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Swords of Rome
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Текст книги "Swords of Rome"


Автор книги: Christopher Buckner



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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Antony broke from his father’s side once he saw Gaius enter the room. “It would have probably been best if you had stayed beyond the camp’s walls, protecting our supplies, my friend. At the very least, you wouldn’t have to endure this,” Antony commented once he joined Gaius.

His tone, as it typically was, was in good humor. However, Gaius could see the stress beneath his smile. It took him time getting used to seeing his boyhood friend in the uniform of a soldier, no less one of high rank. He carried the title of a senior Tribune, even though Antony had no military experience; he commanded thousands of men and officers, most, if not all of them with more experience than he.

“Well, at the very least we don’t have to spend the whole summer tracking Hannibal across the damn country,” Gaius replied as he tried to put a positive spin on the predicament the army was facing.

“True, I suppose,” Antony attempted a smile. “Oh, I nearly forgot.” He pulled out from underneath his tunic a sealed letter, before he handed it over. “This came for you today, from Rome, from my sister. I dare say that it is thicker than the note she sent me and my father,” Antony grinned as Gaius took the letter from him, trying his hardest not to seem too eager.

“Thank you. I shall read it when I have the time,” Gaius replied as he carefully tucked the letter away.

“I’m sure you will,” Antony laughed.

Both men’s attention was turned when they heard the sound of a jug breaking against the floor. It had been thrown by Varro, who cried out, “This is ridiculous! That bastard has cut us off from our supplies, brining about the real possibility that this army may starve to death before we have faced the enemy on the field. That is, of course, if we don’t die of thirst first, as the continued attacks on our water bearers make it impossible for us to reach the Aufidus river. And now, you suggest that we divide our forces into two camps.” Varro had the support of most of the officers in the tent, who voiced their agreement, demanding that Paullus and his supporters heed their master’s call to arms.

“That is why we must split our troops, to better protect our foraging parties, so we aren’t forced to withdraw from the field,” Paullus rebuked, sounding calmer than his rival and soon to be father-in-law.

Varro looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept for days. Gaius recognized the signs. The old senator wasn’t accustomed to military service. It had been decades since last Varro had worn armor, no less commanded troops into battle, and even then, never under these circumstances.

“The liability of our sizes has become our weakness,” Paullus added.

“Our size is our strength!” Varro cried, slamming his fist against a nearby table. “To separate, as you have suggested will weaken our position here. Already Hannibal’s cavalry has been emboldened to strike at our forward lines, coming just a few feet from our ramparts. I can’t afford to give him the opportunity to try something even bolder.”

Gaius was conflicted as the two sides continued their argument. He could see the wisdom in both, but he also knew that if the water problem wasn’t solved, starvation wouldn’t be an issue. If the army had to retreat because of supplies, the flank would be exposed to Hannibal’s forces. Weakened men from lack of food and water would die by the hundreds. Suddenly, Gaius wondered if ancient kings such as Xerxes, who brought a million men to Greece hadn’t faced such issues that threatened his invasion.

“Hannibal must be confronted, now!” Varro cried out. “I will take our legions out tomorrow and present ourselves for battle, as it is my right by law!”

“And if he does not stand, as he hadn’t yesterday, then what will be done?” Paullus asked, sensing the worst.

“Then, we shall storm Cannae and take back what is ours,” Varro replied, which brought a roar of approval from many of his supporters.

“Do not be such a fool, Varro!” Paullus yelled as he tried to be heard over those that stood with his opponent. However, years of debating in the Senate taught the old senator how to win the audience to his side.

“We cannot face Hannibal in the open. With the river to one side, the hills to another and a force of this size, we won’t be able to maneuver. We risk being enveloped!” Paullus pleaded as he tried to point out his military experience, but Varro and his supporters weren’t having any of it.

“Encircled! We outnumber the barbarians three to one. He doesn’t have the manpower to envelop our entire line, nor does Hannibal’s barbarian allies have the discipline to stand and fight in a pitched battle. They will buckle under our weight. By dusk, the ground will be littered with the dead of Hannibal’s horde, and Rome will again be safe,” Varro protested.

“Well, there you have it, my father the great general,” Antony commented with a sneer.

