I went over to the Numidian camp that night to share the evening meal with Masinissa. I sat at the campfire with fifteen of Masinissa’s most loyal men and ate roasted gazelle. Three had been killed that day on the way back from the morning’s skirmishes with the Carthaginians. The camp was alive with anticipation for the morning. The meal was a celebration, a time to inspire the warrior in each man’s heart.
“I’m excited to finally fight under Scipio’s command.” Masinissa used his teeth to pull a hunk of meat from a rack of ribs. “I believe he’s of the same genius as Hannibal.”
“I have yet to see Scipio manage a set piece battle, Masinissa, but I had a few chances to observe Hannibal while I was in Italy with Marcellus. From what I’ve seen of Scipio so far—his ambush of Hanno outside Salaeca and the firing of the two camps outside Utica, I would say he has learned much from Hannibal.”
“Oh, yes, if you are familiar with what Hannibal did when he first arrived in Italy—at Ticinius and at Trebia—it was all about using the cavalry to strip the flanks. Scipio was there at both of those battles, though, I believe, only seventeen years of age. He used variations of those flanking maneuvers in Spain, against Hannibal’s brother at Baecula and against Hasdrubal Gisgo at Ilipa. I was there for both. In my opinion, Scipio is Hannibal’s best pupil.”
“Things will surely get more interesting if Hannibal returns to Africa.”
Masinissa laughed with his mouth full. “Interesting to say the least. I hunger for it as much as Scipio does.”
“You spent some time with Hannibal in Italy. What did you think of him?”
Masinissa wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “My time in his camp was short. I never fought a battle with him, but I learned more about commanding a cavalry unit in a month with his man Maharbal than I had in all my previous experience.” He used his teeth to strip another hunk of meat from the ribs. “I respect Hannibal. I would be fighting for him right now except that the only way I can regain my kingdom is by joining the Roman cause. And if we are victorious, I will ride to Siga to collect my prize.” His eyes lit. “Sophonisba!” he shouted out to the night. The others around the fire knew who she was. They raised their cups and voiced their approval with high-pitched yips and whistles.
On my return to camp, I went directly to my tent. I was tired and needed sleep. Anxiety ran high. No one in the tent unit had gone to sleep yet. Six men and one youth sat around a dying campfire, some sharpening their gladii, some adjusting the leather straps on their armor. For Troglius it could have been any night of the campaign. He always set aside time to work on his gear, whether there was a battle in the offing or not. Rullo sat quietly next to Troglius, rolling a pair of dice from one hand to the other, clearly a little on edge with his first battle looming. He had earned a position in the first line of velites and would be among those that led us into battle.
Rather than go straight into the tent to lie down, I squeezed into the circle and sat between Troglius and Rullo. Troglius acknowledged me with the glance of one eye. Rullo was so tense he didn’t even seem to notice it was me beside him.
Wanting to draw him out, I decided to start a conversation. “Troglius, I have always meant to ask you, do you fear going into battle?”
The question caused everyone at the campfire to look up.
Troglius ran his whetstone down the edge of his gladius, held the blade up to admire his work, then answered, seemingly directing his words to his sword. “No,” he said flatly. “I was not given a handsome face. Women find me so frightening that only my mother has ever kissed me.”
On any other night this might have generated a few rude remarks from the others, but on the eve of battle, Troglius, his reputation in battle now well known throughout the camp, was respected with a grave silence.
“So my love must be to my gladius,” said Troglius, turning the blade in the dim moonlight. “And it is consummated when I go into battle. I look forward to using this beauty in the same way some men look forward to bedding a woman.” Something like a smile graced his face. “There’s more than one way to part flesh for pleasure.”
I had not expected such an answer, but like everyone else around the fire, I found it chilling.
Aurelius, also a battle-tested veteran, turned to Rullo. “How about you, young man? Are you ready for tomorrow?”
