Total War Rome: Destroy Carthage (30 page)

‘There's another purpose for those
liburnae,
and that's as escort vessels,' Fabius said. ‘It's something else that the slave carrying the tin ore pointed out to me. At the far end of the rectangular harbour is another shipbuilding yard, with huge wooden formers and a vessel being built up from the keel. He said the timbers were cedar of Lebanon supplied by a convoy that came under naval escort from King Demetrius of Syria, with his son leading a special delegation from Syria that was met by Hasdrubal himself at the harbour entrance.'

‘
Demetrius?
' Scipio exclaimed. ‘So he has finally turned against Rome.'

‘That might not be the way he sees it,' Fabius said. ‘Perhaps he's just aligned himself to a new Rome, one that sees Carthage as an ally.'

Scipio strode forward grimly. ‘Do you have anything else to tell me?

‘It gets worse. The vessel under construction was at least the size of the
Europa,
the huge amphora carrier we saw at the quayside. Yet the slave said this was no amphora carrier, but an
elephantegos,
an elephant transporter. He said that it was being built by Egyptian shipwrights who specialized in ships for bringing elephants and other beasts up the coast of the Erythraean Sea from the land they call Punt. He said the shipwrights arrived with a delegation from your other friend, Ptolemy Philometor, King of Egypt, and that his treacherous wife and sister Cleopatra herself accompanied them.'

‘Jupiter above,' Scipio muttered. ‘Ptolemy too? He never was cut out to be a king. Cleopatra must be behind this.'

‘With Demetrius and Ptolemy siding with Carthage, perhaps in secret alliance with Metellus in Macedonia and his supporters in the Senate in Rome, it means that more than half of those who were in the academy are now aligned against you and against the Rome that you were trained to defend. Demetrius and Ptolemy may have spent their adult lives entangled in the power politics of Syria and of Egypt, but they were both trained in the academy by Polybius and the old centurion; put in charge of an army, they could be formidable strategists and tacticians. If there is to be a world war, the balance of power is swinging dangerously against us.'

‘A
world war,
' Scipio exclaimed. ‘Could it come to that?'

‘Think of that
elephantegos,
' Fabius said. ‘What other purpose can such a vessel have for the Carthaginians than to send elephants to war? I saw other formers in the yard beyond, for other hulls under construction. Shipwrights specialized in making large vessels for elephants could easily transfer their skills to making troop transports.'

‘I understand now what you mean about the
liburnae
making perfect escort galleys,' Scipio said. ‘If the Carthaginians are intent on conquest to increase their gold reserves, they will find little in Africa beyond the Numidian towns, only hundreds of miles of impassable desert. What we've seen here, the harbours and the ships, is not just about increasing trade and controlling the sea lanes. Carthage is building an invasion fleet, a fleet that could land troops anywhere along the Mediterranean shore and besiege the great cities of Greece and the east. With support from Demetrius and Ptolemy as well as Metellus, the entire territory of Alexander's empire could fall before such an alliance.'

‘And while Metellus may be focusing on consolidating the east, Hasdrubal may have his eyes set elsewhere. The legacy of history remains as firmly embedded for Carthage as it is for us, the legacy that generations of war and bloodshed have yet to resolve.'

‘You mean he will look to conquer Rome.'

Fabius nodded. ‘Carthage may be unfinished business for you, for the
gens
Scipiones. But Rome is also unfinished business for Carthage. Just as Scipio Africanus stood before Carthage after the Battle of Zama and then turned away, so Hannibal stood within sight of the walls of Rome before he too was forced back. Just as you have a legacy from your grandfather, so Hasdrubal has his own legacy from Hannibal.'

‘And yet we have no invasion fleet in preparation, only a token force in Africa and a dithering Senate,' Scipio muttered.

Fabius squinted up, seeing the sun low in the western sky. ‘Where to next? We don't have much time.'

