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=== Palmyra; Martius 137 AD ===

Following the autumn siege and bloody storming of Palmyra and the three days of city sacking that ensured, Carus Florianus Julianus had begun making overtures to the possibility of peace. Persia had lost two field armies in as little as two years; first to Decius Lucius Carus and now to Florianus and his mercenaries. He knew they were hurting, now was the time to make peace or if that could not be achieved march deeper into Persian territory and sack another great city.

The peace talks of course were arranged around a great feast in the new captured Palmyra. The Persians were invited, which was strange to some considering Florianus had just captured the city from them. But such was the way of patricians and Persian nobles, that even when enemies they were both quite able to sit at the same table and share a meal.

The Temple of Alat, the former Persian headquarters during the siege, was chosen for the feast, as it was the least damaged and looted building. It was with all the pomp and ceremony that had come to be expected of Florianus and his Hispano-Romans that they greeted their Persian envoys in Palmyra. Florianus, ever one for dazzling displays wore the full regalia of a senior Roman official, a splendid Roman military uniform ornate with captured Persian stones, a purple cloak from the finest silk and of course a sword inlaid with silver from the Galacian silver mines.

After several hours of eating and false speeches and grand gestures, Florianus approached the leader of the Persian envoy to his camp during the festivities. Florianus bowed and spoke. “I am very pleased that your king has sent you and your companions to parley with myself. War should always be conducted by gentlemen, do you not think?”

"I think your victory here was due to the weakened resolve of a once great Persians," Florianus's counterpart said stiffly. "Men of war do have their own set of rules and honor however, so I will play the gentleman to yours."

"Ah frankness, so rare from a noble." Florianus replied with a smile. "Let us be frank then. I am a mercenary, A well dressed one but a mercenary in Seleukid colours. My contract to drive you Persians back over the Euphrates has been completed. I wish to go home, but obviously cannot leave a resurgent Persia in my rear."

"Aknowledged," Esfandiar said with a hinted smile. He had his hands clasped before him, and stood stiffly. "I am deigned to say Persia and the Shahanshah are without desire to punish our petty minded cousin Iulios for bringing east...mercenaries. I am pleased to say you and Iulios should not expect any measure of peace to last; the Euphrates is only a trickle to cross in the Persian bid for eastern domination."

Florianus smiled again, he really did despise easterners. Two wars he'd now fought against them, one with Raeus Vitellius, now and one on his own. "I'm inclined to believe that. But may I ask why you cannot stop moving west for let’s say ten years? Concentrate on your Indian border... or the Bactrians?"

Esfandiar took a moment to look deeply into Florianus's eyes. He wanted to trust what he saw in them, but couldn't bring himself to see through the Soterist veil he knew cloaked the Western general. There wasn't much of a choice at the moment though, so he abstained from pushing his boundaries. "Will you and your mercenary armies be leaving once the Seleukid military secures for themselves their side of the Euphrates?"

"I'll be leaving a strong Soterist garrison in Palmyra and Iustianopolis". He stated. "But with assurances from you, I will be able to leave myself sooner rather than later. The Seleukid King is still a boy; he is no threat to Persia... but if you hurt him, by god I will come for you all."

"The boy-king is of no consequence," Esfandiar said quickly. "We will maintain our border of the river. Expanding the borders elsewhere will likely take as much time. Any incursion across the river by any military force, I will meet with destruction. An agreement to maintain a tentative peace does not come with free reign to patrol in the King of King's domain."

"Of course, we have no intention of crossing the river. It is far to wide and most of my men cannot swim." Florianus chuckled, then gave a more serious look. "We will stay on our side. Your peace terms are fair."

"Then so are yours. I will not be staying where I cannot conquer, but if you can swim you are welcome to drink the East's superior wine with me." Esfandiar hinted another smile. He wasn't a friendly man, but he was here, and all he had heard of Florianus merited interest.

"One never knows what their fate will be when they are subject to the will of High Kings and Emperors. If you ever find yourself in exile, you are welcomed to take refuge with my men in the west."

"Then I believe we are finished." The Persian general looked to his waiting men nearby, and then back to Florianus. "I believe we can wave goodbye from across the river."

Following the feast, Florianus proceeded to the abandoned Temple of Bel. From there a month ago his army had entered the city and butchered all the Persian soldiers and enslaved the population. He’d come to watch the Persian envoy and his escort cross back over the river and leave. As promised both men waved at each other, Florianus hoped this would be the last he saw of the Persians, but he doubted it.

