The tent flapped opened as an apologetic looking man walked in. He blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Fragrant smoke wafted across the room, tickling his nose. Giving a slight cough he said Excuse me general, there is someone here to see you.
From a pile of pillows in one corner of the room came the muffled voice of the General. Curse it all, I TOLD you not to disturb me. Tell whoever it is to get lost, Im busy.
Sorry General, but it is a delegate from the Twelve, the heir to House Hasdrubal, Hasdrubal Barca[1]
A round of curses emanated from the corner. Soon the bare upper torso of General Hannon rose from the pile of cushions. Baal rot their bones. Alright, stall him while I get ready. Reaching down he pulled two women of varying states of undress up from the makeshift bed. Indifferently pushing them, he said Ive business to do, get out now. As one of them reached down to pick up a discarded garment, he roughly pushed her. I said NOW.
As his underling went to carry out his orders a younger man burst into the tent, two of General Hannons Libyan guards trailing him indecisively. The subordinate fell to one side, being hit by the incoming youth. The newcomer didnt even notice, his eyes locking on the disrobed general. So good of you to see me so soon general. He said, giving an ironic smile.
Red crept up Hannons face as his voice started to tremble with rage. Why you insolent pup
How DARE you come into MY tent without MY permission? You may be some big shot in Karthage because of who your mother bedded, but here I am the sole authority!
Hasdrubal idly turned the ring he wore around on his finger. You misunderstand me, general, I am here only to ask a few questions
such as why are you not marching to assist Gorin like you were ordered?
Hannons knuckles grew white as he clutched his rod that identified him as a general. Waving it around he said through clinched teeth. This is my authority boy. I am the general. I am the one who gives orders to my army not some pompous rich idiots who cant see past their wine cups. This army will move where and when I chose!
Hasdrubal nodded. You know thats treason, general.
Hannon laughed. Treason? Treason you say. No boy, the winners determine what is and is not treason. Look around you, I command the largest Karthaginian army around. You are surrounded by men who do what I say without thought. Now, tell me whose going to agree with your definition of treason here?
Hasdrubal sighed. I was prepared for this response. Pulling his cloak back, he revealed a sword strapped to his side. General Hannon, by the authority of the government of Karthage, I hereby find you guilty of treason and sentence you to death. Any last words?
Hannon smiled bemused. Right behind you are two of my men. What makes you think you are going to get close enough to carry out your sentence?
Hasdrubal pulled out his sword and waved one hand. At his signal, the two guards who had followed him in turned around. Advancing on Hannon he thrust his sword in his stomach, twisting it slightly. Leaning in he put his mouth close to Hannons ear. You know what the problem with being the general of a mercenary army is? Someone can always outbid you. Taking up the generals rod he tapped the guards. Ready the men, we march within the hour.
[1]The twelve houses that govern Karthage are House Hamilcar, House Hannibal, House Hasdrubal, House Barca, House Mago, House Hanno, House Sappho, House Bomilcar, House Carthalo, House Gisgo, House Bostar, and House Himilco. The heirs to the houses are always the eldest sons and take the name of the house as their first name. To lessen rivalries and divisions within the 12 Houses, the heirs are raised by another house. The name of the house the heirs are raised by becomes their second name. Thus Hasdrubal Barca is the heir (or head, but in this case heir) to House Hasdrubal and was raised by House Barca.