Hannibal's children

Chapter 14

The pyramids turned out to be as mind-numbingly huge as the early travelers and historians had reported. The Roman party found themselves duly impressed, but at least these immense heaps of stone were not alarming. The walls of Carthage had been alarming. The tour had taken them far upriver to see the equally stupendous temple complexes near the old capital, Thebes. On the journey upriver they had passed the pyramids by moonlight and had remained aboard. The majestic river itself had been a revelation. They had fancied that the Rhenus and Danuvius were the broadest rivers in the world, but the Nile could have swallowed the flow of both northern rivers without rising appreciably in its banks. Ministers of the king had explained to them about the river's annual flood, depositing the rich silt that made Egypt so wealthy in crops, and the art of surveying that made it possible to reestablish the boundaries of land after each flood. This was the sort of activity the Romans could appreciate. Surveying was something they understood.

All along the river, they saw water-raising machinery such as Marcus had seen in the Museum. With hydraulic screws and buckets moving on endless chains and in rotating wheels, water was raised from the river and dumped into channels that would bear it to the fields. All of Egypt was irrigated, because rain was a great rarity.

Yet, despite the sophisticated machinery, most farmers made do with the most primitive of machines: a long, cranelike shaft with a bucket or skin bag for water on one end, a huge ball of mud on the other as a counterweight. The farmers hauled the bucket down to the river and filled it, then let the counterweight raise the now-full bucket to be pulled in and emptied into an irrigation channel, then the process began again. The peasants performed this labor for hour upon hour, watering their fields one bucketful at a time.

"Machinery is fine," Flaccus remarked, "but it is expensive. Manpower is cheap, and Egypt seems to have no end of manpower."

Indeed, they had never seen a land as densely populated as Egypt. The whole nation was really just a narrow strip of green land bordering the river. No more than a mile from the river's banks, the cultivated land ended and the desert began with startling abruptness. Within that narrow strip of green land lived millions of Egyptians, all but a handful of them members of the peasant class whose toil produced the nation's astounding wealth.

"The river is their life," Brutus said one day, "but that desert is their security. They've never had to face anything worse than raids by desert tribes. Egypt doesn't share borders with any nation possessing a real army. In the northeast, they have the Sinai as a buffer zone between Egypt and the Seleucids. In the northwest, Libya amounts to nothing and separates them from Carthage."

Scipio nodded. "It's how they can maintain so dense a population. The land is never ravaged by war and they don't need to use the young men as soldiers. They can spend their whole lives doing nothing but farm."

"What a strange place," Caesar said. "It doesn't seem natural." He waved an arm toward the shoreline, where life was pursued as it had been without change for thousands of years. "It seems too …" He tapered off.

"I believe the word you are looking for is 'serene,' " Flaccus said. "Serenity is alien to us."

"That's it," Caesar agreed. "This whole country is like an old man sitting under his arbor, watching his grapes grow."

"So what is to keep Hamilcar from conquering this place?" Brutus wanted to know. "We know that he has an immense army and is planning to make it even stronger. With our legions thanks to you, Marcus." He waited for Scipio to rise to the jibe, but the leader simply listened attentively. "The Libyans won't stop him. He's probably already made arrangements with them. They may have formed an alliance. The Libyans will want a part of the spoils if they're to loot Egypt."

"He can cut off Alexandria with his navy," Caesar concurred, "and bring up his army to take the city."

"In the first place," Marcus told them, "he can't cut off Alexandria by sea. As we've already seen, the city has direct access to the Nile. The Delta has hundreds of river channels and even Hamilcar's navy can't block all those mouths. More importantly, it gives Alexandria access to the interior, which can keep the city supplied forever."

"Nonetheless," Brutus said, "the fact remains that Hamilcar doesn't have to take all of Egypt, as he might have in the days of the pharaohs. If he takes Alexandria, the rest of the country falls into his hands."

"That would require an immense siege," Marcus pointed out.

"Well, what do you think he's preparing for?" Brutus cried, exasperated. "He isn't amassing that army to take a few border forts and skirmish with some desert tribesmen! If a siege is what is required, that is what he'll do. Carthage took Syracuse by siege, so they know how it's done. We've all gone over the defenses. Alexandria isn't protected the way Carthage is."

"The walls of Carthage are a great redundancy," Flaccus said. "They are designed to overawe more than to protect. Building stables and barracks into the walls is very clever, but what military purpose does it serve? The defenses of Alexandria are more than adequate. The place was designed by Alexander and his generals, and they were men who knew more than a little about siegecraft."

