The attack did not come straight away. Unlike with their previous encounter with the Parthians, the riders initially kept their distance. Firing blindly into a town was far less likely to hit a Roman than firing into a more densely packed camp. And the town was nominally in Parthian territory, so they presumably had some obligation to minimise civilian casualties.
So they rode in a circle around the town, out of arrow shot, making noise, aiming to disconcert and demoralise. Quintillius kept the whole century standing to for two hours, until it became obvious that there would be no imminent attack. After this, he sent half of the reserve to go and get food, and to rest, though not to sleep.
On one occasion a small group of riders approached the main gate, but were chased away by a few arrows from the towers flanking the gate. Apart from that, there was no action the whole night, and Oclatinius felt that strange mix of anxiety and boredom common while waiting for a dangerous or stressful situation to materialise.
When it was his turn to be rotated out of line, he grabbed some soup from the mess. In contrast to the heat of the day, the nights in this country chilled to the bone, and he was grateful for the warm broth, even with its stodgy consistency and unidentifiable lumps of gristle. As soon as he had finished it and used the latrine, he went to check up on Bricius.