Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

Although Fabricius’ homecoming meant that the secret trips stopped, Hanno was pleased to learn that his master was soon to return to Rome. Eavesdropping as he served food to the family, Hanno heard how the debates in the Senate about Hannibal were constant now, with some factions favouring negotiations with Carthage and others demanding an immediate declaration of war. ‘There’s far more interest in that than the eligible daughter of a country noble,’ Fabricius revealed to Atia.

Aurelia was barely able to conceal her delight, but her mother pursed her lips. ‘Have you found no one suitable?’

‘I’ve found plenty,’ Fabricius replied reassuringly. ‘I just need more time, that’s all.’

‘I want to know the best candidates,’ said Atia. ‘I can write to those of their mothers who are living. Arrange a meeting.’

Fabricius nodded. ‘Good idea.’

Let it take for ever, Aurelia prayed. In the meantime, I can practise with Quintus. It had been a joy to discover that handling a sword came naturally to her. She burned to train further, while she still could.

Her brother’s reaction, however, was the opposite to hers. ‘How long will you be gone?’ he asked glumly.

‘I’m not sure. It could be weeks. I’ll definitely be back for Saturnalia.’

Quintus looked horrified. ‘That’s months away!’

‘It’s not the end of the world,’ said Fabricius, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘You’ll be starting your military training next spring anyway.’

Quintus was about to protest further but Atia intervened. ‘Your father’s business is far more important than your desire to train with a gladius. Be content that he is here now.’

Reluctantly, Quintus held his silence.

Bending their heads together, their parents fell into a private conversation.

It was probably about her prospective husbands, thought Aurelia furiously. She kicked Quintus under the table and framed the words ‘We can go to the clearing more often’ at him. When he raised his eyebrows, she repeated them and thrust an imaginary sword at him.

At last Quintus understood, and a happier expression replaced the sullen one.

Hanno hoped that Quintus and Aurelia would take him along too. Agesandros could not do a thing to him while he was with them. Moreover, he had come to enjoy the outings.

‘Do you still think this is a good idea?’ asked Atia when the children were gone.

Fabricius grimaced. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You said yourself that no one suitable is interested in finding a bride at the moment.’

‘So?’

‘Maybe we should leave it for six months or a year?’

His frown deepened. ‘Where’s the benefit in that? Don’t tell me that you’re having second thoughts?’

‘I-’

‘You are!’

‘Do you remember our reason for getting married, Fabricius?’ she asked gently.

A guilty look stole on to his face. ‘Of course I do.’

‘Is it so surprising, then, that it’s hard for me to think of forcing Aurelia into an arrangement against her will?’

‘It’s difficult for me too,’ he objected. ‘But you know why I’m doing it.’

Atia sighed.

‘I’m trying to better our family. I can’t do that with a huge debt hanging over my head.’

‘You could always ask Martialis for help.’

‘I might owe thousands of didrachms to a moneylender in Capua, but I’ve still got my pride!’ he retorted.

‘Martialis wouldn’t think any less of you.’

‘I don’t care! I wouldn’t ever be able to look him in the eye again.’

‘It’s not as if you gambled the money away on chariot racing! You needed the money because of the terrible drought two years ago. There’s no shame in telling him that we had no crops to sell.’

‘Martialis isn’t a farmer,’ said Fabricius heavily. ‘He might understand if my problems were about property, but this…’

‘You could try,’ Atia murmured. ‘He’s your oldest comrade, after all.’

‘A friend is the worst possible person to borrow from. I’m not doing it.’ He fixed her with his stare. ‘If we don’t want the farm to be repossessed in the next few years, the only way forward is to marry Aurelia into a wealthy family. That knowledge alone will keep the moneylender off our backs indefinitely.’

‘Maybe so, but it won’t make the money appear from thin air.’

‘No, but with the gods’ favour, I will win more recognition in this war than I did in the last. After it’s over, I’ll secure a local magistrate’s job.’

‘And if you don’t?’

Fabricius blinked. ‘It’ll be down to Quintus. With the right patronage, he could easily reach the rank of tribune. The yearly pay that position brings in will make our debts seem like a drop in the ocean.’ He leaned in and kissed her confidently. ‘You see? I have it all worked out.’

Atia didn’t have the heart to protest any further. She couldn’t make Fabricius go to Martialis, nor could she think of another strategy. She smiled bravely, trying not to think of an alternative, but entirely possible scenario.

What if Fabricius didn’t come home from the war? What if Quintus never achieved the tribuneship?