Hannibal Enemy of Rome (31 page)

Finally, Hannibal signalled to the musicians. Raising their instruments to their lips, the men blew a short set of notes. It was the call to arms, the same sound that alerted soldiers to the nearby presence of enemy forces. Immediately, the crescendo of sound died away, leaving in its place an expectant hush. Bostar excitedly nudged Sapho in the ribs, and received a similar dig in return. An admonitory look from Malchus had them both standing to attention as if on parade. This was no time for childish behaviour.

‘Soldiers of Carthage,’ Hannibal began. ‘We stand on the brink of a great adventure. But there are those in Rome who would stop us from the outset.’ He held up a hand to quell his men’s angry response. ‘Would you hear the words of the latest Roman embassy to visit Carthage?’

A few moments went by as the interpreters did their work, and then an enormous cry of affirmation went up.

‘“The heinous and unwarranted attack on Saguntum cannot go unanswered. Deliver to us, in chains, the man they call Hannibal Barca, and all of his senior officers, and Rome will consider the matter closed. If Carthage does not comply with this request, it should consider itself at war with the Republic.”’ Hannibal paused, letting the translations sink in, and his soldiers’ fury build. He gestured dramatically at those behind him on the platform. ‘Should these men and I hand ourselves in to the nearest Roman ally so that justice can be done?’

Again, a short delay. But the roar of ‘NO!’ that followed exceeded the combined volume of all the cries that had gone before.

Hannibal smiled briefly. ‘I thank you for your loyalty,’ he said, sweeping his right arm from left to right, encompassing the entire host.

Another immense cheer shredded the air.

‘Instead of accepting Rome’s offer then, I would lead most of you to Italy. To carry the war to our enemies,’ Hannibal announced to more deafening acclaim. ‘Some must remain here, under the command of my brother Hasdrubal; your mission is to protect our Iberian territory. The rest will march with me. Because the Romans control the sea, we will travel overland and take them by surprise. You might imagine that we would be alone in Italy, and surrounded by hostile forces. But do not fear! Theirs is a fertile region, and ripe for the plunder. We will also have many allies. Rome controls less of the peninsula than you might think. The tribes in Cisalpine Gaul have promised to join us, and I have no doubt that the situation will be the same in the central and southern parts. It will not be an easy struggle, and I ask only those men who would freely accompany me to engage in this enterprise.’ Hannibal let his gaze wander from formation to formation, catching the eye of individual soldiers. ‘With all of your help,’ he continued, ‘the Republic will be torn asunder. Destroyed, so that it can no longer threaten Carthage!’ Calmly, he waited for his message to spread.

It did not take long.

The noise of over a hundred thousand men expressing their agreement resembled a rumbling, threatening thunder. Malchus, Sapho and Bostar trembled to hear it.

Hannibal raised a clenched fist in the air. ‘Will you follow me to Italy?’

There was but one answer to his question. And, as every man in his army gave voice to the loudest cry of all, Hannibal Barca stood back and smiled.

In the weeks following their argument, Hanno and Quintus both made half-hearted attempts at reconciliation. None succeeded. Hurt by the other’s attitude, and full of youthful self-importance, neither would give way. Soon they had virtually stopped talking to one another. It was a vicious circle from which there was no escape. Aurelia did her best to mediate, but her efforts were in vain. Yet for all of his resentment, Hanno had realised that he could not now run away. Despite his feud with Quintus, he owed him and Aurelia too much. And so, growing increasingly morose, he remained, wary always of Agesandros’ menacing presence in the background. Quintus, meanwhile, threw himself into his cavalry training with the socii. He was
often absent from the house for days at a time, which suited him fine. It meant that he didn’t even have to see Hanno, let alone speak to him.

Spring was well underway when a note from Fabricius arrived. Followed by an eager Aurelia, Atia took it to the courtyard, which was filled with watery sunshine. Quintus, who was outside with Agesandros, would have to hear the news later.

Aurelia watched excitedly as her mother opened the missive and began to read. ‘What does it say?’ she demanded after a moment.

