Hannibal: Fields of Blood (16 page)

In that moment, Quintus absolutely hated his father.

Fabricius rounded on Calatinus. ‘Are you going to protest too?’

‘No, sir. I’d rather not leave, but if those are your orders, then I shall follow them.’

‘Fine. As you were.’ Fabricius ducked out of the tent without another word.

Furious, Quintus watched him go.
Curse him to Hades!

‘By all the gods, that was unexpected,’ muttered Calatinus.

‘For you maybe, but not for me,’ said Quintus bitterly. ‘At least you have a chance of getting to close with Hannibal. I’ll be stuck at home, with the women.’

‘Being around your father isn’t good for you. All you do is clash off one another. Maybe a period away from him will do you some good. Who’s to say that the war will end soon anyway? Hannibal seems to be a shrewd leader. I’d wager that we’ll still be fighting him in twelve months. Your father won’t be able to deny you a place in the cavalry forever. Just keep your nose clean at home. Make sure your mother is happy.’

Quintus didn’t bother arguing. In his mind, his father would prevent him from ever serving again. That had made up his mind for once and for all. If ever there had been a perfect opportunity to approach Corax about joining the velites, it was now. That way, he could stay in Flaminius’ army, close to Hannibal. His father would never know. He won’t send me home, Quintus thought furiously. I’ll be my own master. Learn to fight as an infantryman.

It was a good feeling.

Capua

Aurelia’s spirits lifted as they left the temple of Mars. She hadn’t begrudged visiting to pray for Flaccus’ soul the first time, but it seemed a bit much to have to do it again and again. Her mother said that it was important, however, and Aurelia was playing it safe by not arguing. To be fair, she was sorry he was dead. The one and only time that she had met Flaccus, he had seemed personable. She had even fallen a little for his looks, and his air of confidence and power. But then he had gone to Rome, taking her father, and she had not seen him again. There had been one letter, and then nothing. Aurelia felt a twinge of remorse. There would have been more communications, but the war had been more important than writing to her, a mere child. Soon after, Flaccus had been killed. It was sad, but she wasn’t going to spend her life grieving over a man she had not known at all.

Their duties done, they could soon visit Gaius and Martialis, his father. Her heart leaped. Gaius had been away, training with his unit, on the previous occasion they had been to Capua. Aurelia loved Martialis, but seeing him instead of his son was not the same. How she hoped he would see past her status as Quintus’ sister today. She was wearing her best dress, all of her jewellery, and even a hint of perfume filched from a vial belonging to her mother. With a little luck, it would go unnoticed, but Aurelia was careful not to go too near Atia, whose sense of smell was impressive. So too was her ability to see through Aurelia’s actions.

‘That went well, I thought,’ said Atia.

‘Yes,’ mumbled Aurelia. How could one judge? she wondered. It wasn’t as if the statue of Mars responded in any way, to anyone. It just stood there, imperious and regal, glaring down at the long, narrow room that formed the centrepiece of the temple.

Atia turned with a frown. ‘I hope that your prayers for Flaccus were sincere?’

Aurelia caught the first warning sign fast. Best not to start an argument before they had even seen Gaius. ‘They were heartfelt, Mother,’ she lied, using her most sincere voice.

Atia’s face relaxed. ‘His soul will rest easier knowing that he is still remembered. You remembered to ask the gods to watch over Father and Quintus?’

‘Of course!’ This time, Aurelia’s reaction was entirely unfeigned.

‘Good. To the market, then. There are things I forgot to tell Agesandros to get.’

Aurelia’s eyes darted towards the crowd at the mention of the overseer, but, to her relief, there was no sign of him. With luck, they wouldn’t see Agesandros until later, at Martialis’ house. Buying everything on Atia’s list would take time. Not as long as it normally would, however. She had noticed on their last visit that her mother had not ordered as much food as usual; today it had been the same. Aurelia didn’t ponder the thought for long; already her head was full of images of Gaius. Smiling as he saw her. Resplendent in his uniform. Offering her his arm so that they might go for a walk. Complimenting her on her appearance. Stooping to brush his lips against hers . . .

‘Spare a coin, young lady!’

