Hannibal: Fields of Blood (17 page)

‘I hope it won’t come to that,’ replied Phanes mildly.

‘You dog! If I scream, people will come in here.’

‘They might, and they might not. If anyone is foolish enough to try, Achilles and Smiler will soon make them see the error of their ways.’

Phanes was right. From her mother’s silence, Aurelia knew that too. Even in daylight, few of Capua’s residents would intervene in a quarrel or a brawl. If blood was shed, the city guards might be called, but otherwise it was a case of dealing with one’s own problems. In a change of heart, she would have given anything for Agesandros to appear, but even he would have had his hands full dealing with two such large, determined-looking men.

‘As they can with anyone, should I give the order.’

‘You dare to threaten us?’ cried Atia.

‘Threat? What threat?’ Phanes’ smile did not reach his eyes. ‘I would merely like to talk about the money owed to me, a considerable sum that I would wager you are fully aware of.’

Atia’s lips tightened, but she did not reply, which told Aurelia that her mother
had
known of the money owed to Phanes. She must have been avoiding him, Aurelia thought. They had to get out of here, however. She scanned the room for anything that would serve as a weapon, but could see nothing. Panic flared in her chest. They won’t dare harm us, she told herself. Inside, though, she wasn’t so sure. She moved closer to her mother. It was time for solidarity. ‘Why are you detaining us? What do you want?’ Aurelia hoped that he heard the loathing in her words.

If he did, the Greek did not react. ‘The wolf cub speaks at last, and with a more civil tongue than its mother! I ask for an agreement, that’s all.’

‘What kind of agreement?’ demanded Atia.

‘Why, nothing more than I am entitled to. Regular payments towards the monies I am owed.’

‘And if I refuse?’ Atia’s eyes flickered over the heavies. ‘These two get sent in?’

‘Come now. You are a woman of high station. Despite your opinion, I am a civilised man,’ protested Phanes. ‘The courts would have to become involved.’ He locked eyes with Atia.

After a long moment, Atia sighed, and Aurelia knew that the Greek had won. She longed to throw herself at him, nails clawing at his face, but her fear of his men froze her feet to the spot. She listened as her mother said, ‘How often do you wish to be paid?’

‘Every month.’

‘Impossible!’

A predatory look. ‘Two-, or even three-monthly would also be acceptable, but I would have to increase the interest from two drachms in every hundred to four. That of course is in addition to the amounts that have accrued due to the lack of payments over the last year.’

‘You have the paperwork to prove what you say?’

‘Indeed. It is in my office, should you care to see it. Your husband’s signature was witnessed not just by me, but by my clerk.’

Aurelia could feel the helpless rage radiating from her mother. She felt it in her own belly, but if Phanes wasn’t lying – and her gut told her that he wasn’t – then he had them over a barrel. She would have given anything for her father to appear, to make everything right, but there was no hope of that. He was far away, fighting a war, and the gods only knew if he would ever return. Hopelessness mixed with her fear, drowning her anger.

‘Very well.’ Atia sounded older than Aurelia had ever heard her. ‘Where is your office?’

‘In the street that runs behind the courthouse, adjacent to a lawyer’s. You’ll see the sign.’

‘I will visit you there tomorrow morning to discuss . . . terms.’

‘It will be my pleasure.’ Phanes bowed deeply. ‘Achilles, Smiler. Outside, both of you. The lady doesn’t need your ugly faces marring her view of the world any more.’

The knot in Aurelia’s belly eased as the two withdrew. Determined to act as if nothing untoward had happened, as if she were their master instead of the other way around, she followed them. Her breath caught in her throat, however, when Smiler saw her purpose. He cupped a hand over his groin and licked his lips. Achilles snickered. Aurelia acted as if she hadn’t seen –
Show them no weakness! They will not dare touch me –
and stepped past them into the street. She walked straight into a passer-by. Balance lost, the heavies’ laughter ringing in her ears, Aurelia stumbled backwards with flailing arms.

Strong hands prevented her from falling, brought her back up to a standing position. ‘In a hurry, young lady?’

Aurelia looked into a pair of amused blue eyes. They belonged to a young man with an open face and short hair, dressed in a crisp white toga. He was perhaps a few years older than Quintus, and quite handsome. ‘No. Yes. No,’ she said, feeling a rush of heat as her cheeks coloured.