Atia looked up. The disappointment on her face was clear. ‘It’s a typical man’s letter. Full of information about politics and what’s going on in Rome. There’s even a bit about some chariot race he went to the other day, but almost nothing about how he’s feeling.’ She traced a finger down the page. ‘He asks after me, obviously, and you and Quintus. He hopes that there are no problems on the farm.’ At last Atia smiled. ‘Flaccus has asked him to send you his warmest regards, and says that although your marriage will have to be postponed because of the war, he cannot wait until the day it comes to pass. Your father has given him permission to write to you directly, so you may receive a letter from him soon.’

Aurelia was pleased by news of the postponement, but the thought of her wedding day - and night - still made her turn scarlet. Catching sight of Hanno in the kitchen doorway, she went an even brighter shade of red. His being a slave did not stop her from thinking - yet again - that, despite his newly crooked nose, he was extremely good-looking. For an instant, Flaccus was replaced by Hanno in her mind’s eye. Aurelia stifled a gasp and shoved the shocking image away. ‘That’s nice. What else has Father to say?’

Hanno was oblivious to Aurelia’s emotions. He was pleased because Julius had just told him to sweep the courtyard, which in turn allowed him to listen in on the conversation. With his ears pricked, he poked the broom into the crevices gaping between some of the tesserae on the mosaic floor, carefully hooking out as much dirt as possible.

Atia read on, sounding more interested. ‘The majority of what he writes about is the Republic’s response to Hannibal. The Minucii and their allies are working tirelessly to help the preparations for war. Flaccus hopes to be made tribune of one of the new legions. Most importantly of all, Tiberius Sempronius Longus and Publius Cornelius Scipio, the two new consuls,
have been granted the provinces of Sicily and Africa, and Iberia, respectively. The mission of the former is to attack Carthage while that of the latter is to confront, and defeat, Hannibal. Father is pleased that he and Flaccus will serve with Publius.’

‘That’s because all the glory will fall on the army that defeats Hannibal,’ mused Aurelia. Sometimes she wished she were a man, so that she too could go to war.

‘Men are all the same. We women have to stay behind and worry,’ said her mother with a sigh. ‘Let’s just ask the gods to bring both of them back safely.’

Hanno didn’t like what he had heard. Hated it, in fact. Stinking bloody Romans, he thought bitterly. There were no generals of any ability in Carthage, which meant that the Senate would recall Hannibal to defend the city, thus ending his plans to attack Italy. His departure would leave Iberia, Carthage’s richest colony, at the mercy of an invading Roman army. Hanno’s fingers clenched furiously on his broom handle. The war seemed over before it had begun.

Aurelia frowned. ‘Didn’t an assault on Carthage come close to succeeding in the previous war?’

‘Yes. And Father says that whatever Hannibal’s qualities, Rome will be victorious. We have no reason to believe that the Carthaginians’ resolve is any stronger than it was twenty years ago.’

Hanno’s black mood grew even worse. Fabricius was right. His city’s record in the face of direct attacks was not exactly glorious. Of course Hannibal’s return would make a huge difference, but would it be enough? His army wouldn’t be with him: even without the Romans’ control of the seas, the general simply didn’t possess enough ships to transport tens of thousands of troops back to Africa.

It was then that Quintus arrived. Instantly, he took in Aurelia standing over his mother with the letter in her hand. ‘Is that from Father?’

‘Yes,’ Atia replied.

‘What news does he send?’ he asked eagerly. ‘Has the Senate decided on a course of action?’

‘To attack Carthage and Iberia at the same time,’ answered Aurelia.

‘What a fantastic idea! They won’t know what hit them,’ Quintus cried. ‘Where is Father to be sent?’

‘Iberia. So too is Flaccus,’ said Atia.

‘What else?’

Atia handed the parchment to Quintus. ‘Read it for yourself. Life goes on here, and I have to talk to Julius about the provisions that need buying in Capua.’ She brushed past Hanno without as much as a second glance.

Hanno’s anger crystallised. Whatever debt he might owe, it was time to run away. Carthage would now need every sword she could get. Nothing and no one else mattered. What about Suni? asked his conscience. I have no idea where he is, thought Hanno desperately. What chance is there of finding him?

