Total War Rome: Destroy Carthage (23 page)

‘But war is not a gladiatorial contest,' Fabius said.

‘Don't be too sure of it,' Ennius replied. ‘You have yet to campaign against this enemy for as long as I have. You cannot choose between starving a city out and storming it, one or the other. You must satisfy your own men, who will expect a bloody finale, and also the honour of an enemy, who will only allow themselves to be vanquished once they have been defeated in battle. Only then will they submit.'

‘We will let hunger do its worst, and then offer terms,' Scipio said.

‘The Intercatians will only submit when they can no longer fight. They will eat boiled hides, and their own clothing. Their wives and children are watching them, and will expect them to fight to the death in front of their own eyes. Those who survive will ask for death rather than submit to slavery.'

‘Then they would have their wish,' Scipio said.

Ennius pointed to the diorama. ‘So, to the final phase at Numantia. What would you do after it had capitulated?'

‘I would not make the mistake that was made at Carthage sixty years ago. I would raze Numantia to the ground. I would divide their territory equally among the surrounding
oppida,
to make friends for us of those who had once been enemies. For the same reason I would take the sons of the surviving warriors to Rome, not to humiliate them but to show them in my triumphal processions as the noble and worthy adversaries that they are. I would educate them as Roman officers like Gulussa and Hippolyta and put them in charge of an auxiliary Celtiberian force to fight alongside Rome as we advance north over the mountains into Gaulish territory, which is where I would go after vanquishing them. The legacy of the siege of Numantia would not be the empty triumph of a foe so beaten down that they could never rise again, but the celebration of a foe turned to fight for Rome.'

Ennius grinned at him. ‘You sound fresh out of the academy. Polybius would be proud of you. But I have served three long years against the Celtiberians, and a long campaign wears a commander down, Scipio. Noble intentions get lost in the mud and the squalor. You might be less magnanimous in defeat, less inclined to look to the future. When you see your own men suffering and dying for little gain, the desire to finish the war by whatever means possible closes down your vision of the enemy, and leaves you less merciful. And after a long siege you must accede to the wishes of your men too. A weak general might agree to allow them to plunder and massacre. A stronger general would bar them from the gates of the vanquished citadel, but be a man whom they would follow for no other reason than to draw strength from his virtue and his honour. Would you be such a general?'

Scipio picked up his leather wrist guard and buckled it on, squinting at the walls of the
oppidum.
‘Well, all I can tell you is that Licinius Lucullus is most definitely
not
such a general. What do the centurions say, Fabius?'

Fabius helped Scipio to tie the leather thongs around the wrist guard. ‘Those who have served out here as Ennius has say that peace with the Celtiberians was hard won, and that Lucullus has only reignited the conflict in the hope of an easy victory to make it seem as if the war was won during his consulship. They say he has stoked his new legion with promises of plunder that the veterans know is not to be had among the Celtiberians, and can only lead to destruction and carnage by ill-trained legionaries seeking retribution after they find nothing to loot. The veterans respect the Celtiberians as warriors, and would rather they were our allies and comrades-in-arms. They expect much of you, Scipio. Those few who were at Pydna know of your courage in battle, but it is your name that gives them hope. A son of Aemilius Paullus and a grandson of the great Scipio Africanus can only lead them to greater glory. They look not to further campaigning in Spain, but to Africa.'

Scipio lifted the other arm, and Fabius picked up the second leather guard. ‘I have to prove myself here first. Pydna was seventeen years ago, and I am twice the age I was then. Few of the centurions here now can have been there.'

Ennius jerked his head towards the rough track leading up to the tent, where a man on horseback had clattered up and dismounted beside the guard post. ‘Speaking of Lucullus, that looks like one of his gallopers. Let's hear what he has to say.'

11

The messenger who had dismounted from his horse hurried towards them, putting his right hand on his chest in salute. He was a man Fabius knew and trusted, Quintus Appius Probus, an experienced legionary of the old guard who had been made a messenger because he could ride and had been wounded in the leg. ‘I have news from Cauca. The
oppidum
has fallen.'

