Zama

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by Dan Armstrong


  Everyone within hearing range burst out in another raucous cheer. Those farther off knew what the cheer meant and joined in. Starting in close to the flagship and expanding out like a wave, the entire harbor—wharf, ships, and shoreline—swelled with the sounds of jubilation that always accompanied sending a Roman army off to war. Amid this extended cheer, the two priests collected the internal organs from the deck and tossed them into the harbor, followed by the rest of the animal’s carcass and three buckets of sea water to wash the blood from the deck and flush it into the sea.

  Scipio raised his gladius above his head and stroked down through the air. The trumpets blared again. The ships’ captains gave the order to set sail. Five thousand oars dipped into the water and pulled forward as one. A thousand sails unfurled as they were hoisted up the masts, one by one snapping full with a brisk southerly breeze. Slowly, awkwardly, the huge fleet rowed or sailed out of the Lilybaeum harbor into the open sea.

  It must have been an amazing sight from the shore, but from the deck of the flagship, watching the ships gradually maneuver into formation was breathtaking. Midday I moved to the stern of our ship and used the spyglass to scan the sea behind us and watch the ships cutting through the waves, five abreast, in a long curving line as far as I could see. Laelius led the flotilla with a squadron of twenty triremes. Lucius commanded another twenty at the rear. Together, they served as escorts for the four hundred unarmed transports in between.

  I spent most of my time at sea with Laelius, either on deck or in headquarters looking at our map. When on deck, he and I took turns with the spyglass. The ability to see the entire fleet from the stern of our ship gave him tremendous peace of mind. Scipio joined us off and on throughout the day, and repeatedly remarked on the unique power of the spyglass, especially at sea.

  Late in the afternoon of the first day, the breeze trailed off to nothing and fog set in. As agreed upon before leaving Lilybaeum, at night or in fog, each warship would hang one lantern on its mast, the transports two, and the flagship three. By nightfall the fog had reduced our progress to a crawl. As we cut through the dense fog, not a ship in sight, only the faint glow of the lanterns and the steady slap of the oars on the water assured us that we were not alone.

  Scipio paced the deck the entire night, never sleeping, fearful that some horrible mishap would bring an end to his dream. With the rising of the sun came a breeze from the northwest. As the fog gradually dispersed, we saw that the fleet had scattered farther during the night than believed. Through the first part of the day, Laelius frantically counted the ships with the spyglass until the flotilla had regained its original formation.

  By noon we had been out of sight of land for almost a day and a half, and for myself, and surely everyone else, there was a deep, inherent fear of being surrounded by nothing but water. I was so eager to spot land I hardly took the spyglass from my eye.

  The closest stretch of African coastline from Lilybaeum was the peninsula that formed the east arm of the Bay of Tunis, called the Promontory of Mercury, about sixty miles of twisting coastline east of Carthage. Midafternoon I spotted what I was certain was the tip of this peninsula. I immediately told Laelius and gave him the spyglass so I could go aft to inform Scipio.

  Scipio was in headquarters when I found him. He came forward as excited as anyone about the sighting of land. Laelius handed him the spyglass and pointed to a spot on the horizon that showed nothing to the naked eye. Scipio lifted the spyglass and quickly found the tiny nub of darkness that was the Promontory of Mercury. When he lowered the device, greatly pleased, Laelius asked him, “Should we tell the crew? Does it matter that we’ve seen land with the aid of this device?”

  Scipio hesitated. I spoke up. “As far as any of the soldiers know, the spyglass is merely a sighting tool. Nothing of its special nature is evident without actually using it. I suggest we go to the crow’s nest for a better view, and from there announce that land is in sight.”

  Laelius and Scipio both agreed. Wanting to be the one to make the announcement, Scipio ordered the man in the crow’s nest down to the deck, so that he and I could take his place.

  Climbing a mast while at sea can be a harrowing experience. Fortunately the winds had been light and the seas reasonably calm the entire voyage. The ship heeled this way and that, but not like it could, and Scipio and I climbed to the top of the mast with little trouble. Standing side by side on the tiny observation platform above the sail, and holding on for dear life, we took turns with the spyglass.

