UNRV presents...

The Lion's Brood: The Story of Hannibal by Rafael Scott

It is 238 B.C. The First Punic War has ended and dark times have befallen the great African empire of Carthage. The struggle with Rome for domination of the Mediterranean has left the Carthaginians with shrinking provincial territories and increasing tributes to their merciless northern enemies... the Romans. The famed Carthaginian General Hamilcar Barca has sworn to never give in to these conquerors... and to destroy Rome at all costs. His eldest son, Hannibal, shall be his weapon. At the age of nine, Hannibal is torn from his tight circle of brothers and whisked away to study the strategies of warfare with his father in the distant land of Hispania. And over the next twenty years, a warrior is fashioned... a warrior is born. Two men in history brought the Roman Empire to their knees. One was the son of a carpenter. The other was the son of Hamilcar. This is the story of the greatest military strategist that ever lived... Hannibal.

Prologue

Still a nine-year-old child, Hannibal slogged his way across the waist-high river of blood in the pitch black of night. The lion stood among the trees on the other side of the river, tracking his every move. Hannibal almost lost his balance a few times before succumbing to the slippery surface below and descending into the choppy, crimson waters. As he plummeted toward the murky bottom of the riverbed, he tried to hold his breath and swim upward--but to no avail. He eventually reached an underwater precipice and slipped off its edge. The gushing waters filled his mouth, choking him. Hannibal was drowning. His thoughts began to grow dim, and the dark waters blurred before him. Panicked, Hannibal had at first cried out. But then he felt no pain. His neck and limbs became lifeless, and he surrendered to his fate.

It was an unknown force that propelled Hannibal's small frame upward, lifting him to the surface. For a moment, he floated upon his back, drifting toward the closest shore. Hannibal could see his surroundings, yet he could not open his eyes. His chest heaved up and down, struggling to recapture precious air. Soon young Hannibal regained his eyesight and once again waded across the turbulent river. Upon reaching the shore, he crawled up a muddy embankment, his hands digging into the earth, and his mouth gasping for air. He took a moment to catch his breath before lifting up his face, which, like his tunic, was heavily soiled with the ruddy mud of the river. There, directly within eyeshot, stood the lion, the nemesis that had haunted Hannibal for so many years.

The great, golden-maned beast waited for the boy on a small hill just above the shoreline. The animal rose from his powerful haunches and struck a pose that was evocative of the magnificent lion sculptures of ancient kingdoms. The glow of the moonlight bounced off the gushing river and into the lion's eyes. His pearly stare followed Hannibal up the incline. The lion grew uneasy and his roar brought Hannibal to a halt below him. A cold mist arose above the bloody river, leaving Hannibal drenched and shivering with fear. But he would not retreat. They must end. Eventually, they must come to an end.

"Why do you haunt me?" screamed Hannibal.

The lion replied with a thunderous roar, whose heavy wind enveloped the tormented child. Hannibal's teeth rattled as his arms dropped to his side. He countered his terror with fatalistic determination. "Why...do you haunt me?"

The lion opened his bone-crushing jaws and growled in discontent. His muscles rippled, but held still, ready to pounce. If the lion attacked, Hannibal wondered if he could make it to safety. Only a few meters separated the lifelong acquaintances, and all strength had abandoned the son of Carthage some time ago. Only time would tell.