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Authors: Ben Kane

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BOOK: The Road to Rome
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sestertius
(pl.
sestertii
): a silver coin, it was worth four
asses
; or a quarter of a
denarius
; or one hundredth of an
aureus
. Its name, ‘two units and a half third one’, comes from its original value, two and a half
asses
. By the time of the late Roman Republic, its use was becoming more common.

signifer
(pl.
signiferi
): a standard-bearer and junior officer. This was a position of high esteem, with one for every century in a legion. Not much definite information survives about the uniform worn by
signiferi
at this time. Following later examples, I have made the
signifer
wear scale armour and an animal skin over his helmet, and carry a small, round shield rather than a
scutum
. His
signum
, or standard, consisted of a wooden pole bearing a raised hand, or a spear tip surrounded by palm leaves. Below this was a crossbar from which hung metal decorations, or a piece of coloured cloth. The standard’s shaft was decorated with discs, half-moons, ships’ prows and crowns, which were records of the unit’s achievements and may have distinguished one century from another.

stade
(pl.
stadia
): a Greek word. It was the distance of the original foot race in the ancient Olympic games of 776
BC
, and was approximately 192 m (630 ft) in length. The word stadium derives from it.

stola
: a long, loose tunic, with or without sleeves, worn by married women. Those who were unmarried wore other types of tunic, but to simplify things, I have mentioned only one garment, worn by all.

tablinum
: the office or reception area beyond the
atrium
. The
tablinum
usually opened on to an enclosed colonnaded garden.

tesserarius
: one of the junior officers in a century, whose duties included commanding the guard. The name originates from the
tessera
tablet on which was written the password for the day.

testudo
: the famous Roman square formation, formed by legionaries in the middle raising their
scuta
over their heads while those at the sides formed a shield wall. The
testudo
, or tortoise, was used to resist missile attack or to protect soldiers while they undermined the walls of towns under siege. The formation’s strength was reputedly tested during military training by driving a cart pulled by mules over the top of it.

Thracian: like most gladiators, this class had its origins with one of Rome’s enemies – Thrace (modern-day Bulgaria). Armed with a small square shield with a convex surface, this fighter wore greaves on both legs and, occasionally,
fasciae
– protectors on the thighs. The right arm was covered by a
manica
. A Hellenistic-type helmet was worn, with a broad curving brim and cheek guards.

thureophoros
(pl.
thureophoroi
): an infantryman very similar to the peltast. The
thurephoroi
succeeded the peltasts as one of the most common type of mercenary in the eastern Mediterranean from the third century
BC
onwards. Grave paintings for
thureophoroi
have been found in Greece, Anatolia, Bithynia and Egypt. Carrying oval or rectangular shields rather than round ones, they wore Macedonian-style helmets and a variety of coloured tunics, and were armed with a long spear, javelins and a sword.

tribune: senior staff officer within a legion; also one of ten political positions in Rome, where they served as ‘tribunes of the people’, defending the rights of the plebeians. The tribunes could also veto measures taken by the Senate or consuls, except in times of war. To assault a tribune was a crime of the highest order.

trierarch: the captain of a trireme. Originally a Greek rank, the term persisted in the Roman navy.

triplex acies
: the standard deployment of a legion for battle. Three lines were formed some distance apart, with four cohorts in the front line and
three in the middle and rear lines. The gaps between the cohorts and between the lines themselves are unclear, but the legionaries would have been accustomed to different variations, and to changing these quickly when ordered.

trireme: the classic Roman warship, which was powered by a single sail and three banks of oars. Each oar was rowed by one man, who was freeborn, not a slave. Exceptionally manoeuvrable, and capable of up to 8 knots under sail or for short bursts when rowed, the trireme also had a bronze ram at the prow. This was used to damage or even sink enemy ships. Small catapults were also mounted on the deck. Each trireme was crewed by around 30 men and had approximately 200 rowers; it also carried up to 60 marines (in a reduced century), giving it a very large crew in proportion to its size. This limited the triremes’ range, so they were mainly used as troop transports and to protect coastlines.

valetudinarium
: the hospital in a legionary fort. These were usually rectangular buildings with a central courtyard. They contained up to 64 wards, each similar to the rooms in the legionary barracks which held a
contubernium
of soldiers.

velarium
: a cloth awning positioned over the seats of the rich at the arena. It protected them from the worst of the sun’s heat and allowed Roman women to remain fair-skinned, a most important quality.

venatores
(sing.
venator
): a trained beast-fighter. They hunted animals like antelope, wild goats and giraffe, and more dangerous ones such as lions, tigers, bears and elephants. Typically the lowest class of gladiator, the
venatores
provided the warm-up acts in the morning, before the main attraction of man-to-man combats later in the day.

Venus: the Roman goddess of motherhood and domesticity.

vexillum
(pl.
vexilla
): a distinctive, usually red, flag which was used to denote the commander’s position in camp or in battle.
Vexilla
were also used by detachments serving away from their units.

vilicus
: slave foreman or farm manager. Commonly a slave, the
vilicus
was sometimes a paid worker, whose job it was to make sure that the returns on a farm were as large as possible. This was most commonly done by treating the slaves brutally.

