Julius turned red-rimmed eyes on his younger relative and after a time he nodded. He raised his head to speak once more to the Third.

"I have no sons. I have never needed them while I have known you. Let it be over between us. We have come far enough." He cleared his throat and threw his voice as far as he could. "My Tenth are short of men. They will walk among you and some will swell their ranks. The rest of you will be decimated. The survivors will fill the places of the dead in my loyal legions. I have no use for you now."

A low murmur of agonized fear came from the ranks of the Third. No one moved from their position. Julius could hear the pleading note in their voices and he hardened himself to it.

"Tenth legion! Stand forward and take the best of them. You will oversee what comes after."

He watched as the centurions of his Tenth moved out amongst them. He was exhausted and despair filled him. They had lost hundreds of men the night before to death or capture. Yet there were still more than three thousand of a veteran legion remaining. He could not disband them so far from Rome. They would be forced to prey on the villages and towns of Greece just to survive. He would be releasing a plague on Roman citizens that would eventually have to be hunted down and killed. He had no choice but to mark the day in their blood. They had run.

The officers of the Tenth indicated their choices with a brief touch on the shoulder. Each man chosen seemed to crumple slightly, as if he could not believe what was happening. They left gaps in the lines as they walked back to the Tenth, and humiliation and relief rode them in equal measure.

As the process continued, Julius shot a suspicious glance at Octavian and found his general already watching him. The younger man was stiff with tension and when Julius opened his mouth to interrupt the choosing, he saw Octavian shake his head minutely, his eyes begging. Julius resumed his gaze over the legions and said nothing.

The chosen men re-formed as a third group standing by the Tenth and it was soon clear that the officers had interpreted Julius's orders to suit them. Julius guessed Octavian was behind the idea and he could only watch as every single man of the Third was tapped on the shoulder and marched over to the new position. They had left no one behind and Julius saw the beginnings of hope on the faces of the Third as they understood. The pressure of Octavian's gaze was relentless.

Julius beckoned Octavian over to him. When he was close enough, Julius leaned toward him, his voice low. "What have you done?" he murmured.

"Their lives belong to the Tenth now," Octavian replied. "Please. Let it stand."

"You undermine me," Julius said. "Would you have them go unpunished?"

"The Third are gone, sir. These men are yours again. They will not forget the chance if you grant it to them."

Julius stared at Octavian, seeing again how far he had come from the boy Julius had known. The warrior and general before him had outgrown his youth. Julius knew he had been manipulated, but he took an odd pride in seeing it from his own blood.

"They are yours, then, General. Domitius will lead the Tenth."

Octavian shifted in his saddle. "You are honoring him?" he said.

Julius nodded. "It seems I can still surprise you. It is the only choice now. This 'new' legion will fight well for you, as the man who saved them. If I let Domitius command any lesser men than my own Tenth, he will lose face and that will eat at his discipline. This will show I do not hold him to account for the failure." He paused, thinking. "In fact, I do not. I should have allowed for delays and arranged for a different system of signals. Too late now, but the responsibility is my own as well."

He saw Octavian relax as he realized his scheme to save the Third would not be overturned. He had presented Julius with the choice of humiliating both Octavian and the Tenth, or making the best of it. The cleverness of it appealed to Julius as it would have to no other Roman commander.

"Have you a name for them?" Julius asked.

Had Octavian thought that far ahead? It seemed he had, as the younger man answered immediately.

"They will be the Fourth Greek legion."

"There is already one of that name," Julius replied coldly. "They are the ones we fought last night. Labienus commands them."

"I know it. When they next meet in battle, they will fight all the harder to earn the right to keep it," Octavian said.

Despite his experience, he searched Julius's face for approval and in response Julius reached out and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Very well," he said, "but if they ever run again, I will crucify them to the last man. I will not save you from their punishment, Octavian. Do you still want to lead them?"

Octavian did not hesitate. "I do, sir," he said, saluting. He took up his reins and trotted back to the lines, leaving Julius alone.

"My Tenth have brought new honor for you," Julius said, his voice ringing over them. "If they can see your worth, I will not refuse them this. The Third are no more and their name will be removed from the Senate rolls in Rome on our return. I cannot give you back your history. I can only offer a new start and a new name. You will be the Fourth Greek legion. You know that name from the men we faced last night. We will take it from them, and when we meet in war we will take back our honor with it."

The soldiers who had been freed raised their heads in relief. Many of them shook with the power of their deliverance and Julius was satisfied he had made the right choice.

"General Domitius is free of blame and will command the Tenth to show the honor I place in him. General Octavian has asked to be given the new Fourth and I have accepted. Remember that your lives have come from the honor of my Tenth and you carry that honor with you. Do not shame them."

He swept his gaze over the thousands before him and felt that some of the shame of the previous night had indeed been washed away. He knew now that Pompey had lost his courage. He could be beaten.

Labienus stood still on the training yard at Dyrrhachium. More than two hundred of Caesar's Third legion were on their knees in the red dust, their hands bound behind them. The wind whipped across the yard, coating them in grit so that they were forced to lower their heads and blink out the stinging grains.

Labienus was still furious with the man who watched the proceedings from the back of a fine Spanish gelding. He knew his duty, however, and he would not hesitate to give the order for the execution to begin. A dozen officers were under guard in another barracks and would be tortured for information. The rest were simply an example to be made.

Labienus glanced at Pompey, waiting for his nod. He could not escape the feeling that the three legions Pompey had assembled hardly needed to see more Roman blood. They had witnessed enough of their own being shed to learn anything new from the process. This was not for them, he thought. This was for Pompey. Perhaps there was a part of the old man who knew what a fool he had been in holding back the extraordinarii the night before. Labienus had sent out his trackers at dawn and they had found no sign of any larger force. Labienus knew the information would seep out and morale would sink even lower.

As Pompey met his eyes, Labienus realized he had been staring and saluted hurriedly to cover his embarrassment. Pompey looked as if the stiff breeze could blow him down and his skin was taut and yellow across his bones. Labienus thought he was dying, but until the Senate revoked his Dictatorship, he had the power of life and death over them all.

Pompey nodded sharply and Labienus turned to the five men who had been chosen for the task. He could see they did not relish it, though he had picked the most brutal killers under his command.