5. Season of the Witch

Etruria

A cloud of dust rose from the wagon as it recklessly sped down the road. Those who saw it coming hurried to get over to the side. One would be crazy to expect a wagon with no horse or driver to stop for you.

It screeched to a halt on the top of a hill. A green and black curtain pulled back and a man flew out.

Drakko the Gaul tumbled over and over in the dust. His cheeks burned under his blue face paint, making the scar glow. He dusted himself off, stood up to speak.

Wham! The curtain had parted again. This time a brawny warrior crashed into Drakko's chest. Down they went.

The warrior brushed back his long blond hair, put his horned helmet back on. There was a smile under his huge moustache. His eyes had an odd gleam.

"Oh, Man! I am in love! The green girl has the black magic! Hey, nonny, nonny!" He strummed the strings of an imaginary lyre. "Yea, verily."

"Do you have to end everything with 'yea, verily'?" Drakko asked his cousin Eddorix as they stood up.

"Yea, verily? Yea, verily."

"Look out!"

They ran to one side as Drakko's fighting band flew out of the wagon into a pile of men and weapons. Then they ran to the other side to avoid the horses.

"Enough of this!" Drakko's anger made him reckless. "My master demands an answer. Will you meet with him?"

The curtain pulled back yet again. This time a pale arm was visible. A golden bracelet in the form of a serpent ran from wrist to elbow. Rings glittered on each finger. Black hair spilled in waves around a perfectly oval face. Green eyes glowed with a fell delight. A patchwork dress of green and black was slit up both sides for freedom of movement. One boot was green, the other black.

A wide girdle circled her waist. The green man adorned its front. A dagger hung from each hip, the hilts shaped like scorpions.

She reached behind the girdle and pulled out a small purse. The right hand opened it as the left one began to glow green. The left hand lifted, and a row of silver coins, far more than that purse should hold, chased each other in a series of merry loops before settling back in. She closed the purse and swung it by the cords, smiling at the merry jingle.

"Let's just say that the first part of his argument is most persuasive. I'm willing to hear the rest."

The Temple of Minerva

Kim was back peddling furiously now. Her mother and Nana were pressing with swords, trying to slip past her guard. The fight at the bridge had been the inspiration for the last few sessions. You can tell that Mother and Nana aren't…

She spun the spear at the last moment. Her mother started as the blunt spearhead was suddenly at her throat. Before Kim had time to smile, she felt Nana's blade rest on her shoulder.

"Better, but still slain." Nana had been especially relentless after hearing the details of the fight with the two Iberians. "You are using both ends of the spear well, now you need to think of attacking the entire body."

She took the spear. Olivia stepped forward and Kim sat to watch. "You still only strike from the waist up." Nana slipped the end on the spear behind Olivia's foot, pulled forward. Olivia rolled to avoid the next attack, sprang up. She lowered her shield to protect her legs. Nana jammed Olivia's sword arm with the spear shaft, then kicked the bottom of her shield into her shin. The spear point was suddenly at the back of Olivia's neck.

"I'll never handle a spear that well, Nana."

"I've had a few years to practice." Nana came over and put her hand over Kim's. "I know that I've been hard on you, but the General's men are even more dangerous than the ones I faced in Sicily all those years ago. I want you to carry only memories, not scars."

Someone came through the door. Dorcas Directoria came over to Olivia, she bowed.

"Diana, daughter of Jupiter and Leto, sends greetings to Minerva, born of Jupiter alone."

"And greetings are returned." Olivia returned the bow. "What brings you out of the woods on such a good night for hunting?"

"I have something for Kimora." She took the quiver off of her back. "Wadeamedes sent me details of the bridge. His javelin was brilliant, but you need more." She pulled out an arrow whose blade was shaped like a crescent moon. Another looked like a 'V'. There were more. Kim had never seen anything like them.

Dorcas's single eye widened as Kim looked over the arrows. "You Romans scarcely use the bow. We Amazons have made it our primary weapon. I can have the artisans of the Temple make as many as you need. I believe you will appreciate their potential."

"Thank you, and the Temple. I shall practice with them…"

"With your companion." Dorcas finished her sentence with a hint of amusement, or was it disapproval?

"Yes. Ronicus, as you implied, is not yet proficient with the bow."

"I hear that last time he managed to pin his sandal to the floor, with his foot in it."

"That's why the chariot only has one bow."

Dorcas smiled; a rare sight. "Rome is singing the praises of their new hero. Just remember that it is you, not Ronicus, who is the factor that has brought Rome victory."

"I would be nothing without my friend." Kim wrapped up the quiver. "I must go now."

Out on the streets, Kim felt hungry. She went up to a fig vendor. The peddler was a boy, probably Egyptian. His pudgy face lit up as she came over.

"Hello, Kimora."

"Hello, Lodi. I'll take a few figs, and a cup of water." She handed him the money.

"Here you go." He gave her the figs and cup, looked around to make sure no one else could hear.

"The General has set up in Campania. We have no idea what he's up to right now. He may be waiting for reinforcements."

"With our navy controlling the waters around Italy? Besides, his own people have barely lifted a finger to help him."

"It's a big war. They have armies all over that need help. The General's paying the price of success." Lodi shrugged.

"Even when he's in the dark Wadeamedes seems to know everything." Kim marveled. "Have you ever seen him, Lodi?"

