Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

‘Don’t worry,’ Aurelia cried. ‘My horse can carry both of us.’

His expression was bleak. ‘Where to, though? My leg will take months to heal, if it does at all.’

‘To the farm,’ she replied boldly. ‘I will tell Mother and Agesandros that I found you wandering in the woods. I couldn’t just leave you to die.’

‘He might remember me,’ Suniaton protested.

She squeezed his hand. ‘He won’t. You look terrible. Totally different from that day in Capua.’

Suniaton scowled. ‘It’s obvious that I am an escaped slave.’

‘But there won’t be any way of proving who you are,’ Aurelia cried in triumph. ‘You can act mute.’

‘Will that work?’ he asked with a dubious frown.

‘Of course,’ Aurelia declared robustly. ‘And when you’re better, you can leave.’

A spark of hope lit in Suniaton’s weary eyes. ‘If you’re sure,’ he whispered.

‘I am,’ Aurelia replied, patting his hand. Inside, however, she was terrified.

What other choice had they, though? her mind screamed.

More than two weeks later, Quintus was wandering through the camp with Calatinus and Cincius. The general mood had been improved dramatically seven days before by the arrival of Tiberius Sempronius Longus, the second consul. His army, which consisted of two legions and more than 10,000 socii, infantry and cavalry, had swelled the Roman forces to nearly 40,000 men.

Inevitably enough, the trio found their feet taking them in the direction of the camp headquarters. So far, there had been little news of what Longus, who had assumed control of all Republican forces, planned to do about Hannibal.

‘He’ll have been encouraged by what happened yesterday,’ declared Calatinus. ‘Our cavalry and velites gave the guggas a hiding that they won’t forget in a hurry.’

‘Stupid bastards got what was coming to them,’ said Cincius. ‘The Gauls are supposed to be their allies. If they go pillaging local settlements, it’s natural that the tribesmen will come looking for help.’

‘There were heavy enemy casualties,’ Quintus admitted, ‘but I’m not sure it was the total victory Longus is claiming.’

Both of his friends looked at him in astonishment.

‘Think about it,’ urged Quintus. It was what his father had said to him when he’d raved about the engagement. ‘We had the upper hand from the start, but things changed immediately once Hannibal came on the scene. The Carthaginians held their ground then, didn’t they?’

‘So what?’ Cincius responded. ‘They lost three times more men than we did!’

‘Aren’t you pleased that we finally got the better of them?’ demanded Calatinus.

‘Of course I am,’ said Quintus. ‘We shouldn’t underestimate Hannibal, that’s all.’

Cincius snorted derisively. ‘Longus is an experienced general. And in my book, any man who can march his army more than a thousand miles in less than six weeks shows considerable ability.’

‘You’ve seen Longus a few times since his arrival. The man positively exudes energy,’ added Calatinus. ‘He’s keen for a fight too.’

‘You’re right,’ said Quintus at last. ‘Our troops are better fed, and better armed than Hannibal’s. We outnumber the Carthaginians too.’

‘We just need the right opportunity,’ declared Cincius.

‘That will come,’ said Calatinus. ‘All the recent omens have been good.’

Quintus grinned. It was impossible not to feel enthused by his friends’ words, and the recent change in their fortunes. As always when Quintus thought of the enemy, an image of Hanno popped into his mind. He shoved it away.

There was a war on.

Friendship with a Carthaginian had no place in his heart any longer.

Several days passed, and the weather grew dramatically worse. The biting wind came incessantly from the north, bringing with it heavy showers of sleet and snow. Combined with the shortened daylight, it made for a miserable existence. Hanno saw little of either his father or brothers. The Carthaginian soldiers huddled in their tents, shivering and trying to stay warm. Even venturing outside to answer a call of nature meant getting soaked to the skin or chilled to the bone.

Hanno was stunned, therefore, by the news that Sapho brought one afternoon. ‘We’ve had word from Hannibal!’ he hissed. ‘We move out tonight.’

‘In weather like this?’ asked Hanno incredulously. ‘Are you mad?’

‘Maybe.’ Sapho grinned. ‘If I am, though, so too is Hannibal. He has ordered Mago himself to lead us.’

‘You and Bostar?’

Sapho nodded grimly. ‘Plus five hundred skirmishers, and a thousand Numidian cavalry.’

Hanno smiled to cover his disappointment at not also being picked. ‘Where are you going?’

‘While we’ve been hiding in our tents, Hannibal has been scouting the whole area. He discovered a narrow river that runs across the plain,’ Sapho revealed. ‘It’s bounded on both sides by steep, heavily overgrown banks. We have to lie in wait there until the opportunity comes – if it comes – to fall upon the Roman rear.’

‘What makes Hannibal think that they’ll cross the river?’

Sapho’s expression grew fierce. ‘He plans to irritate them into doing so.’

‘That means using the Numidians,’ guessed Hanno.