Hannibal Enemy of Rome (20 page)

Annoyed, Aurelia recovered quickly. Handsome or not, he’s still a slave, she thought. ‘Everyone at the slave market has a sad story. That doesn’t mean that we can buy them all. Consider yourself lucky,’ she snapped.

Hanno bowed his head.
She might be young, but she’s got spirit
.

An awkward silence fell.

It was broken by Atia’s voice. ‘Aurelia!’

Aurelia’s face took on a hunted look. ‘I’m in the yard, Mother.’

Atia appeared a moment later. She was wearing a simple linen stola and elegant leather sandals. ‘What are you doing here? We were supposed to be practising the lyre.’ Her gaze passed over Hanno. ‘Isn’t this the slave whom Agesandros beat? The Carthaginian?’

‘Yes, Mother.’ A touch of colour appeared in Aurelia’s cheeks. ‘I was checking with Elira that his recovery was satisfactory.’

‘I see. It’s good that you are taking an interest in things like that. It’s
all part of running the household.’ Atia eyed Hanno with more interest. ‘That broken nose isn’t healed, but otherwise he looks fine.’

Hanno shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable with being talked about as if he weren’t present.

Aurelia became a little flustered. ‘I suppose … Elira didn’t say when he’d be ready to return to work.’

‘Well?’ Atia demanded. ‘Are you sufficiently recovered?’

Hanno couldn’t exactly refuse. ‘Yes, mistress,’ he murmured.

‘He’s got three cracked ribs,’ Aurelia protested.

‘That’s no reason to stop him working in the kitchen,’ Atia replied. She stared at Hanno. ‘Is it?’

It would be far less effort than toiling in the fields, thought Hanno. He bowed his head. ‘No, mistress.’

Atia nodded. ‘Good. Follow us back to the house. Julius will have plenty for you to do.’

Secretly delighted, Aurelia followed her mother. She would no longer need an excuse to come and see Hanno.

‘Quintus wants us to watch him sparring with your father,’ said Atia in a proud yet wistful tone.

‘Oh.’ Aurelia managed to convey all of her disapproval and jealousy in one word.

Atia turned. ‘Enough of that attitude! Would you rather spend the time playing the lyre or talking Greek with your tutor?’

‘No, Mother,’ Aurelia muttered furiously.

‘Fine.’ Atia’s frown eased. ‘Come on then.’

Hanno was fascinated. All the girls he’d ever met were perfectly happy to stick with womanly pursuits. Aurelia was made from a different mould.

They entered the house via a small postern gate. It was incorporated into one of the two large timber doors that formed the entrance. Hanno looked around keenly. It was the first time he had been in the villa proper. The simple elegance of its design did not fail to impress him. Carthaginian homes were typically built for functionality, rather than beauty. Elegant mosaics and colourful wall paintings were the exception, not the rule.

In the courtyard, they found Fabricius and Quintus moving carefully around each other. Both were clad in simple belted tunics, and carrying wooden swords and round cavalry shields.

Seeing Atia and Aurelia, they paused.

Fabricius raised his weapon in salute to Atia, who smiled.

‘Finally,’ said Quintus drolly to his sister.

Aurelia did her best to look enthusiastic. This
is
better than music lessons, she told herself. ‘I’m here now.’

Quintus looked to his father. ‘Ready?’

‘When you are.’

The two stepped closer, raising their swords. The points met with a dull clunk. Both remained still for a moment, trying to gauge when the other would move.

Atia clapped her hands. ‘Fetch some fruit juice,’ she ordered Hanno. She pointed. ‘The kitchen is over there.’

He tore his eyes away from the contest. ‘Yes, mistress.’ Adopting the preferred slave walk, slow and measured, Hanno did as he was told. Happily, he was able to continue observing.

Quintus was first to act. He swept his gladius down, carrying his father’s blade towards the ground. In the same movement, he drew back his right arm and thrust forward, straight at the other’s chest. Fabricius quickly met the attack with his shield. With a great heave, he lifted it in the air. Quintus’ sword was also carried up by the move, which exposed his right armpit. Knowing that his father would strike at his weak point, Quintus desperately twisted to the left and retreated several steps. Fabricius was on him like a striking snake. Despite his father’s ferocity, Quintus managed to hold off the assault. ‘Not bad,’ Fabricius said at length, pulling back. They paused to catch their breath before renewing the engagement.