Rullo had been in the army for more than a year now. He had trained with Troglius every chance available. He had also grown in height and put on more weight and muscle. His beard, which was blonde, had grown into a thick down. He was becoming a man, and though just seventeen, presented a formidable presence.
He looked up at me with worry in his eyes, then turned to Aurelius. “I feel the same way Troglius does.”
CHAPTER 84
Dilius performed the sacrificial rites to Mars at dawn. Scipio gathered his staff shortly afterward. When the eye of Jupiter peeked over the hills to the east, the Carthaginian army, totaling some thirty thousand men, filed from their two camps and assembled in battle formation. Scipio rode his horse to the top of the rise behind our camp and used the spyglass to observe the process and assess the enemy’s alignment. It was very close to what he had imagined, including the Celtibarians anchoring the center. He saw no reason to change our formation and passed this on to his commanders. The battle trumpets sounded, and our soldiers, twenty thousand foot and three thousand horse, paraded from our camps.
As was typical, both armies sent out small cavalry contingents to probe the opposition. On several occasions during the day, these advance groups engaged in minor skirmishes, but neither general signaled for a full engagement. At the end of the day, both armies retired to their camps.
Shortly after noon the following day, the two armies again paraded from their camps into battle formation, ours with some slight adjustments. At times during the day, the soldiers pounded their shields with their swords or shouted insults at the opposition, but the only action was incidental, skirmishes between contingents of cavalry and a few quick sorties from the light infantry.
The third day had a different feel. Everyone in camp was certain this would be the day for full combat. The armies took the field shortly after dawn, both sides loud and raucous, sifting their feet and pawing at the ground like eager racehorses. Hasdrubal used the same formation he had the previous two days, placing the Celtibarians in the center. A phalanx of Syphax’s infantry was placed to the right of the Celtibarians, and a phalanx of Hasdrubal’s infantry to the left. The Numidian cavalry, some four thousand, flanked Syphax’s infantry, and the Carthaginian cavalry, nearly two thousand, flanked Hasdrubal’s.
Our line held twenty thousand foot, four legions side by side, three maniples deep—hastati, principes, triarii—in the standard checkerboard formation. Masinissa’s fifteen hundred horse supported the left flank, opposite the Carthaginian cavalry. Laelius’ contingent—another fifteen hundred horse—supported the right, opposite Syphax’s cavalry. The velites stood ready in the gaps between maniples.
Syphax sat on his horse at the front of his cavalry; Hasdrubal commanded from behind the Celtibarians. Scipio, on his magnificent golden war horse, rode back and forth behind the hastati, shouting encouragement to the soldiers and instructions to his commanders. Masinissa, riding his jet black garron Chthonia, pranced back and forth before his loyal Numidians.
Scipio signaled for the battle trumpets before the opposing army made a move. Our skirmishers shouted their battle cries and raced past the hastati directly into the enemy’s onrushing light infantry, primarily raw Libyan recruits. Both sides launched their javelins, then retreated, as the two lines of heavy infantry began their steadfast march forward. I watched from the hill behind our camp with the spyglass.
When the two lines met, the Celtibarians stood strong, while the raw Libyan and Numidian recruits on either side of them struggled to hold their own against our more seasoned troops. I scanned the action with the spyglass, looking for Troglius or Rullo. I had seen Rullo in position pri
or to the start of the battle, but lost sight of him when his cohort of velites rushed forward to begin the fray. Because of his size, Troglius was easier to find. I knew where his maniple was in the formation, and despite the ongoing action, was able to focus on him for short periods of time.
As an hastatus in the Twenty-third legion, he was on the front line from the beginning to the end of the battle, standing toe to toe with the Celtibarian mercenaries, the only truly experienced phalanx in the Carthaginian line. I had witnessed several battles in which Troglius took part, but I had never been able to find him on the battlefield during combat with the handheld lenses. Now with the spyglass I could.
