I am back! After a long hiatus my batteries are recharged and is ready to contribute to the Bardic Circle. I will try to update as regularly as I can but I am determined to go through with this to the end.
Enjoy!
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The Mercenary War
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Hamilcar Barca rode his horse past his soldiers who rested upon the rocky hills to the south of Eryx in Sicily - northwest of the island. The commander of the Carthaginian armies in Sicily sighed when seeing his ragged soldiers rest wearingly on a cloudy mid March morning. His army had been fighting doggedly against the Romans ever since Hamilcar took command of the armies in Sicily six years ago. Despite the raids against Rome on the island his ability to hold the enemy on land with little help had not been matched by his compatriots in the sea.
“May Ba’al curse them for their incompetence!” he snarled to himself causing the horse to neigh while Hamilcar ruefully remembered the punishing naval defeats his people had suffered against Rome. He shuddered what at happened at Economus when the Romans smashed the vast Carthaginian fleet – a people with a navy Hamilcar had dismissed all those years ago when the war started.How wrong would I be!
These naval defeats strangled the supply and communication lines between Hamilcar's forces in Sicily and his masters at Carthage. To make things worse the port of Drepana to the west of Hamilcar’s position at Eryx had recently fallen merely worsening their supply situation.
“Now all our hopes rest on Hanno,” Hamilcar sighed. He was aware a relief force, laden with supplies and men, was enroute to the besieged city of Lilybaeum - still held out under Hamilcar’s subordinate officer Gesco. If they could get past the Roman blockade and land in Sicily then Barca could relieve Lilybaeum and counter attack with his army of 20,000 men. Combined with Hanno’s relief force he felt he could drive the Romans away and turn the war around. With that knowledge Hamilcar throughout the last few days motivated his soldiers with words of encouragement.
“Do not worry, men! Carthage will help us drive these accursed Romans across Sicily!” he told his soldiers with his words translated into several languages for his men who ranged from across the world - conscripted Libyans along with mercenaries who heralded from Iberia including fierce Celt-Iberians, Balearic Islanders with their slingers, tough Ligurians, Greeks, runaway slaves formally under Roman masters and deserters who fled from the rigorous armies of the Roman Republic.
As Barca hoped his words would ring true he could see his soldiers looked in the direction behind the general. More of his men stood up and pointed. Hamilcar turned around to see what the fuss was about. Approaching from the south was a man on horseback, his horse kicking up dust trails, as the soldier spurred his horse forward. As the horseman reached the pickets that guarded where the Carthaginians rested he slowed his horse down.
“State your business!” the guard harshly addressed the horseman. The rider looked at the guard and pulled back his cape to indicate he was a officer.
“Speak to me like that, guard,” the horseman hissed menacingly. “And your head will be nailed onto the face of your children where I will take delight in hearing their cries of anguish while I nail the spike into them!”
“So-Sorry sir!” the guard mumbled, as he realized from the officer’s dark eyes through his helmet, indicate he truly meant it.
“My business is with Hamilcar Barca,” the rider explained. “I seek him urgently,”
“He is up the road at the foot of the valley,” the guard pointed. “You cannot miss him,” The rider kicked his horse forward and galloped towards the valley. Hamilcar saw the rider approach towards him and in turn rode out to meet him. The men under his command saw how immaculate the horseman’s armour and helmet was. The difference when comparing the rider’s appearance to Hamilcar's men was stark, as they were ragged and unkempt clearly showing the effects of fighting Rome for several years. When the two men on horseback met each other Hamlicar’s eyes widened in shock at seeing who the rider was.
“Hannibal, son of Azar!” he cried out surprisingly, as they saluted each other before shaking hands. “What is it that brings you here? I thought you were still in Carthage?” Hannibal’s face turned to sadness at his question. He sighed and reached into his pouch slowly in trepidation. Hannibal then brandished a scroll that bore the seal of Carthage and gave it to Hamilcar. He opened it and began to read it aloud:
Hamilcar Barca, I regret to inform that a great battle has been lost upon the sea.
Half of Hanno’s fleet – 120 warships - lie at the bottom of the sea or captured. The Romans spotted the convoy off the Aegates Islands and engaged the fleet. We had no chance. Our ships were heavily encumbered with men, equipment and provisions. Our crews were conscripted from the bottom of the barrel, hastily trained and inexperienced in battle. Most of the supplies lie beneath the ocean and lost forever while what remains of our fleet is scattered.
