The rest of Ballista’s men were dealt with in short-order as Hannibal’s guards slaughtered all those that stood firm against their overwhelming numbers. Within moments, the first men stormed into the gatehouse, slaughtering those defenders still within before freeing the city gates from their chains.
The ground rumbled as Hannibal stood among the dead. A moment later as the southern gate opened his brother Mago, and twenty riders charged into Saguntum, followed by hundreds more soldiers who ran in all directions, roaring with murder on the mind as they moved deeper into the city.
“Well done, brother. I’m sorry you left me so few to kill,” Mago grinned as he stopped his horse near Hannibal, who looked almost unrecognizable as he was covered head — to-toe with the gore of his enemies.
“There are plenty more waiting to face our iron, brother. Do not let them wait much longer,” Hannibal replied, Mago laughing hard as he reared his horse and ordered his men forward. The city was open to them and in a few hours, there would be no male left alive to defend it.
“Please general, I beg you!” the cries of the city-father were cut short as the axe blade sliced through the soft flesh of his neck, freeing his body of the burden of the man’s head, which rolled carelessly onto the blood-soaked ground before it was picked up by one of Hannibal’s men, and tossed into the pile of two dozen other skulls that sat near the corner of the citadel walls. This same scene had been repeated two dozen times over the past hour as Hannibal, standing with his brother by his side, his drunken men surrounding him, stood with a wide smile as he watched his enemies fall before him, one by one.
The sun was still set high in the sky, beaming its blazing heat down upon the ruins of Saguntum, which burned as its streets and buildings were filled with the terrifying screams of women being raped, and men botched like pigs. The blood that had soaked Hannibal caked and dried like that of an erred lake bed as he took a long swig of wine before passing it to his brother.
“Ah, it was a hard fight — long and brutal, but you did it, my brother. You truly did it!” Mago bellowed as the warm honey wine drizzled down his gullet. “But shouldn't we spare at least a few of these vermin to ransom to Rome?”
“No. Rome, and all those that hear of this victory will learn what it means to defy me, brother,” Hannibal replied harshly as another man was dragged forth, an older man, fat, wearing a Roman toga, looking to be in his early sixties. He begged for his life as so many others had already, offering his captives all the riches they could ever hope to spend. Little did he know Hannibal had everything the man own, save for his life, which he was about to take momentarily.
“So what now? One victory does not make us conquers,” Mago asked bitterly.
Hannibal snorted. Mago was the most pessimistic of his brothers. However, it was his realistic view of the world that made him valuable to Hannibal’s campaigns. He wasn’t interested in ass-kissers like that of a Roman consul.
“No, it does not. Even so, this victory will go a long way in subduing those Gallic tribes that stand in our way. Those that were not fearful of us will now back off, and those that will stand before us, we can pay off.”
“And those that don’t do either?” Mago asked.
Hannibal turned towards him. “We crush them,” he answered simply.
As the old man’s head was taken and his body, which twitched violently, was dragged away, Hannibal reached out and took the wine skin before taking a deep breath. “But Rome is not Saguntum. It shall not prove as easy.”
“Eight months is hardly easy,” Mago commented, knowing full well that wasn’t what his brother was speaking of.
“Indeed. There will be many more battles, harder fought that we will encounter, brother, and our men must be ready. I want only the strongest for this journey. The trek and those we face on the path to Rome will weed out the weak. When we reach Italy, Rome will be facing an army the likes it has never seen before.”
Mago smiled as he slapped his brother on the shoulder. “Then my brother, we have a lot of work to do before your war with Rome can begin. Maybe even year’s worth before the first drop of Roman blood is spilled.
Hannibal smiled as his mind drifted to the days and months to come, perhaps even years, it did not matter how long it took as he was one step closer today to his goal than he had been yesterday. After a lifetime, his family’s wraith was finally being turned where it was meant to be directed. Rome and all those that serve under its banner would bleed.
