Flaccus is not that old, and his clan is powerful and well connected. With the support of the Minucii, the Fabricii could go far.’ He stared at Quintus. ‘In Rome, I mean. You understand what I’m saying?’
Quintus sighed. ‘Does Aurelia know yet?’
‘No.’ It was Fabricius’ turn to look troubled. ‘I thought I would speak to you first.’
‘Make me part of it?’
‘Don’t take that line with me. You would also benefit,’ snapped his father.
Excitement flared in Quintus’ breast, and he hated himself for it. He’d seen Aurelia mooning over Hanno. An impossible infatuation for her, but one he’d done nothing to end. And now this. ‘What made you decide on Flaccus?’
‘I’ve been trying to organise something for the last two years,’ Fabricius replied. ‘Searching for the right man for our family, and for Aurelia. It’s a tricky business, but I think Flaccus could be the one. He was going to be passing close to here anyway upon his return from Carthage. All I did was to make sure that an invitation was waiting for him when he landed.’
Quintus was surprised by his father’s cunning. No doubt his mother had had a hand in it, he thought. ‘How old is he?’
‘Thirty-five or so,’ said Fabricius. ‘That’s a lot better than some of the old goats who wanted to meet her. I hope she appreciates that.’ He paused. ‘One last thing.’
Quintus looked up.
‘Don’t ask any questions about what happened in Carthage,’ his father warned. ‘It is still a matter of state secrecy. If Flaccus chooses to fill us in on some of the details, so be it. If he does not, it’s none of our business to ask.’ With that, he was gone.
Quintus lay back on the warm stone slab, but all his enjoyment was gone. He would go to Aurelia the moment his father had finished speaking with her. What he would say, Quintus had no idea. His mood dark, he got dressed. The best place to watch Aurelia’s doorway unobtrusively was from a corner of the tablinum. Quintus made his way to the large reception room. He hadn’t been there long when Hanno entered, carrying a tray of crockery.
Seeing Quintus, Hanno smiled. ‘Looking forward to this evening?’ I am, he thought with glee.
‘Not really,’ Quintus replied dourly.
Hanno raised his eyebrows. ‘Why not? You don’t receive many visitors.’
Quintus was surprised to find that his excitement about what Flaccus might say was muted by his friendship with Hanno. ‘It’s hard to explain,’ he replied awkwardly.
At that moment, Fabricius strode from Aurelia’s room, banging the door behind him. His jaw was set with anger.
Their conversation instantly came to an end. Hanno could only watch as Quintus entered his sister’s chamber in turn. Hanno was genuinely fond of Aurelia. Part of him wondered what was going on, but part of him didn’t care. Finally, Carthage was at war with Rome once more.
Somehow, he would be involved in it.
Quintus found Aurelia lying on her bed, huge sobs racking her body. He rushed to kneel by her side. ‘It will be all right,’ he whispered, reaching out to stroke her hair. ‘Flaccus sounds like a good man.’
Her crying redoubled, and Quintus muttered a curse. Mentioning the man’s name was the worst possible thing he could have done. Not knowing what to do, he rubbed Aurelia’s shoulders comfortingly. They stayed in that position without talking for a long time. Finally, Aurelia rolled over. Her cheeks were red and blotchy, and her eyes swollen from weeping. ‘I must look terrible,’ she said.
Quintus gave her a crooked smile. ‘You’re still beautiful,’ he replied.
She stuck out her tongue. ‘Liar.’
‘A bath will help,’ advised Quintus. He put on a jovial face. ‘Won’t it?’
Aurelia could not keep up the pretence. ‘What am I going to do?’ she whispered miserably.
‘It was going to happen sometime,’ said Quintus. ‘Why don’t you give him the benefit of the doubt? If you really hate him, Father would not make you go ahead with the marriage.’
‘I suppose not,’ Aurelia replied dubiously. She thought for a moment. ‘I know I have to do what Father says. It’s so hard, though, especially when…’ Her voice died away, and new tears filled her eyes.
