‘Where are we going, mistress?’ asked the older of the two slaves, a stoop-shouldered man with foul breath. His companion, a swarthy Iberian with a moustache, also turned.
‘To my family’s farm,’ said Aurelia curtly. ‘It’s not far.’
‘And the master knows that we’re going there?’
‘Of course he does,’ Aurelia lied. ‘As if it mattered! He ordered you to accompany me everywhere for my safety, did he not?’
He looked unhappy. ‘That was within Capua, mistress.’
‘I do not recall Martialis saying that we were to remain inside the walls,’ she snapped, knowing full well that that had been what he meant. It was for that reason that she’d had the pair, and a mule for her to ride, at the east gate as soon as it opened, a time when Martialis would still have been abed. He was probably only stirring now, while they were more than a mile from the city. ‘Do you?’
‘N-no, mistress,’ he replied sullenly.
‘Less of your insolence then, and more attention to the road. Because of the war, there are more latrones about than ever. Keep your eyes peeled for bandits and your cudgels ready.’
The slave exchanged a look with his companion before buttoning his lip.
Good, thought Aurelia, urging her mule on with her heels. That should keep them quiet for a few miles. After that, I’ll tell them that it’s only another short distance. By the time they find the courage to question me again, we’ll practically be there. She tried not to think about the wooded area through which they’d have to pass some five miles hence. It was a favourite spot for travellers to be robbed. She rallied her courage. Nothing had ever happened to her or her family when travelling to or from Capua. Even if there were latrones in the woods, two sturdy slaves with clubs would be sufficient deterrent.
If Quintus were here, I’d feel safer, she thought with regret. There was no chance of that — she had no idea where he was. However, her brother was alive. Learning that had been the only thing to leaven Aurelia’s recent misery. The arrival of his letter — a month or so after Trasimene — had been a complete shock to her as well as her mother. Aurelia had wept for joy as Atia had read it aloud. She didn’t care that Quintus had argued with Fabricius, or that he had joined the socii contingents as a foot soldier rather than return home. All that mattered was that he was not dead. ‘Do not tell Father,’ Quintus had written. ‘He will not find me, no matter how hard he tries.’ Despite her obvious disapproval of his actions, Atia had also been unable to hide her joy at the news. She had even seemed to take in Quintus’ warnings about leaving the farm, even though it hadn’t been necessary. The urgency of her quest to marry Aurelia to Lucius had ensured that mother and daughter had not returned home since the confrontation with Phanes. The farm was too far from Capua for any wooing, or courting of Lucius’ father’s favour, to take place, so in Martialis’ house they had remained. ‘Agesandros is more than capable of running the place,’ Atia had said dismissively when Aurelia asked.
She wasn’t looking forward to meeting the overseer again, especially because she was on her own. Since Agesandros had killed Suniaton, she had never allowed herself to be alone with him. He scared her too much. He had done it ostensibly to protect the family, but it was really because he hated Carthaginians. Suni had done nothing! Aurelia thought sadly. He was a gentle soul who didn’t even want to become involved in the war. If I’d kept my mouth shut, he might still be alive. Remembering her slip of the tongue made her feel considerably worse. The journey began to drag even more. The temperature rose as the sun climbed into the azure sky. Aurelia’s dress clung to her back; sweat prickled her scalp, making her regret that she had not brought a hat. Her mule was as stubborn a beast as she’d met, refusing to walk faster than a steady plod. The slaves made one more attempt to question her authority before giving up, but they paid her back with resentful expressions and a shuffling pace that scarcely kept up with the mule. What Aurelia liked least, however, was the empty countryside.
The area was scattered with the farms and estates of her family’s neighbours. Normally, the fields were full of slaves at work. Today, there was barely a soul to be seen. Most of the wheat and barley had been harvested, but areas of blackened ground showed that a decent proportion of it had been burned instead. Some people were taking Fabius’ advice at face value, thought Aurelia scornfully, even though no Carthaginian soldiers had been seen within miles of Capua. Her contempt was somewhat of a pretence. By all accounts, it was only good fortune that had prevented enemy foragers from raiding this far to the north and west. She was glad to be living in Capua with its strong stone walls. Whatever Hannibal’s skill in the field, Lucius was fond of saying, he had no siege engines. Without those, he had no chance of taking a town the size of Capua. ‘Unless he had help from the inside,’ Martialis had once said quietly, shocking Aurelia. She was used to thinking of the old man and Gaius as Roman, but of course they were Oscans first. The Oscan people had lived in the area for hundreds of years, and had only acceded to Rome’s rule a few generations before.
‘What are you saying?’ she had asked.
‘It was just an old man’s little joke,’ Martialis had murmured, smiling.
Well, it would never come to that, Aurelia decided, dismissing the idea as ridiculous.
Nonetheless, unsettling thoughts of Carthaginian soldiers filled her mind for the rest of the journey. When the familiar outline of the family’s villa and farm buildings appeared in the distance, relief filled her. To her surprise, one of their herdsmen was in position by the front gate, several of his large dogs by his feet and a bow sitting across his knees. It turned out that Agesandros had set armed guards all around the farm’s perimeter, their mission to alert everyone else in the event of any enemy troops being seen. One whistle blast meant a small group and a stand to arms; two blasts signified larger enemy numbers, necessitating a wholesale evacuation to the woods. Aurelia did not let Agesandros see how impressed she was. Instead she nodded as if she’d have done the same thing.
‘And your mother knows that you are here?’ he asked for the second time.
‘She does.’ It wasn’t a complete lie. By now, Atia would have found her note. She prayed that her mother hadn’t made the discovery until it was too late to set out in pursuit.
‘It is a little out of the ordinary for her to allow you to travel here with only two slaves as protection. These are dangerous times to be abroad, even for the legions.’
‘It’s not for me to question my mother’s decisions.’ Nor for you to do so either was the implication.
Agesandros took the hint. ‘How long will you be staying?’
Aurelia bridled, but it wasn’t an unreasonable question. ‘Only one night.’ Any longer than that and her mother would probably arrive. She wanted to avoid the indignity of being dragged back to Capua. As it was, Aurelia wouldn’t be surprised if she met Atia on the road the following morning. Even that would be better than Agesandros seeing her chastised. She glanced at him, seeing his curiosity. Let him wonder why I’m here, she thought fiercely. It’s none of his damn business. He’ll find out about my wedding soon enough — from Martialis’ slaves, most likely.
‘While you are here, I would ask that you stay close to the house.’
‘Why?’ demanded Aurelia, her temper flaring. It had been her intention to walk to the clearing where Quintus had taught her to use a sword.