Chapter 28

Syrakousa, Sicilia

Ky sat with Bomilcar and Auspex as the two legions fanned out, marching toward the wall of Syrakousa. The only good part of the slow march down Italy, chasing the fleeing Carthaginians, was that it had given the men a lot of practice assaulting fortified positions with rifles and cannon.

After first Daramouda and then Rome, they had learned that, in spite of the technological difference in their forces, the Carthaginians were far from helpless. Ky assumed there’d be a trap waiting for them here, as there had been outside the walls of Rome. That went doubly, now that they’d learned the Carthaginians had, somehow, managed to acquire the ability to make cannons of their own. What bothered Ky was that, this time, it wasn’t just a copy of Britannian weapons. These cannon were much simpler than the weapons Ky had taught his people to build, using techniques from developmental stages of artillery production that Ky had skipped over, deciding to go straight for early and then late nineteenth century designs.

According to Sophus, these were close to designs found in the late fourteen hundreds. A little better built maybe, but still un-reinforced tubes made of brass that would have serious structural problems if fired too much.

Not that they weren’t dangerous. These were the types of weapons that had brought down the walls of Constantinople and toppled the last remnants of the original Roman Empire, back in his future’s past.

Which is why they had their lines well separated, to keep from letting the cannon tear them apart. It also meant that his men would have to form squares if cavalry appeared, which was another reason for the slow approach to the wall.

Of all the things Ky had expected and prepared for, none of them covered what was actually happening. As the legions closed to within range of the walls, the city gates creaked open. Ky was ready to sound the call for the men to form into squares when, instead of cavalry, a small group, of what appeared to be civilians, emerged from the gates, waving a white strip of cloth, stopping a few steps from the gates. Ky and Bomilcar looked at each other.

Every fiber of Ky’s being shouted that this was some kind of trap. It had to be. Nothing else made sense, and the Carthaginians had shown how willing they were to resort to those very tricks.

Still, unless they were ready to open fire on unarmed men, there was little choice in the matter.

Ky and Bomilcar nudged their horses forward, signaling several squads of legionaries to follow them, leaving a nervous-looking Auspex behind. Ky knew what the younger legionary was thinking. If this was a trap, his two superiors would be in the middle of it, leaving him on his own.

It was a valid concern, but Ky wanted to know what was happening, and he didn’t want to get it secondhand. As they drew closer, Ky could see that the men were elderly, their clothing generally of better quality than that of most people he’d seen under Carthaginian rule. The man holding the white cloth stepped forward, looking between Ky, Bomilcar and the soldiers, clearly very nervous.

“Greetings. I am Evander, the mayor of Syrakousa.”

Ky studied the man for a moment before saying, “I’m not sure why the Carthaginians sent you out, but if they want to surrender, we will need the highest military leader in the city, and not a civilian. Otherwise, our attack will commence promptly.”

“I think you misunderstand. There are no Carthaginians in the city.”

“What do you mean?” Bomilcar asked, again exchanging concerned glances with Ky.

“The Carthaginians abandoned the city two days ago, taking everything they could carry with them.”

Ky frowned. In other situations, it would make sense for an outnumbered military force facing an opponent that had shown its capability for taking down defensive walls to run, but the Carthaginians had never done that before. They’d retreated, as they had in Italy, but when given the chance to stand in a fortified city, they always did. They’d captured enough men to know their emperor had issued orders not to give up one meter of soil.

For them to just run from a fight was antithetical to everything Ky had seen so far from them.

“Where did they go?” he asked.

“They left the city by the west gate and headed further in that direction, but I overheard them talking about going to Africa once they reached a port closer to the coast. However, I do not know if that was true or not.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ky said. “We’ve had reports of their movements all along, and there are more of our ships in the area now, not less. There’s no chance of their entire army getting across. Why wait until we’re almost at the gates to make a run for it?”

“Perhaps they didn’t think we’d make it across and land in Sicilia,” Bomilcar offered.

“Maybe,” Ky said, not sounding like he believed it. “Or maybe it’s a trick. Lately they’ve gotten very good at coming up with ways to get around our superior weapons.”

“I’m not lying, I swear it! You can march through the front gate and see for yourselves. The city is empty of Carthaginians.”

“If you want me to believe this isn’t a trap, trying to get me to march my legions into tight streets where our weapons give no advantage is not doing it.”

The man looked helplessly from Ky to Bomilcar and back, clearly trying to figure out how to convince them he was not lying.

