Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

‘Yes,’ Flaccus replied proudly. ‘He crushed the Boii four years ago.’

Aurelia had never heard of the Boii, but she wasn’t going to admit it. ‘I’ve heard Father mention that campaign,’ she said knowledgeably. ‘It was a fine victory.’

‘May the gods grant that I achieve the same level of success one day,’ Flaccus said fervently. His gaze went distant for a moment before returning to Aurelia. ‘Not to say I don’t like ordinary pleasures like watching chariot races, or going riding, and hunting.’

‘So do I,’ Aurelia said without thinking.

He smiled indulgently. ‘The racing in Rome is the best in Italy. I’ll take you to see it as often as you wish.’

Aurelia felt slightly annoyed. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

There was a small frown. ‘I don’t understand.’

Her courage wavered for a moment. Then she thought naively, If he’s to be my husband, we should tell each other everything. ‘I love riding too.’

Flaccus’ frown grew. ‘You mean watching your father or Quintus as they train their horses?’

‘No. I can ride.’ She was delighted by his astonishment.

It was Flaccus’ turn to be irritated. ‘How? Who taught you?’ he demanded.

‘Quintus. He says I’m a natural.’

‘Your brother taught you how to ride?’

Pinned by his direct stare, Aurelia’s confidence began to seep away. ‘Yes,’ she muttered. ‘I made him.’

Flaccus barked a short laugh. ‘You made him? Fabricius mentioned none of this when he was singing your praises.’

Aurelia looked down. I should have kept my mouth shut, she thought. Lifting her head, she found Flaccus scrutinising her. She shifted uneasily beneath his gaze.

‘Do you fight also?’

Aurelia’s mouth opened at his unexpected tack.

He thrust his right arm forward, mimicking a sword thrust. ‘Can you wield a gladius?’

Worried by what she’d already revealed, Aurelia kept her lips sealed.

‘I asked you a question.’ Flaccus’ voice was soft, but his eyes were granite hard.

What I’ve done isn’t a crime, thought Aurelia angrily. ‘Yes, I can,’ she retorted. ‘I’m far better with a sling, though.’

Flaccus threw his hands in the air. ‘I’m to be married to an Amazon!’ he cried. ‘Do your parents know of this?’

‘Of course not.’

‘No, I don’t suppose Fabricius would be too pleased. I can only imagine what Atia’s reaction might be.’

‘Please don’t tell them,’ Aurelia begged. ‘Quintus would be in so much trouble.’

He watched her for a moment, before a wolfish smile crossed his lips. ‘Why would I say a word?’

Aurelia couldn’t believe her ears. ‘You don’t mind?’

‘No! It shows your Roman spirit, and it means that our sons will be warriors.’ Flaccus held up a warning finger. ‘Don’t expect that you can carry on using weapons when we’re married, however. Such behaviour is not acceptable in Rome.’

‘And riding?’ Aurelia whispered.

‘We’ll see,’ he said. He saw her face fall, and a strange look entered his eyes. ‘My estate outside the capital is very large. Unless I tell them, no one knows what goes on there.’

Overwhelmed by Flaccus’ reaction, Aurelia missed the silky emphasis he laid on the last seven words. Perhaps marriage would not be as bad as she’d thought. She took his arm. ‘It’s your turn to tell me about yourself now,’ she murmured.

He gave her a pleased look, and began.

Quintus found his father outside, supervising the loading of his baggage on to a train of mules.

Fabricius smiled as he emerged. ‘What was it that you wanted to tell me earlier?’

‘It was nothing important,’ Quintus demurred. He had decided to give Flaccus the benefit of the doubt. He cast a dubious eye over the pack animals, which were laden down with every piece of his father’s military equipment. ‘How long do you think this war will last? Flaccus seems certain that it will be over in a few months.’

Fabricius checked that no one was in earshot. ‘I think he’s a little overconfident. You know what politicians can be like.’

‘But Flaccus is talking about getting married in June.’

Fabricius winked. ‘He wanted to settle on a date. I obliged. What could be better than the most popular month of the year? And if it can’t take place because we’re still on campaign, the betrothal agreement ensures that it will happen at some stage.’

Quintus grinned at Fabricius’ guile. He thought for a moment, deciding that his father was more likely to be correct than Flaccus about the war’s duration. ‘I’m already old enough to enlist.’

Fabricius’ face turned serious. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘As well as keeping an eye on you, I have asked Martialis to enrol you in the local cavalry unit, alongside Gaius. In my absence, your mother is obviously responsible for Aurelia and the care of the farm, but you will have to help her in every way possible. Yet I see no reason why you should not also begin your training.’

Quintus’ eyes glittered with delight.

‘Don’t get any madcap ideas,’ his father warned. ‘There is no question of being called up in the immediate future. The horsemen supplied by Rome and its surrounding area will be more than enough for the moment.’

Quintus did his best not to look disappointed.