Masters of the Sea - Master of Rome Read Online Free PDF Page A

before, taking residence in the walled city of Agrigentum on the southern coast. From there he had sought to take command of the war in Sicily, to carve out a victory that would rival his predecessor’s triumph at Cape Ecnomus; but the enemy had withdrawn their naval forces south to Carthage and Paullus lacked the legionary army necessary to take the fight to the Carthaginians on land. He had led skirmishes to Panormus and Lilybaeum, the two main Carthaginian-held ports of Sicily, hoping to take the fight to the enemy, but his minor vic tor ies only served to deepen his frustration.
    All eyes in Rome were on the conflict in Africa. There lay the glory, but Regulus had persistently evaded all efforts to recall him to Rome, his victories at Ecnomus and Adys giving him considerable support in the Senate, so he had maintained his position as commander of the expeditionary force. With defeat in Tunis, however, that command was no more, and Paullus couldn’t suppress his rising anticipation. When news of Regulus’s defeat had arrived from a supply ship that had escaped the harbour of Tunis, Paullus had immediately assembled the fleet to sail west, eager to take full advantage of his restored mandate.
    Paullus made his way slowly to the aft-deck, surreptitiously watching the crew at work as he went, their frantic pace at odds with the consul’s unhurried movements. The consul had never before been on a galley sailing to Sicily but, over the previous months, he had learned all that was necessary to command a fleet, his two victorious skirmishes against the enemy confirming his belief in his natural ability to lead.
    Paullus turned to look out over the length of the Concordia as he reached the aft-deck. The mainsail was taut against the rigging and, beyond that, the corvus boarding ramp stood poised. He breathed in the warm crosswind and looked across the deck. The junior consul, Servius Fulvius Paetinus Nobilior, was standing by the tiller and he nodded at Paullus, the senior consul returning the gesture before turning once more to the sea ahead, his mind already focused on his plan of attack once he reached Aspis. Audacity was the key to victory, and Paullus smiled as he imagined the fear that would sweep across the sea-lanes as news of his arrival spread.
    The horizon before the Concordia darkened, a shoreline came slowly into view, and the call of land sighted echoed across the fleet. Paullus moved quickly to the foredeck, giving himself an uninterrupted view of the seascape and the shoreline beyond. A flicker of colour caught his eye and he focused on the intermittent movement. The crosswind caused his eyes to water and he rubbed them irritably. He saw them again, flashes of vibrant colours, stark against the dark shoreline, and he suddenly understood what he was seeing, the vivid masthead banners whipping furiously in the wind, their number growing with each oar stroke the Concordia took to narrow the distance. An instant later the lookout’s call confirmed his sighting.
    ‘Enemy galleys, dead ahead!’
    ‘Number and heading,’ Hamilcar roared as he ran the length of the Alissar .
    ‘At least three hundred,’ the lookout called. ‘Heading due west, directly for us.’
    Hamilcar stopped as he came to the aft-deck and looked east to the approaching galleys. But for their masthead banners they could be Carthaginian ships, their design a copy of the galleys constructed by the master shipbuilders of Carthage, and Hamilcar cursed the sight. He looked over his shoulder to the inner harbour of Aspis and the forty Roman galleys that still faced him defiantly.
    The deadline he had imposed was but hours away, and he reproached Tanit for her fickle nature. Many times during the preceding night he had been tempted to retract his proposal and order a full attack. He knew that tactically it would be a mistake, but his honour demanded a measure of retribution for the defeat inflicted on him and his men at Ecnomus. The Alissar had been