His relationship with his eldest brother had always been prickly, but during the period of his enslavement, he had largely forgotten the details. When he had been reunited with him, Hanno had fancied things had changed between him and Sapho. They had got on famously for a short while, but then the pair had fallen into their old pattern of clashing regularly.
Most recently, there had been the look on Sapho’s face when he had nearly drowned. As he had before, Hanno had convinced himself that that had been his imagination running riot. Had Sapho not revealed Hannibal’s plan to him before the battle at Lake Trasimene? They had also spent many subsequent nights drinking wine together. Which was why his brother’s reaction when Hanno had returned from patrol with Mutt and his men the previous year had not been what he expected. Sapho had looked smug, to say the least. Knowing, as well. That hadn’t surprised Hanno overmuch. What had was the edge to Sapho’s voice. ‘Emptied your balls, have you?’ his brother had repeatedly asked. Startled and angered, Hanno had denied everything, but Sapho had persisted until he’d demanded to know who in his phalanx had been telling tales. Sapho had winked and said he had his source, who’d told him that their commander had vanished in the direction of Capua. ‘Gone for three days, I hear. It must have been a good whorehouse to risk your skin like that!’
Despite the double edge to this comment — Sapho could have meant the threat of either the Romans capturing him or Hannibal finding out what he had done — Hanno had breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t thought it was Mutt who had informed on him, but this was proof. Sapho didn’t know why he’d left his soldiers; he had been making a shrewd guess as to the reason. Yet Hanno had felt most uneasy that someone had spoken out of turn. If Sapho knew, others might also find out. Hanno had no doubt, either, that his brother had been showing his power over him: if he said a word to any of the senior officers, Hanno’s life was over. When he’d challenged Sapho about it, his brother had laughed it off, saying he’d never do anything of the kind.
Why does he always have to make such jokes? thought Hanno angrily. Bostar doesn’t. For all of his veiled threats and sarcasm, however, that time Sapho had been right. It had been rash to leave his command and seek out Aurelia. Naturally, Hanno wouldn’t ever admit that to Sapho. A quick grin sloped across his face. He didn’t want to end his life nailed to a cross, that was for sure, but part of him was still glad about what he’d done. If only he had managed to see Aurelia in Capua! Stop it, he told himself. Months have passed. She’s married now, and you’ll never see her again. Best to forget her. Doing that, though, was easier said than done. He had tried to do so before and failed.
‘Ho! Hanno, where are you?’
‘I’m in here.’ He lifted the tent flap and grimaced. ‘What is it?’
‘That’s a strange welcome for a man’s brother,’ said Sapho, scowling. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘Of course,’ replied Hanno. Now he felt bad. He stood aside so that his brother could enter. ‘Take a seat.’
Sapho sat on one of the two stools and extended his feet towards the glowing brazier with a happy sigh. Spring had arrived, but the temperatures still dropped considerably at night. ‘Got any wine?’
‘A little.’ Taking a pair of plain clay beakers from the bronze tray that sat on his clothes chest, Hanno gave them a quick wipe with a rag. He filled them both from the jug that sat alongside. ‘Here.’
Sapho saluted him with his cup. ‘To our general Hannibal, and victory over the Romans!’
Hanno echoed the words, and they both drank. He wanted to ask what brought Sapho to his tent, but that would be too direct. It wasn’t easy to think of something else to say. For all that Hanno was his own man, Sapho still had a way of making him feel like his little brother. Relax, he thought. Enjoy his company. He’s merely come for a friendly chat. ‘How are your men finding the new formations?’ he asked. His had done little but complain since the order had come down that they were to arm themselves with Roman weapons and learn to fight like legionaries.
‘It took a while, a few lashes of the whip, but they’re proficient now,’ growled Sapho. ‘And yours?’
‘Getting them to react as one when I shout an order has taken a bloody age,’ admitted Hanno. ‘They’re getting there, I suppose.’
‘If you need any help or advice-’ Sapho began, but Hanno interrupted.
‘I’ll manage, thanks.’
‘I know you will,’ said Sapho with a warm smile.
Again Hanno felt bad for being so prickly. He trusts me. He knows I’m a man now.
‘You say that there’s no prospect of a battle, yet that doesn’t mean we can’t bloody some Romans’ noses from time to time.’
Hanno’s ears pricked. ‘On patrol, you mean?’ Hannibal’s army went through a vast amount of food every day, and through the winter it had become harder and harder to find supplies. The soldiers who were sent out on these missions often had to range quite far afield and were therefore the most likely to see combat.
‘Yes. Hannibal has ordered me to accompany a foraging party tomorrow. He’s had reports of a large estate, as yet unplundered, and with a large amount of grain. It’s about fifteen miles to the northwest of here, on the other side of the river. A lot of men and mules will be needed to carry the wheat, so a strong force is required. I’m to ask another phalanx commander to come along. I thought of you. But if your men aren’t ready-’
Fiercely eager, Hanno cut him off. This was another chance to fight the enemy, to win Hannibal’s favour. ‘They would jump at the chance of getting out of camp! So would I. If we happen to clash with a few Romans, we’ll teach them a damn good lesson.’
‘You’re sure? If something happens, I don’t want to see your men taking to their heels and leaving us in the shit.’
‘I give you my word,’ swore Hanno. ‘My phalanx is made up of veterans, remember? They crossed the Alps with you and the rest. Learning how to fight with new weapons is just a reason to grumble. You know what soldiers are like. When it comes to a fight, they’ll stand as firm as any man in the army, I guarantee it.’
‘Fair enough.’ Sapho raised his cup once more. ‘We shall march out together, and return with sufficient grain to feed the entire army for weeks. And may the gods have pity on any Romans who are foolish enough to cross swords with us!’
Hanno laughed with anticipation. ‘Hannibal will be pleased.’
‘He’ll also see what a fine soldier you are,’ added Sapho.
Hanno beamed at this rare compliment. The wine tasted even better as it ran down his gullet. He poured refills for them both.
‘I’d like nothing more than to get hammered,’ said Sapho as they drank another toast, ‘but we’ll need clear heads tomorrow.’
‘Just what I was going to say,’ replied Hanno, although he’d been fully prepared to keep drinking. He was grateful that Sapho, who must have seen that in his face, made no comment. A warm feeling towards his eldest brother flowed through him. Hanno was sure now that he’d been wrong about Sapho. ‘We can get pissed when we get back.’
‘I’ll see if I can persuade Hannibal to come as well.’
‘He wouldn’t bother with the likes of us, surely?’ asked Hanno in surprise.
‘I don’t know. I’ve had the honour of sharing wine with him a few times; if he decides to put his cares aside, he’s quite a sociable type. Leave it with me,’ said Sapho with a wink.
Impressed and pleased, Hanno beamed at his brother. He was ever more determined to prove himself on the patrol.
Indicating to Mutt that his men should keep marching, Hanno stepped out of line. As ever, his purpose was to scan the horizon behind them. To his relief, he saw nothing. It was almost too good to be true. Thus far, the raid had gone without any major hitches. They had left the army’s main camp well before dawn. The Numidian cavalry sent to escort them had set out at the same time, reporting back regularly that they had found no signs of enemy troops in the surrounding area. They had reached their objective by mid-morning and met almost no resistance; as soon as the elderly owner realised how large was the force sent against him, he had surrendered. Hanno had been impressed by Sapho’s restraint towards the man, who had been executed without torture after he’d revealed the contents of his farm buildings. The slaves had not been harmed.