A shadow fell across the threshold and Hanno looked up to see Elira carrying a clay jug and two beakers.
Her face lit up. ‘You’re awake!’
He nodded slowly, drinking her beauty in.
She rushed to his side. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Sore all over.’
She reached down and lifted a gourd from the floor. ‘Drink some of this.’
‘What is it?’ he asked suspiciously.
Elira smiled. ‘A dilute solution of papaverum.’ Seeing his confusion, she explained. ‘It will dull the pain.’
He was too weak to argue. Taking the gourd, Hanno took a deep swallow of the painkilling draught, screwing up his face at the bitter taste of the liquid within.
‘It won’t take long to work,’ Elira murmured reassuringly. ‘Then you can sleep some more.’
Abruptly, the Sicilian came to mind, and he tried to sit up. The small effort felt exhausting. ‘What about Agesandros?’
‘Don’t worry. Fabricius has seen your injuries, and warned him to leave you alone. The gods must have been in good humour, because he also agreed to let me care for you. It took a bit of persuasion, but Aurelia won him over,’ Elira said. She raised a hand to his sweating face. ‘Look, you are as weak as a kitten,’ she scolded. ‘Lie down.’
Hanno obeyed. Why would Aurelia care what happened to him? he wondered. Feeling the papaverum begin to take effect, he closed his eyes. It was a huge relief to know that one of his owner’s children was on his side, but Hanno doubted that Aurelia could shield him from Agesandros’ ill will. She was only a girl. Still, he thought wearily, his situation was better now than it had been. Perhaps the gods were showing him favour once more? Keeping that idea uppermost, Hanno relaxed and let sleep take him.
Chapter VII: A Gradual Shift
Hanno did little more than sleep and eat for the next three days. Under Elira’s approving eyes, he devoured plate after plate of food from the kitchen. His strength returned, and the pain of his injuries subsided. Soon he insisted that the strapping around his chest be removed, complaining that it was restricting his breathing. By the fourth day, he felt alert enough to venture outside. Fear stopped him, however. ‘Where’s Agesandros?’
Elira’s full lips flattened. ‘The whoreson is in Capua, thankfully.’
Relieved, Hanno shuffled outside. The yard was empty. All the slaves were at work in the fields. They sat down together in the sunshine and rested their backs against the cool stone of the stable walls. Hanno didn’t mind that there was no one around. It meant he could be alone with Elira, whose physical attractions were daily becoming more obvious. As the ache in his groin constantly told him, he hadn’t had a woman for many months. Yet merely to entertain such thoughts was dangerous. Even if Elira was willing, slaves were forbidden from having sexual relations with each other. What’s more, Hanno had seen the way she and Quintus looked at one another. Stay well away, he told himself sternly. Screwing the master’s son’s favourite slave would not be clever. There was a simpler way of satisfying himself. Less enjoyable, but far safer.
He needed something to take his mind off sex. ‘How did you come to be a slave?’
Elira’s surprise was instantly replaced by sadness. ‘That’s the first time anyone has asked me such a question.’
‘I guess it’s because we all have the same miserable story,’ said Hanno gently. He raised his eyebrows in an indication that she should continue.
Elira’s eyes took on a distant look. ‘I grew up in a little village by the sea in Illyricum. Most people were fishermen or farmers. It was a peaceful place. Until the day that the pirates came. I was nine years old.’ Her face darkened with anger, and sorrow. ‘The men fought hard, but they weren’t warriors. My father and my older brother, they…’ Her voice wobbled for a moment. ‘They were killed. But what happened to Mother was just as bad.’ Tears formed in her eyes.
Horrified, Hanno reached out to squeeze Elira’s hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered.
She nodded, and the movement made the tears spill down her cheeks. ‘We were taken to their ships. They sailed to Italy and sold us there. I haven’t seen Mother or my sisters since.’
As Elira wept, Hanno cursed himself for opening his mouth. Yet the Illyrian’s sorrow made her even more attractive. It was hard not to imagine wrapping her in his arms to comfort her. He was therefore relieved to see Aurelia approaching from the direction of the villa. Nudging Elira, he scrambled to his feet. The Illyrian had barely enough time to pull her hair down around her face and wipe away her tears.
Aurelia felt a tinge of jealousy at seeing Elira so close to Hanno. ‘You’re up and about!’ she said tartly.
He bobbed his head. ‘Yes.’
‘How do you feel?’
Hanno touched his ribs. ‘Much better than I did a few days ago, thank you.’
Aurelia’s sympathy surged back at the sight of Hanno wincing. ‘It’s Elira you should be grateful to. She’s a marvel.’
‘She is,’ agreed Hanno, giving Elira a slanted grin.
The Illyrian blushed. ‘Julius will be wondering where I am,’ she muttered, before hurrying off.
Aurelia’s annoyance returned, but, irritated with herself for even feeling it, she dismissed it at once. ‘You’re Carthaginian, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ Hanno replied warily. He’d never yet had a proper conversation with Fabricius or any of his family. In his mind, they were still very much the enemy.
‘What’s Carthage like?’
He couldn’t help himself. ‘It’s huge. Perhaps a quarter of a million people live there.’
Despite herself, Aurelia’s eyes widened. ‘But that’s far bigger than Rome!’
Hanno had the sense not to utter the sarcastic response that rose to his lips. ‘Indeed.’ Aurelia seemed interested, so he launched into a description of his city, picturing it in his mind’s eye as he did. Realising eventually that he had lost the run of himself, Hanno fell silent.
‘It sounds beautiful,’ Aurelia admitted. ‘And you looked so happy while you were talking.’
Feeling utterly homesick, Hanno stared at the ground.
‘It’s not surprising, I suppose,’ said Aurelia kindly. Looking curious, she tipped her head to one side. ‘I remember that you speak Greek as well as Latin. In Italy, only nobles learn that tongue. It must be much the same in Carthage. How did someone so well educated end up as a slave?’
Balefully, Hanno lifted his gaze to hers. ‘I forgot to ask a blessing of our most powerful goddess before I went on a fishing trip with my friend.’ He saw her enquiring expression. ‘Suni, the one you saw in Capua. After catching plenty of tunny, we drank some wine and fell asleep. A sudden storm took us far out to sea. Somehow, we survived the night, but the next day a pirate ship found us. We were sold in Neapolis, and taken to Capua to be sold as gladiators. Instead I was bought by your brother.’ Hanno hardened his voice. ‘Who knows what happened to my friend, though?’ He was pleased to see her flinch.
Annoyed, Aurelia recovered quickly. Handsome or not, he’s still a slave, she thought. ‘Everyone at the slave market has a sad story. That doesn’t mean that we can buy them all. Consider yourself lucky,’ she snapped.
Hanno bowed his head. She might be young, but she’s got spirit.
An awkward silence fell.
It was broken by Atia’s voice. ‘Aurelia!’
Aurelia’s face took on a hunted look. ‘I’m in the yard, Mother.’
Atia appeared a moment later. She was wearing a simple linen stola and elegant leather sandals. ‘What are you doing here? We were supposed to be practising the lyre.’ Her gaze passed over Hanno. ‘Isn’t this the slave whom Agesandros beat? The Carthaginian?’
‘Yes, Mother.’ A touch of colour appeared in Aurelia’s cheeks. ‘I was checking with Elira that his recovery was satisfactory.’
‘I see. It’s good that you are taking an interest in things like that. It’s all part of running the household.’ Atia eyed Hanno with more interest. ‘That broken nose isn’t healed, but otherwise he looks fine.’