Antony’s entourage set sail for Brindisi in mid-June. His wife, Octavia, remained in Athens, as did Livia. It took us the better part of a month to make the journey, but this was only because of security concerns. Antony required intelligence on the location of Caesar’s legions in Italy, and he intended to bring in at least a legion of his own men. When all was set, he advanced.
The site of Misenium satisfied both sides, or perhaps I should say all three parties. Situated on the northern horn of the Bay of Naples, the land reaches out toward two rather significant islands, Procida and Ischia. These islands allowed Pompey to bring a small fleet safely to anchor.
The Triumvirs had two legions camped opposite Capri, with elements of these extending all the way to the Italian shore opposite Sicily. One of these legions answered to Antony, the other to Caesar. The fear was that Pompey’s legions might attempt to cross to Italy and march north against Misenium; alternatively, he might send a fleet of ships to attack Misenium.
Sextus Pompey’s essential condition for his personal security was that he always remained on water. Caesar and Antony, in contrast, insisted they never leave land. Nero took credit for the ingenious solution, but it was certainly the brainstorm of a cleverer fellow than he, probably one of the Greek slaves serving him. Two floating islands were constructed off shore. One linked back to the harbour and dry land with a floating pier; the other allowed Pompey’s flagship to dock against it. Between these two islands was a channel some ninety feet in width. At this distance the participants might shout to one another quite easily.
Of course no artillery pieces were allowed within range of these wooden islands; Pompey’s flagship was stripped of catapults and each side submitted to a daily search of their party members for any weapon that might launch some kind of aerial attack: slings, bows, or even hand-held ballistae. Pompey, Antony and Caesar were all permitted guards who carried shields and swords. Because of these provisions, I remained close to Antony during the negotiations.
On the evening following the first exchange of offers Antony was justifiably frustrated. Caesar had spent the day refusing any compromise. He insisted on crucifying every slave who had left Italy to join Pompey in Sicily; these men had joined Pompey’s army either as marines or legionaries and Pompey could not afford to betray them without risking a general uprising.
Caesar created even more discouragement when he refused to agree to return property to anyone who had lost it through the proscriptions. Antony knew Caesar was simply posturing. In his secret negotiations, Caesar had been prepared to accept all of Pompey’s conditions. Of course Antony was not especially surprised Caesar refused to cooperate; he rather expected it. What frustrated him was his inability to find a way to stop the posturing. Put simply, Caesar did not seem to understand the risk of failure.
If the negotiations broke down, Rome would remain hostage to Pompey’s naval blockade and Syria would languish in Parthian rule indefinitely. As for the chances of the Triumvirs surviving for another year, Antony gave it low odds. What Caesar expected to gain by sabotaging the talks, Antony simply could not fathom.
On the second day, Caesar continued quarrelling without changing any position. He pretended not to understand Pompey’s demands. When Pompey promised him riots in Rome if his blockade continued, Caesar answered that the Roman people were both resilient and resourceful.
What that meant no one knew. Pompey was clearly as frustrated as Antony. At one point he complained that the Triumvirs had asked for a meeting but were now unwilling to grant any of Pompey’s conditions for a treaty. What was the point of going to all this trouble if the Triumvirs were not prepared to offer any sort of compromise? Caesar admitted he thought the negotiations were a bad idea. ‘I went along with Antony’s plan in the hope that you might see there was no hope but unconditional surrender.’
That finished the day with an angry verbal assault from Pompey. It also left most people convinced nothing was going to happen with these talks. Having very little hope of a solution, Antony nevertheless asked for a meeting with Caesar before their dinner hour, which they intended to have in separate houses. The meeting required some security arrangements, but Caesar at least cooperated in these matters.
When they finally came together, Antony bluntly accused Caesar of negotiating with Pompey behind his back. Caesar denied it quite credibly, but of course he had known the charge was coming sooner or later. ‘Play innocent if you like,’ Antony said angrily, ‘but we both know Rome is starving, and things will only get worse from here.’
