Hannibal: Clouds of War (14 page)

‘No one can remember one face out of many thousands! His word is enough. Hannibal states that you’re an experienced infantry officer,’ said Epicydes, his eyes appraising.

‘That’s true, General. I fought at the Trebia, Trasimene and Cannae, and most of the battles in between and since.’

‘It’s a mark of Hannibal’s esteem that he picked you for this mission, and that he gave you this.’ Epicydes picked up the ring and admired it. ‘Here.’ He tossed it to Hanno, earning a scowl from Hippocrates.

‘I was going to keep that.’

‘It’s not yours to keep, brother,’ said Epicydes.

‘My thanks, General,’ said Hanno, clenching the ring in his fist, and hiding his growing dislike of Hippocrates. ‘How can I be of service?’

Epicydes regarded Hippocrates. ‘What think you, brother? Shall we give him the command of a unit of infantry?’

‘I suppose,’ replied Hippocrates with poor grace. ‘But what damn difference one officer is going to make, I don’t know.’ He got up and walked to stand over the prisoner who was lying on the floor. ‘What have you to say?’

The only answer he got was a whimper.

‘Ignore him,’ said Epicydes to Hanno, meaning Hippocrates. ‘You can take charge of some of our less experienced foot soldiers. They’ll benefit from the training you can provide. If you could help other officers to do the same, I’d be grateful. When the siege begins, I’ll give you a section of wall to defend.’

‘It would be an honour, General.’ Hanno warmed towards Epicydes, who was courteous at least. He was unsure what useful intelligence would come his way when fulfilling that role, but there was little he could say.

‘Your role will come into its own when the promised forces from Carthage arrive. We’ll need an officer who speaks both Greek and Carthaginian, won’t we, brother?’

That’s more promising, thought Hanno.

‘Yes, yes,’ answered Hippocrates, sounding uninterested. He kicked the prisoner. ‘If you won’t give me any information, you’re no damn use to me.’ He glanced at the soldiers who were guarding the captives. ‘Throw him over the edge.’

Epicydes made a vaguely apologetic gesture to Hanno as the sobbing man was hauled by his arms to the battlements and without hesitation, flung to his death. A despairing cry carried to the garden for perhaps two heartbeats after he disappeared, before abruptly stopping.

Gods, what a way to die, thought Hanno. Keeping his expression neutral, he asked, ‘What had he done?’

‘Ha! Not told me what I wanted to hear, that’s what,’ replied Hippocrates, looking irritated.

‘He was a suspected traitor,’ said Epicydes. ‘So is his companion.’

‘Suspected?’ The question had left Hanno’s lips before he could stop it.

‘Correct.’ Epicydes’ voice had lost its friendly edge. Meanwhile, Hippocrates had ordered the second prisoner taken to the spot where his comrade had gone over, and was making all kinds of threats.

‘The other one will be more likely to talk now, I’d wager.’ Hanno laughed, as if he’d enjoy watching.

‘No doubt,’ said Epicydes, his good humour returning. ‘Hippocrates can be very persuasive.’ A moment later, the screams began, proving his point, but Epicydes made no acknowledgement of them. ‘Kleitos will find you rooms, weapons and equipment. We will meet again soon.’

Hanno knew when he had been dismissed. ‘Thank you, General. And my new unit?’

‘I’ll send a messenger with the details.’

Hanno bowed and muttered more platitudes. As he walked away with Kleitos, he couldn’t help but glance at Hippocrates. He wished he hadn’t. The prisoner had just had his ear sliced off. Hippocrates examined it for a moment before tossing that over the edge and remarking that if the man didn’t want to follow it, he’d better start talking.

Hannibal had been right, Hanno decided. Hippocrates was dangerous. For all of his friendliness, so too was Epicydes. He had been sent to live in a nest of vipers.

Chapter VI

BY THE TIME
that their vessel had been at sea for a day, Aurelia was beginning to wonder if her decision to travel to Rhegium had been a wise one. Her restricted existence as a wife and mother had long irritated her, but it was easy to rail against such things from the safety of Rome. Now she was at the mercy of the elements, which were controlled by the gods, a set of beings with whom she had a troubled relationship. Since Cannae, she had been careful not to voice such feelings, yet she worried that the deities could discern her mistrust. She had made plentiful offerings before their departure, partly penitence for her behaviour, partly to ask that her husband might live – indeed, might recover from his injuries – and lastly, that they had a trouble-free voyage.

