“How did you meet Scipio?” I asked as we proceeded down the beach.
“I met him in Spain from opposite sides of a battlefield. His tactics impressed me from the first, but he did something early in his time there that made me think he was something special.”
“What was that?”
“When I first went to Spain, my cousin, Massiva, not yet fifteen years of age, begged to come with me. Against my better judgment, I brought him, but forbade him to take part in combat. I told him he should first learn the life of a warrior before putting his life on the line.
“I had a position as captain of a contingent of cavalry under the command of Hannibal’s brother Hasdrubal. We engaged Scipio near Baecula. Scipio’s strategy fooled us badly. We suffered a horrible defeat. Without my knowledge, Massiva had slipped out of camp with a horse and a sword to join the battle. He fell from his horse and was captured while the more fortunate of us made a hasty retreat. I didn’t know that my cousin was missing until we made camp in the woods that night. When I went to seek him out, I was told he had been killed.
“A week later Massiva rode into camp on a Roman horse, wearing a new tunic, a gold broach, and a fine Spanish cloak. He told me that when Scipio learned that a young Numidian prince had been captured, he had him brought to his tent. On learning his name, Scipio asked him about me, complimenting my skill on the battlefield. At the end of the evening, he released Massiva because of his youth, then gave him a horse and a new tunic.”
“Scipio is an interesting man, Masinissa. He’s not your usual Roman. Like you and I, he has been introduced to Greek literature and science.”
“I admire the man,” said Masinissa with pride. “I feel honored to fight by his side. The way I feel tonight I’m certain I’ll regain my kingdom.”
We walked on for a short distance without saying anything more. Masinissa was the first to break the silence. “When you were here before, I spoke of a woman, Sophonisba.”
“Yes, of course. Isn’t that the same woman who has just married Syphax?”
Masinissa looked out at the sea. “Yes,” he said with clear resentment. “And it only gives me more incentive to conquer Carthage and take back my kingdom. I would have preferred that she not have shared his wedding bed.” Masinissa shook his head sadly in anguish of not being Sophonisba’s first lover. “But I still intend to make her my queen.” His anger spiked behind the words.
Another long spell of silence passed between us. “What about you, Timon? It may be that my heart is broken, but you had two loves.” Masinissa grinned in the moonlight. “Is that three now?”
I laughed. “No, I narrowed it down to one since I last saw you. I chose the farm girl, Moira, if you remember her name. She’s as beautiful as the Sicilian farmland where she lives. When the war is over, I will return to Sicily to marry her.”
“What of the other woman, whose name was so lovely to pronounce?”
“Sem-pro-nia,” I said, saying the syllables one by one, thinking of her alone in Rome. “Her situation is difficult. I’ll continue to worry about her no matter how happy I am with Moira.”
Masinissa nodded. “Then you are a better man than most, Timon. The men I know care more for the horses they’ve left behind than the women they’ve loved.”
“Is that how you are?”
“Sophonisba might think so, but it’s not true.” Again the anger rose in his voice. “You watch. I will be faithful and she will be mine.”
CHAPTER 68
The next week was spent moving the camp and our equipment to an elevated location about a mile southwest of Utica. During that time Scipio received a report that the Carthaginians had assembled four thousand cavalry inside the city of Salaeca, twenty-five miles inland, almost directly south of where we were. It seemed the Carthaginian strategy was to gather as many soldiers in the vicinity as possible, in preparation for the arrival of Syphax and his troops.
Scipio sent Masinissa to Salaeca for reconnaissance. I went with him and ten others from his contingent to further detail my map. We left early in the morning with me riding as hard as I could just to keep up with the Numidians. Our first twenty miles covered relatively flat land and we made good progress. As we neared Salaeca from the north, we had to slow our pace. The terrain became rockier and small ridges and hillocks rose up across the African plains like large, awkward animals that had surfaced from beneath the ground.
Our route led us through a narrow pass between two parallel ridges. As we exited from the defile, we spotted Salaeca. The rest of the way to the small fortress was flat and open. Any further advance would put us in plain sight from the battlements. I suggested we seek a position of higher elevation to get as wide a view of the area as possible. Masinissa and I left our horses with the other riders and climbed to the top of the east ridge.
I had promised Scipio that I would not show the spyglass to anyone else, but with the situation so perfect, I decided to give the Numidian prince a lesson in its use. Like all who first used the device, Masinissa didn’t quite understand what he was seeing. I believe he thought he was looking at something inside the tubes, but as I directed him to look at different objects, he began to realize that the spyglass was not some kind of magic trick. I told him not to mention it to anyone, even Scipio, and that he could ask to use it whenever he was with me, as long as he was careful not to make a show of it.
I made a few sightings and sketched the topography as far as I could see. We didn’t stay long and were soon on our way back to Utica. We arrived in camp at dusk and immediately met with Scipio, Lucius, and Cato to discuss what we had seen.
Masinissa and the other officers watched as I extended the detail of our existing map to include the region we had just scouted. Scipio commented in Latin and Greek as I proceeded with the work. Masinissa interjected his thoughts in Greek. Cato and Lucius used Latin. By the time I had completed my additions to the map, Scipio had devised a plan.
