‘Need I spell it out? An estate ten miles south of here was pillaged and burned a week ago. Only the arrival of a strong Roman patrol stopped the guggas from raiding more properties in the area. The patrol has moved on since, which means the threat of attack is as severe as it ever was. If you were to be found alone in the woods, the gods only know what kind of fate you would have.’
‘Who are you to tell me what to do? I shall do what I please!’
To her surprise, he did not get angry. ‘You know my family’s story,’ he said, his dark eyes full of pain. ‘I will not have the same happen to you. Aside from what your parents would do to me, I could not bear it myself.’
Aurelia found herself feeling a little sorry for Agesandros. During the previous war against Carthage, his wife had been raped and then murdered, together with his young children, by Carthaginian soldiers. That was still no reason to kill Suni in cold blood! she thought angrily. Yet the stiff cut of his chin told her that he was capable of holding her in the house against her will. A tickle of fear licked the base of her spine. Perhaps he was right to be so cautious. ‘Very well. I will stay close to the house.’
He gave her a penetrating look; then he nodded in satisfaction.
To Hanno’s right, the Apennines ran from north to south in an unbroken line. In the bright sunshine, their slopes were a mottled mixture of brown, green and grey. He had grown to love their look, despite the fact that it wasn’t Carthage, wasn’t home. The countryside here was a stark contrast to his homeland, which had few peaks. There were mountains far to the south and west of Carthage, but he had never set eyes on them. As far as he’d seen, it was impossible to stand anywhere in Italy and not see some. To his left, an occasional peak pushed up towards the sky. It had been the same since they’d come down from the Apennines. The largest he’d seen was Vesuvius, which had risen an impressive distance from the surrounding plain. The mountains here were smaller, and the terrain was mostly open farmland. It ran down towards the sea, a day’s ride to the west. He had never visited here in his life, but it felt familiar. For good reason. Fabricius’ farm lay no more than ten miles away. His life had turned full circle, Hanno reflected. The last time he’d been in the area, he had been a runaway, fleeing for his life. Now he was part of an invading army, with nearly two hundred spearmen under his command.
Part of Hanno burned to march to the farm: to see if Aurelia was there; to kill Agesandros; to show them all that he was no slave. But the rest of him was glad that Zamar, the Numidian cavalry officer with whom he was patrolling, had deemed it too risky. Zamar’s scouts had reported the presence of enemy forces to the north. The Romans had a new policy of shadowing their foraging parties and ambushing them, and Hanno didn’t want to suffer the grisly fate of a number of other patrols. Hannibal’s orders were that, if a situation appeared risky, discretion was the better part of valour. Hanno and the Numidian had conferred with Mutt earlier in the day, and accordingly taken the decision to turn back towards their army in the morning. There was every reason to do so. Their mission had been an unqualified success. All contact with Roman troops had been avoided; their mules were laden down with sacks of grain and amphorae of wine and oil; close to five hundred sheep and five score cattle were penned up in the temporary enclosures beside their camp. His men had slain plenty of Roman farmers, but not too many women and children; as far as he knew, there had been little rape. Achieving that had been no mean feat.
Hanno scowled. By rights, he should be a happy man. But he wasn’t. The sensible thing would be to leave this place and never look back. If I do that, he thought, I will never have the opportunity to see Aurelia again. To ask her about Suni. All day, that awareness had been rattling around in his head like a stone in a gourd. He took another look to the north. She might not even be there; the majority of the farms in the area had been abandoned. It didn’t matter, he decided. If he didn’t seize this chance, he would always regret it. If he borrowed a horse from Zamar, he could make good time. Thanks to the war, the roads around were empty of traffic. When it got dark, the night sky would still be bright enough to follow the road to Capua. The turn-off to Fabricius’ farm was easy to find; so too was the property itself. If things went well, he would be back before dawn. No one apart from the Numidian and Mutt would be any the wiser. A fierce grin split Hanno’s face at the thought. He hadn’t been this excited since. . since he couldn’t remember when.
The gods were smiling on Hanno that afternoon, and he made good time from his camp. The only travellers he encountered were a priest riding a mule, and his acolyte, who trudged along in the dust behind his master. Both stared suspiciously at Hanno, but after his hearty greeting, the priest let out a mumbled reply. Neither party stopped to talk. It was good that he’d donned some nondescript clothes and taken one of Zamar’s more scruffy mounts, Hanno decided. To the unsuspecting eye, he was no Carthaginian. True, he was abroad when few others were, but what would an enemy soldier be doing on his own?
There was yet light in the sky as he came up the road that led to Fabricius’ farm. The entrance lay about half a mile further on. It would have given Hanno considerable satisfaction to ride up the avenue to the house, but there was no point being foolish. If Agesandros was about, and he had no reason to think otherwise, his first greeting would be a hurled spear. Best to travel the last distance on foot. A patch of buckthorn and juniper that formed the junction between two properties was the perfect spot to secrete and hobble his horse. Then, hand on sword hilt, he crept through the fields towards the farm, joining the track that led to the villa halfway along its length.
The oddness of the situation sank in as Hanno saw buildings outlined at the end of the line of cypresses. His heart thumped in his chest with excitement, but he forced himself to walk at a snail’s pace. If the place hadn’t been abandoned, Agesandros might have set guards. Or dogs! Too late, Hanno thought of the huge hunting hounds that Fabricius used, great slavering things the size of a boar, with temperaments to match. They were usually let out at night. Sweat slicked down his back. Why hadn’t he thought of the damn dogs before? They’d tear him to pieces.
His head twisted to and fro, gauging the distance to the property’s boundary. It was a few hundred paces at most. There hadn’t been a sound from the villa. If he retraced his route, there was every chance that he’d get away. He turned, but made no more than a dozen steps before his feet dragged to a halt. What kind of coward are you? To get this close and not even try to see if Aurelia is there? Hanno swallowed down the bile that had risen to the back of his throat. The dogs tended to run in ones and twos. If they attacked, he would be able to kill one and then the other. With any luck. Slipping his blade from the scabbard, he began creeping towards the group of buildings once more.
He reached the last pair of cypresses without difficulty. Their branches moved in the light air, filling the air with a gentle creaking. A memory slowed him. The last time he’d stood here in darkness, it had been after Quintus had set him free. That debt had been repaid, he thought harshly. He’s an enemy now. Then why are you trying to see his sister? came the instant response. To that, Hanno had no answer. All he knew was that the compulsion burning him up was impossible to ignore.
A movement in the shadows between the farm buildings and the villa; the excited whining of dogs. The villa had not been abandoned, far from it. He shrank against the trunk of the nearest cypress.
‘Ho, Zeus! Ho, Mars! You’re eager to run tonight, aren’t you?’ A chuckle. ‘You two are always the same. Bear and Fang are always the ones to hang back a little. Still hoping for another scrap of food, aren’t you? Sorry to disappoint you, boys, but it’s the same routine as usual. No food for you until the morning. Hunger makes your noses keener, or I’m no judge.’