Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

Quintus snatched the brief respite from his father’s tirade. ‘Agesandros. He had it in for Hanno from the first moment I bought him. Don’t you remember what happened when the Gaul hurt his leg?’

‘An over-enthusiastic beating is no reason to free a slave,’ Fabricius snapped. ‘If it was, there would be no servile labour in the whole damn Republic.’

‘I know it isn’t, Father,’ said Quintus humbly. ‘But after your letter arrived in the spring, Agesandros planted a purse and a dagger among Hanno’s belongings. Then he accused him of stealing them, and planning to kill us all before he fled. He was going to sell Hanno to the same owner who had bought his friend. They were to be forced to fight each other as gladiators at a munus, he said. And it was all a complete lie!’

Fabricius thought for a moment. ‘What did your mother have to say?’

‘She believed Agesandros,’ Quintus answered reluctantly.

‘Which should have been good enough for you,’ Fabricius thundered.

‘But he was lying, Father!’

Fabricius’ brows lowered. ‘Why would Agesandros lie?’

‘I don’t know, Father. But I’m certain that Hanno is no murderer!’

‘You can’t know something like that,’ replied Fabricius dryly. Quintus took heart from the fact that some of the rage had gone from his voice. ‘Never trust a slave totally.’

Quintus rallied his courage. ‘In that case, how can you depend on Agesandros’ word?’

‘He’s served me well for more than twenty years,’ his father replied, a trifle defensively.

‘So you’d trust him over me?’

‘Watch your mouth!’ Fabricius snapped. There was a short pause. ‘Start at the beginning. Leave nothing out.’

Quintus realised that he had been granted a stay of execution. Taking a deep breath, he began. Remarkably, his father did not interrupt at all, even when Quintus related how Aurelia had set a fire in the granary, and how he and Gaius had freed Suniaton. When he fell silent, Fabricius stood, tapping his foot on the ground for several moments. ‘Why did you decide to help the other Carthaginian?’

‘Because Hanno would not leave without him,’ Quintus answered. Then he added, passionately, ‘He is my friend. I couldn’t betray him.’

‘Hold on!’ interrupted Fabricius, ire creeping back into his voice. ‘We’re not talking about Gaius here. Freeing a slave without the permission of his owner is a crime, and you have done it twice over! This is a very serious matter.’

Quintus quailed before his father’s fury. ‘Of course, Father. I’m sorry.’

‘Both of the slaves are long gone, if they have any sense,’ mused Fabricius. ‘Thanks to your impetuosity, I have been left more than a hundred didrachms out of pocket. So has the official’s son in Capua.’

Quintus wanted to say that Gaius had tried to buy Suniaton, but his father’s temper was at fraying point. Buttoning his lip, he nodded miserably.

‘As your father, I am entitled to punish you how I choose,’ Fabricius warned. ‘Even to strike you dead.’

‘I’m at your mercy, Father,’ said Quintus, closing his eyes. Whatever might happen next, he was still glad that he’d let Hanno go.

‘Although you and your sister have behaved outrageously, I heard the truth in your words – or at least the belief that you were speaking the truth. In other words, you did what you thought was right.’

Startled, Quintus opened his eyes. ‘Yes, Father. So did Aurelia.’

‘Which is why we’ll say no more about it for the moment. The matter is far from settled, however.’ Fabricius pursed his lips. ‘And Agesandros will have some explaining to do when next I see him.’

I hope I’m there to see that, thought Quintus, his own anger at the Sicilian resurfacing.

‘You still haven’t explained why you abandoned your mother and sister to make your way here.’ Fabricius pinned him with a hard stare.

‘I thought the war might be over in a few months, like Flaccus said, Father. I didn’t want to miss it,’ Quintus said lamely.

‘And that’s a good enough reason to disobey my orders, is it?’

‘No,’ Quintus replied, flushing an ever deeper shade of red.

‘Yet that’s precisely what you did!’ accused his father. He stared off into the distance. ‘It’s not as if I haven’t got enough on my plate at the moment.’

‘I’ll get out of your way. Return home,’ Quintus whispered.

‘You’ll do no such thing! The situation is far too dangerous.’ Fabricius saw his surprise. ‘Publius has decided to lead his forces over the river Padus, into hostile territory. A temporary bridge has already been thrown over to the far bank. Tomorrow morning, we march westward, towards Hannibal’s army. No Roman forces are to be left behind, and the local Gauls can’t be trusted. You’d have your throat cut within five miles of here.’

‘What shall I do, then?’ asked Quintus despondently.

‘You will have to come with us,’ his father replied, equally unhappily. ‘You’ll be safe in our camp until an opportunity presents itself to send you back to Capua.’