Free Masters of the Sea - Master of Rome by John Stack

until his face was inches from Atticus’s.
    ‘You fought well at Cape Hermaeum, Perennis,’ he said coldly, ‘and for that I will forgive this insubordination. But only this one time. Now get off my ship.’
    Atticus stood back and saluted, his expression unreadable. Underneath, frustration consumed him.
    *
    Hamilcar looked up at the soaring height of the Byrsa citadel as he made his way towards the columned entrance to the Council chamber. He paused and traced the ancient walls from their base to the towering battlements, oblivious to the people stepping around him, many of them muttering curses of annoyance, the teeming streets having little tolerance for the unhurried.
    The citadel was a sight that had never before failed to lift Hamilcar’s spirits, but on this day it did not lighten his mood and, after a moment, he continued on, slipping into a current in the crowd that brought him quickly to his destination. He stepped into the cool interior, his eyes adjusting quickly to the gloom, and made his way across the marble floor, his footfalls mingling with the echoing sounds from the outer hall. He stopped at the antechamber door and knocked, entering as he heard a muffled summons from within. He closed the door behind him and looked to the two men in the room in turn. He was conscious of keeping a neutral expression, though, hiding his respect for the first man and his loathing for the second.
    Hasdrubal smiled and stepped forward, his hand outstretched, and Hamilcar took it, matching the strength of the older man’s grip, the brief contact invigorating him.
    ‘It is good to see you, Father,’ he said.
    ‘And you, Hamilcar,’ Hasdrubal replied, although his face showed his concern at how exhausted his son looked.
    Hamilcar released his father’s hand and turned to the other man, Hanno. He was a massive figure, broad in the chest and stomach, and Hamilcar nodded to him perfunctorily, his gesture ignored. He turned once more to his father.
    ‘I came as soon as I got your message.’
    Hasdrubal nodded. ‘The meeting with the One Hundred and Four went well?’
    ‘As well as I could have expected,’ Hamilcar replied. ‘On balance, the victory at Tunis outweighs the loss at Cape Hermaeum. The city is secure for now and I retain my command.’
    ‘Congratulations, Hamilcar,’ Hanno said sardonically, stepping forward, his movements slow and deliberate. ‘I see your ability to delude those old men continues to save you.’
    ‘My record alone speaks for me, Hanno,’ Hamilcar replied scathingly. ‘And the One Hundred and Four know my worth.’
    Hanno smiled, as if conceding the point, although Hamilcar sensed the councillor could see through his confident tone.
    The One Hundred and Four was a council of judges that oversaw all military matters in the empire, their number drawn from the retired commanders who had served Carthage with distinction. Hamilcar’s mandate to command was based on their approval, with success being the main criterion; although Hamilcar had been victorious at Tunis, he had been forced to defend his actions at Cape Hermaeum, an argument that had fully tested the oratorical skills his father had taught him.
    ‘The Supreme Council meets at noon,’ Hasdrubal said, conscious of the time and impatient of the conflict between Hanno and his son. ‘We need to reach a consensus on how best to proceed.’
    Hanno grumbled in agreement and walked once more to the far side of the room. Over the previous years, two factions had emerged on the Supreme Council. One, led by Hanno, was opposed to the war in Sicily and believed that the empire should expand in Africa, and the other, led by Hasdrubal, supported the Sicilian campaign. Prior to the current alliance, the two factions had frequently hamstrung each other, with neither cause prevailing. Coupled with this, Hanno had shared command with Hamilcar in their defeat at Cape Ecnomus. It was only their agreed mutual support after the battle that had saved