Eroton made it to the walls of Hasakah without incident. Titus, Brutus, and the army followed. For the briefest of moments, Eroton allowed himself to hope that his plan had succeeded without unintended consequences. Night was a good cover, after all, so the Sassanids hadn’t spotted them?
That hope was quickly destroyed like a wave devouring a ship. The guards refused to allow them into the city. Eroton could see why they might be suspicious, of course, but they didn’t have time for this. Still, it looked like he was going to have to be the one negotiating with them for passage into a city that was still Eastern Roman. He knew that Hasakah hadn’t fallen, and it wasn’t really under siege. That made the guards’s reluctance weird, but it was possible that they were being cautious.
There was another possibility, of course, but Eroton really didn’t want to consider that. He remembered Siscia, of course, but it hadn’t made him paranoid. Some days, he thought that Galerius was overreacting to Siscia, but he knew where he was coming from. Gold was a very good motivator - to any person.
Wait… gold was a good motivator. It was possible that these guards were being bribed by the Sassanids to not allow them to pass, but that only meant that they were greedy. Eroton could capitalize on that greed. In order to pass, all he needed to do was offer them more gold than whatever the Sassanids had offered them.
Unfortunately, that was far easier said than done. For one thing, Eroton didn’t even know how much the Sassanids were paying these guards - if they even were being bribed. To add to his troubles, he wasn’t in command of the Legio I Armeniaca. The official leader of this legion was dead, and the acting legion was Titus, which meant that Eroton had to find Titus, and he had to do it quickly. If he couldn’t do that… well, it wouldn’t be pretty, to say the least.
All of this ran through his head quickly, and, then, he quickly realized that he had barely a clue where Titus even was. He absolutely didn’t have time for this. They needed to escape, and they needed to do so now. Unfortunately, it seemed as if whoever commanded this Sassanid army was more cunning than they had thought.
Okay, so where might Titus be? Eroton didn’t know the exact spot, but he did know Titus. He should be able to deduce where Titus was at the moment.
Titus was in command, and he wasn’t the type to abandon his comrades. Eroton knew that much. Titus would fight with them, if things came to battle. Still, that wasn’t very helpful as to where he was right now. Still, Titus wouldn’t abandon his army without due cause, and he led from the front. That meant that he had to be somewhere on the front lines. Thankfully, that was where he was at the moment. Of course, that wasn’t actually that helpful.
Still, Eroton had to try. He surveyed the once-scattered remnants of the original Legio I Armeniaca. Many looked starved, and many were covered in blood. Briefly, Eroton felt a surge of anger, but he pushed that down. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. He spotted Titus after some time. That was the good news. The bad news was that Titus was on the other side of the army. Eroton was currently on the edges of the right flank of this makeshift army. Titus was on the edges of the left flank.
Eroton cussed. He could get to Titus, but it wouldn’t be easy. There was technically an army between them, even if it was an army friendly to them. The situation could be worse - the army between them could have been a Sassanid army - but this was still a very bad situation.
Well, he might as well get started on reaching Titus. If he couldn’t do that, then the Legio I Armeniaca was going to be trapped here. They would be easy targets, and everybody here would either be captured or killed. Eroton couldn’t allow that to happen. The night wasn’t eternal, as much as he wished this night, in particular, was.
He moved, and he tried so silently. He trusted the men that he had been with for days and most of the original Legio I Armeniaca, but he knew that some had faltered. They hadn’t abandoned their legion, but they had considered doing so. And spies could be anywhere. This is what he told himself the reason for his attempt at excessive stealth was, but the true reason was to avoid alerting the Sassanids of where he was.
It was quite some time before he had managed to reach the makeshift army’s left flank and even longer before he finally found Titus. Thankfully, Titus spotted him quickly. “Why are you here?” he asked Eroton.
“We have a problem,” Eroton responded. “The guards won’t let us through. I suspect that they’re being bribed by the Sassanids. There isn’t any concrete proof of that, of course, but why else would they not allow us through? It’s possible that they believe us Sassanids, but that is unlikely.”
“Why?” Titus asked. “Why is that so unlikely? We are an army, and we have come from territory that is known to belong to the Sassanids. As much as I hate to say this, as much as I hate to be compared to a Persian, they have every reason to believe us Sassanids.”
“At first,” Eroton began, unsurely. “I thought that as well. As such, I attempted to prove that this was not an army of Sassanids, that we were not an army of Sassanids. They still refused to let us pass. We aren’t allowed to enter the city, and we must do so. As much as I hate to admit it, the guards having been bribed is the best situation for us. If they were not…”.
“What if they were not?” Titus asked. “Why is betrayal due to gold the best situation for us?”
“The alternatives are really bad,” Eroton said plainly. “If they have betrayed us due to gold, we cannot trust them, yes, but we can outbid the Sassanids. If they aren’t letting us in because they believe that we are Sassanids, then it is unlikely that we will be able to convince them otherwise. If they aren’t letting us in, and they haven’t been paid, that means that they have outright us all, and, if we don’t know why, we can’t do anything about it.”