‘Rome is not starving, Antony. Why do you insist on being so dramatic?’
‘Give Pompey’s runaway slaves their freedom. We can settle nothing else with him if we do not agree to that. He is not going to turn them over for execution because he can’t. They will destroy him if he even considers it. And mind you, if he does not end his blockade of Rome this summer, you will see riots that will make your troubles on the Camp of Mars last winter seem like a stroll in a garden!’
‘If we permit slaves to hope,’ Caesar answered, ‘we shall soon have another Spartacus to deal with.’
‘You don’t seem to understand the situation in the least. Someone else will deal with Rome’s new Spartacus. You and I will be dead.’
‘My father never negotiated with Pompey Magnus, Antony. I don’t see why I should do so with the man’s son.’
‘Are you mad? Caesar spent most of his life negotiating with the old bore!’
‘But in the end it came down to a fight.’
‘In the end. After thirty years! You cannot make up history because you had rather pout than do something of real value.’
‘Are you finished?’ Caesar asked.
At his evening meal Antony listened to two generals on his staff as they discussed the many negotiations between the divine Julius Caesar and Pompey Magnus. It was not brilliant conversation but somewhat interesting. Suddenly Antony broke in angrily. ‘He really is a stupid boy! The little twit. Stupid and stubborn and dangerous. Oh, I know he doesn’t look dangerous. He looks like a flower that’s about to wilt. But he is. He is! He wants to drive me off in a fury so he can give Pompey all he demands of us and then tell Rome he made the treaty at Misenium.’
‘Then let him. Peace is what we need.’
‘If I let him strike a private deal with Pompey, I will never be able to sail to Syria. I would not dare, lest they join forces against me.’
‘Strike the deal with Pompey yourself,’ one of his legates offered.
‘At the cost of a war.’
‘It is Caesar who wants war. Give it to him if he insists.’
To this Antony had no answer. I think every man in that room expected war between the Triumvirs. Antony was considering it, of course, but he did not want it. He wanted an end to civil war. His entire adult life had seen infighting and fratricide at a cost that had brought Rome close to economic ruin. Worse still, the constant infighting had finally opened the way for the Parthians to steal the finest real estate in the empire, Anthony’s real estate no less. More fighting in Italy meant the entire orient would eventually collapse.
Before the meal had finished I saw one of my officers reacting to some matter beyond the open doors of the triclinium. A scroll of some kind passed to the guard, who sent one of the servants with it to me. I signalled to one of my men and he came to replace my position behind Antony. The men Antony dined with were old friends, but so were the fellows who had knifed the divine Julius Caesar.
‘For Mark Antony, Dominus,’ the slave whispered.
I read a rather lengthy correspondence quickly and then took it to Antony at once. Antony was in no mood to read the usual reports, though he was curious at my willingness to interrupt his dinner. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Ventidius has killed Labienus, Imperator,’ I answered. ‘The Parthians are in full retreat from Syria.’
‘Ventidius had orders to sit tight!’
‘Imperator,’ I repeated, ‘your legions have recovered Syria.’
I knew Maecenas was at Caesar’s residence and summoned him with a note declaring I had information I thought he would very much like to share with Caesar. I thought Maecenas might refuse me or send a man to take the message, but within a quarter of an hour of receiving my note Maecenas found me in the shadows where I waited for him. ‘Dellius!’ he said, signalling his bodyguards to leave us alone, ‘What is so urgent it cannot wait until tomorrow? And why are we talking in the shadows instead of inside?’
‘Quintus Labienus is dead, sir. Antony’s troops are presently driving the last of his army from Syria.’
‘That is splendid news,’ Maecenas sounded cheerful, but I knew he must be calculating the considerable damage this caused Caesar.
‘Splendid for Antony,’ I said. ‘What victory can Caesar boast?’
