Roma

Kaeso lowered his eyes and nervously tapped at the gold fascinum at this neck, a precious heirloom that he had put on especially for this very important occasion.

The other two guests at the di

Seventy years had passed since Appius Claudius the Blind had delivered his stirring speech in the Senate against the Greek invader Pyrrhus. The final retreat of Pyrrhus from Italy was now a distant memory, but there were still old fighters alive who could remember the even greater war that followed, with Carthage. As Appius Claudius had predicted, after their mutual enemy Pyrrhus was defeated, Roma’s maritime rival had become her military foe. For over twenty years, in Sicily and Africa, on land and sea, the Romans and Carthaginians waged a bloody war. The peace that followed, on terms to Roma’s advantage, had lasted for a generation, but now the two cities were at war again, and Carthage, led by a general named Ha

“As you ride off into battle,” said Maximus, addressing his son and Scipio but pointedly ignoring Kaeso, “never forget: It wasn’t Roma that broke the peace. It was that mad schemer Ha

“Here, here!” said Quintus, raising his cup. Like his father, he was homely, and he displayed the same earnest scowl, which looked more like a pout on his youthful face.

Scipio raised his cup and joined the toast. Like Kaeso, Scipio had been blessed by the gods with striking looks, though his hair was darker and his features of a more rugged cast. He wore his hair long and swept back from his face—like Alexander, people said—and he was powerfully built. As a student, he had quickly matched and then exceeded the erudition of his tutors. As an athlete, he had excelled above all others. As a soldier, he had already made a name for himself. He was known for his sure, quick stride and his strong grip. Scipio made a powerful impression on everyone he met.

Kaeso belatedly raised his cup as well. Only Scipio seemed to take notice of him, tipping his cup in Kaeso’s direction and shooting him a quick smile.

“As you say, Maximus, the Carthaginians are most certainly in the wrong,” said Scipio. His deep voice was strong but mellow. People often remarked that he would make a fine orator when he was old enough to run for office. “But surely you misspeak when you say that Ha

“So he told his soldiers.” Quintus smirked. “He probably made up that dream to spur them on.”

“True or not, he set out from Spain and crossed the southern coast of Gaul. Everyone said the Alps would keep him out of Italy; no one thought he could cross the mountains with his army and his elephants intact. But he found a pass, and swept down upon us like a firestorm! One drubbing after another he’s given us. I was there with my father at the river Ticinus, in the first engagement of the war, when the day went so badly for us—”

“Don’t be modest, Scipio,” said Quintus. “You saved your father’s life when he was wounded on the battlefield, and everyone knows it.”

“I did what any son would do.” If Scipio downplayed his own bravery, he also glossed over the magnitude of the repeated defeats the Romans had received at Ha

In his devastating forays across the Italian peninsula, Ha

Even as his implacable hatred and seeming invincibility inspired their fear and loathing, Ha

“Now the one-eyed Cacus and his mongrel mercenaries have penetrated to the very heart of Italy,” said Quintus. “They roam and ravage at will, and pick off our allies one by one. But not for much longer, eh, Scipio?”

“Right you are, Quintus. Tomorrow we set out to hunt down Ha

Maximus grunted. “You know my opinion on this matter,” he said grimly. The previous year Maximus had been appointed dictator with emergency powers. While his colleagues in the Senate clamored for yet another confrontation with the invaders, Fabius had practiced a shadow war, hounding and harrying Ha

Now, the moment belonged to the newly elected consul Gaius Terentius Varro, a populist firebrand determined to take the battle to Ha

Kaeso looked at the two other young men and felt acutely aware of his physical limitations. Luckily for him, his imperfections had not been immediately apparent at birth, or otherwise he might have been exposed to the elements shortly after emerging from the womb; his mother had borne two previous sons with such gross physical defects that they had been carried off to die at the behest of Kaeso’s father. After Kaeso, his dispirited mother had given birth to no more children. When his father died at the battle of the Ticinus, Kaeso became paterfamilias of his small branch of the Fabii. But his freedom and status would do him little good; unable to complete the prerequisite ten years of military service, Kaeso would never be eligible to run for public office, and thus could never compete in the Course of Honor, the sequence of posts that led to the Senate and the higher magistracies.

Kaeso gazed across the room at his friend Scipio and was torn by mixed emotions. How he admired Scipio! How he envied him! Scipio’s steadfast friendship made him feel quite special, and yet, whenever he compared himself to Scipio, he felt only disdain for himself. Scipio was everything Kaeso was not.