“In short, our situation is really bad,” Titus summed up, blunt as always. “We need to get past, and we won’t be able to pass if the Sassanids aren’t bribing the few people guarding Hasakah’s walls. We must hope that men have given into greed, and, if they have not, then, we are doomed. Why are you telling me this?”
“I don’t have the authority to negotiate with the people guarding this city,” Eroton responded. “I don’t command what little remains of this legion. Of course, the one who officially commands this legion is dead, but you are acting commander. You have the authority to negotiate. I do not.”
“You can’t seriously be thinking about negotiation,” Titus said. “If these so-called guards will not let us through, then we should kill them and force our way into the city. We shouldn’t reward treason.”
“What other choice do we have?” Eroton snapped. “We are using darkness as our cover, and that darkness is not eternal. We’re running out of time, and we cannot get caught.”
“And a battle would be quick,” Titus snapped back. “The night is yet young. We can defeat them and enter the city quickly.”
“We can’t do that undetected,” Eroton replied. “We need to enter Hasakah stealthily, and a battle isn’t stealthy. Any Sassanid soldier who was awake would notice, and it could even wake some of the soldiers in the Sassanid army that are asleep. It’s much too risky, and we can’t take that risk unless we must. Attacking them should be a last resort.”
“Very well, then,” Titus said. “We will attempt negotiations, and a battle will be our backup plan, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I don’t like it, but we do what we must.”
“Amen to that,” Eroton murmured. “Now, come. We have negotiations to conduct, as much as we wish that we didn’t.”
Eroton gets up, and Titus follows. They arrive at the walls of Hasakah, and Titus demands that the guards let them pass. Eroton wonders if Titus simply didn’t believe him, or if he is in denial. It didn’t matter, and the guards still refused.
“Why?” Titus asked. The guards looked confused, but Eroton wondered why he didn’t ask them that himself. He had simply come up with reasons why they might have refused to allow this remnant of a legion to pass. But he hadn’t asked, and that might have been a mistake.
The head guard simply took gold coins out of his pocket. That explained everything. He had been right - they had been bribed. Still, something felt wrong. Even when Odoacer had tried to bribe the entirety of two legions at Siscia (and how it hurt to remember that), there had been honest men - loyal men. It made no sense that all of the men who were guarding Hasakah were disloyal.
Hasakah should have held. Eroton didn’t believe that it had fallen. It wasn’t famous for holding - not famous like some other cities that he had fought at were, but the Sassanids weren’t attacking the city. If they had been, then he could see being barred from Hasakah’s walls, but the Sassanids had been under attack, and they hadn’t attacked before then. They cared nothing for the city.
“How much did they pay you?” Titus asked. “How much did they pay you for your betrayal of your empire? You were entrusted with guarding this city, and, if you were paid to do so, I have no doubt that you would open the gates in a second. Let us pass, or would you have us pay you as well?”
The leader of the guards sputtered at that, and Eroton saw some of the other guards exchange uneasy glances. Oh. That made much more sense. Only a select few of the guards knew of the deception. The rest had probably actually thought that they were Sassanids.
Eroton thought that he might’ve heard a curse from somewhere, but it might’ve been his imagination. The guards agreed to let the legion pass for free, although that was probably because around half of the guards were glaring at their leader.
Unfortunately, the damage was done. The small remnant of the original Legio I Armeniaca began to cross, and Eroton moved to the back of the army. He would guard the army’s back, and he wouldn’t enter Hasakah until the entire legion had crossed.
At first, the crossing occurred without problems. Much of the army had already passed, but Eroton knew that dawn was coming. Once it came, they would lose their cover of darkness. If most of the army had already passed, this shouldn’t have been a problem, but Eroton was worried anyway.
As it turned out, these worries weren’t unfounded. He looked over at the Sassanid camp, and, then, he realized that it looked empty. That realization came too late, however, and he barely had time to shout a warning to the few men who hadn’t crossed into the city.
Few of those men heard him, and even fewer cared. If they had, perhaps things could’ve been different, but Eroton wasn’t about to dwell on what could have been.
The Sassanids had attacked.
They had attacked the back of the remnants of the first Legio I Armeniaca. That had been what Eroton had been attempting to warn his comrades about, but it had been no use. The few that hadn’t crossed were now engaged in a desperate fight for their lives.
Eroton drew his sword and attacked the Sassanids. His blade slashed and stabbed, but he wasn’t Galerius or Demetrius. He killed, but he didn’t kill many people at once. He would be overrun soon, and he knew that.
He muttered a curse. He had suspected the truth about why the guards wouldn’t let him through, but he hadn’t thought about - or he had willfully ignored - what that meant. It meant that the Sassanids had dealt with the guards recently. He couldn’t have known about when they made the deal, but he should have suspected something. He should’ve known that the commander of the Sassanid forces wouldn’t have bribed the men guarding Hasakah without a reason.
