Kairos

Chapter 13

"But he hasn't acted." Varro paced the length of the war tent, talking to himself mostly as I got the wine and food ready for their meeting.

"Does that surprise you?" I asked, wanting to judge how long I had before the killing began to selfishly run away.

"It worries me. Paullus still wishes not to fight, but Hannibal is clever."

"And the soldiers are getting restless, Sir, at dinner the other night there was a whole group complaining about poor leadership and shouting that they wanted to go back to Rome." I cringed at the leadership part, yet Varro simply frowned. Before he could say anything in response, Paullus entered and the rest of the officers followed in quick succession. They immediately started a discussion, and I may or may not have poured the wine very slowly so I could keep listening.

"I've sent twenty-five thousand men across the Aufidius, we can pressurise Hannibal into moving, into movement we want! Taking the river will have boosted the men's confidence and we will be able to pillage food from the surrounding villages," Paullus said.

"You have pressured Hannibal, because his army has marched out of their camp," Varro bent over the map of the area and traced a line with his finger. I carried the wines over and set them on the table in front of the men. Not one of them thanked me, rude.

"They've advanced down to the flat plateau on the ridge to the West of our camp." A legionnaire marked the position he pointed to with a small wooden figurine, shaped like a horse's head. I remembered the founding myth of Carthage involved the digging up of a buried horse's head, which would explain the figurine. Paullus placed another one onto the fortified depot atop Cannae hill.

"He has probably left a garrison to guard Cannae. He's not stupid enough to leave his camp unguarded."

"I agree," Varro nodded, "We should get the legions ready." Paullus held up a hand and Varro's eyes narrowed at the disrespect.

"We will do no such thing. Hannibal is no more a threat than he was when we got here. We still outnumber him greatly and he would be a fool to attack now. Woman!" Oh crap, that's me.

"Yes, Consul?'

"Leave!" Okay okay, geez. I hurried out of the room pushing the cart as fast as it could go.

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I was waiting in the main tent for Varro's daily debrief when footsteps sounded just beyond the tent flaps, multiple footsteps.

I leapt for the dark corner, heart in my throat. Varro entered first and his eyes shot to me and widened. He looked rapidly at the shadows and I understood, stepping further into the tent material.

Several men entered after him and my breath caught as I recognised Paullus, the other consul. Shit shit shit. Varro showed no signs of the panic I felt and gestured to a table on the other side of the tent.

I relaxed slightly, now that they weren't mere metres away. I debated the distance to the tent exit but decided it was too risky. If any one of them turned for a second, they would see me. Anxiety rose within me as I realised that this was a war meeting, one I would be whipped for being caught in without an excuse, like the trolley of refreshments.

I pressed my calloused palm to my mouth to silence any loud breathing. Based on how angry Paullus was when he saw me yesterday, I didn't want a repeat, especially because he would recognise it was me and then I would be in even more trouble for repeating the offence.

"Hannibal has moved out of his camp, he moved in the early hours of the morning," Varro said grimly, announcing the obvious reason for the assembly.

Many of the other men cursed. A leaden weight sunk in my stomach. It meant that the horrific massacre of Cannae was approaching, and I still hadn't found a way to flee or to protect the women and children. Even though that would change fate, I just felt so culpable.