The Death of Marcellus

by Dan Armstrong

  Marcellus almost smiled. He nodded slowly. He knew I was saying what I genuinely thought, and he agreed with my assessment. “Good. Then you do understand what this is about.”

  CHAPTER 80

  Two days after our return to Rome, Marcellus convened the Senate. Crispinus had already left for Lucania, making Marcellus the princeps senatus. The meeting began with Marcellus’ report from Arretium. He said that the situation was under control for now, but that it would require constant monitoring.

  Fabius had been relieved of his command in Tarentum and had returned to Rome. The Tarentine envoys who had come to Rome to ask leniency had never left, and were now given a second chance to voice their concerns. Lydiades, flanked by two fellow Tarentines, stood at the podium and repeated his case. All the Tarentines wanted was to be treated fairly and to live by their own laws.

  For a second time, this request received strong opposition from many of the Roman senators. Only Fabius spoke in support of the Tarentines. Manius Acilius put forth a decree that would put Tarentum under military rule. Despite Fabius’ protests, the decree was passed.

  A related issue came up immediately after the vote and created an equally heated discussion. Manius called for a public rebuke of the garrison commander in Tarentum at the time of Hannibal’s takeover. Marcus Livius, he claimed, had failed to respond appropriately to Hannibal’s attack. Many of the senators, including Manlius Torquatus, supported this public reprimand.

  Fabius, finding himself increasingly in the minority, spoke in favor of Marcus Livius. “Rather than rebuke this man. Livius should receive accolades for holding onto the citadel as long as he did. I was there. I supervised the siege and eventual recovery of Tarentum. In my opinion, this could not have happened without him. He was as important to this reversal as any man, including myself.”

  As a measure of Fabius’ loss of influence, his words did little to change the sentiments of the majority. Manius’ call for public rebuke was accepted.

  When all other business was completed, Marcellus had one last issue he wanted to address before leaving for Venusia.

  “During my first consulship, when my troops put down the Gaesatae uprising outside Clastidium,” he began, referring to the day he had killed the barbarian king Britomartus, “I promised to build a temple to the gods of Honor and Courage. Due to many factors, including this war with Hannibal, the temple has never been built. Now, thanks to the spoils collected this past summer, the funds are available to proceed with this project. I’d like to have the temple built this year.”

  Licinius, who seemed intent on any barb he could toss at Marcellus, immediately objected. “Despite your honorable intention, Consul, a temple can only be dedicated to a single deity.”

  “And why is that?” asked Marcellus, not nearly as interested in building the temple as he had been at the time of his original offer.

  “If the temple should be struck by lightning or be the subject of some other prodigy, it would be impossible to determine which god to offer the sacrifice. We could not, in good faith, make a single sacrifice to both gods.”

  I could see the color rise in Marcellus’ face. This objection, as with the selection of Sempronia to be a Vestal Virgin, would not do anything to alter the strategy of the war, but it clearly revealed Licinius’ distaste for Marcellus.

  Marcellus had no time for this kind of nonsense. He hoped to be on the road to Venusia as soon as possible. He glared momentarily at the pontifex, then appraised all the men seated before him. “Thank you, Senator. If this is the case, I will simply change my pledge. Instead of a single temple, I will build two. One to Courage and one to Honor. This, I believe, will solve the problem.”

  Licinius made no comment, seemingly satisfied he had adequately piqued his political adversary. The Senate accepted Marcellus’ change, and the matter was done with. Marcellus was free of his consular duties in Rome. He could now focus on recruiting two new cohorts and returning to Venusia.

  CHAPTER 81

  The night before we left for Venusia, Marcellus had a rare evening meal with Portia. I joined them in the triclinium in their house in Rome. Laelia cooked a special dinner, featuring grilled bass caught in the Tiber, boiled eggs from the chickens at the farm, and oysters from the coast. Ithius helped serve.

