Section 9 of The Lion's Brood This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Shashank Jagmola The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborne Home The Appian Wave was still safe, even from the chance of Numidian Foray and it was along its lava paved level that the long convoy of sick and wounded right, slowly northward that afternoon. Half reclining in the root chariot, each jolt of which brought agony to his injured shoulder, Sirgius watched, with far deeper pain than that of body, the last troop of Allied horse winding up the pass towards Aliphay, the rear guard of Rome's line of march. Then he fell to brooding upon his fate, while the night followed the day and the day the night and still the dreary, groaning caravan dragged on, resting only during the heated hours. On, over the Lyris, at Mintournai, upward over the mountain behind Tarakina and descending again into the Pontine Plain through the shady groves of Aresian Elix that crowned the Alban Hills down to Beauvile and then away across the Campagna to Rome. A marvel of deep cuttings through the hills, a marvel of giant superstructures over valleys, the Appian, the Queen of Ways. There were long green ridges now, swelling from the plain and breaking away into little rocky cliffs, tufted with wild victories. Sluggish streams wound down from the east where, far away, loomed the snow-tipped summits of Abenine, while towards the west the sky reflected a brighter light from the sea that glittered beneath it.   And now wounds and sickness were, for the moment, forgotten as man pointed out to man this and that landmark of home. Temples on this hill and on that, Diana on the Aventine, the hill of the people, Jupiter's stator on the Palantine, the grim mass of the citadel above the rock of Tarpeia, the great Quadriga that surmounted the greatest vein of all, the house of Capitoline Jove. To the right of these were the clustered oaks of the Cayleyan Mount. While farthest away, but highest of all, the white banner fluttering from the heights of Janiculum told them that the city was still safe, still unassailed. They were passing where the road was bordered by its houses of the dead, tombs of the great families above which the funerals Cypresses bent their heads and shed peace and shade alike over the dead and the living. The hum of the city came to their ears and, as the convoy drew nearer to the Capinian Gate, the throng pouring out to meet them grew thicker and more dense, blocking the way until the cavalry of the escort cleared it with their spear butts. Then the press divided, running along on both sides of the carriages in two fast-filling streams whose murmurs swelled into a very torrent's roar of questions and prayers for news of the general and the army. Was Hannibal beaten? Had he been slain? Or was he waiting in chains to grace the Fabian triumph? Was it true that he measured twice the height of common men and that a single eye-blaced cyclops likened the middle of his forehead? How many elephants would be seen in the triumph? Search and a hundred queries, equally wild, assailed the escort and the occupants of the wagons. For this was the rabble, poor citizens, freedmen, slaves, for whom no story of Hannibal and the Carthage was too improbable. Nevertheless, Sergius imagined he could discern a spirit of irony underlying much that he heard. When they had reached the low eminence that, crowned by the temple of Mass, faced the city gate, he bade the attendants help him descend from the army carriage that he might wait the coming of his slaves with a litter. A messenger was soon found carried off, charged with necessary directions. The crowd had rolled on through the gate, together with the convoy and the sick man was left alone safe for the attendants of the temple in whose care he had placed himself.  Now it was only necessary to reach his home and rest. Last of his race, but for two older sisters who had married several years since, the spacious mansion of the family of Fidenas was his alone, with its slaves and its ancestral masks and its school courts and its outlook over the seething forum up to the opposite heights of the capital. There he would find care and comfort for the body, if not for the soul. And now the pattern of running feet sounded from the pavement below. They were come, at last, with the litter and Sargis, entering it, was born swiftly through the gate on between the tall houses that backed up against the hills turning soon to the left into the new way. On, past the altar of Hercules in the cattle market, passed the temple of Vesta along the commissia and into the sacred way by the front of the Curia. Thence, they swung westward to the Roman gate, the gate in the ancient wall that fenced the Palatine alone, a stately entrance, now to the residence portion of the city most favoured by the great families. Nearby stood the house that marked the ending of the journey, bustling with its slaves and bright with a hundred lamps, while the physician, an old freed man of the tribune's father, stood upon the threshold to greet and care for his late master's son. Gravely shaking his head at the discouraging aspect of the invalid and muttering in Greek, for he was born in Rhodes, he led the way back to the great hall between the Peristyle and the Garden. Here, master, he said, I have caused your couch to be late, at the moment I learned of your arrival and condition. You observe, the air and light will be better than in your apartment and the space better calculated for those whose duty it shall be to minister to you until the divine, Esculapius and Apollo self-unite have found success to my efforts. It is well, Agathisals said Sargis verily, and I thank you. His voice seemed to die away with the last words and a sort of stupor fell over him. Agathisals watched him closely as he lay upon the couch, noted the heavy breathing and drew his brows together with the deep frown. Behind him, a group of the household slaves whispered together and cast frightened glances now at their master now at the disciple of the healing art. For Sargis had been brought up among them and the terms of their service were neither heavy nor harsh. Then the surgeon said to work examining the shoulder, nodding his head to observe that the bone had been replaced in its socket, but vexing troubled again over the inflammation and swelling that told the story of torn tendons and blood vessels too long neglected and of the hardships of the journey. Slaves were sent scutting in this direction and that to compound lotions and spread poultices, while Agathisals himself proceeded to the ostentatious mixing of some cooling draught calculated toward of, if possible, the fever that was already claiming its sway. End of section number nine. The many weeks of hovering between life and death that followed these days were a dense blank to Sargis. First there was his injury more serious than he had imagined and the fever that had followed it complicated again by the malaria of the marshes through which he had journeyed in so vulnerable a plight. Then came other weeks of such lassitude that he had neither power nor desire to learn of the world to which he felt himself slowly returning, as did Anais from the realms of Pluto. There were times when he had been vaguely conscious of whisperings around his couch upon subjects that should have interested him and did not. Was it his fault or had everything commonplace and of no account? At last there came a time of convalescence. His haggard face frightened him when he looked at it in the bronze mirror, but the air of the winter was fresh and keen, bringing health and life to the mind, if not entirely to the body. So lying one day in the entrance hall and gazing out over the forum below, he turned to a gothiclyse who sat close by. And now you shall tell me, of the things that have happened while I have lain here, helpless as a bag of corn in the granary and of even less importance. You mistake, my master, replied the physician quickly. Surely you must know that your condition has been a matter of deep anxiety to many, both within and without your walls. Within, perhaps, yes, said Sergius slowly. I treat them well, and such of them as do not get them by my will would doubtless find harder masters in saboness and camarinas. My sister's husbands are patricians of the old school. As for without, am I not a man useless in times of action, well nigh disgraced? A gothiclyse hastened to interrupt. Oh, my master, you do not know. Could you but see the crowd of clients who have gathered at your door each morning, waiting for it to creak upon the pivots, later in the day such of your friends as were not away with the army. Aye, he continued with a sharp glance at the invalid and a pretty female slave who has come at each nightfall and has questioned the doorkeeper. A strong desire to hear of two things had come into Sergius's mind while the physician was speaking. He must learn about this female slave who had inquired so assiduously, and he must hear of the army, the war, the republic, for these last three were really but one. After something of an effort and without a certain sentiment of self-approval, he said, let me hear of friends later, my gothiclyse, tell me now of the war. There was a troubled expression in the physician's eyes, but he answered volubly. It progresses famously in Spain, my master. Oh, aye, famously. Their fleet has been swept from the seas and Scipio slays and drives them as he wills. Doubtless by now they are all back in Africa, not of Spain. Interrupted Sergius as the narrator caught his breath, tell me of Italy, of Hannibal and Fabius.  They say Hannibal is in winter quarters in Geronium, and the consuls watch him. Began a gothiclyse in more subdued tones. Tell me of Fabius. Tell me of what has happened. Well, do you hear? cried Sergius, raising himself impatiently on one elbow. If your story seems to lack coherence and truth I swear to you that I will go down into the form at once and learn what I wish. Thus adjure the physician answered, but with evident reluctance. Truly, my master, all things have not been as we might wish, and yet they could easily have run worse when your dictator let the invaders out of Campania. There was much complaint among the people that he was protracting the war for his own advantage. But when he came to Rome for the sacrifices and left Minucius in command, with orders not to engage, and when the master of the horse, as some say, evading the orders, fought and gained an advantage, then you may believe me the city was in turmoil, nor were there wanting friends of Minucius. An emissaries from his camp found his praises as a general and decry the dictator and his policy, not to say his courage and his honesty. I warrant, said Sergius gloomily, that every Pothouse politician from the Etruscan street was declaiming on how much better he could command than could Quintus Fabius. Until at last, went on Agathocles, Marcus Matilius, the tribune, a corrupt nave, broken Sergius.  