Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

‘I scour the streets near the merchant port, listening to conversations and studying faces,’ Malchus answered. Seeing the confusion on the other’s face, he explained. ‘Looking for a clue, the smallest snippet of information, anything that might help to ascertain what happened to Hanno and Suni.’

Bodesmun looked baffled. ‘But we know what took place. The old man told us.’

‘I know,’ Malchus muttered, embarrassed at having to reveal his innermost secret. He had spent a fortune on sacrifices to Melqart, the ‘King of the City’, his sole request being that the god had somehow seen a way to prevent the boys’ boat from sinking. Of course, he’d had no answer, but he wouldn’t give up. ‘It’s just possible that they might be alive. That someone found them.’

Bodesmun’s eyes widened. ‘That’s a dangerous thing to go on believing,’ he said. ‘Be careful.’

Malchus’ nod was brittle. ‘How do you go on?’

Bodesmun looked up at the sky. ‘I pray to my god. I ask him to look after them both in paradise.’

That was too much for Malchus. Too final. ‘I have to go,’ he muttered. He strode off, leaving a forlorn Bodesmun in his wake.

A short while later, Malchus reached the Agora. Seeing large numbers of senators and politicians, he cursed. He’d forgotten that there was an important debate on this morning. He considered changing his plans and attending, but decided against it. The majority in the Senate now backed Hannibal solidly, and this was unlikely to change in the foreseeable future. As well as restoring Carthaginian pride with his conquests of Iberian tribes and intimidation of Saguntum, a Roman ally, Hannibal had helped to restore the city’s wealth. Although his long-term plans weren’t common knowledge, there could be few elders who didn’t suspect the truth.

Catching sight of Hostus, Malchus’ lip curled. He for one thought war against Rome was coming, and was forever speaking out against it. The fool, thought Malchus. As Carthage’s prosperity and pride returned, so conflict with Rome was inevitable. The annexation of Sardinia was a primary reason, and just one example of the wrongs visited upon his people by the Republic. In recent years it had continued to treat them in a disrespectful manner. Constantly sending snooping embassies to Iberia, where it had no jurisdiction, Rome had forged an alliance with Saguntum, a Greek city many hundreds of miles from Italy. It had then had the effrontery to impose a unilateral treaty on Carthage, forcing it not to expand its territories northwards towards Gaul.

Deep in thought, Malchus did not see Hostus recognise him. By the time the fat man had waddled self-importantly to his side, it was too late to get away. Cursing his decision to take the shorter route to the harbours, Malchus gave Hostus a curt nod.

Hostus flashed a greasy smile. ‘Not coming to the debate this morning?’

‘No.’ Malchus tried to brush past.

Moving adroitly for his size, Hostus blocked the way. ‘We have noted your absence in the chamber of late. Missed your valuable insights.’

Malchus stopped in his tracks. Hostus wouldn’t care if he died, let alone wasn’t present at council meetings. He fixed the other with a flinty stare. ‘What do you want?’

‘I know that of late you have had more important things than Carthage on your mind.’ Hostus leered. ‘Family matters.’

Malchus wanted to choke Hostus until his eyeballs popped out, but he knew that would be rising to the bait. ‘Of course you always act for the good of Carthage,’ he snapped. ‘Never for the silver from the Iberian mines.’

A tinge of colour reddened Hostus’ round cheeks. ‘The city has no more loyal servant than I,’ he blustered.

Malchus had had enough. He elbowed past without another word.

Hostus wasn’t finished. ‘If you tire of visiting Melqart’s temple, there is always the Tophet of Baal Hammon.’

Malchus spun around. ‘What did you say?’

‘You heard me.’ Hostus’ smile was more of a grimace. ‘You may have only livestock to offer, but there are plenty in the slums who will sell a newborn or young child for a handful of coins.’ Seeing Malchus’ temper rising, Hostus gave him a reproving look. ‘Such sacrifices have saved Carthage before. Who is to say a suitable offering would not please Baal Hammon and bring your son back?’

Hostus’ barbed taunt sank deep, but Malchus knew that the best form of defence was attack. Give the dog no satisfaction. ‘Hanno is dead,’ he hissed. ‘Any fool knows that.’

Hostus flinched.

Malchus poked a finger in his chest. ‘Unlike you, I would not murder another’s child to make a request of a god. Nor would I have ever offered my own, unlike some around here. To do so is the mark of a savage. Not of someone who truly loves Carthage and would lay down his own life for it.’ Leaving Hostus gaping in his wake, Malchus stalked off.