Meanwhile at Emesa busy brains had been busily at work. A gentle reminder of his perilous position was on the way to Macrinus. By way of showing him that Julian had forced a battle, and was sending the spoil to grace the festivities arranged for the Child Emperor’s elevation, Eutychianus Comazon, the soldier whose persuasive power and influence had been of such use to Maesa, bethought himself of a pleasant surprise. He took the Praefect’s head and wrapped it in linen cloths, tied it with many and elaborate cords, then, taking Julian’s own signet, he sealed the bundle carefully and sent it by the hands of a trusty and cunning soldier. “From the victorious Praefect Julian to his august Emperor, with greeting. The head and source of our offence, according to the commandment.” Judge of the fright and disgust which arose in the breast of that Moor on discovering, when the bundle was opened, not the features of his despised enemy, but the death-mask of his trusty and well-beloved lieutenant, the man who had saved him from Caracalla’s vengeance at the outset of his own plot. Merely that, and no further news to hand, because the bearer of the tidings had departed without waiting for a reward. Bit by bit the news trickled through: at least four legions had deserted, and, greatest blow of all, the very Moors in whom he had trusted. The hated Antonine was triumphant and in the ascendant. It was enough to wake even the comatose parody of the great Marcus Aurelius. After waiting to recover his senses, he took to his heels and ran—discretion being the better part of valour—not, however, as Herodian suggests, with characteristic untruth, towards Emesa, but back to Antioch, as Dion discreetly remarks, with Bassianus and his paltry, though rapidly augmenting, forces soon to follow. The boy and idiot was ready to fight the Praetorian Guards, ready even to face the brunt of opposition from the conciliated legion at Apamea if necessary. Bassianus’ army must have been enthusiastically loyal and keen. It was a motley crew of men, with new officers and a disorganised commissariat; certainly it had no adequate head. Indeed, had Macrinus taken the bull by the horns at once, he was bound to have cut up Antonine’s forces and silenced the revolt; but he escaped, hoping to fight another day, and Bassianus instead came to Apamea. Here Severus’ legion of Albano was in no mood to offer opposition to the heir of Severus, and promptly took the suggested oaths, which added yet more strength to the rush that was about to be made on Antioch, where Macrinus was sheltering himself and shivering with apprehension, having left the field clear to his adversary, and given him just what he wanted, time for accession of strength.