“Hannibal may not fight tomorrow, so everyone might be getting all worked up over nothing. The day after, Paullus will command, and he will have to act. Perhaps then a better solution will have presented itself,” Gaius commented.

“Tell me, my friend, if you were Hannibal, a man who probably knows us better than we know ourselves, who would you rather fight – Paullus or my father?” Antony asked.

Gaius sighed as the arguing continued for hours more. Neither side was willing to break from their standpoint, as both Paullus and Varro believed they had the winning strategy that would end the war. Both men knew what was at stake, but Gaius wondered how much the prospect of fame and immortal glory played into either man’s thinking. Win the day and Varro wouldn’t need Paullus and his money to rise higher in the Senate, which for Gaius meant, while distant, there was the possibility that he might not marry Julia to Paullus.

Paullus, on the other hand, already had great power and wealth, but not the support within the Senate. While popular during war, in peace he would be faced with an uphill battle to see any of his measures passed if Varro stood against him. The two families might be at odds for generation, if one man over the other defeated Hannibal in the coming days.

However, the other side to that coin, Hannibal somehow defeating both men, was a future that was more frightful. Both men would lose everything, if they survived, but Rome might be the ultimate victim if these men did not find a way to work together, for the benefit of the Republic, or all might be lost come morning.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


Both Gaius and Valerius stood before Antony, who had summoned both men. It was well past nightfall, and the long meeting between Paullus and Varro had come to a conclusion, with no meaningful results.

While Antony did not outrank either man, as son of Varro, co-leader of the vast army sent to crush Hannibal, he carried his father’s authority and had been tasked with issuing his orders. Gaius could see that it troubled his friend, as he sat behind a long desk, surprisingly small before the two veterans.

Antony looked as if he hadn’t slept in days as large droopy bags hung under his eyes, which were blood-shot from having spent too many hours going over paperwork inside the dimly lit tent. Gaius wondered when the last time Antony ate as the man looked ten stones lighter.

Antony cleared his throat as he reached for a rolled-up parchment that sat among a stack of documents and clay tablets.

“My father is reassigning a portion of the Sixth Legion, three cohorts to the town of Canusium. We will be using it as a secondary supply depot and hospital for wounded, after the battle. I expect you and your men to hold the town against any possible Carthaginian counterattack,” Antony said as he handed the orders over to Valerius.

“Understood,” Valerius replied, his words calm and collective, as always. However, Gaius’ mouth hung open, dumbfounded by what Antony had just said.

Valerius nodded without saying another word before he turned on his heels and started to leave. However, Gaius remained fixed at his spot, staring down at Antony, angry by what he had just done.

Valerius said nothing to Gaius, knowing full well what his pupil was going to say. So, he left the two boys alone.

“What are you doing?” Gaius demanded.

“Canusium is important to our efforts. My father needs good men who can be trusted to safeguard the town,” Antony replied, sitting back down in his chair.

“Your father did not issue these orders, did he?” Gaius suddenly realized as he stared down at his friend, who was silent for a long while.

Antony took a deep breath. “The orders to hold Canusium do come from him. However, the decision to send you is my reasoning,” Antony admitted.

“Dammit, Antony! Why do this to me?”

Antony bolted out from his chair and slammed his fists down upon his desk.

“What do you expect me to do?” he cried out. “You were in that meeting. You heard my father speak. Those damn fools will follow him to the gates of Tartarus if he asked them, which is right where he is taking this army.”

Antony took a deep breath before he continued, this time his voice low and calmer.

“They underestimate Hannibal. They all have from the first day of this war, and no one; my father chief among them will listen to reason. He believes that he can win through numbers. I fear, however, that will be our undoing.”

Antony closed his eyes as he placed his hands over his head, holding his face sorrowfully as he sighed deeply.

“I’ve seen this day in a dream, for years now: the ground littered with the dead of our countrymen – our heads mounted on spikes, and the parts of our body stacked so high that the sun was blocked out. Even the river turned bright red, running with the blood of our people. Doom is upon us and there isn’t anything that can be done about it.”

“Antony, it is only a dream.”

“I wish it were.”

Antony reached into his tunic and pulled the broken half of the clay medallion he had worn since that day, now years past when Gaius left home. He looked down at it, a sad smile on his face as he rubbed it with his thumb.