"Flaccus is right," Marcus said. "Besides the supplies and the walls, the Archimedean School has designed wonderful fighting machines."

"You and those machines!" Caesar spat. "They are toys!"

"Toys?" Scipio said. "You saw them demonstrated at sea. Did they seem like toys then?"

"That was different," Caesar maintained. "A ship is a sort of machine. When machine fights machine, they have their uses. But we turned that pirate vessel into a slaughterhouse with a handful of legionaries."

"That's right!" Brutus said. "The ultimate weapon is the Roman legionary. A few legions would take Alexandria in a day."

"But I thought you objected to using our legions for the purpose, Brutus," Scipio said.

"Don't try to trick me! I am saying that good foot soldiers won't be stopped by big, noisy contraptions good for nothing but scaring the horses. Hamilcar's army may not be legion quality, but they can't all be bad. They are probably up to this task."

"Perhaps, Marcus," Flaccus said placatingly, "it might be time for you to tell us just what you do intend. If mystifying us all is your intention, you've succeeded. I may say without bragging that I understand the Senate better than any man here. The Senate loves success, even when it is accomplished by less than traditional means. But the Senate at its most whimsical will never countenance using our legions on both sides of a foreign war. Not at the same time, anyway. Is that your intention? For us to back one side, then switch to the other?"

"You are close," Scipio said. "First, let me say this: In large part, I agree that Alexandria will not hold against a determined Carthaginian siege. That is not because of the inadequacy of the defenses, but rather because of the quality of the leadership. The king is a boy, surrounded by corrupt buffoons. The nation is generally well run because of Selene. The royal council is content to let her run the place most of the time because it relieves them of the labor. But they and the army will not follow her in war because she is a woman. Instead, they'll dress the boy in military clothes and try to defend Alexandria themselves. They fancy the blood of their warrior ancestors is sufficient to give them proficiency in the military arts."

The others chuckled. "The girl would make a better soldier than any of them, I'll grant you," Brutus said. "But what are you trying to tell us in your oblique way?"

"We can't afford to let Alexandria fall," Scipio told them.

"Why?" Caesar wanted to know. "What is Alexandria to us? Or Antioch or Babylon, for that matter?"

"Egypt is Carthage's enemy and rival, as Rome was once. Let Hamilcar have an easy victory and he will fancy himself invincible, in the usual manner of triumphant kings. He will also have the wealth of Egypt to add to that of Carthage. I don't intend to help Egypt defeat Carthage. I want Hamilcar to get bogged down into a long, costly war here."

Flaccus was first to see the light. "If the fighting is too much for his troops, he'll want more of our legions."

"Exactly," Scipio said.

Young Caesar was not far behind. "Our legions will use Italy as a staging area! Hamilcar will be too preoccupied here to notice that we've reoccupied one of his less important provinces!"

"We'll have Italy back without a voice of protest being raised in Carthage," said Flaccus.

"It hardly seems honorable," Brutus protested. "And our legions will suffer, being sent here to take part in a futile war."

"When is war ever easy on the legions?" Scipio said. "Their purpose is to make Rome strong, safe and great. The enemy involved needn't be the army directly before them. If there is any dishonor involved, let it be upon me. Anyway, Roman commanders are nothing if not resourceful. They'll figure out ways to let Hamilcar's mercenaries absorb the bulk of the casualties."

"You haven't explained one thing," Caesar said. "How do you propose to keep Hamilcar from taking the city?"

"Oh, that's simple. I will assist the king here in conducting the defense."

They gawked at him, then Flaccus spoke.

"And I thought Titus Norbanus was a cold-blooded bastard."

CARTHAGE

The war council was conducted formally. Hamilcar wore military uniform, as did all the council who were not of advanced years. On some, the effect was fairly ludicrous. The exception was the Roman delegation. It was now swelled by a number of prominent men, most of them senators, who had been dispatched from Noricum to handle the details of the new "Alliance."

Now that their mission was overtly military, they all wore military garb, in which they looked much more comfortable than they had in their togas. There was little agreement among their equipment, for uniformity was not imposed upon the officer class. Some favored the old-fashioned cuirass of hammered bronze, sculpted to follow the muscles of the torso, others favored the more practical shirt of Gallic mail, sometimes with added defenses of iron plate. The helmets they cradled beneath their arms were of various Greek, Italic or Gallic designs or combinations of two or all three, some plain, others crested or plumed. Whatever their taste in armament, all of them looked eminently competent.