To Quintus’ delight, he drew first blood. His success came thanks to an unexpected shoulder charge at his father that enabled him to thrust his gladius around their shields. The point snagged in the left side of Fabricius’ tunic. Despite the fact that the blade was wooden, it tore a great hole in the fabric, raked along his ribs and broke the skin. He bellowed in pain, and staggered backwards. Knowing that his father would now find it agonising to lift his sword, Quintus prepared to follow through and win the bout.

‘Are you all right?’ Aurelia cried.

Fabricius did not answer. ‘Come on,’ he growled at Quintus. ‘Think you can finish me?’

Stung, Quintus lifted his gladius and ran forward. When he was only a step away, he feinted to the right and then to the left. A backward slash at Fabricius’ head followed, and his father’s response was barely enough to prevent the blow from landing. Quintus crowed with triumph and pushed on, keen to press home his advantage. Surprising him utterly, Fabricius backed away so fast that Quintus overbalanced and fell. As he landed, Fabricius spun round and placed his sword tip at the base of Quintus’ neck. ‘Dead meat,’ he said calmly.

Furious and embarrassed, Quintus got to his feet. Catching sight of Hanno, he scowled. ‘What are you looking at?’ he yelled. ‘Get about your business!’

Ducking his head to conceal his own anger, Hanno headed for the kitchen.

‘Don’t take it out on a slave,’ cried Aurelia. ‘It’s not his fault.’

Quintus glared at his sister.

‘Calm down,’ said Fabricius. ‘You were undone because you were overconfident.’

Now Quintus’ face went beetroot.

‘You did well until then,’ reassured his father. In the background, Atia was nodding in agreement. ‘If you’d just taken your time, I would have had no chance.’ He lifted his left arm and showed Quintus the long bloody graze along the side of his chest. ‘Even a scratch like this slows a man right down. Remember that.’

Pleased, Quintus smiled. ‘I will, Father.’

At that moment, Hanno emerged with a polished bronze tray. Perched upon it were a fine glass jug and four cups of the same style. Seeing him, Quintus beckoned peremptorily. ‘Get over here! I’m thirsty.’

Arrogant little shit, thought Hanno as he hurried to obey.

Fabricius waited until the whole family had a drink before raising his cup. ‘A toast! To Mars, the god of war. That his shield always remains over us both.’

Hanno blocked out the words as best he could and prayed silently to his own martial god. Baal Saphon, guide Hannibal’s army to victory over Saguntum. And Rome.

Gulping down his juice, Fabricius indicated that Hanno should pour him a refill. He frowned in recognition. ‘Fully recovered?’

‘Very nearly, master,’ Hanno replied.

‘Good.’

‘I was impressed to find Aurelia checking up on his progress,’ Atia added. ‘He’s not up to field work yet, but I didn’t see any reason why Julius couldn’t put him to use in the kitchen.’

‘Fair enough. He’s ready to go back to his cell then.’ Aurelia’s mouth opened in protest, and Fabricius raised a hand. ‘He’s not a horse,’ he said sternly. ‘That stable is needed. His manacles should be replaced too.’ Seeing the apprehension in Hanno’s face, Fabricius’ face softened. ‘Obey orders, and Agesandros will not lay a hand on you. You have my word on that.’

Hanno muttered his thanks, but his mind was racing. Despite Fabricius’ reassurance, his troubles were far from over. Agesandros would undoubtedly be holding a grudge against him. He would constantly have to be on his guard. Without thinking, Hanno remained where he was, close to the family.

An instant later, Quintus turned and their eyes met. I’d love to take you on in a swordfight, thought Hanno. Teach you a lesson. Almost as if he understood, Quintus’ top lip curled. ‘What are you still doing here? Get back to the kitchen.’

Hanno quickly retreated. He was grateful for the smile Aurelia threw in his direction.

The conversation resumed behind him.

‘Can we practise again tomorrow, Father?’ Quintus’ voice was eager.