Scipio took a deep breath. ‘Remember Intercatia? The Celtiberians defended their
oppidum
in depth, with that second wall within the main circuit. From what Terence told me, the Carthaginians may have done the same. We've seen evidence of Hasdrubal's offensive strategy, but now we need to see his defensive plans. We'll go past the Tophet sanctuary and up the main street from the harbours towards the Byrsa. We need to see as much as we can. Let's move.'

16

The narrow alleys on either side of the street lay deep in shadow, and Fabius looked ahead to see that the afternoon sun had fallen behind the level of the Byrsa. ‘We don't have long,' he said. ‘The kybernetes wanted to be out on the open sea by nightfall. If the bodies of those soldiers are found and they suspect us, they'll send out one of those
liburna
galleys to hunt us down. We'll need to use the cover of night to row as fast as we can to get to our own naval cordon, and that's more than ten miles to the east.'

Scipio nodded. ‘We'll carry on here for half an hour, no more. Do you remember the model of Carthage that my grandfather Scipio Africanus had made – the one that our playwright friend Terence helped me to modify? He told me about the maze of old Punic houses that he used to play in as a boy, and I want to see whether the Carthaginians have knocked them down during all of this rebuilding to make a final killing zone before the Byrsa hill.'

They hurried up the street, ascending now so that when they turned they could glimpse the distant sea beyond the harbours, shimmering above the rooftops. The buildings on either side were higher, more like fortress walls than a street frontage, and as they neared the end of the street they could see that the rooftops were crenellated and linked by low towers. They marched determinedly ahead as several people passed, and then Scipio stopped and looked along the walls, judging the field of fire for arrows and spears.

‘It's just as I thought, coming up,' he said grimly. ‘The Carthaginians have planned for defence in depth, deliberately narrowing these streets as they lead towards the Byrsa to funnel an attacking force into them, to this place where a hidden force could appear suddenly on the walls and rain down death. The only way to counter it would be to mount an attack of sufficient speed and ferocity to break through and overwhelm them, with archers in the vanguard to fire up at these walls to keep the defenders back. For an attacking force to hesitate, to be caught up in street fighting, would be to make this place a death trap. The assault on Carthage could end right here.'

Fabius nodded. ‘At this stage in an assault, with their final stronghold threatened, they could mount suicide attacks, sending fighters down the street to try to pin down the advance. Even though such defenders might be killed within moments, it would only take a few of them hurtling down one after the other to cause the advance to halt, and then the assault troops would be killed in larger numbers by the men on the walls as they were able to find their targets. It would take the strongest leadership to maintain the determination of the legionaries and keep the assault force driving forward.'

‘And imaginative use of shields,' Scipio murmured, squinting up at the walls. ‘Ennius and I have discussed a new drill for the
testudo,
for locking shields together to form a continuous protective cover above a marching cohort. We need to practise it, not in the open but in the streets and alleys of a town where the centurions can train the legionaries to raise and lower their shields as the width and direction of a street changes.'

‘We would need to find a Punic town with a similar arrangement,' Fabius said. ‘One with similar street alignments and house layouts.'

‘I know exactly the place,' Scipio replied. ‘Kerkouane, on the eastern shore beyond the cape, supposedly the place where the Phoenicians landed when they first came to Africa. The city was abandoned after the war between Rome and Carthage a century ago, and has never been reoccupied. Ennius has already been there to test a new siege engine against the weaknesses in Punic walls. It would be a perfect place to practise urban warfare.'

‘We need to remember what we are up against,' Fabius said. ‘Hasdrubal is not a reasonable man like Hannibal. He's defiant, and will hold out to the death. If he's infected his fighters with the same spirit, then they will give up this place dearly. The men needed for suicide attacks down those streets would not be mercenaries. You can pay a man to risk his life, but not to face certain death. They could only be Carthaginian citizens.'

Scipio nodded. ‘If they've put such thought into building these defences, they will also have trained men for that purpose: men who have a fanatical allegiance to Carthage, perhaps under the sway of the priests. It would be a cohort of suicide warriors with only one objective: to throw themselves at an attacker in these streets.'