This impression was not lost upon Hamilcar. He felt that he was getting a better bargain than he had expected if the quality of Roman soldiery was uniformly high. They might just bear watching, though. He nodded to Norbanus, and the Roman commander stepped forward with easy elegance.

Norbanus was one who favored the Attic bronze cuirass, and his was decorated with embossed figures of gods and goddesses silver-gilt to contrast with the warmly gleaming bronze. His parade helmet was copied from the famous lionmask helmet of Alexander the Great. He looked no less deadly for all the finery, though.

"Your Majesty," he began, "the noble Senate has agreed to send you four of our legions to aid in your conquest of Egypt. They sail from Tarentum within the month, if the weather cooperates."

"I shall sacrifice for happy winds," Hamilcar said. "But, four legions? How many men is that?"

"A legion comprises about six thousand men, all citizens," Norbanus explained. "But when we say 'legion,' we mean a full legion plus the same number of attached auxilia. These are mostly men from recently conquered territories who earn their citizenship by service in the auxilia. There are many Gauls and Germans among them, but they are all loyal soldiers of Rome. Thus, four legions mean about forty-eight thousand fighting men, plus their attached noncombatants: medical staff, surveyors, smiths, carpenters, tentmakers and so forth. These latter are mostly state-owned slaves."

"I see," Hamilcar said, a bit skeptical that the Romans could get so many men under arms at such comparatively short notice, much less be ready to embark them. "And how do the legionaries and the auxilia differ, other than the matter of citizenship?"

"Lentulus Niger will explain," Norbanus said. "He is acting as quartermaster for this expeditionary force." He stepped back and another man stepped forward. Niger was a stocky man with unkempt black hair and wearing a short beard, a rarity among the close-barbered Romans, and a sign that he was in mourning. He wore a plain tunic of Gallic iron mail and carried a severely plain iron helmet; pot-shaped with broad cheek guards and a trailing plume of black horsehair.

"Citizens in the legions are all heavy infantry, armed with heavy and light javelins, short sword and dagger. All wear helmet, cuirass of Gallic mail, and bear the scutum, the long shield. None wear leg armor save centurions, who are permitted greaves as a sign of their rank.

"Auxilia comprise the other arms, although some of them are heavy infantry as well. They are the cavalry, the light infantry, skirmishers and the missile troops: archers, slingers, javelin men and so forth. All of the light-armed troops are armed with sword and light shield for close combat. Auxilia are organized only as cohorts, never as legions. The cohort consists of five hundred men organized into five centuries of one hundred, each commanded by a centurion.

"Since the Cornelian reorganization of some sixty years ago, each legion is accompanied by twelve cohorts of auxilia, although this can be varied at need. The usual mix is four cohorts of heavy infantry, two of archers, two of skirmishers including the javelin men, three of cavalry and one of slingers."

"You Romans do not make great use of cavalry?" one of the Carthaginian generals queried.

"They are not terribly useful in the terrain of Gaul or Germania. Here in Africa, we may wish to increase our cavalry forces and reduce some of the others. Experience will determine that."

"This is all most impressively organized," Hamilcar said. "Are your supply services as efficient? I do not want your legions extorting the necessities from my cities on the march. I also have an agreement with Libya not to loot as we pass through. Of course, once we are in Egyptian territory, your men may lift as much as they can carry."

"Attached to each commander's staff are commissariat officers," Niger told him. "There is also a paymaster, the quaestor, who is a serving magistrate, answerable directly to the Senate. We prefer not to depend upon forage and local supply. Your cities need not worry."

"How-how businesslike," Hamilcar said, raising a chuckle from his council. He was hard put to know what to make of these Romans. They seemed to approach warfare as they would an engineering project. This caused another question to occur to him. "As to siege works, earthworks and so forth, labor may be levied upon certain towns, but not others, slave gangs may be rounded up in Egyptian territory, but this must be cleared through my own commanders, who may have their own uses for them. Is this understood?"

"Every Roman soldier, of whatever category, carries pickaxe and spade," Niger said. "We neither need nor want great mobs of slaves interfering with our army. We will accomplish all the necessary engineering works ourselves."

The Carthaginians were dumbfounded. Soldiers who did the work of slaves! Men who laid down the sword and picked up the spade! What sort of warriors were these?

Norbanus and the other Romans knew exactly what these men were thinking and they smiled inside. These barbarians would learn soon enough what they were dealing with. Romans had won as many wars with the pickaxe as with the sword.