“This terrain gives us the perfect opportunity for an ambush,” said Scipio pointing to the two ridges outside Salaeca. “We will leave tomorrow morning with the Twenty-third legion and two hundred of Masinissa’s Numidians. We should be able to make it there by midafternoon the following day. We will position the infantry so that they are hidden at the far end of the pass.” Everything he said, he said twice—in Greek and in Latin.
“Masinissa, you will take your two hundred men and ride directly up to the walls of Salaeca. Toss your javelins, shout insults, do whatever you can to taunt the soldiers inside, then ride away. If they don’t immediately come after you, do it again—advance and retreat. I believe the officer in charge is Hannibal’s second youngest brother Hanno. He spent some time in Spain with Hasdrubal. His reputation is nothing like that of his older brothers. He tends to be a bit impetuous. I want you to draw him out—even if it takes ten sorties.”
This was what Hannibal had done so many times when I was with Marcellus. The Numidians on their quick and agile garrons would advance to the edge of our camp, toss their darts, then ride away, only to come back to do it again, always stirring up the soldiers and creating a lot of frustration in the camp.
“If Hanno takes our bait, Masinissa, he will gather his cavalry to chase you off. Once that happens, I want you to turn tail and head back to these two ridges. Lead your men and Hanno’s right between them. When you reach the far end of the pass, where our troops are waiting, turn and confront Hanno and his riders. We will collapse on them from both sides. Cato, you’ll be stationed on the left with half the men.” He pointed to the map. “Lucius, you’ll be on the right with the other half.”
“What if we can’t draw them out?” asked Masinissa.
“Keep at it until you do. Take greater chances. Incite them in any way you can. Insult their gods or their mothers.”
“This seems like a cheap trick, General,” said Cato. “Like something Hannibal might try. I don’t believe it’s the way Roman soldiers are meant to fight.”
Scipio looked u
p from the map and glared at Cato. “I think we learned a long time ago, Quaestor, that we must fight Hannibal in the same manner he fights us—whether it’s Roman or not. In my mind, only one thing is truly Roman in warfare—and that’s victory. Any questions?”
“Our time would be better spent investing Utica, General.” Cato’s hackles seemed to rise every time he clashed with Scipio. “Isn’t a secure base for the winter more important than anything we might gain in Salaeca?”
“No,” snapped Scipio. “Anything else?”
Cato’s red face darkened to violet, but he said nothing and stared at the ground.
“Good,” said Scipio. “Inform your men. We leave at the first light tomorrow. We’ll march at double time the first day so the second day is not so demanding. Bring plenty of water.”
CHAPTER 69
I traveled to Salaeca with Scipio and the Twenty-third legion as part of my continuing effort to know and map North Africa. Troglius, whose tent unit I had lobbied to join, was also with us as part of the Twenty-third. When we reached the two ridges, perhaps two miles of open plain from Salaeca, I climbed the eastern ridge to observe. Lucius and Cato positioned their men behind the ridges. Masinissa led his Numidians through the pass and up to the walls of the fortress. Four times they rode up to the city gates to toss their darts and shout insults at the Carthaginians.
At first the soldiers inside resorted to shooting arrows at the marauding Numidians, but Masinissa only allowed his men to get close enough to be targeted, yet not so close as to be easily struck, before turning and riding away. Each time they advanced, more soldiers came to the walls until it seemed the entire city was standing along the battlements, shouting at the Numidian riders and using anything from small catapults to javelins to counter their sorties.
On the fifth advance, when Masinissa’s men made their most daring approach to the walls, the main gate swung open and the entire four thousand horse cavalry burst forth in a wild charge with Hanno at the lead. The Carthaginians’ long-striding war horses were faster on open ground than the smaller garrons, but the Numidians knew what they were doing. They zigzagged across the plain in small clusters, not clearly headed toward the pass until Hanno’s men had nearly caught up with them. Then they closed ranks and made a quick zag between the two ridges.
Hanno’s cavalry was right on Masinissa’s tail when they reached the far end of the pass. Our men fell on Hanno from both sides. The numbers were considerably smaller, but the devastation was as complete as Hannibal’s ambush on the shore of Lake Trasimene. More than half the Carthaginian force was killed in the initial assault, including Hanno. Another hundred or so were run down as they tried to escape.
Without Hanno, and the majority of the Carthaginian garrison dead or hiding in the hills, Salaeca’s city council surrendered to Scipio as soon as we assembled outside the gates. Scipio remained in Salaeca three more days. During that time, he conferred gifts from the plunder upon those officers or legionnaires who had shown the most courage during the engagement. Masinissa received the most valuable gifts and the most praise for his effort. This was the first time he had fought for a Roman general, and it only enhanced his reputation for horsemanship on the battlefield.
The ambush was also Troglius’ first action for Scipio, and his first since the flogging. Apparently he had recovered fully. His capacity with a gladius was not missed by Scipio nor his fellow legionnaires. He was another of the soldiers significantly rewarded for his actions in the ambush.
