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.
‘I can’t see, sir. It’s too low down on the horizon.’
‘Neptune’s hairy arse crack,’ said the captain under his breath.
Pushing a laughing Publius towards Elira, Aurelia went to the captain’s side. ‘You’re worried,’ she said as Tempsanus joined them. Agesandros had somehow managed to put himself within earshot too.
‘There’s no point lying. I am.’ The captain made a sign against evil. ‘Marcellus’ ships dominate these waters, so more than likely it’s one of ours. But there’s no guarantee. The Syracusans send out vessels from time to time. It could even be a gugga trireme, blown north. The point is, we won’t know until we’ve got a lot closer, perhaps even entered the straits. If it does turn out to be unfriendly at that point, we’ll be so near that it might be able to run us down.’
‘What should we do?’ asked Tempsanus, his normal jovial expression absent.
‘Go a little closer, perhaps. See if the sail gives us an idea of its identity. Or we could just turn about, and row north. If it doesn’t follow us, so much the better. We can anchor off one of the Lipari Islands overnight and set sail before it gets light. We’d be in Rhegium in no time.’ The captain’s tone left no doubt that the latter option would be his choice, but he was not the master. Tempsanus was, because he’d chartered the vessel. Aurelia’s pulse beat a little faster as she glanced at her husband’s partner. She wanted to reach their destination as fast as possible, but not at any cost.
‘Avoiding trouble seems the best option,’ said Tempsanus, casting a look at Aurelia. ‘One more day won’t matter.’
Aurelia smiled in acceptance. I’ll be with you soon, husband, she thought. Hold on.
The captain was noticeably relieved by Tempsanus’ words. He cupped a hand to his mouth. ‘Reef the sails, and look lively about it!’
A dozen of the crew scrambled to the lines, but they had barely touched them when the lookout shouted ‘Sail!’ for the second time.
‘Where?’ yelled the captain.
‘Behind us, sir. It’s come out of nowhere. Must have been in the lee of one of the islands.’
All eyes turned to the ship’s stern. Perhaps a mile to their rear, a square sail, larger than theirs, could be seen plain as day. The captain cursed, and Aurelia felt a little sick. She didn’t need to be told that the newcomer had the wind behind him. If it was using its oars as well, they’d be overtaken before long.
‘Leave those lines be!’ roared the captain. He glanced at Tempsanus. ‘That one’s not friendly, sir, not the way he appeared. I don’t want to hang around to check, which leaves us no choice.’
‘To run south, and pray that the ship there is not an enemy?’ said Tempsanus.
‘If that’s all right with you, sir.’
‘Do as you see fit. A thousand extra drachms for you if we make Rhegium tonight.’
The captain’s teeth flashed. ‘I’ll do my best, sir.’ He stalked down the catwalk, ordering the fifty crewmen to their benches and for the oars to be run out. ‘I want us at top speed,’ Aurelia heard him tell the second-in-command. ‘Our best chance of outrunning them is now. You know what the wind’s like when we enter the strait—’
‘Unreliable as a Phoenician moneylender in a bad mood, sir.’
‘If it’s blowing to the south, we’ll be laughing. But if it’s the other way around
?’ The captain grimaced.
Aurelia’s fear grew a fraction more. Prayer was her only resource. She tried not to feel hopeless about that.
Before long, their fortunes had taken a further turn for the worse. The ship behind them had caught up sufficiently to block their route north, and the sail that they’d seen to the south turned out to belong to a trireme. Bigger, faster, with more than three times the number of oarsmen, it scythed through the waves towards them. The painted eyes above its ram were hideous, and its decks bristled with soldiers and archers. A standard near the prow revealed it to be Syracusan.
Fear blossomed on Aurelia’s ship. The oarsmen slowed their stroke, yet no one said a thing. ‘They must row!’ said Tempsanus, a sheen of sweat decorating his brow.
‘What’s the point?’ retorted the captain. ‘We’re done.’
Tempsanus seemed about to protest when a voice speaking bad Latin carried across the water: ‘Heave to, or we’ll ram you!’
Throwing an I-told-you-so expression at Tempsanus, the captain ordered the oars shipped.
‘Can we not fight?’ demanded Tempsanus.
‘That lot? We’re sailors, sir, not soldiers.’
