Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

Time went by, and Hanno was still working in the kitchen. Although an answer regarding his obligation to Quintus evaded him yet, he could not bring himself to abandon the farm without some attempt to find Suniaton. How the quest would be achieved, Hanno had no idea. Apart from him, who knew, or even cared, where Suniaton was now? The unanswerable dilemma kept him awake at night, and even distracted him from his usual lustful thoughts about Elira. Tired and irritable, he paid little attention one day when Julius announced an exhaustive menu that Atia had ordered for the following evening. ‘Apparently, she and the master are expecting an important visitor,’ said Julius pompously. ‘Caius Minucius Flaccus.’

‘Who in the name of Hades is that?’ asked one of the cooks.

Julius gave him a disapproving look. ‘He’s a senior figure in the Minucii clan, and the brother of a former consul.’

‘He’ll be an arrogant prick then,’ muttered the cook.

Julius ignored the titters this produced. ‘He’s also a member of the embassy that has just returned from Carthage,’ he declared as if the matter were of some importance to him.

Hanno’s stomach turned over. ‘Really? Are you sure?’

Julius’ lips pursed. ‘That’s what I heard the mistress saying,’ he snapped. ‘Now get on with your work.’

Hanno’s heart was thudding off his ribs like that of a caged bird as he went out to the storage sheds. Would Fabricius’ visitor speak of what he’d seen? Hanno begged the gods that he would. Passing the entrance to the heated bathroom, he saw Quintus stripping off. Well for him, thought Hanno sourly. He hadn’t had a hot bath since leaving Carthage.

Blithely unaware of Hanno’s feelings, Quintus’ excitement was rising by the moment. Wanting to look his best that evening, he bathed, before enjoying a massage by a slave. Sleepily imagining how Flaccus might recount everything that had gone on in Carthage, he was barely aware of Fabricius entering the room.

‘This visit is very important, you know.’

Quintus opened his eyes. ‘Yes, Father. And we will play our part in the war, if it comes.’

Fabricius half smiled. ‘That goes without saying. When Rome calls, we answer.’ Clasping his hands behind his back, he walked up and down in silence.

The feel of the strigil on his skin began to irritate Quintus, and he gestured at the slave to stop. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s about Aurelia,’ Fabricius answered.

‘You’ve arranged to marry her off, then,’ he said, shooting his father a bitter glance.

‘It’s not definite yet,’ said Fabricius. ‘But Flaccus liked what he heard of Aurelia when I visited him in the capital some time ago. Now he wants to see her beauty for himself.’

Quintus scowled at his naivete. Why else would a high-ranking politician pay a social visit to equestrians as lowly as they?

‘Come now,’ said Fabricius sternly. ‘You knew this would happen one day. It’s for the good of the family. Flaccus is not that old, and his clan is powerful and well connected. With the support of the Minucii, the Fabricii could go far.’ He stared at Quintus. ‘In Rome, I mean. You understand what I’m saying?’

Quintus sighed. ‘Does Aurelia know yet?’

‘No.’ It was Fabricius’ turn to look troubled. ‘I thought I would speak to you first.’

‘Make me part of it?’

‘Don’t take that line with me. You would also benefit,’ snapped his father.

Excitement flared in Quintus’ breast, and he hated himself for it. He’d seen Aurelia mooning over Hanno. An impossible infatuation for her, but one he’d done nothing to end. And now this. ‘What made you decide on Flaccus?’

‘I’ve been trying to organise something for the last two years,’ Fabricius replied. ‘Searching for the right man for our family, and for Aurelia. It’s a tricky business, but I think Flaccus could be the one. He was going to be passing close to here anyway upon his return from Carthage. All I did was to make sure that an invitation was waiting for him when he landed.’

Quintus was surprised by his father’s cunning. No doubt his mother had had a hand in it, he thought. ‘How old is he?’

‘Thirty-five or so,’ said Fabricius. ‘That’s a lot better than some of the old goats who wanted to meet her. I hope she appreciates that.’ He paused. ‘One last thing.’

Quintus looked up.

‘Don’t ask any questions about what happened in Carthage,’ his father warned. ‘It is still a matter of state secrecy. If Flaccus chooses to fill us in on some of the details, so be it. If he does not, it’s none of our business to ask.’ With that, he was gone.

Quintus lay back on the warm stone slab, but all his enjoyment was gone. He would go to Aurelia the moment his father had finished speaking with her. What he would say, Quintus had no idea. His mood dark, he got dressed. The best place to watch Aurelia’s doorway unobtrusively was from a corner of the tablinum. Quintus made his way to the large reception room. He hadn’t been there long when Hanno entered, carrying a tray of crockery.

Seeing Quintus, Hanno smiled. ‘Looking forward to this evening?’ I am, he thought with glee.