Total War Rome: Destroy Carthage (37 page)

‘Timaeus writes of it,' Ennius said. ‘And Pytheas the Greek navigator in Massalia is said to have gone to the northern tip of the Cassiterides, the Tin Islands, to a place called Ultima Thule. If the Carthaginians had found those routes, they would have kept them secret too.'

Polybius curled his lip in disdain. ‘Timaeus claims to be the pre-eminent historian of the west, but he never leaves the comfort of his library in Alexandria. When I decided to write my history of the war against Hannibal, did I not speak
only
to those who had seen the war with their own eyes? And did I not trace the route of Hannibal
with my own two feet,
marching from Spain through the Alps in the path of his elephants?'

‘And did you not muck out Hannibal's last elephant with your own hands, when we were young warriors in the academy at Rome?' Gulussa said with gentle mockery. He gestured at the leathery back of the beast tethered on the other side of the harbour. ‘And do I not smell that very ordure here with us now?

Polybius cast him a withering glance. ‘I write history that I see with my own eyes. I am neither a mythographer like Herodotus, nor a writer of fables like Timaeus. My history is not for entertainment. It is to teach us better tactics and strategy. It is to guide our course of action in the future.'

Fabius put his centurion's staff on the map above Europe, and spoke quietly. ‘The Cassiterides exist; my wife's people call it Pritani, land of the painted people, and others call it Albion. She was the daughter of a Gallic chieftain who shipped wine there from Massalia, exchanging it for slaves and tin.'

Polybius eyed Fabius shrewdly, nodding, and then he turned to Scipio. ‘It is not to the east that we should be looking, but to the west. And it is not tin or slaves that interest me, but strategy.' He put his pointer on the map beside Fabius' staff. ‘We should be seeking a route for our transport ships to sail around Iberia and land our legions in Gaul, to sweep south over the expanse of land occupied by the Celtic tribes. We have already fought them, and know them as formidable enemies. During my travels across the Alps I learned of fearsome tribes to the north of the mountains, in the forest lands of the upper rivers. If we do not conquer these tribes, they will grow ever stronger and in years to come will sweep down on Rome itself, as the Celts of northern Italy did two centuries ago. Once we control the west and vanquish these tribes, then the world is truly open to us.'

Scipio put a hand on his friend's shoulder. ‘When we have laid waste to Carthage, I will provide you with a ship to sail west through the Pillars of Hercules to find these fabled isles and a northern sea route to Gaul.'

‘I should like that above all things,' Polybius said fervently.

‘But now is not the time for future strategy. Now is the time for war.' Scipio looked piercingly at Ennius. ‘Do you remember what I told you, when I allowed you to create this special cohort of
fabri?
'

Ennius grasped the head of the war hammer with one hand. ‘You said I must be a soldier first, an engineer second. My armour lies to hand, ready to put on when the work on the wall is done. And once the ballistas have unleashed hell, I will lead my cohort of
fabri
through the breach in the wall on the north side. We will fight through the streets and destroy the enemy. We will win more crowns and wreaths and bear more battle scars than any other unit in the army. My hammer and my sword will be steeped in Carthaginian blood.'

‘Good.' Scipio slapped him on the upper arm. ‘Now, to the preparations for war.'

21

Just as they were turning to go, a huge commotion erupted from the entrance to the circular harbour, and to Fabius' astonishment a small galley came powering through, its oarsmen pulling furiously. Behind it he could just make out a dark opening on the far side of the harbour that had evidently housed the galley, just within the Carthaginian defensive curtain. As the galley crashed through into the rectangular harbour, followed by legionaries shouting and hurling missiles at it from shore, his astonishment doubled. It was the same
lembos
that he and Scipio had seen three years earlier, recognizable by the distinctive rake of the bow. The crew of some twenty oarsmen were bent double to avoid the missiles and he could make out half a dozen men in the stern, cowering under shields. There would be no time to chain off the entrance to the harbour; nobody had expected a hidden shipshed, let alone a fully prepared and manned warship. Fabius ran up to the quay at the harbour entrance for a better view, and managed to catch a glimpse before the
lembos
swept round the corner and into the bay, powering past the anchored warships and heading for the open sea. It had only been a few seconds, but it had been enough for him to be certain.
The crew was Roman.

