with a thumb. “That’s Brenus right there hi Brenus, he has red hair like Livia but Livia’s is prettier except not now. Brenus is sitting next to Taog hi Taog but Taog can’t take me because he’s too big he’d tip the whole thing over.”
Octavius was glowing with anger, flailing the Celts with his eyes.
“Well,” said the king. “You are a remarkable young man. Tell me your name.”
“Hannibal my name is Hannibal. But my secret name is Hanno.”
King Deiotarus shielded his mouth, lowered his voice and said to Crassus, “You never miss an opportunity, do you?” Crassus' look of incomprehension held more impatience than query. “The grotesque’s name,” the king supplied. “Someone’s idea of a cruel joke?” Before Crassus could deny that he had anything to do with it, that it was, in fact, his wife’s generosity that had given the boy life and a home, Deiotarus had turned his attention back to Hanno, who was practically dancing on the floor before the king. “I am afraid, young Hannibal, though I would be happy to permit it, the decision does not rest with me.”
The king looked to Crassus, and Hanno followed his eyes. He saw dominus and me for the first time. “Father Jupiter! Master!” Off like an arrow he ran around the high table and into the unyielding grip of Octavius.
The legate lost control. “Concealing non-military personnel,” he shouted. “Amongst the legion? I could have you all executed for this!”
Crassus caught his host’s wry expression and knew he had no choice but to interject, “Easy, commander.” He held up a hand while he drank more water. “The blame here lies with me. It was I who invited the boy to come along. It slipped my mind to have him added to the roster.”
A very ugly scene was thus averted, or at least postponed. Octavius fairly brimmed with contradiction, but knew better than to voice it in this, of all places, or anywhere, until he had calmed down. Crassus motioned for him to release Hanno, who spilled immediately into dominus’ arms. A slender arm shot out in my direction, beckoning, but I dared not move. Crassus untangled himself, uncomfortable under the amused scrutiny of his host, and Hanno jumped up to spring into my arms. Would I be whipped or worse for returning his hug? I had a son whom I hoped to see again one day, and a wife standing not twenty feet before me. My hands had no choice but to remain fixed to my sides while Hanno pressed his forehead to my chest and locked his arms around me. The lie of my immobility was unbearable. It was matched only by the horror that he was here, now, with us, instead of safe at home.
Crassus commanded Livia to remove Hanno. She padded behind the dais, mumbling apologies until she stood before me. All the while she cooed to him and pried his arms free, I forced my sight to remain fixed on the front of the hall. Hanno was under no such constraint. He looked up at me as Livia pulled him away and said, “Master, come watch me tomorrow. If you’re feeling better.”
King Deiotarus turned in his seat to wonder at another member of the Crassus menagerie. Thankfully, there was no time for further interrogation, for dominus got to his feet. He made curt thanks, then made his excuses, cutting the evening short. A shame, really, for among the several diversions Deiotarus had prepared for us were trained, performing dogs, which I very much would liked to have witnessed, but dominus waved me ahead to wait at the three steps at the end of the platform. In case a shoulder were required to steady him.
Just as Crassus reached the end of the high table, King Deiotarus said, “Father Jupiter, eh? That’s one even Pompeius Magnus has not discovered.”
“Do you not worry, your highness,” Crassus answered, knocking my arm aside as I was trying to pin his cloak with its fibula, “that you have left the construction of this mighty fortress to the twelfth hour? It would be a shame for you to miss its completion.” The chatter in the hall fell as fast as a traitor thrown from the Tarpeian Rock. My master, as fine a diplomat as had ever been bred by his city, had uttered an inexcusable insult to his host, under the man’s own roof. My hands hovered in mid-air. It was an affront that made no sense, for King Deiotarus looked little