Surely, and saying that it was intolerable for Minucius, who was the only man who could fight to be put under guard lest he beat the enemy, intolerable that the territory of the allies should have been given up to Ravage while the dictator protected his own farm with the legions of the Republic and finally proposing, as a most moderate measure, that Minucius the victor should be given equal command over the army with Fabius the laggard, unprecedented impotence, murmured Sergius. And what said the dictator? He did not trouble to go near the Cromicia, and even in the Senate they did not like to hear his praises of Hannibal and his troops or listen favorably when he spoke doubtfully concerning the magnitude of Minucius's victory and claimed that even were it all true, the master of the horse should be called to account for his insubordination. So, after he had lauded prudence and supported his own policy and after Marcus Attilius Regulus was elected consul, the dictator departed for the army in the night and left them to do as they pleased. They passed the law, as Sergius bitterly. They hung in doubt for some time, went on Agatha Glees, for, though many favored, few were disposed to advance such a measure until Caius Terentius Faro, who was prey to her last year. The butcher's son, commented Sergius, you know, my Agatha Glees, how demagogues and tyrants crushed out the life of your Hellas, we have yet to see the same ruin fall upon Rome and from the same cause.  Flaminius lost one army, Menucius will doubtless lose another. While Miletus and Varro are well able to lose whatever may remain. Why did you not let me finish my journey to Etcheron? This is no city for men whose fathers were able to teach them about war and honor. He whose tongue is most ready to lie about the noble and the rich is counted on to wield the sword best against an enemy. Well, speak on, and what happened next? As you say, continued the physician, the measure was passed, but when Menucius desired that he and the dictator should command on alternate days Fabius would only consent to a division of the army. Exclaimed Sergius, two legions apiece! That must have been rare sport for Hannibal. Truly, yes, but it resulted well, bore to shorten the tale the Carthaginian trap Menucius through his rashness, and was about to cut him to pieces when the dictator, who had foreseen all this, came up and saved what was left whereupon the master of the horse marched to the general's camp and, saviour, surrendered his equal command. After having directed his soldiers also to greet the others as patrons, the hat at least was well done, said Sergius nodding. Worthy of a man better born than Menucius, I do him honour for learning from experience, Matilius Servaro could not have done it.  The time of their appointments expiring and the army is in winter quarters under the consuls. Servilius and Matilius, truly, and the elections, are falling due. Who sue for their consulship? Echaothicles hesitated and placed his fingers upon the patient's pulse. I have told you enough for the day. Who are the candidates? reiterated Sergius leaning forward impatiently. They say that Varro began Echaothicles, but the tribune had sprung to his feet, then as he swayed a moment from weakness leaning back against the couch he raised both hands and cried out, Have they gone mad? The butcher's son, the bearer of his father's wares to command against Hannibal?  They will learn their error only we must pay the price together with a rabble that owe it. Cards! Was not the lesson of Flaminius enough for these drinkers of vinegar water? This will be great news for them in the Magalia. Then, seeming to gain strength from his excitement he strode up and down the atrium while the physician watched him anxiously but without venturing to interfere. It was the doorkeeper's attendant that broke in upon the scene for a moment in doubt as his eyes followed his master's rapid strides. Finally approaching the gothiclys he plucked him by the sleeve and whispered, The woman desires to know the health of my lord. Before the physician could answer Sergius had caught the words and, wheeling about, faced the boy. What woman and where? he asked. The gray stole.  And he threw himself down upon the deeply cushioned seat of a marble chair. A gothicly stood at his elbow with an expression of anxiety on his face. And in a moment more the girl entered. Muffled almost to the eyes she glided forward in the voice that addressed him was soft and musical.  You have been here often, began Sergius, and I wish to see you and bid you bear my thanks to her who sent you. Slowly the stole dropped from the eyes. Very pretty eyes that, joined with an equally pretty mouth, took on an expression of hurt astonishment. That sent me, she murmured half sadly, ah, well doubtless it is a matter of insolence for a poor slave girl to wish and ask concerning the health of the noble Sergius. The tribune watched her closely and with mingled feelings. He had settled in his mind from the moment of a gothicly's mention of the fact that the slave woman who called must have been sent by Marsha and it was not without a paying a very poignant regret that he relinquished the idea that he could not place this girl in the notice of a Roman of rank. It was not strange and yet the face seemed vaguely familiar to him and it was certainly little short of beautiful. A man flouted or still worse ignored by a mistress at whose shrine he has worshipped might well be pardoned a feeling of satisfaction that his well-being was a matter of interest to at least one pretty woman. Meanwhile the girl stood before him her arms hanging by her sides seriously cast down and her whole attitude indicative of detected audacity and submissive despair. A gothicly's had transferred his attention from his patient to the visitor and his scrutiny seemed to trouble her. So it was yourself alone who desired to learn of my welfare said Sergius with a faint smile believe me my girl no Roman is too noble to value the interest of beauty like yours. There was just the suspicion of a laugh in the downcast eyes but it sped away as swiftly as it came and she made haste to answer. Truly my lord does not measure his own worth there are many as much above me in beauty as they are in rank many who cannot venture to show the concern they doubtless feel. What has a poor slave girl to do with maidenly modesty the plaything of any master who chooses to smile upon her for a moment. She spoke bitterly and Sergius half frowning half smiling reached out his hand. The contrast between this girl's frankly spoken interest and the courted Marsh's trivial indifference came to him more powerfully.  She had taken the hand he held out and now suddenly he drew her to him and kissed her. Then he found occasion to marvel over the strange ways of women as if awakened from a dream or a part in a comedy to some instant and frightful peril. She wrenched herself from him and wrapping her cloak around her face turned and ran like a deer through the hallway and out into the street. Sergius was dazed for a moment by the suddenness of it all then he rose. Quick smearness! he called to the boy who attended on the porter and she goes. The delay had been short and smearness was swift afoot but when he reached the street it was empty as far as he could see and a dash to each corner of the house gave no better results. Inquiries likewise were unavailing and he returned slowly and with shoulders that already seemed to tingle under the expected rods. Meanwhile a gothic lease had assayed to exert his authority over the prudence. Sergius was an excellent humor despite the escape of his conquest. Nonsense my gothic lease he began half-guiltily at first but gaining confidence as he persuaded his justification. Do you not see all this has done me more good than a score of days spent in dull reclining with only nauseous drafts to mark the hours by? I have learned that I am a man again with an interest in the Republic itself. Surely such knowledge is worth a little risk. Tomorrow mark you at the God's favor me. I shall descend into the forum and see if nothing is to be affected against this rabble in the matter of the elections. Had she not magnificent eyes my gothic lease, not those of the dull ox as your Homer puts it, but rather of the startled fawn. They seem to me more of the fox, said the physician dryly, being golden in color and very cunning, I doubt you fathomed her smile, though wherefore she should seek sacrilege at gothic lease, cried Sergius Gailey. But here comes smearness. Well, boy, where is the lair of this fox of our good gothic lease? The terrified boy had thrown himself upon his face. I hastened with all speed, master," he protested. At your word I flew, but she was gone as if a god had snatched her up, nor was there a passer by who had seen ought. Sergius was frowning ominously, then his face cleared. Doubtless that was it, smearness," he said. Your judicious piety is quicker than your heels in saving your back. If a god took her he showed excellent taste, and it would be utter sacrilege to punish you for failing to learn her whereabouts. Come, agothic lease, be not so gloomy. Do you think it is Esculapius who has come to your aid? He at least is no spruce young rival. Be conciliatory, or I may perhaps venture to try my fortune even against. I am rather the opinion that some cunning Hermes has tricked Eros and Esculapius, and my Lord Lucius as well," said the physician, an expression of grim humor lurked in his face, and Sergius felt strangely uncomfortable. What is a physician if he talk not in the language of oracles? he said, queerlessly. Well, you may send me to my couch if you will, but mark you, to-morrow I go to the forum. End of section 10. Recording by Keith Salas Section 11 of The Lion's Brood. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org Recording by Tom Mack Tucson, Arizona The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborn Section 11 Politics On the following day Sergius true to his purpose ordered his litter to be brought and reclining as his weakness compelled, was born down into the forum crowded with its mass of turbulent and perspiring humanity. Nor was the temper of the rabble doubtful. On every side he heard arrangements of Fabius and through him all men guilty of good birth or riches. Under every portico speakers were pouring forth harangues whose ignorance was only matched by their coarseness and surpassed by their reckless malevolence. Once he bade his bearers set him down near where one Quantus Habeus Heranus, a plebeian tribune and a relative of Varos, was holding forth to a sympathetic crowd. Do you not know ye foolish Romans? cried the orator, alternately slapping his thigh waving his arms and casting up his eyes that this Hannibal was brought into Italy by these very nobles who are always desiring war? Can you not see how they are protracting the war when you consider that one man of the people our own Minicus when he committed the four legions was sufficient for the enemy? Behold how this traitorous this noble Fabian schemed to expose the brave Minicus and two legions of the people to destruction and only rescued the remnant that he might pose as their saviour and be saluted father and patron. There indeed our Minicus was at fault as what honest poor man is not when confronted by the wiles of those bred to craft and trickery. See too how the consuls have followed the same delitory measures and can you doubt that it is all with these traitor nobles? Know well now that this war will have no ending until a man of the people ends it. A real plebeian a new man. See you not that both consuls by terrying with the army have set up an interregnum that the wicked nobles may better influence your choice but if you be true Romans such as those who camped upon the sacred hill you will remember that one consulship at least is yours by law and you will elect a man to fill it one who is of yourselves and who will spurn the rich as they now seek to spurn you and me and all