"Pompey's army has not left Dyrrhachium. He has continued with his line of forts and walls, now that we have shown the need for them."

Octavian slapped Domitius on the back at this and Julius smiled at their enthusiasm.

"We have only one man in the city itself and Caecilius has not been able to reach us. The scouting reports are all we have. It may be that Pompey intends to ring the city with a line of solid forts before he takes the field once more. Or perhaps he has lost his taste for war completely. He is not the man he once was. When I think of how he fought Spartacus, the change is extraordinary."

"He's grown old," Regulus said.

Julius exchanged a glance with him, knowing that Regulus knew Pompey as well as any of them. "He's not yet sixty, though I cannot think of any other reason for him to play such a defensive role. He has twice the men at my command, yet they sit around Dyrrhachium and do nothing but build walls to keep us out."

"Perhaps he's terrified of us," Octavian said, between mouthfuls of salted beef. "We've given him cause after leading him around Greece by the nose. The Senate have their wives and daughters back by your generosity and they must know we could have burnt Dyrrhachium."

Julius nodded, thinking. "I had hoped some of his legions would have joined us by now. I have done everything but ride to ask them personally, yet still there are only a few who dare to defy Pompey and the Senate. The scouts report more than eighty heads adorning his new walls, honorable men who answered our call and were caught. Fewer still have made it to our camps."

"It will not help him," Domitius said. "The more he kills for desertion, the more will lose respect for him. We gave them Dyrrhachium without hurting a hair of the citizens' heads. Killing his own men must aid our cause."

"I hope so, though I wish more had tried to reach us," Julius said. "Their loyalty is proving a difficult obstacle." He rose to his feet and began to pace the floor of the tent. "Unless we can reduce his numbers, we have not gained more than a respite. How long will this new meat and grain last? Pompey can be supplied by sea, while we have to carry everything with us." He shook his head. "We must not be complacent. I have tried to beat him without bloodshed, but I think it is time to risk a little more than that."

Julius held up a written report and glanced at the words on the parchment once more.

"His legions are spread thinly to build these walls. Only six cohorts are stationed at the furthest eastern point of his lines. If I take a single legion, leaving our equipment here, we can cut them out of his control and reduce his strength. More important, we need a solid victory to sway more of his men into coming over to us. This could give us that."

The mood in the tent changed as they realized the days of planning and strategy were over. Food was laid aside and they watched their pacing leader, feeling the old excitement stiffen their backs.

"I do not want to be dragged into a major confrontation, gentlemen. This is to be a fast strike, in and then out again. Ciro, you may remember how we fought Mithridates in this same land. That is what I have in mind. We will destroy these cohorts and then withdraw before Pompey can summon his main army."

He paused, looking around at the faces of the men he trusted.

"Domitius, you will command four cohorts and hit them on one side as I attack on the other. We have the advantage of surprise and darkness and it should be over quickly."

"Yes, sir," Domitius said. "Will four cohorts be enough?"

"With four more under me, it will. A small force can move quickly and silently. Any more and Pompey may have the chance to prepare a counterattack. This is all about speed. We'll march in darkness, smash them, and disappear." He rubbed a point on his forehead as he thought. "It may sting Pompey into taking the field. If that happens, all legions are to withdraw south until we reach land best suited for a defense."

"What if he does not move?" Ciro asked.

"Then he has lost his nerve completely. I assume the Senate will attempt to replace him with another from his Greek legions. I will then reopen negotiations. Without Pompey, any action they take will be illegal and we should have more of them desert to us." He picked up his cup of wine and raised it in a toast to them.

"There is no moon tonight. As they will not come out, we will take the fight to them."

The work of building Pompey's walls never ceased. Even in the winter darkness, the men labored in shifts under flickering torches. Labienus looked over the hillside, listening to the calls and orders as his legion built an extension to the fortifications around Dyrrhachium.

"This is madness," he murmured under his breath.

Even standing alone, he glanced around him to see if any of his men could have heard. Ever since Dyrrhachium had been handed back to Pompey, Labienus had found his personal discipline strained to the point of breaking. He was forced to watch as Pompey gave up chances to end the war, wasting his men on forts around a city that had already lost its only real value. True, more supplies were being landed in the port, but to spend time and strength on protecting one small area while Caesar roamed the rest of Greece went against all Labienus's instincts. In his most private thoughts, he had realized Pompey was terrified. Whether it was the illness he vainly sought to hide, or simply that his courage had deserted him, Labienus could not tell. He did not care what the reason was. The largest army Greece had seen in generations was either growing soft in the city or building useless defenses.

It was infuriating to see loyal legions become sullen and watchful. Only that morning, Labienus had carried out the execution of another four men at Pompey's order. The record of punishment would show they were insolent, though that had come only after Pompey condemned them. It had begun with a flogging for carrying bone dice on watch. Three of them had been fools enough to let their anger show.

Labienus clenched his fist in a spasm. He had known one of them personally and suffered the misery of having to reject a private appeal. He had risked a request for mercy, but Pompey would not see him until the executions had been carried out.

It was fear, Labienus supposed to see enemies even amongst your own men. Pompey took out his frustration on the legions of Greece and the worst of it was that they knew very well what was happening and despised him for it. Labienus could sense their restlessness and growing anger. Eventually, the most loyal of soldiers would rebel under such treatment.

In a climate of suspicion, Labienus detested the risks he was forced to take. When he tried to consult with Pompey, he was rebuffed, but the chain of command threw up its orders and requests as always. He could not allow his subordinates to see Pompey's weakness. Each morning, Labienus issued crisp instructions as if they were from Pompey, hoping all the time that the Dictator would come to his senses and resume control. It was a suicidally dangerous game, but Pompey's only interest seemed to be the defensive walls that grew like ugly bones across the landscape. With the pace he demanded, lives were lost building them, and the mood of the legions was souring further each day. They knew their strength and numbers should not be wasted, even if Pompey didn't.

Only that morning, Labienus had had to send his military tribunes away as they broached the subject of Pompey's leadership. They did not understand he could not be seen to waver. His loyalty had to be public and absolute, or the chain of command would shatter. It was too dangerous even to discuss and he was still furious with their stupidity. More worrying was the fact that if senior men dared to bring it up, the rot must be deep amongst the lower ranks.