‘Since you and Quintus left, and Suni was killed, I have been so lonely. Mother and I fight all the time. There’s been no one for me to talk to. Gaius was here for a while, but he’s gone now too.’
‘Quintus’ friend? The one who helped Suni to escape?’
‘Yes. He serves with the socii cavalry.’ Aurelia felt guilty at the mere thought of Gaius. Had she fantasised about him because she’d thought never to see Hanno again? She wasn’t sure about that. What she was certain of was how good it felt to have Hanno so close to her. Bitterness took Aurelia. What did it matter? There was a war on. Hanno could not stay, and she was to marry Lucius.
‘Gaius is a good man. The gods will protect him as well.’ That didn’t seem to make her any happier. Hanno bent his neck the tiniest fraction, towards her. She didn’t pull away. ‘Do you know why I came back?’
‘No. Why?’ Her breath came fast and shallow.
‘Because you asked me to. Do you remember?’
‘Of course. I cried myself to sleep that night.’
Hanno could take it no more. He crushed his lips to hers, felt them melt beneath the pressure. His tongue darted out and was met by hers. They kissed long and hard, their hands roaming all over each other’s bodies. Aurelia moulded herself against him; he could feel her breasts against his chest, her groin against his stiffness. Hanno cupped her buttocks with both hands, felt her gasp with desire. It was all he could do not to tear off her dress and take her right there. Yet that was not how he wanted it to be. It was also far too dangerous to linger. ‘Come away with me,’ he urged. ‘We could be back at my camp before dawn.’
‘You’re not serious!’ She stared into his eyes. ‘You are.’
‘I’d never say such a thing if I didn’t mean it.’ Even as the words left his mouth, Hanno knew them for utter madness. Women followed Hannibal’s army, it was true, but they were whores every one. Aurelia would never survive the cutthroat nature of that existence. Soldiers and, in particular, officers were not allowed to have women live and travel with them. Hannibal himself had set the example by leaving his own wife to lead the campaign. He was guiltily grateful, therefore, when she whispered, ‘I cannot leave with you.’
‘Why not?’
‘A woman has no place in an army that is at war. Especially when that woman is one of the enemy.’
‘No one would lay a hand on you. I’d kill them!’
‘You know it would never work, Hanno.’ She smiled at his strangled protest. ‘Even if you could take me, I would not go.’
He recoiled, hurt. ‘Why not?’
She guided his fingers to her left hand in silence. There was a ring on her third finger.
He recoiled from the warm metal. ‘You’re betrothed to another? Already?’
‘Yes. Mother organised it. His name is Lucius Vibius Melito. He’s a good man.’
‘Do you love him?’ he spat.
‘No!’ She caressed his cheek. ‘It’s you I truly care about.’
‘Then why can’t you come with me?’ Who knew if they two could be happy together, but Hanno couldn’t bear the idea of her living her life with a man she didn’t even love.
She was grateful that the darkness concealed the flush that coloured her cheeks. ‘If I don’t wed Melito, my father will be ruined.’ In a low voice, she explained. ‘So you see, I have no choice. Once I am part of a powerful family, the moneylender will back off. That will give enough time for my father, and possibly Quintus, to win promotions. Then the debts can be paid off.’
Hanno thought that a dubious way of trying to earn money. What if either — or both — of them were killed? he wanted to ask. ‘Is it just one moneylender?’
‘One man holds the vast majority of my father’s debts, yes. Phanes, he’s called.’
‘He’s a sewer rat. Shame he isn’t here. I’d give him a reason to write off the money.’
She touched his cheek. ‘Thank you. You can’t do anything about him, though. Let’s not talk about him. We have little enough time.’
Grumbling, Hanno stored away the name for future reference. He lost his train of thought as she pulled him into another, prolonged kiss. Her fingers caressed his shoulders, moved on to his neck and before he could stop her, under the cloth that protected his scar. Feeling the puckered flesh, she tensed. ‘What happened to you? Were you wounded?’
The familiar fury filled Hanno. He wanted to rant about what Pera had done to him, but there was no point. Aurelia wasn’t responsible, so instead he said, ‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’
‘You were lucky to survive.’ Her voice trembled. ‘A wound in a place like that, well. .’
‘It took a few days to recover, that’s all.’ He kissed her again, and she responded with fierce passion, as if by her actions she could undo the harm. Hanno’s heart filled, and he returned her urgency with his own hunger. His fingers gently tugged down the shoulders of her dress to expose her small breasts. He bent his neck and took one of her nipples in his mouth. ‘Gods,’ he heard her murmur. ‘Don’t stop.’
‘Aurelia?’
It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over them both. Hanno straightened, mouthing a curse, frantically reaching for his sword. He melted into the darkness by the nearest cypress as Aurelia struggled to pull up her dress, to regain her composure. ‘Agesandros? Is that you?’
‘Who else?’ came the dry response. ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m here.’ An urgent whisper to Hanno: ‘I have to go. I will try to come out again later.’
‘I can’t wait,’ he said, his voice thick with regret. ‘The dogs will find me.’
‘Why are you hiding there, under the trees?’ Agesandros called.
‘Hiding? I was just walking back to the house,’ cried Aurelia brightly. She threw Hanno a look full of longing. ‘I would that this meeting could have lasted forever,’ she whispered. ‘May the gods always watch over you and keep you safe.’
‘And over you too,’ replied Hanno passionately.
‘I will keep him talking as long as I can, but you had better move fast. If the dogs catch your scent-’
‘They won’t. Goodbye, Aurelia. I will always remember you.’ He watched miserably for a moment as she walked away; she didn’t look back. Then he retreated into the darkness. The instant that Agesandros was no longer visible, he began to run. Sorrow gripped him as he sped through the trees. This visit was supposed to have been an exciting one, a joyful one. Instead it had proved to be more heart-rending than he could have imagined. To have been reunited with Aurelia against all the odds had been astonishing — like a very gift from the gods. Yet like so many apparently divine interventions, it was double-edged. Their encounter had been brutally brief, and there was to be no happily-ever-after. Aurelia was soon to be wed to another man. Sadness filled Hanno.
What about Suni? he thought. To Hanno’s shame, his grief over what had happened to his old friend kept being overwhelmed by thoughts of Aurelia. Yet, even if another meeting could be engineered with her, what was the point? Before long, she would be a married woman with a new life ahead of her. Compared to that, he could offer her nothing at all — not even a life on campaign. It would be best — for Aurelia as well as him — to wish her well and forget her, he decided.
But as he scaled the boundary wall, found his horse and rode in the direction of his camp, Hanno found that impossible to do. He found himself reliving every moment, every touch, every word she had spoken. It was, he realised in the days that followed, a type of mental torture: momentary exquisite pleasure from the memories of their intimacy, followed by hours of pain from the knowledge that it would never be repeated. After his return to the main body of the army, it had been the turn of other units to go out on foraging missions. That was bad enough, but as the host turned south in search of fresher areas to pillage, the permanence of his separation from Aurelia was hammered home. After that, the only ways for Hanno to achieve any kind of peace were in combat — scarce enough to find at that time, with the Romans refusing any offers of battle — or at the bottom of an amphora of wine.