good men. Serges had listened to this harangue and to the applause which greeted it with mingled feelings of indignation and sorrow sentiments to which was added to his prize when he noted through the closed curtains of his litter that several patricians passed by and smiled and nodded to the speaker while he poured forth his diatribes. Now however a new commotion seemed to agitate the throng who turning suddenly ran palmel in one direction almost overturning the litter a catastrophe from which it was only saved by a vigorous use of the bearer's on the heads of the nearest. Serges thrust aside the curtains and half raised himself to see the cause of the disturbance the brightly fullered gown of a candidate flashed before his eyes and he recognized Varo standing upon a silversmith's counter smiling this way and that rasping the hands of those nearest kissing his own to the very outskirts of the mob and all the while crying out the promptings of his nomenclator greetings to you Marcus health Quintus commend me to your brother my chaos and yes to be sure when he shall return from the army ah friends when I am consul there will be a hasty returning from such foolish wars you shall see the African fork bearers winding through the forum and that is the first word of truth I have heard from you Varo or from your Heranias here cried Serges who had risen and now stood pale and gaunt beside his litter with you and such as you to command we may well look to see the African fork bearers winding through the forum yes and pillaging amid its ruins a roar of vituperation drowned whatever answer the candidate might have made as with brandished clubs, cleavers, knives styli any weapon that could be snatched up from the booths the nearest scorer of the crowd made a dash at the presumptuous noble the litter bearers were sturdy fellows and their staves were stout but the contest was far too unequal one had gone down with a deep gash in the shoulder and the others were quickly forced back upon their master Serges stood with his back to one of the square pillars of Pepparino with folded arms and pale face upon which hovered a smile of ineffable scorn he recognized his peril the fate that had befallen many noble Romans in the election riots of the republic but his sentiment was rather one of indifference than of perturbation and he was about to order his slaves to give up their hopeless defense in order that the crowd might let them at least go without further hurt when an entirely unexpected diversion brought him relief and safety, Varro had viewed the attack upon his critic with a pleasure that he scarcely tried to conceal he kept begging his adherents to be moderate and abstain from violence but in so low a voice that his consuls could not be heard except by those immediately around him and they were entirely inaudible to the howling of silence to whom they were presumably addressed another voice however a shrill female voice came suddenly to Sergius ears would that my brother could come to life and command another fleet that the streets might be less crowded Sergius recognized in a rich litter that was tossed hither and thither by the billows of the mob the sister of Publius Claudius who had lost for Rome the naval battle off de Prenum the mob too recognized her and the scornful speech bit deeply all around rose a cry of to the ideals with her to the ideals she has rejoiced in the death of our brothers may the gods curse the noble and in a moment Sergius found himself alone but for his bruised and bleeding servants while the tide of riot swept up the forum bearing the litter upon its tossing crests and the varago within contained to scream out her defiance and contempt Varro remained surrounded by a few friends and as Sergius approached he drew himself up as to reinforce his courage with a sense of importance the tribune was about to pass him without a word but the demagogue emboldened by this seeming unwillingness for an encounter placed himself in his path do you hear the kindly wishes that the great express for the health of their poor countrymen he began tauntingly it is like your kind Varro replied Sergius speaking slowly and in tones of profound contempt to attribute to our party any intemperance of a single opponent but do you also credit us with the virtues of individuals I might with better grace attribute the murderous attack just made and with your connivance upon myself to the party of the people that I do not do you may lay to a moderation and magnanimity that are not learned in the tradesmen's booth or the butcher's shambles Varro flushed crimson and he looked from side to side as if to call upon his friends for new violence but a company of young patricians were descending from the Cometa and his fellows were dull of comprehension do you beware though Varro continued Sergius lest in striving to attain power and place on the wings of colony against those better than yourself or by the suggestion of false grievances to those who are ignorant and weak you may by these things incite one riot too many beware above all things lest you win then drawing his toga close as if to avoid a contaminating touch he strode by to join the approaching band of young men leaving his opponent vicious to snarl to bite after the usual greetings concerning his health they walked on together toward the curtain pool and Sergius thoughts took on a deeper color from the despondent speech of his friends that Varro would receive the votes of the centuries beyond all doubt was unanimously conceded and so great was the dissatisfaction with Fabius that their regret seemed only for the manner of the popular victory and the man who was to gain it a few hot heads dropped hints to the effect that it might become necessary to reorganize the patrician clubs and meet violence with violence in which event there could be but little doubt as to the result but the sentiment of the majority was adverse to such measures and they viewed the possibilities with an indifference that to Sergius seemed even more ominous than the frenzy of the rabble and the worthlessness of its leaders his attempts to defend the Fabian policy speaking as one of its victims were hopelessly thrown away all Rome was mad for battle even at the cost of sending the butcher's son to command the legions and two days later the result of low chicanery and different lethargy took shape the trumpet had summoned the army of the city to the field of Mars and century after century had entered the enclosure to cast its vote for Varro for Varro alone until no one of the noble candidates who received the half hearted support of their fellows got even enough pebbles to be proclaimed elected to the second consulship to Varro alone Cringian insolent was the oath administered for Varro alone was the prayer put up for Varro was the declaration twice made according to the laws of the republic and into Varro's hands was placed the presidency over the assembly that was to elect his colleague then followed an exhibition of the Fabian cunning there were among the supporters of the consul Varro had recognized what he himself could not his military incompetence and the terrible necessity that at such a juncture there should be at least one soldier consul Varro had won on his merits as self announced on the strength of his own arraignment of his adversaries shortcomings he stood forth the inclination of party and class hatred and now the victors seized by the very completeness of their triumph paused in mid-career to look for a soldier with whom the army might be entrusted that he must be a noble with self evident even the rabble now that its first outburst had passed was not so mad as to attribute military skill to any of its wordy leaders the butcher's colleague must be a patrician but he must be such a patrician as would cast reproach upon his class while he supplied the one quality requisite to the plebeian situation to whose political acumen first occurred the name of Lucius Emilius Paulus no one seemed to know but once suggested there was none to deny its entire appropriateness Paulus was a veteran of several wars and experienced commander a brave soldier and there his merits ended he had been brought to trial for misappropriation of the plunder taken in the Irelian campaign and as many thought acquitted by means as scandalous as the crime itself while his less influential colleague suffered for both harsh and rude no high-born Roman was less popular and his exaggeration of class insolence bade fair to offer him as an illustration of every demagogue of what the people must always expect from patrician rule so one by one the five noble opponents of Varro were rejected and the word went out that of their enemies the people would have Paulus and him alone end of section 11 recording by Tom Mack for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Rutherford Osborn The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborn section 12 Brawlings more sick at heart as he grew stronger in body Sergius returned from the final voting in the field of Mars for some reason the popular party sated with triumph had permitted the election as praetors of good men who had experience in military affairs perhaps that these might together with Paulus make sure the victory that was to redound to the honor of the darling of the mob and proclaim to all the Roman world the superiority of the butcher Varro over Fabius the well-fathered as Sergius was born along toward the Palatine District he found the streets crowded with a populace he had hardly known to exist in the city down from the lofty tenements of the icus up from the slums of the subura the gate of the three folds and the Etruscan street they poured drunk with joy a patriot of all men who wore white togas and had money to lend or lands to till at each corner a denser throng was gathered around jugglers tumblers, wrestlers that writhed over the roadway actors who danced at Truscan pantomimes and carried their makeup and little bags slung around their necks singers of medleys and would-be popular poets crowded course epigrams and reballed satires leveled at the thieving the effeminate the adulterous patricians who thought to rule Rome and had named an Amelius Paulus to stand beside and check the generous the fearless the incorruptible Varro threatening looks and words were cast at Sergius and the company of freedmen surrounded him until he was not ill pleased to see the escort of another noble issue from a side street and beat its way to where the exhausted bearers had set down the tribunes litter pausing to gain breath before attempting to push on further when however he recognized in the sturdy old man who strode along in the midst of the new company no more distant acquaintance than the father of Marcia he was conscious of a strong revulsion better the continued buffeting with an obstreperous mob than the embarrassments he foresaw in such a recontre but it was too late to avoid it the interests and perils of the two parties were too nearly identical and he heard the gruff voice of his old friend crying out back, exercises of the whip back, colonizers of chains to the cross with you all is this anemula or Rome where rude clowns do not recognize their betters than for the first time perceiving Sergius greeting to you my Lucius may the gods favor you better than they have the Republic this day at that moment a big hulking fellow thrust himself forward in the path of the advancing patrician and hiccoffed out may you meet with a plague master truly there are