Elise Britten
Sample of Work
Historical Fiction
The Night of a Thousand Lights
(December 2014)
Please note that although this story is inspired by historical accounts, details have been altered for the sake of the story.
The candles flickered on the altar; their heady scent filling Hannibal’s senses. Although the flames did little to combat the vast darkness of the cavernous temple, the intermittent light illuminated the statue of Baal. Hannibal quivered under the King of the God’s intense gaze. The constant chanting of the priests echoed in his ears. His father had been very sombre bringing him here, and now in the ethereal atmosphere of the temple, the boy’s anxiety reigned. He watched as his father performed the sacrifice and poured the libation; longing for the ceremony to be over. Finally, the ritual was completed and Hamilcar called his son to his side.
“Son, do you wish to come with me?”
Relief coursed through Hannibal’s body as he fervently expressed his desire to follow his father on his expeditions. The full weight of his commitment fell upon him as he lay his hand with his father’s on the altar and vowed “I will never be the friend of the Romans.”
A sharp slap on his back snapped Hannibal out of his reverie.
“Ah, Hasdrubal, there you are!”
It had been a great many years since he had stood beside his late father as a 9 year-old boy, yet here he was still living in the legacy of that moment with his brother by his side. In the most difficult of circumstances, when the powers that reigned in Carthage left them to their fate, they had stood firm and found a way to triumph.
Yet this was no time for Hannibal to dwell on his brotherly bond. The situation was once again looking grim. They were trapped in a valley, hemmed in by Roman forces blocking their path out of the plain.
“The scouts have checked the entire perimeter Hannibal, there is no way out. We must engage them in battle before they slaughter us all in our sleep!”
Hannibal slowly shook his head, he knew their enemy better than that, “Remain on the alert, but we do not fight tonight.”
Hasdrubal snorted at Hannibal, “Brother, I have followed you into many great battles, and I have borne witness to your great flexibility of mind that has shown cunning in the darkest of times. But even you must see, there is only one way out and that is to slash our way through the enemy with our swords.”
Alone in his tent Hannibal paced considering his situation. ‘Fabius Maximus,’ Hannibal mused to himself, how aptly he was praised as ‘the delayer’; a title which had once been an insult. ‘No, you will not come to me, you will wait until we starve and rot before dragging our bones back to Rome.’
*****
Fabius dined in his quarters with his most trusted men. He was a content man indeed. He had watched as reckless consuls had engaged Hannibal in direct battle, confident of their superior numbers and support. He had also watched as one after the other these ignorant men of politics had their armies demolished. Fabius knew Hannibal would receive no reinforcements. Now it was his pleasure to watch, for this time it would be whilst Hannibal’s army starved!
“Minucius, I believe that you are a man of my ideals and a keen observer of my tactics. I am entrusting you to preside over my legion on the other side of the pass.”
“You do me a great honour Fabius.”
“Ahh yes, but I am afraid we must forgo the traditional honours of war and let our enemy destroy himself. Now be off at once! You are much needed to steady my men.”
*****
Yet Hannibal was not ready to admit defeat; he had forged a plan he thought might just work. He burst into Hasdrubal’s tent, “Have the men gather all our oxen; every last one. Also gather all the sticks and wood in our campsite. We have a big night ahead of us!”
Bewildered, Hasdrubal slipped away from the girl warming his bed, “Are you quite alright Hannibal? It is hardly the time for feasting!”
As Hannibal explained his plan, Hasdrubal became increasingly incredulous, “The gods above my brother! You have outdone yourself this time.”
A few hours before dawn, Hannibal’s army roused themselves and began to prepare.
Once again Hasdrubal approached the General, his face grave. “The men are worried Hannibal. They have followed you faithfully for years, but they are weary of war and this latest plan is bizarre even for you.”
Hannibal placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder, “Fear not, I trust my men. They will rally and they will overcome.”
Hannibal appeared before his army. He did not say a lot, he did not need to. He stood strong and proud with his good eye piercing the men with its steely gaze. His eye patch and scars stood testament to his many years of combat. He was not some distant figurehead, he was one of them.
“My friends… we have spent our lives crushing the Romans; at Ticinus, at Trebia, at Lake Tresimene. Today we do not concede. We escape this snare to crush the Romans another day!”
