Kim Possible and related characters are the property of Walt Disney Studios. Hannibal Barca stands among the greats of history, owned by no one.

This tale is cheerfully anachronistic, just like me. Some care has been given to dates, events, and mindsets, but don't expect any history lesson. It's also my first extended story, so bear with me.

RONICUS AD PORTA

The Best Laid Plans

Somewhere in Latium, 212 B.C.

The riders reached the top of the hill just before dawn. They had ridden the last few miles at night, to hide their dust cloud from any observer. Despite their contempt for the enemy, they were only thirty among armies. It was imperative that they complete their mission and return. Their armor had been left in camp in the interest of speed. Only the leader wore a helmet. Small shields were the others' only defense. Weapons were another matter. Each carried a few javelins, a lance slung over a shoulder, and a wicked slashing sword.

The leader peered into the sunrise. His gray hair and weathered face revealed his veteran status. He was much older than his men, but there was no weakness in his hands, or in his steely blue eyes. A hulking warrior with those same eyes rode up beside him.

"What do you see, Father?"

"Victory, Junuris." Senioris smiled. "The General is right as always. We go back to tell him that we march today, and will be in Rome tomorrow."

Rome

It was early morning at Villa Possibilla. Kimora Possibillis sat at her dresser, combing her red hair. The brass mirror gave her a nearly reliable reflection. Today was a school day, and more than that, it was cadet class. She finally had permission to attend. Having a Senator for a Father did have some advantages.

"Hey, Sis." Jimulous and Temus were at the door. "We have a question. When Father has to pay the Spinster Tax on you, will it come out of your allowance?"

"Dweebini!" she hissed, throwing her comb at them as they ran off laughing. At least Father and Mother were not constantly hounding her. Nana Possibillis would ask about the boys at school from time to time. A gentle hint.

There were a few. Brickus Flaggio, of course. Tall, strong, head of the cadet class. But Bonillia Rockwallerus had her trident in him. Joshua Mankabee, an exchange student from the east, was handsome and artistic. That made him suspect to Father, but she found that intriguing. And there was Ronicus.

He would be over soon. Breakfast came early at the Stopabullus house, and there was time to squeeze in another at the Possibilli. How he stayed so slim was beyond her. They had known each other for what seemed forever. In a way it was.

"Kimmicubus, come to breakfast."

"Coming, Father."

She walked down the hallway, checking this way and that for twin traps. This was too big a day to let them dump something on her best dress.

Everyone was at the table. Father was going on about something.

"We're expecting it to be the biggest disturbance since the last 'Oh, Boiis' concert. Kids these days are just…Kimmicubus!"

"Good morning, Father." Kim kissed him on the cheek. "A busy day, today?"

"Just the usual. Wars, rumors of war, and kids not respecting the old ways. Speaking of old ways, before Ronicus gets here we'd like to talk about your future. Boys, why don't you…"

A servant came to the table. "Ronicus Stoppabullus is here, as always."

"Hey, Possibilli." Ronicus bounced in. The usual smile was on his freckled face, and in his light brown eyes. A small white mouse stuck his head out of a fold in his tunic.

"Ave!" Ruffio squeaked.

"Ronicus, what a surprise." Father Possibillis said dryly. "Will you please join us for breakfast?"

"Thanks, Senator P. Gonna need a lot of energy. It's cadet class today, complete with field training."

"Ah, I remember cadet class." Father waxed nostalgic. "The long marches with a double weight kit, the hot sun, instructors trying to kill you. Good times!"

"We have a little more class time now." Ronicus answered. "New training for new challenges."

Father frowned. "Sounds Greek to me. A little more application, a few more legions, and problems solved." He picked up his cane, stood up. "It's off to the Senate. Carthago isn't going to delenda est itself. Goodbye, Olivia."

"Goodbye, Caius." Mother Possibillis replied with a kiss. The Priestess of Minerva looked over the table. "I've got a big day, too. A major sacrifice, a few auguries; it's the busy season, now that the armies are moving again."

She turned to the twins. "Jimulous, Temus, be dears and unload the ballista you have at the door. Kimmie has a big day today."

"Yes, Mother." They moaned in unison. "How did you know?"

"Minerva is more than the goddess of strategy. She's also the goddess of the household arts. Protecting big sisters from attack falls under both specialties."

The General's Camp

"All goes according to plan. The equipment is in place, the men on the march."

The General nodded at Senioris's assessment. Long lines of men moved down the road toward Rome. Faces were eager and confident of victory.

"I have to check in on the assault on Neapolis. I may be late for the battle. Not that there should be one. We've decoyed their legions to defend Ostia, south of Rome. No one is looking to defend the north. Senioris, I leave you in charge. If all goes well, I'll see you in Rome tomorrow evening."

"As you command, General. Nothing can stop us now."

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Author's notes. (ok, I can't resist explaining a couple)

Ronicus ad Porta—Ronicus at the Gates

Spinster Tax--Apparently the Republic had one, to help pay for the cavalry.

Boii—a Gallic tribe in northern Italy, they were good at making disturbances.

"Delenda est Carthago"-- Carthage is to be destroyed. The second most famous Latin phrase.