to be no betters or worsers in Rome now that the noble Varro is council-end the staff of Torquatus felled him to the ground where he lay shuttering and drawing up his legs while a yell of rage and menace broke from the crowd scarcely changing a line in his grim face the old man calmly trusts the folds of his toga about his left arm freed his right more fully and drew a stylus of such size as to suggest a dagger much more than an instrument for writing such a weapon as was born of the election brawls of earlier days innocent under the law yet equally efficient as pen or sword daunted at his aspect the foremost assailants held back are there not more vinegar drinkers that wish to learn from an old Roman the manners of old Rome asked Torquatus sneeringly how the fight once begun would have ended seemed hardly uncertain for the crowd filled all the neighboring streets half were drunk and nearly half were provided with arms of some sort many of such as were warranted by no pretext of law save the knowledge that Varro was counsel and the belief that he would protect his adherence in whatever breach might please them the dangerous front of Torquatus and his company might have sufficed to check those who would have to lead a rush but they unfortunately had the least to say on the subject of giving battle already the mobs pouring in from the side streets at the first scent of a brawl were pushing the forlorn hope all unwilling to its fate three or four had already gone down with broken heads and a freed man of Torquatus had been stabbed in the side when of the tumult rose a voice crying make way for the counsel Paulus way the matter truly was becoming serious thought the outskirts of the mob all of them who could hear the shout a brush with the fiercest the most hated the most hating aristocrat that had been born behind the facies for many a year would mean punishment with heavy hand the pressure was at once relieved and though those in front saw no sign of counsel or lictor saw only Sergius who had descended from his litter and was leading his company in a vigorous attack yet they were for the most part only too glad to escape from the glaring eyes of Titus Manlius and the broad sweep of his weapon the old man was puffing hard from the unwanted exertion when Sergius reached his side through the fast scattering assailants the gods have punished my blasphemy with kindness began Torquatus in sending my lord Paulus in such timely fashion say rather my father in sending his name into the mind of one Lucius Sergius said Sergius laughing for a moment the other frowned with a puzzled look then his face cleared with as close an approach to a smile as it could wear and our rescue is not due to the counsel then he asked still slow to fully grasp the ruse to the counsel's name and to the favoring cunning of Mercury said Sergius bowing truly you should command Torquatus a general so ready and craft as you are might hope to match the African and by the gods no one else seems able to come let us go on to my house though harshly said and in tones that one less acquainted with a speaker might well have mistaken for sarcasm Sergius knew that the compliment was genuine the aged patrician had turned and strode away as he finished speaking and etiquette left to the younger man no choice but to pay to the elder the reverence of his escort that he had asked what he might well have looked for as a matter of course was something of a condescension according to the strict ceremoniousness of the ancient usage therefore Sergius hurried on and overtook him to bring his litter at which the other sniffed contemptuously may the gods grant me to lie at rest by the apian way before I require such feat then as his sharp eyes noted the flush upon Sergius' face he added fever wounds and death may pardon effeminacy and truly I would beg you to accompany me as you came Palatine should bring new health to one who could run ten miles with a broken shoulder believe me my friend the dictator thought better of you than he spoke and would have regretted the axe Jupiter grant that it be yours to justify his opinion no stimulant could have given such strength to the convalescent as did these words and from such a source the dictator had not condemned then he had even spoken well of him the knowledge of it put to flight the embarrassment he had felt when he realized that he was going perforce to Marsha's house perhaps into her presence and he found himself standing straighter and stepping out with longer and bolder strides good words are better than bad ones for a good man mused wagging his head sententiously and darting at his companion a comprehensive glance behind which lurked a grim smile if women could ever learn as much they might govern us the more readily which the gods forfend as I doubt not they will then the company halted it was many months since Sergius had stood before that door and he could not without grave discourtesy refuse the invitation to enter well what mattered it Marsha cared nothing why should he then to the stimulus of the dictator's approval was still upon him as the warning cry of the porter bad those nearest stand back while the door swung open most of the party took their leave but several followed into the atrium for Agius more appropriate to their station at last all had departed save Sergius who having given orders that his attendants should await him in the street passed on into the peristyle with his host there beside the fountain spinning as he had so often seen her as he had seen her through all the days and nights of the campaign sat the lady Marsha two of her maidens were assisting one who glanced up at Sergius and smile tauntingly and another who turned her face away and seemed to be trying to hide it in the close inspection of a great bunch of fleece but both the forwardness of the one and the bashfulness of the other were wasted upon the visitor as a matter of fact he was so lost in wonder at his courage and self-control as to be well past observing the idiosyncrasies of slaves and if his own attitude was acceptable even to himself his admiration for that of his hostess amounted to absolute bitterness that she a mere girl should rise and come forward with so conventional yet friendly a greeting that neither her lip should tremble nor her cheek flush was little short of intolerable nevertheless it helped to brace his own resolves yet more firmly such poise after all that had been between them could have its source only in the most absolute indifference health to the noble Lucius let him believe that there is no one of his friends who thanks the gods more fervently for his recovery on its face the speech was cordial much too cordial for love that has quarreled therefore he bent his head and answered were it not in piety the noble Lucius would thank his well-wisher for her words more even than the noble Lucius would praise the gods for his recovery ah, she replied lightly then he must scatter his thanks yet more broadly for there cannot be a defenseless woman in Rome who does not rejoice that so brave a defender is spared to the state sarcasm for sarcasm he thought bitterly but he answered as carelessly in that case I thank the gods for if my health be no greater care to you than to all the white stoles in the city I think I can measure its value an expression of almost infantile surprise and reproach crossed her features you are either very forgetful or very ungrateful if Venus has healed so faithful a votary surely mortal women have not been lacking in their sympathy nor if report tells truly has the noble Lucius been lacking in gratitude until now that shaft struck home and for a moment Sergius could find no answer he could only remember the episode of the girl who had come to him and wonder which one of his household could have born treacherous word to Marsha of his weakness and his discomforture meanwhile she had turned carelessly and dismissed her women and one had gone throwing back laughing glances the other with her face still buried in the wool with which she had filled her arms Torquatus had been standing near somewhat puzzled by what he felt to be a battle of words between his daughter and his guest but a battle whose plans of attack or defense he found himself at a loss to fathom feeling at last that it was incumbent upon him as host to break in upon badinage that bad fare to become embarrassing he spoke briefly of his encounter with the mob end of Lucius's timely aid and clever ruse Marsha listened closely nodding her head from time to time but her colour had deepened and her hand was clenched tight when the story was finished who will be safe in Rome father she burst out the rabble elect their magistrates and the magistrates in return let them do as they please when it comes to attacking you a consular a manlius we must sleep no more in our houses unless the household be in arms and on guard Sergius gazed in astonishment Marsha spoke whom he had never known but the old man smiled grimly it is the blood he said she is truly manlia though called against custom for my dead Marsha when Claudians changed the toga for the paladimentum and ogle neons ceased to babble of greek philosophy then shall a manly and be lacking in the spirit of our order I and in the courage to act Marsha did not seem to hear his words her brows were drawn together in what Sergius considered a very pretty frown she turned toward him they have gotten their butcher for counsel she went on now let him lead them how long before they will be begging for the swords they have despised let them alone let Hannibal work his will then we shall stand forth like the exiled camillus to defend a Rome purged of its black blood a Rome worth defending but Sergius had recovered from his surprise and his face was serious as he interrupted the torrent of words patrician and plebeian must stand or fall together my Marsha he said quietly it is the republic that we shall defend and defend the more bravely because it is, in a way defenseless if a time of madness come upon a parent do we not guard her the more tenderly who cannot guard herself I and even against the foolish acts she may herself attempt and you you a Sergius will serve under this Varro she exclaimed truly he said bowing I am a Roman and the barbarians are in Italy when they are gone I will fight Varro on the rostra in the senate perhaps I shall even lead my clients to drag him stabbed from his house she was gazing at him with great round eyes in which the contempt and anger began to give place to a softer look a look which no man might hope quite to interpret then she drew her head to one side and laughed but the laugh was short and nervous I congratulate your eloquence and patriotism as I sympathize with your unpropedious gallantry may Venus make happy your next pursuit of a pretty slave again she laughed and this time her laugh was unfanningly malicious Sergius flushed crimson the artist looked scandalized and stern but before either could answer she was gone you will return to the army then said the old man hurdly and as if to cover his annoyance how soon will your strength be sufficient I shall set out tonight said Sergius the flush had gone from his face and he was very pale while his voice sounded from far away by so doing I shall journey by easier stages and shall avoid accompanying the council nor will he reach the camp before me there is talk of new levees said Turquatus vaguely yes and there will be fighting soon Flaminius fought may Jupiter avert the omen and you will forgive me