  Marcellus and I lay on adjacent couches. Portia, whom I still didn’t trust and hadn’t told about my mother, sat in a chair directly across from her husband. The atmosphere always grew tense when they were together. That we all had a cup of mulsum helped. The beginning of the meal passed with nothing said.

  Portia stared at Marcellus long enough for me to notice. Marcellus looked up from his food and saw that she was waiting for his attention.

  “I have spoken to Messalina, Marcellus,” she said. “I told her that Tiberius had promised Sempronia to Marcus. That Licinius knew that and had picked Sempronia to be a Vestal because he had a political grudge against you. I told her the whole story.”

  Marcellus listened with more interest than I would have expected. I held on every word.

  “I told her that Sempronia was four months past fourteen years and that she was too old to be selected as a Vestal. I asked her to reject Sempronia.” Portia glanced at me. “And Messalina said she would.”

  “Does Marcus know of this?” Marcellus asked.

  “No. He left for Venusia before I’d spoken to Messalina.”

  Marcellus nodded, and Portia continued. “Unfortunately, to do this, Messalina must inspect Sempronia and make the judgment that her hymen is broken. ”

  Marcellus tipped his head. “Won’t Licinius want to check that for himself?”

  I thought my heart would stop.

  “Quite possibly, so she’s going to break the hymen with her finger and say Sempronia confessed that it had been her father.”

  Marcellus shook his head slowly in disbelief. “And then we will proceed with the marriage as though nothing happened?”

  “The story will never come out. Tiberius was someone Licinius admired. He won’t want to sully Tiberius’ legacy with a scandal. He will select another girl without another question asked.”

  “And what does Messalina want from you?”

  Portia smiled. “It’s a favor exchanged among women.”

  I immediately thought of the scene at the Stimula Grove. “Is this something I can tell Marcus when I see him?” I asked, knowing she had opened this topic in front of me for a reason.

  “As long as his father agrees with what I have arranged.” She lifted her cup, holding it out before her, and glanced at Marcellus. “Or he wants to tell Marcus himself.”

  “Anything that causes problems for Licinius is fine with me,” said Marcellus. “I will tell Marcus.”

  I looked to both of them. “Doesn’t it make sense to hold off on this until Marcus has a chance to voice his opinion?”

  “We can’t wait, Timon,” said Portia. “The ceremony for the new Vestals takes place next week.”

  PART VI

  THE THIRD CAMPAIGN

  “He indeed who believes that by studying isolated histories he can acquire a fairly just view of history as a whole, is, as it seems to me, much in the case of one, who, after having looked at the dissevered limbs of an animal once alive and beautiful, fancies he has been as good as an eyewitness of the creature itself in all its action and grace.”

  -Polybius, The Rise of the Roman Empire

  CHAPTER 82

  For the first time I rode Balius out of Rome to begin a campaign. Marcellus and I traveled with his twelve lictors and the same contingent of cavalry that had accompanied us to Arretium, plus two new cohorts.

  We arrived in Venusia at midday twelve days later. Marcellus went straight to headquarters. I accompanied him carrying several new maps to add to the existing collection. The legates from the previous campaign, Furius Purpurio and Cornelius Lentulus, greeted Marcellus with a report from Quinctius Crispinus. Asellus, Marcus, and Gaius Flavus joined the group. The allied prefects a
nd their troops were expected the next day.

  “A messenger arrived from Bruttium three days ago,” said Lentulus. “Crispinus took the two legions in Lucania to Locri. Siege equipment and ships from Sicily were waiting there for him. He initiated immediate pressure on the city. This brought Hannibal out of his winter quarters in Metapontum. When Crispinus learned that Hannibal was in Lacinium, headed to Locri, he raised the siege fearing he would be trapped in the toe of the peninsula and unable to join forces with us. He’s marching this way now. He’s requested that the two armies meet east of here in a week.”

  Marcellus went to the table where I had unrolled my most recent map of Italy. After a moment, he said, “Yes, that will work. Did he give any estimates on the size of Hannibal’s army?”