‘Agrippa is fighting in Gaul. We have very good reports of his success.’
‘Maecenas, your man needs victory at once. Without it, Antony and Pompey will sail away. With the East suddenly secure, Antony has a great many legions available to turn against Italy. If he tempts Pompey with a full pardon and even gold, there is no reason for them not to form an alliance against Caesar.’
‘He rejected Pompey once.’
‘No longer. I heard the matter being discussed just now. Antony resists it because he does not want war. But if Caesar will not cooperate, Antony must take the opportunity Fortune deals him.’
Next morning, while they waited for Pompey’s flagship to dock, Caesar told Antony he had decided to agree to the emancipation of all runaway slaves presently under Pompey’s protection. He also proposed to Antony that they return fifty percent of the value of the property families had lost due to the proscriptions.
Antony countered this with a suggestion that they require the new property owners to donate twenty-five percent of the property value to the former owner. The payment might be in cash or land and would be based on current value, not the price paid at the time of the auction. In this way, he said, the Triumvirs could retain some measure of control over each exchange. Some men might receive a token repayment of their losses; others would enjoy significant returns. It went without Antony saying it that the adjudicated amount could be affected by bribes, which of course might accrue to the Triumvirs.
Venal though he was, Caesar was not an especially clever lad and had to retreat with Maecenas to discuss Antony’s proposal. Once Maecenas had made it clear to him that they could actually make money by returning property to the men they had robbed, Caesar returned and declared that Antony’s proposal was quite fair to all concerned.
These matters settled, the two men waited in silence until Pompey had docked on his island. Once both parties had submitted to a search for missiles, Antony and Caesar approached their island. Pompey and his guard in the meantime disembarked to their own. Antony let Caesar conduct the negotiations for them, though Caesar’s shrill voice was easily carried off by the wind. Pompey took the new proffers and retreated to his ship to discuss the terms with his staff. An hour later, Pompey returned to his island and asked Nero’s permission to send a slave across the channel.
Nero received permission with a nod of the head from Antony and Caesar and the boy swam to our island, holding a leather tube above the water’s surface. This he eventually handed to Nero’s slave and then returned to Pompey. I did not see the document but eventually learned its contents.
Pompey asked for an appointment in the college of augurs. This was an honorific that recognised Pompey as one of the city’s most prominent men; he was more than a decade away from eligibility for such a position, but of course by then every law concerning the minimum age for a public office holder was thoroughly bent. Pompey also wanted the right to be elected consul in absentia; this was more than a decade sooner than the law permitted, but no one had cared to quibble about such matters when Caesar won his consulship at the age of twenty; so Pompey was confident he would get what he asked for.
Lest anyone imagine Pompey actually considered returning to Rome, Pompey also required a five-year appointment as the Governor of Sicily, Sardinia and the Peloponnese of southern Greece; this amounted to an expansion of his already potent thalassocracy and made Pompey in effect, if not by title, the third Triumvir.
In exchange for these concessions he did not turn over any of his ships. Instead, he simply promised to cease with his blockade. Finally Pompey insisted on amnesty for all the men in Sicily, not just the runaway slaves. This last point was one too many. Caesar agreed to pardon any man so long as he did not have the blood of the divine Julius Caesar on his hands. Amnesty for the assassins, however, was out of the question.
An hour passed, more for show than debate, and Pompey returned, calling across the water that he accepted the accords.
Over the next three nights Antony and Caesar boarded Pompey’s flagship; then Pompey came into the city. There was soon the promise of marriage between certain infant relatives. This is the sort of union that inevitably accompanies new alliances.
Everyone carried daggers – concealed politely – but, for all that, the three men were unusually cheerful. Antony had thwarted a conspiracy; Pompey had at last inherited some piece of his father’s fortune and good name; and Caesar had finished taking his revenge on the assassins. On the second night of their party, Antony announced his victory in Syria. The rebel Quintus Labienus was dead; Syria was again under Roman authority.