He turned and hurried back to tell Scipio. A centurion came running up from the circular harbour, followed by two legionaries, pushing a man ahead of them whose hands had been tied behind his back. The centurion saluted, caught his breath and gestured back. ‘This man's a Thracian mercenary, and he's deserted to us because he says he's got information for Scipio Aemilianus.'

Fabius glanced the man over, checking that he had been disarmed. ‘He can tell me.'

The centurion shook his head. ‘Only the general. It's about that
lembos.
'

Scipio had overheard, and came marching towards them. ‘If this man is telling the truth and has good information, I will spare him execution.'

The man stumbled forward and fell on his knees, speaking Greek. ‘I know about that
lembos.
I've guarded it for weeks now. The man who's just escaped in it is a Roman, called Porcus.'

Fabius stared at Scipio, astonished. It could only be the Porcus who had been his enemy from the backstreets of Rome, the wily thug who had grown up to be Metellus' right-hand man and adviser. They had last seen Porcus in Carthage during their reconnaissance three years earlier, but had not expected him to be here again. Scipio turned to the man. ‘Do you know what he was doing here?'

‘That's what I have to tell you. I overheard him talking to Hasdrubal. I want to be spared.'

‘If your information is good, you have my word.'

‘This man Porcus is going to Metellus in Greece with a message. He is to tell Metellus that Hasdrubal will surrender, but only to Metellus. Metellus is to return by the
lembos
and accept the surrender here beside the harbours.'

Everyone seemed stunned. Scipio stared at the ground for a moment, and then nodded at the centurion, who led the Thracian off to the nearest slave galley. Petraeus turned to him. ‘We have no time to spare. We have to cut him off. We have nothing as fast as that
lembos
in short bursts, but one of our
liburnae
could catch them up. The
lembos
is too small to carry a reserve complement of rowers, whereas the
liburnae
are large enough to rest some of the rowers and keep up the pace. But we must order a pursuit now. The captain of the
lembos
will be putting all of his effort into pulling away as fast as he can. Once they're out of sight, then we've lost them.'

Scipio turned to Ennius, who had joined them. ‘What do we have?'

‘My personal
liburna.
She's docked in the outer harbour on standby for my use so will be ready to go immediately. I use her for getting to the assault ships, and for going offshore to view the Carthaginian defences. She has a crack complement of Illyrian oarsmen, the best in the Mediterranean, and a section of thirty marines trained in ship-to-ship warfare. She's one of the vessels that we had specially designed and equipped under your instructions to counter the threat of Carthaginian privateering. She even has a ram.'

‘A
ram?
On a
liburna?
'

Ennius grinned. ‘My idea. A ram on a
liburna
wouldn't be much use against triremes and polyremes. But against other
liburnae
and smaller vessels such as the
lembos,
it's a potent weapon. The design of the
lembos
has sacrificed hull thickness for speed, so it would be vulnerable to ramming. When we reviewed the Roman fleet last year, we were no longer thinking of set-piece battle between triremes and polyremes, where vessels of the size of the
liburna
would have little direct role. We were thinking of a new kind of naval warfare involving swifter, smaller vessels, in response to the build-up of such vessels that you and Fabius saw when you got inside the circular harbour three years ago. If the Thracian mercenary is telling the truth, chasing down that
lembos
could make all of our preparations worthwhile.'

‘I want you to go to that
liburna
now and put the crew on a war footing. They will need extra water and provisions and be ready to leave in half an hour.'

‘By then the
lembos
may be out of sight.'

‘What her captain doesn't know is that we know their destination. If your captain lays in a north-easterly course for the Gulf of Corinth then you should catch them. You will not join them as I need you to remain here in charge of your
fabri
and the catapults. I need an officer who can identify the man we are after and who understands the urgency of the mission, but who is unattached to a unit here and can be spared. A man I can trust to terminate this threat.'

He looked to Fabius, and Ennius and Polybius followed his gaze. Fabius stood stiffly to attention. ‘I am sworn to remain by your side as your bodyguard, Scipio Aemilianus. I promised Polybius, and your father Aemilius Paullus.'

