Hannibal's Children (15 page)

It was a good thing for Carthage, Hamilcar mused, that for all their wonderful multiplicity of talents, the Greeks lacked the most important of them. They were political imbeciles, unable to unite for any length of time against a common enemy, unable to form lasting governments. The Greeks treated political life as if it were a contest in the Olympics, with each man, each faction, each city and citystate, each empire contending with all the others for preeminence. No sooner would they defeat a foreign enemy than they fell to war among themselves, wiping out all their gains and bleeding themselves white.

Even the empire of Alexander had not put an end to it, although the Macedonians were certainly more militarily talented than their Greek cousins. The successors of Alexander had not been able to hold the empire together and had fallen out among themselves like the Greeks, but at least they had split into a number of sizable, powerful nations and empires ruled by Macedonian-descended dynasties, all of them troublesome to Carthage.

Hamilcar had called a morning meeting of his military counsel to discuss his plans for one of those dynasties, the Ptolemies of Egypt. For centuries Ptolemaic Egypt had lain between Carthage and the Seleucid dynasty that ruled Persia and Asia Minor. The first Ptolemies, descendants of Alexander's general of that name, had been capable rulers, but the line had grown weak and decadent. Now Egypt, incomparably rich and fruitful, presented a tempting target for conquest. The question remained: Who would do the conquering?

The Seleucids of Persia had fought a long series of wars to dispossess the Antigonids of Asia Minor, and now they controlled a vast territory from the Hellespont to the Red Sea, from the Middle Sea to the borders of India: all of the old Persian Empire except for Egypt. The current king, Seleucus V, was now casting covetous eyes upon the kingdom of the Nile. He was being hard-pressed by Parthian invaders from the east, but the spoils of Egypt would give his faltering empire new vigor.

"How stand our preparations?" Hamilcar asked his senior general, Mastanabal. The Shofet sat at his ease on the great throne, made of solid gold and draped with the skins of rare albino lions. His advisors sat before him in two rows facing one another; an even score of the most distinguished men of Carthage.

"Ten myriads are now encamped at Utica and Sicca, undergoing the final stages of training and drill, my Shofet," Mastanabal said. He was a traditionalist who eschewed all foreign influences. His hair and beard were long in the ancient Carthaginian fashion, and when not in military uniform he wore the elaborate robes and jewelry of his station.

"Ten myriads will not be sufficient," Hamilcar said. "Enough to take Egypt, certainly, but not enough to hold it should Antiochus strike. We need more."

"I spoke of the regular troops who will fight as infantry, of course, "Mastanabal said." We have seven wings of Spanish and Gallic cavalry and pledges of up to twenty thousand irregular Libyan cavalry. With our war elephants, our fleet and with the Sacred Band in reserve, we should have more than sufficient forces for the campaign and the conquest."

"We need more," Hamilcar insisted. "I've ordered troops raised in Italy and I am in negotiations with Lysimachus of Macedonia to supply us with phalanxes of pikemen."

"My Shofet," said Hirham, an elderly nobleman, "surely Seleucus is in identical negotiations with Lysimachus as well. You cannot take the field depending upon such aid. Only when the soldiers are here and securely under your command can you count on Macedonian support."

"Of course, of course," Hamilcar said impatiently. "But I must have more troops."

While he listened to his admiral drone on about ships, oarsmen, marines and supplies, he let his mind wander.

He was a king. The ancient title, Shofet, meant "judge," but the shofets of Carthage had been kings in all but name since the first Hannibal. But his empire was built on commerce and the military reputation of Carthage had been in decline for some time. A king who had no reputation as a warrior was an object of contempt. Rivals would feel free to encroach upon his holdings. His great navy was of no avail against the desert tribes to the south and west. Sea power would not deter Antiochus from marching his massive army into Egypt.

A preemptive invasion of Egypt would put a halt to the ambitions of Seleucus and would give pause to the growing menace of Parthia. It would establish Hamilcar II as the greatest king of the known world. Above all, he wanted to be compared favorably with his ancestor Hannibal the Great.

