They were reluctant, but took me into the camp. That I was a Greek certainly helped. The process within the camp was no easier. I was questioned by a Carthaginian officer and told that Hannibal was too busy for visitors. Fortunately I managed to convince him to pass one simple message on to Hannibal: Arathia’s son is here to talk to you. The son of a spy, I thought to myself, what had I to lose but my life!
The officer left me in the company of three guards and went off to give Hannibal my message. He was back almost immediately. The three guards took me directly to Hannibal.
I was shaking with fear when I was pushed into the tent by one of the guards. I stumbled and fell on the ground.
“Arathia’s son,” said a deep voice. “How fortunate we should meet again.” Hannibal stood over me and laughed. His cavalry captain Maharbal watched from the far side of the tent. Both men had aged noticeably in the four years since I had last seen them. Hannibal’s beard and hair were more gray than black.
“Yes, sir,” I said, climbing to my feet. “Quite fortunate for you.”
Hannibal frowned. “Why’s that?”
“I come from Scipio’s camp. I’m his mapmaker.”
“What could you possibly know that we don’t already? Scipio just gave my scouts a tour of his camp.” Hannibal turned to Maharbal. “This is the son of our captured spy. The woman with the beautiful singing voice.”
Maharbal seemed puzzled. “Then why is he still alive?”
Hannibal grinned, despite the strain in his face. “Tell me, Timon, why shouldn’t I kill you right now?”
“Do you recall, sir, that I said I had been a slave for Archimedes.”
“Yes, of course.”
“When we met in Metapontum, you asked me about the war machines that Archimedes had used against the Romans in Syracuse. Then you asked me if I could build one of the mirror arrays that focused sunlight into fire.”
Hannibal lifted his head in interest.
“I was recruited by Scipio because of what I learned from Archimedes. I went to Syracuse with him and spent a year there before coming to Africa. During that time I returned to Archimedes’ workshop and found a few of his documents that had not been destroyed in the siege. One was a set of engineering drawings describing just such a parabolic array, with directions for building it.”
Hannibal turned again to Maharbal, then back to me. “Go on.”
“I want to trade the drawings for my mother’s freedom.”
Hannibal didn’t hesitate. “Let me see these drawings.”
“I don’t have them with me. I have hidden them in a location within walking distance of here. They’re yours if you allow me to leave here with my mother.”
Hannibal was clearly intrigued. He paced back and forth a few times in front of me. “Can you build the device?”
“No. Nor could you without a well outfitted workshop, a crew of top notch craftsmen, and a scholar with exceptional knowledge of geometry.”
“Then what good are these drawings?” demanded Maharbal. “We’re wasting time with this Greek, Hannibal. I say kill him now. Spies make me nervous.” He took his short sword from his belt.
Hannibal raised his hand. “Hold on, Maharbal. I like this young man’s bravado.” He appraised me with his one good eye. “You have come here at great risk, Timon. You have put your life on the line to free your mother. Even though she deceived me, and used my kindness to draw information from me—to be passed on to Claudius Nero—perhaps by you,” his eyes met mine, “I still value her, and even have some respect for her. She’s an individual of tremendous courage, as it seems you are too.
“Here’s my offer. I will trade your mother for these diagrams. Not because I believe they can help me win this war, but because they are valuable simply as pieces of Archimedes’ work—and also because of Scipio’s treatment of my scouts yesterday.” He smiled. “I have been impressed by this young Roman general. He must be very confident. I would like the opportunity to meet him. I want you to tell him that.”
I nodded.
“Good. I will have your mother brought to this tent. Then your mother, you and I, and Sosylus will go to where you have hidden the diagrams. Sosylus and I will review them. If they are authentic, you and your mother will be free to go.”
I felt my whole body go weak. “Yes, sir.”
He smiled, a genuine smile. “You will take my request to Scipio. Tell him that I would like to talk to him—face to face—alone—before our armies murder each other.” Hannibal laughed. “Tell him I have gained a certain admiration for him, and welcome the chance to meet such a man.”
“What if he declines?”
“Our arrangement does not hinge on his response, only on your delivering my message in the best possible manner you can. I believe you will be able to do that better than any other emissary I could send. You know the man. Make my offer in a way that allows him to accept it.”
“And should you talk to him, I have one request.”
Hannibal laughed at my moxie. “And that is?”
“Do not mention the diagrams or my mother. He does not know about the weapon, my mother, or that I have come here on my own. I will have to lie about all of these things to properly deliver your message. I will tell him that I got too close to your camp while working on my map, and that I was caught. You let me go because he let your scouts go. If he learns that I was here to make a deal with you, I will be called a traitor and summarily executed. Can you protect me in this?”
Hannibal chuckled at my request, then turned to Maharbal. “A lad with some rather large ones.”
Maharbal found no humor in the situation. “I think we should kill him right now. And forget this talk of yours with Scipio.”
“No, that’s something I want to do. Scipio intrigues me.” He turned to me. “I won’t mention a word of our conversation. But how will you explain the sudden appearance of your mother in camp?”
“I don’t intend to take her back to camp. I saw a cave on the way here. She is capable of taking care of herself. I will hide her there until—until I can figure something out.”
