Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

There was a momentary pause. Each of them had reconnoitred the ground around the crossing point several times. The left flank was taken up by a dense patch of oak trees, while the right was a large swampy area. Neither constituted ground that horses would choose to ride over if given the choice. The best place to stand was on the track that led to the ford. That was where any action would take place.

As the youngest and most inexperienced, Hanno was content to take whichever of the flanks he was given.

‘I’ll take the central side,’ said Bostar abruptly.

‘Typical,’ muttered Sapho. ‘I want it as well. And you don’t outrank me any more, remember?’

The two glowered at each other.

‘This is ridiculous,’ said Hanno angrily. ‘It doesn’t matter which one of you does it.’

Neither of his brothers answered.

‘Why don’t you toss a coin?’

Still neither Bostar nor Sapho spoke.

‘Melqart above!’ exclaimed Hanno. ‘I’ll do it, then.’

‘That’s out of the question,’ snapped Sapho. ‘You’ve got no combat experience.’

‘Exactly,’ added Bostar.

‘I’ve got to start somewhere. Why not here?’ Hanno retorted. ‘Better this, surely, than in a massive battle?’

Bostar looked at Sapho. ‘We can’t stand around arguing all morning,’ he said in a conciliatory tone.

Sapho gave a careless shrug. ‘It would be hard for Hanno to get it wrong, I suppose.’

Feeling humiliated, Hanno looked down.

‘That’s unnecessary,’ barked Bostar. ‘Father has trained Hanno well. Hannibal himself picked him to lead a phalanx. His men are veterans. The chances of him fucking up are no greater than if I were in the centre.’ He paused. ‘Or you were.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Sapho’s eyes were mere slits.

‘Stop it!’ Hanno cried. ‘You should both be ashamed of yourselves. Hannibal gave us a job to do, remember? Let’s just do it, please.’

Like sulky children, his brothers broke eye contact. In silence, they stalked off to stand before their phalanxes. Hanno waited for a moment before realising that it was up to him to lead the way. ‘Form up, six men wide,’ he ordered. ‘Follow me.’ He was pleased by his soldiers’ rapid response. Many of them looked pleased by what had happened, which encouraged him further.

The three phalanxes deployed at the ford, in open order. Once they closed up, the spearmen would present a continuous front of overlapping shields. No horse would approach such an obstacle. The forest of spears protruding from it promised death by impalement to anyone foolish enough to try.

Hanno marched up and down, muttering encouraging words to his men. He was grateful that his father had advised him to recognise as many of his soldiers as possible. It was a simple ruse, yet not a man failed to grin when Hanno spoke to him by name. His efforts didn’t take long, though, and soon time began to drag. Muscles that had been stirred into activity by their movement into position grew cold again. A damp breeze blew off the river, chilling the waiting soldiers to the bone. Allowing them to warm up was not an option, nor was singing, a common method of raising morale.

All they could do was wait.

Dawn came, but banks of lowering cloud concealed the sun. The sole sign of life was the occasional small bird fluttering among the trees’ bare branches; the only sound the murmur of the river at their backs. Finally, Hanno’s grumbling belly made him wonder if they should order an issue of rations. Before he could query this with his brothers, the sound of galloping hooves attracted everyone’s attention. All eyes turned to the track leading west.

When two Numidians came thundering around the corner, there was a massed intake of breath.

‘They’re coming!’ one shouted as he drew nearer.

‘With five hundred of our comrades hot on their tails!’ whooped the other.

Hanno scarcely heard. ‘Close order!’ he screamed. ‘Ready spears!’

Chapter XXII: Face to Face

Quintus had hoped that his unease would dissipate as they left the Trebia behind them. Far from it. Each step that his horse took further into the empty landscape felt as final as if he had crossed the Styx to penetrate the depths of Hades itself. The eagerness he’d felt in his father’s tent, with a belly full of wine, had totally vanished. Quintus said nothing, but a glance to either side confirmed that he was not alone in his feelings. The other riders’ faces spoke volumes. Many were throwing filthy glances at Flaccus. Everyone knew that he was responsible for their misfortune.