Fields of Blood

Chapter IX

Near Capua

As the walls of Capua receded into the distance, Aurelia wondered for the twentieth time if she was being wise. I’ll do what I want, she thought fiercely. My mother can go to Hades! One of Martialis’ two slaves threw her another questioning look, but her immediate scowl made his gaze drop. Her mixture of cajolery and threats had got the pair beyond the gate; she hoped that it would take them as far as the family farm. Aurelia wished again that Gaius were around; he would have accompanied her. No, it was better that he wasn’t here, she decided. She was to marry Lucius now. There was no point putting any more temptation in her way. Besides, Gaius was long gone, sent with his unit to bolster Fabius’ forces. Lucius might have come if she’d asked, but she didn’t want his company. He was part of the reason that she was going.

If only her mother hadn’t been so assiduous in winning over Lucius’ father, she thought. But Atia had been like a dog with a bone. She and Lucius were to wed within the next few months. Aurelia had grown somewhat resigned to that fact — her father had given his blessing to the union, so there wasn’t much she could do about it — but she was determined to savour her last months of relative freedom. As a married woman she would live at her husband’s command. This might be her last chance of visiting the place where she’d grown up, of being alone with her memories of Quintus and — if she admitted it — Hanno. She had been spurred into action by something she’d overheard literally the night before. Since her disastrous attempt to listen in on her mother and Phanes, Aurelia had become a master at eavesdropping. Atia and Martialis tended to talk in the evenings, after she was supposed to be in bed. The previous night, Aurelia had been shocked beyond belief by what she had heard. Martialis’ loan had only placated Phanes for two months, her mother had lamented. Martialis had expressed his horror and repeatedly apologised to Atia. The regret had been thick in his voice. ‘I don’t have any more money to lend you.’

Aurelia had bitten her lip at her mother’s next words. Unless Fabricius was able to help, which seemed unlikely given the fact that he was in the field, shadowing Hannibal’s army, the farm would either have to be sold or signed over to Phanes. Given the uncertainty gripping the area, the latter seemed more likely. Aurelia stuck out her jaw, trying hard not to cry at the memory. Because of her, Phanes would soon own her father’s farm. She’d had dark thoughts about having the moneylender killed, but didn’t know how to organise such a thing — even if she had the money to pay for it, which she didn’t. A gusty sigh escaped her. Her family would soon be beggared and there was nothing she could do about it.

‘Where are we going, mistress?’ asked the older of the two slaves, a stoop-shouldered man with foul breath. His companion, a swarthy Iberian with a moustache, also turned.

‘To my family’s farm,’ said Aurelia curtly. ‘It’s not far.’

‘And the master knows that we’re going there?’

‘Of course he does,’ Aurelia lied. ‘As if it mattered! He ordered you to accompany me everywhere for my safety, did he not?’

He looked unhappy. ‘That was within Capua, mistress.’

‘I do not recall Martialis saying that we were to remain inside the walls,’ she snapped, knowing full well that that had been what he meant. It was for that reason that she’d had the pair, and a mule for her to ride, at the east gate as soon as it opened, a time when Martialis would still have been abed. He was probably only stirring now, while they were more than a mile from the city. ‘Do you?’

‘N-no, mistress,’ he replied sullenly.

‘Less of your insolence then, and more attention to the road. Because of the war, there are more latrones about than ever. Keep your eyes peeled for bandits and your cudgels ready.’

The slave exchanged a look with his companion before buttoning his lip.

Good, thought Aurelia, urging her mule on with her heels. That should keep them quiet for a few miles. After that, I’ll tell them that it’s only another short distance. By the time they find the courage to question me again, we’ll practically be there. She tried not to think about the wooded area through which they’d have to pass some five miles hence. It was a favourite spot for travellers to be robbed. She rallied her courage. Nothing had ever happened to her or her family when travelling to or from Capua. Even if there were latrones in the woods, two sturdy slaves with clubs would be sufficient deterrent.