Hannibal had my mother brought to his headquarters. She burst into tears immediately upon seeing me, but we had no time for happy words or kisses or even an explanation of what was happening. Hannibal called for Sosylus and we left the camp.
Carrying my mother’s things, I led Hannibal, my mother, Sosylus, and my horse up the ridge to where I had hidden the scroll containing the drawings. Five members of Hannibal’s Sacred Band trailed after us for the general’s security. I was not at all worried about them killing me. I knew that Hannibal was a man of elevated character and felt quite certain that he would not deceive me.
I retrieved the scroll from beneath a small bush and gave it to Hannibal. Hannibal was highly educated, more so than Scipio. He recognized the quality of the work immediately, and after a moment, handed the scroll to Sosylus. Sosylus, also in a very short time, verified the authenticity of the document and advised Hannibal to accept the scroll in exchange for my mother.
While Hannibal and Sosylus headed back to their camp, I helped my mother onto the horse. I held the reins and led her to the cave I had mentioned to Hannibal.
“How did you know I was in Hannibal’s camp?” my mother asked.
“Through the Community of Miracles network. Ennius sent a mutual friend to Africa to tell me. But the information was incomplete. Ennius didn’t know if you were imprisoned or executed after the kidnapping. When Hannibal’s scouts were captured the other day, Scipio allowed them to view our camp. I asked one of them if there were a woman in their camp with a beautiful singing voice. When he said yes, I knew it was you.”
“And Hannibal released me in exchange for that scroll? What did it contain?”
“The secrets of war are changing, Mother. The size of an army or the details of a battle strategy, those are the kinds of information a spy usually seeks. But there are other types of information. Things that are more subtle and are he
ld in even greater secrecy.”
“What do you mean?”
“The application of science to war. My experience with Archimedes included knowledge of war machines that no one else could even imagine. The scroll I gave to Hannibal contained plans for such a weapon.”
My mother’s expression was a question.
“It’s a variation of something Archimedes used against the Romans in Syracuse. Hannibal had heard of it. It’s significant.”
“Will it change the war?”
“No, and Hannibal seemed to know that. The device, or something like it, will surely be a part of warfare in the years to come, but not yet. I believe the real reason Hannibal let you go was that he has strong feelings for you—not love, but respect. I think he sees that the war is coming to an end, and spy or not, he wanted you to have your life back.”
My mother nodded. “Yes, I could feel that. Any other man would have had me tortured or crucified. Even as a slave and wearing shackles, I sang for him nearly every night.”
“And nothing else?”
“I was flogged upon my return, but only once. Ten lashes. I think he did that for the other officers, not because he wanted to hurt me.”
“What happened in Rome? How were you caught?”
“I went to the Community of Miracles. I felt it was important to visit the people who had helped me when I was still a slave. I went there several times and sang at their theater. I owed it to them. Then one afternoon, just after Lucretia and I had gotten inside the city walls, we were surrounded by a group of men and forcefully taken away. I was gagged and blindfolded, and eventually delivered to Hannibal for what I believe was a large reward. I still don’t know what happened to Lucretia.”
“Her body was found in the Tiber.”
My mother turned away and began to cry.
When we reached the cave, I helped my mother from the horse. The cave was shallow, but its opening was partially hidden by a stand of myrtle trees. It was risky, but my mother said not to worry. Hannibal had given her some blankets and a few pounds of wheat. She would be all right. I told her that the Roman camp was less than two miles away and that I would come visit her whenever I got the chance. There was a critical battle was in the offing; its outcome would determine all that came next.
CHAPTER 104
I entered our camp shortly after sundown. I went straight to headquarters. Scipio was there with Cato and Laelius. I told them I had been captured by Hannibal’s scouts while mapping the area. Scipio scolded me for going out alone and getting too close to Hannibal’s camp, then asked, “Why did Hannibal let you return?”
“Because of your treatment of his scouts. He was very impressed by that. He said he wanted to meet you.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wants to talk with you, one on one. I think he has tremendous respect for you.”
“What does he want to talk about?” asked Cato, clearly suspicious.
“He didn’t say. Part of the reason he released me was so that I could bring you this message. I believe, sir, that he wants to see who you are as a man. I think you should consider this request a compliment.”
“A compliment in war?” snapped Cato. “Who needs that? Refuse him.”
Laelius echoed the same sentiments, but Scipio was intrigued. He sent two envoys to Hannibal’s camp the next morning to agree to the meeting. Later that day, Hannibal moved his camp to a hill about four miles from our camp. The two generals would meet the following day at noon, midway between the two camps, alone except for translators.
CHAPTER 105
With the African sun blazing directly overhead in a cloudless, slate blue sky, a squadron of men on horseback rode out of each camp at noon the next day. The two contingents came to a halt several hundred feet apart. Hannibal and Scipio dismounted and walked toward each other, accompanied by their translators.
I was with Scipio for this remarkable moment in history. The two greatest military minds of that time, with responsibilities equal to those of any king or emperor in the world, both commanding armies near or in excess of forty thousand men, were going to talk. Scipio gave away nothing of his thoughts beforehand. I had no idea what to expect.
