“I know. You best get started.”
“And what about the survivors who aren’t of the Roman elite?”
Hannibal stared at his man for a long time before he finally answered.
“Use your imagination.”
Hasdrubal smile widened as he took a long swig from the wineskin before he kicked his horse, and raced down towards the battlefield. Already Hannibal’s mind turned towards the future, which for him, was strangely uncertain.
Rome was defeated and left open to him. What was stopping him from marching his army to its gates now?
Nothing…yet, he was hesitant, despite his victory this day, there were still many uncertainties. He knew this enemy — Rome, was a hydra. He had severed its head so many times all ready — its body was far from dead, that he knew, even as he watched the endmost vestiges of survivors slaughtered — no quarter given. Rome would, however, rise again. This fact vexed him without end, even upon his great victory.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
It was silent, far to tranquil. Gaius hated silence. He needed activity: the sounds of a city or the steady breeze of a warm summer’s day, as farmers worked their fields — the sounds of their pickaxes breaking through the earth, curing up rocks, dirt, with the songs of birds overhead. Here in the nearly abandoned city of Canusium, it was eerily still, as if everyone knew a terrible storm was brewing over the hills. Only a handful of the town’s people stayed behind. A few stubborn farmers and store owners, or those that simply had nowhere else to go. Tens of thousands already fled to Rome, or the southern most cities. However, in truth, there wasn’t anywhere people could go, north, south, east or west. The enemies of Rome were everywhere, or so it seemed.
Standing up on top of the high stone wall that surrounded the town, Gaius looked out towards the east, towards Cannae. He and his men came to this place two days ago, on orders to make ready for any casualties who might come this way once the battle was won. He knew it was an excuse. There was no real reason to expect any Roman casualties to come this direction, not if the battle was indeed won, not when the main army’s camp had all the needs for those wounded. And if not the camp, then the city of Cannae would suffice.
Gaius wanted to be at Cannae more than anything. He had no real wish to be in a battle against Hannibal, not after surviving Trebia. Still, he wanted to be with the army. He wanted to be doing more than babysitting a small and unimportant settlement as this. It was his right as a soldier of the Republic to face his enemies head on, and not be sent away on the Eve of Rome’s finest victory, or its greatest defeat.
A part of him hated Antony for what he had done. Why he sent him away? It was unprofessional to put his feelings before his duty as an officer. The Wolves deserved to be at Cannae. They had fought, lost and suffered as much as any two legions since this war had begun. Still, however, something in Gaius’ old friend’s eyes told him a different story. It wasn’t as if Antony was afraid of battle. While he wasn’t nearly as seasoned or as trained as he, Antony was no coward, Gaius knew that. It seemed as if he had seen something, perhaps a vision of what was to come in his dreams; that something horrible was coming, and that he needed Gaius away from it; for Rome, for himself, for Julia.
He knew the reasoning, but failed to understand its meaning. Now going on two full days, there was no word from the army. The battle should have started by now. However, there had been no dispatch or wounded coming in from Cannae from the time he arrived at Canusium. If there was a victory, subsequently Rome would have sent word. Even if the battle was a defeat, still word would have arrived about what actions the men stationed here should take.
Even the worst imaginable defeat couldn’t have been that suffered.
Gaius could not take it anymore as he had spent the better part of the day pacing back and forth along the high walls, looking out over the rolling brown hills that surrounded the town, waiting, hoping for any sign from Cannae to reach them. He was done waiting. If he had to ride out to Cannae on his own, he would. However, before he deserted the army to seek his answers, Gaius figured he had better ask permission first, and see what came of it.
As he walked down the crowded streets towards the building that Valerius had chosen for his headquarters, the roads were mostly filled with bored and frustrated soldiers who had little to do, other than sit out in the hot sun and speculate among themselves why they were here, doing nothing.
They, like he, needed to know what was going on. Many were not happy about missing the battle, victory or defeat they just wanted to be where the action was. Some watched Gaius as he walked by them, he could tell that they wanted to ask him for any updates, if he knew anything, but most hesitated, seeing that he was obviously rushing towards the headquarters.
Truthfully, for the whole fourteen minutes that it took him to cross the town he was trying to think of a million and one excuses that he could make up so that Valerius would authorize him to take men to the battlefield. When he finally reached the building and stepped inside, into what had been the home of one of Canusium’s wealthier citizens, he saw Valerius in the back room, in what had been the dining hall. A dozen aides were with him, all going back and forth taking care of the various orders that Valerius was issuing out. He had scouts in the field, shift rotations for men behind the walls that needed taking care of, management of the food stocks, and over a thousand men who were bored with nothing to do but listen to each other’s fears and doubts about what was happening.
Valerius glanced up and saw Gaius standing in the doorway. To even his surprise, Gaius never got the chance to say anything — use one of his reasons for why he should take some men to Cannae. He had a good argument ready, but Valerius just looked back down at his maps and started speaking.
“I want you to take the first cavalry cohort to Cannae. Find out what the fuck is going out there, and report back to me once you have some answers. Is that understood?”
Gaius perked up, standing a bit taller as he was a loss for words. He didn't expect his old mentor to issue such an order.
“Yes, sir. At once.”
Gaius turned quickly and raced out of the manor and towards the army barracks that housed the men he would be taking with him to Cannae. It took him less than five minutes, and when he called forth the eighty men that he would be taking, they all eagerly leaped to their feet, grabbed their gear, and raced off with Gaius.
The distance between the city of Canusium and Cannae was covered by Gaius and his men fairly quickly. They had left Canusium in the morning, and now with less than an hour before night fall, he could see the surrounding hills of Cannae before him. And immediately, he knew something was wrong as he could see thousands of birds circling overhead, further towards the plains set between the city of Cannae, which was where Hannibal had based his army, and the Roman camp.
He kicked his horse, demanded that it run faster as he needed to get to the far side of the hill and see for himself what he already knew a battle took place. But who won? The knot in his stomach gave him early indications that it wasn’t his side.
It was very hot, and the smell of the dead and putrid flesh hit him hard as he rounded the bend, following a narrow paved road that was cut in between two daunting hills. And then, when the fields of Cannae came into view, Gaius’ mouth opened wide as, he and his men stopped abruptly in their tracks.
For miles, further than he could see with his naked eyes, laid the bodies of tens of thousands, all stretched out, and clumped together like stacks of logs, as if an entire forest had been cut down.
Banners, flags and standards of the various Roman cohorts, units and entire legions stuck out of the ground, between the fallen. Birds, thousands, more than Gaius had ever seen flew, landing between the dead, filling their bellies with putrid human flesh; even wild dogs had come down from the hills and walked among the Roman deceased as well. None fought one another, there were so many bodies that they could feast for months without worry of hunger.
Gaius and his men slowly trotted into the battlefield. Along the outer edges, they could see the severed heads of their countrymen stuck on pikes, a clear warning set by the barbarians that were under Hannibal’s