If Quintus were here, I’d feel safer, she thought with regret. There was no chance of that — she had no idea where he was. However, her brother was alive. Learning that had been the only thing to leaven Aurelia’s recent misery. The arrival of his letter — a month or so after Trasimene — had been a complete shock to her as well as her mother. Aurelia had wept for joy as Atia had read it aloud. She didn’t care that Quintus had argued with Fabricius, or that he had joined the socii contingents as a foot soldier rather than return home. All that mattered was that he was not dead. ‘Do not tell Father,’ Quintus had written. ‘He will not find me, no matter how hard he tries.’ Despite her obvious disapproval of his actions, Atia had also been unable to hide her joy at the news. She had even seemed to take in Quintus’ warnings about leaving the farm, even though it hadn’t been necessary. The urgency of her quest to marry Aurelia to Lucius had ensured that mother and daughter had not returned home since the confrontation with Phanes. The farm was too far from Capua for any wooing, or courting of Lucius’ father’s favour, to take place, so in Martialis’ house they had remained. ‘Agesandros is more than capable of running the place,’ Atia had said dismissively when Aurelia asked.

She wasn’t looking forward to meeting the overseer again, especially because she was on her own. Since Agesandros had killed Suniaton, she had never allowed herself to be alone with him. He scared her too much. He had done it ostensibly to protect the family, but it was really because he hated Carthaginians. Suni had done nothing! Aurelia thought sadly. He was a gentle soul who didn’t even want to become involved in the war. If I’d kept my mouth shut, he might still be alive. Remembering her slip of the tongue made her feel considerably worse. The journey began to drag even more. The temperature rose as the sun climbed into the azure sky. Aurelia’s dress clung to her back; sweat prickled her scalp, making her regret that she had not brought a hat. Her mule was as stubborn a beast as she’d met, refusing to walk faster than a steady plod. The slaves made one more attempt to question her authority before giving up, but they paid her back with resentful expressions and a shuffling pace that scarcely kept up with the mule. What Aurelia liked least, however, was the empty countryside.

The area was scattered with the farms and estates of her family’s neighbours. Normally, the fields were full of slaves at work. Today, there was barely a soul to be seen. Most of the wheat and barley had been harvested, but areas of blackened ground showed that a decent proportion of it had been burned instead. Some people were taking Fabius’ advice at face value, thought Aurelia scornfully, even though no Carthaginian soldiers had been seen within miles of Capua. Her contempt was somewhat of a pretence. By all accounts, it was only good fortune that had prevented enemy foragers from raiding this far to the north and west. She was glad to be living in Capua with its strong stone walls. Whatever Hannibal’s skill in the field, Lucius was fond of saying, he had no siege engines. Without those, he had no chance of taking a town the size of Capua. ‘Unless he had help from the inside,’ Martialis had once said quietly, shocking Aurelia. She was used to thinking of the old man and Gaius as Roman, but of course they were Oscans first. The Oscan people had lived in the area for hundreds of years, and had only acceded to Rome’s rule a few generations before.

‘What are you saying?’ she had asked.

‘It was just an old man’s little joke,’ Martialis had murmured, smiling.

Well, it would never come to that, Aurelia decided, dismissing the idea as ridiculous.

Nonetheless, unsettling thoughts of Carthaginian soldiers filled her mind for the rest of the journey. When the familiar outline of the family’s villa and farm buildings appeared in the distance, relief filled her. To her surprise, one of their herdsmen was in position by the front gate, several of his large dogs by his feet and a bow sitting across his knees. It turned out that Agesandros had set armed guards all around the farm’s perimeter, their mission to alert everyone else in the event of any enemy troops being seen. One whistle blast meant a small group and a stand to arms; two blasts signified larger enemy numbers, necessitating a wholesale evacuation to the woods. Aurelia did not let Agesandros see how impressed she was. Instead she nodded as if she’d have done the same thing.

‘And your mother knows that you are here?’ he asked for the second time.

‘She does.’ It wasn’t a complete lie. By now, Atia would have found her note. She prayed that her mother hadn’t made the discovery until it was too late to set out in pursuit.