  Purpurio, always dark and grim, stepped up to the table. “A separate report from our scouts puts his numbers at twenty thousand infantry, six thousand horse.”

  Marcellus placed five black markers outside Locri. He looked up at both his legates. “Hannibal will not stay in Locri. If he anticipates the arrival of his brother anytime this summer, he will want to close the distance between the two armies. His most likely path will be along the east edge of the peninsula.” He used his finger to trace a path east from Locri, then north up the coast. “That will bring him through Apulia where we will be waiting with Crispinus. Flaminius’ presence in Tarentum will prevent him from going south when he encounters our four legions. He is more likely to evade us than engage. His only sanctuary will be in Lucania.” He ran his finger west from Apulia. “But like Crispinus, he won’t want to get pinned in the toe of the boot. I’m guessing he will try to slip past us and go north any way he can. Our mission is to prevent that and force an engagement.”

  All of the officers knew this already. Marcus had come from Rome three weeks earlier with an update on the campaign strategy. Hearing it now from Marcellus, especially after the long months of inactivity, filled the tent with excitement. Lentulus and Purpurio were eager for combat and an opportunity to win a name for themselves. Marcellus, of course, now healed, wanted it even more than they did.

  Asellus stepped forward. “What if Hannibal doesn’t come this way? What if he gets word of our position and our numbers? There’s no reason to think he won’t. Why would he dare risk a confrontation with two armies after spending so much time waiting for his brother?”

  Marcellus nodded. “He either comes north or he stays in the south. I would prefer an opportunity to engage him, but short of destroying his army, keeping him in the south makes it all but impossible for his brother to reach him.”

  “If he does remain in or around Locri,” followed Purpurio, “couldn’t we go after him there, pin him in, and force a confrontation?”

  Marcellus agreed. “It’s one option, but I don’t believe he’ll stay in the south. Hannibal’s not one to wait for things to happen.”

  Marcellus looked to each man. All eyes were lit with the prospect of combat. Even doubting Marcus seemed to see the inevitability of what Marcellus forecast.

  “We will head east to meet Crispinus as soon as the allied troops arrive. Prepare your men to leave in two days.”

  As the officers were leaving, Marcellus asked Marcus to stay. All that Portia had arranged with Messalina regarding Sempronia had by now already happened. I guessed that Marcellus wanted to talk to his son about this. I left the men alone and went to check in with my tent unit.

  I sought out Marcus later that afternoon. I found him alone in the horse corral brushing Euroclydon. He glanced over his shoulder when I walked up, but said nothing, and continued brushing his beautiful mare. I sensed his distance immediately and understood that he had come out to the corral to be alone. Ordinarily I would have left him to himself, but if this were about Sempronia, I had to know.

  I stood at the edge of the corral watching him for some time, uncertain how to begin. Before I found the words, he turned abruptly and faced me.

  “I won’t marry her.”

  The comment struck me like a dart. I looked down at the ground.

  “She’s been defiled, Timon,” he said. “How could I?”

  “It was to save her for you. It was the only way.”

  “They should have asked me first. I’ve never even met her. Another woman can be found.”

  “But you’ll never find a woman like Sempronia. She’s a lovely girl and as smart as your mother. Meet her before you make your decision.”

  “Then I would have to say no to her face. No, it’s better this way. I don’t like the scandal or the politics or any of it.” He turned away from me to resume his grooming of Euroclydon.

  “Marcus, meet her first. If you trust me for anything, do that. She won’t have been violated by a man. It’s nothing.”

  He spun on me. “No, it’s not nothing. Man or woman, she’s been violated. Is it nothing that I have also been violated? Should I tell her that? So we could be equals!”

  The words revealed more buried pain than I had suspected. “I don’t think anyone would ever make that connection.”

  “I don’t want the scandal, Timon. If it gets out, and in Rome it will, I’ll become the butt of jokes and gossip for a second time. I won’t have it. There are other women.”

  “But you haven’t seen her. Or talked to her.”

