“Oh, my fame will be earned when you rabble has been ground into the dirt, general.”

“Hannibal smiled. “You know who I am. I doubt that you have brought anything I have not faced, and crushed, before,” Hannibal sneered.

“And you know who I am. When you are defeated, I will have earned more fame and wealth than I can imagine. It will make me immortal in the eyes of my people. However, that is not why I refuse your offer.”

Scipio drew closer to Hannibal, his words low and hard — the bitterness in his voice conveyed the anger of millions who had suffered since Hannibal started the war years ago.

“You brought this war to my people, to my homeland — and for what? You have killed so many, entire villages, cities, generations of people, and for what?”

Of course, Hannibal did not answer.

“You came to my homeland for your own glory, which was fueled by hatred against people who never offended you personally. You destroyed much, and have taken many lives, and none of it was for your people, your country, or for justice — only for your selfish ends. You are a monster, Hannibal whose terror will end today. I will destroy your army, and with it, your legacy. There can be no other way to end this war.”

“Then that is how it must be.”

A smile appeared on Scipio’s face as he sealed the fate of his men. He stood, higher in the saddle, as he presented Rome’s official response to Hannibal’s terms.

“General, I’m afraid that on the behalf of the Senate, the People, and the Republic of Rome, I cannot accept, in good conscience the offer that your government has proposed.”

Hannibal sneered with an annoyed grunt as he pulled the reins of his horse, forcing the animal to turn as he prepared to rejoin his troops.

“You are either brave, or very foolish. History will decide which.”

Scipio turned and rode past each of his waiting officers who followed one-by-one. However, Gaius noticed that one of Hannibal’s men had not turned and joined his general, but remained seated on his horse, staring at him with a sinister grin — dangling in his massive fist was an object that he recognized immediately.

Gaius’ right hand flew down to the hilt of his sword at the sight the clay medallion that dangled on a leather string between the soldier’s fingers, seemly taunting him with it. However, he steadied himself, slowly taking his hand off from his sword. To draw it while the Carthaginian and Roman generals were still on the field would have violated the brief truce.

“My dear friend, it has been so long since last we met,” Calfax’s voice was harsh and mocking. His Latin was bad, every word spoken as if it were an insult.

“Look at you; your desire for revenge must be overwhelming. You can barely contain yourself. But that pitiful sense of honor is standing in your way isn’t it? You want this back, don’t you? It was your friend’s after all,” Calfax mocked as he moved his horse nearer to Gaius.

“This is the way it should be, just like in the arena, two warriors standing against one another — not with forty thousand me between us ready to tear each other apart. Don’t you agree, Roman?” The very word, Roman, was said with so much hatred that Gaius’ skin crawled.

“Strike me down, young Roman. It is easy. Put your hands down on that sword and draw it. Take my life and have your revenge upon me. Forget all of this. Forget your duty and sense of honor, and just kill me — you know you want it this way. Let these fools fight. Their struggle means nothing compared to ours.”

Calfax waited as he threw open his arms, exposed his powerful chest, inviting Gaius to attack.

Despite his hatred for this man, Gaius did not give into his darker instincts and lash out.

“You are no fun, not like he was.” Calfax gestured to the clay medallion. It hung around his neck, among other trinkets that had belonged to other Roman lives he had ended.

“He whimpered like a baby when I slit his throat,” Calfax said. “I trust when you face your end, you will have more courage than he did?”

Gaius leaned in closer to Calfax. He wasn’t going to play the gladiator’s games any longer.

“On the field, to the south, I will be there. I will find you, and we will finish this once and for all,” Gaius finally spoke as he dug deep to draw on as much courage as he could find. His words, thankfully, were firm, because Calfax’s presence was terrifying. The man feared nothing and no one. Gaius knew he had to be strong before him; the old gladiator could smell fear like a dog and would exploit it without hesitation.

Calfax’s smile widened as Gaius turned his horse and galloped back towards the Roman lines.

“Then on the field it shall be, Roman! On the field!” Calfax cried out several times, roaring with laughter.

This battle had a whole new meaning for Gaius. While Rome needed to defeat Hannibal to move beyond the man’s legacy, he needed to face the gladiator to avenge the savagery of the man’s own sins.

Live or die, he would find him and thrust his sword into the man’s chest. This he vowed with every fiber of his being. This he would do even it took his last breath.

Gaius stared into the faces of his men. All of them now, each and everyone he knew. They, like he, were the survivors who had lived, fought and bled in the long war against Hannibal and his horde. Each man listened to him with full attention. Everyone man knew what this day meant, but so too they knew who they were going to face.

“I can see it in your eyes. I have heard it during the silent nights. You fear what lies across this valley and the man who leads this army against us.” Many of Gaius’ men grumbled disapprovingly, which caused him to smile. “You fear Hannibal as all Romans do. You fear that the gods have forsaken us and have blessed this man with immortality and foresight.”

The rumbling between the men grew louder and angrier with each new word.

“We are just another long line of walking dead, only we don’t know it yet. This is what you believe, isn’t it? We should turn around and run, or at the very least, have the decency to fall on our swords. For Hannibal cannot be defeated. He is better than any million Roman sons — is he not?!"

A chorus of voices rose louder and angrier. Gaius’ smile grew wider as his words rose higher, carrying over his men.

“Well, I tell you now, what they say is fabrications! Hannibal has never faced this army — these men — my Wolves before!”

The men cheered louder, which was mixed in with enraged laughter. Gaius allowed his men to carry on for several seconds longer before he continued.

“Romans,” his words grew lower now. “We have suffered greatly — not a brother here hasn’t been touched by the sorrow that this man has brought to each of us, but here today, all of Rome has come united and will cry out in one voice; the Republic shall not fall, now or ever!”

The men of the Sixth Legion roared with excitement as Gaius rode back and forth in front of his men.

“When the signal comes, we will ride out and face the enemy. We will engage them and slaughter them to the man. We will ride behind Hannibal’s lines and cut his veterans to pieces, and when that is done and this war is over, he and the whole world will forever know the name of this legion, and tremble with fear!”

The roars of the Wolves carried over the whole battlefield. All sides, Roman and Carthaginian could hear them, and perhaps wonder was this the day that the unbeatable Hannibal would finally be defeated?

“Very inspiring,” Maurus said with a cheerful smile as Gaius rejoined him. “A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Whatever works, my friend,” Gaius replied with a wide grin.

The Sixth remained still a bit longer as Gaius could feel the anticipation build. Across the field, beyond the haze of the sun, he could hear the roar of his enemy, the echoes of the powerful elephants and the beating of Carthage’s drums.