Hippocrates made a phhhh of contempt, but Epicydes smiled. ‘We have sufficient numbers to defend the city, and a little more. When the armies that Hannibal speaks of arrive from Carthage, we shall sweep Marcellus’ forces into the sea!’
‘May it turn red, as the waters did at Trasimene,’ added Hippocrates.
‘I look forward to that day,’ said Hanno. ‘I will do my utmost to help you both achieve that end.’
‘Were you there, at the lake?’ asked Hippocrates, his eyes eager.
‘I was, General.’ Hannibal had absolved him and the other phalanx commanders of blame after their units had been punched open, allowing thousands of legionaries to escape the carnage, but Hanno still felt a trace of guilt.
‘As were we. I don’t recall your face.’ This in a slightly accusatory tone.
‘I was present, nonetheless,’ said Hanno, his temper rising a little. Hippocrates seemed argumentative, and impossible to please.
‘No one can remember one face out of many thousands! His word is enough. Hannibal states that you’re an experienced infantry officer,’ said Epicydes, his eyes appraising.
‘That’s true, General. I fought at the Trebia, Trasimene and Cannae, and most of the battles in between and since.’
‘It’s a mark of Hannibal’s esteem that he picked you for this mission, and that he gave you this.’ Epicydes picked up the ring and admired it. ‘Here.’ He tossed it to Hanno, earning a scowl from Hippocrates.
‘I was going to keep that.’
‘It’s not yours to keep, brother,’ said Epicydes.
‘My thanks, General,’ said Hanno, clenching the ring in his fist, and hiding his growing dislike of Hippocrates. ‘How can I be of service?’
Epicydes regarded Hippocrates. ‘What think you, brother? Shall we give him the command of a unit of infantry?’
‘I suppose,’ replied Hippocrates with poor grace. ‘But what damn difference one officer is going to make, I don’t know.’ He got up and walked to stand over the prisoner who was lying on the floor. ‘What have you to say?’
The only answer he got was a whimper.
‘Ignore him,’ said Epicydes to Hanno, meaning Hippocrates. ‘You can take charge of some of our less experienced foot soldiers. They’ll benefit from the training you can provide. If you could help other officers to do the same, I’d be grateful. When the siege begins, I’ll give you a section of wall to defend.’
‘It would be an honour, General.’ Hanno warmed towards Epicydes, who was courteous at least. He was unsure what useful intelligence would come his way when fulfilling that role, but there was little he could say.
‘Your role will come into its own when the promised forces from Carthage arrive. We’ll need an officer who speaks both Greek and Carthaginian, won’t we, brother?’
That’s more promising, thought Hanno.
‘Yes, yes,’ answered Hippocrates, sounding uninterested. He kicked the prisoner. ‘If you won’t give me any information, you’re no damn use to me.’ He glanced at the soldiers who were guarding the captives. ‘Throw him over the edge.’
Epicydes made a vaguely apologetic gesture to Hanno as the sobbing man was hauled by his arms to the battlements and without hesitation, flung to his death. A despairing cry carried to the garden for perhaps two heartbeats after he disappeared, before abruptly stopping.
Gods, what a way to die, thought Hanno. Keeping his expression neutral, he asked, ‘What had he done?’
‘Ha! Not told me what I wanted to hear, that’s what,’ replied Hippocrates, looking irritated.
‘He was a suspected traitor,’ said Epicydes. ‘So is his companion.’
‘Suspected?’ The question had left Hanno’s lips before he could stop it.
‘Correct.’ Epicydes’ voice had lost its friendly edge. Meanwhile, Hippocrates had ordered the second prisoner taken to the spot where his comrade had gone over, and was making all kinds of threats.
‘The other one will be more likely to talk now, I’d wager.’ Hanno laughed, as if he’d enjoy watching.
‘No doubt,’ said Epicydes, his good humour returning. ‘Hippocrates can be very persuasive.’ A moment later, the screams began, proving his point, but Epicydes made no acknowledgement of them. ‘Kleitos will find you rooms, weapons and equipment. We will meet again soon.’
Hanno knew when he had been dismissed. ‘Thank you, General. And my new unit?’
‘I’ll send a messenger with the details.’
Hanno bowed and muttered more platitudes. As he walked away with Kleitos, he couldn’t help but glance at Hippocrates. He wished he hadn’t. The prisoner had just had his ear sliced off. Hippocrates examined it for a moment before tossing that over the edge and remarking that if the man didn’t want to follow it, he’d better start talking.
Hannibal had been right, Hanno decided. Hippocrates was dangerous. For all of his friendliness, so too was Epicydes. He had been sent to live in a nest of vipers.
Chapter VI
By the time that their vessel had been at sea for a day, Aurelia was beginning to wonder if her decision to travel to Rhegium had been a wise one. Her restricted existence as a wife and mother had long irritated her, but it was easy to rail against such things from the safety of Rome. Now she was at the mercy of the elements, which were controlled by the gods, a set of beings with whom she had a troubled relationship. Since Cannae, she had been careful not to voice such feelings, yet she worried that the deities could discern her mistrust. She had made plentiful offerings before their departure, partly penitence for her behaviour, partly to ask that her husband might live — indeed, might recover from his injuries — and lastly, that they had a trouble-free voyage.
Neptune and the wind gods appeared not to have heard her requests. Within an hour of leaving Ostia, the bright, sunny weather had vanished; squalls and rain showers had battered the open-decked merchantman until well into the afternoon. The boat’s constant rocking motion had made Aurelia feel sick, but poor Publius had been worst affected, vomiting until nothing came up but bile. Tempsanus was little better, while Agesandros seemed completely unaffected. If anything, his mood lightened with each mile that they travelled south.
Things improved as the sun fell in the sky. The choppy winds died down, and a breeze from the north settled in at their backs, pushing them towards their destination. They made a good distance before the captain, a balding man with a little paunch, chose an anchorage for the night. Aurelia’s misgivings vanished on the second day, as they all but flew south on a gentle sea, under a blue sky. A school of dolphins rode in the ship’s bow wave for a time, delighting everyone, and veritable proof of Neptune’s favour.
At dawn on the third day, the captain announced that if the wind held and they saw no hostile vessels, sunset would see the end of their journey. Mention of ‘hostile’ forces set Aurelia’s nerves jangling, but hours passed without sight of anything other than an occasional fishing boat. Eventually, the lookout called that Sicily was in sight. They’d be docking at Rhegium within two hours, Tempsanus said with a smile. Aurelia’s mood lifted briefly, but her mind turned to Lucius, and fresh worry racked her. Was he even still alive? She prayed that he had not been claimed by Hades, that he would pull through. Such dark thoughts were averted by Publius, who escaped Elira’s grasp and scampered to her side. It was a welcome relief, and Aurelia began a game of Hide and Seek, using the mast to conceal herself from a delighted Publius.
‘Sail!’
Engrossed in the game, Aurelia didn’t pay much attention to the lookout’s call.
‘Where?’ asked the captain.
‘To the south, sir. It’s in the straits.’
‘Is it on its own?’
‘Seems to be, sir.’
‘What type of vessel is it — can you see?’ demanded the captain.
His tone caught Aurelia’s attention. She looked up the mast to where the lookout clung like a monkey, his hands gripping the wood and feet braced against a band of encircling rope.