Archimedes blinked: he'd been trying to picture whether the catapult would fit on the floor beneath the Welcomer. 'I suppose so,' he said. 'But look, I, um, think it will need a bigger platform. Not for the machine itself, but for the men operating it. The yard there is low, and even though the platform's on ground level you still have to climb a few steps to reach it. The, um, ammunition will be heavy, and they'll have to have a hoist to raise it. They'll need a space to stand while they lift it, and then…' He hesitated, then glanced around, found a stick, and squatted down to sketch on the dirt floor the things the catapult operators would need.
Kallippos watched intently, then squatted down next to him and began saying things like 'The main roof support's about here,' and 'You can't put the crane on the roof- too exposed under fire.' After a little while, the workmen went back to work around the two engineers; the engineers issued a few furious orders about not stepping on the sketches, then gave up, retreated to a quieter part of the workshop, and began chalking their plans upon the wall. Hoists gave way to arcs of fire and outworks. When the chief engineer finally departed, he shook Archimedes' hand warmly and declared, 'I'll see to it.' And when Archimedes accompanied the completed two- talenter to the Hexapylon, he found most of his suggested modifications in place.
That was the day the Romans arrived. The wagon with the catapult drew up at the fort to find the garrison buzzing with excited apprehension: a messenger had just galloped up to announce that a large Roman army was only a few hours' march away.
There had been some news of the enemy since Hieron's return to the city. Shortly after the Syracusans had left Messana, the Romans had sallied out from the city to attack the remaining, Carthaginian, besiegers. The Carthaginians, like the Syracusans, had managed to beat off the attack- and, like the Syracusans, had decided to withdraw afterward, unwilling to continue the siege without support from their allies. For a little while the Romans had remained in Messana, apparently debating whether to go after the Carthaginians or the Syracusans. When they at last made up their minds, they marched due south toward Syracuse.
The Romans had two specially strengthened legions- ten thousand men- plus the army of their allies the Mamertini, which alone nearly equaled the number of the Syracusan army. Outnumbered and facing enemies famed for their ferocity and discipline, the Syracusans had no intention of venturing into the field. Refugees from the outlying farms and villages came flooding into the city, laden with as many of their possessions as they could carry and lamenting the harvest they had been forced to abandon. As Hieron had said, the hope of Syracuse lay in her walls- and her catapults.
The captain of the Hexapylon was delighted to see Archimedes. 'That's the two-talenter?' he asked, as soon as the wagon had rolled to a halt. 'Good, good! See if you can get it up in time to wish the Romans good health when they arrive, hah!' And he gestured for his men to help move the catapult to its selected platform.
Between the throng of eager helpers and Kallippos' hoists, the bits of the catapult were soon in place, and Archimedes afterward realized with astonishment that he had not once had to pull on a rope himself. He was assembling the pieces when Hieron arrived with a troop of guardsmen. He came up to the catapult platform and watched silently while Archimedes threaded the pulleys. Archimedes concentrated furiously to avoid those bright interested eyes.
'Will it work as well as the others?' the king asked when the stock had been fixed upon its stand.
'Unnh?' said Archimedes, fiddling with the screw elevator. 'Oh. Yes. Probably won't have the range of the Welcomer, though.' He walked back along the stock to the trigger and sighted along the slide- then stood upright with a jerk. There was a vast shadow on the road northa shadow that glittered as the bright noon sun caught upon the points of the thousands of spears. He looked at the king in shock.
Hieron met his eyes and nodded. 'I imagine they'll want to set up camp before they test our teeth,' he said. 'You don't need to rush the tuning.'
In fact, the Romans were impatient. The main body of the army halted in the fields to the north of the Epipolae plateau and began entrenching, but a smaller group could be seen assembling on the road. It was easy to make out two masses of men falling into square formations, with an irregular line of other men before them.