CHAPTER TWO
Gaius steadied his breathing to calm himself. He listened carefully as he stayed within the tall brown wheat that was almost ready for harvest. He couldn’t hear anything save for the sounds of the wind as it blew across the seemingly endless field. A few geese flew overhead in perfect formation; their constant honking braking the pristine quiet momentarily as they passed high above. The only other sound was the thumping of his heart. And then, he heard a sudden rustling in the grass to his right.
Gaius held his breath as he gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, with the blade at the ready. After a few tense seconds, the noise sounded again, nearer to his position; sweat dripped from his brow as he knelt on one knee.
He was as still as a cat ready to pounce upon its prey. No one could have seen him, unless they stepped right on top of him. He had concealed himself well, as he had been trained. He hoped it would afford him an advantage over the man he had been eluding for several hours now.
His pursuer was good, and seemed determined to find him before the sun fell over the western sky, which was less than two hours. However, every time Gaius felt that he had lost him, the man showed his ugly face, having already chased him across this country with the aggression of a madman. It was a bitter rivalry that had been going on far too long. He wanted to find his hunter and defeat him, so he could be free. Gaius had a mission to complete that took priority over his own need for justice, so he waited patiently, looking for a way to circumvent his prey and reach his objective. However, if he could achieve victory here, he would be free to carry out his duty without impediment.
The quiet rustling came again, nearer still. He readied his sword as rustling in the field was moments from revealing itself to him. Now he had the advantage and would do away with this villain.
“Got you!” Gaius cried out as he broke from her perch and dashed forward, parting the grass as he came to a small clearing. His eyes opened broad as his sudden action startled a deer that had been chewing the weeds; its eye opening in a wide panic, frozen for a moment as it gazed at the frightful Roman. However, he did nothing as the deer took the opportunity and darted off quickly back the direction it had come.
Gaius took a deep breath and then letting it out with a sigh. His heart was pounding as the creature escaped, most certainly not the man who had tracked him for all these hours. His nerves were getting the best of him. He was tired of running. He needed to confront his pursuer now and deal with the villain before paranoia overtook him.
Wiping his brow with the sleeve of his shirt, he looked up at the bright overhead sun. In a few hours, it would descend. Nightfall was not his ally as his mission was sensitive. He had only until the new-moon to finish it, which was drawing nearer.
He dared to raise a little. He could see a road not too far from his current position, which would take him to the compound that housed his objective.
My enemy might be watching the road Gaius thought to himself as his tired mind pondered his options. I’ve got to try. I would rather face my foe then continue to hide from him. If the Jupiter is with me, I might actually be able to ambush the tyrant.
Staying as low as he could, Gaius carefully ran through the field towards a lone pine tree that stood on the outer edge of the dirt road. Stopping every few yards, he listened meticulously for sounds that would indicate that he had been spotted. When he was certain, he had remained undetected, he quickly raced over to the tree that loomed before him, well-concealed against the wide trunk of the century old pine, provid
ed him with shade from the scorching heat of the sun.
Peering around its base to see if anyone was coming down the road, he witnessed no travelers. A part of him hoped that the hunter would be marching down the road, so he may end this tiresome chase once and for all, but he saw no one.
Gaius felt a little more relaxed as he felt perhaps he had finally escaped the Greek who hunted him. He might now be able to complete the mission he was given by his king, without having to fight his way to the prize, the wife of his brother Paris.
Now determined that the way was clear, Gaius readied himself to break from the cover that hid him from prying eyes. As he prepared to dash out into the road, he heard rustling of leaves above him. For a moment, he thought it was a bird, nesting high within the thick branches, but then he heard a high-pitched scream, and knew that the sound was not that of birds.
Gaius barely managed to roll out of the path of his attacker as the man leaped down from the tree, plunging his sword into the dirt where Gaius had been standing.
Covered from head to toe in mud, Gaius rolled to his feet as the Greek quickly withdrew his sword and screamed like a wild animal, before attacking once again.
