glaring at him.
Hannibal didn’t notice Hanno’s reticence. ‘A shame. Still, never mind. It’s unlikely that they would carry anything of importance on such a mission anyway.’
Hanno coughed awkwardly. ‘I didn’t manage to search him, sir.’
‘Why not?’ asked Hannibal, frowning.
‘Because I let him go, sir. Along with one other.’
The general’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘You had best explain yourself, son of Malchus. Fast.’
Hannibal’s intense stare was unnerving. ‘Yes, sir.’ Hanno hastily began. When he had finished, there was a pregnant silence. Hanno thought he was going to be sick.
Hannibal eyed Sapho and Bostar askance. ‘Presumably, he consulted with you two,’ he snapped.
‘Yes, sir,’ they mumbled.
‘What was your reaction, Bostar?’
‘Although it was against your orders, sir, I respected his reason for wanting to let the two men go.’
Hannibal looked at Sapho.
‘I violently disagreed, sir, but I was overruled.’
Hannibal regarded Zamar. ‘And you?’
‘I had nothing to do with it, sir,’ the Numidian replied neutrally. ‘I was a hundred paces away with my men.’
‘Interesting,’ said Hannibal to Hanno. ‘One brother supported you, one did not.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Is this what I am to expect in future when I issue a command?’ demanded Hannibal, his nostrils flaring.
‘No, sir,’ protested Bostar and Hanno. ‘Of course not,’ Hanno added.
Hannibal didn’t comment further. ‘Do I detect that there was quite an amount of disagreement?’
Hanno flushed. ‘You do, sir.’
‘Why was that?’
‘Because we were given orders to let none survive, sir!’ cried Sapho.
‘Finally, we come back to the nub of the issue,’ said Hannibal. In the background, Sapho smiled triumphantly. ‘Under ordinary circumstances, this situation would be black and white. And if you’d disobeyed my orders as you have done, I would have had you crucified.’
His words hung in the air like a bad smell.
Fear twisted Sapho’s face. ‘Sir, I…’ he began.
‘Did I ask you to speak?’ Hannibal snapped.
‘No, sir.’
‘Then keep your mouth shut!’
Humbled, Sapho obeyed.
Hanno wiped his brow, which was covered in sweat. I still did the right thing, he thought. I owed Quintus my life. Sure that, at the very least, a severe punishment was about to follow, he resigned himself to his fate. Beside him, Bostar was clenching and unclenching his jaw.
‘Yet what transpired happens but once in a host of lifetimes,’ said Hannibal.
Stunned, Hanno waited to hear what his general said next.
‘A man can’t go killing those who have helped him, even if they are Roman. I cannot think of a better way to anger the gods.’ Hannibal gave Hanno a grim nod. ‘You did the right thing.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ whispered Hanno. He’d never been so relieved in his life.
‘I will let you off, Bostar, because of the unique nature of what happened.’
Bostar stood rigidly to attention and saluted. ‘Thank you, sir!’
Hanno glanced at Sapho. His fear had been replaced by a poorly concealed expression of resentment. Did he want us to be punished? Hanno wondered uneasily.
‘As well as satisfying your honour, your lenient gesture fulfilled another purpose,’ Hannibal continued. ‘Those two men will speak of little but the excellence of our troops. Some of their comrades will be demoralised by what they hear, which helps our cause. Despite your disobedience, you have achieved the result I wanted.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘That’s not all,’ said Hannibal lightly.
Hanno’s fear returned with a vengeance. ‘Sir?’
‘There can be no repeat of such behaviour.’ Hannibal’s voice had grown hard. ‘You have paid off your obligation to this Quintus. Should you see either him or his father again, you can act in only one way.’
He’s right, screamed Hanno’s common sense. How can I remain friends with a Roman? Despite everything, his heart felt differently. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Trust me, those men would bury a sword in your belly as soon as look at you. They are the enemy,’ growled Hannibal. ‘If you meet either again, you will kill them.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Hanno said, finally giving in. But never let it happen.
‘Understand too that if any of you disobey my orders again, I will not be merciful. Instead, expect to end your miserable lives screaming on a cross. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied Hanno, shaking.
‘You’re dismissed,’ said Hannibal curtly. ‘All of you.’
Muttering their thanks, Zamar and the three brothers withdrew.
Sapho sidled up to Hanno outside. ‘Still think you did the right thing?’ he hissed.
‘Eh?’ Hanno gave his brother an incredulous look.
‘We could all be dead now, thanks to you.’
‘But we’re not! And it’s not as if such a thing will ever happen again, is it?’ demanded Hanno.
‘I suppose not,’ Sapho admitted, taken aback by Hanno’s fury.
‘I’m as loyal as you or any man in the damn army,’ Hanno snarled. ‘Line me up some Romans, and I’ll chop off all their fucking heads!’
‘All right, all right,’ muttered Sapho. ‘You’ve made your point.’
‘So have you,’ retorted Hanno angrily. ‘Did you want us to be punished in there?’
Sapho made an apologetic gesture. ‘Look, I had no idea he might crucify you.’
‘Would you have said anything to Hannibal if you had?’ challenged Bostar.
A guilty look stole across Sapho’s face. ‘No.’
‘You’re a fucking liar,’ said Bostar. Without another word, he walked off.
Hanno glared at Sapho. ‘Well?’
‘Do you really think I’d want the two of you to die? Please!’ Sapho protested. ‘Have some faith in me!’
Hanno sighed. ‘I do. I’m sorry.’
‘So am I,’ said Sapho, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Let’s forget about it, eh? Concentrate on fighting the Romans.’
‘Yes.’ Hanno glanced after Bostar, and his heart sank. His other brother looked angered by the friendly gesture Sapho had just made. Gods above, he thought in frustration, can I not get on with the two of them?
It appeared not.
Saturnalia was fast approaching. Despite Atia and Aurelia’s melancholy, preparations for the midwinter festival were well under way. It was a way, Aurelia realised, of coping with the void both of them felt inside at her father’s probable death, and the lack of word from Quintus. Life had to go on in some fashion, and losing themselves in mundane tasks had proved to be an effective method of maintaining normality. There was so much to be done that the short winter days flashed by in a blur. Atia’s list of things to do seemed never-ending. Each evening, Aurelia was worn out, and grateful that her exhaustion meant deep slumber without any bad dreams.
One night, however, Aurelia did not fall asleep as usual. Her mind was racing. She and her mother were going to Capua in two days on a final shopping expedition. Dozens of candles were still required as gifts for their family friends and the guests. Not all of the food for their impending feasts had been ordered yet — there had been a mix-up with the baker over what was needed, and the butcher wanted far too much money for his meat. Atia also wanted to purchase pottery figurines; these were exchanged on the last day of the celebrations.
Despite her best efforts, Aurelia found herself thinking about Suniaton. After meeting Agesandros, she and Elira had made their way to the hut without any difficulty. Pleasingly, Suni’s leg had healed enough for him to leave.
