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Cannae, part onePart one - 4 AMCannae, part one by =Gold-Seven
Bomilkar son of Hanno made his way through the outskirts of the Punic camp, a torch in his hand, muttering under his breath. The sky was still the deep indigo of the summer night; to his right, a strip of paler blue was creeping up on the horizon, heralding the dawn. The day would be hot, just like that last, and the one before that. It was an early morning in August, the third year of the campaign. The Roman army was encaped ten stades from the Punic. Battle was in the air, had been for days; and Bomilkar, chief of Hannibal’s bodyguard, was searching for the general.
“ ‘Wake me an hour before dawn,’ ” he muttered to himself. “Would have been nice to know where, exactly.” Hannibal was not in his tent, and the guard outside had told Bomilkar that he hadn’t slept there at all, but had left for the outer guard posts an hour after midnight. This was hardly new behaviour, but Bomilkar wished he