And body-draped landscapes. Each scutum stuck on its end in the wet red ground another small tombstone heralding the end of the Roman way.
"What do you mean, defeated?" The senator was pale with rage ... or was it fear? "Some stone chucking louts could not handle a wolf, let alone ... our glorious army ..."
The runner ignored the distinction between cast metal bullets and stones. "To the man."
"This is an insult to the Gods! Insolent uncivilized drunkards, they couldn't have. There must have been some aid, collusion - the Carthaginians, the Macedonians - no true Roman could be defeated in such a humiliating manner. The Republic will not be defeated in such a humiliating manner!"
The messenger's stoic attitude was in sharp contrast to the uproar among the gathered senators. "There are only those Celts, according to our best scouts. There are at least two, if not three or four for every single soldier we have ready to take up Rome's defense."
"Valor is superior to numbers-"
"And one more thing ..."
"What is it?"
"They've torn up our northward highways for ammunition."
...
"By Jupiter, we're all dead"