Hannibal: Enemy of Rome

Relieved that the movements of his horse concealed his shaking arm, Quintus took aim at a man with a notched helmet. Let it be over soon, he prayed. May the gods look after Mother and Aurelia. He heard the shout of orders as the Carthaginian officers prepared their soldiers for a final volley, saw hundreds of men’s torsos twist as their right arms went back. Quintus closed his eyes. The darkness this granted was somehow comforting. He was aware of his pounding heart, and his mount between his knees. Bounded on each side by its companions, it would not stray from its course. All he had to do was hold on.

‘Quintus?’ bellowed a voice.

With a jerk, Quintus opened his eyelids. That shout had come from within the Carthaginian ranks. He glanced at his father. ‘Stop! You must stop!’

Something in Quintus’ tone penetrated Fabricius’ battle madness, and his fierce expression cleared. He raised his spear in the air. ‘Halt!’

Pulling hard on their reins, the Romans screeched to a halt ten paces from the forest of bristling spear tips. Unsettled, their horses tried to shy away. More than one Libyan shoved his weapon forward in an attempt to reach them. Quintus heard a familiar voice cry out in Carthaginian. Goosebumps rose on his arms. Ignoring his companions’ confusion, he scanned the enemy ranks. He couldn’t believe it when Hanno, clad in a Carthaginian officer’s uniform, elbowed his way out of the phalanx a moment later. Quintus lowered his spear. ‘Hanno!’

‘Quintus.’ Hanno’s tone was flat. He spoke in Latin. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We were on a patrol,’ he replied. ‘A reconnaissance mission.’

Hanno made a sweeping gesture with his right arm. ‘We control the whole plain. You must know that. What kind of fool would order an undertaking like that?’

‘Our consul,’ Quintus muttered. He wasn’t going to reveal Flaccus’ involvement.

Hanno gave a derisory snort. ‘Enough said.’

Quintus had the sense not to reply. He glanced at his father and saw that he too had recognised Hanno. Sensibly, Fabricius also said nothing. Flaccus and the cavalrymen looked baffled, and fearful. Quintus turned back to Hanno. He tried to ignore the fierce stares of the enemy soldiers.

‘Hanno!’ cried an angry voice. A torrent of Carthaginian followed as two more officers emerged, one from the phalanx on either side. The first was short and burly, with thick eyebrows, while the other was tall and athletic, with long black hair. Their features were too similar to Hanno’s to be coincidence. They had to be his brothers, thought Quintus. ‘You found your family, then?’

‘I did. And they want to know why you’re still alive.’ Turning to his siblings, Hanno launched into a long explanation. With his stomach knotted in tension, Quintus watched. Their very lives depended on what was said. There was plenty of shouting and gesticulating, but eventually Hanno seemed satisfied. The shorter of his brothers looked most unhappy, however. He continued muttering loudly as the taller brother approached the Romans. His face was hard, but not without kindness, thought Quintus warily. He had to be Bostar.

‘Hanno says that he owes his life to you twice over,’ Bostar said in accented Latin.

Quintus nodded. ‘That’s true.’

‘For that reason, we have agreed not to slay you, or your father.’ At this, Sapho launched into another tirade, but Bostar ignored him. ‘Two lives for two debts.’

‘And the others?’ asked Quintus, feeling sick.

‘They must die.’

‘No,’ Quintus muttered. ‘Take them as prisoners. Please.’

Bostar shook his head and turned away.

Cries of fear rose from the cavalrymen. Flaccus, however, sat up straight on his horse, gazing with contempt at the Libyans.

Quintus’ gaze shot to Hanno, and found no pity there. ‘Show them some mercy.’

‘We have our orders,’ said Hanno in a harsh voice. ‘But you and your father are free to go.’ He snapped out a command, and the phalanx behind him split open, opening a passage to the ford.

An idea struck Quintus. ‘There is one other family member here.’

Hanno turned. ‘Who?’ he demanded suspiciously.

Quintus indicated Flaccus. ‘He is betrothed to Aurelia. Spare him also.’

Hanno’s nostrils flared in belated recognition. ‘If they are not married, he is not yet part of your family.’

‘You would not deprive Aurelia of her prospective husband, surely?’ Quintus pleaded.

Hanno was shocked to feel resentful. ‘You ask for more than you know,’ he said from between gritted teeth.

‘I ask it nonetheless,’ replied Quintus, meeting his gaze.

Hanno stalked closer to Flaccus. If the truth be known, he did not want to withdraw the hand of friendship so fast, but this was one of the enemy.

Incredibly, Flaccus spat a gob of phlegm at his feet.