Neptune and the wind gods appeared not to have heard her requests. Within an hour of leaving Ostia, the bright, sunny weather had vanished; squalls and rain showers had battered the open-decked merchantman until well into the afternoon. The boat’s constant rocking motion had made Aurelia feel sick, but poor Publius had been worst affected, vomiting until nothing came up but bile. Tempsanus was little better, while Agesandros seemed completely unaffected. If anything, his mood lightened with each mile that they travelled south.

Things improved as the sun fell in the sky. The choppy winds died down, and a breeze from the north settled in at their backs, pushing them towards their destination. They made a good distance before the captain, a balding man with a little paunch, chose an anchorage for the night. Aurelia’s misgivings vanished on the second day, as they all but flew south on a gentle sea, under a blue sky. A school of dolphins rode in the ship’s bow wave for a time, delighting everyone, and veritable proof of Neptune’s favour.

At dawn on the third day, the captain announced that if the wind held and they saw no hostile vessels, sunset would see the end of their journey. Mention of ‘hostile’ forces set Aurelia’s nerves jangling, but hours passed without sight of anything other than an occasional fishing boat. Eventually, the lookout called that Sicily was in sight. They’d be docking at Rhegium within two hours, Tempsanus said with a smile. Aurelia’s mood lifted briefly, but her mind turned to Lucius, and fresh worry racked her. Was he even still alive? She prayed that he had not been claimed by Hades, that he would pull through. Such dark thoughts were averted by Publius, who escaped Elira’s grasp and scampered to her side. It was a welcome relief, and Aurelia began a game of Hide and Seek, using the mast to conceal herself from a delighted Publius.

‘Sail!’

Engrossed in the game, Aurelia didn’t pay much attention to the lookout’s call.

‘Where?’ asked the captain.

‘To the south, sir. It’s in the straits.’

‘Is it on its own?’

‘Seems to be, sir.’

‘What type of vessel is it – can you see?’ demanded the captain.

His tone caught Aurelia’s attention. She looked up the mast to where the lookout clung like a monkey, his hands gripping the wood and feet braced against a band of encircling rope.

‘I can’t see, sir. It’s too low down on the horizon.’

‘Neptune’s hairy arse crack,’ said the captain under his breath.

Pushing a laughing Publius towards Elira, Aurelia went to the captain’s side. ‘You’re worried,’ she said as Tempsanus joined them. Agesandros had somehow managed to put himself within earshot too.

‘There’s no point lying. I am.’ The captain made a sign against evil. ‘Marcellus’ ships dominate these waters, so more than likely it’s one of ours. But there’s no guarantee. The Syracusans send out vessels from time to time. It could even be a gugga trireme, blown north. The point is, we won’t know until we’ve got a lot closer, perhaps even entered the straits. If it does turn out to be unfriendly at that point, we’ll be so near that it might be able to run us down.’

‘What should we do?’ asked Tempsanus, his normal jovial expression absent.

‘Go a little closer, perhaps. See if the sail gives us an idea of its identity. Or we could just turn about, and row north. If it doesn’t follow us, so much the better. We can anchor off one of the Lipari Islands overnight and set sail before it gets light. We’d be in Rhegium in no time.’ The captain’s tone left no doubt that the latter option would be his choice, but he was not the master. Tempsanus was, because he’d chartered the vessel. Aurelia’s pulse beat a little faster as she glanced at her husband’s partner. She wanted to reach their destination as fast as possible, but not at any cost.

‘Avoiding trouble seems the best option,’ said Tempsanus, casting a look at Aurelia. ‘One more day won’t matter.’

Aurelia smiled in acceptance. I’ll be with you soon, husband, she thought. Hold on.

The captain was noticeably relieved by Tempsanus’ words. He cupped a hand to his mouth. ‘Reef the sails, and look lively about it!’

A dozen of the crew scrambled to the lines, but they had barely touched them when the lookout shouted ‘Sail!’ for the second time.

