Chapter 31

Carthage

The room, usually bustling with courtiers and petitioners, was eerily silent. Imilcar slouched against the gilded backrest, not even bothering to hide the lines of worry and fatigue any longer.

He could see the few courtiers and generals attending him looking concerned, but he didn’t know if it even mattered. The recent landing attempts by Roman forces so close to his capital had dealt a devastating blow to his already waning confidence. He had always prided himself on his ability to maintain control and order, but now it seemed that everything was slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Gentlemen,” he began, his voice low and somber, “it appears that our efforts to repel the Roman invaders have been ... insufficient. Only the forces we put along our coast kept them from landing directly on top of us. While they did an excellent job repelling their landings, we do not have enough men to cover the entire coast. It is now apparent that we will not keep them out of Africa.”

The men shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with their emperor, as they usually did, waiting for his outburst. For the orders to execute whoever was in charge of the latest fiasco.

Instead, Imilcar said, “In light of this development, I have come to a difficult decision. We must withdraw all our forces from across the empire and consolidate our defenses around Carthage itself. I know most of the continent has been abandoned, but what forces there still are in Greece or anywhere else on the continent, as well as Asia, are to return home at once.”

A wave of shock passed through everyone in the room.

General Hadar cleared his throat and said, “Your Excellency, does this include our vital regions in Persia and Egypt?”

“Yes, General. All regions.”

“But, Your Eminence, Egypt is of strategic importance to us. It serves as the primary trade route for receiving shipments from the TianYou. This includes both the gunpowder and cannons. If we lose control over Egypt, we effectively cut off our supply of weaponry.”

“And what do you suggest, General? That we spread our forces thin, trying to defend every corner of the empire while the Romans march on our capital?”

“No, Mighty One. Of course not. I just ... I am not sure we can hold off the Romans without those weapons.”

Imilcar wasn’t sure they could hold off the Romans with them either, but the general had a point.

“Very well, General Hadar. We shall maintain our presence in Egypt to protect the trade route. But Persia and Anatolia must be abandoned. We cannot sustain our holdings there any longer, not with the Romans bearing down upon us.”

“As you command, Your Excellency. But the forces currently stationed in those regions, by the time they reach us, the enemy will already have set foot on African soil.”

“A good point,” Imilcar said. “They are to consolidate their forces and engage the Romans directly, with orders to inflict as much damage and as many casualties as possible. They are to use their entire forces if they must, but I want the Romans utterly weakened before they reach our walls.”

“Sire?” an advisor said, stepping forward. “These commands. Such a strategy ... it would mean...”

“It would mean,” Imilcar interrupted. “That we are no longer the empire we once were. We are now a power confined to Africa. Unless you have armies tucked away inside your robes, or the favor of the gods to bring the sun down and crush our enemies, I’m not sure what other option we have. Make no mistake, gentlemen. This is our last stand. We will make the Romans bleed for every inch of ground they take. We will fight them in the deserts, in the mountains, in the very streets of Carthage if we must, but we will not surrender. Not while a single one of us still draws breath.”

The room fell silent as the gravity of Imilcar’s words sank in. He wasn’t done yet, however.

“To that end,” he continued. “Any town, village, or people that could aid the Romans or provide them with supplies is to be destroyed as our forces withdraw.”

“Your Excellency, are you suggesting we ... eliminate our own citizens?”

“I am ordering exactly that. The populace is to be either absorbed into the army or ... dealt with. We cannot risk leaving anything behind that the Romans could use to their advantage.”

“But, Your Eminence,” another general interjected, “many of these people have been loyal to Carthage for generations. To turn against them now...”

“Loyalty means nothing if it leads to our downfall,” Imilcar snapped. “I want the Romans starving and weakened by the time they reach the gates of Carthage. If that means sacrificing our own, then so be it.”

“As you command, Your Excellency,” Hadar said, before anyone else could offer new arguments. “We shall begin the preparations immediately.”

“See that you do, General. And remember, failure is not an option. The survival of Carthage depends on the success of this plan.”

Dismissed, the generals and advisors filed out of the room, leaving Imilcar with only a few attendants as he stared at the ornate map of the empire that dominated the far wall. The once-vibrant tapestry of colors representing Carthage’s vast holdings now seemed to mock him, a reminder of all that he had lost and all that he stood to lose.