‘You’re not quite sure.’ He chuckled, but then his gaze fell on Achilles and Smiler. His eyes turned hard. ‘Have these brutes been troubling you?’

Joy filled Aurelia as she saw the trio of strongly built slaves behind him. There was no doubt in her mind that if she said a single word, her rescuer would set his men upon Phanes’. She glanced into the shop. The Greek was watching her, his face closed. The tiny shake of Atia’s head spoke volumes, however. Don’t make things worse than they already are, it said. ‘No. I wasn’t looking where I was going, that’s all. My apologies.’

‘A beautiful young lady has no need to make apologies.’ Finally, he released her arms, and Aurelia coloured even more. ‘My name is Lucius Vibius Melito.’

Atia was by Aurelia’s side before she’d even realised. ‘Atia, wife of Gaius Fabricius. This is my daughter, Aurelia.’

‘Honoured to make your acquaintance.’ He bowed. ‘My compliments on your daughter. She is without doubt the fairest young woman I have seen in Capua. The scent of jasmine she uses is quite . . . captivating.’

Aurelia’s eyes dropped. She was doubly embarrassed: firstly by his compliment, and secondly because there was only one place that she could have obtained the perfume. She would pay for it later.

‘You are too kind,’ Atia purred. ‘I have heard your name before. Doesn’t your family live to the south of Capua?’

‘Yes. My father and I are here visiting friends.’ Lucius’ gaze slid back to Aurelia, causing her to look away again.

‘As we are. Will you be here long?’

‘A couple of weeks at least.’

‘How nice. Perhaps we shall meet again, in the forum?’

‘It would be a pleasure,’ replied Lucius. His smile fell mostly on Aurelia.

‘Until then,’ said Atia. She tapped Aurelia lightly on the arm. ‘Come, daughter. We still have much to do.’

‘Goodbye,’ said Lucius.

‘Goodbye, and thank you,’ Aurelia managed before Atia led her away. She had a last glimpse of Achilles’ and Smiler’s scowls, Phanes’ slight frown and Lucius’ admiring look before the crowd swallowed them up. As she turned back, she found her mother watching her. She cringed inside, expecting a lecture about taking things that weren’t hers. But Atia didn’t mention the jasmine.

‘What a pleasant young man. He’s from a good family. I think one of his grandfathers might have been an aedile. He’s handsome, polite too, and not scared of helping someone in trouble. Didn’t you think?’

‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said Aurelia, hating the colour that gave the lie to her vague answer.

‘There’s no need to play coy with me. Did you like him or not?’

Aurelia looked around, self-conscious. Yet in the throng, no one would hear, or care. ‘He was nice, yes.’

‘So you wouldn’t object to meeting him again?’

Does nothing put her off?
Aurelia thought of Gaius, but couldn’t mention him. The last time she had, her mother had said that Martialis wasn’t wealthy enough. It was so unfair! Why could she never do what she wished?

‘Well?’

‘Does Father really owe Phanes forty thousand drachms?’

‘Lower your voice, child.’

Atia looked most discomfited, and Aurelia grew daring. ‘Well, does he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘The crops have been poor several times in the last few years, you know that. The money from the sale of the grain provides most of our income. If Father hadn’t borrowed from Phanes and . . .’ Atia hesitated for a heartbeat, before continuing, ‘. . . from Phanes—’

Aurelia interrupted, ‘He owes money to more than one moneylender?’

Shame flitted across Atia’s face. ‘It’s none of your concern.’

‘It is if we are to lose the estate. Our house. That’s what will happen if you can’t meet Phanes’ and the others’ demands, isn’t it?’

‘Gods grant me patience. Where do you get this attitude? If we weren’t in public, I would give you a good whipping!’

They glared at each other for a moment.

‘We are in some financial trouble, yes. But it’s nothing that your father and I cannot see through.’

Something in Atia’s tone gave Aurelia insight. ‘That’s it,’ she murmured in shock and anger. ‘That’s why you’ve been so keen to find me a husband, isn’t it? If I marry into a rich, powerful family, then the moneylenders will leave you and Father alone. Melito is just the latest candidate.’

Unusually, Atia could not meet her gaze.

Aurelia’s anger gave her courage. ‘Is that all I am to you? A belonging, to be sold to the highest bidder?’

Atia struck her across the face. ‘How dare you speak to me in that manner?’

‘I hate you!’ Aurelia turned and fled the way they had come.

Her mother’s cries followed her, but she paid them no heed.