  “Watch the way the land comes into view, sir,” I said when he raised the spyglass to his eye a second time. “Notice that we are seeing the top of the ridge that forms the promontory first, and then as we get closer, more of the land below comes into view.”

  “Yes, I’m noticing that,” said Scipio without removing the spyglass from his eye.

  “Archimedes said it’s proof that the Earth isn’t flat.”

  He lowered the spyglass from his eye and looked at me. “I’ve heard that certain Greeks have said that, but I’ve never thought that it was true.”

  “Keep watching the land. Clearly we are on a curved surface. The Earth is a sphere.”

  “But isn’t water always a flat surface?”

  “As Archimedes would have said—only if you’re not looking close enough. He proved it to me by pointing out how a ship disappears over the horizon—from bottom to top. It’s the same as what we’re seeing with the land.”

  “And he believed that the Earth was round?”

  “Yes, and that it was moving around the sun, not the reverse. It’s contrary to what our senses tell us, but there are scientists who have proven it by studying charts of the stars and doing the geometry.”

  Still uncertain, Scipio took another long look through the lenses, then turned back to me. “I find it difficult to believe, but I would have said the same of this device had I not seen it for myself.”

  “One night when the sky is clear and the moon is something short of full, the spyglass can show you other reasons to believe this notion. I talked many times with Archimedes about it, and still struggle with what it suggests—and yet I believe he was right.”

  “When time allows, I would like to hear more.” He smiled at me, further impressed by the things I knew. “But we have more pressing matters ahead.”

  “Of course, sir. Let the sailors know we’ve seen land. There could hardly be sweeter news to them now.”

  “Land Ho! ” shouted Scipio, using the spyglass to point to the south.

  Several of the men on deck cheered. Others looked in the direction that Scipio was pointing, but land was not yet visible from the deck.

  We stayed in the crow’s nest for some time. Scipio was entirely fascinated with the view as more and more of Africa became visible. When we finally climbed down and the shoreline was visible from the deck, Scipio took me aside.

  “This spyglass is remarkable, Timon. More than that. The more I use it, the more I appreciate how helpful it could be in warfare. Just imagine being able to see your foe before he can see you. I would love to have this device for myself, but we have spoken of this before. Is there any way to obtain a second one?”

  “The key parts, sir, are the large crystal disk, which is rare but not impossible to obtain—perhaps in Alexandria, and the smaller lens, which Archimedes made himself through months of trial and error. Finding two lenses that perfectly compliment each other would be a long, arduous task, but there are craftsmen who know how to work with glass. Maybe one of them could replicate the pair.”

  “So it’s possible, but difficult.”

  I nodded. “Yes, extremely.”

  After sighting land, Scipio, Laelius, and I went aft for a look at the map. Laelius pointed out the promontory and its relation to Carthage. Though it would add another day of sea travel, Scipio told Laelius he wanted to follow the shoreline further west past Carthage before striking land. Laelius suggested we beach the fleet at Bizerta, where we had landed the previous
year. When Scipio agreed, Laelius stood at the stern to signal the change of course to the rest of the flotilla. Instead of continuing south toward land, we headed west, staying far enough from the coastline that we could not be seen from the shore, except from a substantial elevation—or with a spyglass.

  When I had a moment alone with Scipio in the cabin, I drew a picture for him, showing how the advantage of height gave the man in the crow’s nest a more distant horizon, then how using the spyglass in the crow’s nest added to that distance. Scipio, like Marcus, found the geometry extremely interesting. He had already seen its power in the making of the maps and in the application of optics to the spyglass.

