Cursor stood up next. They watched the Bastard silently. He was badly wounded, a sling wrapped around one arm and a large bandage covering his right eye. He should have died out there with his men, that was his plan until his staff saved him from death at the last minute. Now all he could think about was his own redemption and Hannibal's downfall.

"Whoever is consul concerns me not. You may see this as blasphemy, but in truth I am glad Longus is dead. That saves me the trouble of killing him myself. Elect whoever you wish as Consul or prodictator, it is of not my concern. The only thing that concerns me is men. I promised my men glory and all they got was dishonor. I promised a noble death, but they were cut down like hogs. We cannot and shall not let that stand. I say waive all property limitations and allow enlistment into the legions on the promise of land after a certain amount of time. You will find that men who have much to earn will fight just as hard as men who have much to lose. Citizenship to the rest of Italy? Why not? If we can ground Carthage into powder, then the untold coin we shall get from their downfall will be more than enough to let the rest of the world share in the wealth. You Senators can play your games, ave your debates, trade your favors. Let me have my men. Enough men to do the job right."