“Either way, unless we just want to stay outside these walls forever, or put it under siege and starve everyone out just in case this is a trick, we’re going to have to send someone in to look at things. We were ready to take the walls by force, so there is risk either way.”

“You and your group wait here,” Ky commanded the mayor.

He doubted these nervous men were part of a plan to notify people inside the city or that the Carthaginian army, if they were still here, would care about sacrificing a civilian to pull it off, but Ky still wanted to keep him and his group here as hostages until they knew it was safe.

“Send two squads forward to check it out,” Ky ordered Bomilcar.

At the general’s command, twenty legionaries came trotting forward out of the main line.

“Take your men into the city,” Ky commanded one of the decani in the group. “Search as many streets and buildings as you can, look for any signs that this is a trap or that the Carthaginian army may still be inside the walls. If you find anything suspicious, no matter how minor, report back immediately. If not, return in thirty minutes with a full report.”

“Yes, Consul!” the man said, saluting sharply, then barking orders to the men with him.

The minutes ticked by, Ky straining his remarkable hearing as far as he could, listening for gunshots, shouts, or anything else that might indicate the men had sprung a trap. The fact that he heard nothing only served to unnerve him more. Not only did he hear no sign of warning from his men, but there was little noise at all coming from the city. It was still occupied, but normally massive cities required Sophus to dial down the volume and filter out much of the noise, to keep it from damaging Ky’s enhanced senses.

None of that was needed here. For a city, it was eerily quiet.

Finally, as the chronometer in Ky’s vision almost clicked down the last of the thirty minutes, the decanus emerged through the gates, his men followed close behind. He approached Ky and Bomilcar, saluting once more.

“Consul, we found no signs of Carthaginians within the city. The people seem to be mostly hiding in their homes, but otherwise, everything is quiet. No indication of any military presence.”

“I’m still not comfortable just marching the legions in. They must have known we’d send in a group to check, and there’s no way the squads made it to the south gate. There’s still lots of places for their soldiers to be hiding.”

“We could send in a full century,” Bomilcar suggested. “Have them spread out through the city. As they secure each district, more can follow until we have complete coverage. That way, we’re not spread out and the men can hold each block, staying prepared for an attack.”

“Risky, but better than nothing, I guess. Work outward from this gate, establishing a parameter and have the men make sure any one group does not get too far ahead.”

Orders were passed, and groups of legionaries began moving into the city, one century at a time. Ky sat patiently, as a hundred and then thousands of men passed through the gate, slowly spreading out through the streets and alleys, almost making the city sound alive with the noise they generated.

An hour progressed, and still every report was that there were no signs of the Carthaginians anywhere within the walls of the city. A full legion now patrolled the streets, yet they encountered only frightened civilians huddled in their homes.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Ky said to Bomilcar before turning to the mayor. “You’re coming with us. We’re going to see this for ourselves.”

The man looked nervous, but fell in behind Ky and Bomilcar, Ky’s lictore pressed in close to them. The city looked closed, as if everyone who lived here had taken the day off or had traveled to somewhere else. Shutters were closed, doors barred. They only saw the occasional child’s face peeking out a window before being hurriedly pulled back.

“General,” one of the legions tribunes said, riding up to their small group. “We’ve reached the far wall, still no sign of the enemy. We’ve searched all large public buildings and have men on most street corners. If they’re here, they’re very well hidden.”

“They must have known the city was going to fall,” Bomilcar suggested to Ky. “Perhaps they truly did flee west to a port where they could escape to Africa.”

“Maybe,” Ky said, still sounding unconvinced. “But I won’t believe this city is truly empty until we’ve scoured it from top to bottom.”

“I can have the men conduct a house-to-house search. If they’re still here, that’s where they have to be. It will take time, however.”

“Fine. In the meantime, have the remaining legion set up a fortified camp outside the city walls. I want all our artillery positioned there, just in case. Your legion will quarter here in the city tonight, but stay on high alert. Let me know if you find any wooden horses.”

“As you command, Consul,” Bomilcar said with a slight chuckle.

Devnum As Cormac made his way from the docks to the Palace Complex, he was amazed by how much the city had grown in his absence. He didn’t know if the city, already seemingly the busiest place in existence, had actually grown and become more lively, or if it was just the six months he’d spent in Hispania, with its much slower pace, relatively, that made him forget how mad this city was.