We have also received word that Lilybaeum has capitulated as well.
Simply put we have had enough. Our resources are scant to construct another fleet or send an expedition to reinforce your men in Sicily, Hamilcar. The suffetts and Tribunal of the Hundred have decided to surrender and sue for peace with Rome.
As sole commander of the armies in Sicily you are to be given full authority to discuss terms for a peace treaty with Rome.
May Ba’al give you strength in these dark times.
Hamilcar dropped the scroll onto the ground with tears streaming down his face, as the cold realization hit him that after over 20 years of war it was all for nothing.
“I am sorry,” Hannibal said consolingly. “You fought well. Were it not for your efforts here in Sicily the war would have ended much sooner,”
“But it was not enough!” the general growled. “The efforts of our generals and admirals were not enough! That fool Hanno butchered our best soldiers when we needed them the most and as a result we now bend our knees to Rome! What honour is that to the mothers of our people who have lost sons and loved ones?”
“Mistakes were made but that is in the past,” Hannibal replied sympathetically. “All we can hope is to negotiate a just peace,” Hamilcar shook his head.
“I will not take part in these negotiations with Rome. I will give it to my second in command Gesgo. Such is my hate for Rome I will likely disgrace myself by striking those flatfooted oafs. Gesgo is a good negotiator and I trust him,” Hannibal nodded.
“As you wish,” he replied. “You are after all been given full powers to conduct the peace treaty in any way that you see fit,”
“Thank you for understanding,” Hamilcar said. The general was nearly overcome with emotion before managing to get his emotions in check. “I will get a guard to show you somewhere you can rest,”
“Where are you going?” Hannibal asked as Hamilcar turned his horse around.
“To tell my men face to face what has happened,” he replied back depressingly. “They deserve that at the very least after all they have been through. As Hannibal watched Barca walk drudgingly towards his men the son of Azar could not help but feel sorry for him.
"Though our hearts may be heavy with defeat," Hannibal said to himself. "At least we can now live in peace after decades of war."
General Rawlinson- This is most unsatisfactory. Where are the Sherwood Foresters? Where are the East Lancashires on the right?
Brigadier-General Oxley- They are lying out in No Man's Land, sir. And most of them will never stand again.
Two high ranking British generals discussing the fortunes of two regiments after the disastrous attack at Aubers Ridge on the 9th May 1915.
Enjoy!
The Mercenary War
*******************************
Hamilcar Barca rode his horse past his soldiers who rested upon the rocky hills to the south of Eryx in Sicily - northwest of the island. The commander of the Carthaginian armies in Sicily sighed when seeing his ragged soldiers rest wearingly on a cloudy mid March morning. His army had been fighting doggedly against the Romans ever since Hamilcar took command of the armies in Sicily six years ago. Despite the raids against Rome on the island his ability to hold the enemy on land with little help had not been matched by his compatriots in the sea.
“May Ba’al curse them for their incompetence!” he snarled to himself causing the horse to neigh while Hamilcar ruefully remembered the punishing naval defeats his people had suffered against Rome. He shuddered what at happened at Economus when the Romans smashed the vast Carthaginian fleet – a people with a navy Hamilcar had dismissed all those years ago when the war started.
These naval defeats strangled the supply and communication lines between Hamilcar's forces in Sicily and his masters at Carthage. To make things worse the port of Drepana to the west of Hamilcar’s position at Eryx had recently fallen merely worsening their supply situation.
“Now all our hopes rest on Hanno,” Hamilcar sighed. He was aware a relief force, laden with supplies and men, was enroute to the besieged city of Lilybaeum - still held out under Hamilcar’s subordinate officer Gesco. If they could get past the Roman blockade and land in Sicily then Barca could relieve Lilybaeum and counter attack with his army of 20,000 men. Combined with Hanno’s relief force he felt he could drive the Romans away and turn the war around. With that knowledge Hamilcar throughout the last few days motivated his soldiers with words of encouragement.
“Do not worry, men! Carthage will help us drive these accursed Romans across Sicily!” he told his soldiers with his words translated into several languages for his men who ranged from across the world - conscripted Libyans along with mercenaries who heralded from Iberia including fierce Celt-Iberians, Balearic Islanders with their slingers, tough Ligurians, Greeks, runaway slaves formally under Roman masters and deserters who fled from the rigorous armies of the Roman Republic.
