Ben Kane - Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

ENEMY OF ROME

The great Carthaginian general, Hannibal, has never forgotten the defeat and humiliation of his father by Rome. Now he plans his revenge and the destruction of the old enemy.

SOLDIER OF CARTHAGE

While Hannibal prepares for war, the young son of one of his most trusted military commanders goes on an innocent adventure with his best friend and disappears.

SLAVERY

Captured by pirates, put up for sale in the slave market, one of the boys is sold as a gladiator, the other as a field slave. They believe they will never see home or family again.

A WORLD AFLAME

But their destiny interwoven and linked with that of their Roman masters is to be an extraordinary one. The devastating war unleashed upon Rome by Hannibal will last for nearly twenty years. It will change their lives and history forever.

Ben Kane was born in Kenya and raised there and in Ireland. He studied veterinary medicine at University College, Dublin, but after that he travelled the world extensively, indulging in his passion for ancient history. He lives in North Somerset with his wife and two young children.

Carthage, spring

HANNO ! HIS FATHER S voice echoed off the painted stucco walls. Its time to go.

Stepping carefully over the gutter that carried liquid waste out to the soakaway in the street, Hanno looked back. He was torn between his duty and the urgent gestures of his friend, Suniaton. The political meetings his father had recently insisted he attend bored him to tears. Each one hed been to followed exactly the same path. A group of self-important, bearded elders, clearly fond of the sound of their own voices, made interminable speeches about how Hannibal Barcas actions in Iberia were exceeding the remit granted to him. Malchus his father and his closest allies, who supported Hannibal, said little or nothing until the greybeards had fallen silent, when they would stand forth one by one. Invariably, Malchus spoke last of all. His words seldom varied. Hannibal, who had been commander in Iberia for just three years, was doing an outstanding job in cementing Carthages hold over the wild native tribes, forming a disciplined army and, most importantly, filling the citys coffers with the silver from his mines. Who else was pursuing such heroic and worthy endeavours while simultaneously enriching Carthage? In defending the tribes who had been attacked by Saguntum, a city allied to Rome, he was merely reinforcing their peoples sovereignty in Iberia. On these grounds, the young Barca should be left to his own devices.

Hanno knew that what motivated the politicians was fear, partly assuaged by the thought of Hannibals forces, and greed, partly satisfied by the shiploads of precious metal from Iberia. Malchus carefully chosen words therefore normally swayed the Senate in Hannibals favour, but only after endless hours of debate. The interminable politicking made Hanno want to scream, and to tell the old fools what he really thought of them. Of course he would never shame his father in that manner, but nor could he face yet another day stuck indoors. The idea of a fishing trip held too much appeal.

One of Hannibals messengers regularly came to bring his father news from Iberia, and had visited not a week since. The night-time rendezvous were supposed to be a secret, but Hanno had soon come to recognise the cloaked, sallow-skinned officer. Sapho and Bostar, his older brothers, had been allowed to stand in on the meetings for some time. Swearing Hanno to secrecy, Bostar had filled him in afterwards. Now, if he was able, Hanno simply eavesdropped. In a nutshell, Hannibal had charged Malchus and his allies with the task of ensuring that the politicians continued to back his actions. A showdown with the city of Saguntum was imminent, but conflict with Rome, Carthages old enemy, was some way off yet.

The deep, gravelly voice called out again, echoing down the corridor that led to the central courtyard. There was a hint of annoyance in it now. Hanno? Well be late.

Hanno froze. He wasnt afraid of the dressing down his father would deliver later, more of the disappointed look in his eyes. A scion of one of Carthages oldest families, Malchus led by example, and expected his three sons to do the same. At seventeen, Hanno was the youngest. He was also the one who most often failed to meet these exacting standards. For some reason, Malchus expected more of him than he did of Sapho and Bostar. At least thats how it seemed to Hanno. Yet farming, the traditional source of their wealth, interested him little. Warfare, his fathers preferred vocation, and Hannos great fascination, was barred to him still, thanks to his youth. His brothers would be sailing for Iberia any day. There, no doubt, they would cover themselves in glory in the taking of Saguntum. Frustration and resentment filled Hanno. All he could do was practise his riding and weapons skills. Life as ordained by his father was so boring, he thought, choosing to ignore Malchus oft-repeated statement: Be patient. All good things come to those who wait.

Come on! urged Suniaton, thumping Hanno on the arm. His gold earrings jingled as he jerked his head in the direction of the harbour. The fishermen found huge shoals of tunny in the bay at dawn. With Melqarts blessing, the fish wont have moved far. Well catch dozens. Think of the money to be made! His voice dropped to a whisper. Ive taken an amphora of wine from Fathers cellar. We can share it on the boat.

Unable to resist his friends offer, Hanno blocked his ears to Malchus voice, which was coming closer. Tunny was one of the most prized fish in the Mediterranean. If the shoals were close to shore, this was an opportunity too good to miss. Stepping into the rutted street, he glanced once more at the symbol etched into the stone slab before the flat-roofed houses entrance. An inverted triangle topped by a flat line and then a circle, it represented his peoples pre-eminent deity. Few dwellings were without it. Hanno asked Tanits forgiveness for disobeying his fathers wishes, but his excitement was such that he forgot to ask for the mother goddesss protection.

Hanno! His fathers voice was very near now.

Without further ado, the two young men darted off into the crowd. Both their families dwelled near the top of Byrsa Hill. At the summit, reached by a monumental staircase of sixty steps, was an immense temple dedicated to Eshmoun, the god of fertility, health and well-being. Suniaton lived with his family in the sprawling complex behind the shrine, where his father served as a priest. Named in honour of the deity, Eshmuniaton abbreviated to Suniaton or simply Suni was Hannos oldest and closest friend. The pair had scarcely spent a day out of each others company since they were old enough to walk.

The rest of the neighbourhood was primarily residential. Byrsa was one of the richer quarters, as its wide, straight thoroughfares and right-angled intersections proved. The majority of the citys winding streets were no more than ten paces across, but here they averaged more than twice this width. In addition to wealthy merchants and senior army officers, the suffetes judges and many elders also called the area home. For this reason, Hanno ran with his gaze directed at the packed earth and the regular soak-away holes beneath his feet. Plenty of people knew who he was. The last thing he wanted was to be stopped and challenged by one of Malchus numerous political opponents. To be dragged back home by the ear would be embarrassing and bring dishonour to his family.