Chapter Seven: The Men and Their Wolves
Part Six: Hannibal and the Volcae
To be honest, the day the Ouolkirix finally returned from his wars in the north was far from what Hanniba’al expected. In fact, when it happened, he hadn’t expected it at all.
The doors of the great hall burst open. Escamulos busted into the Great Hall without so much as an introduction, or even a warning. His brow was covered in sweat, and he looked like he’d just sprinted his way here. The light of the setting sun shone through the windows, making his skin glisten. His boots were still covered in mud, and his hair was flattened and imprinted from his helmet. His entrance caused quite a commotion. Unannounced and unintentionally dramatic, he stood, a grisly figure in the twilight, as the doors slammed behind him. At first, Hanniba’al didn’t know who or what he was.
“Escamulos!” Bellipenna shouted, leaping from the throne down to the floor.
Hanniba’al watched from where he stood, by the side of the Ouolki throne. Over the past few months, his stay in Ardobriga had been filled with answering the many and profound inquiries of the Ouolkiriga Bellapenna. She was a curious creature, and Hanniba’al admired her intellect. There was a part of him that wished his sons would marry a woman like her.
Hormoz, the Buddhist monk, got up from his seated position of the marbled floor and followed the golden-haired queen, eager to meet the king of this strange land. Hanniba’al was eager as well, but restrained himself. A king in exile he might be, but he was a king nonetheless, and would maintain the stature of one upon this meating.
Escamulos and Bellipenna kissed and began chattering swiftly in there language. The rolling syllables that passed excitedly through their lips were too fast for Hanniba’al to understand, despite his fluency in the language of the Galatoi. One phrase he did pick out over and over, though, stood out:
“My love, my love.”
It almost took him aback, how forward they were with their affections. Hanniba’al had been around many Keltoi kings, and all of them were more affectionate than any Punic politician, but the Ouolkirigi took it to a new level: They were actually in love with each other. Had strangers not been around, the King of Ishfania suspected that they’d have started fucking each other right then and there.
Finally, their tongues slowed down enough for Hanniba’al to understand their speech.
“My love,” Bellipenna almost sang, “This man here is Ormosos of Vactria. He does not speak like we do, but he is very interesting and has very interesting stories.”
“How do you know his stories are interesting if you can’t understand his tongue, my love?” Escamulos asked, wrapping his thick arms around her waiste.
“It is said again to me in our language,” she smiled as if the answer was obvious. “Ormosos, this is my rix, Escamulos.”
It took Hormoz a second to realize he was finally being introduced. He stared blankly momentarily, then smiled and bowed lowly. His shaven head gleamed in the falling sunlight.
“I don’t like him,” Escamulos said. “He smells strange.”
“Oh, my love, you must like him.” Bellipenna defended. “It will please me if you do.”
They began to chirp again, and Hanniba’al shifted uncomfortably. Perhaps he shouldn’t have, it was an unforeseeable accident with even more unforeseeable consiquence. But it caused Escamulos’ eyes to raise and land on Hanniba’al just as the rest of his entorage entered the Great Hall, just now catching up to their king.
When Hanniba’al was young in Ishfania, he once led a small army to the frontier to fend off a band of marauding Celtiberians. They were successful, and that night he and his army spent the night celebrating with wine and feating. But when an eerie sound broke through the night, his Keltoi mercenaries fell silent. They said that there were wolves nearby, a bad omen to be sure. Hanniba’al didn’t bother with their strange supersticions and continued to merrymake all night long. The next morning, he got up earlier than his headache would have liked. But when he walked out of his tent, in the early morning fog, he noticed that his horses were gone. Not but thirty strides away from him was a large grey wolf, staring right at him. It was the long-stare: the unrelenting, unyielding, cold and vacant stare of a hunter watching its prey. When Escamulos laid eyes upon Hanniba’al, he saw those same wolf eyes, that same long-stare, looking at him.
When Escamulos I of Ouolkike returned from his wars in the North, he came back to find an unexpected figure looming in his halls: Hanniba’al Baraq, or Anibalos Baracas as the Ouolki records call him. Though the Ouolkirix very quickly dismissed the Buddhist missionary that accompanied the deposed King of Ishfania, Escamulos found a great deal of interest in Hanniba’al; however, this interest was not necessarily a good thing. Hanniba’al’s own memoirs record that Escamulos challeneged Hanniba’al to a duel that the Punic master of war was lucky enough to avoid. As it turned out, the Queen Bellipenna convinced Escamulos not to kill Hanniba’al, and to treat him as he should treat an equal. Hanniba’al writes that after this, he was treated with great respect and favor in the court of Ardobriga. But troubles abroad further postponed Hanniba’al’s purpose in Ouolkike, and he needed to wait another year to broker an agreement with the Ouolkirix.
To the South, in Hellas, the Spartans and their allies were rallying large armies and further securing their position of power amongst the Greeks. After invading and sacking the Epirote cities of Dodona, Passaron, Chyton, and Cassiopeia in quick succession, Leonidas III all but officially united mainland Greece under the thinly veiled banner of the Hellenic League in the name of Sparta. It would not be long before war broke out between the Greeks and the Ouolki again.
Escamulos’ chronicler Scordiscos writes that the king sent envoys to the Samnite Commonwealth as well as to the Boian League to negotiate support should war break out. He also sent ambassadors to Armenia and Pontos with similar ambitions. These were all realms that, though held no issue with Greece, were greatly resentful of Egypt, Greece’s greatest ally, and its expanding influence in the Mediterranean.
Finally, in 198 B.E. Hanniba’al received the army he requested to regain his throne. Under the joint command of Hanniba’al and Escamulos’ youngest brother Sinatus, an army of 10,000 Ouolki boarded 500 ships and began the campaign to restore Hanniba’al to his throne. However, the trip was long, and Sinatus was eager to gain glory and riches. The fleet made certain to raid Knossos on its way out of the Aegean, and would also launch a devastating assault on Carthage months later.
The Ouolki army landed in Malaka the spring of 197 B.E. The professional Ouolki warriors quickly proved their superiority over the mercenary armies of Ishfania and its allies. After a crushing defeat outside New Carthage, Magon was captured and crucified. Hanniba’al was restored as King of Ishfania, but his troubles didn’t end there.
The Ouolki led by Sinatus suddenly demanded rights to land in addition to their pay. Sinatus is quoted as saying:
“Warriors can make a home wherever there is blood to be spilt, and we have long swords and short tempers indeed.”
But rather than further diminish his crippled dominions, Hanniba’al made an offer to the Ouolki that was just too good to refuse. With his support, Hanniba’al suggested that the Ouolki march north and take Barqenon as well as Numantia. This led to a war with the Celtiberi, who Hanniba’al was more than happy to reap revenge upon after their assistance in his brother’s coup. Sinatus agreed, and marched his 10,000 men north into Celtiberian territory, where they won several steap victories against their enemies.
“They were like sicles to the field,” Scordiscos says. The Ouolki settled in the Punic city of Barqenon, and along the coastal plain. By the end of the year, they subjugated Numantia, and the whole of the Celtiberi Federation under the banner of the Ouolki. Sinatus now styled himself as king of a new realm carved out in the far away land of Iberia.
But back home, his brother shouted and cursed his name. The raid Sinatus led on Knossos was the spark that lit the fire in the Aegean. Escamulos made sacrifices to the Gods of War on the hilltop of Ardobriga, and galvanized his allies.
Fire and blood awaited the world of men in the Aegean.