As Barca hoped his words would ring true he could see his soldiers looked in the direction behind the general. More of his men stood up and pointed. Hamilcar turned around to see what the fuss was about. Approaching from the south was a man on horseback, his horse kicking up dust trails, as the soldier spurred his horse forward. As the horseman reached the pickets that guarded where the Carthaginians rested he slowed his horse down.
“State your business!” the guard harshly addressed the horseman. The rider looked at the guard and pulled back his cape to indicate he was a officer.
“Speak to me like that, guard,” the horseman hissed menacingly. “And your head will be nailed onto the face of your children where I will take delight in hearing their cries of anguish while I nail the spike into them!”
“So-Sorry sir!” the guard mumbled, as he realized from the officer’s dark eyes through his helmet, indicate he truly meant it.
“My business is with Hamilcar Barca,” the rider explained. “I seek him urgently,”
“He is up the road at the foot of the valley,” the guard pointed. “You cannot miss him,” The rider kicked his horse forward and galloped towards the valley. Hamilcar saw the rider approach towards him and in turn rode out to meet him. The men under his command saw how immaculate the horseman’s armour and helmet was. The difference when comparing the rider’s appearance to Hamilcar's men was stark, as they were ragged and unkempt clearly showing the effects of fighting Rome for several years. When the two men on horseback met each other Hamlicar’s eyes widened in shock at seeing who the rider was.
“Hannibal, son of Azar!” he cried out surprisingly, as they saluted each other before shaking hands. “What is it that brings you here? I thought you were still in Carthage?” Hannibal’s face turned to sadness at his question. He sighed and reached into his pouch slowly in trepidation. Hannibal then brandished a scroll that bore the seal of Carthage and gave it to Hamilcar. He opened it and began to read it aloud:
Half of Hanno’s fleet – 120 warships - lie at the bottom of the sea or captured. The Romans spotted the convoy off the Aegates Islands and engaged the fleet. We had no chance. Our ships were heavily encumbered with men, equipment and provisions. Our crews were conscripted from the bottom of the barrel, hastily trained and inexperienced in battle. Most of the supplies lie beneath the ocean and lost forever while what remains of our fleet is scattered.
We have also received word that Lilybaeum has capitulated as well.
Simply put we have had enough. Our resources are scant to construct another fleet or send an expedition to reinforce your men in Sicily, Hamilcar. The suffetts and Tribunal of the Hundred have decided to surrender and sue for peace with Rome.
As sole commander of the armies in Sicily you are to be given full authority to discuss terms for a peace treaty with Rome.
May Ba’al give you strength in these dark times.
Hamilcar dropped the scroll onto the ground with tears streaming down his face, as the cold realization hit him that after over 20 years of war it was all for nothing.
“I am sorry,” Hannibal said consolingly. “You fought well. Were it not for your efforts here in Sicily the war would have ended much sooner,”
“But it was not enough!” the general growled. “The efforts of our generals and admirals were not enough! That fool Hanno butchered our best soldiers when we needed them the most and as a result we now bend our knees to Rome! What honour is that to the mothers of our people who have lost sons and loved ones?”
“Mistakes were made but that is in the past,” Hannibal replied sympathetically. “All we can hope is to negotiate a just peace,” Hamilcar shook his head.
“I will not take part in these negotiations with Rome. I will give it to my second in command Gesgo. Such is my hate for Rome I will likely disgrace myself by striking those flatfooted oafs. Gesgo is a good negotiator and I trust him,” Hannibal nodded.
“As you wish,” he replied. “You are after all been given full powers to conduct the peace treaty in any way that you see fit,”
“Thank you for understanding,” Hamilcar said. The general was nearly overcome with emotion before managing to get his emotions in check. “I will get a guard to show you somewhere you can rest,”
“Where are you going?” Hannibal asked as Hamilcar turned his horse around.
“To tell my men face to face what has happened,” he replied back depressingly. “They deserve that at the very least after all they have been through. As Hannibal watched Barca walk drudgingly towards his men the son of Azar could not help but feel sorry for him.
General Rawlinson- This is most unsatisfactory. Where are the Sherwood Foresters? Where are the East Lancashires on the right?
Brigadier-General Oxley- They are lying out in No Man's Land, sir. And most of them will never stand again.
Two high ranking British generals discussing the fortunes of two regiments after the disastrous attack at Aubers Ridge on the 9th May 1915.
[This message has been edited by Legion Of Hell (edited 02-04-2014 @ 01:05 PM).]