Zarabel was, as usual, watching the proceedings from her hiding place. It galled her to have to do this, but to demand attendance at a council of war would strain her brother's always-chancy tolerance. Of course, she could get a full report afterward from Norbanus or other sources, but that would inevitably lack the nuance of a firsthand look at the proceedings. This was most informative.

The new Romans were up to her expectations. Scipio and his party had not been some sort of aberration. She had already entertained them and spoken to them. They were as businesslike, direct and unsophisticated as the others. Yet, unlike her brother and his ministers, she did not mistake this for simplicity, far less for stupidity. What these men lacked in polish they more than made up for in native intelligence and clarity of purpose. They were here on a mission and she was not at all satisfied that it was that of a simple military alliance. She sensed an agenda here.

She already knew of the Romans' near-religious zeal to take back their Seven Hills and the rest of Italy. She also knew that not all the Romans were fanatical in this aim. She knew further that certain of them, including Marcus Scipio and Norbanus, were playing games of their own. Perilous as this was, she welcomed it. These Romans represented her chance to topple her brother and to put herself and the cult of Tanit in their rightful position.

Besides, since the Romans showed up, life had been exciting and stimulating. She was no longer bored.

ROMA NORICUM

"What is the problem?" Decimus Cornelius Scipio, the new Consul, presided this day over yet another of the unending meetings that devoured all his time now that the epochal retaking of Italy was under way. Next to him, in the seat of Junior Consul, sat his colleague Titus Norbanus the Elder. This meeting concerned purely military matters, so it was staffed by the Senate. In token of the state's status of total war, they had exchanged the white toga of peace for the red sagum of war.

"We've run out of totem beasts," the soldier said. He was a legionary staff officer, but he was also a priest of Bellona, the goddess who oversaw all military matters. "For many generations," he pointed out, "we used only the sacred animals as standards for the legions. The eagle has pride of place and has always been the standard of the First Legion. The wolf, Minotaur, horse and boar were used for legions Two through Five. In the Cornelian reorganization, when so many more legions were called for, we added the serpent, the dragon, the bear, the hippogriff, the chimera, the gorgon, the lion, the elephant and the raven. Now we are raising ten more legions. We need ten more standards and we must either add ridiculous creatures or duplicate some of them, either of which would be pernicious."

The consuls and the rest pondered. This was not a trivial problem. Soldiers held their standards sacred, as deities embodying the living spirit of the legion. The standard was carried by the bravest of the brave and to lose it was unspeakable shame. This had not occurred in many generations.

"We can't have lizards and mice as standards," Norbanus said, "and we already use the most formidable creatures of legend except perhaps for Pegasus and Cerberus. What's to be done?"

Publius Gabinius stood and was recognized as Princeps Senatus. "As a matter of fact, I have been giving this problem consideration for some time and I think I've reached an acceptable solution."

"I am sure we'd all be glad to hear it," said Consul Scipio.

"As was just said, the eagle has always had pride of place, as the sacred bird of Jupiter. Likewise, many of the most potent omens sent to tell us of the gods' will in the matter of the reconquest came through the agency of eagles. I propose that, as part of the military reorganization now taking place, we make the eagle the standard for all the legions of Rome. The other totem creatures may be retained as standards for the lesser formations within the legions, and for the cohorts of auxilia."

"This is radical!" protested an old senator.

"No less radical than this project upon which we have embarked," Gabinius answered.

The debate that ensued lasted through much of the day, but in the end it was agreed upon. Henceforth, all the legions would follow the eagle.

Senator Gaius Licinius Rufus, overseer of armaments, toured the workshops of Gaul, where much of the ironwork for the legions was carried out. In the armor factories of the province he had been well pleased with the construction of the new mail shirts. For the sake of simplicity they had been standardized in three patterns: knee-length with shoulder doublings in the Greek or Gallic styles for the heavy infantry; mid-thigh length without shoulder doublings for light infantry; waist length with Gallic-style shoulder doublings for cavalry. The Gallic craftsmen were superb and meticulous. No Roman soldier would die because his armor was of shoddy quality.

Helmets were another matter. "This is dreadful!" Rufus said, turning the new helmet over in his hands. It was of a new pattern: Made entirely of iron, it was little more than a crude pot, descending a little below the ears in back, with a broad, flat neck guard, with cutouts for the ears and wide cheek guards cut back to clear the eyes and mouth. It had the crudest of finishes and entirely lacked the graceful rolled and roped edges of the traditional bronze helmets. It had no provision for crest or plumes and its only concession to decoration was a pair of crudely embossed eyebrows on the forehead.

