command now had not been with him in Iberia, and many of them grumbled at this first move. They were heading in the wrong direction! Why go west when Carthage was to the east and stood undefended? But, as had proved prudent in the past, Publius kept his own counsel.
Some distance outside the city, a delegation from Syphax approached under a banner of parley. Publius agreed to hear them. The message they brought was that the king himself wished to meet with Publius. He believed they had spoken once as reasonable men and could do so again now. Publius sent back saying that the situation was much altered from their last meeting. He came not to talk now but with an army actively at war with Carthage. He said that he knew of Syphax' marriage into the Barca family, and he knew that Hanno Barca was at that very moment raising troops among the Libyans, while several Barca women resided in Cirta. He had every reason to believe that the state of war now stretched to include Syphax' people. Unless the Libyan king renounced his allegiance with Carthage immediately and completely, he faced an imminent clash of arms.
To this Syphax responded with his sincerest hope that it need not come to that. True, he was married into the house of Barca and therefore to the fate of Carthage. Hannibal's wife and elder sister had accompanied his new bride and were in his care at present, but he was still a ruler of his people and capable of making his own decisions. Indeed, this situation placed him in a special position that might benefit them all. Before he need consider breaking with his beloved wife, he again proposed that he mediate between Rome and Carthage. This conflict had gone on too long, too many had died, enough had been destroyed, and both sides had been shown to be great powers evenly met. Hanno, as a commander on African soil, had authority to make arrangements by which his brother in Italy would have to abide. Let them here work out a peace wherein Hannibal withdrew from Italy and Scipio sailed home. Do not answer rashly, but consider that the bloodshed could end with words instead of the sword. Did this not promise benefits to Rome so great that they deserved considering?
When the two of them stepped away from the delegation to ponder this, Laelius asked Publius, “Do you believe he is sincere?”
“He is a jackal,” Publius answered.
Laelius considered this for a moment. “But a sincere jackal?”
In answer, Publius told Syphax that he owed it to his people and to the brave men of his army to explore the possibility of ending this conflagration peaceably. He would consent to a meeting with the king, but only after they had corresponded on enough details to verify that such a conference would yield results. Syphax agreed.
While this got under way, Publius had his army camp on the plains, about a half-day's ride from the city. An equal distance away lay the enemy's camp, a site that had long been used by the Libyans to house troops in training and keep armies of raucous men outside the city itself. Through informers whom Laelius had recruited on his early reconnaissance missions along the coast, Publius knew a great deal about the army he was to face. Syphax had a core of well-trained soldiers, some who fought as spearmen in the manner of the Greek phalanx, others whose primary weapon was the sword. These fought standing side by side, with the edges of their feet touching, slicing like so many butchers at whatever came near them. They carried wooden, hide-covered shields, but their work was more suited to attack than defense.
These men posed as serious a threat as any trained by Hannibal, but much of Syphax' army comprised troops newly called to service from throughout his empire. He had no system for training and formation to match that of the Roman legion, and therefore aimed to prevail through sheer quantity of fighting men alone. Soldiers drifted in like hyenas drawn to a kill. They came singly and in tribal bands, lone creatures who looked after themselves foremost. They were clad in leopard and cheetah and lion skins, burly-armed and long-legged, some with enormous locks of hair like a hundred snakes, others with shaved heads tattooed in imitation of their spirit animals. They carried a wild variety of weapons, many ghastly in appearance: spears of differing sizes and functions, pikes with many-pronged heads, flails that ripped divots of skin loose with each strike, harpoons attached to cords so that a pierced man could be yanked off his feet. One group had chosen the ax as their favored weapon and each of these wore the shriveled remainder of their enemies' severed limbs to attest to their weapons' utility. A band from a seashore people to the west appeared with small round shields encrusted with coral, carrying tridents so heavy that a man once penetrated by their points was thereafter anchored to the spot and could be dispatched with a small shell knife.
