Hannibal: Clouds of War (15 page)

Another order came over, in the same poor Latin. ‘Lay your oars in!’

The captain hastily repeated the command, and the crew heaved in their sweeps, the port-side ones completing the task just as the trireme came gliding in alongside. Its oars had already been neatly shipped.
Thunk, thunk, thunk.
Timber ground off timber as the two hulls met. The Syracusans didn’t wait for their ship to stop moving. Half a dozen, then a dozen soldiers leaped on to the merchantman’s deck, their weapons drawn. ‘Throw down your arms!’ yelled one in mangled Latin. He repeated the command in Greek.

The few crew on the deck fell to their knees, begging for mercy. The men at the oars didn’t even lift their eyes. The captain raised his hands in the air and said in passable Greek, ‘We’re unarmed. The ship is yours.’

Agesandros stepped in front of Aurelia, who had beckoned Elira and Publius to her side. To his credit, Tempsanus did the same. ‘Stay calm, my lady,’ he whispered. ‘I will defend you.’

‘No, Tempsanus,’ she protested, but he had stepped forward. ‘We are civilians,’ he began.

The lead soldier’s reply was instant, and brutal. He shoved his sword into Tempsanus’ belly, right up to the hilt. There was a terrible ‘
Ooooffff
’ of pain, which quickly became a scream. Using his shield, the soldier pushed Tempsanus off his blade, and down into the midst of the oarsmen. There he roared in agony. The soldier eyed Agesandros, who was next, with cold eyes.

Aurelia felt Agesandros tense. Despite their troubled history, there was no point in him throwing away his life like this. It would achieve nothing. ‘Stop,’ she whispered, before stepping around him. ‘I am a Roman noblewoman,’ she said loudly in Greek. ‘Harm me at your peril.’

‘I’ve never fucked a Roman matron. Didn’t think to find one on this tub either,’ declared the soldier with a chuckle. ‘My luck’s just changed, brothers!’

His comrades laughed, and Aurelia felt her bowels loosen. Agesandros stirred beside her, and this time, she didn’t have the resolve to stop him.

‘HOLD!’ shouted the same voice that had ordered them to heave to. ‘No one is to be killed, or fucked, until
I
have had a look at them.’

Frustrated, the soldier stayed put and Aurelia breathed again. Another pair of feet thumped on to the decking and, a moment later, she found herself face to face with a handsome Syracusan officer. He hadn’t even bothered to draw his sword. ‘You are?’ he asked in an arrogant drawl.

‘My name is Aurelia, wife of Lucius Vibius Melito,’ she said, as calmly as her thumping heart would allow. ‘I am of the equestrian class, and I demand to be treated as such.’

‘You’ll
demand
nothing.’ His tone’s silkiness made it even more threatening. ‘If I but give the word, my men here will do every kind of vile thing to you, and to your female slave. Your child – by your expression I can see that he’s yours – will see every bit of it. I suggest that you shut your mouth, and give us no trouble.’

Aurelia could not remember ever being so scared, but was damned if she’d let him see it. She nodded.

The officer pushed past, pausing to look at Publius and Elira. ‘Bind them all, except the child,’ he ordered. ‘Transfer them to our ship.’

Aurelia found her voice again as the soldiers swarmed in. ‘Where are you taking us?’

‘Syracuse, of course.’

Aurelia shivered. She had been such a fool. She’d be lucky to escape this unharmed, and with Publius by her side. Who knew what would happen to any of them?

‘Mama?’ Publius’ reedy voice echoed through the dungeon. ‘Mama?’

‘I’m here, love.’ By now Aurelia’s eyes were so used to the gloom that she had no trouble walking to the moth-eaten blanket that served as their bedding. Elira was also there, asleep. ‘It’s all right, I’m here,’ Aurelia whispered.

She stooped to pick him up, savouring his small-child smell, his warmth. They reminded her of normality in this hellhole. Six other women shared the tiny space they had been thrown into after their arrival in Syracuse: skinny wretches in ragged clothing. Despite Aurelia’s attempts, none had spoken other than to say they’d been seized on a ship the previous week, and that they got fed once a day. Aurelia had no idea where Agesandros, the captain and the crew were. Poor Tempsanus was lying on the seabed, food for the fishes. And Lucius? Only the gods knew if he was still alive. Let Hanno find me, somehow, she prayed. The notion was crazy, but it was all Aurelia had.

‘I’m hung-y, Mama. I’m hung-y.’

