Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

Finally, Publius opened his mouth. ‘As I speak, the greatest threat to Rome since the barbarian Brennus approaches us through the Alps.’ He let his shocking words sink in. ‘Yet instead of letting me fulfil my duty, that of defending the Republic, you would have me return to explain my actions. Well, I am here.’ Publius extended his arms, as if to welcome interrogation, and fell silent.

A deluge of questions followed. Practically half the senators present tried to speak at the same time. Many of their queries involved Brennus, the Gaulish chieftain who had led his fearsome warriors to the Capitoline Hill itself, and sacked Rome. In the process, he had left a weeping sore deep in the Roman psyche, a source of eternal shame. Fabricius did not know if Hannibal was truly that dangerous, but merely by mentioning Brennus, Publius had scored the first points. Before the Minucii could make a single accusation, the Senate’s attention had been neatly diverted to something far more primeval.

Publius wasn’t finished. Lifting a hand, he waited for quiet. ‘I want to know why I was summoned here. Only then will I tell you anything of Hannibal and the enormous Carthaginian army which follows him.’

Cries and protests filled the air, but Publius simply folded his arms and sat back on his chair.

Second round to Publius, thought Fabricius. His respect for the consul was growing by the moment.

Both young men were up late the next morning. A brief visit to the public baths helped to ease their pounding heads. Fortunately, both also had the wits to drink copious amounts of water. Relieving themselves was not an issue: all they had to do was dart up one of the many alleyways that contained dung heaps. Breakfasting on bread and cheese, they made their way to the Forum Romanum. Naturally enough, conversation was limited until they reached their destination.

Quintus soaked up the sight of the long, rectangular space. ‘It used to be a marsh, but now it’s the largest open area within the city walls. This is the heart of the Republic,’ he said proudly. ‘The centre of religious, ceremonial and commercial life. People come here to socialise, to watch court cases or gladiator fights, and to hear important public announcements.’

‘It has a lot in common with the Agora,’ said Hanno politely. Although it’s not half as big, he thought.

Hundreds of shops lined the Forum’s perimeter. They ranged from ordinary butchers, fishmongers and bakers to the grander premises of lawyers, scribes and moneylenders. Crowds of people thronged the whole area.

Quintus had been taught the Forum’s layout. ‘There are the shrines of Castor and Pollux, and Saturn,’ he cried as they walked along. ‘And the circular temple of the Vestal Virgins.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Hanno, pointing at a grubby building along the northern side of the Forum.

‘I think it’s the comitium,’ Quintus replied. ‘It’s a temple which was built during the foundation of Rome more than five hundred years before.’ His voice lowered. ‘Inside it is the lapis niger, a stubby pillar of black stone which marks the spot where Romulus, the founder of Rome, ascended to heaven. Beside is the rostra, the speaker’s platform, which is decorated with the prows of captured ships.’ Quintus flushed and fell silent. The most recent additions were from Carthaginian triremes that had been captured in the last war.

Realising, Hanno glowered.

The friends soon discovered that they had arrived just after Publius had entered the Curia, but consoled themselves with the fact that they would be close at hand when he emerged. Huge crowds were already present. The news about Hannibal had spread all over the city by now. Everyone in Rome wanted to know what would happen next. Wild rumours swept from one end of the gathering to the other.

‘Hannibal has a host of more than a hundred and fifty thousand men,’ cried a man with red-rimmed eyes.

‘He has a hundred elephants, and twenty-five thousand Numidian cavalry,’ wailed another.

‘They say that Philip of Macedon has mobilised his army and is about to attack us from the northeast,’ shot back the first man. ‘He’s going to join with the Carthaginians.’

‘So is every tribe in Cisalpine Gaul,’ added a third voice.

Hanno’s anger over the rostra was replaced by delight. If only a fraction of the gossip was true, Rome faced a catastrophe of enormous proportions. He glanced at Quintus, who was staring rigidly at the Curia, pretending to ignore what was being said.

An awkward silence fell.