Quintus scanned the letter at top speed. ‘Father and Flaccus are going to Iberia,’ he muttered excitedly. ‘And I am nearly finished my training.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Aurelia demanded.

He gave her a startled look. ‘Nothing, nothing.’

Aurelia knew her brother well. ‘Don’t go getting any crazy ideas,’ she warned. ‘Father said you were to remain here until called for.’

‘I know.’ Quintus scowled. ‘From the sound of it, though, the war
will
actually be over in a few months. I don’t want to miss it.’ His gaze flickered across the courtyard and made contact with Hanno. Instantly, Quintus glanced away, but it was too late.

Hanno’s fury overflowed at last. ‘Are you happy now?’ he hissed.

‘What do you mean?’ Quintus replied defensively.

‘The guggas will be defeated, again. Put in their rightful place. I expect you’re delighted.’

Quintus’ face grew red. ‘No, that’s not how it is.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Hanno shot back. Clearing his throat, he spat on the mosaic floor.

‘How dare you?’ Quintus roared, taking a step towards Hanno. ‘You’re nothing but a—’

‘Quintus!’ cried Aurelia, aghast.

With great effort, her brother stopped himself from saying any more.

Contempt twisted Hanno’s face. ‘A slave. Or a gugga! Is that what you were going to say?’

Quintus’ visage turned a deeper shade of crimson. Bunching his fists with anger, he turned away.

‘I’ve had enough of this.’ Hanno grabbed his broom.

Aurelia could take no more. ‘Stop it, both of you! You’re acting like children.’

Her words made no difference. Quintus stormed out of the house, and Aurelia followed him. Hanno retreated to the kitchen, where misery settled over him as it never had before. The news he’d heard a few months before, of Hannibal’s successful siege of Saguntum, and the challenge it had issued, had bolstered his flagging spirits. Given him a reason to go on. Fabricius’ letter had destroyed this utterly. Rome’s plan seemed unbeatable. Even if he reached Hannibal’s army, what difference could he make?

Aurelia came looking for Hanno upon her return. She found him slumped on a stool in the kitchen. Ignoring the other slaves’ curious stares, she dragged Hanno outside. ‘I’ve spoken to Quintus,’ she muttered the moment they were alone. ‘He didn’t mean to offend you. It was just a spontaneous reaction to you spitting.’ She gave Hanno a reproachful look. ‘That was so rude.’

Hanno flushed, but he didn’t apologise. ‘He was gloating at me.’

‘I know it seemed like that,’ said Aurelia. ‘But I don’t think that’s what he was doing.’

‘Wasn’t it?’ Hanno shot back.

‘No,’ she replied softly. ‘Quintus isn’t like that.’

‘Why did he call me a gugga originally, then?’

‘People say things that they don’t mean when they’re drunk. I suppose that you haven’t called him any names in your head since?’ Aurelia asked archly.

Stung, Hanno did not answer.

Aurelia glanced around carefully, before reaching out to touch his face.

Startled by the intimacy this created, Hanno felt his anger dissipate. He looked into her eyes.

Alarmed by her suddenly pounding heart, Aurelia lowered her hand. ‘On the surface, this argument looks quite simple,’ she began. ‘If it weren’t for your misfortune, you would be a free man and, in all probability, enlisting in the Carthaginian army. Like Quintus will do in the legions. There would be nothing wrong with either of those actions. Yet Quintus is free to do as he chooses, while you are a slave.’

That’s it in a nutshell, thought Hanno angrily.

Aurelia wasn’t finished. ‘The real reason, however, is that first you, and then Quintus, were hurt by what the other said. Both of you are too damn proud to make a sincere apology and put it behind you.’ She glared at him. ‘I’m sick of it.’

Amazed by Aurelia’s insight and sincerity, Hanno gave in. The quarrel had been going on long enough. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not me you should be saying that to.’

‘I know.’ Hanno considered his next words with care. ‘I will apologise to him. But Quintus has to know that, whatever the law of this land, I am no slave. I never will be.’

‘Deep down, I’m sure he knows that. That’s why he stopped himself from calling you one earlier,’ Aurelia replied. Her face grew sad. ‘Obviously, I don’t think of you like that. But to everyone else, you
are
a slave.’