Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

When Quintus looked up, he quailed. Most of the nearby Roman riders had been cut down. The others were fleeing. There was no sign of Calatinus, Cincius or his father. Quintus’ vision was filled with Gauls. Behind them came hundreds of Iberians. He would be dead long before those riders arrived, however. Three Gaulish warriors were heading straight for him. Despairing, Quintus picked the man he thought would reach him first. It would make little difference, but he didn’t care. His father was dead, and the cavalry battle half lost. What did it matter if he also fell? Raising his spear, Quintus screamed a final cry of defiance. ‘Come on, then, you bastards!’

The trio of warriors roared an inarticulate response.

A horrifying image of his own head as a trophy filled his mind. He banished the image. Just let the end be quick, Quintus prayed.

Chapter XXV: Unexpected Tactics

Bostar had barely been able to contain himself since the sentry’s report that the enemy were crossing the river. He and Sapho had clambered up the bank to lie beside Mago, who was trembling with excitement. With every nerve stretched taut, they’d watched as the Roman cavalry and velites were gradually followed by the allied infantry and the regular legionaries. Only then did it sink in.

‘The Roman commander has no interest in nibbling at the bait,’ muttered Mago excitedly. ‘He’s swallowed it in one great bite. That’s his whole fucking army!’

They exchanged nervous grins.

‘The fighting will start soon,’ said Sapho eagerly.

‘It’s not time to move yet,’ interjected Bostar at once.

‘That’s right. We have to wait until the perfect moment to fall upon the Romans’ rear,’ warned Mago. ‘Moving too early could cost us the battle.’

Knowing that Mago was correct, the brothers reluctantly stayed put. The wait that followed was the longest of Bostar’s life. Mago’s incessant twitching and the savagery with which Sapho bit his nails told him that they felt the same way. It was no more than three to four hours, but at the time it seemed like an eternity. Naturally, the news that the Romans were on the move had spread through their two thousand soldiers like wildfire. Soon it became difficult to keep them silent. It was understandable, thought Bostar. There was only so long that one could take pleasure in being out of harm’s way rather than facing mortal danger – especially when one’s comrades were about to fight for their lives.

Even when the clash of arms became audible, Mago did not move. Bostar forced himself to remain calm. The rival forces of skirmishers would meet first, and then pull back. Sure enough, the screams and cries soon abated. They were replaced by the unmistakable sound of thousands of feet tramping the ground in unison.

‘The Roman infantry are advancing,’ said Mago in an undertone. ‘Melqart, watch over our men.’

A knot of tension formed in Bostar’s belly. Facing so many of the enemy would be terrifying.

Beside him, Sapho shifted uneasily. ‘The gods protect Father and Hanno,’ he whispered. Their enmity momentarily forgotten, Bostar muttered the same prayer.

The crashing sound that reached their ears a moment later was as deafening as thunder. Yet there were no threatening storm clouds above, no flashes of lightning to sear their eyeballs. It was something altogether more lethal. More terrifying. Bostar trembled to hear it. He had witnessed terrible things since the war started: the immense block of stone that had nearly killed Hannibal; the scenes at the fall of Saguntum; avalanches sweeping away scores of screaming men in the Alps. But he had never heard the sound of tens of thousands of soldiers striking each other for the first time. It promised death in any number of appalling ways, and Hanno and his father were caught up in it. Somehow Bostar kept still, trying his best to block out the screams that were now discernible amid the crescendo of sound. His tactic didn’t work for long. He looked at Mago, who gave him a tiny encouraging nod.

‘Is it time yet, sir?’ Bostar asked.

Mago’s eyes glittered eagerly. ‘Soon. Prepare your men to move out. Tell the same to the officer commanding the Numidians. At my signal, bring them up.’

‘Yes, sir!’ Bostar and Sapho grinned at each other as they hadn’t done in an age, and hurried to obey.