While they were deliberating, a naval messenger arrived and laid a bronze message tube by the Shofet's right hand. Silently, the man withdrew. After a few minutes of pondering, Hamilcar picked up the tube, noted the design on the seal and idly broke it. He withdrew the papyrus and read with growing amusement and puzzlement. When they heard him chuckling, the council turned to see what caused their Shofet such mirth.

"Romans!" he said at last. "Our governor Hanno has sent a delegation of Romans to call on us! What next? Assyrians? Hittites?"

"Can this be?" said Hirham.

"It seems they've been living among the blond-haired barbarians of the north and have founded a state up there in the wilderness. I thought they must have all perished, but it appears that they still live, if these aren't imposters."

"Why would anyone bother to impersonate Romans?" Mastanabal said.

"We shall see," Hamilcar told them. "Hanno says they may afford me some amusement, and if anyone knows about amusement, it's Hanno." The others chuckled dutifully. Tarentum was the sort of place the Barca family sent relatives who were considered unfit for important military commands or governorships.

"Refresh us, Lord Hirham," the Shofet said. "You are an historian. We all know the name, but I confess I know little else about the Romans except that they were our stubborn enemies. What sort of people were these Romans?" Hirham was a tiresome old pedant, but his knowledge of Carthaginian history was comprehensive and he fancied himself the Punic Herodotus, having written many long and boring books on the subject.

"At the time of our first war with them," Hirham said, "they were the lords of most of Italy. They were actually little more than a confederation of tribes that spoke a language called Latin. They had recently established ascendancy over the Samnite people, who spoke a related but differing language. Prior to that time we had numerous treaties with the Romans, involving trade relations, forbidding them our shores south of the Fair Cape, specifying that, should a Roman ship strike our shores due to war or weather, it could carry away no more than was required for repairs or sacrifice to the gods. Likewise, they were not to—"

"Yes, yes," the Shofet broke in, "very erudite. But what sort of people were they?"

"I know they gave us a hard fight," Mastanabal said.

"Decidedly," Hirham concurred. "They were a martial people in a most—unusual way."

This was more like it. "How so?" Hamilcar asked.

"They were not an ever-victorious people like ourselves. They did not cultivate an image of invincibility like the old Spartans. They could scarcely have done so, considering how many times they were defeated in their early history."

"Then where did their martial renown come from?"

"The Romans had a certain—ah—persistence in prosecuting a war. Unlike other people, they were never demoralized by defeat. Instead, they analyzed what they had done wrong and corrected the error. They did not blame their defeat on the gods or on impiety or on performing some ritual incorrectly. They found out what the mistake was, and they never made that mistake again."

"Most unusual," Hamilcar said, nodding.

"And they learned from their enemies. At first, they were armed like the Greek hoplites with spear and round shield. They found that the long oval shield used by their Samnite foes was better and they made it standard throughout their legions. When they first fought our Spanish troops, they were very impressed with the Spanish short sword and adopted it. Likewise, they adopted the Gallic mail shirt and so forth. Unlike the Greeks they created very little for themselves, but they readily adopted all the best things from their neighbors and even from their enemies.

"They gained great renown from their war with King Pyrrhus of Epirus. He was the greatest general of his day, with the finest army in the world: He defeated the Romans in a number of battles, but at such cost to himself that he was obliged to retire from Italy. After he was gone, the Roman Senate sent a commission to study the excellent fortified camps he had built in southern Italy. The Senate ordered that henceforth all Roman camps were to be constructed on that plan."

"What sort of nation wins by losing?" Mastanabal asked.

"This, perhaps, was the greatest strength of Rome," Hirham said. "The Romans did not believe in myths of invincibility, such as that enjoyed by the Spartans before Leuctra. Defeat, even a catastrophic one, was never more than a temporary setback. If their army was destroyed, they raised another army and made sure that it did not fall prey to the mistake that destroyed the last one. Nor did multiple defeats deter them. Even the great Hannibal, after all his victories, feared that the Romans might raise one last, formidable army to face him."

"Impressive," said Hamilcar. "What sort of soldiers were they?"