‘It is a little out of the ordinary for her to allow you to travel here with only two slaves as protection. These are dangerous times to be abroad, even for the legions.’

‘It’s not for me to question my mother’s decisions.’ Nor for you to do so either was the implication.

Agesandros took the hint. ‘How long will you be staying?’

Aurelia bridled, but it wasn’t an unreasonable question. ‘Only one night.’ Any longer than that and her mother would probably arrive. She wanted to avoid the indignity of being dragged back to Capua. As it was, Aurelia wouldn’t be surprised if she met Atia on the road the following morning. Even that would be better than Agesandros seeing her chastised. She glanced at him, seeing his curiosity. Let him wonder why I’m here, she thought fiercely. It’s none of his damn business. He’ll find out about my wedding soon enough — from Martialis’ slaves, most likely.

‘While you are here, I would ask that you stay close to the house.’

‘Why?’ demanded Aurelia, her temper flaring. It had been her intention to walk to the clearing where Quintus had taught her to use a sword.

‘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.’

I know that voice! thought Hanno in amazement and rage. That’s Agesandros, the bastard.

‘Good boys, good boys. Just let me unclip your leads, and you can run free.’

Shit! Hanno cursed his stupidity for pushing his luck this far. The hounds were so close that they’d catch his scent within a few moments. He began tiptoeing backwards. The further away he got before they were released, the better. If he had any favour remaining with the gods, the dogs might run off in a different direction. Then one of the hounds barked, and fear seized him. That notion was downright foolish. He seized the lowest branch of a cypress, knowing it would do little good. Without a doubt, the dogs would tree him. When Agesandros realised, he would force him down at the point of a spear. A howl; and then another one. All hope left him as he swung himself up on to the first limb. Tanit, do not desert me now, he prayed. Don’t let me die here, like this. It was an instinctive response, a rhetorical question. Divinities did not intervene like that, at least not in his experience.

‘Agesandros?’

Hanno froze. No. It can’t be.

‘What are you still doing outside, Aurelia? It’s late.’

Aurelia was here? Hanno nearly fell out of the tree with surprise.

‘I want to sit outside for a while,’ she said.

‘I was just about to set the dogs loose.’

‘That can wait, can’t it?’

‘I’d be happier if they were running about now-’

‘If I’m here, all they’ll do is hang around, looking for treats. Please, Agesandros. I won’t be long.’

A short pause. ‘Very well. I’ll return them to their pen. Find me in my room when you’re coming in.’

‘Thank you.’

Hanno was so astonished that he almost expected to see Tanit herself urging the Sicilian away. He watched with delight as Agesandros’ shape returned to the yard. It seemed beyond belief, beyond all possible coincidence that she should be here on the very night he had crept in. Yet, as he breathed, Aurelia stood not twenty paces away. He longed to call out, but what could he say? She would have no idea that it was he. Her most likely response would be to scream for Agesandros and the dogs. He peered at her again, and was relieved to see that she was walking closer. Where was she going? Hanno dropped lightly to the earth, placed his sword on the ground and waited. As she drew alongside, he darted out behind her. Grabbing her waist with one hand and her mouth with the other, he whispered into her ear, ‘Don’t make a sound. It’s me, Hanno!’

She writhed beneath his grasp, but he held on to her for dear life. ‘I swear it to you. It is I, Hanno. I have come to see you.’ She wriggled again, but Hanno detected less resistance than before. He was suddenly aware of the warmth of her back and buttocks against his flesh, and of the feel of her breasts heaving against his hand. Was that perfume she was wearing? A wave of desire rushed over him; it was followed by huge embarrassment. Without thinking, he released her and stood back, every nerve jangling.

She spun, mouth open in shock. ‘H-Hanno?’

He took a step towards her; then he stopped. ‘Yes.’ Words failed him.

‘What? Where? How did you get here?’ The words tumbled from her mouth.

‘I rode.’ It sounded so stupid, a giggle left his lips. ‘From my camp. It’s only ten miles away.’