‘Where?’ yelled the captain.

‘Behind us, sir. It’s come out of nowhere. Must have been in the lee of one of the islands.’

All eyes turned to the ship’s stern. Perhaps a mile to their rear, a square sail, larger than theirs, could be seen plain as day. The captain cursed, and Aurelia felt a little sick. She didn’t need to be told that the newcomer had the wind behind him. If it was using its oars as well, they’d be overtaken before long.

‘Leave those lines be!’ roared the captain. He glanced at Tempsanus. ‘That one’s not friendly, sir, not the way he appeared. I don’t want to hang around to check, which leaves us no choice.’

‘To run south, and pray that the ship there is not an enemy?’ said Tempsanus.

‘If that’s all right with you, sir.’

‘Do as you see fit. A thousand extra drachms for you if we make Rhegium tonight.’

The captain’s teeth flashed. ‘I’ll do my best, sir.’ He stalked down the catwalk, ordering the fifty crewmen to their benches and for the oars to be run out. ‘I want us at top speed,’ Aurelia heard him tell the second-in-command. ‘Our best chance of outrunning them is now. You know what the wind’s like when we enter the strait—’

‘Unreliable as a Phoenician moneylender in a bad mood, sir.’

‘If it’s blowing to the south, we’ll be laughing. But if it’s the other way around?’ The captain grimaced.

Aurelia’s fear grew a fraction more. Prayer was her only resource. She tried not to feel hopeless about that.

Before long, their fortunes had taken a further turn for the worse. The ship behind them had caught up sufficiently to block their route north, and the sail that they’d seen to the south turned out to belong to a trireme. Bigger, faster, with more than three times the number of oarsmen, it scythed through the waves towards them. The painted eyes above its ram were hideous, and its decks bristled with soldiers and archers. A standard near the prow revealed it to be Syracusan.

Fear blossomed on Aurelia’s ship. The oarsmen slowed their stroke, yet no one said a thing. ‘They must row!’ said Tempsanus, a sheen of sweat decorating his brow.

‘What’s the point?’ retorted the captain. ‘We’re done.’

Tempsanus seemed about to protest when a voice speaking bad Latin carried across the water: ‘Heave to, or we’ll ram you!’

Throwing an I-told-you-so expression at Tempsanus, the captain ordered the oars shipped.

‘Can we not fight?’ demanded Tempsanus.

‘That lot? We’re sailors, sir, not soldiers.’

The trireme closed to within a long bowshot. It was aiming to come in beside their vessel. Men were clustered at the side rails, ready to board the instant that the two craft closed with each other.

‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

‘We’d be massacred, sir. Sorry to say, but your drachms are no longer worth a thing.’

Aurelia fought to stay calm. For a change, she was grateful for Agesandros’ presence by her side. ‘What will happen?’ she asked the captain, pleased that her voice was steady.

‘With a little luck, lady, they’ll just seize the ship and force us to serve as its crew, with a captain and officers of their own.’ He hesitated before adding regretfully, ‘As for you passengers, well, I couldn’t say.’

Aurelia’s gaze moved to Tempsanus’ face, which was twisted with fear.

‘We’ll be enslaved,’ grated Agesandros. ‘Killed if we’re unlucky.’

Aurelia locked her knees to keep them from folding. I’ve been so stupid, she thought. I should have taken Tempsanus’ advice, and stayed in Rome.

‘I can kill you now,’ muttered Agesandros. ‘And your son. It would save you both a lot of suffering.’

Horrified, Aurelia checked his face. The offer was genuine, she saw. So too was the concern in his eyes.

‘Terrible things could happen to you. You have no idea—’

‘No.’

‘What if Publius is sold to someone else? Have you thought about that?’

‘That will not happen! I will appeal to the captain. He’ll recognise that I’m a noblewoman.’

‘That will make little difference,’ said Agesandros.

‘You’re not killing us,’ she hissed. ‘What will you do?’

‘Let myself be taken. Slavery’s nothing new to me. I’ll escape when my chance comes. If I can help you then, I will.’

Aurelia swallowed, and prayed harder than she had at any time since before Cannae.
Spare me and my child. Spare us all.