Ennius looked at him sharply. ‘Fallen? But my catapults weren't ready. Without them, they'd never have breached the walls.'

‘They didn't have to. It was a negotiated capitulation.'

‘
Negotiated?
Lucius Licinius Lucullus? That's one for the books.'

‘It wasn't the general who did the talking. It was the senior tribune on his staff, Sextus Julius Caesar.'

‘Ah,' Ennius replied. ‘Julia's brother.' He turned to Scipio. ‘He's a linguist, and can speak their language. One of their household slaves in Rome was an old Celtiberian chieftain, a warrior whom Hannibal brought over to his cause when he marched through here with his elephants on the way to Rome. Do you remember him, Scipio? He taught us how to use the Iberian double-edged sword.'

Scipio nodded, and then peered at the man. ‘You look troubled, Quintus Appius. There's more to tell, isn't there? You can speak freely. You have my word.'

Quintus cleared his throat. ‘Sextus guaranteed the safety of the people in return for them allowing a Roman garrison to occupy the
oppidum.
Lucullus himself led them in. But it was a maniple from the new legion, the men Lucullus himself had recruited from the fourth district in Rome, promising them plunder and then press-ganging those who refused to volunteer. I grew up on the edge of that quarter, and I know what they're like. They make the best legionaries if trained with an iron hand, the worst if not. The only action these men have ever seen is gang warfare in Rome after the chariot races; the only discipline the lashes from the military proctors when they were herded into the ships for Iberia.'

Scipio's jaw was set grimly. ‘So what happened?'

Lucullus allowed them to plunder the
oppidum.
But we all know that the Celtiberians have little to offer. They're shepherds and cattle-herders, not traders. These new recruits have been spoiled by stories of loot from Macedonia, and think every foreign city is heaped high with gold and silver. But when they found nothing in Cauca, Lucullus gave them second best. He is a good enough general to know that men sent to war who have not yet killed will want their bloodlust satiated, and then when they have done so it will occupy their thoughts for days to come, until they want more.'

Scipio stepped back, shutting his eyes for a moment and pinching the top of his nose. ‘Don't tell me.'

‘All of the male inhabitants. They rounded them up and hacked them to death, and then set fire to the place.'

‘Jupiter above,' Ennius muttered.

Scipio took a deep breath, and gritted his teeth. ‘How long ago?'

‘Six hours. I came as fast as I could. I am to warn you that Lucullus is on his way here, and his men will expect more of the same. They should arrive by nightfall.'

‘The entire legion?'

Quintus nodded. ‘Including the maniple that went into the
oppidum.
That place has no need of a garrison any more.'

Ennius grunted. ‘At least they'll bring the ballistas with them. Then I can begin bombarding Intercatia properly. If they don't capitulate soon, it's the only way we're going to force their surrender. It'll only be a matter of time before they hear what has happened at Cauca. They use runners to pass news between the
oppida,
and sometimes we don't catch them.'

Quintus turned to Scipio. ‘There might still be a chance for you to negotiate a surrender before Lucullus arrives. The Celtiberian prisoner who interprets for us at headquarters told me that there are only two Romans they know to be with the army in Spain that they trust, Sextus Julius Caesar and Scipio Aemilianus. Sextus negotiated the peace with them last year before Lucullus arrived to start his own war, but now of course they will have lost all faith in Sextus' ability to make his general keep the Roman side of the bargain. With you, though, it might be different. You were not part of the previous campaign, so they don't know your measure. They only know you as one who shares the name of Scipio Africanus, the great general who defeated Hannibal and was magnanimous to the Celtiberian warriors in Hannibal's vanquished army, keeping only a few as slaves in Rome and executing only the top chieftains. You, they might still listen to, and trust.'

‘Only if I show them that I can back my words with force,' Scipio murmured, squinting up through the drizzle at the walls. ‘I need to assault the
oppidum,
and bring them to their knees. Only when they see that the legionaries are under my control will they believe my word.'

Ennius looked at him. ‘Be careful about taking matters into your own hands, Scipio Aemilianus. Remember that Lucullus is your general, and your patron. Think of where you'd be without him.'