‘The enthusiasm of youth!’ Touching his side, Fabricius grimaced. ‘I doubt that my ribs would permit it. But I can’t anyway.’

‘Why not?’ Quintus cried.

‘I must travel to Rome. The Senate is meeting to consider how it will respond when Saguntum falls. I want to hear for myself what they plan.’

War, thought Hanno fervently. I hope they decide on war. Because that’s what they’re going to get in any case.

Quintus was crestfallen, but he didn’t argue further. ‘How long will you be gone?’

‘At least ten days. Maybe more. It depends on the success of my other mission,’ Fabricius replied. He fixed Aurelia with his grey eyes. ‘To find a suitable husband for you.’

Aurelia paled, but she did not look away. ‘I see. I’m not to be allowed to fall in love as you and Mother did, then?’

‘You’ll do as you’re damn well told!’ Fabricius snapped.

Atia flushed and looked down.

‘Never mind, children,’ intervened Atia in a brisk tone. ‘It will be an opportunity for both of you to catch up on your studies. Quintus, the tutor reports that your grasp of geometry is not what it should be.’

Quintus groaned.

Atia turned to Aurelia. ‘Don’t think that you’re going to escape either.’

Even as she scowled, Aurelia was struck by an idea. Her heart leaped at its brilliance. If she could pull it off, neither of them would care about extra lessons. And it would help her not to think about her father’s quest.

Like all the best plans, Aurelia’s was simple. She wasn’t sure if Quintus would go along with it, however, so she said nothing until their father had been gone for several days. By then, her brother’s frustration at not being able to do any weapons training was reaching new highs. Aurelia picked her moment carefully, waiting until her mother was occupied with the household accounts. Quintus’ morning lessons had ended a short time before, and she found him pacing around the fountain in the centre of the courtyard, angrily scuffing his sandals along the mosaic.

‘What’s wrong?’

He glanced at her, scowling. ‘Nothing, apart from the fact that I’ve had to spend two hours trying to calculate the volume of a cylinder. It’s impossible! And it’s not as if I’ll ever use the method again. Typical bloody Greeks for discovering how to work out something so stupid in the first place.’

Aurelia made a sympathetic noise. She wasn’t fond of the subject either. ‘I was wondering …’ she began. Deliberately, she did not continue.

‘What?’ Quintus demanded.

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ she replied. ‘Just a silly idea.’

The first trace of interest crossed Quintus’ face. ‘Tell me.’

‘You’ve been complaining a lot about Father being away.’

He gave an irritable nod. ‘Yes, because I can’t practise my sword play.’

Aurelia smiled impishly. ‘There might be a way around that.’

Quintus’ look was pitying. ‘Riding to Capua and back to train with Gaius each day isn’t an option. It would take far too long.’

‘That’s not what I’ve got in mind.’ Aurelia found herself hesitating. Say it! she thought. You’ve got nothing to lose. ‘I could be your sparring partner.’

‘Eh?’ His eyebrows rose in shock. ‘But you’ve never used a sword before.’

‘I learn fast,’ Aurelia shot back. ‘You said so yourself when you taught me to use a sling.’ She held her breath, praying that he would agree.

A slow grin spread across Quintus’ face. ‘We could go “for a walk” up to the woods, to the place where I train.’

‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ cried Aurelia delightedly. ‘Mother doesn’t mind what we do as long as all of our homework is done, and our duties are completed.’

A frown creased his brow. ‘What’s in it for you? You’ll never be able to do it again once you’re …’ He gave her a guilty look.

‘That’s precisely why,’ Aurelia said fervently. ‘I’ll be married off within the year, most likely. Then I’ll have to resign myself to childminding and running a household for the rest of my life. What an opportunity to forget that fate!’

‘Mother will kill you if she finds out,’ Quintus warned.

Aurelia’s eyes flashed. ‘I’ll face that day if, or when, it comes.’

Quintus saw his sister’s resolve, and nodded. In truth, he felt glad to be able to help her, even if it would only be a temporary affair. He wouldn’t want the future she’d painted. ‘Very well.’

Aurelia stepped in to kiss his cheek. ‘Thank you. It means a lot to me.’