The red-haired man burst out of the tent and into the night. Mago was in hot pursuit. "Hanno, Hanno, wait!", Mago cried. Hanno continued to race away. Mago's foot started to throb with pain. It had only been four days since an elephant had stepped on Mago's foot. "Damn it, Hanno, slow down. My foot is about to fall off." Finally, Hanno slowed and permitted his friend to catch up to him.

"It is a bad mistake," Hanno shouted. "That idiot Grindoll will get us all killed!" This remark caused several soldiers to turn and take interest in the general's remarks.

"Lower your voice," Mago hissed. Mago grabbed Hanno's arm and led him into a nearby supply tent.

"This new strategy is madness and goes against every plan that we have ever made. I cannot understand why you should support it. Mago, you of all people should be opposed to this move. You are the one that told ME never to trust these lousy Gauls."

Mago sat on a sack of barley and let to his friend, Hanno, vent. Mago had learned long ago when they were children that sometimes you needed to let Hanno vent his rage. Only then was he ready to listen to reason. Mago thought that the worst part, though, was Hanno was right. Mago did not trust the Gauls. He had not trusted them when he first met them as a boy in his father's diplomatic mission to Gaul 20 years ago. However, this was not his army. It belonged to Hannibal, and Hannibal had made his decision. Mago may not have liked it. In fact he didn't particularly agree with it. However, Hannibal had made his decision and for Mago that settled the matter.

"Mago have you heard anything that I have just said?" Hanno asked. Mago had not been listening, but was unwilling to admit it.

"Of course I heard you. You just repeated the arguments that you stated at the war council."

"And I will keep repeating them until I prevent this army from making a fatal mistake. We have the ability to crush Rome, bring her to her knees and rule all of the Mediterranean. This change in our basic strategy could cause us to lose everything." Hanno's argument was correct, loud, but correct.

Hannibal's Plan

The year is 218 B.C. Hannibal is a great war leader for Carthage, and Hanno and Mago are two of his trusted generals. Hannibal had outlined his war strategy to them in the spring. Carthage and Rome had previously fought in a war -- a war in which Rome defeated the men of Carthage. Hannibal's father, Hasdrubal, had been a war leader in this First Punic War. Hasdrubal had made Hannibal swear an oath to Bal, the chief god of the Carthaginians, to avenge their defeat.

Hannibal had planned ways to defeat the Romans. He would sit in his garden for hours on end and think of nothing else. He developed strategies and tested them. Hannibal had thought through the Second Punic War many thousands of times. While Hannibal sat, thousands of men marched and counter-marched in his head.

Finally, Hannibal felt that he had narrowed his strategic options down to only one. However, he felt that this would be a winning strategy. He made his decision. He was going to take the war to Rome.

The Carthaginians would raise an army of over 100,000 men. This army would move north and east. First they would subjugate the Iberian and Celtic tribes north of the Ebro River in Spain. Then with about 60,000 men they would drive across southern Gaul, cross the Rhone River, leap over the northern Italian mountains and strike the Romans in the heart of Italy. One or two victories and the Roman allies would flee Rome and embrace Carthage. The Romans would be naked and alone; they would submit. Hannibal would shame the Romans. He would avenge the Carthaginian dishonor of the First Punic War.

Hanno and Mago had liked Hannibal's plan from its inception. They had worked tirelessly all that spring of 218 B.C. to gather the men, drill them, and forge them in to a fighting force that could bring the Romans to their knees. The plan had worked brilliantly in Spain and southwestern Gaul. Hannibal had lead 50,000 men to the western edge of the Rhone River. However, the Rhone was a wide river and Hannibal had to wait while his engineers built rafts.

An Unexpected Gift

It was while the rafts were being built that the Carthaginians received an unexpected visitor in their camp. His name was Grindoll and he was a ruler of a minor domain of the Gauls. Grindoll had demanded to see Hannibal. Naturally, he was fobbed off on one of Hannibal's subordinates. Some soldiers escorted Grindoll to the tent of Hasdrubal, Hannibal's brother and his second-in-command. Grindoll proffered Hasdrubal a small walnut chest filled with silver. "A gift for the mighty Carthaginians," Grindoll smiled. "A small token of our appreciation to you for lifting the yoke of Roman oppression from our back."

Hasdrubal eyed the Gaul and his gift. The chest was no bigger than a loaf of bread and the workmanship was only fair. The silver would help pay the army but gold would have been better. Hasdrubal extended his arms and accepted the box. "I thank you on behalf of my brother," replied Hasdrubal. "Wine?"

Grindoll nodded in acceptance. A soldier brought a tray with two cups and a pitcher. The entire drinking set was made of gold and the cups were inlaid with jewels. Another soldier poured the wine. Hasdrubal took one and offered the other to his guest. Hasdrubal and Grindoll touched the cups and drank it in one pull. Soldiers brought in two chairs. Hasdrubal and Grindoll sat. Grindoll noticed that Hasdrubal's seat was higher than his chair.