At this news, finally made public, Maecenas glanced up at me from his table as he lay beside Caesar. I stood at attention against the wall and refused to meet his gaze, however. That was all Maecenas needed in order to believe I had betrayed Antony. I cannot say if he ever considered the possibility that Antony had sent me on my errand, but this I do know: for the remainder of his life Maecenas always treated me as a close friend.
A day or so later Pompey returned to Sicily, where he proceeded to execute the last of those senators who had murdered the divine Julius Caesar. As for our new Caesar, once he had left the heads of the assassins in the Forum for all to see, he retreated to Gaul, where he might impress Rome with glowing reports of his martial accomplishments. There was, I’m sure, a quite general relief all around when he did not attempt to write a book about it, as his adoptive father had done.
For Antony, the war he had anticipated fighting was now a mopping up operation, something best left to his subordinates. The last thing he needed was to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory – no, he must remain at his court in Athens and let Ventidius recover Syria with the men he presently commanded. Should the Parthians mount a counterattack Antony might then answer with his legions, but only after Ventidius had got in over his head, as he well deserved to do.
Before he departed for Athens, Antony said to me, ‘I suppose you might as well join Herod in Judaea, Dellius – if you still desire it.’
I arranged for my secretary to take Hannibal to the farm of Titus Flavius Petro, a centurion who was then retiring from Antony’s Guard. Petro’s family possessed no property on the morning Julius Caesar had crossed the Rubicon. Ten years later, having fought for Pompey, then Caesar and finally Antony, Petro had saved up enough fortune to buy a farm at auction. His farm manager was presently breeding horses and had acquired a string of broodmares that he typically bred to three or four of the region’s better stallions. With Hannibal at stud we intended to establish a partnership that might earn us both a handsome income.
We had talked about such a venture at some length, but I had no intention of retiring and I was also reluctant to lose Hannibal before a long and dangerous campaign in Syria. Suddenly, however, the idea was quite appealing. I hadn’t time to waste but needed to use relays of horses to get to Brindisi as quickly as possible. So I gave Hannibal an early retirement, while still retaining complete ownership. I then rode to Brindisi at full gallop, changing horses at every post station along the Appian Way. I left an hour before dawn and arrived at midnight. I was at sea next morning.
Once I had crossed to the Peloponnese I bought a horse, which I rode to Sparta. Within a matter of days I had gathered three hundred cavalrymen, all of whom had been previously committed to Antony’s service. In Athens, with a letter from Antony authorising it, I spent a fortnight recruiting an additional thousand auxiliary infantry. While I was doing this, I stayed at Antony’s palace. I had hoped to see Livia before departing for Judaea, but she had sailed for Brindisi at the news of the Treaty of Misenium.
In fact, I believe she was sailing around the Peloponnese while I was on my way to Athens. At any rate, I missed her by only a matter of days and had not even a note from her when I arrived. I was naturally frustrated but, to be honest, I was confident of her affection. Nor had I any time to worry about Nero giving his permission for her to divorce him. That is not entirely true, come to think of it: there were nights when I awakened in a sweat, imagining Nero had refused to release her from her vows. Of course I would then settle my nerves at once: Livia could get that old boy to do anything she asked; she was going to be my wife and I was a fool to doubt it.
Once Antony arrived in Athens, he added three cohorts of legionary infantry under the command of one of the legion’s prefects, an eques named Poppaedius Silo. Silo had been a client of Livia’s father and, though he had drifted by necessity to Antony for patronage, still had an amicable relationship with the Claudii. Antony’s appointment of this fellow was for the sake of his debt to Nero.
Silo was nearly a decade older than I and doubtlessly resented being my subordinate. Still, as long as we stood in Antony’s company, he refused to show his colours. As soon as our fleet set sail, Silo approached me. We were in fact still in the harbour. I was looking at golden Athens on its famous hill when I felt his presence. ‘I’m taking the legionary and auxiliary cohorts to Ventidius,’ he said. ‘You can do as you like with the Spartan cavalry, but the rest are mine.’