  “Then you marry her if she’s so special. No one else will if this gets out.”

  “You and I both know that could never happen. She’d be better off a Vestal.”

  “And so say I—and would have said long before my mother intruded. She wants the marriage more than I do. It’s about the girl’s family and their wealth and position. I am a soldier. I need none of that.”

  “What did your father say?”

  “He doesn’t know my feelings yet. When he told me, I said nothing. After thinking about it, I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Have you thought about Sempronia’s feelings?”

  “Did anyone think about mine?” he sneered. “Have my father adopt you if she’s so important to you. Then you could marry her.” He laughed in an ugly way and returned to brushing Euroclydon.

  I had hoped to ask Marcus about the groups of pickers that followed the armies, but his anger cut me off. I walked away confused and heart-broken, as though it were my marriage that had been politicized and stained and canceled. Even worse, Sempronia would likely suffer more for this than Marcus and I combined.

  CHAPTER 83

  We met Crispinus and his army in Apulia the following week. We set up camp three miles from Crispinus’ camp in an area of low wooded hills and wide-sprawling valleys, triangulated by Venusia, Numistro, and the village of Bantia. Shortly after our arrival, word came to headquarters that Hannibal and his army were headed north. His course would take him through Apulia east of our camps, just as Marcellus had predicted. Marcellus called for a meeting with Crispinus that afternoon at our headquarters.

  Crispinus came with his two legates, Gnaeus Furius and Marcus Geminus, and one of his prefects, Lucius Aulius. Purpurio, Lentulus, Asellus, Claudius Nero, again commanding troops from Venusia, and Vibellius Rullus, who had replaced Junius Pennus to command the levies from Brundisium, joined the group. Marcus and Gaius Flavus were also there. I was included to take notes and manage the maps.

  Marcellus began the meeting by stating that his intention was to find and destroy Hannibal’s army. He then briefed Crispinus and the other new commanders on Hannibal’s field tactics, concentrating on his use of the Numidian cavalry. “I’m beginning to believe,” he said after recounting our battles at Numistro and Asculum in great detail, “that Hannibal uses his infantry to engage the enemy, seeking little more than a standoff or some particular circumstance that allows Maharbal to improvise on the flanks. According to our scouts, Hannibal is traveling with six thousand horse. Almost twice what we have. A third of them are Numidians.

  “His center will often be flexible. Cannae is the best example. If he places his Gauls there, he will allow them to figh
t in their traditional manner without any kind of order. This can create confusion if they draw us into one-on-one combat. That gives Maharbal a chance to penetrate our flanks. Whatever happens, as I have told my men over and over, our first concern is to maintain order.”

  Crispinus was much younger than Marcellus. This was his first consulship and what would be his first encounter with Hannibal. I had an opportunity to observe him in Rome. He seemed fair and intelligent, but made no other impression on me. Like nearly every Roman general, he had a reputation for ambition and an army of clients who had lobbied to get him his consulship.

  Crispinus’ head was round like a ball. His body was squat and wide. Thick features, brows, lips, nostrils, dominated his face. His hair was always oily and disheveled, as though he had been wearing a helmet. He carried too much weight in his belly and looked better in a toga than his sculpted cuirass. He appeared somewhat intimidated by Marcellus, as almost everyone was when they first encountered him in a briefing. Marcellus seemed to tolerate him.

  “What were your numbers in Asculum?” Crispinus asked.

  “Almost equal,” replied Marcellus. “It was the same in Numistro. We might have had more infantry, but his cavalry has always outnumbered ours.”

  “We have consistently had the better of the hand-to-hand combat,” said Nero to his fellow patrician. “But now we have the capacity to double our numbers. That should make a difference.”

  Marcellus directed the men over to the map table. “Hannibal is coming our way for a couple of reasons. One is accessibility to his brother, if and when he arrives. According to our latest report Hasdrubal is still in Spain, meaning we have no less than two months before we need to worry about him. Hannibal must know this and will make certain he has an option to go north whenever necessary.