Quintus saw his interest and frowned. ‘You know how to use one of these?’
Hanno jerked back to the present. ‘Yes,’ he muttered unwillingly.
‘How?’
‘My father used to train me.’ Hanno deliberately made no mention of his brothers.
‘Is he a soldier?’
‘He was,’ lied Hanno. The less Quintus knew, the better.
‘Did he fight in Sicily?’
Hanno nodded reluctantly.
Quintus looked surprised. ‘So did mine. He spent years in the cavalry there. Father says that your people were worthy enemies, who only lacked a decent leader.’
No longer, thought Hanno triumphantly. Hannibal Barca will change all that. With an effort, he shrugged at Quintus. ‘Maybe.’
Quintus’ mouth opened to ask another question.
‘Let’s practise!’ interjected Aurelia.
To Hanno’s relief, the moment passed. Quintus responded to his sister’s demand, and the two began sparring gently with the gladii.
Hanno headed off to check their snares. Shortly afterwards, and some distance from the clearing, he found the trail of a wild boar. He hurried back with the news as fast as his manacles would let him. Because of its rich flavour, boar meat was highly prized. The creatures were secretive too, and hard to find. An opportunity to kill one should not be passed up. Hanno’s news immediately stopped Quintus practising with Aurelia. Sheathing the gladii, he rolled them up in a blanket and stuffed them into his pack. ‘Come on!’ he cried, sweeping up his bow.
Aurelia rushed after him. She was as keen as any to bring a boar back to the house.
Within a hundred paces, Hanno had fallen well behind. ‘I can’t go any faster,’ he explained when the young Romans turned impatiently.
‘We might as well give up now, then,’ said Quintus with a scowl. ‘Or you can just stay here.’ He had the grace to flush.
Despite this, Hanno clenched his fists. I found the damn trail, he thought. Not you.
There was a short, uncomfortable pause.
‘I can help,’ Aurelia announced suddenly. From inside her dress she produced a small bunch of keys. Kneeling by Hanno’s side, she tried several on one of his anklets before it fell apart.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ demanded Quintus.
Aurelia ignored him. Smiling broadly at Hanno, she opened the other. She couldn’t help thinking how like the statue of a Greek athlete he looked.
Incredulous, Hanno lifted his feet one after another. ‘Baal Hammon’s beard, that feels good.’
Quintus stepped forward. ‘How in Hades did you get those keys?’
Aurelia swelled with pride. ‘You know how Agesandros likes to drink in the evenings. He’s often snoring before Vespera. All I had to do was creep in and take an impression of each in wax, and get the smith to make them for me. I told him that they were for Father’s chests, and gave him a few coins to make sure he told no one.’
Quintus’ eyes widened at his sister’s daring, but he still wasn’t happy. ‘Why did you do it?’
Aurelia wasn’t going to admit the real reason, which was that she had come to abhor Hanno’s fetters. Most slaves didn’t have theirs removed until they’d been around for years and were no longer deemed a flight risk, but a small number were never trusted. Naturally, Agesandros had persuaded Fabricius that Hanno fell into this category. ‘For a day like this,’ she challenged, lifting her chin. ‘So we could hunt properly.’
‘He’ll run away!’ Quintus cried.
‘No, he won’t,’ Aurelia retorted hotly. She turned to Hanno. ‘Will you?’
Caught off guard by the bizarre situation, and stunned by Aurelia’s action, Hanno stuttered to find an answer. ‘N-no, of course not.’
‘There!’ Aurelia gestured in triumph at her brother.
‘You believe that? He’s a slave!’
Aurelia’s eyes blazed. ‘Hanno is trustworthy, Quintus, and you know it!’
Quintus matched her gaze for a moment. ‘Very well.’ He looked at Hanno. ‘Do you give your word not to run away?’
‘I swear it. May Tanit and Baal Hammon, Melqart and Baal Saphon be my witnesses,’ said Hanno in a steady voice.
‘If you’re lying,’ muttered Quintus, ‘I’ll hunt you down myself.’
Hanno stared stolidly back at him. ‘Fine.’
Quintus gave him a curt nod. ‘Lead on, then.’
Relishing the freedom of being able to run for the first time in months, Hanno bounded off towards the spot where he’d seen the boar’s spoor. Of course he thought of escape, but there was no way Hanno would break the vow he’d just made.
Frustratingly, the boar proved elusive to the point of exasperation.
An hour later, they had still not laid eyes on it. The animal’s trail had led them to a point where the forest thinned as it climbed the mountain slope above, and there it had disappeared. A large area of bare rock meant that their chances of finding it again were very slim.
Quintus looked at the darkening sky and cursed. ‘We’ll have to give up soon. I don’t fancy spending the night here. Let’s spread right out. That’s probably our best option.’
While Aurelia walked off to Quintus’ left, Hanno moved slowly to the right. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, but saw nothing at all for a good two hundred paces. His gaze wandered to the slopes above them. Much of the ground was covered in short scrubby grass, and fit only for sheep or goats.
Hanno frowned. Some distance above them, and partially obscured by a scattering of juniper and pine trees, he could see a small wooden structure. Smoke rose lazily from a hole in the apex of its roof. Latticed fencing around it revealed the presence of sheep pens. It didn’t surprise him. Like most landowners, Fabricius’ flocks wandered the hills during the spring and summer, accompanied by solitary shepherds and their dogs. Makeshift huts, and enclosures for the animals, were situated regularly across the landscape, shelter in case of bad weather and protection against predators such as wolves. To his astonishment, however, Hanno heard the sound of bleating. He looked up at the sky. It was early for the animals to be back from pasture. He glanced at Quintus, who was still casting about for signs of the boar. Aurelia was visible beyond. She too appeared oblivious.
Hanno was about to give a low whistle, when something stopped him. Instead, he trotted back towards the two Romans.
Quintus grew excited as he saw Hanno approach. ‘Seen something?’
‘The sheep up there are penned in,’ said Hanno. ‘A bit soon, isn’t it?’
Quintus raised a hand to his eyes. ‘By Jupiter, you’re right,’ he admitted, annoyed that he hadn’t noticed first. ‘Libo is the shepherd around here. He’s a good man, not one to avoid work.’
Hanno’s stomach clenched.
‘I’m not happy.’ Quintus took off his pack and emptied it on the ground. He unrolled the cloak. Carefully shoving one gladius into his belt, he handed the other to Aurelia, who had caught up with them. ‘You probably won’t need it,’ he said with a falsely confident smile. Bending the stave with his knee, Quintus slipped his bowstring into place. There were ten arrows in his quiver. Plenty, he thought.
‘What’s wrong?’ Aurelia demanded.
‘Probably nothing,’ replied Quintus reassuringly. ‘I’m just going to take Hanno and check out that hut.’
Fear flared in Aurelia’s eyes, but when she spoke, her voice was steady. ‘What shall I do?’
‘Remain here,’ Quintus ordered. ‘Stay hidden. Under no circumstances are you to follow us. Is that clear?’
She nodded. ‘How long should I wait?’
‘A quarter of an hour, no more. If we haven’t reappeared by then, return to the farm as fast as you can. Find Agesandros, and tell him to bring plenty of men. Well armed.’
At this, Aurelia’s composure cracked. ‘Don’t go up there,’ she whispered. ‘Let’s just fetch Agesandros together.’
