Back inside the fort, Gaius kept much of his men at arms and formed up. He wasn’t taking any chances, not until all of Valerius’ men had been accounted for, and disarmed. Thankfully, the old general and his remaining officers were understanding, and obliged to Gaius’ orders.
“Quartermaster! Get previsions, clean clothes, medical supplies and anything else you can find, at the double,” Gaius ordered as he, and his officers tried to keep order as Valerius and the eight hundred men he had with him were kept near the center of the fort. His staff were trying to determine who among the men needed the most care, and from what he could see, many, if not all were nearly starving — their bloodied kit, armor and clothes bloodstained, caked with week’s worth of filth, that most of the men looked to be wearing rags.
Many of the men collapsed once they reached safe ground, while others threw themselves into the arms of waiting soldiers, balling like children. More, however, joined in the celebration that was quickly beginning to take hold of the camp, while, already representatives from the Senate were making their way to the Fields of Mars to get statements and firsthand accounts about Hannibal and his forces.
Gaius did what he could, but no matter how many orders he gave, he couldn’t help the feeling that what he was doing wasn’t enough. He had the food, medical supplies and all the needs the men could ever want, but the task seemed overwhelming. Valerius, to his surprise, had refused any services, as he directed care to his sickest men. The ordered madness would continue for hours on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Gaius was smiling, something he couldn’t remember doing for the past year as he watched his men celebrate long into the night. The whole camp was alive — spirits lifted for the first time since the war had started. Their brothers had returned home — not all of them, but enough to show the new recruits that they could survive.
Turning back from looking out the flap of his tent, Gaius grinned at Valerius as he moaned, once he dipped his head into a large clay pot filled with hot water. It had been three hours since the old veteran returned to Rome with his survivors, and this was the first time that he took any time for himself. His initial concerns had been to his men, which Gaius and his officers rushed to attend to. The sickest and gravely wounded were rushed to the city, while the rest that were fit remained at the fort. Those that could find the strength remained with the recruits outside, enjoying their return with rounds of drink and bellies full of food.
Gaius watched as Valerius pulled his tattered and blood-covered tunic off, dropping it to the floor where the rest of his clothes had been piled, all of it beyond use. He could see in the flickering candlelight dozens of new scars, large and small lined his arms, neck and torso, while nasty welts and blisters had formed where bones had been fractured, leaving behind rough and dried skin that was hard as leather.
“You should have one of the doctors take a look at you,” Gaius spoke as he took a seat at his desk.
“Blah, I’ve been through far worse, Prefect.” Valerius grinned with a funny smile as he turned back towards his ward.
Gaius smiled. “Consul Paullus saw fit to promote me, until your return, of course.”
“And I’m certain you are ecstatic over the prospect of taking orders from me once more,” Valerius chuckled as he sat down on a stool that was placed near Gaius’ cot, which he had already offered for him to use.
“The Wolves are, and always will be, yours. I’m just their keeper until your return,” Gaius replied honestly.
“You’ve done fine without me, Gaius. I’m proud of you. Although, I must say that I’m saddened to see too many new faces among our ranks.”
Gaius lowered his head, recalling those he’d grown up with — had trained with and called friends who were no longer with him. It seemed the whole world had changed in a blink of the eye that he hardly had time to reflect on what had already been lost before a new crisis began.
“Far too few have returned, after Trebia and," Gaius paused before continuing. “Valerius, what happened at Trasimene?”
Valerius did not reply, not at first, not before Gaius added to his question.
“You are the only senior officer to have returned. We’ve had trickles of men, here and there, but none as large a force as you’ve brought back. What happened — what went wrong?”
Valerius grumbled, not out of frustration by Gaius’ question, or fear of recalling what had happened, but more from anger.
“It was that damn fool, Flaminius. Precisely what happened at Trebia, Flaminius refused to listen to us, even though we feared Hannibal might be setting another trap. However, he just kept marching us towards that damn lake.”
Valerius rubbed his index finger between his temples before he started again. Gaius did not try to press him, even though he desperately wanted to know the details.
“Flaminius marched the whole army along the banks of Trasimene, hoping to cut Hannibal from retreating back into the woods, as he had done before. It seemed, for a time that the bastard had camped his forces around Tuoro, so we weren’t worried about being out-flanked since it would take too much time for Hannibal to march his army out to confront us, if he was indeed planning something. So, Flaminius set camp at the base of the lake, where we waited for morning.”
Valerius took a moment as his tired mind struggled to recall the events of that day.
“When morning came, a heavy fog drifted in over the lake and encircled us. We saw fires still burning on top of Tuoro, so we thought there was no cause for alarm. At the very least, Hannibal might have used the fog to make a run for it. Nevertheless, that wily bastard had set the perfect trap, which we walked right into.”
Valerius stood to his feet, throwing his arms out to his sides as he spoke with vigor, animating in detail what followed.