With a bloodlust in his eyes, he lunged forward in an attempt to impale Gaius with the thick blade of his curved sword. Gaius fainted to the right, dodging the Greek’s violent attack. Before he could counter, however, the hunter swung upward with blinding speed.
Gaius backtracked, managing to stay on his feet as he slipped in the mud. He only now seemed to notice that the Greek warrior had dried mud on his arms and face, which was why he could hide in the tree, well concealed within the shadows of the twisted branches — just waiting for him to make a mistake and drop his guard long enough to launch his surprise attack. A brilliant tactic he hated to admit.
The Greek warrior seemed to be the same age as Gaius, but two inches shorter. His build was slimmer and wiry, which gave him a slight edge, compared to the taller, more muscular Roman. Both men seemed equal in terms of their execution. However, Gaius was better-trained and more controlled in his form, which allowed him to deflect each attack that came at him. The Greek was more violent, and his more aggressive style made it difficult for Gaius to counter without considerable effort.
Gaius knew instinctively that if he kept this up for too long, the more crazed swordsman would overpower him. He needed a plan — enough time to take advantage of his attacker’s weaknesses.
As Gaius blocked another powerful sword strike from the Greek, he noticed that the sun was starting to drop lower over the western sky. He didn’t have much time left. His mission to save his brother’s wife was too important to fail — for if he did, a kingdom would fall.
As his opponent leaped forward, Gaius rolled to his left. The Greek missed wide, which allowed Gaius to reach down and grab a fistful of mud, which he hurled at his attacker’s face.
The Greek, already covered in dried mud, managed to raise his hand in time to block the clump of dirt. Even so, as he readied to attack once more, he saw that his target had fled, darting as quickly as he could across the road and back into the tall field.
“You coward!” the Greek warrior roared as he chased after Gaius, who disappeared before his eyes as the brown grass engulfed him.
Gaius ran as quickly as his tired legs could carry him. This country was his homeland — he had lived, worked and fought here that he knew it as well as his own hand. This he hoped would give him the advantage against the foreigner.
Quickly, Gaius ran around a large boulder that he knew stood several dozen yards down the side of the road. It was just barely big enough to conceal him from view, and perhaps provide the opportunity to set his own ambush.
Gripping his sword tightly, Gaius struggled to control his breathing as his heart raced. The chase was exhilarating, despite being so near to death. A warrior was at most at his peak when faced with his equal, or so he had been taught to believe. Only then could the true test of a warrior’s mettle be proven, and if he survived, he would be greater for it.
Gaius heard the Greek approaching. The man no longer cared for stealth as he was slashing through the wheat with his blade.
“Show yourself you cowering girl!” The taunt might have worked in the past, but Gaius kept his nerve as he waited, ignoring the spiteful comments that the Greek bellowed.
As Gaius peeked over the top of the rock, planning to give the Greek what he was asking for, he steadied his breathing, opened his mind to his surroundings, and waited patiently.
Gaius felt a calming peace come over him. The kill was near. Soon he would be allowed to complete his mission and claim his reward from the honorable king — a prize that would make him a very rich and celebrated hero.
He readied as the Greek neared.
Gaius placed one hand around the hilt of his sword, while the other slowly inched over the top edge of the rock, making sure he had a firm grip on the stone before leaping over; he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, not when he was so close.
The Greek turned abruptly as he heard Gaius’ war cry, as he rose over the edge of the bolder and leaped with his sword held high over his head.
There was nothing the Greek warrior could do, he was completely defenseless, his eyes opening wide as he knew without a doubt that this would be the last thing he would ever see before the end came. However, death did not come as Gaius had planned. Instead of driving his sword through the Greek’s chest, the mud that had yet to dry on his feed caused him to slip. There was nothing he could do as he fell, landing flat on his back, on the ground with a loud thump.