my father I bid you a too hasty farewell I had not determined to go so soon but it is best and there is preparation to be made Turquatus followed him silently to the door and watched the light of his torches till it died out below the hill then he shook his head with a puzzled, sad expression yes truly he said be lacking end of 12 Recording by Rutherford Osborn Section 13 of The Lion's Brood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Tom Mack Tucson, Arizona The Lion's Brood by Duffeld Osborn Section 13 The Red Flag The red flag fluttered in the breeze above the tent of Varro months had come and gone since the plebeians had triumphed in the field of Mars months of weary lying in camp months of anxious watching months of marches and counter-marches contrary to the expectation of Sergius neither of the new consuls had gone straight to the legions and the pro-consuls Sergius and Regulus remained in command Paulus had busyed himself in preparing for the coming spring levying new men in new legions and directing from the city a policy not unlike that of Fabius while Varro on the other hand as if maddened by his seldom elevation rushed from Senate House to Forum to every corner where a mob could congregate everywhere rolling his eyes and waving his hands now shrieking frantic denunciations against the selfish the criminal the traitorous nobles who had brought the war to Italy and sustained it there by their wicked machinations and contemptible cowardice now congratulating his hearers that the people had alas taken the conspirators by the throat and had elected a fearless consul an incorruptible consul an able consul one who would soon show the world that there were men outside of the three tribes then he would fall to mapping out his campaign a different plan for each cluster of the gaping listeners but each ending in such a slaughter of invaders as Italy had never seen and a picture of the long triumph winding up the sacred way of Hannibal disappearing forever within the yawing jaws of the Talunium at times when his imagination ran riot most he went so far as to depict with what luxuriance the corn would grow on the farm of that happy man whose land should be selected by the great consul the plebeian consul the consul Varro for his slaughter of the enemies and people to these harangs Paulus and the nobles listened in wonder and disgust even in terror when at length the consul set out to take command of the greatest army Rome had ever put into the field the story was passed from mouth to mouth how Fabius had spoken with Paulus and warned him that he must now do battle against two commanders Hannibal and his own colleague and of how Paulus had answered in words that told more of foreboding than of hope even the senate seemed to have fallen under the coarse spell of this mouthing ranter news had come that Hannibal was at Cannae had seized upon the roman stores in the citadel there that strongly posted he was scouring the country in all directions that the allies could not be expected to stand another season of ravage and so when the consuls set out to take command of the legions it was with the express direction of the fathers to give battle on the first favorable opportunity still there was room left them for some discretion and when Paulus had viewed the country along the banks of the Ophidus level as it lay and open to the sweep of cavalry later I told him that the opportunity was not here and that with a short delay the enemy must in the lack of safe forage retire to more favorable ground then followed quarrels and enunciations and furious mouthings but Varro did not neglect to use one day of his command to lead the army forward to a point between the Carthaginians and the sea it would be impossible for Paulus to hope to withdraw them safely in the face of the foe it was on the 1st of Sectillus that Hannibal offered battle but this was Paulus' day and he had lain quiet in camp sulking as his colleague exultantly put it because the plebeians generalship had kept another do nothing patrician commander from running away then the next morning broke the day and the red flag fluttered from the spear above Varro's tent a group of men were gathered before the quarters occupied by certain of the special cavalry mounted volunteers for the most part of rank who served out of respect to the consul Paulus fully armed with horses held nearby they were already prepared to ride out at the word and they listened to the din coming on every side and watched the crimson signal of battle that now flapped lazily in the wind and again hung limp against its staff the butcher has his way at last remarked a youth who had scarce offered up his first beard but the man he addressed Marcus Decius growled in reply wait, only wait my little master shall see who is the butcher and who is the fat steer but, put in another of the company have you not heard that our camp beyond the stream had no water yesterday that the Numidians cut them off from it doubtless we are to cross over to its relief Decius rowed was from his buckler upon which he had been resting and swept his arm out across the country all one he said water or blood this bank or that look no room for our infantry to spread out level ground for their horse to sweep clean you have never been close to the Numidians my master and he pointed to the scar across his forehead they ride fast and strike hard when the country pleases them the boy laughed carelessly but said nothing while he who had spoken third hesitated a moment and frowned then he said in his voice you are an old soldier Marcus ahead to Curian once and you would do better than to try to terrify men of less experience Decius ground his teeth and his eyes flashed but he lowered his voice when he replied I thank you Caius Manulus for the reminder and I also may recall to you that I am neither the only nor the highest officer who is serving as volunteer today because Varro must have legions commanded by butchers and bakers and moneylenders I too am a plebeian and I cast my pebble for my order where at the infernal gods are doubtlessly now rejoicing but I am also as you say an old soldier and hold the camp to be no place for the tricks of the forum as for frightening recruits if words in the sight of old scars will frighten them they had best ride north today hard and fast Manulus faced flushed at the reminder of his own lost command and as if by consent both men glanced over at another who stood near them leaning on his spear drawn by the centered attention of the two Lucius Sergius turned from his inspection of the rising mists beyond which lay the Carthaginian forces and looked silently and sadly at his friends Manulus the brother of his mistress parted from him for a while by petty embarrassments and diverse duties but for the last days closer than ever in kindred service and fellowship and Dacius the sturdy comrade of the companion raid the man who talked now like Ulysses now like Theristies but who always fought like Diomed the very nieces who had saved his life it seemed to as if the others understood the import of his glance for Dacius turned away ostentatiously and sought to arrange the leather strap of his coarsely skirt while Manulus strode over and grasped Sergius hand the butcher showed us better favor than he intended when he put others in our commands he said gaily we shall fight side by side and perhaps my sister may be pleased to play the siren no longer besides I am well satisfied to be free from any of the responsibilities of this day Marcia is no songstress of the rock my Kyos said Sergius half sadly half playfully unless her heart be the rock she sings a rock to me but the gods have given men other things when women do not choose to love things that will serve to stir us today afterward we shall be still then noting that the young man who had first addressed Dacius was now watching their talk with troubled face he raised his voice cheerfully Tribuner Volunteer called one to me do he not serve under Emilius Paulus and his Ilaradian auspices after this day friends we shall see no more pulse eaters in Italy suddenly a blast of trumpets ran clear above the noise of preparation lieutenants dashed hither and thither their legs bent along their horses sides several cohorts marched past to man the rampart nearest the foe while from behind came the louder rattle of arms and the earth shook under the tread of the legions pressing on through the port of Dextra and spreading out in three great columns that plunged down the slope into the Ophidus and rose again and pushed out into the plane on its southern bank Estati, Principus Triari they marched in the order of battle ready to face about at the moment of attack while as they deployed the famished Romans across the river swarmed down under the shelter of the protecting lions and lying thick in the turbid water below drank as if their parched tongues and lips would never soften the morning mists were clearing strange sounds and rumblings came also from the south and west and the red flag on limp upon the spear still the legions streamed on but no orders had come to the special volunteers and Sergius began to wonder whether they were to be left to guard the camp as an added indignity to their rank he ascended the rampart with manlius andaceus and strove to pierce the distance in the west now and then a broad flash of light seemed to shine before his eyes and ever there came to his ears the rumble of tramping thousands the dust too was thickening to take the place of the scattered mists and the wind blew it up in blinding clouds into the face of Rome's battle Gods, what is Territinus Varro doing? cried Dacia suddenly and the three turned at his voice a nodding forest of crests red and black rising a cubit above the uncovered helmets of the legionnaires seemed to fill the eastern plain and extend almost to where the Adriatic beat upon the shingle look at his front look at how closely the manifolds are crushed together Gods, they are almost within the rails already Sergius looked and the frown upon his brow deepened 80,000 men he muttered and we shall scarce outflank their 40,000 Does Varro wish to cast aside every advantage? Gods, what gain is there in such depth? and he might evidently do not understand the strategy of great commanders who have studied war corrupted with cynical and scornful to a degree that men hated the speaker even before they saw him and when the three wheeled quickly his face gave nothing to dispel the bad impression a tall gaunt man in plain and somewhat battered armor a face sharp featured very dark and deeply lined wherever the wrinkles lay that express pride and contempt and violent passions from beneath which shown little beady cunning eyes that opponents feared and distrusted this was Lucius Emilius Paulus the conqueror of Ilria the man who had barely escaped conviction for his peculations the colleague of Varro the butcher a patrician of the bluest blood in Rome a nave in pecuniary matters selfish and ungoverned but a brave and wary soldier from Crutherni to Crest you seem to be criticizing a Roman consul even my brother Varro he said again for the three had only bowed in reply to his former speech are you not presumptuous you Lucius Sergius and you Cius Manulus boys in war and you Dacius or whoever you may be a man of Varro's order if I mistake not yes my father I criticize replied Sergius at last for the others said nothing perhaps you were thinking that he has extended his front too far said the consul and there was infinite