Aurelia blinked, and flinched in horror. A beggar clad in rags stood before her. His leathery palm and the shiny nubs where his fingers should have been waggled under her nose. The disfigurement didn’t end there. The man had almost no nose, just two gaping holes under his inflamed, weeping eyes. His skin was scaly like that of a snake and lay in odd, disturbing angles. Round swellings peppered his face, small things no bigger than a fingernail to lumps the size of a peach stone. Aurelia had seen lepers on countless occasions, but at a distance. They were normally kept outside Capua by the guards at the gate. She had never been this close to one. She recoiled, fear twisting her guts that the disease might transfer to her. ‘I have no money.’

‘A wealthy young lady like you?’ The leper’s tone was unctuous but disbelieving. The stump of a hand waved at her again. ‘Even the smallest coin would help, if it please you.’

‘Get away from my daughter!’

The leper shrank back from Atia, fawning.

‘Aesculapius keep us from such a fate.’ Atia’s hand beckoned. ‘Step around him.’

Aurelia couldn’t help but look at the leper again. Although she was repulsed by his appearance, she felt a deep pity for him too. To be condemned to a slow, living death – she could think of few things that were worse. ‘Please, Mother. Give him something.’

Atia studied her for a moment; then she sighed and reached for her purse.
What difference will a single coin make to our problems?
‘Here.’ A hemidrachm
flashed in the air. The leper reached up for it, but was unable to catch it with his ruined hands. The small piece of silver dropped to the dirt, and he scrabbled after it, calling down the blessings of the gods on both of them.

Looking down, Aurelia gaped. He had no toes left on his left foot. Where his right foot had been, there was just a scarred bump of flesh loosely covered with a rag.

‘Come on, child. That will see him fed for a few days at least.’ Atia’s voice was kind.

They walked away, fast. The leper vanished into the crowd.

‘I won’t get his disease, will I?’ Aurelia’s initial fear had returned.

‘With the blessings of the gods, no. He didn’t touch you, and you weren’t close to him for long enough.’ Atia cast a look over her shoulder. ‘The men on the gate must have been half asleep this morning to let a creature like that inside the walls.’ Her nose twitched; fearing that her mother had smelled her perfume, Aurelia took a step away. A moment later, Atia glided on, and Aurelia thanked the gods for a lucky escape.

They stopped first at a potter’s and then at a wine merchant’s premises. There Atia began haggling with the owner over the quality of the most recent wine she had ordered. Aurelia soon grew bored. The earrings and necklaces displayed in the entrance to a jeweller’s shop opposite caught her eye, and she stepped outside to take a closer look. As she did, a short, balding man in a fine Greek chiton brushed against her. He muttered an apology; her mind on the array of trinkets, she took little notice.

The jeweller, a beady-eyed Egyptian, was quick to see Aurelia’s interest. ‘Can I be of service?’

She gave him a smile. ‘I’m just looking.’

‘Please, my shop is yours. Try on anything you like.’

Aurelia sighed. She had no money of her own. She threw a wistful glance at Atia, but there was no point in asking. Her answer would be that the jewellery Aurelia was wearing – a pair of gold pendants decorated with beads of blue glass, and a simple gold ring decorated with a red garnet – was more than adequate. Until her wedding day, her mother would not be purchasing her any more. Sudden mischief took her. The shopkeeper didn’t have to know that she wouldn’t be buying. ‘I like this,’ she announced, pointing to a necklace hung with dozens of small tubular red and black stones.

‘Carnelian and jet, that is,’ said the jeweller. ‘From Parthia. Beautiful, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Want to try it on?’ His hands were already undoing the clasp. ‘It will suit your complexion. Your husband will love it, and it won’t cost him the sun and moon.’

Aurelia didn’t disabuse him. Gaius might like it, she thought. She was about to allow him to place it around her neck when she heard raised voices. Her head turned. Inside the wine merchant’s, she could see the short man who’d bumped into her facing her mother, who looked furious. Her curiosity was roused. ‘Thank you. Maybe another time.’ She walked out, ignoring the protests of the perplexed jeweller.

She crossed the street, weaving her way through the passers-by. A pair of burly men loitering close to the vintner’s eyed her up as she went by. One made a smacking noise with his lips. Used to such attention, Aurelia ignored them.

The wine merchant’s was a typical, open-fronted shop. A long, rectangular room led in from the arched entrance. Oil lamps flickered from alcoves. A painted statue of Bacchus and his maenads watched from a shelf. On either side, lines of amphorae were propped against the wall or nestled in beds of straw, and a low counter where customers could stand to taste the shop’s wines was situated at the back of the room. Atia was ten steps from the doorway, a cup in her hand. The wine merchant stood alongside, looking decidedly embarrassed. The short man stood close to her, his hands raised in apparent placation.

