Lilybaeum

Chapter 6

Amellius breathed in the fresh sea scented air that drifted over the Sicilian beaches, to the balcony of his sumptuous villa, his loose toga swayed in the nonchalant breeze. Four summer weeks had passed since the execution of the criminal and Amellius had settled into the routine of life in Sicily, all seemed calm but there was a tension in the air and in the people it was just waiting to burst out. This would put many people on edge but not Amellius, he knew that in the position they were he had to stay focused and maintain Sicily as if there was no threat, as not to frighten and worry the people. The olive trees rustled as the beautiful full moon rose up ahead making the quinqueremes and triremes seem ghostly as they were buffeted gently by the shimmering swell of the sea. Amellius smiled as he closed his eyes to enjoy the peace and silence that fell at night in Sicily. He was glad to be away from Rome, the old men of the senate were too far to be heard, as they endlessly drone without ever coming to a solution on how to destroy the great threat which was Carthage. A horse galloped in the distance as he stepped lightly into the garden, which only showed a fraction of its beauty that it showed in day, but striking none the less. Crickets chirped calmly in the equilibrium that was night, Amellius sighed as he lowered himself onto the couch and closed his eyes as the faint colours washed into darkness, and the sounds became dull as all he could hear was the crashing waves from the sea below.

Centurion Saturnius charged the stallion up the hill towards the Praetor’s villa, trees and shadows flashed past as he considered the urgency of his message. He cantered over a small bridge that stood above a minor stream; small fish swam in the pale moonlight as Saturnius continued his ascent. Sheep calmly bleated in the fields as the cool evening breeze washed over them, torches flickered through open windows like fireflies dancing in the night. He galloped past several villas before the Praetor’s came into sight, as he neared the gate his horse suddenly stumbled and tripped. Its piercing shriek cut through the calm night, Saturnius yelled as he was thrown from the saddle into the stone wall surrounding the villa. He felt a burning pain in his head and a wet feeling going down his face before he collapsed into a mental abyss.

Amellius’ eyes snapped open as his calm night was ripped apart by noise; he stood quickly picking up his sheathed gladius and ran off towards the gate.

Saturnius opened his left eye weakly and cried out as the fuzzy shapes swam into view; an old bearded man stood over him bandaging the right side of his face, next to him stood a strongly built man wearing an intensely white toga with the unmistakeable purple stripe that symbolised a member of the senate. The room smelled exceptionally clean, and the bare white walls shone as the pale moonlight reflected off their smooth silken surface. He fought to sit up as a bout of dizziness sent the world spinning, soon he recognised the man in the toga as the Praetor. Then he remembered his message.

Amellius grinned as he stood on the prow of his flagship, impressed at the way they had been able to find out about the Carthaginian fleet heading their way. The ship stood proud and tall above the waves that buffeted against the ship’s solid bulk, the fresh timber let off a clean scent that only a new ship could provide. Sailors ran about on the deck tightening knots ready for the coming battle, a young boy nimbly climbed the mast and sat on the top platform looking out to sea. The only way it could have been quicker was if Centurion Saturnius hadn’t managed to hit a wall, he looked at the man and saw the jagged line of stitches that had etched their way down the right side of the man’s face, Saturnius was a fair fighter but he was no horse rider for sure, Amellius chuckled at the thought. He looked back at the other ships in the fleet and the splendour of their perfect wedge formation, the flagship The Invicta led the formation its prowess and strength inspiring all those around her. Her three hundred galley slaves grunted below as they heaved on the oars, with the occasional lash of the whip cutting through the sound of the waves. Sicily gradually became smaller in the distance as small lights that must have been houses looked like pinpricks in the gloom. The steady beat of the drum that signalled to the slaves to row seemed to mimic his heart beat but it could just have been his imagination.

 The prows of the quinqueremes and triremes cut through the water like blades leaving behind a faint froth; gulls wheeled and dived overhead as their shrill calls whined around them. The light of dawn crept over the horizon and briefly left the sky red; much like the waters would become in the hours that will follow thought Amellius. A call came from the lookout on the mast of the mainsail; the enemy fleet had been sighted. Amellius knew that this would be a hard battle, they were outnumbered but the enemy were undermanned, so the odds ought to even out. He signalled Centurion Saturnius to ready the men, the Centurion followed out the order without a second thought and the legionaries and marines soon formed up on the deck. The signal went out to the other nineteen ships and men formed up on every deck, now they were ready.