Hannibal Enemy of Rome (53 page)

Not long after, Quintus found the consul’s headquarters, a large pavilion surrounded by the cavalry tent lines. The
vexillum
, a red flag on a pole, made sure that every soldier could see Publius’ position. A few questions guided Quintus in the direction of his father, whom he found outside his tent, talking to a pair of decurions. To his relief, Fabricius did not immediately explode. Instead he quietly dismissed the junior officers. The moment that they were gone, however, he rounded on Quintus. ‘Look who it is!’ Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

‘Father.’ Feeling distinctly nervous, Quintus dismounted. ‘Are you well?’

‘I’m fine,’ Fabricius replied. His eyebrows arched. ‘Surprised, though. Annoyed and disappointed too. You should be at home, looking after your mother and sister, not here.’

Quintus shuffled his feet.

‘Not going to answer that charge?’ his father snapped. ‘Why are you not on a ship to Iberia? After all, that’s where I should be.’

‘I travelled to Rome first,’ Quintus muttered. ‘I was there when Publius spoke in the Curia. I caught a glimpse of you outside.’

Fabricius frowned. ‘Why in Jupiter’s name didn’t you come up to me there?’

‘The press was too great to reach you, Father. I didn’t know where you were staying, or even that you were heading north with the consul,’ Quintus lied. ‘I found out later. It was easy enough to follow you.’

‘I see. Fortuna must have been guiding your path. The tribesmen around here aren’t the friendliest,’ said Fabricius dourly. ‘It’s a shame that you didn’t make yourself known to me in Rome. You’d already be in Capua by now, or my name isn’t Gaius Fabricius.’ His dark eyes regarded Quintus carefully. ‘And so you travelled up here alone?’

Quintus cursed inwardly. This was going even worse than he’d expected. He was such a poor liar when asked a direct question. ‘No, Father.’

‘Who was with you? Gaius, probably. He listens to Martialis as little as you do to me.’

‘No,’ Quintus mumbled.

‘Who, then?’

Dreading his father’s response, Quintus said nothing.

Fabricius’ anger bubbled over. ‘Answer me!’

‘Hanno.’

‘Who?’

‘One of our … your … slaves.’

Fabricius’ face purpled. ‘That’s not enough! Do you expect me to remember the name of every damn one?’

‘No, Father,’ Quintus said quickly. ‘He’s the Carthaginian that I bought after the bear hunt.’

‘Oh, him. Where is the dirtbag? Putting up your tent?’

‘He’s not here,’ replied Quintus, stalling for time.

Fabricius’ eyes opened wide with disbelief. ‘Say that again.’

‘He’s gone, Father,’ Quintus whispered.

‘Louder! I can’t hear you!’

A passing officer glanced over, and Quintus’ mortification soared. ‘He’s gone, Father,’ he said loudly.

‘What a surprise!’ Fabricius cried. ‘Of course he was going to run away. What else would the dog do with a host of his countrymen so near? I bet that he waited until the very last moment before disappearing too. Congratulations! Hannibal has just gained himself another soldier.’

Quintus was stung by the truth in his father’s words. ‘It’s not like that,’ he said quietly.

‘How so?’ retorted Fabricius furiously.

‘Hanno didn’t run away.’

‘He’s dead then?’ Fabricius demanded in a mocking tone.

‘No, Father. I set him free,’ Quintus blurted.

‘
What?
’

With ebbing confidence, Quintus repeated himself.

Astonishment and disbelief mixed with the anger on Fabricius’ face. ‘This goes from bad to worse. How dare you?’ Stepping closer, he slapped Quintus hard across the face.

He reeled backwards from the force of the blow. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s a little late for apologies, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, Father.’

‘It is not within your power to act in this manner,’ Fabricius ranted. ‘My slaves belong to me, not you!’

‘I know, Father,’ Quintus muttered.

‘So why did you do it? What in Hades were you thinking?’

‘I owed him my life.’

Fabricius frowned. ‘You’re referring to what happened at Libo’s hut?’

‘Yes, Father. When he came back, Hanno could easily have turned on me. Joined the bandits. Instead, he saved my life.’

‘That’s still no reason to free him on a whim. Without my permission,’ Fabricius growled.