‘Those are not the orders Antony gave,’ I answered.
‘Of course they are. I was standing right next to you when he gave them.’
I considered taking Silo into custody, but the legionaries were loyal to him. As for my Spartan recruits, they were all still quite new to military protocols. This was not a game I could win. So I acquiesced.
We sailed as a fleet as far as Cyprus. Once I had disembarked my men and horses, Silo continued to Tarsus and from there into Syria. Ventidius, after all, had suddenly become a rising star and Silo welcomed the chance to bring him what amounted to half a legion.
Herod’s friends in Cyprus sent a carrier pigeon into Galilee with a note attached to its leg. This informed him succinctly that Q. Dellius came with three hundred cavalry. Within hours of sending the message another bird returned with instructions for me to make port at Acre three days hence.
Herod had arrived in Acre early that spring; he too had led some three hundred mercenary cavalrymen. He had then proceeded to recruit the Galilean bandits who operated along the Syrian and Galilean border. These were the very same villains Herod had sought so earnestly to eradicate when he was first procurator and then later Tetrarch of Galilee.
Of course these fellows had no love for Herod, but neither did they care for Antigonus or his Parthian allies. What they did possess was a grudging respect for Herod’s fighting talents. So with gold and promises of perfect autonomy in Herod’s new kingdom, he turned them into allies. By mid-summer Herod’s raids on Antigonus’s strongholds in Galilee had inspired still more of the bandit gangs to support his cause. He had also negotiated terms with certain of the Samaritan nobility. These men despised the pro-Judaean Antigonus, who, like Herod, now sported the title of king. The Samaritans were not yet willing to provide fighting men for Herod’s army, but they were willing to shelter Herod’s men on Herod’s promise that they would have some limited autonomy in his new government.
Ever since Ventidius had broken into Syria at midsummer, Herod’s fortunes had been on the rise. In fact, after months of assaults on Jewish strongholds, which had always included plunder, Herod’s Galilean bandits finally agreed to attack the Judaean army besieging Masada. These bandits were extremely tribal in their view of the world. Early on, they had resisted the idea of going to Masada and insisted on staying in territory they knew. Flush with riches from a profitable summer they might have preferred retiring for an early winter holiday, but Herod begged their help. Without it, he said, he would lose his mother, his wife, his son, his sister and his two younger brothers.
Even bandits love their families, and so they agreed to risk everything for Herod’s sake. Of course, there were also deals with certain of the patriarchs of these bandit clans, including promises of high position in Herod’s new government, but Herod knew that the rank and file must believe in a cause, especially one that did not offer instant gratification in the form of fresh plunder.
I learned much of this shortly after my arrival, and I must say the news left me uncertain. I had imagined Herod brought several legions of mercenaries into Galilee and then rallied old friends from the area for support. I had not imagined that he had been forced to recruit his former enemies. In fact, he was nothing more than a king of bandit country, boasting at most a thousand fighting men. We had enjoyed a larger force when we fled Jerusalem.
An accomplished general with more than twenty years in the saddle, Herod had shaped his army of mercenaries and bandits into a potent force, but the Galileans were still only bandits at heart. Such men know one thing above all else. In a tight spot, it is always best to run. They were constitutionally incapable of engaging and holding an enemy line for several hours the way legions fight.
Nor did I bring much to the banquet. My recruits were not even blooded. I had made sure they had some training during our brief sojourn in Athens, but afterwards we had no further opportunities. They were all young men who had learned to hunt, but few of them had ever seen mortal combat outside the arenas; I don’t think any of them had ever held a knife in anger. Truth is most of them were on their first journey away from their mothers.