“Do you still wear your half, Gaius?” Antony asked without looking up.

“Of course I do. I have never taken it off.”

“Then you remember that day outside the arena, the day the old man told us the story of Lupus – well, more telling it to you. That was one of the happiest days of my life, even after what we saw later that evening. I still cherish those memories. Things were much simpler back then. The world made more sense to me when we played in the fields, pretending to be heroes, as if it were in our power to change the world.” Antony sighed heavily, “It is a cruel fate to grow up, isn’t it my friend?”

“Those days were good. However, all boys must grow into men.”

Antony looked over at Gaius, staring at him for a long while before he spoke again.

“I am a coward, Gaius. I do not belong here, leading men such as you. You are the man, the soldier, Gaius, not I. I have always admired you for your courage and strength, even when we were children. I know you let me win many of our bouts, and I think I loved you more for that kindness. Even then, I wasn’t you. I did not have your heart, and I know I will not live to see and do the things you have already done. You have to live, my friend. When this battle is over, Rome will be at risk – Julia will be in danger. She loves you with all her heart, as I know you love her. You were always there for her, and for Rome. You have to protect them both.”

Antony stepped around his desk and reached out, taking Gaius’ hand into his.

“You have to swear to me, my brother, that you will protect her – my sister, from men like Hannibal. You have to take her far from here if it seems the city will fall. I ask that you promise this to me…please, Gaius, promise,” Antony pleaded, his words heavy with sorrow as he stared with saddening purpose into Gaius’ eyes.

Gaius lowered his head, but only for a moment as he struggled to say what Antony wanted him to say.

“I swear it, Antony. I swear upon my honor that I will protect her. However, you do not need to fear. Neither you nor I are going to fall.”

Antony nodded before he hugged Gaius, holding him tightly.

Gaius couldn’t help but feel that Antony was saying good-bye to him, even as he attempted to agree with him that all would be well.

Some hours later Gaius stood alone on top the wooden walls that surrounded the Roman camp. Within, a hundred thousand men slept, and for the most part, they were unaware of what tomorrow was going to bring, if indeed, Hannibal accepted battle when Varro marched the army onto the field. However, it would not matter if they were aware. Most wouldn’t care about the fuss the officers and nobility had made, nor would many have understood. All they needed to know was their enemy was out there, less than two miles away, and tomorrow, politics aside they would finally have their chance to face Hannibal and his horde, believing they would win a great victory, one that would be remembered for all time.

Gaius wished he could think as simply as many of the men under his command. The logistics, the tactics, the men who claimed to lead this army, it gave him terrible headaches. He wished the world worked the way it used to during the classical age. Why send so many out to die, Roman and Carthaginian when those that started this fight could face one another in the field, and settle their difference in single combat? It was simple and honest, and would save countless thousands – fathers, husbands, sons and brothers from having to be unleashed on one another, so that other men may grow powerful.

The burden and guilt of knowing that so many of his people weren’t going to go home was what got under his skin. He wanted to give his men more than a bloody death from a battle that should never have been fought. They deserved more – they deserved long and happy lives: to have and watch their children grow, get into trouble, see their children have children, and then to die, in bed, surrounded by loved ones. That was peace. That was happiness. Not this.

Nevertheless, the world did not work so. Instead, Gaius had to do everything in his power to ensure his men’s safety. He had to train them hard, and teach them to kill without a second’s thought. They were soldiers, and all had sworn an oath to the Republic.

Gaius stared up at the star-filled sky. Its beauty was the one true thing that felt natural; a small comfort at least. He wondered, however, gazing up at the heavens, why the gods toyed with men. Why they took such joy in seeing their children tear each other apart for little or no gain? How better the world would be if the gods had never existed.

Suddenly, Gaius remembered the letter that Antony had given him earlier in the evening.

Removing it from under his tunic, he carefully broke the seal. Right away, as he opened the papyrus, Julia’s scent enveloped him, which caused him to close his eyes and picture in his mind’s eye her touch against his bare skin.

He carefully read each word by the torchlight, studying each sentence with meticulous care.

