Gaius stared without blinking as several bodies floated by him as he knelt down on the edge of the partly frozen Trebia River. The bodies hadn’t stopped drifting downstream even though the battle had ended five hours ago. Only now did the clear water seem to be restored, as for a long while it ran bright red. Still, trickles of the crimson gore drizzled downstream from time-to-time. Now, however, the quiet stillness of the country returned.
This army, what was left of it, was broken. At present, behind enemy lines, within their own country, what remained of Sempronius’ legions had to move quickly, gathering what survivors they could find, and mustering what was left of the supplies before marching south, back towards Rome. The future was uncertain, more so now than it had been before. Hannibal had won a great victory, not against one legion, fought on equal terms on the field, but against a superior force, outsmarted, ambushed and slaughtered like no force Rome had ever assembled before. Now, what was Rome to do? How would the people react? How far would Hannibal go, now?
Gaius rubbed his hands into the water as he had continued to do so for the past twenty minutes, watching the dead drift by. His hands and much of the rest of him was clean from the blood that had been spilled during the battle. He survived, and had taken lives, for the first time. His mind, however, was not trapped on what he had done, but what he had heard, seen and experienced: screaming, terror, the sound of flesh and blood, and the horror in a man’s eye when he felt death’s grip — the easy act of pushing iron through a man’s body. But, the most troubling thought that haunting him now was, why had he been spared? If it had not been for the image of the white wolf, and the warning, he concluded from it, he would have shared the same fate as those legions under Sempronius’ command.
Why had no one else seen it? Why couldn’t it have shown itself to Sempronius? The damn fool. Why me?
The snow crackling under someone’s foot indicated to Gaius that someone was walking up behind him. A moment later, the voice of Valerius told him who it was.
“We’ll be moving soon,” Valerius said. There was no real reason why he needed to come down to the river personally, not when any number of runners could have done the job, but Valerius’ voice echoed a deep question, one which he wasn’t sure how to ask, how did you save us?
Gaius did not give Valerius a reply, or showed that he was listening, even though there was no way he could not hear him. His attention was still fixed on the bodies that drifted down the river, most of them Roma, but barbarian Gauls as well.
Valerius sighed as he stepped closer.
“Whether you want to see it or not, you saved a lot of lives today, Gaius.”
Gaius tilted his head up, looking over his shoulder toward Valerius and replied, “I did not save enough.”
Gaius threw a rock into the river, breaking a chuck of ice from the edge as he stood back to his feet.
“Why didn’t that fool listen to me, you, or any of his officers? We shouldn’t have been on the banks along the river? We shouldn’t have been marching in the storm? Sempronius is a bloody fool,” Gaius remarked bitterly.
“Sempronius was a fool — he is dead.”
Gaius just glanced at Valerius.
“We found his body, or what was left of it, along with the other ranking officers, each missing their heads,” Valerius reported.
“Too bad Sempronius only had one life to give,” Gaius utter with a viper’s tongue. “And how many of our brothers did he take with him?” he then asked.
“By my estimate, at least fifteen to twenty thousand.”
“What will we do now?” Gaius pondered; a question more for himself than in regard to Rome.
Valerius stood beside him, watching the sadden sight of his comrades drift by.
“I am proud of you, Gaius. You fought well, but more importantly you listened to your gut, regardless of the consequences. Those are merits for a true leader, one who seeks the well-being of his men, and not attaining glory; a rare virtue, I’m saddened to say.”
Gaius just looked over at his mentor’s tired eyes. He did not know what to tell him, about what he had seen, and why it compelled him to demand the army to halt. Even he did not understand it, and he doubted he ever would.
“Was it enough?” Gaius asked, his question pertaining to many things.
“We shall see. However, Rome is not out of this fight, just yet. I assure you that much. In the meantime, I have a new task I need of you and your century.”
“What do you request of me, sir?” Gaius asked as he was starting to regain himself.
“Come, we have planning to do.”