Scipio had overheard, and came marching towards them. ‘If this man is telling the truth and has good information, I will spare him execution.’
The man stumbled forward and fell on his knees, speaking Greek. ‘I know about that lembos. I’ve guarded it for weeks now. The man who’s just escaped in it is a Roman, called Porcus.’
Fabius stared at Scipio, astonished. It could only be the Porcus who had been his enemy from the backstreets of Rome, the wily thug who had grown up to be Metellus’ right-hand man and adviser. They had last seen Porcus in Carthage during their reconnaissance three years earlier, but had not expected him to be here again. Scipio turned to the man. ‘Do you know what he was doing here?’
‘That’s what I have to tell you. I overheard him talking to Hasdrubal. I want to be spared.’
‘If your information is good, you have my word.’
‘This man Porcus is going to Metellus in Greece with a message. He is to tell Metellus that Hasdrubal will surrender, but only to Metellus. Metellus is to return by the lembos and accept the surrender here beside the harbours.’
Everyone seemed stunned. Scipio stared at the ground for a moment, and then nodded at the centurion, who led the Thracian off to the nearest slave galley. Petraeus turned to him. ‘We have no time to spare. We have to cut him off. We have nothing as fast as that lembos in short bursts, but one of our liburnae could catch them up. The lembos is too small to carry a reserve complement of rowers, whereas the liburnae are large enough to rest some of the rowers and keep up the pace. But we must order a pursuit now. The captain of the lembos will be putting all of his effort into pulling away as fast as he can. Once they’re out of sight, then we’ve lost them.’
Scipio turned to Ennius, who had joined them. ‘What do we have?’
‘My personal liburna. She’s docked in the outer harbour on standby for my use so will be ready to go immediately. I use her for getting to the assault ships, and for going offshore to view the Carthaginian defences. She has a crack complement of Illyrian oarsmen, the best in the Mediterranean, and a section of thirty marines trained in ship-to-ship warfare. She’s one of the vessels that we had specially designed and equipped under your instructions to counter the threat of Carthaginian privateering. She even has a ram.’
‘A ram? On a liburna?’
Ennius grinned. ‘My idea. A ram on a liburna wouldn’t be much use against triremes and polyremes. But against other liburnae and smaller vessels such as the lembos, it’s a potent weapon. The design of the lembos has sacrificed hull thickness for speed, so it would be vulnerable to ramming. When we reviewed the Roman fleet last year, we were no longer thinking of set-piece battle between triremes and polyremes, where vessels of the size of the liburna would have little direct role. We were thinking of a new kind of naval warfare involving swifter, smaller vessels, in response to the build-up of such vessels that you and Fabius saw when you got inside the circular harbour three years ago. If the Thracian mercenary is telling the truth, chasing down that lembos could make all of our preparations worthwhile.’
‘I want you to go to that liburna now and put the crew on a war footing. They will need extra water and provisions and be ready to leave in half an hour.’
‘By then the lembos may be out of sight.’
‘What her captain doesn’t know is that we know their destination. If your captain lays in a north-easterly course for the Gulf of Corinth then you should catch them. You will not join them as I need you to remain here in charge of your fabri and the catapults. I need an officer who can identify the man we are after and who understands the urgency of the mission, but who is unattached to a unit here and can be spared. A man I can trust to terminate this threat.’
He looked to Fabius, and Ennius and Polybius followed his gaze. Fabius stood stiffly to attention. ‘I am sworn to remain by your side as your bodyguard, Scipio Aemilianus. I promised Polybius, and your father Aemilius Paullus.’
Scipio put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Polybius is here now, and he absolves you. We are no longer alone against the world, as we were in the Macedonian forest. I am now surrounded by an entire army of bodyguards, the best men a general could ever have. There is no more important mission than this one I am sending you on. You know Porcus personally, and you have fought him before. You have unfinished business with him. And if this liburna is as good as Ennius says it is, you should be back in time to watch my back when I order the assault on Carthage.’
Fabius remained at attention, and then saluted. ‘Ave atque vale, Scipio Aemilianus. The job will be done.’ He turned to Ennius. ‘I will not let scum like Porcus deny me a place in the assault on Carthage. Let’s move.’
* * *
An hour and a half later, Fabius stood in the bows of the liburna as she cut through the waves in pursuit of the lembos, his clothing drenched with spray and blinking hard to keep the salt from his eyes. It had been an exhilarating chase; with the galley riding the swell rather than wallowing in it, he had felt none of the discomfort that made sailing ships such an unpleasant experience for him. He stood on the starboard side, overlooking the forward sweep of the prow and the great bronze ram that sliced through the troughs a few feet ahead, rearing up and down like the school of dolphins that had accompanied them after they had left the shallow approaches to Carthage and rowed out over deeper water into the open sea.
To begin with, the lembos had pulled away at great speed, nimbler on the waves than the liburna, but her smaller crew had quickly tired of the pace and Fabius had gained on her, to the point where she was now almost within hailing distance directly ahead. The captain of the liburna, a swarthy Sardinian who had pushed his rowers relentlessly, had no intention of bringing the lembos to heel and every intention of trying out the ram, his first opportunity to use the ship in action and see whether the iron reinforcement along the length of the keel would keep it from buckling on impact. Fabius had concurred; he too had no intention of negotiating, and would give no quarter. The men on the lembos were Romans, a crew doubtless from Metellus’ Aegean fleet, but rather than making him hesitate it strengthened his resolve. Romans who had been secretly harboured by the Carthaginians would be shown no mercy by Scipio, and it was Fabius’ duty to carry out the orders he had been given when he had left the harbour.
On the opposite side of the bow platform was the naval centurion who commanded the marines, a unit of thirty shock troops who specialized in ship-to-ship assault, trained during peacetime to counter piracy. They knelt in pairs along the central walkway that ran the length of the galley, their swords drawn, bracing themselves for impact. The rowers were heaving at the oars faster now, the inner of the two men on each oar having been replaced by a fresh rower kept in reserve to help give a final burst of speed. Fabius gripped the rail as he watched the ram break completely free from the waves, the spray bursting back as it dropped down again and cleaved the sea like an arrow. Ahead of them the lembos was now less than three lengths away. Her captain was panicking, pushing the helmsman aside and heaving the steering oar himself, bringing the galley to port in a desperate attempt to escape but only leaving her exposed beam-on to the liburna, wallowing in the trough of a wave as her oarsmen gave up in terror and jumped from their benches towards the bow and stern, joining the small cluster of marines and other men, Porcus included, who must by now have known that their time was up.