=== Palmyra; Early Aprilis ===

After two months of rest and bidding farewell to the Seleukid Army of the East, which was staying in Palmyra to guard the new Persian-Seleukid border; The Valenii Juliani mercenaries now headed back west towards Antioch, passing by Iustianopolis along the old Persian highway. They were leaving behind a dead city. The only civilians were the few hundred civilians of Greek decent that had been spared death by Seleukid soldiers.

The twelve thousand Arabs and Persians were being marched east with the army of the Valenii Juliani. After much debate with his generals and the Seleucid they had come to the following agreement; four thousand would be sold as slaves on the open market with the profits to be distributed amongst the army, four thousand were to be given to the Seleucids as tribute for both their assistance and the allowances they had made Florianus and the Soterist cause. Finally four thousand would remain with the army as property of the Valenii Juliani Estate, to serve as slaves, one per contubernium in the legions or in the case of the cavalry four per turmae.

As Florianus’ army headed back westwards, the allied Bedouins laden with loot dispersed, north, west and south back into the deserts and roughs they had come for gold and glory and they were leaving with. The siege of Palmyra had also made many of the Valenii Juliani legionaries very wealthy and the sale of so many slaves would ensure that those who hadn’t made a fortune in loot would live comfortable lives if they did not gamble it all away. it.

=== Iustianopolis, Syria; Late Aprilis ===

Eastern Syria and Palmyra were strange, exotic and distant lands for the four legions from Hispania. New customs, Greek and Persians to contend with. unfamiliar enemy the Persians had been to the Hispanica legions and a fascinating and dangerous land the desert was. It was with great pride that the four legions of the Army of the Valenii Juliani and their auxiliaries marched back to Iustianopolis in late Aprilis. From there they would be saying goodbye to the gentleman volunteers of the remnants of the Iustian legions who’d assisted them at Palmyra. Iustianopolis needed every soldier it had and Florianus had been grateful for the many volunteers that had come to Palmyra with him.

The weeks spent in Iustianopolis were good. They were praised as heroes by the Soterist population and he was reunited with his Soterist wife; Julia Athenias Caprenius and his second youngest son; Marius Caprenius. But it was not only Florianus who got to see his wife and children, many of the officers and even some Centurions were reunited with family that had moved to Iustianopolis and for those who didn’t there were plenty of women in the brothels and taverns of the city. The time spent at Iustianopolis was critical to the morale of the legionaries. After a long siege, it was good to allow the men to spend their hard earned money.

In early Maius the Army of the Valenii Juliani set out once again for Antioch. Florianus bid his young Soterist wife goodbye, not wanting to take her on campaign and headed for Antioch with his army.

=== Antioch, Syria; Maius ===

Returning to Antioch, Florianus was invited to the royal palace to speak with the eighteen year old King Iulios of Seleukia. Conversations were as always polite and formal, but the young king was fast becoming a man and Florianus was beginning to find it a pleasure to serve with him. Word had come to him that the great Magister Militum Sabaco had been seriously wounded and might lose his arm and his army was shattered and hiding in the Galatian mountains after their defeat to the Phrygians.

“Well then there is only but one thing to do.” Florianus stated to the young king as they strolled in the palace garden, escorted by elite Seleucid silver shields and Praetorians Floriana. “I will head up into the mountains and ascertain the situation. If Sabaco is gravely ill I will order his men to evacuate him to Antioch where he will be able to recover at the palace.”

The young king nodded in agreement. “Caedmon will be your biggest problem up in those mountains. He is one of the three kings of the Galatian tribes and has sided with the Phygrians. You will have to destroy him...”

“Yes. I take it the Seleucid Army of Asia Minor will not be coming with me?” Florianus asked, last time he’d been fortunate to have the support of 12,000 Seleucids under the famed General Zosimos Nikomachos.

“Phygria is not my war, Magister Militum Florianus Julianus. It is Rome’s war. Good luck with it is all I can say. If you are somehow pushed out of Galatia and into my lands, then I can help you.”

Florianus nodded but showed little expression not wanting to turn the young king against him. “Understood your majesty. I am grateful for all you have done for me so far. “

Staying on in Antioch for another week after his meeting with the king, Florianus made sure the Seleukids paid the 12,000,000c he was owed for the year of service his four legions and auxiliaries had provided.

=== Seleukia Pieria, Syria ===

Heading down the Orontes, Florianus and his cavalry escort headed to Seleukia Pieria; the port of Antioch. The trouble with keeping an army of thirty thousand men in the field was supplies, grain in particular.

During the siege of Palmyra this had been simple; the army was fed from the Beqaa valley in Lebanon. But now with the planned march into Galatia and joining up with the army of Marcus Annius Sabaco; a lot more grain and other food stuffs were needed. This would be resolved by sending the Classis Hispanica on a series of supply runs to Egypt where grain was plentiful. Purchasing officers consisting of various Prefects from the army would be sent to Egypt to secure supplies; they would then have those supplies loaded onto transports which would in turn be escorted to Seleukia Pieria by the fleet.