  For a year now, I had steadily earned more and more respect from Scipio. I had also gained more insight into him. I respected the man for his attention to detail and his intellect, but I also understood that he was a manipulator; a man who utilized the remarkably charming side of his personality for one effect when in public, but revealed a much more cynical and self-centered side of himself for another effect when in private. Whether it was his desire to own the spyglass or his punishment of Troglius or his barely contained arrogance, I could never quite reach equilibrium with the man, and an unstated tension always seemed to stress between us. And yet, through the ups and downs of our acquaintance, he stood out as the one man who truly recognized the profound nature of the spyglass and understood that it provided just a small glimpse of the vast potential scientific knowledge prophesied. There was a brave new world looming in the future and he, as well as I, could see it through the spyglass.

  CHAPTER 66

  As we proceeded west, the light breeze that assisted our progress died away to nothing, and again fog settled in around us. As night fell, the conditions became even more dangerous than when we had been farther out at sea. We couldn’t be seen from land, which helped, but neither could we see the land for navigation. We ran the risk of drawing too close to shore and grounding any number of the ships. Laelius gave into caution and the entire flotilla was brought to a halt and anchored.

  Much like the previous day, the wind came up with the sun and the fog dispersed, revealing that we were much closer to land than we had thought. Concerned that the fog would come up again in the afternoon, we headed to shore and landed at Cape Farina a few miles east of Bizerta. This put us about thirty-five miles of twisting coastline from Carthage—twenty miles as the crow flies, and less than ten miles from Utica, the other large Carthaginian city on the coast, and the oldest of the Phoenician colonies. The region inland was mostly used for growing grains and was tended by the local Libyans as tenant farmers for their Carthaginian landlords. The local villages were small and had little or no protection, meaning they were ripe for raiding and securing fresh provisions.

  The arrival of more than four hundred ships could not be disguised in any way and rapidly brought the nearby coastal villages to life. At first large groups of the tribal Libyans came to the shoreline to watch, then as they realized that forty warships were mixed in with the transports and private merchant ships, they ran off to spread the word that the Roman invasion had begun, prompting a mass evacuation of the area. By the time we had beached our ships and begun the process of building a camp, we had to assume that news of our arrival had reached Utica and would be communicated to Carthage by the next day.

  Scipio was all business from the moment we arrived. He sent out scouts in all directions to get a reading of the area. The following morning he assembled five raiding parties to establish strategic outposts and scavenge the countryside for food and booty. By the end of our second full day there, ten transports had been filled with plunder. They left for Sicily the following morning.

  Scipio’s first major objective was to besiege Utica and make it his winter camp. The day the transports left for Sicily, he dispatched a single legion to Utica to establish a position in the hills that overlooked the city. The following day he sent Laelius down the coast with thirty warships to occupy the harbor.

  Carthage by this time was in a frenzy. All able-bodied men were pressed into service and armed. Large stores of grain and other necessities were stockpiled within the city walls, which were then sealed up tight as though Scipio could appear at the gates at any moment. Hasdrubal Gisgo, serving a second term as a sufet, and also one of Carthage’s most experienced generals, sent a unit of five hundred cavalry to Cape Farina to assess the Roman camp.

  The Carthaginians encountered our outposts long before reaching the camp. They engaged our cavalry and were quickly out-flanked and dispersed. More than half of the Carthaginians were killed. Another hundred were taken prisoner. Scipio’s campaign was off to an auspicious start.

  CHAPTER 67

  Three days after the encounter with the Carthaginian cavalry, Masinissa arrived at our camp with one thousand Numidians on horseback. Scipio could not have been more pleased. He met Masinissa out front of our camp, then ordered a guard to find water and fodder for the horses. Scipio escorted Masinissa to headquarters accompanied by Lucius and Cato, both in full armor. I was there working on the map of North Africa when they entered.

  Masinissa burst into the tent like a dust devil off the African plains with his long white robe swirling about his feet. A dark blue mantle was wrapped around his head and shoulders, providing a frame for his startling green eyes and disarming smile. He recognized me immediately and strode across the tent to embrace me. “My friend, Timon, I have so looked forward to seeing you again.”

  Masinissa saw what I was working on and advanced to the edge of the table. “You’ve upgraded your map.” He studied it briefly, looked up at me, then turned to Scipio. “This man is an artist with a compass and a straight edge. How fortunate you are to have him.”

