Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

Quintus laughed. ‘Nearly twice the price of a farm slave.’ He made to leave. His face a cold mask, Agesandros did too. Then Quintus paused. He was growing tired of the Sicilian’s negative attitude. The Carthaginian was as good as any of the others he’d seen. If he could barter the Solinus down, why not buy him? He turned. ‘We only need one,’ he barked. The slaves glanced fearfully at each other, confirming Quintus’ hunch that they spoke Latin.

The Solinus grinned, revealing an array of rotten teeth. ‘Which?’

Ignoring Agesandros’ frown, Quintus pointed at the slave he’d examined.

The Latin leered. ‘How does 140 didrachms sound?’

Quintus made a dismissive gesture. ‘One hundred.’

Solinus’ face turned hard. ‘I have to make a living,’ he growled. ‘130. That’s my best price.’

‘I could go ten didrachms more, but that’s it,’ said Quintus.

Solinus shook his head vehemently.

Quintus was incensed by Agesandros’ delighted look. ‘I’ll give you 125,’ he snapped.

Agesandros leaned in close. ‘I haven’t got that much,’ he muttered sourly.

‘I’ll sell the bear pelt, then. That’s worth at least twenty-five didrachms,’ Quintus retorted. He’d planned on using it as a bed cover, but winning this situation came first.

Suddenly keen, Solinus stepped forward. ‘It’s a fair price,’ he said.

Agesandros’ fists closed over the purse.

‘Give it to him,’ ordered Quintus. When the Sicilian did not react, his anger boiled over. ‘I am the master here. Do as I say!’

Reluctantly, Agesandros obeyed.

The small victory pleased Quintus no end. ‘That’s a hundred. My man here will bring the rest later,’ he said.

Even as he pocketed the money, Solinus’ mouth opened in protest.

‘My father is Gaius Fabricius, an equestrian,’ Quintus growled. ‘The balance will be paid before nightfall.’

Solinus backed off at once. ‘Of course, of course.’ Pulling a bunch of keys from his belt, he selected one. He reached up to the iron ring around the Carthaginian’s neck. There was a soft click, and the slave stumbled forward, freed.

For the first time, Aurelia looked at him. I have never seen anyone so handsome, she thought, her heart pounding at the sight of his naked flesh.

The Carthaginian’s dazed expression told Quintus that he hadn’t quite taken in what was happening. It was only when his companion muttered something urgent in Carthaginian that the realisation sank in. Tears welled in his eyes, and he turned to Quintus.

‘Buy my friend as well, please,’ he said in fluent Latin.

I was right, thought Quintus triumphantly. ‘You speak my language.’

‘Yes.’

Agesandros glowered, but the siblings ignored him.

‘How come?’ Aurelia asked.

‘My father insisted I learn it. Greek too.’

Aurelia was fascinated, while Quintus was delighted. He had made a good choice. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Hanno,’ the Carthaginian answered. He indicated his comrade. ‘That’s Suniaton. He’s my best friend.’

‘Why didn’t you answer the overseer’s question?’

For the first time, Hanno met his gaze. ‘Would you?’

Quintus was thrown by his directness. ‘No… I suppose not.’

Encouraged, Hanno turned to Aurelia. ‘Buy us both – I beg you. Otherwise my friend could be sold as a gladiator.’

Quintus and Aurelia glanced at each other in surprise. This was no peasant from a faraway land. Hanno was well educated, and from a good family. So was his friend. It was a bizarre, and uncomfortable, feeling.

‘We require one slave. Not two.’ Agesandros’ clarion voice was a harsh call back to reality.

‘We could come to some arrangement, I’m sure,’ said Solinus ingratiatingly.

‘No, we couldn’t,’ the Sicilian snarled, cowing him into submission. He addressed Quintus. ‘The last thing the farm needs is an extra mouth to feed. Your father will already want to know why we spent so much. Best not blow any more of his money, eh?’

Quintus wanted to argue, but Agesandros was right. They only needed one slave. He gave Aurelia a helpless look. Her tiny, anguished shrug told him she felt the same way. ‘There’s nothing I can do,’ he said to Hanno.

The smirk of satisfaction that flickered across Agesandros’ lips went unnoticed by all except Hanno.

The two slaves exchanged a long glance, laden with feeling. ‘May the gods guide your path,’ Hanno said in Carthaginian. ‘Stay strong. I will pray for you every day.’

Suniaton’s chin trembled. ‘If you ever get home, tell my father that I am sorry,’ he said in an undertone. ‘Ask him for his forgiveness.’

‘I swear it,’ vowed Hanno, his voice choking. ‘And he will grant it, you may be sure of that.’

Quintus and Aurelia could not speak Carthaginian but it was impossible to misunderstand the overwhelming emotion passing between the two slaves. Quintus took his sister’s arm. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We can’t buy every slave in the market.’ He led her away, without looking at Suniaton again.