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Book Description
217 BC. The Gauls are restless. Where is the wealth, plunder and lands they were promised?
Hannibal’s army has become little more than a burden to be fed and quartered … as welcome as a
plague of locusts. Assassination plots abound as Hannibal is driven to take desperate measures to
evade the assassin’s knife.
If Hannibal is to appease the Gauls he must act fast. The invasion of Italia must not be delayed – his
very life depends on it – but as that winter of winters fades into memory he is faced with a stark
choice. Should he strike east towards the plains of Umbria and face consul Gnaeus Servilius Geminus’
legions holed up inside the unassailable walls of Ariminum? Or strike westwards into the plunder-rich
lands of Etruria?
Consul Gaius Flaminius’ legions guard the western approaches. If any man can fire the bellies of
Gauls with loathing it’s Flaminius. But there is one other whose blood runs cold at the mention of the
name. Flaminius ordered the brutal murder of Sphax’s parents and Sphax has sworn a sacred oath to
seek revenge. Can Hannibal trust the leader of his Numidian cavalry, or will this blood feud cloud his
judgement? Sooner or later Sphax will have to face his inner demons.
Extract
Spring 217 BC – Sphax, three of his Numidians, and his friends Idwal and Drust have charted a
trading vessel to make contact with a Carthaginian fleet of triremes sighted off Pisae (modern Pisa)
a week earlier.
Unfortunately, everything that could go wrong does go wrong! The captain of the vessel,
Tarbo, an old salt we met with in The Walls of Rome, dies of natural causes (though the crew
accuse Sphax of murdering him!) on their first night at sea.
They are stranded aboard a ship crewed
by slave boys – most, little more than children. Sabinus, a boy of fourteen is put in charge of the
tiller bar.
It seems rescue is finally at hand when they catch sight of the phantom Carthaginian fleet
closing with them rapidly. But their relief is short-lived! To their horror, they discover it’s an
enemy squadron, about to hunt them down …
* * * *
‘Courage, Sabinus! Hold your nerve. All those ham-handed arsewits have are their oars. We have
the wind! The advantage is with us, not them.’
Months ago he’d faced a similar desperate situation in the narrow confines of the harbour at
Brundisium. Hopeless as it had first appeared, the Illyrian crew had managed to fight their way out.
At the very least he knew what they must do.
‘Listen to me carefully, Captain—’
‘But I’m not a proper—’
‘You are our Captain, Sabinus, and your crew have every faith in you. Trust me. Believe in
yourself. All you have to do is steer directly for that trireme in the middle. Don’t let its bowsprit out
of your sight.’ Sphax risked a glance forward. Three hundred paces he guessed, and closing.
‘Do you see the trireme to the left of it, on our larboard?’ The lad nodded. ‘Though the
vessels are abreast, can you see there’s still clear water between them?’ Although ashen grey and
rigid with fear, the boy still managed to nod.
‘That’s the clear water I want you to steer into. But only when you’re almost on top of that
trireme. You must hold your nerve until the last possible moment. Leave it until you think you’re
about to collide before you wrench the tiller bar and steer into that clear water between them.
Turning south-east will give us all the wind.’ Again, Sphax frantically checked the distance between themselves and their foe. Two hundred paces. This was not the time for speeches. He had to make this quick.
‘Don’t avoid their oars. Smash them! This sturdy old corbita will make kindling of them.’
Sphax forced a grin. ‘Have you got all that?’ Despite his fear, that look of fierce concentration had
returned to the lad’s face. ‘Do this for Captain Tarbo, Sabinus.’
Turning to the boys on deck he saw they too were frozen with fear, staring up at him.
‘Sabinus will abruptly change course to the south-east. You must prepare and be ready for this.
We’ll need all the power of this north-westerly. Our mainsail must not spill a breath of wind! Have
you got that?’ Only Naso nodded. ‘If we all do our duty we’ll get through this.’ If only he could be
certain … duty might not be enough.
At sixty paces, Sphax could now clearly see the massive curved prow of the trireme bearing
down on them. If Sabinus lost his nerve and swung her to the south-east too soon, it would give the
Roman helmsman time to respond and alter course to intercept. Even a glancing blow from that
ram would slice them open as easily as a knife guts fish. Sabinus had to leave it until the last gasp,
that last desperate moment. All their lives were now in the hands of a fourteen year old boy,
standing rigid with fear at the helm.
Idwal was standing beside him. ‘If we survive this, I have some good news for us all.’ So
incongruous was this statement that despite Sphax’s pounding heart he found himself laughing, but
it was laughter born of hysteria.
Then all he heard was the sickening sound of splintering wood as the vessel swayed and
juddered under the full force of the wind. His first thought was that the spike of a Roman ram was
eviscerating their timbers, but as images of helmeted legionaries flashed past, he realised he was
hearing the sound of oars, snapping like twigs. It was over in a heartbeat.
Author Bio
I’ve always read widely and been fascinated by ancient cultures - especially those of Greece,
Phoenicia and Carthage. But my reason for writing the first novel in The Histories of Sphax series may
sound strange to readers: I really wanted to set the record straight, to write about Hannibal’s war
with Rome from Carthage’s perspective.
When Cato the Censor demanded that ‘Carthage must be destroyed,’ Rome did just that. In
146 BC, after a three year siege, Carthage was raised to the ground, its surviving citizens sold into
slavery and the fields where this once magnificent city had stood, ploughed by oxen. Carthage was
erased from history.
That’s why I’m a novelist on a mission! I want to set the historical record straight. Our entire
history of Hannibal’s wars with Rome is nothing short of propaganda, written by Greeks and Romans
for their Roman clients. It intrigues me that Hannibal took two Greek scholars and historians with
him on campaign, yet their histories of Rome’s deadliest war have never seen the light of day.
My hero, Sphax the Numidian, tells a different story!
When I’m not waging war with my pen, I like to indulge my passion for travel and hill walking,
and like my hero, I too love horses. I live in Pembrokeshire, West Wales.
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