The ranks of the African army swelled from one day to the next. Clearly, this was just what Syphax hoped for, and Laelius again and again asked Publius when they were going to act. He feared the enemy would number thirty thousand soon. Forty or fifty thousand before long. Who knew how many sand-colored men would eventually step out of the landscape? Their own troops were only twelve thousand strong. How long could they wait? Each day their number grew, and each day Hanno had more time to shape them into a more cohesive—
“How many died at Cannae?” Publius interrupted.
“You know the number,” Laelius replied.
“Yes, I do,” Publius said, as if this were answer enough to the whole line of questioning.
A week into the slow negotiations, Publius commented that the Libyans had not expanded the boundaries of their camp. No doubt in a desire to conceal their numbers, they contained their growing bulk behind the original perimeter. This structure was formidable, built as it was of stout, gnarled hardwood, woven into a tight wall bristling with thorns as long as a man's finger. It was not a new kind of defense, but had been improved over the years. It was formidable, Publius pointed out, but it was also wooden. For that matter, the huts in the Libyan camp were built mostly of reed and thatch. The Carthaginian contingent, following its custom, built in earth and dried wood. What the camp now presented was a wealth of fuel, contained in a smallish area, crammed with men and animals, supplies and clothing and foodstuffs. The only things not vulnerable to fire were metal objects, and rings or cups, spears or axes, which had never harmed anyone of their own volition.
His companion, as ever, searched in this observation for the course Publius was formulating and then began to see it, unclearly, in outline.
Still the negotiations went on. Syphax had first to convince Publius that Hanno was committed to the possibility of peace. Then Publius needed proof that Hanno had the authority to conclude an agreement. After that, they began a back-and-forth on basic conditions that had to be agreed upon before they went any further. Some among Publius' own staff grumbled that they were playing into Syphax' hands. Though this was never said within his hearing, Publius learned that some of his men believed he had been stricken with fear and wanted to conclude a peace without further risk so that his previous successes would not be overshadowed by a failure. This opinion was hard to refute, for his plan needed to mature. He let them talk.
To Laelius, he noted the tendency of the wind to rise after sunset and gust for some hours as the earth adjusted to the change of day into night.
Nine days into the negotiations, Masinissa arrived at the head of nearly two thousand mounted Massylii. Publius could not help but comment to Laelius on the strangeness of watching the African horsemen ride calmly into his camp. The last time he had beheld such a sight he was looking on his sworn enemy; this time, however, he did his best to put their previous relationship behind them, to dismiss it as a historical detail, not something to trouble them with suspicions now. At least, so he declared publicly, in his opening remarks. Masinissa's people introduced him using the title of king. Publius did not hesitate to take up the term. Why not? Either it would become true in practice, or the young man would die in the effort. That much was clear.
Masinissa, at their first meeting, reiterated the other officers' nervous views on the swelling army of Libyans. Although he spoke no Latin, he could make himself understood in Greek, which pleased the consul almost as much. Publius calmed him, saying that when the time came his men would be in a position to slaughter as many of them as they could hold pebbles in their hand. Publius noted that the young man looked often in the direction of Cirta. He knew why, but for the time being he said nothing.
By the eleventh day, it seemed they had corresponded through messengers for as long as they could. In the final few days Syphax and Hanno increasingly set out demands that proved them scoundrels. In return for ending hostilities and pulling Hannibal back from Italy, they not only wanted Publius' withdrawal from Africa, they also required that Iberia be largely returned to Carthaginian hands and that ports captured by Hannibal in Italy be traded for the Roman-controlled ports on Sicily. They proposed that neither side actually admit defeat at the other's hand; thus Carthage would not be required to pay a war indemnity to make amends for the damage done to the Roman people. And they wanted Masinissa handed over into Syphax' custody.
None of these terms were acceptable. Publius believed that Hanno well understood this, but perhaps his hand was forced by representatives of his council. Or, perhaps, with the fifty-some-thousand men in their camp, they believed they held the advantage. In any event, the consul put aside whatever compunction he might have had
