Hannibal: Clouds of War by Ben Kane

the city walls, had been a welcome relief, but the screams of the pig, as it was sacrificed in honour of the goddess Ceres, had not. Nor had the falsely eulogistic words of the priest she’d hired for the occasion. In a daze, Aurelia had watched the placing of her mother’s body on the pyre that sat alongside the vault. Her grief had come bubbling up then and she’d been grateful for Tempsanus’ fleshy hand on her arm, and for his support when she’d had to step forward with the burning torch and set the timbers alight. It had been the right decision to leave Publius behind. The protest had been there in Elira’s eyes when Aurelia had ordered her to look after him, but she hadn’t argued. Regardless of what others might say about children attending funerals, thought Aurelia, seeing a human body burn was not something that a two-and-a-half-year-old should witness.
    Thank all the gods that the wind was blowing away from them. Despite that, the stench of burning human flesh hung in the air, trapped perhaps by the towering cypresses that stood around. Even when the pig had been butchered and set to cook on another fire, the normally welcoming smell of roasting pork had not helped. Nonetheless, she had eaten some of the meat. It was part of the ritual. Somehow, she had prevented herself from bringing it back up again, had accepted the condolences of the dozen or so mourners, who had mostly been aged relations. A number of hours had passed since then. Few people remained. Tempsanus, bless him, had stayed by her the entire time. She was grateful for that. He hadn’t tried to talk to her; his mere presence had helped. At last the smell from the pyre was waning. There would be little left now of her mother but bones and ash. Aurelia stirred; offered up a last prayer. The slaves would tend the fire until her mother’s remains could be removed and placed in a funerary urn. She could return the following day to oversee their interment in the plain tomb alongside. That would be difficult, she knew, but for the moment her ordeal was almost over.
    Or so she thought.
    Initially, she paid no attention to the clatter of hooves from the nearby road. The Via Appia was the busiest thoroughfare in the land; scores of horsemen had ridden past them that day. It was when a horse and rider cantered off the road, towards the pyre, that she felt the first stirrings of alarm in her belly. All eyes focused on the newcomer, a young man in a dusty tunic. He looked exhausted, but there was nothing wrong with his voice. ‘I seek Aurelia, wife of Lucius Vibius Melito,’ he called out. ‘I was told to seek her here, among the tombs.’
    The attention reverted to Aurelia. She took a deep breath and stepped forward. ‘I am she.’
    The rider dismounted and threw the reins to a slave. He approached Aurelia, delving into the leather satchel that hung from a cord over one shoulder. ‘I beg your pardon for disturbing you at this time, my lady.’
    She waved a hand in dismissal. The fashion of his arrival had driven all thoughts of her mother from her mind. ‘What is it?’ she asked, fighting real anxiety.
    ‘I bring news, from Rhegium.’
    Instead of the normal elation she would have felt at this news, Aurelia felt dread. What was going on?
    ‘Have you ought for me?’ Tempsanus interrupted. ‘I am Melito’s business partner.’
    Relief blossomed on the rider’s face. ‘Yes, sir. I have a note for you as well.’
    Aurelia advanced a couple of steps. ‘Could you not find our house – Melito’s house?’
    ‘I found it, mistress, but I was charged with delivering the note into your hands and no one else’s.’
    So the messenger had ridden past them, into the city, and back out again to where they stood now. From the corner of her eye, she could see Tempsanus frowning. Despite the pyre’s heat, cold sweat began running down Aurelia’s back. ‘Is everything all right? Is my husband well?’
    The messenger would not meet her gaze. Silently, he