‘There’s more to it than that.’

‘I should damn well hope so!’ Fabricius looked at him enquiringly. ‘Well?’

Quintus snatched the brief respite from his father’s tirade. ‘Agesandros. He had it in for Hanno from the first moment I bought him. Don’t you remember what happened when the Gaul hurt his leg?’

‘An over-enthusiastic beating is no reason to free a slave,’ Fabricius snapped. ‘If it was, there would be no servile labour in the whole damn Republic.’

‘I know it isn’t, Father,’ said Quintus humbly. ‘But after your letter arrived in the spring, Agesandros planted a purse and a dagger among Hanno’s belongings. Then he accused him of stealing them, and planning to kill us all before he fled. He was going to sell Hanno to the same owner who had bought his friend. They were to be forced to fight each other as gladiators at a munus, he said. And it was all a complete lie!’

Fabricius thought for a moment. ‘What did your mother have to say?’

‘She believed Agesandros,’ Quintus answered reluctantly.

‘Which should have been good enough for you,’ Fabricius thundered.

‘But he was lying, Father!’

Fabricius’ brows lowered. ‘Why would Agesandros lie?’

‘I don’t know, Father. But I’m certain that Hanno is no murderer!’

‘You can’t
know
something like that,’ replied Fabricius dryly. Quintus took heart from the fact that some of the rage had gone from his voice. ‘Never trust a slave totally.’

Quintus rallied his courage. ‘In that case, how can you depend on Agesandros’ word?’

‘He’s served me well for more than twenty years,’ his father replied, a trifle defensively.

‘So you’d trust him over me?’

‘Watch your mouth!’ Fabricius snapped. There was a short pause. ‘Start at the beginning. Leave nothing out.’

Quintus realised that he had been granted a stay of execution. Taking a deep breath, he began. Remarkably, his father did not interrupt at all, even when Quintus related how Aurelia had set a fire in the granary, and how he and Gaius had freed Suniaton. When he fell silent, Fabricius stood, tapping his foot on the ground for several moments. ‘Why did you decide to help the other Carthaginian?’

‘Because Hanno would not leave without him,’ Quintus answered. Then he added, passionately, ‘He is my friend. I couldn’t betray him.’

‘Hold on!’ interrupted Fabricius, ire creeping back into his voice. ‘We’re not talking about Gaius here. Freeing a slave without the permission of his owner is a crime, and you have done it twice over! This is a very serious matter.’

Quintus quailed before his father’s fury. ‘Of course, Father. I’m sorry.’

‘Both of the slaves are long gone, if they have any sense,’ mused Fabricius. ‘Thanks to your impetuosity, I have been left more than a hundred didrachms out of pocket. So has the official’s son in Capua.’

Quintus wanted to say that Gaius had tried to buy Suniaton, but his father’s temper was at fraying point. Buttoning his lip, he nodded miserably.

‘As your father, I am entitled to punish you how I choose,’ Fabricius warned. ‘Even to strike you dead.’

‘I’m at your mercy, Father,’ said Quintus, closing his eyes. Whatever might happen next, he was still glad that he’d let Hanno go.

‘Although you and your sister have behaved outrageously, I heard the truth in your words - or at least the belief that you were speaking the truth. In other words, you did what you thought was right.’

Startled, Quintus opened his eyes. ‘Yes, Father. So did Aurelia.’

‘Which is why we’ll say no more about it for the moment. The matter is far from settled, however.’ Fabricius pursed his lips. ‘And Agesandros will have some explaining to do when next I see him.’

I hope I’m there to see that, thought Quintus, his own anger at the Sicilian resurfacing.

‘You still haven’t explained why you abandoned your mother and sister to make your way here.’ Fabricius pinned him with a hard stare.

‘I thought the war might be over in a few months, like Flaccus said, Father. I didn’t want to miss it,’ Quintus said lamely.

‘And that’s a good enough reason to disobey my orders, is it?’

‘No,’ Quintus replied, flushing an ever deeper shade of red.

‘Yet that’s precisely what you did!’ accused his father. He stared off into the distance. ‘It’s not as if I haven’t got enough on my plate at the moment.’

