Understood?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We’ll fill our bellies when Victumulae falls.’ Mutt was addressing everyone in earshot. ‘The grain stores there are fit to burst, I’m told.’
Ithobaal wasn’t going to give up completely. ‘When will we take the place, sir?’
‘Soon, you fool! It’s not much more than ten miles away, and our army is only a couple of days behind us. The siege won’t take long. If you’re lucky, some of you might even find a supply of wine inside the walls. If your luck isn’t in in that regard, Ithobaal, you’d best hope that your whingeing hasn’t pissed off those of your mates who do strike it rich.’
The smiles broke out at last but Mutt was already walking away. ‘I’d tell you to sing, but you’d make too much noise,’ he announced in a loud voice. ‘Talk among yourselves instead to make the time go by. Imagine the spring sunshine in Iberia. Think of the whores who worked in the Crescent Moon, that tavern in New Carthage, and the good wine they served there.’ More than one man groaned, and Mutt nodded in satisfaction. He’d caught the mood in time. Experience had taught him to act sooner rather later in such situations, or morale could be soured for the rest of the day.
Catching sight of Hanno at the front of the patrol lifted Mutt’s mood a little more, and helped him not to think of his nightmare, which kept creeping into his mind. After the grievous loss of their previous commander in the Alps, Mutt had led the men as best he could, but leading a phalanx didn’t come naturally to him. Being second-in-command, now that was all right, but not the other. Still, he’d had to do it, or the men would have fallen apart. Not long after they had descended from the mountains, exhausted beyond belief, word had come that a new officer would be taking charge of the unit. Mutt had rarely been so relieved.
His emotion had changed to concern, however, when he’d first seen the tall, rangy figure of Hanno. I remember thinking that he barely needs to shave, thought Mutt. That he’d have to be a jumped up little shit to be appointed commander so young. His worries had turned out to be groundless. The boy was no snob, and from the start he had thrown himself into getting to know the men. At the Trebia, Hanno had more than proved his mettle, leading from the front of the phalanx.Yet, despite their victory, the fighting had been savage. The main Roman assault that day — a charge by an enormous bloc of legionaries — had fallen on their Gaulish allies, but more than one phalanx had been sucked into the fighting and completely wiped out. Through a combination of luck and sheer bloody-mindedness, Hanno had managed to keep his men together and away from the maelstrom.
Hiss. Hiss
. At first, Mutt didn’t take in what he had heard, but the thumps and subsequent shrieks as the arrows sank into his soldiers’ flesh entirely focused his mind.
Hiss. Hiss
. More dark shapes scudded in. Mutt’s gaze shot to the right of the track. Among the trees and bushes some twenty paces away, he spotted the dark figures of men, bows upraised. Gods above, why hadn’t the scouts seen them, he wondered? ‘Ambush! Ambush!’ he bellowed. ‘Spears down. Shields off your backs — at the double!’
He dropped his own spear. His fingers, stiff with cold, fumbled with the buckle of the strap that held his shield across his chest.
Hiss. Hiss
. A cry from very close by him. The fletches on an arrow that had thumped into the mud by his feet quivered. Mutt cursed savagely. Slow, he was being too slow. Don’t look up, he told himself. Ignore the arrows. Concentrate. At last the tongue of the buckle shifted and the weight of the shield dragged it down his back. With the ease of long practice, and the speed granted by buttock-clenching fear, Mutt spun and grabbed for the handle that was set under the iron boss.
The instant he had a firm grip on that, the shield went up, over his body and head. Moving too fast
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We’ll fill our bellies when Victumulae falls.’ Mutt was addressing everyone in earshot. ‘The grain stores there are fit to burst, I’m told.’
Ithobaal wasn’t going to give up completely. ‘When will we take the place, sir?’
‘Soon, you fool! It’s not much more than ten miles away, and our army is only a couple of days behind us. The siege won’t take long. If you’re lucky, some of you might even find a supply of wine inside the walls. If your luck isn’t in in that regard, Ithobaal, you’d best hope that your whingeing hasn’t pissed off those of your mates who do strike it rich.’
The smiles broke out at last but Mutt was already walking away. ‘I’d tell you to sing, but you’d make too much noise,’ he announced in a loud voice. ‘Talk among yourselves instead to make the time go by. Imagine the spring sunshine in Iberia. Think of the whores who worked in the Crescent Moon, that tavern in New Carthage, and the good wine they served there.’ More than one man groaned, and Mutt nodded in satisfaction. He’d caught the mood in time. Experience had taught him to act sooner rather later in such situations, or morale could be soured for the rest of the day.
Catching sight of Hanno at the front of the patrol lifted Mutt’s mood a little more, and helped him not to think of his nightmare, which kept creeping into his mind. After the grievous loss of their previous commander in the Alps, Mutt had led the men as best he could, but leading a phalanx didn’t come naturally to him. Being second-in-command, now that was all right, but not the other. Still, he’d had to do it, or the men would have fallen apart. Not long after they had descended from the mountains, exhausted beyond belief, word had come that a new officer would be taking charge of the unit. Mutt had rarely been so relieved.
His emotion had changed to concern, however, when he’d first seen the tall, rangy figure of Hanno. I remember thinking that he barely needs to shave, thought Mutt. That he’d have to be a jumped up little shit to be appointed commander so young. His worries had turned out to be groundless. The boy was no snob, and from the start he had thrown himself into getting to know the men. At the Trebia, Hanno had more than proved his mettle, leading from the front of the phalanx.Yet, despite their victory, the fighting had been savage. The main Roman assault that day — a charge by an enormous bloc of legionaries — had fallen on their Gaulish allies, but more than one phalanx had been sucked into the fighting and completely wiped out. Through a combination of luck and sheer bloody-mindedness, Hanno had managed to keep his men together and away from the maelstrom.
Hiss. Hiss
. At first, Mutt didn’t take in what he had heard, but the thumps and subsequent shrieks as the arrows sank into his soldiers’ flesh entirely focused his mind.
Hiss. Hiss
. More dark shapes scudded in. Mutt’s gaze shot to the right of the track. Among the trees and bushes some twenty paces away, he spotted the dark figures of men, bows upraised. Gods above, why hadn’t the scouts seen them, he wondered? ‘Ambush! Ambush!’ he bellowed. ‘Spears down. Shields off your backs — at the double!’
He dropped his own spear. His fingers, stiff with cold, fumbled with the buckle of the strap that held his shield across his chest.
Hiss. Hiss
. A cry from very close by him. The fletches on an arrow that had thumped into the mud by his feet quivered. Mutt cursed savagely. Slow, he was being too slow. Don’t look up, he told himself. Ignore the arrows. Concentrate. At last the tongue of the buckle shifted and the weight of the shield dragged it down his back. With the ease of long practice, and the speed granted by buttock-clenching fear, Mutt spun and grabbed for the handle that was set under the iron boss.
The instant he had a firm grip on that, the shield went up, over his body and head. Moving too fast
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