sarcasm in his tones Sergius grew crimson under the taunting voice and little shifty eyes I have ventured to say he replied haughtily that the consul Varro is not using our numbers as he might as you have noted the front is contracted where we might easily lash around their flank like the thongs of a scourge nevertheless had I known that the noble collie of the general was near me I would have restrained my words ah then you have doubtless grown more respectful of commanders since you disobeyed your dictator in Campania the anger in Sergius' face told the speaker that the limit of endurance had been reached and his tone became less offensive that is in the old days though and you did run 12 miles with a broken shoulder you see I know all only I am sure that you are not realizing how deeply your general has studied the Punic Wars or perhaps you do not know how necessary is depth in the battle that would stand against the great warrior beasts it is possible, barely possible that our most scientific commander has forgotten that the enemy has no elephants here but what is that to a great genius he has learned that Carthage wars with elephants that these are the best met by deepening the files and that we are about to fight Carthage therefore he deepens the files though the last elephant in Italy died two years ago in the northern marshes if you are beaten you will at least have the satisfaction of being beaten while fighting most learnedly as Sergius noted the bitterness and agony in the voice that spoke he found his resentment giving place to pity for the hard grim man who powerless to avert yet saw clearly every cord of the snare into which was being driven do we guard the camp my father he asked gently when Paulus had finished the latter started from the gloomy stare with which he was regarding the fast forming lines I have been offered the command of the camp he said almost fiercely I have refused it escape to the north would be too easy and I do not wish to escape what do you think the centuries would do if I came home beaten I who escaped so narrowly before he leered cunningly at his listeners then his face grew set and his voice cold and even I have solicited command of the Roman cavalry we shall fight on the right wing beside the river and I do not think many of us will ride from battle Varro commands the cavalry of the allies on the left and the pro consoles he hesitated a moment the pro consoles market their beaves in the center you will cross with me now my volunteers write about my body it is time, it is time the breeze from the south word freshened every minute and the red flag lashed out angrily toward the sea end of section 13 recording by Tom Mack section 14 of The Lion's Brood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborn section 14 the cavalry trumpets rang out their clear notes insurgious and his companions threw themselves upon their kneeling chargers they rode out and down the bank behind the consul who, with head hanging upon his breast had turned his reign from the moment he had given the word what if the dust did swirl up in blinding sheets from the south before them lay the roman battle horse and foot such an army as the city had never sent forth what if its masses were somewhat cramped its front narrow its general and amateur would fight at last and how should a mongrel horde of barbarians but half their number stand firm against the impetus of such a shock a moments hush then measured voices rose and calm cadence the voices of the tribunes administering the military oath to each cohort faithful to the senate obedient to your imperator what roman could doubt that the voice of victory spoke in the thunderous response and now the clanger of the symbols of drums came up on the breezes from the south and with them a strange uproar of barbarous shouts and cries then it was that the roman legionnaires began to crash their heavy javelins against their great oblong shields until the din drowned everything else and the thunder of joe of himself might have roared in vain sergius had ridden up the bank almost at the consul's reign and his eyes wandered eagerly over Varro's array the regions with their quota of allies seem welded into one huge column romans on the right italians on the left the sun was well up and its rays played upon a very sea of bronze from which the feathered crests rose and shivered like foam far beyond the column on the extreme left he could make out squadrons of allied horse and then he turned to take his place amid the cavalry of the city young men well born from the corridor and wrath despite himself his heart rose with a leap of triumph a moment later he caught the little beady eyes of the consul looking through him as it were while the thin mouth beneath writhed itself into a sneer you hope that is well said paulus young men fight better and die better when they hope but I will show you how a roman soldier can give up his life or not he's headed with lowered voice and speaking as if in self-communion that more of our horsemen had adopted the greek arms reeds, spears, and oxide bucklers will not stand long against heavy cavalry a temple to mars the adventure if I had but a front of a lyrian horse see now there are the scum his voice rose eagerly at the last words and sergius turned from the dark face now flashing with a sudden animation he took southward over the plain for a moment the dust was too thick then it seemed to clear away in a carthaginian army burst into view undulating like the open sea enrolling steadily unlike the long, slow sweep of billows upon a level shore the glory of barbaric war junior on their left resting upon the rivers bank rode the spanish and gallic cavalry strengthened here and there by a horse and man in full armor like those of the clinobarians in the face of paulos clouded again when he noted what opponents he must meet men, horses, arms all heavier than his own with the exception of a few termae newly equipped in the greek fashion beyond them thrown back in echelon marched afrogans in little squares of sixteen front these had substituted for their own equipment the roman spoils of trace menace and trebia somewhat in advance came alternate companies of galls and spaniards spread out in long thin array the former stripped of the naval their hair tied up in a tufted knot and bearing their great swords upon their shoulders the spaniards glittering in their purple border tunics of snowy linen the waving pikes of phalanges told of more africans who seemed to lie in echelon beyond while far away toward the low hills overgrown with copeswood they formed the eastern horizon clouds of swift moving dust amid which shadows darted hither and thither at seeming random marked the presence of the wild riders of Numidia who were to face the horsemen of italy and of the latin name in front of all the plain was dotted with naked men advancing at regular intervals and bearing small bucklers of linkside the famous balleric slingers that always opened the day of battle for carthage the heart of Sergius swelled within him beating hard and fast under the tension of the moment only a few minutes more and those magnificent armies would crash together not to part until the plain should be heaped with corpses that were now men until the god should a judge the sovereignty of italy then he grew calm calm as a console himself engaged and raptured upon the pitcher as if it meant no more than art and show only the wind came fresher from the south and the fine dust ground up by marching thousands smarted and blinded his eyes nearer and nearer they drew with steady slow advance while Rome stood still and awaited their coming and now a commotion seemed to start from the far distant south the roar of voices the blinding flash of the sun on tossing swords cloud of dust distinct upon the plain clump of horse head standards rising amid it of riders urging their galloping steeds along the invaders front rich armor of strange patterns shown among them and a length ahead of the rest Sergius could see a white stallion with close cropped mane and hooves and fatlocks stained vermilion that danced and curvited and arched its proud neck under the touch of a master he was not an over-tall man but his figure as he rode seemed well-knit and graceful on-scale work rich with gold and jewels while a white mantle fringed with Tyrion purple hung from his shoulders a helmet of burnished gold horn encrusted gleamed like a star upon his head while even at a distance even through the swirl of dust Sergius saw the crisp curled black beard and dreamed that he caught the flash of dark deep-set eyes there was no need of the beating no need of the roar and howls and shrill screaming in a score of tongues to tell the stranger's name most of the soldiers kept ranks but here and there a gall would bound forward dancing with strange leaps and whirling his sword about his head to throw himself prone before and beneath a vermilion hooves that never paused or swerved in their gallop not a movement, not a glance of the rider gave sign of acknowledgement or recognition, not a look was cast upon the groveling form safe or hurt or maimed only the soldiers comrades howled their plaudits mingled with laughter and rude jeers whenever the devotee lay still or writhed or rose staggering from some stroke of the vermilion hooves but when the horsemen drew bridle before the extreme left of the center and with eyes shaded by his hand gazed long and earnestly at the Roman array the plaudits that had greeted his passage died away into low murmurs the general is studying the enemy be silent who knows but he would commune with Baal and Moloch, be silent so the word ran round and threw the african squares suddenly peels of laughter broke from the group of carthaginian officers that had ridden behind and who now clustered around him the calm that no devotion no suffering, no danger of men could move was gone the scallicism had turned his measuring of the enemy to smile and jest with his friends thereupon they threw back their heads and laughed loud and long and then the africans noted it and horse cries of joy broke from their ranks the scallicism must be sure of victory praise be to Melcharth Sergius saw a captain of one of the squares run out and touch his forehead to the earth before his commander but no Roman heard the man's words pregnant with fate father, let the lions brood lead the beasts of the fields to their feast we hunger, father we hunger and Hannibal had made answer pointing northward toward the plume crusted sea of a blazing bronze low friend, there are your meat and wine and then a new roar of acclamation broke upward and rolled away to the east two richly armed riders parted from the group and dashed off maharbaal, light and slender over his horse's neck rode headlong in Numidian fashion to his Numidians Ezrubal, erect and dignified galloped to the head of a gallish and Spanish horse upon the banks of Alphitas trumpets, drums, cymbals, crashed out in mad barbaric discords and with their horse head standards tossing amid the forest of spears the Carthaginian line drove forward to the attack running fast before the line of battle which could still make out even through the dust those same naked men with links hide bucklers dotting the plain at regular intervals and each man's right arm seemed always whirling about his head the Roman light troops had pushed on to skirmish and now they began to fall back though no arrow or javelin could have reached them could have flown to the foe Sergius