The trireme closed to within a long bowshot. It was aiming to come in beside their vessel. Men were clustered at the side rails, ready to board the instant that the two craft closed with each other.
‘I’ll make it worth your while.’
‘We’d be massacred, sir. Sorry to say, but your drachms are no longer worth a thing.’
Aurelia fought to stay calm. For a change, she was grateful for Agesandros’ presence by her side. ‘What will happen?’ she asked the captain, pleased that her voice was steady.
‘With a little luck, lady, they’ll just seize the ship and force us to serve as its crew, with a captain and officers of their own.’ He hesitated before adding regretfully, ‘As for you passengers, well, I couldn’t say.’
Aurelia’s gaze moved to Tempsanus’ face, which was twisted with fear.
‘We’ll be enslaved,’ grated Agesandros. ‘Killed if we’re unlucky.’
Aurelia locked her knees to keep them from folding. I’ve been so stupid, she thought. I should have taken Tempsanus’ advice, and stayed in Rome.
‘I can kill you now,’ muttered Agesandros. ‘And your son. It would save you both a lot of suffering.’
Horrified, Aurelia checked his face. The offer was genuine, she saw. So too was the concern in his eyes.
‘Terrible things could happen to you. You have no idea—’
‘No.’
‘What if Publius is sold to someone else? Have you thought about that?’
‘That will not happen! I will appeal to the captain. He’ll recognise that I’m a noblewoman.’
‘That will make little difference,’ said Agesandros.
‘You’re not killing us,’ she hissed. ‘What will you do?’
‘Let myself be taken. Slavery’s nothing new to me. I’ll escape when my chance comes. If I can help you then, I will.’
Aurelia swallowed, and prayed harder than she had at any time since before Cannae. Spare me and my child. Spare us all.
Another order came over, in the same poor Latin. ‘Lay your oars in!’
The captain hastily repeated the command, and the crew heaved in their sweeps, the port-side ones completing the task just as the trireme came gliding in alongside. Its oars had already been neatly shipped. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Timber ground off timber as the two hulls met. The Syracusans didn’t wait for their ship to stop moving. Half a dozen, then a dozen soldiers leaped on to the merchantman’s deck, their weapons drawn. ‘Throw down your arms!’ yelled one in mangled Latin. He repeated the command in Greek.
The few crew on the deck fell to their knees, begging for mercy. The men at the oars didn’t even lift their eyes. The captain raised his hands in the air and said in passable Greek, ‘We’re unarmed. The ship is yours.’
Agesandros stepped in front of Aurelia, who had beckoned Elira and Publius to her side. To his credit, Tempsanus did the same. ‘Stay calm, my lady,’ he whispered. ‘I will defend you.’
‘No, Tempsanus,’ she protested, but he had stepped forward. ‘We are civilians,’ he began.
The lead soldier’s reply was instant, and brutal. He shoved his sword into Tempsanus’ belly, right up to the hilt. There was a terrible ‘Ooooffff’ of pain, which quickly became a scream. Using his shield, the soldier pushed Tempsanus off his blade, and down into the midst of the oarsmen. There he roared in agony. The soldier eyed Agesandros, who was next, with cold eyes.
Aurelia felt Agesandros tense. Despite their troubled history, there was no point in him throwing away his life like this. It would achieve nothing. ‘Stop,’ she whispered, before stepping around him. ‘I am a Roman noblewoman,’ she said loudly in Greek. ‘Harm me at your peril.’
‘I’ve never fucked a Roman matron. Didn’t think to find one on this tub either,’ declared the soldier with a chuckle. ‘My luck’s just changed, brothers!’
His comrades laughed, and Aurelia felt her bowels loosen. Agesandros stirred beside her, and this time, she didn’t have the resolve to stop him.
‘HOLD!’ shouted the same voice that had ordered them to heave to. ‘No one is to be killed, or fucked, until I have had a look at them.’
Frustrated, the soldier stayed put and Aurelia breathed again. Another pair of feet thumped on to the decking and, a moment later, she found herself face to face with a handsome Syracusan officer. He hadn’t even bothered to draw his sword. ‘You are?’ he asked in an arrogant drawl.
‘My name is Aurelia, wife of Lucius Vibius Melito,’ she said, as calmly as her thumping heart would allow. ‘I am of the equestrian class, and I demand to be treated as such.’