He wasn’t going down without a fight. If his reign ended with him, he’d take as many of the damned Romans as he could with him and leave nothing of his vast empire but blood and sand.

North African Coast, West of Egypt The darkened waves lapped at the longboats as they glided towards the North African coast. Unlike the last time, there was no artillery or horde of men forced into the ocean at arrow point. They were a days sail down from their last attempted landing, which Ky hoped was enough.

Already, half a legion was on shore, formed up and prepared to counter an attack, should it arise. Not that it seemed to Ky that they’d be surprised. While not exactly the Sahara, the land was flat and lightly covered in trees, allowing his enhanced vision to see well into the distance. Other than some herders and a few huts scattered about, there didn’t seem to be much in the way of hostile soldiers to challenge them this time.

It had been a tough landing, with the lights covered or put out on the ships, and the men forbidden from using torches and lanterns after they landed, but Ky had been adamant in his orders. Even this far from Carthage, Ky didn’t trust that the enemy didn’t have mobile units, waiting to be signaled by scouts spread along the coast. He wanted enough time to get all of his men ashore before they were hit by whatever the Carthaginians had waiting for them.

“How’s it coming?” Ky asked Aelius, whose small command detachment met them as he hopped from the longboat.

“We should have both legions ashore in the next hour,” the legate said.

“Good. Very good. Once they’re ashore, move the men inshore just a little bit, far enough that we can entrench and build a proper defensive position while still close enough for the ships offshore to offer some protective cover. Keep three cohorts on watch, one set up in each direction and have everyone else building a temporary camp. I know wood is at a premium here, so use what the ships unload. We’ll have to waste time digging up the stakes and everything each morning, but in this kind of climate, there’s not much of a choice. We’ll have to set up a rotating schedule where those on the deconstruction detail in the morning get up first, tear down while the rest of the forces march, and then fall in the back of the line and can avoid new defensive work preparations that night. Get with Bomilcar’s aide and work up a schedule that can be given out to the cohort commanders. Also, all legionaries, even those on construction, are to keep rifles with a minimum amount of ammunition on themselves at all times while in Carthaginian territory. I won’t take any chances now that we’re this close.”

“I will see it done, Consul, but ... is this wise?” Aelius asked. “We’re a long march from Carthage. If we stop to build fortifications every night and take them down each day, it will increase our journey by weeks, opening us up to attacks.”

“It’s what we’ll have to deal with. The Carthaginians have made it clear they are willing to throw every person capable of holding a spear at us, and this is their homeland. If you thought we faced problems in Italia, that is nothing compared to being in Africa itself. I will not let our men get whittled down each night by harrying attacks just to save a few days march.”

“It will slow us down more than a few days march,” Aelius pointed out.

“Still, my point stands. We are on the verge of winning this. I have looked at the histories of how they took down Scipio Africanus. I will not fall to the same mistake.”

“As you command, Consul,” Aelius said, and then paused, as if unsure about his next sentence. “I apologize if it seemed like I was questioning your...”

“Think nothing of it,” Ky said, interrupting him. “I want my officers to feel free to offer their thoughts and opinions of my orders, as long as it happens at the appropriate time. I’m not a tyrant.”

“Certainly not,” Aelius said, smiling again. “I’ll see to the disposition of the men.”

“Good man,” Ky said, staring out into the darkness. “Good man.”

It took several hours to get the rest of the legions, along with their equipment, wagons, artillery, cavalry, and horses, and the tools of war off the ships bunched along the coast and onto shore. The men did him proud, moved with a quiet efficiency, unloading supplies and equipment from the ships in the dark with little complaint, and then setting to the task of constructing a temporary fortification for the night, in spite of the late hour and their exhaustion.

Under the guidance of their commanders, they dug trenches and erected wooden palisades around the perimeter. They even used it as a learning experience, with some of the more experienced soldiers demonstrating the proper techniques to their younger comrades, ensuring that the defenses were sturdy and well-constructed. Ky couldn’t help but smile at that. Time may change, but soldiers learning in the field, in the midst of battle, how to be better soldiers from their lower officers and friends was something that never changed.