 

Now read a chapter from

 

 

SOLDIER OF CARTHAGE

 

 

The first book in Ben Kane’s thrilling new trilogy

 

Chapter I: Hanno

Carthage, late summer 220
BC

‘H
anno!’ His father’s voice echoed off the painted stucco walls. ‘It’s time to go.’

Stepping carefully over the gutter which 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 which his father had recently insisted he attend bored him to tears. Each one he’d 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 Barca’s actions in Iberia were exceeding the remit granted to him. Malchus – his father – and his closest allies, who supported Hannibal, would say little or nothing until the greybeards had fallen silent, when they stood forth one by one. Invariably, Malchus spoke last of all. His words seldom varied. Hannibal, who had only been commander in Iberia for a year, was doing an incredible job in cementing Carthage’s hold over the wild native tribes, forming a disciplined army, and most importantly, filling the city’s coffers with the silver from his mines. Who else was performing such heroic and worthy endeavours, while simultaneously enriching Carthage? On these grounds, the young Barca should be left to his own purposes.

Hanno knew that the first, and particularly the second, reasons were what motivated Malchus, but it was his last point which elicited the loudest reaction, the most nods of approval. The majority of Carthage’s leaders were, first and foremost, traders, whose primary interest was profit. According to Malchus though, their financial acuity – and greed – did not grant them the gift of political or military foresight. His carefully chosen
words therefore normally swayed the Senate in favour, which was why Hanno didn’t want to waste yet another day which could be spent fishing. The interminable politicking in the hallowed but airless debating chamber made him want to shout and 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 the hour of final reckoning so often predicted by Malchus wouldn’t come to pass today, Hanno was sure of that.

One of Hannibal’s messengers regularly visited to bring his father news from Iberia, and had been 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. Before Sapho and Bostar, his older brothers, had joined the army, they’d been allowed to stand in on the meetings. Swearing Hanno to secrecy, they had filled him in afterwards. Now the pair were gone, he simply eavesdropped. To his knowledge, there had been no mention so far of attacking Saguntum, a Greek city in Iberia which was allied to Rome. Yet the tension was rising. Saguntum had recently accused a tribe supported by Carthage of raiding its territory, and claimed substantial recompense. Hannibal had answered in his allies’ stead, dismissing Saguntum’s demands out of hand. His gesture possessed far more intent than just the defence of an ally: it was intended to offend Rome. Malchus and his allies had been charged by Hannibal’s messenger with the task of ensuring that the Carthaginian Senate continued to back his actions.

The deep, gravelly voice called out again, echoing down the corridor which led to the central courtyard. There was a hint of annoyance in it now. ‘Hanno? Where are you? We’ll be late.’

Hanno froze. He wasn’t afraid of the dressing down his father would deliver later, more of the disappointed look in his eyes. A scion of one of Carthage’s oldest families, Malchus led by example, and expected his 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. Farming, the traditional source of their wealth, interested him little. Warfare, his father’s preferred vocation, and Hanno’s great fascination, was barred to him still, thanks to his youth. Frustration, and resentment, filled him. All he could do was practise his riding and weapons skills. Life according to his father was so boring, Hanno 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 Melqart’s blessing, the fish won’t have moved far. We’ll catch dozens. Think of the money we’ll make!’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I’ve taken an amphora of wine from Father’s cellar. We can share it on the boat.’

Unable to resist his friend’s 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 house’s entrance. An inverted triangle topped by a flat line and then a circle, it represented his people’s preeminent deity. Few dwellings were without it. Hanno asked Tanit’s forgiveness for disobeying his father’s wishes, but his excitement was such that he forgot to ask for the mother goddess’s protection.

‘Hanno!’ His father’s voice was very near now.

Eager to avoid Malchus, the two young men darted off into the crowd. Both their families lived near the top of Byrsa Hill. At the summit, reached by a monumental staircase of sixty steps, was a immense temple dedicated to Eshmoun, the god of 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 Hanno’s oldest and closest friend. The pair had scarcely spent a day out of each other’s 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 city’s 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 senators also called the area home. For this reason, Hanno ran with his gaze directed at the packed earth and the regular soakaway holes beneath his feet. Plenty of people knew who he was. Having just reached manhood, he was supposed to attend most of the meetings that his father did. 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.

As long as he didn’t catch anyone’s eye, he and his friend would pass unnoticed. Bare-headed, and wearing tight-fitting red woollen singlets with a central white stripe and a distinctive wide neck band, and breeches that reached to the knee, the pair looked no different to other well-to-do youths. Their garb was far more practical than the long straight wool tunics and conical felt hats favoured by most adult men, and more comfortable than the ornate jacket and pleated apron worn by those of Cypriot extraction. Sheathed daggers hung from simple leather straps thrown over their shoulders. Suniaton carried a bulging leather pack on his back. Although people said that they could pass for brothers, Hanno couldn’t see it most of the time. While he was tall and athletic, Suniaton was short and squat. Naturally, they both had tightly curled black hair and a dark complexion, but there the resemblance ended. His face was thin, with a straight nose and high cheekbones, while his friend’s round visage and snub nose were complimented by a jutting chin. They did both have green eyes, Hanno conceded. That feature, unusual among the brown-eyed Carthaginians, was probably why they were thought to be siblings.

BOOK: The Road to Rome
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