It was too late to dwell on such things, though, and such thoughts quickly fled from his mind. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. He had to focus all of his attention on merely staying alive.
Even so, he knew that he would be overrun soon enough. The Sassanid army vastly outnumbered the small number of men who hadn’t managed to cross into Hasakah. They couldn’t hold, but they couldn’t escape, either. If they attempted a retreat, it would have to be into Hasakah, but they had no way of knowing that the Sassanids wouldn’t be able to follow them there. Eroton heavily suspected that they would attempt to do so, at least.
Eroton sighed. He was trapped between an army and a city, a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t allow the Sassanids to enter Hasakah. He had to buy his comrades time. And, with that thought, he shut his eyes, and his blade attacked the Sassanids.
He didn’t believe that he would survive, but he needed to get his former comrades to safety. They had all run headlong into this, but they were only following orders. He shouldn’t fault them for that. He needed to buy them time.
And he did. Almost a hundred Sassanids lay dead from his blade, but he doubted it would be enough. The Sassanid army was large - they could afford losses. The few men of the Legio I Armeniaca who were still stranded outside of Hasakah could not.
All of these thoughts came to him as he had finally been punctured by a blade. It had hit his heart, but it had come close, and Eroton suspected that he wouldn’t survive the night. But, then, this entire plan was always a longshot. He hoped that this had bought his comrades enough time to escape, but he didn’t know that it had. That was the worst thing - the lack of knowledge.
He collapsed after that, and he suspected that he would be a prisoner even if he survived, but, again, he didn’t know. The battle could’ve ended, but he did not dare to hope. After that thought, all he sees is inky blackness.
Then, suddenly, he felt pain. It was pain as he had never before known - excruciating pain - but it was pain. Pain was good. Pain was knowing that he was alive. But where was he?
That thought quickly ended his brief euphoria. Yes, indeed, where was he? Why was he awake? Was he a prisoner? Had he been brought back to the remnants of the legion - the legion that he had almost died to save? That would’ve been the best option, but he was rarely lucky. There was no way that he was that lucky. The Lord wasn’t nearly so kind.
Then, he heard a voice. “He’s still alive,” it said, in what sounded like a tone of disbelief.
That was true enough. He didn’t yet know if death would’ve been kinder. Death would mean an end to his suffering, yes, but it would also mean an abandonment of his post - for the rest of time. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, and, for once, he didn’t want a question that he had thought of answered.
Then, he heard a familiar voice. It was Titus’s, and he could almost weep in relief. He wasn’t a prisoner, any more than he had always been. He suspected that someone had saved him, but he doubted that the danger was past.
And there was that sinking feeling that he had only been saved because he was important, that he was trapped in a gilded cage. He quickly dismissed that thought. If he was trapped in a gilded cage, then he had always been so, and what would freedom even feel like? No. He would continue to serve, as he always had. He would plan, and he would grant the Eastern Roman Empire victory.
“Where are we?” he asked. His words came out raspy, and his throat was raw. His stomach was still in pain.
“Dawn came,” Titus said. “We are in Hasakah proper, and the Sassanids have contented themselves with the deaths of those who weren’t able to cross into the city itself. The guards shut the gates after that, but I noticed a gleam in the eye of the leader of the men guarding Hasakah. I don’t believe that that bodes well.”
Eroton bit back a curse. He knew that at least some of the guards were up to something, but he didn’t know what that was. Also, he thought of why the Sassanids had bribed the guards. He was wounded, and he could do little else. He was so lost in his mind that he barely noticed it when Titus left wherever he was.
What were the Sassanids planning? And did they succeed in what they wanted to do? The majority of the people who had survived the initial separation had survived, yes, but the Sassanids had managed to kill many men. Heck, they even almost managed to kill him. Still, they hadn’t succeeded with that, and everyone with any authority had survived. At first glance, it seemed as if the Sassanids got nothing that they wanted, but first glances could be deceiving.
Really, the only major thing that the Sassanids had achieved that might have majorly benefitted them was the death of Galerius. The Legio I Armeniaca was technically without a commander, but that hadn’t majorly damaged the legion. Was that what the Sassanids wanted? A breakdown in authority? If it was, then they had failed epically.
Still, there were other explanations. The current situation wasn’t really that bad for the Sassanids. It wasn’t great, obviously, but it wasn’t bad. What was the Sassanids’s play here? What were they trying to do? The obvious goal was to destroy the three legions, but the obvious option was rarely correct.
Furthermore, none of the actions of the Sassanid army made any sense if that was their goal. It was still technically possible if the commander of the Sassanids was a total idiot, but Eroton highly doubted that. If the commander was an idiot, then he wouldn’t have survived the initial attack. The army wouldn’t have survived the initial attack.
Again, another reminder to vote in the
Q3 ACAs! Also, this update officially brings our word count to 100,000+ words, but we're far from done. Stay tuned!