Scipio put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Polybius is here now, and he absolves you. We are no longer alone against the world, as we were in the Macedonian forest. I am now surrounded by an entire army of bodyguards, the best men a general could ever have. There is no more important mission than this one I am sending you on. You know Porcus personally, and you have fought him before. You have unfinished business with him. And if this
liburna
is as good as Ennius says it is, you should be back in time to watch my back when I order the assault on Carthage.'

Fabius remained at attention, and then saluted. ‘
Ave atque vale,
Scipio Aemilianus. The job will be done.' He turned to Ennius. ‘I will not let scum like Porcus deny me a place in the assault on Carthage. Let's move.'

*   *   *

An hour and a half later, Fabius stood in the bows of the
liburna
as she cut through the waves in pursuit of the
lembos,
his clothing drenched with spray and blinking hard to keep the salt from his eyes. It had been an exhilarating chase; with the galley riding the swell rather than wallowing in it, he had felt none of the discomfort that made sailing ships such an unpleasant experience for him. He stood on the starboard side, overlooking the forward sweep of the prow and the great bronze ram that sliced through the troughs a few feet ahead, rearing up and down like the school of dolphins that had accompanied them after they had left the shallow approaches to Carthage and rowed out over deeper water into the open sea.

To begin with, the
lembos
had pulled away at great speed, nimbler on the waves than the
liburna,
but her smaller crew had quickly tired of the pace and Fabius had gained on her, to the point where she was now almost within hailing distance directly ahead. The captain of the
liburna,
a swarthy Sardinian who had pushed his rowers relentlessly, had no intention of bringing the
lembos
to heel and every intention of trying out the ram, his first opportunity to use the ship in action and see whether the iron reinforcement along the length of the keel would keep it from buckling on impact. Fabius had concurred; he too had no intention of negotiating, and would give no quarter. The men on the
lembos
were Romans, a crew doubtless from Metellus' Aegean fleet, but rather than making him hesitate it strengthened his resolve. Romans who had been secretly harboured by the Carthaginians would be shown no mercy by Scipio, and it was Fabius' duty to carry out the orders he had been given when he had left the harbour.

On the opposite side of the bow platform was the naval centurion who commanded the marines, a unit of thirty shock troops who specialized in ship-to-ship assault, trained during peacetime to counter piracy. They knelt in pairs along the central walkway that ran the length of the galley, their swords drawn, bracing themselves for impact. The rowers were heaving at the oars faster now, the inner of the two men on each oar having been replaced by a fresh rower kept in reserve to help give a final burst of speed. Fabius gripped the rail as he watched the ram break completely free from the waves, the spray bursting back as it dropped down again and cleaved the sea like an arrow. Ahead of them the
lembos
was now less than three lengths away. Her captain was panicking, pushing the helmsman aside and heaving the steering oar himself, bringing the galley to port in a desperate attempt to escape but only leaving her exposed beam-on to the
liburna,
wallowing in the trough of a wave as her oarsmen gave up in terror and jumped from their benches towards the bow and stern, joining the small cluster of marines and other men, Porcus included, who must by now have known that their time was up.

‘Brace for impact!' The captain of the
liburna
bellowed at them from the stern, and the oarsmen gave a last mighty effort. Fabius drew his sword and squatted down as he had been shown to do, moving back from the railing so he would not be thrown into it. A second later there was a splintering crash as the ram sliced into the thin planks of the other galley's hull, cutting it nearly in half and driving the broken keel down as the
liburna
settled over it. He felt the galley heave forward in the swell, caught in the wreckage, and watched the expert axemen leap over the side and hack away at the keel to release it. Meanwhile, the marines had thrown out grapples and a
corvus
ladder on each side and were already among the
lembos
oarsmen, thrusting and hacking mercilessly. Fabius had spotted Porcus and jumped into the water over the wreckage, now red with blood, and sloshed his way towards a man standing alone in the stern, staring with disbelief as he recognized the one who was approaching him. The naval centurion saw Fabius' intent and ordered his men to hold back and finish off any others still alive in the wreckage. Fabius came within a few paces of the man, the water now up to his knees, and stood before him, staring with contempt. ‘Porcus Entestius Supinus, by order of the consul Lucius Scipio Aemilianus Africanus, you are condemned to death as a traitor.'