Grindoll spoke, "I do not wish to know the plans of the Carthaginian army leader, but I wish to offer you a plan for the conquest of all Gaul."

Hasdrubal's eyes widened. This was not the type of plan that was laid before him every day. "Go on," is all that he could get out.

Grindoll pulled an apple from a fold in his robe and drew his knife from its scabbard. This caused an immediate reaction from the guards, but a hand movement from Hasdrubal brought them to heel. Grindoll pointed the knife at the apple. "This is Gaul as the world perceives her," said Grindoll. "She is one...solid... whole." He began to slice the apple into pieces. "However, the truth is that she is three great parts broken up by the Rhone. Here in the south the mighty river breaks Gaul into Western Gaul and Eastern Gaul. Further north, it turns east and flows into the Alps. The area north of that turn is the third section of Gaul." Large parts of the apple fell at Grindoll's feet. He held the remaining third in his hand. "This is western Gaul. However, it too is not whole." Grindoll sliced as he spoke. "It is made of small pieces." Grindoll sheathed his knife. He held about one tenth of the apple and said. "This is my part of Gaul. With this as a beginning, and with your help, I plan to take the whole."

Hasdrubal looked at Grindoll's hand. He held a whole apple. He is part magician, thought Hasdrubal. Grindoll spoke, "I have a force of 5,000 men. I propose that we combine our forces and then drive north along the Rhone. The Rhone will become our shield. She will protect us from the Romans; they will never allow their armies to fight on this side of the river without first building a stout bridge. Even the Romans will need six weeks to gather the materials and the men to bridge the mighty Rhone. Our two forces could easily subjugate the area west of the Rhone in less than a month. Half the tribes will lay down their arms at our approach. Some of them may join our army. It is true that a few of the tribes may join and form an army. Has not the might Hannibal destroyed many a barbarian army in Spain? A few bloodless victories and many tribes of Gaul will fly to the banner of Carthage. Your army could swell to three times its current size. Then, no Roman army could stand before you. Rome would probably surrender the second that you crossed the Rubicon. I offer you a chance to destroy Rome in this campaign." Grindoll fell silent.

Hasdrubal's Decision

Hasdrubal sat silently, he had been impressed by Grindoll's reasoning. Grindoll had struck on two of Hasdrubal's own misgivings about this campaign. Hasdrubal felt that this dash across Gaul to Italy would leave the Carthaginians with no friendly place to run to if they needed to leave Italy. He did not want to be stuck between a Roman army and a Gallic army. Hasdrubal's other concern had been the size of their army. They had begun with 100,000 men. Already that force was down by nearly half. They still needed to cross the eastern half of Gaul and the Alps. Serious losses in either place could reduce their army in size to less than a brigand's band.

Hasdrubal knew that Grindoll was overstating his case. 100,000 Gauls would not join their ranks, but 30,000 or 40,000 would be a great help.

"What would you want for our assistance in this matter?" Hasdrubal asked.

"I would not consider any compensation until after the surrender of Rome to Carthage," Grindoll said.

Hasdrubal rose. Grindoll arose too. "I shall speak to my brother of your suggestion. You will have our answer within two days," said Hasdrubal. He bowed slightly to his guest in deference of his rank. Grindoll returned the bow and left without saying another word. Two attendents parted the folds of the tent and Grindoll disappeared from Hasdrubal's view.

Hasdrubal moved over and sat down in Grindoll's chair. He brought his hand to his chin and thought about Grindoll's idea. Was it an opportunity? Was it a trap? He calculated distances, troop movements, supplies and other factors. Hasdrubal shifted his foot and it struck something. He looked down and saw an apple. Bending down, he picked it up, and gazed at it intently. Hasdrubal stared at it as if it were a crystal ball -- one that may reveal its secrets if he looked long enough. He looked deep into the apple.

The tent grew silent -- no one made a sound. No one wanted to disturb his concentration. Everyone knew that Hasdrubal could be deciding the fate of the army. Even more importantly, each man knew that Hasdrubal could be deciding the fate of each of them. The correct decision here could mean a quick victory -- tons of booty. The men knew that each of them could become very wealthy if Hasdrubal made the right decision. A wrong decision could mean death or a life spent as a slave to some fat Roman. They knew that Hasdrubal had their fates in their hands and gave him the quiet that he needed.

CRUNCH! The silence was broken. Hasdrubal had taken a bite from the apple. He arose quickly and went in search of his brother.

More Apple

Gift of an Apple: Part 1 [Her. # 22]
Gift of an Apple: Part 2 [Her. # 24]
Gift of an Apple: Part 3 [Her. # 25]