Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

‘No, sir,’ Fabricius replied tersely. ‘In fact, the complete opposite. Before getting anywhere near the Carthaginian camp, we were ambushed by a hugely superior enemy force. They pursued us right to the riverbank, where a strong force of spearmen was waiting.’ He indicated Quintus. ‘We are the only survivors.’

‘I see.’ Publius’ fingers drummed on the arm of his couch. ‘How is it that you were not also killed?’

Fabricius met the consul’s scrutiny with a solid gaze. ‘Because of Quintus here.’

Publius’ brows lowered. ‘Explain.’

Prompted by his father’s nudge, Quintus told the story of how he had been recognised by a former slave of the family, whom he had befriended. He faltered when it came to explaining how Hanno had been freed, but encouraged by Publius’ nod, Quintus revealed everything.

‘That is an incredible tale,’ Publius acknowledged. ‘The gods were most merciful.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Quintus agreed fervently.

The consul looked up at his son. ‘You’re not the only one able to rescue his father,’ he joked.

The younger Publius blushed bright red.

Publius’ face turned serious. ‘So, a whole turma has been wiped out, and we know no more about Hannibal’s disposition than yesterday.’

‘That’s correct, sir,’ Fabricius admitted.

‘I see little point in sending further patrols across the Trebia. They would meet the same fate, and we have few enough cavalry as it is,’ said Publius. He pressed a finger against his lips, thinking. Then he shook his head. ‘Our main priority is to block the passage south, which we are already doing. The Carthaginians will not attack us here, because of the uneven terrain. Nothing has changed. We wait for Longus.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Fabricius concurred.

‘Very good. You may go.’ Publius waved a hand in dismissal.

Father and son made a discreet exit.

Quintus managed to contain his frustration until they were out of earshot. ‘Why doesn’t Publius do something?’ he hissed.

‘You want revenge for what happened at the ford, eh?’ asked Fabricius with a wry smile. ‘I do too.’ He bent close to Quintus’ ear. ‘I’m sure that Publius would have moved against Hannibal again if he weren’t… incapacitated. Of course he’s not going to admit that to the likes of us. For the moment, we just have to live with it.’

‘Will Longus want to fight Hannibal?’

‘I’d say so,’ replied his father with a grin. ‘A victory before the turn of the year would show the tribes that Hannibal is vulnerable. It would also reduce the number of warriors who plan on joining him. Defeating him soon would be far better than leaving it until the spring.’

Quintus prayed that his father was correct. After all the setbacks they’d suffered, it was time for the tables to be turned. The quicker that was done, the better.

Chapter XXIII: Battle Commences

Bostar waited until they’d got back to the Carthaginian camp before he launched his attack. The moment that their men had been stood down, he rounded on Hanno. ‘What the hell was that about?’ he shouted. ‘Don’t you remember our orders? We were supposed to kill them all!’

‘I know,’ muttered Hanno. The sad image of Quintus and his father riding down to the Trebia was vivid in his mind’s eye. ‘How, though, could I kill the person who had saved my life, not once, but twice?’

‘So your sense of honour is more important than a direct order given by Hannibal?’ Sapho sneered.

‘Yes. No. I don’t know,’ Hanno replied. ‘Leave me alone!’

‘Sapho!’ Bostar snapped.

Sapho raised his hands and stepped back. ‘Let’s see what the general says when we report to him.’ He made a face. ‘I presume that you are going to tell him?’

Hanno felt a towering fury take hold. ‘Of course I am!’ he cried. ‘I’ve got nothing to hide. What, were you going to tell Hannibal if I didn’t?’ His mouth opened as Sapho flushed. ‘Sacred Tanit, you fucking were! Where did you get to be so poisonous? No wonder Bostar doesn’t like you any more.’ He saw Sapho’s shock, and despite his anger, felt instant shame. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s a bit late,’ retorted Sapho. ‘Why should I be surprised that you’ve been talking about me behind my back? You little dirtbag!’

Hanno flushed and hung his head.

‘I’ll see you at the general’s tent,’ said Sapho sourly. ‘We’ll see what Hannibal thinks of what you’ve done then.’ Pulling his cloak tighter around himself, he walked away.

‘Sapho! Come back!’ Hanno shouted.

‘Let him go,’ advised Bostar.

‘Why is he being like that?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Bostar, looking away.

Now you’re the one who’s lying, thought Hanno, but he didn’t have the heart to interrogate his older brother. Soon he would have to explain his actions to Hannibal. ‘Come on,’ he said anxiously. ‘We’d best get this over with.’

Hanno was relieved to find that Sapho had not entered Hannibal’s tent, but was waiting outside for them. Zamar, the Numidian officer was there too. Announcing themselves to the guards, they were ushered inside.

Hanno slipped to Sapho’s side. ‘Thank you.’

Sapho gave him a startled look. ‘For what?’