The battle action of a Roman legionnaire in the front line began with his shield, shoving the opposition backward with the knob or swinging it like a battering ram to create an opening. The gladius followed the shield with a straightforward thrust at the height of a man’s midsection, or less frequently, with a full swing, hacking at an arm or a neck. Troglius had mastered these moves. I watched him apply them over and over again with an animal-like ferocity. I thought of what he had said three days earlier. Could plunging a blade into a man give the same satisfaction as an act of sex? I couldn’t find it in me, but a sense of dominance was surely a part of both.
Despite being outnumbered on both flanks, our cavalry was better trained and more experienced. With the front line fully engaged, Laelius and Masinissa stripped the opposing cavalry from the right and left flanks and chased them from the battlefield, pursuing them into the surrounding hills. No longer protected on the flanks by their cavalry, the Numidian and Libyan infantry began to lose order. While the hastati held firm across the length of our line, Scipio, in a masterful move, ordered the principes to swing around from behind the hastati to the enemy’s left flank and the triarii to do the same on the right. Suddenly we were hacking at the enemy formation from three sides, and the rout had begun.
By noon, only the Celtibarians remained on the field for the opposition. Being Iberians in a foreign country they had nowhere to run and were forced to fight it out. When Laelius and Masinissa returned from their pursuit of the enemy cavalry, they went at the Celtibarians from the rear. At that point it was only a matter of time. Although the Celtibarians proven to be a formidable opponent, they were quickly massacred to a man. The day belonged to Scipio.
In many ways, it had hardly been a battle. Too many of the opposition were inexperienced. Both flanks gave way at the first sign of pressure. The Numidian and Carthaginian infantry were then cut to shreds, leaving the Celtibarians on their own. Their determined effort kept the fighting focused on the battlefield, giving the two enemy commanders an opportunity to separate themselves from the action. Hasdrubal escaped with two hundred cavalry and rode off in the direction of Carthage. Syphax broke free from the battle as soon as the right side of the line gave way. He disappeared into the hills to the west to join what was left of his cavalry.
That night Scipio called his staff into headquarters. Although the victory seemed to clarify the hopelessness of the Carthaginian position, Scipio was not in the mood for celebration and focused on the end game. With Laelius, Lucius, Cato, Ralla, and Masinissa standing shoulder to shoulder before him, and me taking notes, he paced from one side of the tent to the other, describing operations for the next day.
“We have them just where we want them,” he began. “The two armies, or what remains of them, have been dispersed in opposite directions. Tomorrow,” he looked at his two cavalry commanders, “I want Laelius and Masinissa to go after Syphax. His army is scattered and demoralized. He’s likely headed to Cirta. Take your entire cavalry and the Fifth legion and try to catch him before he gets there. The rest of us will stay here to bury the dead and collect the plunder. Once that’s done, we will sack the local villages before heading back to the coast.”
Scipio went over to the map. “We’ll set up a base of operations in Tunis,” he pointed to a location about five miles southwest of Carthage, “and prepare for an assault on the Carthaginian capital.” He looked up at Laelius and Masinissa. “When you have captured Syphax, bring him to me in Tunis—dead or alive. I want him as a trophy to display in Rome.”
CHAPTER 85
I got back to the tent late. One of the members of our unit had been killed. The remaining six were shooting dice beside the campfire. None showed any obvious wounds. A torch mounted on a wooden staff had been jammed into the ground to provide light to see the dice. I noticed right away that Rullo only had a few coins piled on the ground before him, but he was laughing and enjoying himself with the others, caught up in the celebration of the overwhelming victory.
I stood in the shadows outside the circle of players for some time watching the game. One thing became clear very quickly. Rullo was not switching the dice, and it was reflected in his winnings or lack thereof. I knelt behind Troglius and whispered over his shoulder.
“How’s the game going?”
Troglius, rarely given to smiling, turned to me with a grin and winked his left eye, something I had never seen him do before, then leaned back so that I could see the stacks of coins in front of him.
I acknowledged his winnings with a nod, then asked, “Any serious wounds?”