‘All I am saying, my good lady, is that these things need to be talked about,’ he said as Aurelia drew near.

‘This is no place to discuss such matters,’ snapped Atia. ‘How dare you approach me here?’

A shrug. ‘Would you rather I had come to Martialis’ house?’

Atia’s lips pinched white.

‘What’s going on, Mother?’ asked Aurelia.

‘It’s nothing important.’

The short man turned. His brown eyes moved up and down, appraising her lasciviously. Her skin crawled. ‘Ah. This must be your daughter. Aurelia, if I am not mistaken?’

‘Yes. And you are?’

His oiled ringlets moved as he inclined his head. ‘Phanes, moneylender, at your service.’

Aurelia was no less confused, but before she could enquire further, her mother was moving towards the door. ‘Come on,’ said Atia. ‘We’re leaving.’ Aurelia knew better than to argue, and followed.

Phanes moved fast for one so small. In the blink of an eye, he had placed himself in front of Atia. ‘There is still the matter of your husband’s debt. We haven’t discussed it.’

‘Nor shall we!’ snapped Atia. She tried to move past Phanes, but he blocked her way.

Aurelia could not believe her eyes, or her ears.

‘Get out of my way, you low-down piece of Greek filth!’ Atia ordered.

Phanes didn’t move. ‘Lowly I might be, and Greek I certainly am. That doesn’t make the forty thousand drachms that your husband owes me disappear.’

‘You will have your money! You know he is good for it, damn your eyes.’

‘With his breeding and yours, one would think so, but I haven’t seen as much as a drachm for more than a year. A man can’t live on silence and missed payments. He’d starve.’

‘Fabricius is not here. There’s a war on, in case you hadn’t noticed!’

‘No doubt Fabricius is doing us and the Republic proud, but that doesn’t mean he can renege on what he owes. For the first few months last year, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He had been sent to Iberia with Scipio after all. After my enquiries revealed that he had returned and been ordered to Cisalpine Gaul, I sent him a letter. There was no reply.’

‘He probably never received it. Everything is chaos up there. The damn Gauls kill most of the messengers.’

A sly smile. ‘I sent my message by ship.’

Atia’s composure slipped for a heartbeat. ‘That still doesn’t mean he received it.’

‘True. But when the second and then the third letters went unanswered, I decided it was time to take things up with you. I would have paid you a visit soon, but my sources told me that you were to visit the city this very day. What a perfect opportunity to chat. To find out if you had had word from your husband concerning this matter.’

Atia did not so much as acknowledge Phanes’ comment. She looked at him as if he were a snake. ‘Who told you I was coming to Capua? Martialis would not say a word to anyone that wasn’t a friend.’

Nor would Gaius, thought Aurelia.

Phanes’ smile widened.

‘A slave,’ spat Atia. ‘One of Martialis’ slaves is in your employ.’

‘I have ears all over Capua.’ Phanes’ hands fluttered. ‘I’m a moneylender. Men such as I need to know what people are talking about. Who is worried, who wants to try a new business venture and other titbits like that.’

‘You’re a blood-sucking leech,’ Atia retorted.

Phanes made a
tutting
noise. ‘Your husband was always far more polite. Especially when he wanted an extension to his loan. It must be the Roman breeding.’

Atia did not deign to answer. ‘Aurelia!’ This time, Phanes made no move to stop her. His head half turned. ‘Achilles! Smiler!’

The two men whom Aurelia had spotted filled the doorway. They were unarmed, but their expressions were far from friendly. ‘Boss?’ asked the first one, a thug with curving scars that ran from the corners of his lips across both his cheeks.

Aurelia felt sick. That one had to be Smiler. She knew his type; had seen them before. The pair were ex-gladiators, now the Greek’s paid heavies.

‘No one is to leave the shop until I say so,’ announced Phanes.

‘Yes, boss.’ The pair moved to stand shoulder to shoulder, blocking the way to the street. There was a muted squawk from the wine merchant about damage to his goods being a crime before he vanished into the back of the shop.

Atia drew herself up to her full height. ‘What are you going to do? Order these creatures to lay hands on us?’