I did not care to confess to Herod that Silo had disobeyed Antony’s orders. Instead, I explained that Silo would eventually support Herod’s cause but had first wanted to report to Ventidius and coordinate with the legions in Syria. We spent a week sending couriers into Syria to ask for reinforcements. In the end, Herod received much encouragement and with it the promise that Ventidius intended to send Silo into Judaea before winter.
And with that discouraging message Herod told me we had no more time. We had to move at once or lose everyone at Masada.
The fighting at Masada had been quite desperate the previous autumn. Antigonus had wanted to kill all of Herod’s family and so brought his army to the mountain fortress hoping to overwhelm Masada’s defenders.
A month into it Antigonus had finally acknowledged the folly of his plan. Masada was a magnificent fortress and simply could not be taken as long as there were men to defend the only road leading to its high plateau. He could buy off Masada’s defenders easier than he could kill them. Which is exactly what he decided to do.
This change in policy left Herod’s younger brothers, his sister Salome, and even his mother making desperate promises on Herod’s behalf. Any man betraying Herod could count on being hunted down and killed. Any man remaining on the mountain would know Herod’s eternal gratitude. It is doubtful such promises meant very much to his veteran mercenaries, and by early winter most of Herod’s former army had left the mountain. The only men who remained were the four hundred wounded Spartan cavalrymen I had been forced to leave behind. If they abandoned the fight, they knew Antony would have his revenge on their families in Sparta. No bribe or promise was ever going to bring them off that hill.
During the winter there had been some raids against the mountain’s defences, but these had cost the attackers dearly. With spring word came that Herod had come into Galilee with an army. When he did not immediately rescue those at Masada the last of Herod’s mercenaries slipped away. But still the Spartans remained; not a single man deserted.
The problem at Masada was the same we had suffered in the citadel at Jerusalem. The water reservoirs were insufficient for the population. In fact, if not for the desertions, Herod’s family could not have survived through the summer. Some unexpected rainfall in late summer had extended the days remaining before the water was gone, but after that there would be no choice but to break out and make a run for Arabian Nabataea; this of course would include only those civilians capable of such a desperate journey. The rest must either be killed or abandoned to torture and crucifixion.
Before leaving Acre, Herod sent a carrier pigeon to friends in Jericho, who then forwarded birds to Masada and certain friendly Idumaeans in the south. We then packed our supplies on some fifty spare horses and departed Acre two hours before sunrise. This brought us down the coastal road as far as Strabo’s Tower by midday. Here we made camp and rested for three hours. These days Strabo’s Tower is the famous harbour town of Caesarea; in those days it was nothing more than a post station along the coastal road without even a cove for ships to take shelter.
We departed late that afternoon and rode until nearly midnight before our second rest. This camp was five miles north of Ashkelon, where twenty-five hundred infantry and cavalry were set to stop Herod’s advance on Masada. Outnumbered two-to-one, we ought to have abandoned all hope, but Herod had arranged for the men we had left in Egypt to join us. Two hours before dawn, according to their orders, these cohorts brought artillery forward and began lobbing fire into the city. When the garrison responded by sending cavalry against them, they retreated quickly to some makeshift fortifications. The Judaean cavalry, seeing the chance to destroy the entire force, called for infantry reinforcements.
Our scouts were watching for just this moment and we were soon riding through the darkness and into the rear of the Judaean infantry. The moment we hit them, our Egyptian cohorts attacked as well. With the enemy trapped between us, the slaughter that followed left a thousand dead or wounded; as for the rest of them, they hadn’t the courage to keep on fighting and ran into the sea.
We had no time for happy reunions. We gathered what extra horses we could find and rode double for the rest. Masada lay fifty miles due east and Herod wanted to cover as much ground as he could lest the remnants of the force at Ashkelon regroup and give chase. We took thirty miles by midday and then called for a rest. Next morning, four hours before dawn, we rode the last leg of the journey.
