The Seven Hills(115)

In order of rank, the officers filed from the platform. Norbanus watched them rejoin their units, saw the men stand and take up their shields and pila. He savored the moment. This was where he would lay the foundations for his future. Up until now, he had built a reputation, first as a daring commander, then as a victorious general. Here, on this field, he would establish his true greatness. And he would do it by eschewing glory for once.




By the time the sun was high, Hamilcar had his own observation and command platform erected. It was not as high as the rather Spartan Roman construction, but it was far more splendid. Its fine wood was richly carved and inlaid with ivory and shell. It was draped with beautiful cloth and adorned with bronze tripods in which burned incense to fend off the disagreeable smells of battle. His own throne, and the slightly lower throne of Queen Teuta, were covered with the skins of rare animals. At the shofet's right hand stood an altar consecrated to the gods of Carthage.

Hamilcar had performed all the prayers and sacrifices; he had seen to the final dispositions of his troops, and now he was ready to observe the battle and enjoy the pleasures of victory.

Opposite him, on the far side of the stream, the Roman army was thinly stretched, grown attenuated as Norbanus extended his line to avoid outflanking. It only thinned at the center, where his own troops would punch through by their sheer weight.

"Why," Hamilcar mused, "did this man Norbanus choose such an exposed field? I have studied the old Roman tactics, you know. In the old days, a Roman commander, faced with an enemy so much larger, would anchor his flanks with a swamp or a rocky hill or other terrain that would make it difficult for the enemy to flank him. That way he could achieve maximum depth all along his line of battle. I think Norbanus is overrated."

"I don't doubt he fancies he has a surprise for us," Teuta said, "though I can't imagine what it might be."

"No matter." Hamilcar stood, a resplendent sight in his golden armor and crown-shaped helmet. An attendant handed him a golden spear and Hamilcar held it high, then slowly lowered it until it pointed toward the center of the Roman line.

The horns brayed and the drums thundered and an enormous shout rose from the huge army. With a great surge, it began to advance toward the enemy. In front of the rest, the missile troops went forth at a run, singing tribal war songs. The Romans stayed where they were. The missile troops ran into the stream and began to flounder across.

Teuta felt the first feathery touch of apprehension along her spine. "That stream is deeper than it looks."

Hamilcar shrugged. "As long as it is fordable, that means nothing."

The missile troops halted before the Roman lines and began raining arrows, javelins and lead sling-bullets among them. The Romans replied by raising their customary shield roof. The more lightly equipped Gauls and Spaniards suffered more, but most of them obeyed Norbanus's instructions and stayed in place. A few high-spirited warriors ran out and attacked on their own, to little effect.

"This is tedious," Hamilcar complained, watching the missiles fall upon the shields. As far as he could see, not a single Roman had been harmed.

"Let them keep up their fire," Teuta advised. "Their arms have to get tired. Soon gaps will appear and the arrows will get through."

"No, I've seen them practice this formation before, outside Carthage and in the siege at Alexandria. It would take too long. I will send my army in and finish this." He nodded to an officer, who called out to the trumpeters, and the call went out from them for the missile troops and skirmishers to fall back. These men scrambled to find gaps for themselves to fade back within the advancing ranks.

Now the shield roof came down and the Roman legions began to advance, very slowly and deliberately, keeping their lines strictly dressed, in what was almost a parade-ground maneuver. The cavalry force rode to the right flank next to the Greek-Macedonian block and, strangely, halted there, keeping up with the advance at a walking pace. Hamiicar's lead regiments entered the stream and trudged across, many stumbling, some falling, thrashing briefly as the men behind trod them under.

On the eastern side of the stream they paused to dress their lines. At this point the Roman army had halted, foot and horse, barely fifty paces away. The Romans stood in utter calm, making no war cries, sounding no trumpets; neither did they wave weapons aloft. Only at their southern flank was there any uproar, for the Gauls and Spaniards had a noisy way of displaying their warrior spirit, and they did not depart from it now. Their countrymen in Hamilcar's army made similar demonstration.

Their order restored, Hamilcar's men advanced at the double-quick, and so many of them were of warrior races that soon they were half-running. When twenty paces separated the two armies, the arms of the first three Roman ranks rocked back as one, then shot forward. The terrible, heavy, viciously barbed pila arched briefly skyward, then plunged downward with awful force, sending men tumbling, skewered, pierced, bleeding, to the ground. Men had their shields nailed to their bodies, their bodies pinned to the ground. So tightly were the men packed that scarcely a Roman spear failed to kill or wound an enemy soldier. The weight of the heavy javelin at such close range carried it through armor, helmet or shield. Even when a shield was stout enough to resist the weapon, it could not be dislodged, forcing its bearer to abandon it and fight henceforth unprotected.