Quintus raised a finger to her lips. ‘Don’t say it,’ he whispered. ‘You can’t.’ He didn’t want to hear it spoken out loud.
With great effort, Aurelia regained control of her emotions. She nodded resolutely. ‘Better get ready, then. I have to look my best tonight.’
Quintus drew her into a warm embrace. ‘That’s the spirit,’ he whispered. Possessing courage was not an exclusively male quality, he realised. Nor was it confined to the battlefield or the hunt. Aurelia had just shown that she had plenty of it too.
Flaccus arrived mid-afternoon, accompanied by a large party of slaves and soldiers, and was immediately ushered to the best guest room to freshen up. Apart from his personal slaves, most of Flaccus’ retinue stayed outside, where they were quartered in the farmyard. Hanno was busy in the kitchen and saw little of the proceedings for some time. An hour later, loud voices announced the appearance of Martialis and Gaius. They were greeted jovially by Fabricius, and guided to the banqueting hall off the courtyard where, following tradition, they were first served mulsum, a mixture of wine and honey. Elira performed this task, leaving Hanno to wait impatiently in the kitchen. As darkness fell, he walked around the courtyard, lighting the bronze oil lamps that hung from every pillar. At the corner furthest from the tablinum, Hanno sensed movement behind him. He turned, gaining an impression of a handsome man in a toga with thick black hair and a big nose before Flaccus disappeared into the banqueting hall. Quintus and his sister arrived soon after, wearing their best clothes. Hanno had never seen Aurelia wearing make-up before. To his surprise, he liked what he saw.
Finally, the meal was ready, and Hanno could enter the room with the other slaves. He was to remain there for the duration of the meal, serving food, clearing away plates and, most importantly of all, listening to the conversation. He waited attentively behind the left-hand couch, where Fabricius reclined with Martialis and Gaius. As an important guest, Flaccus had been given the central couch, while Atia, Quintus and an impassive Aurelia occupied the right-hand one. In customary fashion, the fourth side of the table had been left open.
Flaccus spent much of his time complimenting Aurelia on her looks and trying to engage her in conversation. His attempts met with little initial success. Finally, when Atia began to glare at her openly, she started to respond. To Hanno, it was obvious that she was being insincere, merely doing what her mother wished. Flaccus did not seem to notice this, or that apart from Fabricius, the others present did not dare to address him. Quintus and Gaius alone cast frequent glances at Flaccus, hoping in vain for news of Carthage. Quaffing large amounts of mulsum and wine, the black-haired politician seemed more and more taken by Aurelia as the night went on.
Over the sweet platters, Flaccus turned to Fabricius. ‘My compliments on your daughter. She is as beautiful as you said. More so, perhaps.’
Fabricius inclined his head gravely. ‘Thank you.’
‘I think we should talk further on this matter in the morning,’ boomed Flaccus. ‘Come to a mutually satisfactory arrangement.’
Fabricius allowed himself a small smile. ‘That would be a great honour.’
Atia murmured her agreement.
‘Excellent.’ Flaccus looked at Hanno. ‘More wine.’
Hanno hurried forward, his face a neutral mask. He wasn’t sure how he felt about what had just been said. Not that it mattered, he reflected bitterly. Here I am a slave. His resentment over his status surged back, stronger than ever, and he dismissed his concern about Aurelia’s possible betrothal. The bonds that tied him to the farm were weakening. If Aurelia married Flaccus, she would go to live in Rome. Quintus was always talking about joining the army. When he left, Hanno would be left friendless and alone. On the spot, he resolved to begin planning his escape.
Quintus had decided that Flaccus seemed quite personable and glanced sidelong at Aurelia. He was delighted to see no sign of distress in her face, and marvelled at her equanimity. Then he noted the slight flush to her cheeks, and her empty glass. Was she drunk? It wouldn’t take much. Aurelia rarely consumed wine. In spite of this, Quintus found his head full of the possibilities that an alliance between the Fabricii and Minucii would create. Aurelia and Flaccus would get used to each other, he told himself. That’s the way most marriages worked. He reached out to