‘I’ll get out of your way. Return home,’ Quintus whispered.

‘You’ll do no such thing! The situation is far too dangerous.’ Fabricius saw his surprise. ‘Publius has decided to lead his forces over the river Padus, into hostile territory. A temporary bridge has already been thrown over to the far bank. Tomorrow morning, we march westward, towards Hannibal’s army. No Roman forces are to be left behind, and the local Gauls can’t be trusted. You’d have your throat cut within five miles of here.’

‘What shall I do, then?’ asked Quintus despondently.

‘You will have to come with us,’ his father replied, equally unhappily. ‘You’ll be safe in our camp until an opportunity presents itself to send you back to Capua.’

Quintus’ spirits fell even further. The shame of it! To have reached Publius’ army only to be prevented from fighting. It wasn’t that surprising, though. His actions had stretched his father’s goodwill to the limit. At least Hanno had got away, Quintus thought, counting himself lucky that Fabricius hadn’t given him a good hiding.

‘Fabricius? Where are you?’ cried a booming voice.

‘Mars above, that’s all I need,’ muttered Fabricius.

Astounded by his father’s reaction, Quintus turned to see Flaccus emerge into view.

‘There you are! Publius wants another meeting about—’ Flaccus stopped in astonishment. ‘Quintus? What a pleasant surprise!’

Quintus grinned guiltily. At least someone was pleased to see him.

‘You sent for Quintus, I presume?’ Flaccus didn’t wait for Fabricius to answer. ‘What an excellent idea! His timing is impeccable too.’ He raised a clenched fist at Quintus. ‘Tomorrow, we’re going to teach those bastard guggas a lesson they’ll never forget.’

‘I didn’t send for him,’ answered Fabricius stiffly. ‘He saw fit to leave
his mother and sister on their own and turn up here without so much as a by your leave.’

‘The rashness of youth!’ demurred Flaccus with a smile. ‘Nonetheless, you’ll let him ride out with us in the morning?’

‘I hadn’t planned on it, no,’ said Fabricius curtly.

‘What?’ Flaccus threw him an incredulous look. ‘And deny your son a chance to blood himself? To take part in what could be one of our greatest cavalry victories ever? Publius’ boy is to come along, and he’s no older than Quintus here.’

‘It’s not that.’

‘What is it, then?’

‘It’s none of your concern,’ said Fabricius angrily.

Flaccus barely blinked at the rebuff. ‘Come now,’ he cajoled. ‘Unless the lad has committed murder, surely he should be allowed to be part of this golden opportunity? This could be the glowing start to his career - a career that will only blossom once your family is allied to the Minucii.’

Furious, Fabricius considered his options. They were in this situation purely because of Flaccus’ pushiness, yet it would look rude now for him to turn down Flaccus’ proposal. It might also jeopardise Quintus’ chances of advancement. Even when wedded to Aurelia, Flaccus would be under no legal obligation to help his brother-in-law. It was all down to goodwill. He made a show of looking pleased. ‘Very well. I’ll ask the consul for his permission to let Quintus join my unit.’

‘Excellent!’ cried Flaccus. ‘Publius won’t turn down a cavalryman of your son’s quality.’

Quintus couldn’t believe the change in his fortunes. ‘Thank you,’ he said, grinning at both men. ‘I won’t let you down, Father.’

‘Consider yourself lucky,’ Fabricius growled. He stabbed a finger into Quintus’ chest. ‘You’re not out of trouble yet either.’

‘The glory he’ll win tomorrow will make you forget anything he ‘s done,’ declared Flaccus, giving Quintus a broad wink. ‘Now, we’d best not keep Publius waiting any longer.’

‘True,’ replied Fabricius. He pointed at a nearby tent. ‘There’s an empty space in that one. Tell the men in it that I said you were to bunk in with them. We’ll get you some equipment later.’

‘Yes, Father. Thank you.’

Fabricius did not reply.

‘Until tomorrow,’ said Flaccus. ‘We’ll cover the field with gugga bodies!’

Instantly, an image of Hanno appeared in Quintus’ mind’s eye. Forcing a grin, he did his best to shove it away. Defeating the Carthaginians was all that mattered, he told himself.