  He spoke in Greek. Only Scipio and I understood. Cato, who had railed against the “effeminate” Greek culture for years, demanded that we speak in Latin.

  I bowed my head as I translated Masinissa’s compliment. Scipio smiled. He already knew how valuable I was and echoed Masinissa’s sentiments.

  “What took you so long to get here, General?” Masinissa was as handsome and confident as Scipio and spoke to the Roman general as an equal. “We have been ready for nearly six months.”

  Scipio, who wore a toga, enjoyed the man’s boldness. “We wanted to give you more time to increase your numbers. We could use twice as many men as I saw in front of the camp just now.”

  Masinissa laughed, then became serious. “You will have more cavalry in due time, my friend. But first I need assurance that you’ll help me regain my kingdom in exchange for my helping you defeat the Carthaginians.”

  “You have it,” stated Scipio. “With Syphax now fully in the Carthaginian camp, any Roman victory in Africa must be accompanied by the defeat of your usurper. Your kingdom as well as his will be yours should things go as I expect.”

  “Then consider the men I brought today yours. More will be drawn in by our victories.” He grinned at Scipio. “Have you a plan?”

  Scipio laughed at his bravado. “Of course, I do.”

  “Be careful, General,” interrupted Cato. “Is it wise to tell this man what our intentions are? One barbarian has already reversed his promises to you.”

  Scipio, two years older than Cato and all too aware that he was a protégé of Quintus Fabius, snapped at him in Latin. “I have every faith in this man, Quaestor. And in no way would I call him a barbarian. He’s better educated than you are.”

  Cato, as stubborn and arrogant as anyone, glared back at Scipio, but said nothing.

  “Our first objective, Masinissa,” said Scipio, “is to besiege Utica. I would like to use it as our winter quarters.”

  Masinissa nodded as though thinking through the logic.

  “We have five thousand infantry positioned in the hills overlooking the walls as I speak, and thirty of my warships are in Utica’s harbor. What can you tell me about the readiness of the Carthaginians?”

  “Hasdrubal Gisgo is in charge of all military ope
rations. He is scrambling now to assemble an army of Carthaginian citizens and Libyans. I’m sure he’s already reached out to Syphax. Syphax’s army will be large but untrained. Siga is a long march from here. It will be weeks before Syphax can join forces with Hasdrubal. You’ll have to take Utica before they arrive.”

  “That would be nice, but it seems unlikely. Is there anything that you need from me?”

  Masinissa grinned. “Your word on our agreement and a place for my men to camp.”

  Cato stepped forward. “Get it in writing, General.”

  Scipio turned to Lucius then the Numidian prince. “Should we make it formal, Masinissa?”

  Masinissa frowned. “Only your hand is necessary, General. A man’s word should need no documents to substantiate it.”

  Scipio extended his hand. “Give us your full support, Masinissa, and you will have our assistance in regaining your kingdom.”

  Masinissa gripped Scipio’s hand. “Agreed.”

  “Tell your men they can camp on the south side of our camp. Take any water or fodder you need from our supplies.” Scipio looked him in the eye. “And you will be expected to follow my command.”

  Masinissa smiled. “It will be an honor, General.”

  Before leaving headquarters, Masinissa asked me to come to his camp that night. I was as happy to see him as Scipio was, and following the evening meal, I went to the Numidian camp. With no trenches dug around it and no palisades, I entered the haphazard array of canvas tents with no resistance. I recognized one of the men I had met the previous year and asked him where I could find Masinissa. He pointed to a large campfire surrounded by twenty or so seated men. Masinissa stood up as soon as he saw me and again greeted me like an old friend.

  Masinissa suggested we walk. We wandered down to the beach and followed the waterline where the sand was still wet from the receding tide. A three-quarter moon sat low in the sky over the ocean to the east. A band of moonlight lay across the water’s surface, riding the waves like a wide silk ribbon.

 

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