Dearest Gaius,

It troubles me that we are apart for so long. I miss you more than my simple words can express. I know we have said much to one another and have spent a great deal of time together, but it is still not enough. I long for your touch, the warmth of your body against mine, the touch of your lips. I know that for whatever reasons the fates have conspired to keep us apart, and that I’m destined to marry a man I can never love as much as I love you. However, I can’t curse the gods either. I cannot bring myself to hate them, for I’m grateful for the time we shared together – what it has meant to me. I cannot pretend that I understand everything that is going on in the world, why you must be away from me in body, but not soul. Each day away from you brings tears to my eyes. I fear what might be, what darkness might lie over the horizon. I’m frightened for you, Gaius. I’m fearful that you won’t come back to me. I can’t live without you, and that scares me even more. Please, Gaius, please come back to me. I will always be waiting for you, my love.

Be well and be safe.

Eternally,

Julia.

Gaius heard someone coming towards him. He quickly folded the letter and placed it back under his tunic. He didn’t bother to turn around. He didn’t care who might be walking towards him, as he only wished to be left alone.

“It is a beautiful night, don’t you think, Prefect?”

Gaius turned sharply when he realized it was Paullus standing next to him, before he quickly saluted the consul, but he was stopped as Paullus raised his hand quickly and said, “No, please, no formalities. I only want to stand here and enjoy this wonderful view with you, Gaius. Is that all right?”

“Of course, sir, if you wish,” Gaius replied as he turned back and looked out over the far horizon, towards the town of Cannae and the glimmering torchlight of Hannibal’s encampment.

“You are close friends with Varro’s son, Antony, and his sister, Julia, are you not?” Paullus asked after a short pause. He seemed to hesitate in asking his question, as if he had been afraid to even utter a word.

Gaius looked over at Paullus, puzzled, knowing that the consul already knew the answer to that question. However, Paullus kept his eyes fixed upon the horizon, seemly not particularly looking at anything.

“Yes, sir, I’ve known both since I was a child.”

“Then you are close to them?”

Paullus spoke softly.

“I would like to think I am,” Gaius answered simply.

“I’ve only known them for a short while. When I was first approached by Varro and offered to marry his daughter, I was hesitant. I always, foolishly I will admit, though I would marry for love, and not political gain. However, when I first met her, I knew then that all my apprehension was for naught. She is intoxicating. I could never have imagined that a woman such as her could exist; it is enough to make you – “Paullus paused as he looked for the right words.

“To believe in the gods and all the possibilities unseen or unspoken,” Gaius added.

Paullus smiled as he glanced over towards Gaius.

“Yes, exactly. When I’m around her, I feel that I can fly, or scale the tallest mountains – that I can be a better man. I don’t know how to properly express it. I wish I was born a poet. Oh, how I envy you Gaius. I would have loved to have known her as long as you have, to share as much as you two. I’ve seen the way she is around you, how comfortable you make her feel. If only I could make her feel the same.” Paullus sighed heavily. “I know that she does not love me the same as, I do her, but how I wish to just have the chance to be with her longer, to build her a better world. However, I know she doesn’t love me. She will marry me, of course, as is demanded of her, and maybe in time she may come to care deeply for me, but love…” Paullus shook his head, fearful of his own words.

“Could you live as I, Gaius?” Paullus asked as he turned to him.

“No, I could not, sir,” Gaius answered honestly.

“You are a good man, sir,” Gaius spoke honestly. “She knows that, and will love and admire that man, as long as you stay truthful to yourself, and do everything in your power to make her happy, beyond material wealth. I understand her enough to know that she values certain qualities, such as honor and truthfulness more than anything you could ever buy her. She will love a man who embodies these things.”

Paullus smiled as he let his mind drift for a moment, thinking long on Gaius’ words. He then turned and looked over at him before he placed his hand down onto Gaius’ shoulder.

“Thank you, my friend.” With those words, Paullus turned and headed back down the stairs, before he disappeared into the camp.

Gaius remained where he was for a moment longer as he stared up into the heavens and again watched the flickering stars high above him – his mind a hundred miles away, back in Rome, with Julia.

He reached back into his tunic and pulled out the letter she sent him. He read it again. He needed to remember her, to see her in his mind’s eye. Her word, which expressed her true feelings for him was all he had left.


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