Lilybaeum

Chapter 8

The ships nearest the back of the Carthaginian fleet started to turn and rout, the eminent threat that faced them seemed too much for the Carthaginians to cope with. Slowly almost all the ships in the Carthaginian fleet turned and fled, but as they did so over the horizon came the five ships Amellius had sent round to flank the enemy. They rammed the sides of two Carthaginian ships sending the men on deck reeling. The Carthaginians looked terrified by the sudden attack and they started to jump for the deck and into the sea, each one sending up a glittering spray as the hit the water. The Captain of one of the enemy ships signalled all of the archers around him and ordered them to fire, as they did so they did so they dipped their arrows in burning tar. The flaming arrows arced through the air and landed on the deck, upper platforms, rigging and sails of a particularly seasoned vessel of the Roman fleet, the effect was instant and fed by the breeze the fire built and grew into an inferno that covered the masts and deck of the Roman ship. The legionnaires quickly stripped themselves of armour and weapons and hurled themselves off the ship in attempt to save themselves. Each legionary leaving a spray as they hit the water, many tried to reach the flotsam that trailed in the wake of the burning ship.

“Send out the rowing boats and get those men out of the water” Amellius roared, furious at what had just happened. The sailors nearest to him saluted and hurried to lose the rowing boats from their positions on deck.

The galley slaves on the burning ship screeched as the flames neared them and immediate panic erupted, the slaves were crawling over each other to escape the raging conflagration that pursued them from behind. The blazing ship began to list and the slaves all began to slide towards the leaning direction of the vessel, more of the slaves were crushed and they contributed the inevitable listing of the ship. Barrels and amphorae cascaded down onto the mass of people adding to the chaos that seemed to consume every man left in the burning hull.

Saturnius’ eyes were suddenly drawn to the figure of a lookout on the mast of the burning ship. The man was in an impossible position, he either waited for the flames to reach him or he would have to make the risky jump into the sea. To make matters worse the flames started to race up the mast towards him. The seconds spent watching the man felt like hours, the man started to scream as the flames reached the platform he was on. The man regained his composure and hurled himself from the platform. But his jump was not far enough and instead of landing in the sea his head smashed onto the solid oak rail that surrounded the deck of the ship.

The wet crack from the man’s skull made Saturnius wince, what a terrible way to go he thought, but at least it was quicker than burning alive would have been.

The remaining ships of the Carthaginian fleet were retreating at full sail, their oarsmen working through exhaustion to get away from their enemy. Amellius spat on the deck of the captured in frustration as he watched the Carthaginian slip from his grasp. But at least he had wounded them; maybe it would prevent their next attack. He spat on the deck again, he doubted it the Carthaginians never seemed to give up. The only way this war would end properly was if they completely destroyed Carthage and all her peoples, there was only room for one almighty City in the Mediterranean and it was Rome’s place and no one would be able to stop them. Eventually Carthage would add to the list of conquered nations that had stood against them. Amellius when he thought of seeing Gaul on the list, his least favourite people, he could stand the stuck-up Greeks and the rest but the hairy, untrustworthy and barbaric Gauls deserved what Amellius knew would get them eventually. Rome would not be forever confined to the Mediterranean, maybe one day they would have and Empire the size of Alexander’s. He shunned the thought, even if it happened he wouldn’t be alive to see it, there is not point on dwelling on things he would never see.

The last sails of the Carthaginian navy melted across the horizon, they would be back, and it was unlike them to run completely from a fight. But when they returned was another matter, so the fleet would have to be on almost constantly on patrol. Several of the men shouted and jeered at the fleeing ships but they were quickly silenced by their superiors.

The burning ship gave an almighty gasp before the water flooded her hull and she was dragged down, her deck started to splinter and slivers of wood were sent spinning into the sea. Only the prow stood above water, as if in a final salute before that too edged into the murky darkness below. The rowing boats pulled men from the water, most had survived bust several floated face down, buffeting gently against the flotsam their sodden tunics clinging to the carcasses. Birds circled above waiting to have their pick of the dead, as dark shapes moved under the water gliding towards the cadavers.

Amellius signalled to the conicerns to sound the retreat, the noise echoed over the fleet and each ship turned clockwise until the entire fleet was slowly heading back to the harbour at Lilybaeum. The legionaries who had jumped into the sea stood shivering against the barriers on the deck, water dripping from their sodden clothing that clung to their bodies, the water pooled around their sandaled feet not unlike the blood that had pooled there earlier.

The captured ships lay in tow their old crews kneeling on deck glaring up at their new Roman guards, hatred burning in their dark eyes.

Lilybaeum appeared over the horizon the morning ageing and slowly moving into evening, how battle passed the time he mused.