They had reached a mass of buildings below the edge of the Byrsa, where the slopes began to angle more steeply towards the temple platform on top of the hill. To their right they could see the processional way that rose up the Byrsa in a westerly direction, a place where the morning sun would cast a brilliant light on the stone steps. But the street they were on came to an end before a dense accumulation of houses, structures joined by ladders and stairways on the rooftops that allowed overhead access between the buildings. Whereas they had passed few others in the street on the way up, the alleyways ahead were teeming with people: slaves carrying amphorae and other goods on their shoulders, women making their way between houses with baskets of food, children running and playing. Fabius planted his spear in the ground and stood as if on guard. ‘This looks like an old quarter, like the descriptions of ancient towns in the east that I have heard slaves in Rome talk about,' he said. ‘It looks as if the rebuilding programme has not extended this far yet. Perhaps this quarter has special significance, like the house of Romulus on the Palatine Hill, preserved because it was the first settled part of the city.'

Scipio squinted at the houses. ‘I think there's more to it than that. I think it's been left like this deliberately. If an attack force managed to push through to this point, the surviving Carthaginians could fall back among these houses, holing themselves up. This is the last-ditch line of defence in depth.'

‘If you were to take this quarter without incurring massive casualties, you would need to drive your men without hesitation into the houses, having stoked up their ardour for individual combat. Hasdrubal might hold back his best warriors for this fight.'

Scipio nodded. ‘All right. I've seen all I need to see. We've got all the ammunition we need to give Polybius and Cato for their fight with the Senate. We should return now.'

They took one last look at the Punic houses and the Byrsa beyond, the shining white of its marble backlit by the red sheen in the late afternoon sky. Fabius wondered whether they would ever be here again, and whether the street they were standing on would be a river of blood. They turned and walked quickly back down in the direction of the harbours, turning sharply as the street opened out into a wider avenue just beyond the fortified frontage that formed the second line of defence. They heard a clashing of arms and shouted commands to their right. Scipio stopped and turned to Fabius. ‘That sounds like a training ground. Let's take a look.'

In front of them was a space where the buildings had been cleared away to create open ground. A low wall had been built across it to maintain a street frontage, linking the fortified houses of the approach to the Byrsa with the buildings below. In the centre of the wall was an open entrance, and two guards. To Fabius they looked like mountain men from northern Macedonia or Thrace, huge men with dark eyes and thick beards. Scipio strode brazenly up to them, speaking in Greek. ‘Message from Hasdrubal to the
strategos,
' he said. Fabius tensed, keeping his arm ready beside his sword, watching as the guard to the left eyed them suspiciously.

The man spoke in Greek. ‘I haven't seen you two before,' he said. ‘You're not Iberian, or Greek. You look Roman.'

Scipio snorted, and spat. ‘Roman by birth, but not by allegiance. We fought as legionaries at Pydna, but then deserted. The generals thought we were fighting solely for the honour of Rome, so they took all of the loot for themselves. Can you believe it? I tell you, when the Romans run short of men they're going to come looking for mercenaries, but don't think of joining them. Anyway, we had too much to drink one night in Tyre and woke up chained to the oars in a galley, but managed to escape when the galley put into the harbour here a few weeks ago, and we offered our services.' He had spotted the distinctive shape of the bow slung on the man's back, confirming his nationality. ‘It's good to see Thracians again. We spent ten years after Pydna with a band of Thracian mercenaries, drinking and whoring our way around the kingdoms of the east, working wherever the pay was right. They say that one day, when the star of Rome has faded, a Thracian will rise who will put Alexander the Great in the pale, leading an army to conquer all of those lands. From what I've seen of Thracians, I wouldn't doubt it.'

The guard looked Scipio hard in the eyes, and then grunted, cracking a lopsided smile. ‘You're all right. When we're off-duty, we go to a tavern by the sea that serves Thracian wine. Just ask for the tavern of Menander. Meet us there this evening. The owner has two Egyptian girls who are always up for fresh meat. You can show us what you're worth.' He jerked his head to the door. ‘Take your message inside. Just don't linger too long. If you do, they'll use you for sword practice.'