An army the size of a legion waited for us, but their singular duty was to guard the path leading to the top of the mountain. As that road lay on Masada’s eastern flank, the army’s camp was located there too. This was not far from the waters of the Dead Sea. We came out of the west using the cover of the hills. Still in darkness, we broke into the open and raced toward the mountain. Judaean sentries raised the alarm then retreated hurriedly.
Herod took twelve hundred riders along the northern route; I went south with my six hundred Spartans, all of whom by this point had seen battle. Herod came into the fight a quarter of an hour before we did. The Judaeans were still coming awake when he hit them, and for a time Herod’s men ran down squads as they tried desperately to organise a defence. Once the Judaean commanders had called their men to order, Herod sounded the retreat. The Judaean infantry, now well positioned to repulse Herod’s second attack, suddenly discovered my Spartan cavalry coming at their camp from the south.
Herod gave their generals no time to organise a second line, but reversed course and charged with his entire cavalry once more. I hit the Judaeans from the opposite side simultaneously, using a combination of horse and infantry.
Once the dust had blinded everyone, Herod’s Galilean bandits pretended panic. Giving a cry of terror, they broke and ran, as bandits are known to do. Seeing an easy victory there for the asking, the Judaean commander ordered an attack against Herod’s exposed flank.
The Galilean bandits, however, quickly reversed direction and came crashing into those Judaeans furthest in advance. Before the Judaeans could pull themselves back into formation, my Spartan auxiliaries on the mountaintop came down on foot and drove into the enemy at its western flank. With enemy forces now on four sides and no hope of forming any kind of defensive line, the Judaeans threw down their weapons and begged for mercy.
Those who had abandoned Masada to join the enemy were sorted out and executed in the aftermath of the battle. The rest were given the opportunity to return to Antigonus in Jerusalem or join Herod’s army. Some few men left, but those with no political stake were happy to swear allegiance to Herod, upon whom it seemed Fortune now smiled.
Afterwards, Herod and I ascended the long road to the mountaintop and greeted those of his family and friends whom we had not seen for sixteen months. I found Salome beyond the press of bodies, her eyes bright but tearless. ‘I must tell you, sir,’ she said, ‘I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us.’
Following his victory at Masada, Herod advanced on Jericho. His numbers now exceeded three thousand fighting men. There was some resistance at the walls of Jericho but friends in the city opened the gates on the very day we attacked. At that point, Antigonus’s garrison threw down their weapons. Once again, Herod gave the captured men the choice of joining him or returning to Antigonus and once more his numbers swelled. As for the rest of us, we were soon installed inside the walls of that most ancient and splendid city. Once we had taken Jericho, Silo marched into Judaea with nearly a full legion under his authority. These included the three cohorts Antony had sent, plus auxiliaries and some mercenaries provided by Ventidius. We imagined the war would soon come to a conclusion. Instead, Silo negotiated a treaty with King Antigonus.
This amounted to Antigonus providing Silo with Judaean gold. With these matters settled, Silo retreated with his army back across the Syrian border, claiming yet another Roman victory for Ventidius.
Jericho is an oasis town at the base of the Judaean mountains. It is rich in produce of every variety but most famous for balsam. Due largely to the wealth of its population, Herod had enjoyed a great many contacts in this city when his father served as a Roman procurator. Despite the city’s close proximity to Jerusalem, Herod elected to winter his troops here. Antigonus sent a force down the mountain to hold us in place, but there was otherwise very little contact between the two armies that winter.
With the seas closed for the season, I had no choice but to spend my winter in Jericho with Herod. With the coming of spring Herod’s army broke out of Jericho and fought its way north along the Jordan valley. In the wake of his victories at Ashkelon and Masada and Jericho, he found fresh recruits in Galilee. The Samaritan lords eventually provided him over two thousand additional cavalry. For my part, I had fulfilled my promise to those Spartans I had left behind and sailed with them to Greece with the help of Herod’s friends in Cyprus.
I learned of Caesar’s marriage to Livia during the journey.