The Greek took advantage of the situation and ran forward. Gaius didn’t have time to regain his footing before the sandaled heel of the Greek’s crashed down onto his chest.
“A valiant effort my opponent, but alas it was a vain one. Now, you shall die,” the Greek yelled as he drove his sword through Gaius’ stomach.
He screamed as the blade was driven through the soft flesh of his belly, twisting as it tore through his entrails. It was not a quick or painless death, but slow and agonizing as the villain laughed, enjoying his victory, at last.
Death was not what troubled Gaius as he breathed his last, as his thought drifted to his failure to complete his vital mission, knowing that the kingdom, he had sworn to protect would fall to the foreign hordes. It was bitter knowledge, worse than the agony he was in now.
The world grew dark as death overtook him. Then, as the Greek roared his victory, Gaius left this world as a defeated hero, slain by his enemy, who would now claim the greatest prize in the known world.
However, darkness did not linger as his eyes opened once more, and his lungs filled with fresh air. He tried to stand back to his feet but could not as the foot of his murderer was still firmly planted on his chest, keeping him pinned to the ground.
“I, Achilles, have defeated the powerful and mighty Hector of Troy. I am now the greatest warrior on the face of the Earth! No man can stand in the path of the great Achilles!”
Gaius tried to stand to his feet, but the would-be-Achilles pushed him back down onto the muddy ground — the same wide grin still evident on his face as he turned his attention to someone else.
“Now I shall claim my prize, my queen, Helen of Troy,” Achilles said with a sinister smile as he stepped over Gaius’ body, walking over to a girl who sat across the road, watching the whole ordeal with wide eyes and a bigger grin.
“Ewww!” the pretender who played the part of Helen of Troy cried out as she sat on the top of a wooden fence, swinging her legs back and forth.
“But you must marry me. I have defeated Hector for you,” Achilles said as he stood before the younger girl who looked disgusted by the thought of marrying the warrior who walked towards her — his arms held wide to his side as he knelt down on one knee, waiting for her to run into his embrace.
The uncooperative Helen leaped from the fence. As she hurried over toward Achilles, she pushed him out of the way, which forced him down
onto his backside before she hurried over to Gaius, who finally managed to get back to his feet, tying to brush the drying mud off from his tunic and bare legs.
Throwing her arms around Gaius, the girl looked back at Achilles, the boy who was actually her brother, and proclaimed, “I choose Gaius as my husband. He is my hero, and I shall marry him!” she cried out as she looked up into Gaius’ boyish eyes with a wide smile on her young face.
Her grip on his leg was firm, not caring about the dirt that stuck to his body, as long as she had him in her arms.
“Hey! You can’t do that. He is supposed to be Hector. And he is dead!” the pretender who played Achilles yelled with a frustrated expression, bitter as he watched once again his sister ruined his game.
“And besides, Helen is supposed to be in love with Paris,” Gaius said as he looked down at the little girl.
“I can marry whoever I want!”
“No you can’t, Julia!” Antony, her older brother screamed. “You can’t just go and change the story. Can’t she, Gaius?”
Gaius looked down at Julia as she stared back up at him with her big, dark-green eyes, seemingly asking him without words that he should agree with her and not her brother.
“It doesn’t really matter, I guess. Pretty much everyone dies in the end,” Gaius answered as diplomatically as he could — setting the historical facts straight.
“Well, that isn’t very fun. Why can’t we just change it?” Julia asked.
“Because, it isn’t our story to change,” he answered.
“Yeah, so strop trying to marry him already,” Antony said as he walked over to his sister and smacked her upside her head. Julia turned, yelling at her brother as she started to swing at him.
Gaius looked on, watching his two friends as they fought, as they normally did. For the moment, he was thankful that he was the only child in the family.
As Antony and his younger sister fought in the middle of the road, Gaius looked over his shoulder and gazed upon the falling sun, which in fewer than two hours would be gone, ending his day with his two best friends.
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