watched in surprise their confusion and terror as they sought to plunge among the legionnaires to hide themselves behind the horsemen nor had they fled unscathed here a man ran by screaming and clasping his shattered hand to his breast then another staggered up with arm hanging broken at his side while the big drops of blood fell slowly from his fingers and yet a third appeared pale and helpless supported between two companions sounds too now dull and heavy and again ringing and metallic seemed to punctuate the roar of the advancing host Sergius saw a horseman near him clap his hand to his forehead and plunge headlong to the earth horses reared and snorted some fell with ugly red blotches on their breasts and throats the clanger and the thuds came faster faster for now the clay and leaden bullets of the slingers fell in showers like hail stones and it was good armor that turned them Manlius had leaped down to aid a friend who was reeling helplessly with both eyes beaten out and a moment later he approached Sergius holding up a slinger's bullet the red had sunken into the lines of the stamped inscription and displayed them in hideous relief this to your back sheep that is always the way with barbarians sneered Marcus Diceus no blow without an insult look they shall have blows themselves soon that will need no insults to piece them out Paulus had watched with eagerness with anxiety for the signal to advance Padros seemed to hesitate while the great masses of Rome lashed by the bitter rain of the slings writhing groaned in anguish and rage the light troops had disappeared and the ballerians now close at hand lept and slung without lead or hindrance then it was that Paulus waiting no longer made a sign to his trumpeters scatter me that rabble he cried and the cavalry clarions raised their voices and one long swelling peal of sound close, close! rose a shout of battle and the Roman horse dashed forward into the dust cloud forward upon the slingers that suddenly were not there had vanished, as it were into the earth itself the straight trumpets and curved horns of the legions were ringing behind them stirred to life at last but the horsemen did not hear what were those looming up ahead the slingers, armored, cavalry Ezderbaal with his galls and Spaniards were before them upon them and all sense and volition were lost in the terrific shock line after line went down as if at touch while fresh lines poured on over the heaving mass of men and horses until those who were face to face seemed to fight upon a hill fiercer grew the pressure tighter and more dense the throng horses crushed together powerless to move snorted and tossed their heads in terror while the riders leaned forward and grappled with those opposite weapons first then hands clutching at throats were doing the deadly work and the dead, man and horse so'd fast amid the press unable even to fall and become merged into the hideous purple thing beneath their feet mere weight though was beginning to tell the human ridge that marked the joining of the battle seemed far back the enemy and squadron after squadron in close array breasted its top and plunged down to mingle with the living or take their places among the dead the Romans were giving ground slowly stubbornly but unmistakably and still above the shouts and shrieks the trampling and the clash of weapons the groans and the hard short breathing they could hear the harsh voice of the console Paulus urging his men to make battle firmly forward steadily backward and now in one of those mad brushes in which men who seemed to moveably wedge were swirled about like water in a maelstrom Sergius found himself close to the console with manliest but a few places in front the thin cruel lips had writhed away from the white teeth the helmet was gone and the scant black air was dabbled with blood that flowed from a slight cut upon the general's brow the snake-like eyes sought those of the young patrician with a look wherein exultation and despair were strangely mingled to the earth to the earth all he cried at the same moment plunging his sword into his horse's throat and lighting firmly on his feet as the animal sank suddenly down we must stand gods where are the legions clashing shields and waving javelins while we are cut to pieces gods they shall pay for it and he drew close the Sergius's ear and whispered as calmly as if in the baratorium learn now a lesson of war my son, Hannibal destroys us piecemeal choosing where he is strong and we are weak while Varro allows his strength to stand and rust and wait for its turn to come down down down all outnumbered, outarmed born down and back the Roman cavalry still fought but the press had grown looser the mass less dense and now at the word of the consul all that could hear his voice obeyed the order of despair ancient as the day of Lake Regulus man after man sprang to earth here was freer swing for weapons here was sure foothold better chance to stand fast and for a moment the thronging foe seemed to recoil before the determined onslaught but it was not recoil it was only the devouring of the foremost by the red monster underneath who could recoil with the squadron still pouring on over the hill of corpses behind beaten a man could die in his place and much they did many too had followed the Roman example leaping from their steeds and fighting hand to hand till the cavalry battle had changed into a thousand combats of man against man he was here the chaos manliest fell Sergius was about a few feet from him when he saw the youth sway gently and bowing his head sink down he made an effort to push to his side and then the front of the enemy seemed to receive some new impetus and surged forward over the spot what mattered it he had seen the red spear point beeping out between his friend's shoulders he was dead as they would soon all be and the couch was purple and king-like at that moment he felt his arm gripped hard and turned a look into the consul's face do you not see it is over said Paul us sharply oh we are falling back forced back faster and faster we are where we first stood do you see that sapling by the river I marked it before we rode out soon we shall break come where as Sergius where there may yet be hope if the gods will it if they strike down Varro the center the legions I do not believe they have fairly advanced their standard yet do we fly and as he spoke Sergius frowned darkly fool we fight later perhaps we shall die but not here in the center as he spoke a new swirling rust seemed to carry them away still together first with furious violence then more slowly ah it has come the consul quietly this way the dust is blinding but I think the sun is behind us pushing on and striking right and left as he went Emilius Paulus fought a pathway through the flying and pursuing men Sergius followed and once when he saw the consul cut down the boy who had stood near and talked to them that morning he stopped and shuddered Paulus paused and laughed at him over his shoulder a flying man and a path of a general worse than a dead one he said besides none of them can save his life in that direction so it is nothing at that moment indeed the prophecy that no man of the Roman cavalry would escape seemed fair for fulfillment few fought on and these were soon ridden down while Gauls and Spaniards thundered upon the rear of such as sought safety of the rain and slew them with steady measured strokes Paul with perhaps a dozen others were for the time safe they were clear of the route within the protecting reach of the great legionary column that was just beginning to move and they turned gasping for breath and with dazed eyes watched the flight and pursuit sweep by along the river bank end of section 14 recording by Keith Salis section 15 of the lions brood LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org the lions brood by Duffield Osborne section 15 within the rails it was then that Sergius first realized that Chaos Manlius, his friend the brother of Marsha was indeed dead but the time for such thoughts was short clenching his teeth in a paroxysm of anger he again turned to follow Paulus and Desius who had passed into the ranks of the legions and joined themselves to the personal volunteers of the proconsul Sergius the great column was moving now steadily gathering impetus and there was little speech between the generals Sergius gazed with gloomy brows at the consul and a half dozen men that remained to him and no question as to the fate of the right wing was asked or answered how fight they on the left asked Paulus after a moment's pause the allies skirmish with the Numidians replied Sergius you mean that the Numidians skirmish with them said Paulus that was all and the two soldiers turned to their task the slingers bullets fell no longer or only scattering ones dropping from above told that these hornets had fallen back and sought refuge behind their lines the battle rolled furiously from the front it is the standards that oppose at last commented Paulus the ranks are not too close yet let us go forward Sergius protested but the other waved him back here is your place who command my Sergius said the consul and the smile, sad rather than bitter lit up the harsh lines of his face it is I having no command reply the sword Sergius followed and in a few moments the increasing pandemonium told that the front was not far ahead the dust filled their eyes and they could see nothing beyond but the signs were for the veteran to read soon there was no more headway to be made through the dense mass the corpses of the slain were thick beneath their feet half naked gulls and spanyards and white and purple mingled with the dead of the legions and still the column pushed forward and still the slain lay closer they give ground we are driving in their center gasp Sergius Paulus had been frowning grimly but now he turned to Marcus Dessius and showed his wolfish teeth in his old time smile what did you say Decurion he asked we drive them surely but yes, truly but do you hear those cries on the flank of the Celts it is the Africans that let us plunge on like one of Varo's stupid bulls and they pull the sword on our side could you fight now I tell you we were already driven within the rails if the gods keep Hasdrubal slaying my runaways there may be hope if he be a general there is none and still the columns headway seemed hardly checked though the cries and the clashing of arms resounded now from both flanks as well as from the front while in the depths of its vitals men were crushed together till they could scarce breathe a rumor too like those pans sends the dismay soldiers ran quickly from heart to heart rather than from lip to lip it was that Hasdrubal had circled the rear and falling upon the allied cavalry had scattered the left wing as he had the right that the Numidians pursued and slaughtered but where now were the cavalry of Gaul the winners of the two victories a sudden roar from the far distant rears seemed to answer but the language was one that few could read few of that host oh for an hour of the veterans that slumbered on the shores of Trebia in Trezminis oh for an hour of Fabius who lingered at Rome powerless and discredited who were these that wore the armor that wielded the ponderous javelins of Rome's legions helmets gorgeously fierce with their great crests peered eyes stupid wondering eyes dazed by the uproar blinded by the dust eyes were in while as yet there was little of fear still less there was of knowledge of danger to be met and overcome eyes that had