“By the time we realized that the fires we saw still burning were a ruse, Hannibal and his whole horde hit us from three sides. With our backs to the lake, we had nowhere to turn. Our formations were in tatters, and when the legion was on the verge of collapse, I saw hundreds of damn fools trying to swim across Trasimene, freezing, or drowning from the weight of their kit.”
“We had reports that Flaminius died during the battle,” Gaius pointed out one of the briefings he had read upon his return to Rome.
“I did not see it with my own eyes, but hope the bastard died shitting his pants. He led a lot of good men to their doom, just like that moron Sempronius had.”
“What did you do next?”
Valerius ran his fingers through his matted hair, before he rubbed his eyes, trying hard to stave off his exhaustion, before yawning.
“I gathered what men I could, and we pushed through Hannibal’s lines. I started with five cohorts, but lost most during the attempt — more still on the march back to Rome.”
“I should have been there,” Gaius spoke more to himself than to Valerius.
“You had your orders and you carried them out as I had instructed. Don’t dwell on matters that were beyond your control.”
Valerius lied down on Gaius’ bed. He tried to stay awake, but sleep quickly overtook him before he could utter another word.
Gaius looked at Valerius, who began to snore minutes after closing his eyes. He stood from his seat and careful walked to the old legate and pulled the wolf-skin blanket higher across Valerius’ shoulders, before stepping back.
Valerius looked ancient with his un-kept beard, now thick with grey. However, he didn’t feel so young himself anymore.
All Gaius knew was he would have to train his men hard if they hoped to survive Hannibal. He decided then, with drink still in their bellies and little hours of rest, that at first light he would rouse his men and drill them until the sun went down.
If the consuls believed strength through numbers was going to be enough, the Wolves would use knowledge gained through blood on the battlefield to their advantage. What may come, only the fates knew for certain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The days had
grown long and warmer as the summer sun rose higher into the sky, brining a welcome sense of calm and renewed hope as the distance between the year’s previous events grew further apart. And while fighting continued across the breath of the Republic, Rome was, at least safe, for the moment, as Hannibal’s army had been kept at bay.
Since the disastrous battles at Trebia and Trasimene, both Paullus and Varro, as co-consuls of Rome, rebuilt the shattered remains of the Senate's legions with new blood drawn from the ranks of Rome’s allies, and her own citizens. The numbers were staggering. To date, the consuls gathered, trained and armed a hundred thousand men. It was the single biggest force the Republic had ever gathered, and one of the largest the world had seen. With such facts, few in Rome felt the war with Hannibal could continue for more than a few more weeks, if that. When and if he decided to engage the Republic's legions, his small force of barbarian allies would be swept aside like pebbles against the waves.
Since Valerius' return weeks prior, Gaius had spent every day working his new recruits into a formable fighting force, which was comprised of survivors of both Trebia and Trasimene. No legion in the Republic's army was better prepared, which in of itself, worried both Valerius and Gaius. From what they learned, few of the new recruits in the other legion camps around Rome had been trained nearly as hard, or primed for battle. It seemed that their respective officers followed the consul’s thoughts that size mattered, and not the man. Regardless, the new Sixth Legion was shaping up to the equals of those that had already perished. That in of itself gave Gaius tremendous pride, giving he had a large part in making them battle-worthy.
Rome was sending its legions off with style as the two consuls were going to march their combined armies through the city in grand triumph to celebrate their impending victory. And with just an hour before the first column was to enter Rome, thousands of spectators had already gathered, filling the streets with anticipation.
Gaius took the opportunity as his men had already been readied, and wouldn’t be walking through the streets of Rome until the end — the famed and celebrated wolves of the Sixth Legion had a place of honor; he walked towards Julia’s home.
It had been several weeks since he had seen either her or Antony, at most in passing as Gaius attended some of Varro’ meetings in his home. He had few words for either during those occasions, but had no time to reflect with either about the day he returned to the city, shortly after Flaminius’ legions were massacred at Trasimene.
Then, unlike now, one would have thought the world was coming near its end. The city smelled of death: burnt businesses and homes lined every quarter of Rome, the bodies of hundreds of citizens stacked on overflowing carts — even the government brought to its knees. Now, life was as it had been. The city was alive with trade, business, entertainment and politics. Still, war loomed like a dark cloud. No one forgot that Hannibal was out there.
Gaius walked into Julia’s home. He did not see anyone, but he knew most of the house slaves would have been attending to their masters, who would be at the gathering near the forum. However, he knew Julia was still here. He had spoken to Antony the night before briefly during a late-night dinner with Varro and his officers, as he went over his expectations for the day’s event.
Without waiting to be seen, Gaius continued forward, walking toward Julia’s room, which was on the southern end of the large home, near the back, overlooking the garden outside. However, as he neared her room, he could hear another person speaking, a man’s voice which Gaius recognized as Paullus.
Easing himself into the next room, which was empty at the moment, Gaius listened carefully. He did not know why he was suddenly sneaking around. His visit was not unwelcome, and Paullus had full knowledge of him and Julia’s friendship. Gaius couldn’t stand the thought, at this moment, to be between the two of them.