‘You’ll demand nothing.’ His tone’s silkiness made it even more threatening. ‘If I but give the word, my men here will do every kind of vile thing to you, and to your female slave. Your child – by your expression I can see that he’s yours – will see every bit of it. I suggest that you shut your mouth, and give us no trouble.’
Aurelia could not remember ever being so scared, but was damned if she’d let him see it. She nodded.
The officer pushed past, pausing to look at Publius and Elira. ‘Bind them all, except the child,’ he ordered. ‘Transfer them to our ship.’
Aurelia found her voice again as the soldiers swarmed in. ‘Where are you taking us?’
‘Syracuse, of course.’
Aurelia shivered. She had been such a fool. She’d be lucky to escape this unharmed, and with Publius by her side. Who knew what would happen to any of them?
‘Mama?’ Publius’ reedy voice echoed through the dungeon. ‘Mama?’
‘I’m here, love.’ By now Aurelia’s eyes were so used to the gloom that she had no trouble walking to the moth-eaten blanket that served as their bedding. Elira was also there, asleep. ‘It’s all right, I’m here,’ Aurelia whispered.
She stooped to pick him up, savouring his small-child smell, his warmth. They reminded her of normality in this hellhole. Six other women shared the tiny space they had been thrown into after their arrival in Syracuse: skinny wretches in ragged clothing. Despite Aurelia’s attempts, none had spoken other than to say they’d been seized on a ship the previous week, and that they got fed once a day. Aurelia had no idea where Agesandros, the captain and the crew were. Poor Tempsanus was lying on the seabed, food for the fishes. And Lucius? Only the gods knew if he was still alive. Let Hanno find me, somehow, she prayed. The notion was crazy, but it was all Aurelia had.
‘I’m hung-y, Mama. I’m hung-y.’
‘I know, love, I know.’ Aurelia’s own stomach was rumbling. The blackness made it impossible to judge the time, but it had to be meal-time soon. ‘They’ll bring us something any moment, you’ll see.’
‘I want sau-sages.’
‘Maybe they’ll bring sausages. I don’t know, love. It might just be some bread, but that would be nice, wouldn’t
it?’
‘Bread! Bread! I want bread.’
‘Soon, my love, soon.’ Stroking his hair, Aurelia walked the eight steps to the cell’s back wall, turned and returned to the tiny grille that opened on to the corridor. No one was there. It had been the same since their arrival. Moans and cries from other cells haunted Aurelia as she paced to and fro. At last Publius fell asleep. Worried that his hunger would wake him, she didn’t stop until the muscles in her arms were screaming for a rest. Thankfully, he didn’t stir as she laid him on the blanket and covered him up. She stared down at him, almost able to hear her mother’s voice, reprimanding her. ‘Impetuous behaviour will get you nowhere, child.’ Aurelia rallied what was left of her courage. It was done now. She had decided to travel by sea to Rhegium, and all of them would have to live with the consequences. Remembering the misery of the slave market in Capua, which she had seen as a child, Aurelia prayed: At the very least, let me stay with Publius. Being separated would be worse than anything, even death.
Death. Is that what it would come to? she wondered numbly.
All the mental preparations in the world could not have equipped Aurelia for the following morning. Along with the cell’s other occupants, they had been escorted by soldiers to a courtyard. Perhaps a dozen more women arrived soon after. The entire group was ordered to strip naked by the same officer who had taken their ship. Quiet sobbing filled the air as the reason behind this sank in – they were being readied for sale – but the women had little choice.
Trying to reduce Publius’ distress, Aurelia pretended that it was nothing but a game. In reality, of course, it was unbelievably degrading. She had not been without clothes in public since she was a small child, and the soldiers’ comments and groping hands only added to her distress. Buckets of water were hauled up from the well, and they were ordered to wash themselves. Worse was to follow. Their feet were dusted with white chalk, to signify their status, and they were bound with rope at the wrists and neck. Gods, give me strength, thought Aurelia, avoiding all eye contact. This is inhuman. It was what Elira, and Hanno, had both gone through, and Agesandros. So too had the slaves that her family and Lucius owned. Her previous attempts to empathise with slaves had been utterly romanticised. Nothing could have prepared her for this.