark places. Agrippa took over the narrative.
"Less than a month later they possess a force capable of wiping out half of the Second and the Tenth shortly thereafter. Armies don't appear without money, they now had it." Percy was quiet a few moments.
"I assume you got the response you wanted from me?" The two older men froze. "It is fortunate for you that the sea's anger is not easily contained." He looked directly at Caesar, "Am I to assume, ending the threat is not enough for you, Augustus?"
"I want them punished, Perseus. If they are allowed to go unchecked, then this will occur at a greater frequency than the Gallic barbarians; because these Graecus fuckers are seemingly better organized."
"And to punish Graecus fuckers, you order you own to do it?" Agrippa had never seen Percy stand up to Caesar as he was now. It appeared to have nothing to do with the differences in authority, only to force Caesar to state his exact orders.
"I would prefer to say, I unleash one of my most capable commanders against the enemies of Rome."
"It does sound better than I ordered the Son of the Sea God to wipe them out!" For all of Caesar's power in Rome, Agrippa had never seen him refuse to meet someone's eyes. But then again, not everyone's father ruled the seas. There was a fire in Percy's eyes with an intensity Agrippa had never seen. When Percy spoke again it was more calmly. "I will destroy their capacity to wage war against Rome, it will be up to them how far I must go to do this. If they force my hand, and I must wage a total war against them, that will be my Rubicon to cross when I reach it. I will also find who killed my sister and they will learn how it feels to lose family."
"Then we're concluded, Agrippa will speak to you about the forces necessary." Caesar departed quickly, both Percy and Agrippa knew it was because of Percy's outburst and the nearly physical waves of anger emitting from him. Agrippa reached out and refilled Percy's wine.
"I've never seen that side of you."
"All of that is from my father. My mother could get angry, but never to the levels of my father."
"Have you ever met him?"
"Once, in Rome. He appeared as Neptune, in your domus actually."
"What did he say to you?" Agrippa's excitement was nearly amusing to Percy.
"I'm fairly certain he was encouraging me to fuck someone." Agrippa nearly spit out his wine.
"What?"
"In fact, I interpreted as he was interested, but would step aside if I was so inclined."
"Gods," muttered Agrippa.
"Yes, they are incorrigible." Percy changed the subject. "If you wanted me to go to war, you should have allowed me to bring the Sixteenth from Gallia Aquitania."
"They are needed there."
"What would you have me fight with? Remnants of the Tenth and the dishonored Legio II?"
"That is what your former deputy is doing in Salona. Remanning and refitting the destroyed legions. Our latest reports show at least twelve thousand soldiers following, what they describe as, Athena's Boon or Heir or something. Your barbarian tongue is not my best." Agrippa said with a smirk.
"Then two demoralized legions are not nearly enough."
"Rebuilt that would be ten thousand foot."
"I need more than foot, Agrippa. You know how I fight. I also need legions fighting to keep honor, not regain it. Those searching for honor always find a way to fuck you. And you know as well as I, what the reports show is half of what there is, and half of what they say is shit."
"What would you have?"
"Quattuor legiones, quattuor cohortes quingenaria sagittarii, duo alae equites Maurorum, et septem alae milliaria Germanici." Agrippa let out a long breath. The Greek asked for what he would have. Four legions with five thousand infantry and three hundred equites each, four auxiliary cohorts of archers numbering nearly two thousand, two Moorish cavalry units to give him a thousand mounted javelin throwers, and, perhaps most fitting for Perseus and his background, seven cohorts of Germanic cavalry – over five thousand of the elite fighters. All together it would give him an army of over twenty-nine thousand soldiers, by far the largest army not commanded by someone named Pompeius, Caesar, Antony, or himself since Bassus' campaign against the Parthians. He smiled slightly. "Do you think me crazy?" Percy asked testily.
"No, but I had permission to give you nearly half that again." He again refilled Percy's glass of wine. "You will have Legio XIII Gemina as well as the newly formed legion outside the city walls, Legio XXI. All of them were recruited from Sicilia and southern Italia. Some probably fought for Pompeius, at least the older ones, so they're not all raw have no name, so it will be yours to bestow. Should they earn it, the Tenth can again be Equestris and should the second reclaim its honor, they too shall be yours to name, Legio II Julii is no more. I will begin the movements of auxiliaries as soon as practicable."