but barely watched sheep from the Albin hills eyes that were used only to the flower dust when their owners needed dough behind the forum a head around the standards were tossing as if upon the billows of an angry sea was that a silver horse's head that flashed far to the right look cried Sergius striking desius with his elbow you can see better now wondered the veteran the flower is bred and the bread of battle is mire needed of dust and blood the eyes of palos were turned upward in strange prayer grant me not oh Jupiter my life this day it needed no why a veteran to read the sentence that was writ driven at last within the rails as went the saying there was no room in all that well-during mass to use the sword much less the pilium on every side the barbarians of Africa of Spain of Gaul raged and slew for even advance was now checked and the Celts had turned and lashed the front with their great swords rose and fell crimson to the hilt crimson to the shoulder crimson to every inch of their wielder's huge bodies the Spaniards too were stabbing fast and furiously while all along both flanks the African square between which the weight of the column had forced its narrow length thrust with their long Ceresis and reigned their pila upon the doomed monster in their midst a war elephant wounded to the death with sides hung savelins and streaming with blood rocking and trumpeting in helpless agony Sergius watched the dull, hopeless look deepening in the eyes of the young soldiers they reminded him of the bees in the shambles of the elder Varro even the voice of Pan could not wake such men were they not there to die for the traditions of Rome it was true that every path leading to Pan's country bristled with spears but only a few could fully know and these awaited their turn with the rest the press seemed to loosen somewhat perhaps the assailants had drawn back to gain breath for a final onslaught but instinctively the staggering lines of the Roman column opened out into the space afforded and its four faces writhe forward bravely pitifully it was then that Sergius saw the council for the last time he had turned back from where he had forced his way to the head of the column his arms were battered and bloodstained he reeled painfully in his saddle for Paulus had mounted again that he might the better be seen by the legionnaires his wandering eyes took in every detail of their hopeless plight the last sparks of fire seemed to die out in him and his head drooped upon his chest then slowly he dismounted having ordered his horse to kneel and the beast unable to rise again rolled over on its side Paulus watched it with almost an expression of pity and then dragged himself to a flat rock and sat down Desius had sought to aid him but the other thrust him rudely back it is only the smaller bone he said one of their cursed stingers hit me at that moment a rider covered with foam and dust and blood dashed up to the group and raining his steaming animal to its haunches left to the ground Paulus raised his eyes it is time for you to escape Cneus lentilus he said you have a horse it is for you my father that this day be not further darkened by the death of a consul my horse is good and there are still gaps between their squadrons ride to the east and you are but a tribune and a young man my Cneus where is Varro flood and the pro consuls both fallen and you would said my Cneus that the republic degenerates that not one of this year's consuls dares die with his men while both of last years were Romans truly it would be a much darker day should I escape with Varro than if I die with Regulus and Servilius besides I have no humor for further charges and trials in order that the rabble may vindicate their favorite butcher but do you go Cneus and tell them that you have seen me sitting in my colleagues shambles there were tears and lentilus's eyes and he still strove to persuade his general to accept the horse but at that moment new shouting and clashing of arms announced what must prove the final attack they come again my father sedesius calmly the roar of battle swelled up all about the doomed column in front and flanks Africans Gauls and Spaniards charged in unbroken lines and soon forced the deploying but weakened manapals back into their weltering mass in the rear the attack was less continuous for Hasdrabal's horsemen were exhausted with slaying and he hurled them in alternate squadrons now on this point now on that wherever the Roman line showed relics of strength or firmness so the front worked back driven by sheer weight in the direction where the pressure was leased Paulus still sat with drooping head faint with fatigue and loss of blood while desius, sergius and lentilus stood by him helplessly awaiting the end a rush of fugitives swept by and almost overwhelmed the wounded man but desius passed his arm around him and the press slackened it is time for you to mount and ride Cneus lentilus and the consul raised his head again while the old time spirit of command flashed in his eyes you shall be my envoy to the fathers bid them fortify and garrison the city go a new rush broke in on his words a rush in which the whole front was born back a spears length beyond them sergius was thrown down but someone raised him dazed and stunned and seemed to bear him along a moment and he found himself standing once more upon his feet Cneus lentilus and his horse were gone paulus and marcus desius were left alone far beyond no not alone he saw the tunics of the uberians now all as purple as their borders thronging around he saw his general and his comrade give their throats to the sharp slender swords and then he saw far ahead amid the carthaginian syntagmata a swarthy smiling face with crisp curling beard he saw the brown bronze corset rich with gold the meteor helmet with ostrich blooms floating between its horns the snowy mantle bordered with tyrian purple and he saw the white head of the horse whose feet needed now no die of art to stain them vermilion all the fury of battle all the madness of revenge overwhelmed him in an instant despair was gone thoughts of past and future were swept away by the surge of one over mastering idea he must reach that man and kill him he looked round at the scattered reeling manapals a standard bearer was lying at his feet striving with his remnant of strength to wrench the silver eagle from its staff that he might hide it under his cloak but the death rattle came too quickly surgius picked up the standard come he said there is the enemy man without a glance to note whether his appeal was regarded he rushed blindly forward he was a discipline inspired by tradition rather than taught by drills and punishments that came to the roman recruit and now it played its part these peasants these artisans whose eyes had seen not save unaccustomed horrors through all the day turned at once to answer the summons of the eagle surgius heard the feeble shout of battle that rose behind him heard the scattered singing of sword and shield and when he struck the long pikes of the first square it was with the force of half a dozen broken manapals welded into a solid mass still the sarises held firm perhaps two lines went down but the pila reigned their slant courses from the rear the feeble rush was stopped and legionnaires struggled helplessly upon the spears surgius saw nothing but the dark bearded face among the squares scarcely nearer than before had he not read in a little book written by one xenophon a greek and purchased at great cost at the shop of mylo the bookseller in argilentum how oriental armies won or lost by life or death of their leaders he would kill Hannibal would to the gods that paulus had fallen in the synctus gabinus paulus too much of an infidel to think of such old time emulation but there was yet one last appeal seizing the tough staff of the standard almost at the end he whirled it around his head and let it go at full swing the silver eagle flashed in the light of the setting sun as it described great arcs and plunged down amid the hostile ranks a horse cry went up the very deity of the legion was amid its foes no romans so untried as not to hear its call the short swords hacked and stabbed among the spears the first square swayed and rocked shivered into fragments and hurled back upon the second bore it too down in the mingled rush of pursuers and pursued on every side of the dwindling band of assailants front flanks and rear the pikes dipped and plunged the gallic swords hissed through the air the spaniards ravened and stabbed but to the romans flanks and rear were nothing it was the front the libeans the lost eagle and now at last it was one the advance had been checked by the closer welding of the syndigmata half his men were down a sergius still unheard had stooped and raised the standard kissing its crimson beak and wings then he looked up half the space between himself and the bearded horseman had vanished and the latter was no longer talking carelessly with those about his steady gaze was fixed upon the young roman as if studying the exact measure of strength that remained to him there was nothing else for it again the great staff described great circles through the air and again the crimson eagle soared and stooped and the white stallion reared and snorted as it struck the earth before him again the shattered fragment of an army hurled itself wounded and weary and bleeding among the ever thickening spears yes and forced its way a quarter half the remaining distance until sergius whose eyes never for a moment forsaken those of the carthaginian saw them grow troubled saw the black bushy brows draw together then his enemy turned and spoke a few hurried words to an attendant gesticulating freely until the man whirled his horse about and drove back through the throng when sergius looked into the face of the general again it wore a disdainful smile the smile of a Zeus that watches the sons of Alulo pile mountain on mountain in the vain to storm Olympus again Hannibal was careless and unconcerned again he laughed and joked gaily with his attendants his soldiers eye had set the limit of Rome's last paroxysm and it fell short of the spot where he sat not by much but enough all the remained was for the arrows of Apollo to do their work and now he had set these to the string weary and yet more weary the wolves bit and tore their way then they came staggering to a stand three spear links from the lost eagle then the pressure behind seemed to slacken and the serried spears in front bore them slowly backward all was over sergius's eyes dim in bloodshot wandered at last from the contemptuous smile that had held them and rested upon the score of men for the most part wounded they remained about him for an instant the spears and swords ceased their work and a dense mass of lowering faces that surrounded the last of the legions rolled back lanes appeared between the Sintigmata a chorus of wild cries swelled up swept nearer and the furious riders of the desert came galloping through every interspace to them had been granted for a mark of honor the ending of the battle it was only a single rush a brandishing and plunging of javelins retained in grasp a little more blood splattered upon the horse's necks and bellies no legionary was standing when the tempest had gone by and there among his men with face turned from the red earth to the reddening sky they luscious, sergius, fidenus in slumber fitting for a Roman patrician when the black day of Cannae was done end of section 15 recording by geeth salis