Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

‘Agesandros is right,’ Atia declared. ‘Things will be hard enough in the months to come. Let us all make a new start.’ She stared expectantly at Aurelia. Agesandros’ expression was milder, but mirrored hers.

‘Very well,’ Aurelia whispered, feeling more isolated than ever.

Chapter XVII: Debate

Having found a cheap bed for the night, the two friends hit the nearest tavern. Drinking seemed the adult thing to do, but of course there was a darker reason behind it: their thoughts about the outcome of the war. Both felt more awkward than they had since falling out during Flaccus’ visit. Aurelia was not there to mediate, so wine would have to do. Their tactic worked to some extent, and they chatted idly while eyeing the prostitutes who were working the room for customers.

It didn’t take long before the wine began to affect them both. Neither were used to drinking much. Fortunately, they grew merry rather than morose, and the evening became quite enjoyable. Encouraged by a hooting Hanno, Quintus even relaxed enough to take one of the whores on to his lap and fondle her bare breasts. He might have gone further, but then something happened that took all their attention away from wine and women. Important news didn’t take long to spread through cities and towns. People simply carried the word on foot, from shops to taverns, and market places to houses. Naturally, the accuracy of such gossip could not always be relied upon, but that did not mean there wasn’t some truth to it.

‘Hannibal is leading his army over the Alps!’ cried a voice from outside the inn. ‘When he falls upon Italy, we shall be murdered in our beds!’

As all conversation ceased, the two friends stared at each other, wide eyed. ‘Did you know about this?’ Quintus hissed.

‘I had no idea,’ Hanno replied truthfully. ‘Why else would I have agreed to travel with you to Iberia?’

A moment later, a middle-aged man with a red face and double chin entered. His grubby tunic and calloused hands pointed towards him being a shopkeeper of some kind. He smiled self-importantly at the barrage of questions that greeted him. ‘I have seen Publius the consul with my own eyes, not an hour since,’ he announced. ‘He has returned from Massilia with this terrible news.’

‘What else did you hear?’ shouted a voice. ‘Tell us!’

A roar of agreement went up from the other patrons.

The shopkeeper licked his lips. ‘Running through the streets is thirsty work. A cup of wine would wet my throat nicely.’

Hurriedly, the landlord filled a beaker to the brim. Scurrying over, he pressed it into the newcomer’s hand.

He took a deep swallow and smacked his lips with satisfaction. ‘Tasty.’

‘Tell us!’ Quintus cried.

The shopkeeper smiled again at his temporary power. ‘After landing at Massilia for supplies, Publius heard word that Hannibal might be in the area. He sent out a patrol, which stumbled upon the entire Carthaginian army.’ He paused, letting the shocked cries of his audience fill the air, and draining his cup. The innkeeper refilled it at once. The man raised a hand. Instantly, silence fell. ‘When he heard, Publius led his army north with all speed, his aim to force the enemy into battle. But when they arrived, Hannibal had gone. Vanished. His only intention can be to cross the mountains and enter Cisalpine Gaul. Before invading Italy.’

Wails of terror met his final remark. The room descended into chaos as everyone screamed to be heard. Some customers even ran away, back to their houses. Quintus’ face bore an expression of total shock, while Hanno struggled to control his exhilaration. Who else could be so daring, other than Hannibal? He wondered if his father had known about this tactically brilliant plan, and said nothing? At one stroke, his priorities had been changed utterly.

Quintus had realised the same thing. ‘I suppose you’ll be leaving now,’ he said accusingly. ‘Why travel to Iberia now? Just head to Cisalpine Gaul.’

Feeling guilty for even entertaining the idea, Hanno flushed. ‘This changes nothing,’ he replied. ‘We are going to Iberia to find your father.’

Quintus looked Hanno in the eyes, and saw that he meant it. He hung his head. ‘I’m sorry for doubting your honour,’ he muttered. ‘It’s shocking to hear news like this.’

Their conversation was interrupted again. ‘Do you not want to know why the consul has returned?’ bellowed the messenger, who was already on his fourth cup of wine. He waited as the room grew quiet once more. ‘Publius has been recalled by the Senate because he sent his army on to Iberia rather than pursuing Hannibal. They say that the Minucii want him replaced with one of their own. Tomorrow, he will attend the Curia to explain his actions.’

All thoughts of leaving Rome at dawn vanished from the pair’s heads. What did it matter if they delayed their departure for a few hours to witness this drama unfold?