Hieron, who was watching out the artillery port, gave a snort of dismay. 'Two battalions?' he asked no one in particular. 'Two- what do they call them? — maniples? Only about four hundred men. What do they think they're doing?'
As if in answer, the two squares began to march toward Syracuse, one to the left and one to the right of the road. 'Anyone with better eyes than me see a herald, or any tokens of a truce?' asked the king, raising his voice.
Nobody saw any evidence that the Romans were coming to talk.
Hieron sighed and stared at the two maniples a moment longer with a look of loathing. Then he said, 'Very well,' and snapped his fingers. 'Get the men drawn up,' he ordered his staff. 'There are a few things I want to tell them.'
The Syracusan soldiers assembled in neat ranks in the fort yard, facing the open-backed catapult platform where the king stood. The Hexapylon had a regular garrison of a single infantry file- thirty-six men- plus servants and errand boys and hangers-on, and the king had brought four more files with him. But the crowd that assembled now numbered well over three hundred, and Archimedes realized that men from other units along the wall must have been arriving while he was busy with the catapult. Hieron had concentrated some strength here, where the first attack was expected- but not too much. All up and down the fifteen-mile circuit of the walls, Syracusans must be standing to the alert, checking the tension on their catapults and arranging supplies of ammunition. Who knew which way the Romans would turn?
Hieron strode to the edge of the platform and looked out at the rows of helmets before him, all with their cheek flaps turned up so that they could listen. Archimedes glanced over the ranks, then, feeling out of place, went back to Good Health and resumed work on the strings. Despite the king's advice, he had been rushing to get the catapult ready to fire, and now it only needed tuning. He climbed up onto the stock with the winding gear.
'Men,' shouted the king, in a strong clear voice, 'the Romans have decided to send some fellows up to see whether or not we have teeth. We're going to let them come as close they want to, and then we're going to bite so hard that their friends watching will shit for fear.'
The soldiers gave a roar of understanding and struck the butts of their spears against the ground. Archimedes waited for the noise to die down, then struck the second set of catapult strings.
'Good!' said Hieron, drowning the note. 'So don't do anything to scare them off early! No shouting, and absolutely no shooting, until I give the order. When they're nice and close, we're going to give them a warm greeting. You probably know we have a couple of new catapults here especially designed for greeting Romans. One says 'Welcome!' and the other says 'Good health!' When a two-talenter wishes you health, you'll never be ill again!'
Another roar, of laughter this time. Archimedes glanced around irritably, then tried striking the strings again.
'I want them smashed!' shouted the king, punching the air. 'When the catapults have done that, the lads that came up here with me can go pick up the pieces, and carry the bits back. I want prisoners, if we can take them. But the main job today is to let the enemy know what he can expect if he attacks Syracuse. Understood?'
In answer, the men bellowed the war cry, the fierce ululation howled out just before the clash of arms: alala! Hieron lifted his arms above his head, his purple cloak flapping, and shouted, 'Victory to Syracuse!' Archimedes set the winding gear down in exasperation. Hieron left the troop cheering and turned around to look at Archimedes. 'I hope it is ready to fire?' he asked, in a normal tone of voice.
'It would be,' said Archimedes disgustedly, 'if you would just keep quiet!'
Hieron grinned and gave an apologetic go-ahead wave of the hand. One of the men who was to operate the catapult struck the fixed strings, and Archimedes hit his own strings. Too low.
He tightened them a turn and a half, struck them again, and nodded to the catapultist. The man rapped out a sharp hollow note while the first sound still reverberated, and the two notes blended low and deadly on the still air.
'It's ready!' Archimedes said breathlessly. The king smiled tightly, gave a nod, and departed to watch from the gate.
Archimedes patted Good Health nervously, then went to the open artillery port to watch. He was vaguely aware of the catapult shifting beside him as its new team of operators tried the wind-lasses and elevator to train it on the enemy's advance. In the fields beyond, the Romans were continuing their slow march up the hill toward the walls of Syracuse.
