see that you have justice, never fear. Be here at my tribunal in the morning.â Dismissing the Blemmyeâs stammered thanks, Boniface sent for the
primicerius
to make enquiries about the offending soldierâs posting.
So much for rash promises, thought Boniface wryly, as he rode north towards the Capsa Mountains. Having told the Blemmye to attend tomorrowâs tribunal, it was imperative that, he Boniface complete his mission before then, both to keep his word to the plaintiff, and to maintain his reputation as a larger-than-life heroicfigure, guaranteed to mete out swift and terrible justice. Boniface chuckled to himself; living up to this carefully nurtured reputation was hard work. It was, however, important that he do so, not from vanity, but because it promoted high morale and loyalty among his troops.
He had learnt that the soldier was now billeted in a village just to the north of the Capsas. It was a mere ten miles away as the falcon flew, but several times that distance by the standard route, which detoured round the western end of the mountain chain â a choice barred to Boniface. The Seldja Gorge, he had learnt, did lead directly through the mountains, though it was used only by the foolhardy or the desperate. To have any hope of keeping his promise, that was the route he must take.
Obeying instructions given to him at camp by a Berber scout, Boniface skirted the foot of the range till he encountered the Seldja river. He followed it as it suddenly angled into the mountainside, and found himself entering a rocky portal hitherto invisible. This natural gateway debouched into a wilderness of shattered rock, choked with debris from the heights above, and impossible to traverse save by keeping to the river-bed itself, which was fringed by spiky reeds and tamarisk. His mount, slipping and starting over the chaos of boulders, disturbed sandpipers and wagtails that skimmed the surface of the brook. Boniface emerged eventually into a fantastic canyon whose winding vertical walls maintained a distance apart of some thirty yards. High above, cliff-swallows and rock-doves swooped and fluttered.
Here, the track left the stream and ascended the gorgeâs right-hand side. Never before had Bonifaceâs nerve and control of his horse been so severely tested, as he pressed on and up along a track barely eighteen inches wide, with a sheer precipice to his left. The danger was compounded by the presence of snakes. Several times, the general heard an angry hiss issuing from the rocks that strewed the path, and once a cobra rose up before him on its massive coils. Retreat being impossible, Boniface halted his trembling mount and tried to calm it, while the huge snakeâs hissing rose to a furious crescendo and its throat swelled ominously. But after a few nerve-shredding seconds it glided off, apparently deciding that the creatures confronting it posed no threat.
After a few miles, to Bonifaceâs immense relief the canyon opened out, its sheer walls giving place to easy slopes up to a plateau. Soon, Boniface was descending the north flank of the range, and by early evening had come in sight of the village â a scatter of one-storeyed mud-brick buildings, with here and there the black goat-skin tent of a nomad family. Militarily, the place was an outpost of Thelepte, a largish town some distance to the north, where two
numeri
, or infantry units, the Fortenses and the Cimbriani, were temporarily billeted.
A few questions to a couple of villagers elicited the information required. Boniface knocked on the door â painted the ubiquitous blue â of one of the larger buildings, and was directed by the landlord to an annexe at the rear. He ripped aside the goatskin curtain that screened the entrance and stepped inside. Dim light from a small unglazed window revealed, besides domestic clutter, and soldierâs kit hanging from pegs, a cot with a sleeping infant, and a bed containing two figures,
primicerius
to make enquiries about the offending soldierâs posting.
So much for rash promises, thought Boniface wryly, as he rode north towards the Capsa Mountains. Having told the Blemmye to attend tomorrowâs tribunal, it was imperative that, he Boniface complete his mission before then, both to keep his word to the plaintiff, and to maintain his reputation as a larger-than-life heroicfigure, guaranteed to mete out swift and terrible justice. Boniface chuckled to himself; living up to this carefully nurtured reputation was hard work. It was, however, important that he do so, not from vanity, but because it promoted high morale and loyalty among his troops.
He had learnt that the soldier was now billeted in a village just to the north of the Capsas. It was a mere ten miles away as the falcon flew, but several times that distance by the standard route, which detoured round the western end of the mountain chain â a choice barred to Boniface. The Seldja Gorge, he had learnt, did lead directly through the mountains, though it was used only by the foolhardy or the desperate. To have any hope of keeping his promise, that was the route he must take.
Obeying instructions given to him at camp by a Berber scout, Boniface skirted the foot of the range till he encountered the Seldja river. He followed it as it suddenly angled into the mountainside, and found himself entering a rocky portal hitherto invisible. This natural gateway debouched into a wilderness of shattered rock, choked with debris from the heights above, and impossible to traverse save by keeping to the river-bed itself, which was fringed by spiky reeds and tamarisk. His mount, slipping and starting over the chaos of boulders, disturbed sandpipers and wagtails that skimmed the surface of the brook. Boniface emerged eventually into a fantastic canyon whose winding vertical walls maintained a distance apart of some thirty yards. High above, cliff-swallows and rock-doves swooped and fluttered.
Here, the track left the stream and ascended the gorgeâs right-hand side. Never before had Bonifaceâs nerve and control of his horse been so severely tested, as he pressed on and up along a track barely eighteen inches wide, with a sheer precipice to his left. The danger was compounded by the presence of snakes. Several times, the general heard an angry hiss issuing from the rocks that strewed the path, and once a cobra rose up before him on its massive coils. Retreat being impossible, Boniface halted his trembling mount and tried to calm it, while the huge snakeâs hissing rose to a furious crescendo and its throat swelled ominously. But after a few nerve-shredding seconds it glided off, apparently deciding that the creatures confronting it posed no threat.
After a few miles, to Bonifaceâs immense relief the canyon opened out, its sheer walls giving place to easy slopes up to a plateau. Soon, Boniface was descending the north flank of the range, and by early evening had come in sight of the village â a scatter of one-storeyed mud-brick buildings, with here and there the black goat-skin tent of a nomad family. Militarily, the place was an outpost of Thelepte, a largish town some distance to the north, where two
numeri
, or infantry units, the Fortenses and the Cimbriani, were temporarily billeted.
A few questions to a couple of villagers elicited the information required. Boniface knocked on the door â painted the ubiquitous blue â of one of the larger buildings, and was directed by the landlord to an annexe at the rear. He ripped aside the goatskin curtain that screened the entrance and stepped inside. Dim light from a small unglazed window revealed, besides domestic clutter, and soldierâs kit hanging from pegs, a cot with a sleeping infant, and a bed containing two figures,
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