Both men looked around, surprised and embarrassed. Calatinus jumped up and saluted, while Quintus glowered.
‘I don’t think that’s what Quintus meant, sir,’ protested Calatinus.
Fabricius’ gimlet stare turned. ‘Well?’
‘I wasn’t saying that Servilius is a coward,’ muttered Quintus.
‘I’m glad to hear it!’ Fabricius’ tone was sarcastic. ‘It’s not down to you, a stripling cavalryman, to stand in judgement on a consul. Servilius is doing what he was ordered to by the Senate, and that is to guard the east coast in case Hannibal should march that way. Just as Flaminius has been chosen to protect the west coast in the event that the gugga does the opposite.’
‘It feels wrong just to let Hannibal and his army ravage the countryside. I’m sick of seeing farms that have been burned to the ground and had all of their inhabitants butchered,’ said Quintus, letting his anger against his father flare alongside his outrage at what the Carthaginians were doing.
‘So am I.’ Calatinus’ tone was heartfelt.
‘Oh, for the eagerness of youth! Fear not,’ said Fabricius with a wink, ‘for Flaminius hopes to catch Hannibal between his army and that of Servilius. If he succeeds with that, we shall carve up the guggas like the Gauls at Telamon.’
Quintus’ spirits rose at that idea, but his father’s next words struck him like a punch in the solar plexus.
‘If it works, Calatinus, you should see action as well.’
Quintus gaped at Fabricius. No, not now, he thought. Please! Beside him, Calatinus’ surprise was also palpable. ‘I don’t understand. My arm is better. I’m ready to fight.’
‘It’s nothing to do with your wound. You’re to return home at once. Calatinus and seven others are to be posted back to serve with Servilius’ horsemen.’
Quintus was stunned into silence.
‘In Ariminum? Why, sir?’ asked Calatinus, looking confused.
‘Flaminius has had word from Servilius. He wants men who have fought Hannibal’s cavalry before. Too many of us were assigned to Flaminius’ units. Servilius has been left short, and he needs riders who can instruct his men in Carthaginian tactics. We agreed on a figure of eight men. I suggested the candidates.’
‘Why can I not go as well?’ demanded Quintus hotly. ‘I am old enough now! Besides, I have taken the oath.’
‘Hades, will you never learn to curb your tongue? I see your mother in you more and more,’ snapped Fabricius. ‘I’ve spoken to Flaminius. You’re going home, and that’s an end to it.’ He saw something in Quintus’ eyes and pointed a stern finger. ‘Technically, you will still be in the cavalry. You could be called up again — but only if you have demonstrably matured. If I hear otherwise, I’ll be sure to have your military oath annulled.’
In that moment, Quintus absolutely hated his father.
Fabricius rounded on Calatinus. ‘Are you going to protest too?’
‘No, sir. I’d rather not leave, but if those are your orders, then I shall follow them.’
‘Fine. As you were.’ Fabricius ducked out of the tent without another word.
Furious, Quintus watched him go. Curse him to Hades!
‘By all the gods, that was unexpected,’ muttered Calatinus.
‘For you maybe, but not for me,’ said Quintus bitterly. ‘At least you have a chance of getting to close with Hannibal. I’ll be stuck at home, with the women.’
‘Being around your father isn’t good for you. All you do is clash off one another. Maybe a period away from him will do you some good. Who’s to say that the war will end soon anyway? Hannibal seems to be a shrewd leader. I’d wager that we’ll still be fighting him in twelve months. Your father won’t be able to deny you a place in the cavalry forever. Just keep your nose clean at home. Make sure your mother is happy.’
Quintus didn’t bother arguing. In his mind, his father would prevent him from ever serving again. That had made up his mind for once and for all. If ever there had been a perfect opportunity to approach Corax about joining the velites, it was now. That way, he could stay in Flaminius’ army, close to Hannibal. His father would never know. He won’t send me home, Quintus thought furiously. I’ll be my own master. Learn to fight as an infantryman.
It was a good feeling.
Capua
Aurelia’s spirits lifted as they left the temple of Mars. She hadn’t begrudged visiting to pray for Flaccus’ soul the first time, but it seemed a bit much to have to do it again and again. Her mother said that it was important, however, and Aurelia was playing it safe by not arguing. To be fair, she was sorry he was dead. The one and only time that she had met Flaccus, he had seemed personable. She had even fallen a little for his looks, and his air of confidence and power. But then he had gone to Rome, taking her father, and she had not seen him again. There had been one letter, and then nothing. Aurelia felt a twinge of remorse. There would have been more communications, but the war had been more important than writing to her, a mere child. Soon after, Flaccus had been killed. It was sad, but she wasn’t going to spend her life grieving over a man she had not known at all.
Their duties done, they could soon visit Gaius and Martialis, his father. Her heart leaped. Gaius had been away, training with his unit, on the previous occasion they had been to Capua. Aurelia loved Martialis, but seeing him instead of his son was not the same. How she hoped he would see past her status as Quintus’ sister today. She was wearing her best dress, all of her jewellery, and even a hint of perfume filched from a vial belonging to her mother. With a little luck, it would go unnoticed, but Aurelia was careful not to go too near Atia, whose sense of smell was impressive. So too was her ability to see through Aurelia’s actions.
‘That went well, I thought,’ said Atia.
‘Yes,’ mumbled Aurelia. How could one judge? she wondered. It wasn’t as if the statue of Mars responded in any way, to anyone. It just stood there, imperious and regal, glaring down at the long, narrow room that formed the centrepiece of the temple.
Atia turned with a frown. ‘I hope that your prayers for Flaccus were sincere?’
Aurelia caught the first warning sign fast. Best not to start an argument before they had even seen Gaius. ‘They were heartfelt, Mother,’ she lied, using her most sincere voice.
Atia’s face relaxed. ‘His soul will rest easier knowing that he is still remembered. You remembered to ask the gods to watch over Father and Quintus?’
‘Of course!’ This time, Aurelia’s reaction was entirely unfeigned.
‘Good. To the market, then. There are things I forgot to tell Agesandros to get.’
Aurelia’s eyes darted towards the crowd at the mention of the overseer, but, to her relief, there was no sign of him. With luck, they wouldn’t see Agesandros until later, at Martialis’ house. Buying everything on Atia’s list would take time. Not as long as it normally would, however. She had noticed on their last visit that her mother had not ordered as much food as usual; today it had been the same. Aurelia didn’t ponder the thought for long; already her head was full of images of Gaius. Smiling as he saw her. Resplendent in his uniform. Offering her his arm so that they might go for a walk. Complimenting her on her appearance. Stooping to brush his lips against hers. .
‘Spare a coin, young lady!’
Aurelia blinked, and flinched in horror. A beggar clad in rags stood before her. His leathery palm and the shiny nubs where his fingers should have been waggled under her nose. The disfigurement didn’t end there. The man had almost no nose, just two gaping holes under his inflamed, weeping eyes. His skin was scaly like that of a snake and lay in odd, disturbing angles. Round swellings peppered his face, small things no bigger than a fingernail to lumps the size of a peach stone. Aurelia had seen lepers on countless occasions, but at a distance. They were normally kept outside Capua by the guards at the gate. She had never been this close to one. She recoiled, fear twisting her guts that the disease might transfer to her. ‘I have no money.’