‘Oh gods. Are you going to raid the farm?’ Her voice was full of terror.

‘No, no, of course not. Aurelia, I would never-’

‘I’m sorry,’ she interjected. ‘Some of the stories I’ve heard have been terrible.’

‘I know. I’m sorry too.’ He wanted to add that her people had done the same and worse to his in the previous war, but there was no point.

‘These things happen in war,’ she said sadly. ‘But I don’t want to talk about that. I can’t believe you’re here again, when I am too. I’ve been living in Capua recently. But seeing you, it’s so unexpected — but wonderful! I have prayed for you.’

‘And I for you.’ He still couldn’t believe his eyes.

They smiled at each other, suddenly shy because they had both changed so much in the time since they’d last seen each other. She’s become an adult, thought Hanno. She’s beautiful. Little did he know, but Aurelia was thinking similar things of him.

‘Is Quintus alive? Have you heard from him?’

‘He’s fine. We heard about how you captured him at the Trebia and set him and Father free.’ Her voice caught a little. ‘That was good of you.’

‘It was the least I could do, after what he’d done for me. And your father?’

‘He is also well, thank the gods. May the gods keep them both safe.’

‘Yes indeed.’ He asked for the same for his own family. ‘I wouldn’t have slain Flaccus,’ Hanno felt impelled to say, ‘but my brothers overrode my decision. Our orders were to kill all enemy troops who fell into our hands.’ He remembered the resentment he’d felt at the discovery that Flaccus was to marry Aurelia.

‘I don’t blame you. I was relieved,’ she whispered. ‘I scarcely knew him. We had only met once.’

‘You deserve a better man than Flaccus,’ he said gruffly. ‘A man like Suni, maybe. Was it long before he left the shepherd’s hut?’ She didn’t answer at once. Hanno cursed to himself. ‘If I offended you, I’m sorry,’ he said awkwardly. ‘It’s just that Suni is a gentle soul. He would make a good husband to you.’ Still she didn’t speak. He began to feel uneasy. ‘Aurelia?’

‘I–I don’t know how to say this. How to tell you.’

‘What?’

‘Suni is. .’

‘Not. . dead? No. No.’ He staggered back a step.

‘I’m so sorry, Hanno.’

‘But his leg was healing!’ he cried, raising his voice.

‘Shhhh. Someone will hear.’

Hanno took a deep breath. ‘He would have had a bad limp, but that’s all,’ he whispered. ‘What in Melqart’s name happened?’

In a trembling voice, she told him.

‘Agesandros,’ he muttered in disbelief. ‘That whoreson killed Suni?’

‘It’s my fault. I should never have brought him into the house.’

‘You’re not to blame. If you hadn’t taken him in, he would have died at the hut.’

‘Didn’t you hear what I said? If I hadn’t spoken his name, Agesandros might never have realised. Suni might still be alive.’ She began to weep.

Before he knew it, he had stepped forward to take her in his arms. ‘It was a slip of the tongue, nothing more. Anyone could make the same mistake. Besides, you know what Agesandros is like. He would have discovered Suni’s real identity sooner or later.’

‘I was so terrified the whole time.’ She pressed herself into his chest. ‘It was even worse when Suni was gone. Agesandros had no reason to harm me, but that’s not how it felt.’

‘I ought to go in there and kill him right now,’ Hanno said from between gritted teeth.

‘No, please don’t. He has armed all the male slaves. At least three are on watch in the yard. I couldn’t bear it if you were killed, when you’ve only just returned from the dead.’

Hanno doubted whether a few agricultural slaves could stop him, but Aurelia’s heartfelt request held him where he was. ‘The filthy dog will have to pay for what he did one day,’ he swore.

‘The gods will see to that.’

Or I will, thought Hanno grimly. There was no way that he could let the murder of his best friend go unanswered. Already his mind was racing at the thought of raiding the farm once Aurelia was gone. He discarded the notion at once. He knew and liked many of the slaves here. Unless a good number of them were to die, he would have to keep his soldiers away.