Troglius lifted his arm to show me a long gash in his forearm that he hadn’t bothered to wrap, then pushed two silver coins into the circle, betting against Aurelius who needed to match a ten. Rullo pushed three bronze coins out to bet with the shooter.
Aurelius shook the dice in his fist and rolled them out beneath the torch light. One hit the ground and stopped, showing a six. The second bounced and tumbled to a stop with a one uppermost. Aurelius had lost. Troglius raked more coins into his pile.
Rullo, on the opposite side of the circle, got up from his knees to go into the tent. I intercepted him at the tent entrance.
“I see you survived, Rullo. What did you think of your first battle?”
The seventeen-year-old grinned. “I have never done anything more thrilling.”
“Not even winning at dice?”
“There’s no comparison. Dice is a game. War is life and death.”
“I watched from afar. I saw you enter the battle, then lost track of you.”
He nodded, still grinning. “We had them on the run from the start. I threw my two javelins and was never needed again.”
“Things don’t always go so easily.”
“I know that,” he said. “But there’s no army in the world that can stand up to ours. I’ve heard others say that we’re the strongest and most disciplined army Rome has ever mustered.”
“I hope so. If things go as Scipio has predicted, the next battle will be with Hannibal. That will be something entirely different.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“No injuries? No cuts or bruises?”
He extended his arms to show that he had been untouched by the whim of battle.
“It seems you have traded your luck with dice for luck on the battlefield.”
He lowered his head, then looked up sheepishly and whispered. “I took your advice, Timon.” He glanced around to make sure that no one could hear him. “There’s no sense in provoking the gods’ disfavor by cheating at dice.”
I laughed. “Seems you’re getting wiser every day.”
“I’m not so sure,” he muttered. “I’ve lost a lot of money tonight, and now I’m going back to my bedroll for more—instead of turning in for the night.”
“Tonight is for celebration. Just imagine that you’re giving back your ill-gotten gains.”
CHAPTER 86
When news of the battle’s outcome reached Carthage, the city went into an even greater panic than after the camps outside Utica had been burned to the ground. Hasdrubal warned the Council of Elders that Scipio would soon be at the city gates and that they must immediately begin preparations for his arrival, beginning with arming the populace and rebuilding any portions of the city walls that were in disrepair. Hanno’s position had not cha
nged; it was time to sue for peace. But the majority of the Council was against surrender of any kind, and instead voted to recall Hannibal and continue the war. Delegations were immediately dispatched to Italy with orders for both Hannibal and Mago to return to Africa. The Council also gave Hasdrubal permission to assemble a fleet to be sent to Utica, hoping to break the siege before Scipio returned from the Great Plains.
After a week of terrorizing the countryside, Scipio collected his troops and headed back to the coast. The five-day march required eight due to the quantity of plunder weighing down the baggage train. Halfway into the journey, Scipio decided to send the war prisoners and booty straight to Utica to be loaded onto transport ships, so that the rest of the troops could reach Tunis more quickly.
Tunis had been stripped of its garrison to build the Carthaginian army just defeated, and when the populace learned that Scipio was coming, they quickly evacuated to seek protection within the walls of Carthage. Scipio entered what was essentially an empty city and immediately set his men to upgrading the fortifications.
Our first full day in Tunis, Scipio requested I accompany him to the top of the city’s highest tower. Carthage was just visible on the far side of Lake Tunis. Scipio used the spyglass to get a closer look at the city he planned to besiege. While Scipio analyzed the city’s defenses, he noticed that a fleet of warships—he counted fifty—was preparing to leave Carthage. At first he thought they were coming to Tunis, but when the first ships sailed from the harbor, they turned north.
Scipio immediately realized that the Carthaginian fleet was headed to Utica, where his ships were anchored in the harbor laden with siege equipment and were in no way prepared to enter into a sea battle. Fearing he could lose his warships and his transports, Scipio assembled half of our infantry and one thousand cavalry and took off for Utica at double time.
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