Once at Seleukia Pieria, the grain would be unloaded and would join the supply trains from the Beqaa valley and head up into Galatia and keep the two armies supplied with enough food and material. To protect the supply lines, soldiers had been picked from the four Valenii Juliani legions by lottery as to avoid any favouritism.

Florianus looked far out to sea westwards wondering if he would ever return home. News had finally arrived of the defeat of the Consular Army of Hispania at Equestris. But also word from his brother that the situation was under control and not to come. Although his heart was heavy, he had to trust that Valens Julianus, Lucius Tacitus Vitellius and his cousin Fortunus Julianus could handle the situation. Nevertheless he had more important work to do up north in Galatia now.

=== Camp of the Valenii Juliani outside Antioch, Syria; Early Junius ===

Walking back into his tent he looked at the commanders who had assembled before him, Legate Aristocles Pamphilos; his old bodyguard captain now a noble and wealthy man. Legate Flavius Granius Cumanus his best friend from their days as tribunes, Legate Roscius Bassus the Baetican traitor who’d thrown in his lot with Florianus during the civil war and Legate Ahtareths Julianus, his adopted Soterist Freigoth brother.
They represented a diverse group but all were loyal and had stayed with Florianus through thick and thin. He sat down at the head of the table and smiled at the four legates. “Well we all know what’s been going on in Hispania. Let us discuss this as gentlemen.”

Roscius folded his arms and shot a stare at Ahtareths. “For sure, his people have turned on us and have attacked ours.”

Ahtareths laughed. “My people, my people are here with me general Bassus. My people are the four thousand soldiers who have bled and died. We’ve done far more then the soldiers of Legio III Somatia.”

Florianus waved his hand for them to stop. “Ahtareths I love you, but watch what you say of Legio III Somatia. I hold that legion just as dear as I hold the men of Corsica Fidelis, or Gothica Hispanica.” Florianus paused and thought. “The situation in Hispania is horrible and I do not want it affecting the morale of this army. I will order my brother to spare as many Friesgoths and relocate them to one of my colonies in Africa or Western Hispania. Therefore your men will have some family and kinsmen when this is over Ahtareths. Make sure to inform them of that.”

Ahtareths nodded. “Grim.” He stated folding his arms.

“Roscius, you will return to Hispania. My little brother will need you for the campaigns in Baetica and putting everything back in order once things are completed.” Florianus then looked across at Ahtareths. “I will need your boys for the campaign in Asia Minor. We will need veterans.”

Both Legates nodded and saluted; although it seemed clear that neither would work together again. Separating them was now the only option. “At least we filled that prophecy of that crazy old Greek priest. We will take Palmyra but one of us will not survive the east. Well at least I’m going back home and not dying.”

Florianus laughed a little and then looked over at Aristocles Pamphilos and Flavius Granius Cumanus who sat side by side as always. “How about you two? You up for the invasion of Galatia?”

“You know me, Florianus I have nowhere else to be but with Legio II Ursus Hispaniorum. If it is my choice I will never leave my boys... yours.” Granius said with a smile at his old friend. They had both been with the legion since her inception. Back in 126; while Florianus had commanded the legion, Granius had commanded the legionary cavalry. They had always worked well together and Florianus had even taken Granius’ sister as his first wife before she died tragically during the first Persian war.

Aristocles Pamphilos chuckled. “Sir. I’m better come along as well then. Someone will have to look after you and Granius... opps Legate Flavius is it now.”

The four Legates laughed for some time before going on to spend the rest of the evening eating, drinking and going over countless maps of Asia Minor they had secured for the upcoming march into Galatia.

=== Tavium, Galatia; Sextilis ===

By Sextilis the Army of the Valenii Juliani had made camp at Tavium. It was still east of the camp of the Roman Army of Annius Sabaco at Ancyra. But Florianus was never one to over extend his supply lines in hostile or neutral territory, a lesson learnt from his former adversary Raeus Vitellius; who fortunately had not followed his own rules when fighting Florianus. There had already been some difficulties with supply a stampede of cattle thanks to legionaries inexperienced in shepherding had driven five hundred livestock into the mountains where the Galatians quickly made off with at least two hundred head.

Therefore Tavium was a useful place to stay. It was connected by many roads, a trading post and had an advanced metal working industry. Florianus paid their metal workers highly to put his legions armour and weapons in good working order.

“Do all Romans take such an interest in military matters?” Afrari asked as she slipped into a violet tunic. She kissed Florianus on the cheek before walking over to a table where a slave had prepared a meal for them.