*****
Minucius’ candle dipped slightly, filling him with a disproportionate sense of unease. ‘I am not at all comfortable with the burden that Fabius has bestowed on me,’ he thought. Minucius felt the ground beneath his feet slightly tremble. ‘By Jupiter! What horror is upon us?!’
*****
Fabius was jolted awake as somebody shook his shoulder. He jumped up at the ready “Who goes there?!”
The shadowy figure just urged, “My general, you must come at once!”
A thousand torches trailed up the pass opposite Fabius’ camp, breaking the darkness of the night. The Carthaginian army was moving out. Fabius’ men were running about making ready for battle.
“We stay where we are!” Fabius declared.
His advisers stared at him astounded. “You can’t just let him get away! This is your mortal enemy. The man you have waited patiently for your time to destroy.”
The consul shook his head fervently. “Don’t you see?! We cannot engage Hannibal on his terms. I will not be responsible for the destruction of another Roman army.”
*****
However, Minucius who faced these oncoming lights had none of the certainty of Fabius. ‘Surely,’ he thought, ‘surely now Fabius would have us move to prevent their escape.’ Left to their own designs, the men broke away from their post and surged forward to engage Hannibal’s men. Yet, the flames scattered before them and the scene fell into disarray. The lines of the legion were torn apart as Fabius’ men were met with the most surreal sight. Thousands of oxen ran wildly about them; their frenzied eyes dancing and flanks trembling as burning twigs that were entangled in their horns, burnt down towards their heads. The screams of men joined the cries of the animals in the smoky air, as horns pervaded their flesh and the heaving mass of animals stamped them into the dust. The Carthaginian spears were almost superfluous to the bizarre battle.
All the while, the majority of the Carthaginian army and their wagons passed through the pass unscathed; leaving through the deserted post of Minucius’ force. Hannibal had tricked the Romans once again.
*****
As dawn broke, Fabius looked over the desolate scene; of the dead and of the dismayed. His men had not been killed through his actions, but he knew the Senate and people of Rome would not excuse him for Hannibal’s escape. ‘Ah Hannibal’ he thought with a sigh, ‘every man falls one day.’
*****
Hannibal moved through the land victorious, reaping destruction. His men burned entire estates, knowing that the anger would fall upon Fabius and crush a dangerous enemy without the pitched battle he avoided. Yet Hannibal knew the value of restraint. “Not this land. This estate we leave alone.”
*****
Fabius travelled through the desolation, his heart heavy as he passed endless scorched fields and ravaged towns. ‘This is all going to fall on my shoulders,’ he thought. Suddenly the consul stopped dead in his tracks and stared in disbelief. “You cunning bastard,” he laughed out of pure shock. In front of him stood pristine land; an entirely untouched estate. His untouched estate. Fabius mused on the dire reality of his situation, ‘This overlooked land, will not be overlooked by my fellow Romans.’
*****
Hannibal stood against the backdrop of flames that lit up the night sky and gazed upon his new camp. Should anyone chance upon this vision, even the bravest of enemies would quake at the proud stance of the one-eyed general in the sinister light. He threw his head back and laughed. ‘The great and mighty Rome indeed!’ he thought to himself, ‘if only father could see the Romans now’.
But Hannibal of all people should know not to underestimate his enemy. The approach of horses disturbed his contemplation.
A messenger halted before him, shaking in his saddle. “Rome sends its greetings,” he stuttered and emptied a bag upon the floor.
With a heavy thud, a bloodied head rolled towards Hannibal. Staring up at him were the glazed eyes of his dearest brother. Hannibal’s blood turned to ice. With a great guttural roar he sliced through the messenger. Hannibal’s pain was masked by an overwhelming anger. He made another vow to himself, ‘Rome will pay with the blood of thousands!’
If this brutality was intended to crush Hannibal’s fighting spirit, it was misguided. The murder of Hasdrubal merely infused him with an animalistic vigour. The words of his father echoed throughout time and became a permanent mantra that danced in his head, ‘I will never be the friend of the Romans.’ Rome’s destruction was Hannibal’s obsession and he knew he was capable of the task.
But the gods laugh at the plans of men. Fabius’ words ring true, “every man falls one day”… even those that seem indestructible. If Hannibal could have seen his fate, would he have changed his path? Could he have changed the course of history?
See related portrait on Hannibal
See also popular history