Julia was on the balcony, while Paullus was standing behind her, his hands resting on her bare shoulders as he spoke, low, but loud enough that Gaius could make out his words.
Anger boiled in the pit of Gaius’ stomach. It nerved him to see Paullus’ careful embrace around Julia. He didn’t seem to be the titan he carried himself as around the Senate. Here, with her, he was tender, seemly lighter in her presence. Gaius knew what that felt like — he longed to be like that around her once more.
“Do not fear, my love. I shall return in due time. The campaign will not take more than a few weeks, at the most,” Paullus spoke in mid sentence.
Julia seemed to listen to him, but her gaze was kept far beyond. Even here the jubilation in the forum could be heard, as thousands gathered to see Paullus and Varro’ vast army.
“Are you so certain? Other men have gone, seeking a confrontation with Hannibal, and have not returned,” Julia spoke in a tone of fear.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Julia. The Republic has never gathered such men as the troops your father, and I will be leading into battle. We outnumber the barbarian three to one. I don’t think even Alexander the Great would have dared match iron with Rome’s new legions.”
“And when Hannibal falls, what then?” she asked.
“I suppose I’ll be going to Africa, with the men to finish what Carthage started. Fear not, I will return in plenty time to be married to you, when the gods see it favorable, and have blessed this family and the legacy we shall create, together.”
“I fear, Paullus this army of boys and old men might not hold as well as you, and my father believes. I fear, Paullus…” Julia’s words trailed off as she seem unable to truly express what was on her heart, nor was Paullus hearing any of it.
“Hush, my dear. It is not your place to think such things, not when they are well beyond your understanding.” Paullus’ tone was hard, but he held himself from speaking further, not before he steadied himself.
Paullus grabbed Julia and urged her to turn and face him.
“Or is it my abilities that you question?” he asked with a broken heart.
“I know nothing of military tactics or your abilities to lead men into battle. I only fear for my family — my father and brother’s safety, and others, dare to me.”
“Such concerns are not called for. The gods are on our side. I will not allow Hannibal or his ragged army to come within sight of Rome’s walls. By Jupiter’s sword, I swear it on my life!”
Paullus looked down at Julia, tilting her head slightly higher with his hand so that he may look into her eyes.
“When this is over, I shall return a hero, and then we shall be man and wife. That I promise you with my last breath, my dearest Julia.”
She managed her best smile, and if Paullus had known her better, he would have seen that she had lingering doubts that could not be overturned with a few careful words.
Paullus knelt down and kissed Julia softly on the lips. As he did so, Gaius fell back behind the cover of the door, his heart racing, and his face flushed with bitter jealously.
As Paullus pulled away from Julia, he did not see Gaius as he briskly walked down the hall, heading for the front of the house, and out into the courtyard.
Julia stayed where she had been, her sight once again fixed outside.
Gaius tried to steady his breathing as he glanced around the bend one last time. He wanted to leave. He couldn’t recall why he had come to see her in the first place, and now regretted that he had ever come at all. However, before he could step carefully beyond the threshold, Julia spoke.
“I know you are there, Gaius. Do not pretend otherwise.”
Gaius sighed heavily before he stepped into view.
“How did you know I was here?” he asked.
She smiled. “From the smell of your armor: the scented oils you use. You smell better than most men, I must say.”
Gaius blushed. It hadn’t been the first-time someone had said such to him. Now that he knew it gave away his position, he might have to reconsider his daily routine.
“I have not seen you for a while, well, at least privately. Why have you not come sooner?�
� she asked as Gaius joined her.
“I am sorry. I have been busy preparing my men. I would have like to see you more. I should have made a better effort,” Gaius answered, a bit flustered, only telling half the truth.
“You do not need to make apologies, Gaius. I understand the life of a soldier better than you might give me credit. Your presence this afternoon is a wonderful surprise. That is all.”
“I thought I should come and say goodbye before we march from the city this evening. I wanted to see you.”
Julia took his arm and wrapped it around her own, glancing up at him with a warm smile, which Gaius hadn’t realized how much he missed, until now.
“Then, it brightens my day that you made the time to see me.”
Gaius did not reply nor was she expecting him to. They both enjoyed these quiet times together without the need to fill the empty silence with unneeded conversation.
“Is it true what they are saying?” Julia broke the silence after a momentary pause. “Is the army truly as large as they say, and as powerful?”
“It is perhaps a bit embellished. However, it is the largest force Rome has ever fielded, and more are still expected to join us,” Gaius answered.
“Will it be so easy to defeat Hannibal, do you think?”
“No, I doubt it will be,” he answered honestly, a rare sentiment that he wouldn’t share with anyone else.
Julia directed her attention high into the sky, watching as a group of birds flew over the city.
As Gaius looked at her, it seemed her mind was lost in another time as an odd smile, one that reminded him of the girl she used to be, crossed her face.
“Do you remember when we were children, and we used to play in my father’s field? You were the brave hero — never a villain, and you were on a quest to find and save the princess from one of your stories. Even then you gave your all, not at any time straying from your quest, regardless of the danger.”
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