Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

‘Well?’ Atia demanded. ‘Are you sufficiently recovered?’

Hanno couldn’t exactly refuse. ‘Yes, mistress,’ he murmured.

‘He’s got three cracked ribs,’ Aurelia protested.

‘That’s no reason to stop him working in the kitchen,’ Atia replied. She stared at Hanno. ‘Is it?’

It would be far less effort than toiling in the fields, thought Hanno. He bowed his head. ‘No, mistress.’

Atia nodded. ‘Good. Follow us back to the house. Julius will have plenty for you to do.’

Secretly delighted, Aurelia followed her mother. She would no longer need an excuse to come and see Hanno.

‘Quintus wants us to watch him sparring with your father,’ said Atia in a proud yet wistful tone.

‘Oh.’ Aurelia managed to convey all of her disapproval and jealousy in one word.

Atia turned. ‘Enough of that attitude! Would you rather spend the time playing the lyre or talking Greek with your tutor?’

‘No, Mother,’ Aurelia muttered furiously.

‘Fine.’ Atia’s frown eased. ‘Come on then.’

Hanno was fascinated. All the girls he’d ever met were perfectly happy to stick with womanly pursuits. Aurelia was made from a different mould.

They entered the house via a small postern gate. It was incorporated into one of the two large timber doors that formed the entrance. Hanno looked around keenly. It was the first time he had been in the villa proper. The simple elegance of its design did not fail to impress him. Carthaginian homes were typically built for functionality, rather than beauty. Elegant mosaics and colourful wall paintings were the exception, not the rule.

In the courtyard, they found Fabricius and Quintus moving carefully around each other. Both were clad in simple belted tunics, and carrying wooden swords and round cavalry shields.

Seeing Atia and Aurelia, they paused.

Fabricius raised his weapon in salute to Atia, who smiled.

‘Finally,’ said Quintus drolly to his sister.

Aurelia did her best to look enthusiastic. This is better than music lessons, she told herself. ‘I’m here now.’

Quintus looked to his father. ‘Ready?’

‘When you are.’

The two stepped closer, raising their swords. The points met with a dull clunk. Both remained still for a moment, trying to gauge when the other would move.

Atia clapped her hands. ‘Fetch some fruit juice,’ she ordered Hanno. She pointed. ‘The kitchen is over there.’

He tore his eyes away from the contest. ‘Yes, mistress.’ Adopting the preferred slave walk, slow and measured, Hanno did as he was told. Happily, he was able to continue observing.

Quintus was first to act. He swept his gladius down, carrying his father’s blade towards the ground. In the same movement, he drew back his right arm and thrust forward, straight at the other’s chest. Fabricius quickly met the attack with his shield. With a great heave, he lifted it in the air. Quintus’ sword was also carried up by the move, which exposed his right armpit. Knowing that his father would strike at his weak point, Quintus desperately twisted to the left and retreated several steps. Fabricius was on him like a striking snake. Despite his father’s ferocity, Quintus managed to hold off the assault. ‘Not bad,’ Fabricius said at length, pulling back. They paused to catch their breath before renewing the engagement.

To Quintus’ delight, he drew first blood. His success came thanks to an unexpected shoulder charge at his father that enabled him to thrust his gladius around their shields. The point snagged in the left side of Fabricius’ tunic. Despite the fact that the blade was wooden, it tore a great hole in the fabric, raked along his ribs and broke the skin. He bellowed in pain, and staggered backwards. Knowing that his father would now find it agonising to lift his sword, Quintus prepared to follow through and win the bout.

‘Are you all right?’ Aurelia cried.

Fabricius did not answer. ‘Come on,’ he growled at Quintus. ‘Think you can finish me?’

Stung, Quintus lifted his gladius and ran forward. When he was only a step away, he feinted to the right and then to the left. A backward slash at Fabricius’ head followed, and his father’s response was barely enough to prevent the blow from landing. Quintus crowed with triumph and pushed on, keen to press home his advantage. Surprising him utterly, Fabricius backed away so fast that Quintus overbalanced and fell. As he landed, Fabricius spun round and placed his sword tip at the base of Quintus’ neck. ‘Dead meat,’ he said calmly.

Furious and embarrassed, Quintus got to his feet. Catching sight of Hanno, he scowled. ‘What are you looking at?’ he yelled. ‘Get about your business!’

Ducking his head to conceal his own anger, Hanno headed for the kitchen.

‘Don’t take it out on a slave,’ cried Aurelia. ‘It’s not his fault.’

Quintus glared at his sister.

‘Calm down,’ said Fabricius. ‘You were undone because you were overconfident.’

Now Quintus’ face went beetroot.