The relationship was of mutual benefit, a daughter of Persian nobility she was well educated and an unusual asset to his retinue. In turn he provided her with all the luxuries a woman of her standing required, now that her father General Shahram had been disgraced by the Persian court following the defeat at Palmyra.

Florianus watched her for a moment, her green eyes, and her thick straight hair cut short in a very un-Persian fashion. She had long legs, and white skin, the result of very selective breeding. He smiled at her. “All Roman men yes. It is part of the course of honour for any young man to pass through the military if he wishes to one day hold high office.” Florianus stated before picking up an ornate necklace that had been dropped on the floor, he placed it around her neck and fastened it.

“Don’t think that fancy gifts will make me hate you any less for making me stay in that damned Palmyra for four months while you besieged my father’s army.” Afrari stated holding onto his hand for a few seconds be releasing.

“I promise to make it up to you.” Florianus said. “But better me then being married to Augustus Tiberius Varro or that lover of yours.”

She smirked. “Captain Tooraj was a fine and noble man, and be glad I blame Tiberius Varro for his death and not you, or I would slit your neck in your sleep.” Afrari stated, standing up and poking Florianus in the chest. She was feigning anger more than anything; Tooraj had been a past time. If anything she was grateful Florianus had killed Tiberius Varro and in turn Varro had gotten Tooraj killed or it would have been a extremely messy situation being the mistress of the Roman Magister Militum and have a lover at the Persian court.

“Says the woman who has infiltrated my camp and now spies on me for Persia and your father.” Florianus said holding her by the waist. “You are a little vixen who will turn out to be far more trouble then she is worth!” he said, looking into those deep green eyes.

They kissed but were interrupted by the footsteps of several Praetorians from Cohors Praetoria I Floriana, the changing of the guard for morning. Florianus chuckled lightly. “See only with you am I this nervous.”

She took a step back and undid the ornate golden brooch that was holding up her tunic. “Let’s keep it like that Magister Militum Julianus. I do not want you thinking I am expendable without consequences.”

=== Ancyra, Galatia; Quintilis ===

Florianus surveyed yet another mountainous valley before him and looked back across at the valley they’d just come through. They were finally at Ancyra. Mountains, so many mountains in Asia Minor, he concluded in his thoughts, Ancyra itself was located on a steep rocky hill, it was a perfect defensive position it made sense that Sabaco had retreated to here after his defeat. How he would march such a large army through them and enter the kingdom of Phrygia was plaguing his thoughts.

“How is your Persian mistress, father?” Florianus Gaius Julianus, a runner for Legio I Corsica Fidelis, asked looking over his shoulder at Florianus mounted on a white Iberian mare. “She is serving her purpose son. Does it bother you?”

“A little but not much. Mother died six years ago. I can live with your mistresses and current wife or wives if you count the Agrippa lady in Rome.” Gaius replied.

“And what do you want Gaius?” Florianus asked. “The world could be yours one day. The family owns Hispania and has the friendship of the Seleucids and the Iustians.” He’d always found his eldest son to be perspective and loyal even from a young age, most likely taking after uncle Valens Julianus or Granius Flavius.

Gaius, still a teenage boy of fifteen, was of average height, and tanned skin, but muscular having had a hard tutelage under Florianus’ best soldiers. Yet still very immature in appearance, a gentle demeanour likes his mother before him. “I want to serve in the battle line with the legionaries.”

“Out of the question. You are too young and inexperienced.” Florianus said.

“You asked.” Gaius said somewhat frustrated by the response. “Am I not a soldier of Legio I Corsica Fidelis. Have I not received the best instruction?”

Florianus shook his head. “You are a runner, not a soldier and your training is not that of a legionary who must hold a heavy shield for up to six hours in a line of battle. “I will have this discussion again when you are eighteen, maybe seventeen when you are old enough to be an Adiuvator.

“You forget I am your son, father.” Gaius said turning his horse about and heading back down the valley to rejoin his legion.

Florianus shook his head once again and looked down at the valley his soldiers were heading into again. It had been months since the Roman army of Magister Militum Marcus Annius Sabaco had suffered its first major defeat. Annius Sabaco was suffering from a terrible fever after his wounds suffered at the defeat and rather than attempt to relieve him of command, Florianus had his army enter and join camp with Sabaco’s army.

Now he would wait to see if Sabaco recovered from his wounds and fever. If he did, Florianus would march with him into Phygria. If the Phygrians invaded Galatia he would defend it with the two armies. But if things turned for the worst the only option was to send Sabaco to Antioch to recover and invade Phygria himself.




Written by: Carus Florianus Julianus
Edited By: Ferus Juventas
138 AD