The two men, one fair and clean shaven, one dark with a thick, graying beard, acknowledged each other from a distance with their eyes. Hannibal glanced briefly at me then extended his hand to Scipio as they approached each other. Scipio accepted his hand as the two men seemed to appraise each other before opening the conversation. Though both men were capable in Greek, Scipio would speak in Latin and I would translate to Greek. Hannibal would speak in Greek; his aide would translate to Latin.
Scipio initiated the discussion with a compliment. “I don’t believe I have ever so wanted to meet any man, Hannibal. This is a great honor for me.”
“From what my generals have told me about your campaign in Spain, Scipio, the honor is mine.”
Scipio smiled easily. “That’s a powerful compliment from a man who has kept Rome in absolute fear for nearly twenty years and never lost a battle.”
Hannibal nodded. “If these words between us, Scipio, are truly spoken out of mutual respect and not some facile diplomatic etiquette, then please take what I have to say to heart. You are young. Fortune has been your friend. You have won many accolades on the battlefield. And from what I have gathered, your military expertise is unmatched by any Roman of any time. Much the same could be said of me as a Carthaginian. I have also been lucky. Fortune shone on me much of my time in Italy. After the battle of Cannae, I was nearly master of the entire peninsula. Four years later, I brought an army to within five miles of Rome, expecting surrender, and wondering how I would exact my terms. Today, I am in Africa wondering what Rome might ask of Carthage, should she surrender.”
This was not what Scipio was expecting. A moment of silence held before Hannibal resumed. “Remember that change of fate, Scipio. Do not be overly proud, and I beg you, keep your thoughts on the human scale of things. Follow the course that will produce the most good and the fewest negative consequences. For what man of sense would choose to rush into the danger that confronts you now? If you are victorious, you will add little of importance to your own reputation or to the glory of Rome, but if you are defeated, you will wipe out all memory of the fame and honors you have already achieved.
“I am considerably older than you, Scipio. I have spent more than half of my forty-five years at war. I have seen tens of thousands of men die on the battlefield, both mine and those of Rome. In the last four years, my three brothers have died in the name of Carthage. And, if I am not mistaken, you have lost a father and an uncle.”
Scipio nodded that this was true.
“If fate has decreed that I am the aggressor in this war,” continued Hannibal, “and that too many times I have fallen short of a final victory, then it is for me, at this time, to ask for peace. I do not wish to see the soldiers perched on these hills,” he looked off to both camps, “laid out upon this plain tomorrow in heaps of useless flesh. There is no longer any need for Rome and Carthage to spill blood. That you have forced me home and out of Italy means the war is over as far as I am concerned. Your strategy has been masterful. I would love to show you wrong on the battlefield tomorrow, and yet for my people, for Carthage, there is no sense in going on. So you might ask, why did I request this meeting? I seek peace and offer a proposal for surrender.”
Scipio could not help but smile. “That my father should confront you when you arrived in Italy at the beginning of the war, and that I should confront you now, sixteen years later to end it, is a great irony. I never doubted that Rome would triumph in the end, and yet, it still humbles me to receive these words from you, Hannibal. Make your offer.”
“I propose that all the territories whose possession we have disputed in the past, meaning Sicily, Sardinia, and Spain, shall belong to Rome, and that Carthage shall never go to war again with her over these territories. All the other islands lying between Italy and Africa sh
all likewise belong to Rome. Such terms of peace will be difficult for Carthage in the future, but should be considered most honorable for you and all Romans.”
Scipio tilted his head as in question. “But where is your concession in those terms, Hannibal? All of those lands you so honorably give away are already in the hands of Rome. I offered your Council of Elders those same terms six weeks ago with the modest addition of an indemnity of five thousand talents of silver. These were terms both your elders and I agreed upon. Envoys from my camp and your council went to Rome to present this proposal to our Senate, and it was accepted. Then, when it seemed that the war was over, your people treacherously violated the peace, most likely because they knew you would soon be in Africa. Put yourself in my position and tell me, should I now strike the harshest clauses from the treaty?
“Had you vacated Italy some time ago, prior to my putting pressure on Carthage, then I would be foolish to reject the armistice you offer. But now, it seems to me, there is a measure of disingenuousness in your offer. As a counter to the previous arrangement, it’s not even a compromise, but a retreat from earlier terms that I rejected. Had you included at least part of the indemnity previously agreed upon, then perhaps there could be peace—saving all the blood that will turn this dry desert plain red because you haven’t. The fact is you must either put yourself and your country unconditionally into Roman hands—or else fight us and conquer us.”
This was not the response Hannibal had sought, but it was not unexpected. “I understand your position, Scipio, and I don’t feel any insolence in your reply, but I do not have the power to accept any kind of indemnity without consulting the Council of Elders. My offer today was made in good faith. I accept that it was rejected in the same.”
Scipio nodded. “Then what we can not settle peacefully today, we must settle on the battlefield tomorrow.”
“So it must be,” replied his foe.
The two men turned and walked away. They mounted their horses, and both contingents of soldiers returned to their camps.
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