Total War Rome: Destroy Carthage by David Gibbins Page B

battlefield.

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    â€˜Scipio! It’s ready!’ The voice came from the corner of the room opposite Hippolyta, from a wide recess containing a fireplace. Fabius could just make out a figure in the gloom squatting over the brazier, a lighted tallow candle in one hand. He saw Scipio glance anxiously at the door where the centurion would arrive, and then look at the others. ‘All right. Ennius has something to show us. But at the first sound of the centurion coming down the corridor, everyone rushes back to their places around the table. You know what old Petraeus thinks of Ennius’ inventions. We’ll all be for it.’
    They crowded around the recess, Hippolyta included. Polybius stood alongside Scipio, his hands behind his back, peering with interest over the others, looking much more a scholar than a soldier. Ennius’ experiments of the last few months owed much to Polybius, who had introduced him to the wonders of Greek science and fuelled his fascination with military engineering. Scipio nudged Polybius. ‘So what ancient magic have you revealed to him this time, my friend?’
    Polybius shrugged. ‘We talked yesterday about Thucydides’ account of the siege of Delium.’
    Gulussa was standing beside them, and looked keenly at Polybius. ‘In the year of the three hundred and fiftieth Olympiad, that is, a hundred and fifty-six years ago,’ he said, his Latin accented with the soft guttural sound of Numidian. ‘The action where the philosopher Socrates fought as a hoplite, when the Athenians were routed by the Boeotians. The first major battle in history to involve full-scale tactical planning, including the detailed coordination of cavalry and infantry.’
    Polybius cocked an eye at him. ‘You listen to my lectures well, Gulussa. Full marks.’
    Scipio peered into the recess. ‘So what is it? Some kind of engine of war?’
    â€˜All I know is that after I told him about the siege he disappeared off to Ostia, where he has a friend in a back alley behind the harbour who supplies him with all manner of exotic substances, brought from all corners of the earth,’ Polybius replied.
    â€˜That would be Polyarchos the Alexandrian,’ Scipio said resignedly. ‘Usually that means pyrotechnics, and usually you can’t get the smell out of your clothes for days.’
    Ennius had his back towards them and was shaping something with his hands on the brazier, moulding it. ‘Just give me a moment,’ he said, his voice muffled in the recess. Fabius listened out for the centurion’s distinctive step, but only heard the swish of blades and the sound of scuffled feet in the arena below, and the occasional grunt. Brutus had left them during the study period, and was practising his swordplay again. Fabius turned back to the squatting figure in the gloom. Since Fabius had first met him as a boy, playing on the Palatine Hill with Scipio, Ennius had been intrigued by all manner of contraptions: bridges, boats, cranes for bringing stone columns and blocks into the city, the principles of architecture. The old centurion approved of that: when a legionary was not fighting, his proper job was to dig fortifications and build forts, presided over by centurions who prided themselves on their building skills almost as much as their fighting prowess.
    But Ennius’ latest craze was a different matter altogether. With Polybius’ introduction to Greek science had come a fascination with fire. Ennius had even accompanied Ptolemy when he had sailed back to Egypt three months ago, after Ptolemy had been recalled from the academy to assume the throne of Egypt. Ostensibly Ennius had accompanied him for Ptolemy’s marriage ritual and to go crocodile-hunting, but mainly he had wanted to visit the university at Alexandria to see the work of Greek scientists at first hand, and he had returned only the week before, overflowing with enthusiasm. He had even