Lodi looked away. "I've never met him face to face."

"If you ever do, please tell him how much I owe him. I couldn't do this without him."

"Oh, I think he knows."

The General's Camp

The soldiers lined the road leading to the camp. Every piece of metal was polished. Uniforms were clean. It was a day of great significance; the General was expecting a most important guest.

The dust followed Drakko and his war band. The weird wagon rumbled behind them. They passed the ranks of soldiers to come to the large tent at the center of the camp. An honor guard of Libyans snapped to attention as the General emerged.

His tunic and cloak were purple. He wore his parade armor, a bronze breast plate bearing the family crest; a lion stalking beneath a palm tree. His helmet was also in the form of a lion's head, with purple plumes on both sides. A wide bronze belt circled his waist. The strap of his scabbard hung from his right shoulder. The sword was the straight Iberian model.

The General was a man in his prime. His skin was deeply tanned, the features regular and strong. His black hair was short with a slight curl. The full beard was neatly trimmed. The right eye glinted with intelligence and sardonic humor. The left one hid from the world behind a patch.

He nodded to Senioris as Drakko pulled up and called for his war band to halt. "It looks like I win the bet, Senioris, he did come back. Double, since Eddorix made it also."

Drakko dismounted and saluted his General. He motioned to the wagon as the curtain parted and the occupant stepped out

"Master, I present to you Shegovia, Witch of Liguria."

The General bowed.

"Shegovia, I give you my Master, Hannibal Barca, General of Carthage. Son of the great Hamilcar. Victor of the Trebia, Victor of Lake Trasimene, V…"

"Victor, Victor, Bravo." Shegovia sauntered over to Hannibal, her hands behind her back. She brought one forward. It had a coin in it. She compared its profile to his.

"Prettier than advertised. The beard is an improvement." She held out her hand.

"Enchanted." Hannibal kissed it. "I trust your journey was pleasant. Was the escort acceptable?"

"Oh, you know Gauls. Once you get their attention, they're manageable. Now, I believe that you had some business you wanted to discuss?"

"Direct aren't we? I find camp to be a disagreeable place to conduct business: too much noise and distraction. Do you like calamari? I know a great place in Capua."

"A little late for reservations, isn't it?"

"They don't give me my table, I burn the city."

"I like how you negotiate: from strength." She ran an appreciative hand up his sword arm. "I love sea food."

Hannibal smiled. "Senioris, have Surus prepared. Luxury tower."

"At once, General." He turned to Shegovia and bowed. "You will adore the rich Corinthian leather."

Shegovia nodded to Senioris, turned to Hannibal. "Since that will take a while, I believe I'll go and slip into something a little more…bewitching."

Rome

It was late at the Villa Possibilla. Kim was slipping down the hall to the fountain. She heard her parents talking. Normally she would have gone on, but she heard her name.

"Dear, I think you're being hasty…"

"These things don't wait, Olivia. Now I have a list, and I think you and I should go over it before we talk with her. This is far too important to delay any longer."

"But she's still so young."

"Sixteen is not a little girl, as much as it pains me to say. Still, you are right. We'll talk about it ourselves for a while longer. But we will not put this off."

Kim got her drink. She returned to her bed, but sleep refused to return to her.

Capua

Another empty wine jug sailed out the window, crashed onto the street below.

"OOPAH!" Shegovia shouted, then returned to her story. "…and so Hegovis says the gods must have given us these powers for a reason. He wants us to unite all the poor, ignorant villages into a great nation. So I figure, why not? Today Liguria, tomorrow the world!"

Her smile faltered. "You know what you get when you unite a lot of poor, ignorant villages? A lot of poor, ignorant villagers. At least until you go over the next hill, then they're off feuding with each other again. Didn't take me long to say 'enough of this'! I went on the road. There's a lot of money out there for a girl with the right skills."

"Now, tell me about yourself. Why are you here? What's a nice general like you doing in a war like this?"

"Family, I guess." Hannibal smiled as he poured more wine. "Dad had a grudge with Rome, and passed it down. I'm here, Has' is in Iberia commanding there. Mago has been helping him there lately, though I have him on an errand in Africa right now."

"I never thought we'd still be here. The plan was simple. Cross the Alps and surprise them. It did. Pit my smarts against their arrogance. That worked. Whip them in the field. We did. I've beaten them up one of Italy and down the other, and still they won't negotiate!"

"I don't want much, just a return to the way things were at the end of Dad's War. Sardinia and Corsica should be ours. Rome stole them, they must return them. And Rome has no business in Iberia, they even signed on that! What's wrong with going back?"

Shegovia shook her head. "One thing I've learned is that you can't bo gack …" she blinked, "go back. Life heads in one direction." She raised her arm to point forward, and almost lost fell off her couch.

"Wow! Campanian wine has a kick! Waiter, another jug! OOPAH!"

"You're wise, especially for one so—young. I need someone like you in my organization, someone who looks ahead. What do you say, Shegovia, do we have a deal?"

Shegovia rested her chin on her hands, looked up at Hannibal with dreamy eyes.

"Tell you what, Hannibal Babe-ca. You keep the wine and sweet words flowing, and you might get a little more."

notes

Dad's War...the First Punic War. You may have guessed that it was also Nana Possibillis's war.

Has'--Hasdrubal, brother of Hannibal. Can't believe the Carthaginians wouldn't have used nicknames for siblings.