CHAPTER 70
Scipio left a small garrison in Salaeca, then led us through the countryside in a week-long campaign of devastation and plunder. We collected what grain and fruit we could carry, then destroyed the rest of the crops and any small villages we encountered, intent on filling the region with fear at the mere mention of Scipio’s name much as Hannibal’s name had in Italy.
The ships that had been sent to Sicily with the first load of booty returned to the camp outside Utica the same day we did. They were reloaded the following morning with the plunder we had just collected. I was part of the team of scribes that filled out the shipping orders. We set up a small, open tent on the beach with a table and some stools to facilitate the process. Late in afternoon, when we were nearly done, I noticed an unusually young legionnaire, one of the those who had been doing the loading, coming my way, and looking directly at me as he approached.
When the soldier got closer, I recognized him and stood up. “Rullo! What are you doing here?”
Rullo came up close to me and put his finger to his lips. He had grown to my height and filled out with maturing muscle since I had last seen him. A light dusting of blond hair ran along his jaw line. “When we’re done with this work, Timon,” he said, taking a quick look over his shoulder, “I must talk to you—in private.”
“Of course,” I said, wondering how this boy, barely sixteen, had managed to join the military. “Meet me outside the south gate to the camp just before the evening meal.”
“I’ll be there,” he said and walked away to continue working.
I had always liked Rullo, and felt that my friend Marcus should have given more attention to his talented, though illegitimate, son. But that was not for me to worry about now. I was eager to talk to him and see why he was there.
I found him outside the south gate just as planned. We went down to the shore and sat on two large boulders partially buried in the sand.
“How did you get into the army, Rullo? You’re at least a year short of seventeen?”
“Quintus Ennius,” he said with the crash of waves in the background and the sun low and bright in the west.
“Ennius?”
“He set everything up so I could come here.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ennius knew he could trust me and that you would too. He also knew I had tried twice to enlist in the army and had been turned away. He got me on a ship in Ostia sailing for Syracuse. From there, I talked my way onto one of these transports as soon as I learned they were coming to Scipio’s camp.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“It’s about your mother.”
“What about her?”
“Ennius saw the woman Paculla frequenting the Community of Miracles. He began to follow her to see what she was up to.”
I already knew Ennius felt the same way I did about Paculla Annia.
“He discovered she was looking for Carthaginian agents. They spend time in the community seeking information just like everyone else up there. Apparently she had something for sale.”
“About my mother? That she was in Rome?”
Rullo nodded. “And Ennius wanted you to know.”
“Is that all? Is my mother still at Marcus’ farm?”
Rullo looked down at the wet sand. “No, she was kidnapped and her slave was found dead in the Tiber. That was more than a month ago.”
“Lucretia? Dead. What about my mother?”
“Ennius believes she was taken to Hannibal. He didn’t say why. Maybe you might know.”
This was the worst possible news. I took a deep breath. “Let’s just say I have a clue. What about Marcus and the other slaves at the farm—Edeco and Meda?”
“Marcus was sent to Etruria and has been there all summer. He doesn’t know about your mother, and I’ve heard nothing about the other slaves.”
“Anything else?”
He gave me cautious look.
“What?”
“Don’t tell anyone who I am or my age. I want to be trained as a velite. I want to take part in the war.”
“I’ll keep your secret if you’ll agree to one thing.”
Rullo frowned at me.
“I have a friend I want you to meet.”
“Fine.”
Though my head swam with worry about my mother, I took Rullo to my tent. Troglius was there and I introduced him to Rullo. I told Troglius to keep an eye on Rullo and to make sure he didn’t get taken advantage of or killed.
&nbs
p; Had it been any other soldier, Rullo would have been insulted. But he sensed something special in Troglius right away, and, of course, Troglius welcomed the chance to do me a favor after what I had done for him.
I arranged for Rullo to be placed in our tent unit, and from that day on, Troglius and Rullo rapidly became friends and were rarely far apart. I, on the other hand, was in a state of utter despair. My mother, it seemed, was either dead or back in Hannibal’s camp playing her lyre in shackles. And it all went back to Paculla. Portia must have told her I called her a charlatan and fake, and then she took the information about my mother to the Carthaginians to get even. How she knew Hannibal would be interested, I hadn’t the slightest idea, but it was too late now to do anything about it. I just wished I had kept my thoughts about Paculla to myself.
CHAPTER 71
Scipio now focused all his effort on the siege of Utica. It was a well-defended city, and for forty days he tried its walls by land and by sea with no success. By this time, Hasdrubal, who had been doing everything he could to raise troops, had assembled twenty thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry outside Carthage. Syphax had raised another forty thousand foot and ten thousand horse. The two armies joined forces south of Carthage, then marched north to Utica, setting up separate camps two miles from ours.
With this huge enemy force nearby, Scipio could not risk continuing his siege of Utica, and even though his men were vastly better trained than the mass of those collected by either Hasdrubal or Syphax, he decided to pull back to a more secure location to settle in for the winter. The new camp was situated at the end of a promontory that stretched out into the sea not far from Utica. Shaped like a head on a neck, the promontory was wide where we built our camp, but narrow where it met the mainland. Only one rampart across the neck of the promontory was needed to protect us from attack by land. We beached our ships along shoreline for addition protection.
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