"The longer we wait the more it will grow."
"Yes, but the Second rushed into war and look what befell them."
"I am not so foolish."
"Even in anger?" Percy admitted it was a valid question.
"In anger, I become wrathful, not foolish."
***CXX***
Annabeth knelt before the statue. Its peak, the tip of a golden dory, rested just four feet from the roof of forty-two feet. Constructed nder the direction of Phidias, Pericles and the great Delian League had funded the massive build. The temple itself was two hundred and twenty-eight feet long and one hundred and one feet wide. The pedestal of the chryselephantine sculpture measured twenty-six by thirteen feet and rose four and half. The story of Pandora wove its tale in the ornate stonework facing Annabeth.
Atop the pedestal, her mother wore a long flowing peplos, open upon her right shoulder. It was partially covered by the ivory gorgoneion, revealing an attempt to represent the Gorgons. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, while atop her head it was covered by an Attic helmet with gryphons upon the paragnathides to protect her cheeks. Winged horses flanked the sphinx as crests upon the helmet. Over six feet of the goddess Nike rested in her right hand. The sacred snake guarded her feet.
The contents of her left side spoke most to Annabeth. The dory, all thirty-three and a half feet of it, represented the violence that must be wrought to free Greece. The shield, sixteen feet in diameter, represented the duty to protect Greece. From Medusa's gaze to freeze her enemies, to the Theseus' defense of the Acropolis against the Amazons, once Greece was free it must be held onto. Just as in the days of Pericles, the Athena Parthenos, Athena the Virgin, represented Greek civilizations victory over the chaos and barbarism surrounding it.
The final piece of the great shrine to Pallas Athena sat in an amphora. To counter its weight, the amphora had been filled with the gift of Poseidon. Water from the well of Erechthean, enclosed by the Temple of Erechtheus, kept the aquila of the Second Legion upright as an offering to the city's patron goddess.
"Mother, I will need your guidance in what is to come. The campaign season too swiftly comes to an end, I must prepare my army over the winter and prepare to march north. Your guidance to find spies and informers has been a powerful weapon." She gazed up at the statue, its agate eyes staring unblinkingly to the east. The gilding so callously removed by Lachares was being replaced finally, returning the masterful work to its true glory. "I will not fail you," she whispered and slowly walked from the naos in Greek or cella in Latin, exiting the inner chamber. The pronaos, or portico, was in deep shadow with the sun low in the western sky. Below her, however, the city seemed alive artisans repaired damage to temples, while engineers prepared defensive fortifications. New life had entered Athens fueled by the hope of a future of freedom.
***CXXI***
Jason had learned four things about the Greek, Lukas. One, he enjoyed talking. Two, he enjoyed wine. Three, he enjoyed the company of women. Four, when the first three combined he said more than he said just to him. Due to those, the Illyrian slave and prostitute giving him a report had much to say.
"Athens is giving them a home?"
"Yes, Tribune. Though many of the Greek cities have committed to them. Thebes, Megara, Sparta, much of the Peloponnese."
"Corinth?"
"No, Corinth is a lone standout. The Greeks will not move against it however, that would show division they do not wish to."
"What of the islands?" In the days of the Delian League, the islands of the Aegean had provided much of Athens' military material.
"He does not say." Jason considered the response for a moment, before considering it adequate.
"Their leader?"
"He merely calls her Athena's Heir. That like the goddess she is a brilliant strategist and wise but can become clouded by her pride." Jason nodded and turned around. He pulled two small bags of coins from a locked chest.
"Take this one to your master," he said, handing over the heavier of the two. "This is for you." She took the second and began to loosen the band holding her chiton in place. One shoulder fell enough to reveal a well-developed breast. "No," Jason interrupted her, "I have no need of such entertainment tonight." The slave quickly refastened the garment and with a bow, exited. He stroked his chin for a second, thinking about the information the girl kept providing. His growing fear was that the soft approach would quickly cease in its effectiveness.