‘I know, love, I know.’ Aurelia’s own stomach was rumbling. The blackness made it impossible to judge the time, but it had to be meal-time soon. ‘They’ll bring us something any moment, you’ll see.’

‘I want sau-sages.’

‘Maybe they’ll bring sausages. I don’t know, love. It might just be some bread, but that would be nice, wouldn’t it?’

‘Bread! Bread! I want bread.’

‘Soon, my love, soon.’ Stroking his hair, Aurelia walked the eight steps to the cell’s back wall, turned and returned to the tiny grille that opened on to the corridor. No one was there. It had been the same since their arrival. Moans and cries from other cells haunted Aurelia as she paced to and fro. At last Publius fell asleep. Worried that his hunger would wake him, she didn’t stop until the muscles in her arms were screaming for a rest. Thankfully, he didn’t stir as she laid him on the blanket and covered him up. She stared down at him, almost able to hear her mother’s voice, reprimanding her. ‘Impetuous behaviour will get you nowhere, child.’ Aurelia rallied what was left of her courage. It was done now. She had decided to travel by sea to Rhegium, and all of them would have to live with the consequences. Remembering the misery of the slave market in Capua, which she had seen as a child, Aurelia prayed: At the very least, let me stay with Publius. Being separated would be worse than anything, even death.

Death. Is that what it would come to? she wondered numbly.

All the mental preparations in the world could not have equipped Aurelia for the following morning. Along with the cell’s other occupants, they had been escorted by soldiers to a courtyard. Perhaps a dozen more women arrived soon after. The entire group was ordered to strip naked by the same officer who had taken their ship. Quiet sobbing filled the air as the reason behind this sank in – they were being readied for sale – but the women had little choice.

Trying to reduce Publius’ distress, Aurelia pretended that it was nothing but a game. In reality, of course, it was unbelievably degrading. She had not been without clothes in public since she was a small child, and the soldiers’ comments and groping hands only added to her distress. Buckets of water were hauled up from the well, and they were ordered to wash themselves. Worse was to follow. Their feet were dusted with white chalk, to signify their status, and they were bound with rope at the wrists and neck. Gods, give me strength, thought Aurelia, avoiding all eye contact. This is inhuman. It was what Elira, and Hanno, had both gone through, and Agesandros. So too had the slaves that her family and Lucius owned. Her previous attempts to empathise with slaves had been utterly romanticised. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

‘Why Mama tied up?’ asked Publius, his bottom lip jutting.

Aurelia was glad that the guards didn’t speak Latin. ‘It’s part of the game, my love,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘We have to go to a special place now, and find our clothes.’

‘Where?’ demanded Publius.

‘I don’t know, love. Follow me.’
Let it not be far, please.

To her relief, she heard one of the others say that the slave market was only a quarter of a mile away. The officer and several of his soldiers led off, carving a path through the busy streets, and the rest took up the rear. Bizarrely, the experience wasn’t as horrific as Aurelia had expected, because few people even noticed their passage. It was yet more bitter medicine to swallow: slaves weren’t worth looking at. They were the lowest of the low.

Publius was happy to trot alongside at first, but as the crowd grew denser, it became difficult for him to match the adults’ pace. At one stage, Aurelia had to stop to allow him to catch up. The rope that connected her to the next woman went taut, unbalancing her. Aurelia’s tearful apology to the soldiers and a promise not to do it again were enough – just. All she got was a heavy cuff around the ear. From then on, she made Publius walk in front of her, which forced him, complaining, to maintain their speed.

Before long, they arrived at the marketplace. Aurelia was grateful for this tiny reprieve. Publius’ limits wouldn’t be tested further, in this at least. A gate in the outer wall, and the strong smell of the sea, revealed the site to be adjacent to one of the city’s harbours. Seagulls screeched and cried overhead, concentrating on the food stalls that lined one side of the roughly rectangular space. Lines of slaves filled the central area, separated according to sex, age and also by owners. They were all the colours and races under the sun: fair-complexioned Romans, Gauls and Germans, brown-skinned Greeks and Egyptians. There were Nubians, black as pitch, and even a pair of yellow men with black hair and slanted eyes – Seres, Aurelia thought they were called. The slaves were old, middle-aged, in the prime of life, stripling youths, children, and babes that were still at the breast. Every single one was naked; most bore the same numbed, blank expressions. Some of the women and children were crying, but their vendors were quick to silence them with threats or blows, or both.

