The Seven Hills(82)

The rest of the list of winners was even more satisfying. The key office was the tribunate of the plebs, and this year's slate included no fewer than five whose influence could be counted upon. This was enough to ensure almost any favorable legislation he might need. The Senate was powerful in assigning military commands, but the Plebeian Assembly could override Senate appointments. A tribune could veto an act of the Senate. A tribune could enact a bill to give command to a favorite of the plebs.

The old families had the prestige of long tenure in the Senate, but the new families were supreme in the popular assemblies where most of the work of Rome got done. And greatest of the new families were the Norbani.

He went into the great warehouse he had commandeered as his headquarters. Here his secretaries copied out his orders, his quaestors kept accounts, his officers rendered their reports. At one end of the huge room a crew of draftsmen worked at a crucial task. Norbanus had ordered maps drawn: maps of the whole littoral touched by the great Middle Sea. He wanted careful depictions of every port, every town, every river, with distances noted and resources listed. He knew how frustrating it was for a general to be lost, and how much easier it was to make plans if he knew what lay before him.

Greek skippers knew every foot of that coastline intimately, and he paid them well to yield their secrets. Titus Norbanus plundered mercilessly, but he did not value wealth for its own sake. Gold was just something with which to buy the important things. With gold he subverted foreign rulers. With gold he enriched his men and secured their loyalty to himself. He could buy the secrets of Greek traders and the services of spies. He could afford to spend lavishly because with these things at his disposal he could seize all the wealth in the world. Gold was good. Power was better.

He went to the table and called for a particular map. It depicted the coast of southern Gaul and Spain all the way to the Pillars of Hercules. This was where the Carthaginian, Mastanabal, had advanced and then retreated. Another showed the North African coast from the southern pillar all the way to Carthage. He had been studying these maps with intensity for some time, memorizing their every feature. He had plans for those particular stretches of coast.

Back outside, he listened to the sound of hammering from the shipyards and fretted once again, trying by sheer will to hurry the process. His expanded fleet had to be ready to sail by the next waxing moon. Then he would ride the sea to his destiny.




Queen Teuta sat beneath the shade of the awning stretched before her great tent. She had permanent quarters in the enormous palace of the shofet, but she could not abide stone walls and solid ceilings for long. After a few days they seemed to press in upon her and she had to go back to her tent. Always, she felt most at home beneath the limitless sky, where dwelt the spirits of her nomad ancestors.

She was bored and eager for action. The army was strong enough, the transport fleet almost completely rebuilt. There was nothing to be gained by further waiting. She wanted to urge Hamilcar to action, but she knew better. She had planted the seeds of her own plans, and now they had to reach fruition in his mind as if they had been his own. Too much pressure from her would ruin it.

"My queen, the shofet comes," said one of her guards.

"I hope he's made up his mind," she muttered.

Hamilcar arrived amid a suite of officers and an honor guard of a hundred Spanish horsemen. Teuta rose to greet him and he dismounted and took her hands.

"Queen Teuta," he said, "I have given orders. The army will begin its march on the morning after tomorrow. I will want you in the vanguard with me when we move west."

"West?" she said, marveling as if it were not her own plan to begin with. "We go to the Pillars and across the strait to Spain? It is a bold plan. I know it is one of several we discussed, but I considered it the most unlikely."

"I know," he said, "but for that very reason it is the last one the Romans will suspect. They think to lure me to Sicily. That island is a fought-over carcass now, and all its strong points are already in their hands. My army would starve while theirs rested behind strong walls. No, better to take Hannibal's old route, but with my navy accompanying us just offshore as we march."

She pretended doubt. "But the Romans are bold as well. They may cross from Sicily and lay siege to Carthage itself."

He shrugged. "The walls of Carthage are the strongest in the world. Only the subject people would suffer, and it's time they repaid Carthage for all they have gained from us. If the Romans come, they will pull back to Italy as soon as they know their precious seven hills are menaced."

"Then let us go to Spain, Your Majesty," she said, her tattooed face twisting into a smile.