set, and his
voice cold and even. "I have solicited command of the Roman cavalry.
We shall fight on the right wing, beside the river, and I do not think
many of us will ride from the battle. Varro commands the cavalry of
the allies on the left, and the pro-consuls"--he hesitated a
moment--"the pro-consuls market their beeves in the centre. You will
cross with me now. My volunteers ride about my body. It is time. It
is time."
The breeze from the southward freshened every minute, and the red flag
lashed out angrily toward the sea.
XIV.
CANNAE.
The cavalry trumpets rang out their clear notes, and Sergius and his
companions threw themselves upon their kneeling chargers. Then they
rode out and down the bank, behind the consul who, with head hanging
upon his breast, had turned his rein the moment he had given the word.
What if the dust did swirl up in blinding sheets from the south?
Before them lay the Roman battle, horse and foot--such an army as the
city had never sent forth. What if its masses were somewhat cramped?
its front narrow? its general an amateur? They were to fight at last,
and how should a mongrel horde of barbarians, but half their number,
stand firm against the impetus of such a shock. A moment's hush; then
measured voices rose in calm cadence--the voices of the tribunes
administering the military oath to each cohort, "Faithful to the
senate, obedient to your imperator." What Roman could doubt that the
voice of victory spoke in the thunderous response!
And now the clangour of cymbals and the roll of drums came up on the
breezes from the south, and, with them, a strange uproar of barbarous
shouts and cries. Then it was that the Roman legionaries began to
crash their heavy javelins against their great, oblong shields until
the din drowned everything else, and the thunder of Jove himself might
have roared in vain.
Sergius had ridden up the bank, almost at the consul's rein, and his
eyes wandered eagerly over Varro's array. Eight full legions with
their quota of allies seemed welded into one huge column: Romans on the
right, Italians on the left. The sun was well up, and its rays played
upon a very sea of bronze from which the feathered crests rose and
shivered like foam. Far beyond the column, on the extreme left, he
could make out squadrons of allied horse, and then he turned to take
his place amid the cavalry of the city: young men well born, burning
with courage and ardour
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