"The legions were made up of property-owning citizens, mostly small farmers, bearing standardized arms and equipment. The better-off men were heavy infantry, the poorer sort light-armed skirmishers. They had few cavalry and those were inferior. Their greatest military strength lay in their discipline. They scorned individual heroics and stressed great cohesion and instant obedience to orders. Your ancestor Hannibal the Great was very impressed by their fine order and discipline."

"And their government?" Hamilcar asked.

"A republic not dissimilar to our own of that time. The duties of government fell upon the wealthiest men, who served at their own expense. Where we had the Hundred, they had a body called the Senate, which was composed of men who had held elective office. At the top, where we in those days had two Shofets, they had two officials called Consuls, each of whom could overrule the other. They did not want too much power concentrated in the hands of one man. The period of office was a single year for all officials, and elections were held annually."

"That sounds cumbersome," Hamilcar remarked.

"So it was," Hirham agreed. "The great families competed vigorously for office and honors, and they subverted each other at every turn. This division of power was probably their greatest weakness. Your ancestor took advantage of it on more than one occasion."

"Yes, I remember," Hamilcar said. "These consuls commanded the army on alternate days, did they not? And did Hannibal not choose to fight the battle of Cannae on a day when he knew the less capable man would be in command?"

Hirham nodded. "No general was ever more wily than Hannibal."

"Well, then," said Hamilcar in high good humor, "so much for the old Romans. Shall we see what their degenerate descendants are like?"

"Begging my Shofet's favor," said Mastanabal. "I have a war to prepare for. May I be excused this 'amusement'?"

"You may not," Hamilcar snapped. "Hanno thinks they may have some military potential for us. He is no Hannibal, but no Barca is an utter fool. You will remain and give me your assessment of these people."

The general touched his breast and bowed. "Of course. I crave my Shofet's pardon."

"Granted." He gestured toward the chamberlain who stood by the door. "Admit these Romans."

The Romans entered the great hall, stone-faced as always when on official business before foreigners. The pose, usually so natural to them, was difficult to maintain on this occasion. Their trek from the naval harbor to the great palace of the Byrsa had been a dreamlike and humbling walk among wonders.

Once past the stunning naval facility they found themselves in a great plaza where it seemed that half the world traded or lounged. They had thought Tarentum to be marvelous, but this great market was itself as large as Tarentum. In its center towered a colossus of bronze, a god fifty feet high with the body of a man, the head, talons and wings of an eagle. It stood upon a four-wheeled bronze base, its lower half smudged with soot and the whole idol reeking of the rendered fat of sacrifices.

The buildings surrounding the vast, open space were immense, some of them temples, others devoted to government service, yet others with no use the Romans could guess. They were magnificent, constructed of colorful marble, bronze roofed and glittering with precious metals, but there was a disturbing diversity of architectural styles. A typical temple would have a facade sporting Greek columns in the Ionic style, Babylonian construction for its walls and its roof in the shape of an Egyptian pyramid. Everywhere, they saw this jumble of architectural styles, as if the Carthaginians had no style of their own and plundered the world for designs they could use.

The people thronging the plaza were even more diverse and polyglot than the buildings. There were Libyan tribesmen with knotted hair dressed in flowing robes and soot black Nubians wearing leopard skins, well-groomed Greeks beside towering, austere Ethiopians, Egyptians in black wigs and white kilts bargaining with Jewish merchants who wore striped coats and pointed caps. To their astonishment, the Romans recognized check-trousered Gauls with spiky, lime-washed hair and sweeping mustaches who conversed with tattooed Scythians in Greek. Thracian mercenaries with their hair tied in topknots policed the market, although their only weapons were long hardwood staffs. There were many, many others whose origin could only be guessed at.

As they pressed farther into the city, they encountered a greater density of the native Carthaginian population. They were for the most part a slender people, swarthy of complexion with strongly marked features, their hair and the beards of the men almost uniformly dark. Here, too, many affected Greek fashions, both men and women. The wealthy, of whom the city seemed to have astonishing numbers, were carried about in ornate litters and many of them were obese.