Quintus blushed. To cover his embarrassment, he turned expectantly to Hanno. ‘Come on, then. Fill them up.’
Hanno stiffened at the order, but did as he was told. His hand paused over the fourth glass, and he looked to Atia.
‘Yes, yes, pour one for Aurelia too. She’s practically a woman.’
Aurelia’s happy expression slipped away. ‘Have you found me a husband?’ she asked accusingly. ‘Is that why you’ve come back?’
Atia frowned. ‘Do not be so presumptuous!’
Aurelia’s cheeks flamed red and she hung her head.
‘I wish it were that simple, daughter,’ Fabricius answered. ‘While I have made some progress in that regard, there are far greater events occurring on the world stage.’ He clicked his fingers at Hanno, whose heart raced as he moved from person to person, distributing the wine.
‘What has happened?’ asked Atia.
Instead of answering, Fabricius raised his glass. ‘A toast,’ he said. ‘That the gods, and our ancestors, continue to smile on our family.’
Atia’s face tightened a fraction, but she joined in the salutation.
Quintus was less ruled by decorum than his mother, and jumped in the moment his father had swallowed. ‘Tell us why you’ve returned!’
‘Saguntum has fallen,’ Fabricius replied flatly.
Blood rushed through Hanno’s ears, and he was acutely aware of Quintus spinning to regard him. Carefully, he wiped a drop of wine from the jug’s lip with a cloth. Inside, every fibre of his being was rejoicing. Hannibal! his mind shouted. Hannibal!
Quintus’ gaze shot back to his father. ‘When?’
‘A week ago. Apparently, they spared virtually no one. Men, women, children. The few who survived were taken as slaves.’
Atia’s lips tightened. ‘Absolute savages.’
Hanno found Aurelia staring at him with wide, horrified eyes. It’s not as if your people don’t do exactly the same thing when they sack a city, he thought furiously. Of course he could say nothing, so he turned his face away.
In contrast to his sister, Quintus looked angry. ‘It was bad enough that the Senate did nothing to help one of our allies for the last eight months. Surely they’ll act now?’
‘They will,’ Fabricius replied. ‘In fact, they already have.’
The following silence echoed louder than a trumpet call.
‘An embassy has been sent to Carthage, its mission to demand that Hannibal and his senior officers be handed over immediately to face justice for their heinous actions.’
Hanno squeezed the cloth so hard that it dripped wine on to the mosaic between his feet.
No one noticed. Not that Hanno would have cared. How dare they? his mind screamed. Bastard Romans!
‘They will hardly do that,’ said Atia.
‘Of course not,’ Fabricius answered, unaware of Hanno’s silent but fervent agreement. ‘No doubt Hannibal has his enemies, but the Carthaginians are a proud race. They will want redress for the humiliations we subjected them to after the war in Sicily. This grants them that opportunity.’
Quintus hesitated for a moment. ‘You’re talking about war?’
Fabricius nodded. ‘I think that’s what it will come to, yes. There are those in the Senate who disagree with me, but I think they underestimate Hannibal. A man who has achieved what he has in a few short years would not have embarked on the siege of Saguntum without it being part of a larger plan. Hannibal wanted a war with Rome all along.’
How right you are, thought Hanno exultantly.
Quintus was also jubilant. ‘Gaius and I can join the cavalry!’
Fabricius’ obvious pride was tempered by Atia’s reticence. Even she could not hide the sadness that flashed across her eyes. Her composure returned quickly. ‘You will make a fine soldier.’
Quintus blew out his chest with satisfaction. ‘I must tell Gaius. Can I go to Capua?’
Fabricius gave an approving nod. ‘Go on. You’ll need to hurry. It’s not long until dark.’
‘I’ll come back tomorrow.’ With a grateful smile, Quintus was gone.
Looking after him, Atia sighed. ‘And the other matter?’
‘There is some good news.’ Seeing Aurelia’s instant interest, Fabricius clammed up. ‘I’ll tell you later.’
Aurelia’s face fell. ‘Everything is so unfair,’ she cried, and hurried off to her room.
Atia touched Fabricius’ arm to still his rebuke. ‘Let her go. It must be hard for her.’
Hanno was oblivious to the family drama. Suddenly, his desire to escape, to reach Iberia and join his countrymen in their conflict, was overwhelming. It was what he had dreamed of for so long! Yet his debt to Quintus loomed large in his mind too. Had it been repaid by what he’d done at the shepherd’s hut or not? Hanno wasn’t sure. Then there was Suniaton. How could he even entertain leaving without trying to find his best friend? Hanno was grateful when he heard Julius’ voice calling him. The conflicting emotions in his head were threatening to tear him apart.
Time went by, and Hanno was still working in the kitchen. Although an answer regarding his obligation to Quintus evaded him yet, he could not bring himself to abandon the farm without some attempt to find Suniaton. How the quest would be achieved, Hanno had no idea. Apart from him, who knew, or even cared, where Suniaton was now? The unanswerable dilemma kept him awake at night, and even distracted him from his usual lustful thoughts about Elira. Tired and irritable, he paid little attention one day when Julius announced an exhaustive menu that Atia had ordered for the following evening. ‘Apparently, she and the master are expecting an important visitor,’ said Julius pompously. ‘Caius Minucius Flaccus.’
‘Who in the name of Hades is that?’ asked one of the cooks.
Julius gave him a disapproving look. ‘He’s a senior figure in the Minucii clan, and the brother of a former consul.’
‘He’ll be an arrogant prick then,’ muttered the cook.
Julius ignored the titters this produced. ‘He’s also a member of the embassy that has just returned from Carthage,’ he declared as if the matter were of some importance to him.
Hanno’s stomach turned over. ‘Really? Are you sure?’
Julius’ lips pursed. ‘That’s what I heard the mistress saying,’ he snapped. ‘Now get on with your work.’
Hanno’s heart was thudding off his ribs like that of a caged bird as he went out to the storage sheds. Would Fabricius’ visitor speak of what he’d seen? Hanno begged the gods that he would. Passing the entrance to the heated bathroom, he saw Quintus stripping off. Well for him, thought Hanno sourly. He hadn’t had a hot bath since leaving Carthage.
Blithely unaware of Hanno’s feelings, Quintus’ excitement was rising by the moment. Wanting to look his best that evening, he bathed, before enjoying a massage by a slave. Sleepily imagining how Flaccus might recount everything that had gone on in Carthage, he was barely aware of Fabricius entering the room.
‘This visit is very important, you know.’
Quintus opened his eyes. ‘Yes, Father. And we will play our part in the war, if it comes.’
Fabricius half smiled. ‘That goes without saying. When Rome calls, we answer.’ Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked up and down in silence.
The feel of the strigil on his skin began to irritate Quintus, and he gestured at the slave to stop. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s about Aurelia,’ Fabricius answered.
‘You’ve arranged to marry her off, then,’ he said, shooting his father a bitter glance.
‘It’s not definite yet,’ said Fabricius. ‘But Flaccus liked what he heard of Aurelia when I visited him in the capital some time ago. Now he wants to see her beauty for himself.’
Quintus scowled at his naivete. Why else would a high-ranking politician pay a social visit to equestrians as lowly as they?
‘Come now,’ said Fabricius sternly. ‘You knew this would happen one day. It’s for the good of the family.