That would be a problem for his cousin. The scroll from the east preceded the arrival of the newly named Praefectus Achaea. The decree of Caesar separated Greece, Thessaly, and Epirus from the Senatorial province of Macedonia due to "the inadequacies of Senate control over the land." For at least the foreseeable future, the lands south of Thermopylae and the Ceraunian Mountains were the dominion of Perseus. Marcus Licinius Crassus, Governor of Macedonia, had not been blamed for the losses in the south, as he had been on campaign for Caesar against the lands of the Danube. He was, expectedly, angry at the loss of personal income. The blame Caesar placed solely on the Senate, who despite a few senators and one particularly anti-Perseus augur claiming that Caesar's appointment had been in command, he claimed had sown the seeds of this insurrection through the inaction of their appointments in the preceding decades. Again, he ignored that one of those men was Titus Statilius Taurus, his ground commander at Actium and recently elected Consul.
Bassus' heir would be there within a week, bringing with him the new Twenty-first Legion and several thousand replacements from Italia to replace the still understrength Tenth and Second. No arrivals had been determined for the nearly ten thousand auxiliaries that would be accompanying them, but Jason suspected they would be assembled by the month dedicated to Mars of the next year, giving them a full campaigning season.
He turned to the stack of parchment upon his desk. Despite maintaining his rank as tribunus militum for the large garrison. Marcus Primus served as the legate for Legio XIII Gemina, the Tenth had no leader, and the Second's should have killed himself to save himself the dishonor of losing his eagle, Gaius Tremellius Scrofa son of the one time praetor. He too would be Percy's to deal with upon arrival. Jason had him secured in one of the pits used for prisoners within the camp.
***CXXII***
Percy leaned over the map of Greece, a hand drawn line clearly delineating the newest province of Achaea. The presence on the far end of his tent refused to speak and it was grating on him. He had been force marching his new legion and the replacements for the damaged ones for three days. If anything, he had learned despite their seeming inexperience, the new legion was hungry for a fight.
"Are you going to bloody say anything or not?" he eventually snapped toward the shadows. The figure that emerged was similar to the one that had first approached him in the domus of Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa. He was wilder however, with a beard and long hair like his own. Golden bands held it in place while he used a trident to pull himself to his feet. He was taller than Percy and more broad across the chest and shoulders. The scent of sea air drifted from his position. "Father."
"I never thought I would the day that one of my sons would lead a war against the Hellenes."
"Rome, whether through the legion or the city itself has been home for sixteen years. The woman I love, and my children are of Rome. Rome granted my family a place in society. You are of Greece, father, or rather, Greece is of you. I have become of Rome."
"You have become a man, Perseus. I will fault no man for standing by what he believes." The god moved forward, and his hand settled upon his son's shoulder. "They will call on me, your enemy, for as this rebellion grows stronger the ability to control our being as Greek or Roman weakens. They will entreat me to protect them from the storm that you bring down upon them. The sea, however, does not turn against its own." With that, the being began to melt into shadow.
"Father, are they like me?"
"Some," Poseidon answered simply.
"Then I hunt my own kind, as they killed my own blood?"
"Families are messy things, Perseus." He melted further into the shadows. As he vanished his hand rubbed against his forehead as if he was in pain, which, as a god, Percy did not believe possible. "The sea does not turn against its own," rolled out of the shadow as a wave rolled onto the shore.
***CXXIII***
Lukas watched as the camp readied itself for the arrival of who the rank and file called Bassus, while the officers called him Perseus. A Greek name, he thought and immediately knew this must be the brother of the girl that the thieves killed in Corinth. He moved forward and attempted to catch a glimpse of the man through the ranks of the assembled legionnaires.
The encampment sat on a ridge overlooking the approaching road. Gods help them, he thought as the column began to appear from around a curve in the road shielded by woods. He estimated ten thousand soldiers already lived within the camp. Within minutes, he estimated at least that number marched along the road led by a man in dark armor with a blue cloak. He was tall and clear respected by those around him as even the Son of Jupiter saluted at his arrival. Interesting, interesting, Lukas thought, and he returned to the tent in which an Illyrian slave waited for his arrival nude and with a poured wine.
***CXXIV***
"Tell me of this Greek turncoat," Percy ordered as Jason handed him a cup of wine.