‘It is so good to see you.’

Hanno’s attention shot back to Aurelia. She was looking up at him, her face so close that he could see every detail. The strands of black hair on her cheek. Her eyes, fixed on his. Her half-open lips. The pulse at the base of her throat. It was mesmerising. He felt a great urge to kiss her.

‘Since you and Quintus left, and Suni was killed, I have been so lonely. Mother and I fight all the time. There’s been no one for me to talk to. Gaius was here for a while, but he’s gone now too.’

‘Quintus’ friend? The one who helped Suni to escape?’

‘Yes. He serves with the socii cavalry.’ Aurelia felt guilty at the mere thought of Gaius. Had she fantasised about him because she’d thought never to see Hanno again? She wasn’t sure about that. What she was certain of was how good it felt to have Hanno so close to her. Bitterness took Aurelia. What did it matter? There was a war on. Hanno could not stay, and she was to marry Lucius.

‘Gaius is a good man. The gods will protect him as well.’ That didn’t seem to make her any happier. Hanno bent his neck the tiniest fraction, towards her. She didn’t pull away. ‘Do you know why I came back?’

‘No. Why?’ Her breath came fast and shallow.

‘Because you asked me to. Do you remember?’

‘Of course. I cried myself to sleep that night.’

Hanno could take it no more. He crushed his lips to hers, felt them melt beneath the pressure. His tongue darted out and was met by hers. They kissed long and hard, their hands roaming all over each other’s bodies. Aurelia moulded herself against him; he could feel her breasts against his chest, her groin against his stiffness. Hanno cupped her buttocks with both hands, felt her gasp with desire. It was all he could do not to tear off her dress and take her right there. Yet that was not how he wanted it to be. It was also far too dangerous to linger. ‘Come away with me,’ he urged. ‘We could be back at my camp before dawn.’

‘You’re not serious!’ She stared into his eyes. ‘You are.’

‘I’d never say such a thing if I didn’t mean it.’ Even as the words left his mouth, Hanno knew them for utter madness. Women followed Hannibal’s army, it was true, but they were whores every one. Aurelia would never survive the cutthroat nature of that existence. Soldiers and, in particular, officers were not allowed to have women live and travel with them. Hannibal himself had set the example by leaving his own wife to lead the campaign. He was guiltily grateful, therefore, when she whispered, ‘I cannot leave with you.’

‘Why not?’

‘A woman has no place in an army that is at war. Especially when that woman is one of the enemy.’

‘No one would lay a hand on you. I’d kill them!’

‘You know it would never work, Hanno.’ She smiled at his strangled protest. ‘Even if you could take me, I would not go.’

He recoiled, hurt. ‘Why not?’

She guided his fingers to her left hand in silence. There was a ring on her third finger.

He recoiled from the warm metal. ‘You’re betrothed to another? Already?’

‘Yes. Mother organised it. His name is Lucius Vibius Melito. He’s a good man.’

‘Do you love him?’ he spat.

‘No!’ She caressed his cheek. ‘It’s you I truly care about.’

‘Then why can’t you come with me?’ Who knew if they two could be happy together, but Hanno couldn’t bear the idea of her living her life with a man she didn’t even love.

She was grateful that the darkness concealed the flush that coloured her cheeks. ‘If I don’t wed Melito, my father will be ruined.’ In a low voice, she explained. ‘So you see, I have no choice. Once I am part of a powerful family, the moneylender will back off. That will give enough time for my father, and possibly Quintus, to win promotions. Then the debts can be paid off.’

Hanno thought that a dubious way of trying to earn money. What if either — or both — of them were killed? he wanted to ask. ‘Is it just one moneylender?’

‘One man holds the vast majority of my father’s debts, yes. Phanes, he’s called.’

‘He’s a sewer rat. Shame he isn’t here. I’d give him a reason to write off the money.’

She touched his cheek. ‘Thank you. You can’t do anything about him, though. Let’s not talk about him. We have little enough time.’

