When Argentus and Legio VII arrived in Massalia, Argentus immediately called a meeting of all the legates. Without orders from the Senate or a Consul vis a vis the commanding officer of this particular task force, it behooved them to elect a senior officer to act as central coordinator. Argentus recieved the majority, and so began to plan their strategy.

Given the choice, Argentus would not have attempted to resist Hannibal at the Rhone. At under 20,000 men against over 40,000 even a river crossing into rough terrain would be feasible for Hannibal. The Senate had asked too much, gave too little, and expected a miracle.

Argentus' strategy was thus to be a rock in the river. He would force Hannibal to cross in as difficult location as absolutely possible, and then retreat, thus buying time for Rome to tie up loose ends on other fronts and redirect forces to deal with this main Punic offensive.

He marshalled the legions on the hills over the banks of that river where Hannibal was expected to cross. Across it, he could hear the unmistakeable plodding of the terrible elephants through forest. From the woods across the river, a pair of lightly armored horsemen burst onto the banks. Not long after, a lone rider in regal dress emerged and surveyed the legions arrayed against him about a mile away. There was no mistaking his identity; he was none other than Hannibal, son of Hamilcar Barca, and commander of the largest army to invade Rome since Pyrrhus of Epirus. 

Argentus spurred his horse down from the hill down to the opposite bank. In his characteristic silver scale breastplate he wore on the march, he was equally unmistakeable. Almost simultaneously, the men removed their helmets and locked eyes over the hundreds of feet the river was wide. No words were exchanged, no shouting across the river, each man only attempted to gain the measure of the other. From Argentus' perspective, Hannibal had a noble posture, and in general carried himself with the energy of youth. Even at a distance, he was a young man, particularly for one in command of the army upon which the imperial hopes of Carthage depended. For all of Argentus' disdain for the Punics, they had no shortage of talented generals. If they were putting a man this young in charge of their only hope for victory, it was because he was nothing less than the reincarnation of Alexander.

The tense moment ended, at least between the men, when Hannibal waved his scouts back, and after solemnly nodding, turned and trotted his animal back to the woods. Argentus took a breath of relaxation and rode back to his own men.

Over the next few weeks, the Carthaginian army tried to get ahead of the Romans so as to facilitate an unopposed crossing in the race to the north, but the citizen soldiers managed to keep parity with them, until the racers reached the alps; An alpine crossing would be suicidal, so Argentus felt comfortable camping in these hills while the Carthaginians foolishly wasted their time heading further north along the Rhone valley. Perhaps this Hannibal was not all he'd thought.

Argentus penned a laconic epistle to the Senate about the encounter,

[Hider=Epistle]
Ave,

The mission which I have been given I have accomplished. Massalia is safe, the Rhone has not been crossed as of when I write this letter. The Carthaginians have headed north, but the increasing distance north has only made the inevitable Alpine crossing impossible. In my estimation, we have as long as it takes him to realize the only way into Italy is through me and come back. I must therefore requistion more forces. Evidently, we have only warned off Hannibal because he ridiculously thought he could cross the Alps further north. He could have crossed and crushed our army, and likely will unless we are reinforced. [/hider]