‘Is this where we get our clothes back, Mama?’

‘No, my darling. First, we have to go with someone to find them.’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

Publius’ attention had already moved on. Seeing a heavily built man chewing on a piece of grilled fish, he announced, ‘I’m hung-y! I want fish.’

‘Shhhh, my love,’ Aurelia urged, but fortunately none of the soldiers heard. After a little negotiation, the women were made to stand in a line close to a podium that stood in the very centre of the market. She managed to distract Publius by getting him to draw in the dust at their feet.

Time passed in a haze of fractured images. The purchase by an officer, for a few coins each, of a handful of old, sick-looking men. Every soldier in the garrison was needed for the city’s defence, the officer told the slaver. The wretches were to be set cleaning out a section of the sewers that had blocked. If they died on the job, it wouldn’t matter. A mother and her small son being sold separately; the screams of distress from both as their buyers forced them off in different directions. A raddled-looking man, perhaps a brothel-owner, mauling every young woman he could find, including Aurelia and Elira. She breathed again when his attention settled on a blonde Goth and her companion, an auburn-haired, full-breasted woman. He bought both, along with one of the youngest girls in Aurelia’s group.

The one constant, and oddly what kept Aurelia sane, was Publius’ whingeing. He was hungry, he wanted to go home, he wanted to cuddle with Aurelia, then Elira. Where was his daddy? Aurelia managed to keep him from wailing or crying, and Elira, who was beside them, played her part too. Yet desperation began to steal over Aurelia as tell-tale red marks appeared on Publius’ cheeks, and his voice grew a little shrill. He was tiring. Their ploys would not work for much longer. The guards were beginning to look irritated. She had seen at least one crying child ripped from its mother and sold to the first bidder, just to get rid of it.

‘Agathocles! It’s good to see you.’

Aurelia’s head turned. The officer who’d captured them was talking to a thin, well-dressed man with neat black hair. From the smiles and easy conversation, the two knew each other. A pair of soldiers, Agathocles’ bodyguards, stood nearby.

‘What are you looking for this morning? More women?’

‘Aye. Hippocrates has grown jaded with the last crop.’ Agathocles gave an expressive shrug. ‘You know what he’s like. Never happy.’

‘What have you become, brother?’ The officer lowered his voice. ‘Procuring fresh meat for Hippocrates? You should have joined the army, like me.’

‘Don’t start! You’re here, selling slaves on the generals’ behalf, aren’t you? There’s nothing to choose between us.’ Agathocles clapped the officer on the shoulder. ‘Let’s see if you have anything worth taking to Hippocrates this morning.’

‘There’s a Roman matron down the line. She’s reasonably attractive,’ said the officer, and Aurelia’s blood ran cold. ‘So is the Illyrian who was her female slave.’

Aurelia’s spirits lifted a fraction. She glanced at Elira, saw the same hope flare in her eyes. Fortuna, watch over us in this moment, Aurelia prayed. If we’re together, it won’t be as bad.

Agathocles selected one of the first women in the line, but he passed on the rest without a second look. ‘You haven’t many beauties here today, my friend.’ He came to a halt before Aurelia and looked back at the officer. ‘Perhaps I was being a little hasty.’

‘I told you. Hippocrates will like that one. She’s haughty.’

Agathocles caught Aurelia’s chin with one hand and turned her head from side to side. She tried not to show her outrage, but he noted the tension in her neck. ‘You don’t like that, eh?’ he said in Latin.

Aurelia didn’t reply.

He let her go and in the same instant, backhanded her across the face. ‘I asked you a question, you Roman bitch!’

Publius began to cry, and Elira tried to comfort him. ‘I don’t mind you touching me, no,’ Aurelia whispered.

‘Liar.’ His smile was all teeth. ‘My friend has the right of it. Hippocrates will enjoy breaking you, more especially because you’re Roman.’

‘She’s a noblewoman,’ called the officer.

‘Even better. I’ll take her.’ One of his hands lingered on her breasts.

‘And my child,’ said Aurelia at once.

Agathocles laughed. ‘Hippocrates is many things, but he’s no pederast!’

Aurelia sensed that in this place of desolation and broken hearts, pleading would make no difference.
I cannot lose Publius!
She pitched her voice so that Publius couldn’t hear. ‘If you take my son as well, I will pleasure Hippocrates as he has never been before.’ She prayed that the techniques taught to her by Elira when she’d first got married, and used successfully on Lucius, still worked.