"He seems to know the leadership of the rebellion, though he has been hesitant to name names. He refers to the leader as Athena's Heir. Must be some sort of title or something. Athena would be a goddess to resist Roman control."
"Or it's her daughter." Percy responded and Jason looked at him quizzically. "My father visited me, he said that some of them are like me. Which also means like you. But children of the gods."
"My understanding is their Athena focused more on warfare, than our Minerva."
"Their, or rather mine, was also more proud."
"That could be useful."
"It is." Percy said simply and took a long drink of wine. He yawned heavily.
"A long trip, brother?"
"Aye," he massaged the bridge of his nose. "Give the new arrivals a week to recover, then we begin to integrate them into the Tenth and Second. Marcus Primus will take Legio X, I am giving you the Thirteenth."
"Uh, I, I am honored." Jason stammering response made Percy smile.
"You have earned it." He rubbed his face to fight off the exhaustion. "The Second is a different matter, their legate still lives, though he should not have. Hard lessons must be taught."
"When do we march south?"
"I don't expect the entirety of the cavalry until Martius at least. We march in Aprilis."
"That gives us five months to train and plan." It was early October, far too late for either force to campaign.
"It also gives them five months to study us. If we have informers, so do they. Look at what happened to the Second, they knew they were coming." Jason nodded in agreement, getting amusement from Percy's attempts at fighting off sleep. He asked one final question, a test of his cousin.
"Do you want one of the Illyrian girls to warm your bed? There are some higher quality ones we reserved for officers."
"I think the mother of my children would murder me for that." Jason smiled.
"Just testing you." Percy's eyes closed and his head moved in a slight snort of laughter. When they opened, he was serious again.
"Tomorrow, bring Scrofa to me and assemble the remains of the Second."
"It will be done," Jason responded before realizing the Son of the Sea was already asleep.
***CXXV***
Jason watched as Percy cast an eye over the survivors of the Second Legion. The disgraced legate, Gaius Tremellius Scrofa, stood bowed over beside the tall Son of Poseidon. The two thousand two hundred and twelve survivors of the once named Legio II Julii faced them. They expected punishment, after all, they had failed Rome. But they did not know Publius Ventidius Bassus Perseanus. At his next words, Jason was not sure he did either.
"Bring every tenth man forward." Decimatio had not been practiced since Marcus Crassus had done so during the rebellion of Spartacus. It was, of course, still a legal means by which to punish a unit, but to kill two hundred and ten men was not done.
"Percy," he whispered. Percy held out his hand.
"I am the Prefect of Achaea," his words seemed magnified, and Jason realized this could have only come from his godly gifts. "Here I am Rome, and my hand is Caesar's. And it is in that power, I declare Gaius Tremellius Scrofa, proscriptus." Despite his weakness, the man beside them began to move and opened his mouth to speak. With a motion, two of the Germanic cavalrymen gripped him tightly. "Each of you, the men he failed," Percy's hand swept the two hundred and ten men, "will deliver a blow with the flagrum. His life or death will be in the hands of the gods."
Jason could not speak as the Germans secured the man proscribed, or condemned to death or banishment, to a wooden post. Two hundred and ten blows with the scourge would be his price to live in exile. But it was a message to everyone there, Jason realized, Percy would demand the utmost from his army. Class or rank would not protect here. For five minutes before, this man had been the son of one-time praetor and of the Senatorial class. Now, he would soon be dead.
A/N: To make clear the timeline. We end this chapter in October of Year 27 BC/BCE. Martius and Aprilis are, rather clearly, March and April and refer to the spring of 26 BC/BCE. Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus was named Augustus in 27 BC/BCE and according to most that is the formation of the Empire. I will also say, yes, Caesar has both hidden Bassus' original wish to adopt Percy as well as now used it for his own purposes.
We are now reaching the crux of this story, though not the end by any stretch. We have technically witnessed all thirty-four years of Percy's life, though most of the narrative has focused on him from eighteen and a young cavalryman at Philippi to his time now as the Prefect of Achaea, a position that did not exist in history to my knowledge but is drawn from the Prefect of Egypt which answered to Caesar alone.