Salvatoria: The Memoirs of Lucretia Aurelia

ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ ᙭ᐯIII: ᖴᗩᒪᒪ Oᖴ TᕼE ᗪEᔕEᖇT KIᑎG

May 12, 48 B.C

Tiddis, Kingdom of Numidia

After the sudden destruction of Varus' army, the Optimate presence in Africa was reduced to nil. Combined with Caesar's victory in Hispania, the war was going excellently. He initially wanted me to attend the Greek campaign with him, but the folly of Curio forced him to keep me in Africa. So while Caesar and Pompey chased each other down, I handled what was essentially my own province. I gave my husband a proper burial, and wished him off. The soldiers said that a commander expressing tears and weakness was necessary sometimes - woman or not. It made them view me as human.

After knocking out the Optimates, I pursued Juba into Numidia. I left one legion to guard Utica and the Castra Cornelia, and followed the vengeance burning in my heart. The march took many weeks, and Juba wasn't interested in giving battle. So I began sparking a response from his officers.

I entered the Numidian capital of Cirta in late April, burned it to the ground, and kidnapped his infant son. This act forced Juba to turn and fight - lest his great royal army mutiny and his generals kill him for cowardice. I lured them to Tiddis, northwest of Cirta, where I made camp on high ground and waited.

Two days later, Juba arrived and made camp on the plains below, and we began playing a game of cat and mouse. As much as I dreamed he would, Juba was a good commander, and wouldn't attack my position on the heights. His army was large, but mostly cavalry and light infantry. He wanted me to fight on the plains where his famed horsemen would do their job. Of course, my current command situation was ideal. It was just me, myself, and I. I didn't have Curio blabbing in my ear trying to get me to attack when and where I did not want to. Finally, on May 12, I relented and accepted invitation to battle. I positioned my seventh legion on the heights, to guard the camp, and protect my archers. The fourteenth and ninth legions formed up for battle opposite to the Numidians.

This was the climactic engagement I had been craving for months. If I won, I would avenge the death of Marcus. So, there was an oddly spiritual feeling in me as the sun rose over the arid plains of Numidia, casting its golden light upon the armies gathered for battle. While on one side were my legions, veterans from Gaul and Britain, opposing us was the formidable force of King Juba, his warriors mounted on swift horses and accompanied by a fearsome contingent of war elephants. Numidians were not to be underestimated. These were the same people who helped Hannibal crush Rome at Ticinus, Trasimene - and Cannae. They were, by realistic standards, one of the primary reasons Rome vanquished Hannibal at Zama.

I surveyed my ranks, my white stallion standing out in the sun. Opposite I could see Juba in one of his mighty war elephants. He, like me, observed and gathered initial information on my forces at play. I had, as per typical arrangement, placed my infantry in the center, and my cavalry on the flanks.

Suddenly, with a fierce cry, he signaled for his warriors to advance, the thunderous hoofbeats of their steeds heralding the beginning of the battle. The Numidian cavalry surged forward with unparalleled speed, their mounted archers unleashing a volley of arrows that rained down upon the Roman ranks like a deadly hailstorm. Yet the disciplined legionaries stood firm, their shields locked in a solid wall of defense as they braced themselves for the onslaught.

I signaled to the commander of the twelfth legion on the hill, who ordered the archers to fire. Combined with the infantry hurling javelins we successfully broke up the initial cavalry charge as the Numidian elephants lumbered into battle. Juba called off his cavalry to turn back and regroup - which meant my little countertactic was effective. The commander of the twelfth noticed too, and we got a rhythm going.

For the next few hours the initial phase of battle played like a loop. The Numidian cavalry would charge, which would then be disrupted by my archers and javelins, before looping back. It was clear Juba was trying to exhaust my men, which was a fine move. So at noon when the cavalry came rampaging towards our position I gave an order.

"Forward march!"

The legions rumbled forward, shocking the enemy cavalry, who was unable to divert course. They slammed into my line as a disorganized mess not meant to fight in melee. The front force was destroyed as I ordered an assault deep into the heart of the Numidian force. With precision and determination, the Romans pressed forward, their gladius swords flashing in the sunlight as they engaged the Numidian warriors in fierce hand-to-hand combat.

They appeared to begin to falter before Juba himself entered the fray atop one of his fearsome elephants. Even with the tide turning, Juba hoped to flip the script and force a retreat. We used trumpets to scare the elephants, and archers firing on them terrified the beasts who turned and fled. Juba, we learned, could not control nature. He lost control of his elephant, who practically jumped into the air. Juba was thrown from his box and crashed into the ground. Then-

"The King has fallen!"

"The King is dead!"

The Numidian lines became disorganized. With their leader slain and their ranks in disarray, the Numidian forces began to falter, their once-mighty army collapsing before the relentless advance of the legions. In a final, desperate bid for victory, they fought on with a fury born of desperation, but it was all in vain. Within the hour, the battle concluded, and I stood victorious.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded away, the field lay strewn with the fallen, a silent testament to the cost of conquest. Yet amidst the carnage, the crimson banners of Rome fluttered proudly in the breeze, their victory secured through blood, sweat, and sacrifice. I looked up at the sky, threw my arms into the air and yelled:

"I HAVE AVENGED THEE, MARCUS CRASSUS THE YOUNGER!"