Chapter VI

Near Arretium, north-central Italy

UNSURPRISINGLY, CALATINUS WASN’T
too happy about Quintus’ plan. They’d had their first real argument over it, but Quintus would not back down. As a placatory gesture, he’d asked Calatinus to come with him, but his friend had laughed. ‘If you think I’m going to give up being a cavalryman to become a
veles
, you’re insane.’ Calatinus had thought for a moment. ‘Clearly, you are insane, or you wouldn’t be doing this. Desertion is a serious crime. The oath you swore when you enlisted in the cavalry hasn’t been set aside yet, remember?’

‘I’ll still be serving,’ Quintus had shot back.

‘Your father won’t know that. No one will, except me, and I won’t be able to say. You’ll be called a traitor, and worse. All that risk, when you might well be back serving within the year?’

‘What if Hannibal is defeated in the next few months? I would forever be known in Capua as the man-child sent home by his father, who missed all the fighting. Could you live with that?’

Calatinus had seen the resolve in his eyes and thrown his hands in the air. ‘You’re going on your own. I’m having nothing to do with it.’

‘Fine,’ Quintus had said, more determined than ever. The draw of fighting with men who hadn’t run away from the Carthaginians was too great, especially when compared to helping run the family farm, which is what his mother would have him do. His fear that he would be known as someone who had not quite done his duty was very real. More than once, he had heard of the guilt suffered by soldiers who had missed a critical battle through injury.

They had got drunk together afterwards, and the following morning, when they’d had to leave, there had been no hard feelings. Calatinus had sworn not to say a word to anyone. Two days out from Flaminius’ camp – Quintus had ridden with his friend ostensibly to spend a last period of time together – he stopped to answer a call of nature and casually told the others not to wait for him. Calatinus had whispered a blessing and then ridden off with a cheery wave, saying he didn’t want to be around to smell the results of Quintus’ efforts.

Quintus waited for a short while before he headed back the way they had come. He rode hard but with care, moving off the road if he saw any Roman troops. Until he got close to the camp, it was imperative that he avoid being seen by anyone in Flaminius’ forces. After the comradeship of the previous months, it was odd sleeping out in the open and alone, but solitude, a little fire and the sound of wolves howling from the nearby mountains soon won him over. The following day, he rode to within five miles of Flaminius’ camp before reluctantly setting free his mount. There was little else he could do with it. He had to appear as poor as possible. With a little luck, the animal would be caught by a patrol. His few personal possessions were with Calatinus, and in the shelter of a thicket, he dumped his helmet, spear and shield, retaining only a simple dagger. Quintus stripped naked and donned his oldest clothes: a worn
licium
, or undergarment, and a roughly spun, off-white wool tunic. He even threw away his beloved calf-high leather boots in favour of a pair of caligae that he’d bought a few days earlier.

The magnitude of what he was about to do began to sink in as he set out on the road once more. The first patrol that passed by, a troop of Numidians, almost rode him down when Quintus didn’t move out of the way in time. A group of hastati were next, tramping by without so much as a second glance. Quintus doubted that many of them even saw him. His determination faltered a little. The things that he had thought about – dreaded – were about to become reality. He was starting life at the bottom of the social ladder. Apart from the few slaves in camp, everyone would regard him as inferior. It would take months, if not years, to achieve any kind of recognition. That was if he wasn’t killed in the first battle he took part in. Casualty rates among velites were often high. Quintus rallied his courage. I should have died at the Trebia, he told himself, but I didn’t. There’s no reason to suppose I’ll do so any quicker as a skirmisher. By doing this, I get to stay and fight Hannibal instead of being stuck at home. The certainty that he was doing the right thing solidified.

Quintus couldn’t help but think of his father, incandescent with fury, hearing the news that he hadn’t arrived home. It was very satisfying and brought a smile to his face. Seeing the gates of the camp, his pace increased. When he reached the velites on the gate, his pretence would begin. Quintus’ nerves jangled, but he had his story ready. They would ask what his business was, and he’d tell them that he was one of Fabricius’ servants. That would be enough to get him inside, to gain an audience with an officer. Then he’d find a section of velites. He wanted to approach the skirmishers who were attached to a maniple of triarii or principes, but there was no way that would work. As a ‘raw’ recruit with no officer to sponsor him, he would have to join the velites who served with a unit of hastati. On the upside, that meant he could seek out Corax, who had seemed a decent sort.