Grumbling, Hanno stored away the name for future reference. He lost his train of thought as she pulled him into another, prolonged kiss. Her fingers caressed his shoulders, moved on to his neck and before he could stop her, under the cloth that protected his scar. Feeling the puckered flesh, she tensed. ‘What happened to you? Were you wounded?’

The familiar fury filled Hanno. He wanted to rant about what Pera had done to him, but there was no point. Aurelia wasn’t responsible, so instead he said, ‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’

‘You were lucky to survive.’ Her voice trembled. ‘A wound in a place like that, well. .’

‘It took a few days to recover, that’s all.’ He kissed her again, and she responded with fierce passion, as if by her actions she could undo the harm. Hanno’s heart filled, and he returned her urgency with his own hunger. His fingers gently tugged down the shoulders of her dress to expose her small breasts. He bent his neck and took one of her nipples in his mouth. ‘Gods,’ he heard her murmur. ‘Don’t stop.’

‘Aurelia?’

It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over them both. Hanno straightened, mouthing a curse, frantically reaching for his sword. He melted into the darkness by the nearest cypress as Aurelia struggled to pull up her dress, to regain her composure. ‘Agesandros? Is that you?’

‘Who else?’ came the dry response. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m here.’ An urgent whisper to Hanno: ‘I have to go. I will try to come out again later.’

‘I can’t wait,’ he said, his voice thick with regret. ‘The dogs will find me.’

‘Why are you hiding there, under the trees?’ Agesandros called.

‘Hiding? I was just walking back to the house,’ cried Aurelia brightly. She threw Hanno a look full of longing. ‘I would that this meeting could have lasted forever,’ she whispered. ‘May the gods always watch over you and keep you safe.’

‘And over you too,’ replied Hanno passionately.

‘I will keep him talking as long as I can, but you had better move fast. If the dogs catch your scent-’

‘They won’t. Goodbye, Aurelia. I will always remember you.’ He watched miserably for a moment as she walked away; she didn’t look back. Then he retreated into the darkness. The instant that Agesandros was no longer visible, he began to run. Sorrow gripped him as he sped through the trees. This visit was supposed to have been an exciting one, a joyful one. Instead it had proved to be more heart-rending than he could have imagined. To have been reunited with Aurelia against all the odds had been astonishing — like a very gift from the gods. Yet like so many apparently divine interventions, it was double-edged. Their encounter had been brutally brief, and there was to be no happily-ever-after. Aurelia was soon to be wed to another man. Sadness filled Hanno.

What about Suni? he thought. To Hanno’s shame, his grief over what had happened to his old friend kept being overwhelmed by thoughts of Aurelia. Yet, even if another meeting could be engineered with her, what was the point? Before long, she would be a married woman with a new life ahead of her. Compared to that, he could offer her nothing at all — not even a life on campaign. It would be best — for Aurelia as well as him — to wish her well and forget her, he decided.

But as he scaled the boundary wall, found his horse and rode in the direction of his camp, Hanno found that impossible to do. He found himself reliving every moment, every touch, every word she had spoken. It was, he realised in the days that followed, a type of mental torture: momentary exquisite pleasure from the memories of their intimacy, followed by hours of pain from the knowledge that it would never be repeated. After his return to the main body of the army, it had been the turn of other units to go out on foraging missions. That was bad enough, but as the host turned south in search of fresher areas to pillage, the permanence of his separation from Aurelia was hammered home. After that, the only ways for Hanno to achieve any kind of peace were in combat — scarce enough to find at that time, with the Romans refusing any offers of battle — or at the bottom of an amphora of wine.

At times, he wished that he’d never ridden to the farm, never met her, not discovered Suni’s fate. Somehow, though, the pain was worth it. Deep in Hanno’s heart, an ember of hope still burned that, one day, he might meet Aurelia again in happier circumstances. It was so fragile, so small that he scarcely dared acknowledge its existence. But it helped him to go on. That, and the burning desire to bury his sword in the hearts of men such as Agesandros and Pera.