"It's not pretty, I'll grant you that," said the master armorer. "But it's better protection than the old bronze pots. Ask any soldier whether he'd rather have a helmet that looks good on parade or one that'll keep a sword out of his skull and neck in battle."

"The lowest auxilia have better helmets than this!" Rufus protested. "The legions will rebel!"

"No they won't," said the armorer. "Fact is, if you want to raise ten entire new legions plus support troops and do it fast, you have to sacrifice some quality. It was decided to go for practicality instead of beauty. This helmet is stronger and better designed than the old ones and it doesn't require as much skilled labor. Look, later on, when things have settled down and the soldiers have a little money in their purses, they can tart these up as much as they like: add plumes and crests, solder enameled bosses on them, put bronze piping around the edges, cover them with gold leaf, whatever. In the meantime, they can fight in them."

"But Roman soldiers never went into battle looking ugly!" Rufus protested.

A month later he was in the valley of the Rhenus, looking over the new swords. Cut off from the wonderful iron deposits of Spain, the Romans had established their sword works here, where the tough local iron was excellent for swords and the heavy forests provided abundant charcoal for forging.

He walked down a long table, picking up and hefting some of the new weapons. As with the helmets, these swords had been simplified for mass production. The pommels were simple balls of hardwood, the grips of bone variously stepped, grooved or checkered for a firm grip. The blades were the sort the Romans favored: no more than twenty inches long, pointed and double-edged, but here some changes had been made. These looked like shortened versions of the cavalry longsword. Instead of the graceful curved edges that produced the traditional wasp waist, their edges were perfectly straight and parallel. Instead of the usual long, tapering point, these were short and acutely angled.

He had to admit that they balanced just as well in the hand as the old style. In fact, they felt somewhat better. A little experimenting on animal carcasses in a butcher's stall satisfied him that the odd-looking point penetrated just as efficiently as the old style and, as the swordmaker pointed out, it was stronger and less likely to bend against shield or armor. Rufus sighed. It was hard to turn loose of traditional things, but concessions would have to be made if they were to take back the Seven Hills. He pronounced himself and the Senate satisfied.

The Consuls inspected the new legions at a grand review on the Field of Mars. The older, established legions were already encamped at the foot of the mountains except for the four destined for Carthage and the war with Egypt. Those had already crossed into Italy.

"We are being watched," Consul Norbanus said.

"Naturally," said Consul Scipio. "Romans seldom get a spectacle like this."

"I mean we are being watched by those Greek merchants."

Quintus Scipio turned around. They stood atop the great reviewing platform from which the consuls and other magistrates traditionally inspected the massed legions. He saw the little knot of Greeks watching from the fringes of the crowd, their expressions intent and calculating.

"Yes. Well, they aren't very effective spies. Everyone knows them for inveterate liars. Do you think Hamilcar or anybody else would believe them were they to report what they see here?"

"Safer to kill them," said his father, Scipio Cyclops. As one who had held all the highest offices, he rated a place on the stand.

"Safer, perhaps, but would it be wise?" the younger Scipio remarked.

"What do you mean?" Norbanus wanted to know.

"If the merchants fail to return home, suspicions may be roused. They do not act entirely as individuals. They belong to syndicates. Inquiries will be made."

"There is that to consider," his father admitted.

"They're Greeks and they're merchants," Norbanus said. "Let's just bribe them."

"With what?" Quintus Scipio asked. "We've bankrupted the treasury preparing for this war."

Norbanus chuckled. "How innocent you are. A one-time cash payment is not how you bribe these people. They would just go to Hamilcar and demand a bigger bribe to tell what they know. He would be more likely to believe them if he has to pay for the information. No, the way to bribe them is with something that will continue paying them in the future. We are going to reestablish Rome in Italy. That will mean a whole new market for them. Promise them long-term contracts, monopolies and so forth. It's what they value."

"Excellent idea," Quintus Scipio said. "You can take care of the matter since it's your idea." He knew that part of each contract would stick to the ringers of his colleague, but that was only to be expected.

Three new legions stood on the Field of Mars, fully equipped. The rest would be ready in the next few months. These were mainly new recruits, with a leavening of veterans drawn from the established legions. All of the centurions and decurions were veterans, naturally. The raising of ten new legions had brought about an unprecedented rash of promotions. Men who mere months previously could not have expected to wear decurion's plumes for another ten years now gloried in the crest, vinestock and greaves of a centurion.