‘I know too well,' Scipio said. ‘I'd be back in Macedonia, a provincial aedile under the thumb of Metellus, setting up a law court in some town so obscure it would hardly be worth Metellus' while to try to make me disappear for good, with my continuing survival as a dead-end official giving him something to gloat over. I have Lucullus' boorishness to thank for that, the quality that allowed him to ride roughshod over the Senate when I volunteered for Spain and to have my appointment to Macedonia postponed. But I also know how it works in Rome. Lucullus is consul, but that's only for a year. He's a
novus homo,
a new man from an unknown family. He's already been placed under house arrest by the tribunes for his heavy-handedness in recruiting for his legion in Rome, and now he's gone against the express instructions of the Senate by reigniting the war when he was only supposed to come out here to establish a garrison. I have to be thankful to Lucullus and his war for giving me my first field appointment since Pydna. But a Lucullus is no patron for a Scipio. I'd never rise above military tribune, and a year from now I'd be looking back on a military career that would be the envy of nobody, of promise unfulfilled.'

‘So what will you do?' Ennius said.

Scipio paused. ‘I always remember the words of my father: The only true path to glory is through your own deeds on the battlefield, as a warrior and as a leader of men, and it is only those deeds that will secure your reputation. I will earn the esteem of my men, and the trust of my enemies. If there is to be a future for Scipio Aemilianus it will be won through his reputation and his
fides,
his word of honour.'

Ennius eyed him, and then jerked his head towards the walls. ‘Will you take an assault force through the breach?'

‘We have five hours until sundown, and then the arrival of the legion. The Celtiberians are always on the alert, but will not be expecting an attack this late in the day. How soon can you be ready?'

Ennius peered intently at him. ‘We have five hundred men waiting on your every word. They are itching to go. We can launch an assault within the hour.'

Scipio nodded, and then looked at Quintus. His face was set, and he had fire in his eyes. ‘Find a
pilum,
and sharpen your blade. We are going to war.'

Quintus saluted and left. Fabius turned to Scipio. ‘You should know that there is discontent among the centurions.'

Scipio peered at him. ‘Speak freely.'

Fabius paused. ‘It is about Lucullus being a
novus homo.
That's another reason why he needs to offer his men plunder and blood. They know that he has come from nowhere, that he is one of them, that two generations ago his family were butchers in the Cattle Forum. The legionaries expect one of their own to rise to be
primipilus,
but not to be army commander. He is a rabble-rouser, like one of the tribunes of the people in Rome, pandering to these men as if they are still the undisciplined street thugs they were when he rounded them up, and not legionaries. The legionaries expect their officers to be patricians with an honourable lineage of military service in their families, men who will lead from the front. Lucullus is neither of those things. You may feel that you still have to prove yourself worthy of your lineage, Scipio, but the battle-hardened centurions would follow you over Lucullus any day.'

Ennius spoke quietly. ‘Keep these thoughts to yourself, Fabius. Scipio is only a tribune and we only have a maniple of five hundred men, most of them
fabri.
It is here before the walls of Intercatia that he must earn his reputation, not as a usurper responding to the discontent of a few centurions. When he is a legate, perhaps, but not now. Rome would destroy him for breaking the rules.'

‘I do not fault Lucullus for ordering the draft,' Scipio said pensively. ‘He was punished because he conducted it as it should be conducted, without favouritism, and refused to exempt those who had been promised it by the tribunes. He may be boorish and a poor general, but he is not corrupt. The tribunes of the people came down harshly on Lucullus because he was a
novus homo,
one of their own, a man of plebeian origins who had forsaken his roots and aspired to become a patrician. I do not fault him for that either. But I do fault him for inducing men to volunteer by offering them booty, and for bringing them here without basic training. Because there has been no other war since Pydna, most of the existing veterans were already with the army in Spain and this new legion is composed almost entirely of men unversed in war, without discipline or skills or the cynicism of the veteran who takes promises of booty with a pinch of salt.' Scipio put his hand on Fabius' shoulder. ‘Our time for bigger things will come, Fabius. Until then I must show my loyalty to my general. And for now, we have an
oppidum
to take.'