The military tribunes and senior staff were drawn from the senatorial class, and some of these glittered with bronze finery, colorful plumes and weapons decorated with precious metals. Others were as unadorned as the commonest legionary. There had been special elections to appoint the junior officers, special meetings of the Senate to approve the commanders and legati. As always where the Senate was concerned, there was maneuvering and shifting of alliances and voting blocs. The men lucky enough to hold high rank during the reconquest could look forward to glittering political careers. They would be the favorites at future elections; their names would appear on monuments. Prominent senators indebted themselves for years to come in order to secure these commissions for their sons.

The priests of Bellona went forward dressed in their ritual regalia to pronounce the blessing of the goddess upon the legions. The soldier's oath had been taken at the formation of the new legions, but the necessary ceremonies remained to be accomplished.

Because of the unprecedented military situation there had been an extraordinary election of censors, an election that ordinarily would not have taken place for another three years. The legions had to be purified, and only censors could perform this ceremony, the lustrum.

The two distinguished senators, both of whom had held all the highest offices, came forward and pronounced the prayers in a language so ancient as to be unintelligible. Then commenced the suovetaurilia: the great sacrifice to Mars. The three victims were brought forward: a spotless white bull, an enormous ram and an equally huge boar. All had been scrubbed and their horns and tusks gilded. Drugged to keep them quiet, bound and draped with garlands of flowers, they were raised on ornate litters and carried by temple slaves in solemn procession amid clouds of incense smoke from censers swung on long chains by white-clad boys.

Three times the beasts were carried around the assembled legions. The procession halted at the great altar of Mars and the creatures were unbound and led before the altar where the Flamen Martialis waited, wearing his white coif surmounted by the wooden disk and spike. He drew his curved sacrificial knife and cut the throat of each animal. Slaves caught the gushing blood in golden bowls and poured it over the altar. Then the priests of Mars roared out the ritual laugh three times and all was silent while the augurs scanned the skies for omens. In time a flock of raven was observed alighting in a tree on the south end of the field and the Flamen Martialis pronounced the god satisfied.

The Senior Consul, his red sagum draped in the manner of a commander delivering the adlocutio, now spoke.

"Soldiers of Rome! You have taken your oath and you have been purified. Now you go forth to accomplish the greatest task ever entrusted to the legions. Yes, what you are about to do will be remembered as greater than the war with Hannibal, for this time we shall prevail! Greater than the wars against the Gauls and the Germans that brought us our empire of Noricum, for this time we do not fight a campaign here and there against this tribe or that league, and we do not fight primitive warriors.

"Soldiers! You are about to begin the reconquest of our sacred homeland! You will meet, fight and destroy utterly the greatest empire in the world! You will humble Hannibal's children and make them pass beneath the Roman yoke! This generation, with you leading the way, will accomplish the sacred act of vengeance vouchsafed to us by our ancestors.

"Generations to come will calculate the year from this date, when Rome raised the most powerful army in history to take back the sacred Seven Hills!" He raised his arm in salute and the assembled soldiers roared out their battle cry, pounding the butts of their pila against their shields as the priests of Mars known as the Salii, the "holy leapers," performed their vaulting dance around the altar of the god. They wore ancient helmets and they carried the twelve sacred shields called ancilia, one of which had in ages past fallen from the heavens. As they danced, they performed the act forbidden at any time save one such as this: They beat the shields with their staves to call upon Mars for aid in the coming war.

At last there was silence. The priests of Saturn entered the field, bearing the standards of the legions: the images of the sacred beasts for the lesser formations and the new golden eagles for the legions themselves. These were given to picked men who wore pelts of bear or wolf or lion draped over their helmets and shoulders. The senior of these bore a new title: aquilifer, "eagle-bearer." His would be the greatest responsibility of all the six thousand soldiers of the legion: It was his duty to walk forth alone if the legion faltered. He was to die before allowing the sacred emblem to fall into enemy hands.

When all else was done, the priests called fetiales came forth and walked to the little enclosure of land dedicated to Bellona and designated as enemy territory. One of the priests carried the ancient bronze spear of Romulus. At the boundary the senior priest pointed to the enclosure with his wand. "Behold Carthage!" he shouted. A younger priest stepped forward and solemnly cast the ancient spear into the enemy soil where it stood, quivering.

The Senate of Rome chanted as one man: "Go! Take back the Seven Hills!"

The assembled legions roared their assent.

The reconquest of Italy had begun.