Sirens at the Gate
The former Greek city of Saguntum
Spring 218BCE
Two things raised the company’s spirits as they proceeded into the city. First, the macabre decor of the front gate extended no further than the front gate; a display of victory for those travellers well intentioned towards the conquerors, and a firm warning to all others. Barely a street on, and the horrors of battle dimmed down to the off splatter on a doorframe, and the dark, dry trails running down the inclined streets.
Secondly, it transpired that there was a place to get a drink, and it was packed. Despite this, Salicar managed to spirit away several jars of wine whilst Sonata lifted a few drinking bowls, and they took their place on a nearby overhang, soon settling into pleasant conversation about how Adagio, Aria, and Sonata were magical immortals, and what exploits they’d engaged in over their already long lives.
“It be dust!” he exclaimed, sweeping his arm dismissively. “The Alexander? As in name-a-city-on-every-continent-after-myself Alexander?”
Aria nodded, grinning. Even Adagio couldn’t keep a smile from her lips.
“It’s not as extraordinary as you’re making it out to be,” Adagio assured him in suave, patrician tones. “We all had a go.”
“Except Sonata,” Aria added. Sonata smiled placidly in response, offering a small shrug as she downed the remnants of her bowl.
“You’re trying to convince me that you slept with Alexander of Macedon. Conqueror. Scourge of the Achaemenids. Creator of the largest empire ever formed.” He snorted. “You can’t expect me to take you seriously.”
Aria shrugged. “I slept with him three times.”
“Honestly,” Adagio said, smirking, “You’d have been harder pressed to find a woman he hadn’t slept with.”
“Or a man,” Sonata put in helpfully.
“Alright,” Salicar said, setting his bowl down and trying, despite his partial intoxication, to look serious. “I’ve got a question then.”
“How big was he?” Adagio asked in mock exasperation.
“How good was he?” Aria added in the same tone.
“Did he drink a lot?” Sonata guessed.
Salicar seemed to consider. “Yeah, all those things,” he said, not remotely abashed.
“He was about average,” Adagio summarised.
“He drank way too much,” Sonata put in.
“And it didn’t do him any favours under the sheets,” Aria concluded in a voice of flat certainty. “Although he was enthusiastic.”
They all let out a series of raucous laughter.
“Thought he was the gods’ gift to women, that one,” Adagio coughed, wiping her eyes. “I suppose he deserved to be, but he was really quite full of himself.”
“He treated relationships like he treated territory,” Aria intoned, smirking. “He could get into anywhere, and conquer it easy. But he wouldn’t stay there; there was always something finer just over the horizon.”
“Didn’t he go after Sonata after he was done with you?” Adagio asked innocently.
“Yeah,” Aria replied lightly. “But he came to me after he got bored with you.”
“Which raises another question,” Salicar said, turning to Sonata. “Why didn’t you sleep with him?”
Sonata smiled. “He wasn’t my type,” she answered succinctly.
They all laughed again, during which time Salicar pulled Aria into a one-armed hug that looked suspiciously like a headlock. As the laughter wound down yet again, Adagio noticed Sonata off to one side. For reasons known only to herself, she was leaning on one elbow and peering off the edge of the overhang, although all Adagio could see were people and soldiers walking through the streets. What could be catching her intertest so Adagio had no clue.
“Huh?” Sonata blurted in response to Adagio’s asking what she was looking at. “Oh, nothing I guess,” she said distractedly.
Mentally shrugging at Sonata’s vagueness, she turned back to the conversation, only to see the Captain approach from the opposite direction, his distinctive white-plumes of his helmet tapering behind him, and his deep purple body bulging with fresh tension. Urging his horse to a halt, his eyes found Adagio.
“The general wishes to see you,” he said without preamble. “Come with me.”
Adagio set down her bowl of wine. “Just me?” she asked.
“For now,” the Captain answered. “Come.”
Built on uneven ground, the city’s interior rose the further back one went, leading to the remnants of the city’s last stand. Here too bore scars of the recent battle, and seemed to be where most of the smoke was rising. Up a wide set of stairs leading to what looked like a temple, dark stains running down the yellowish stone, the Captain dismounted outside of a side-building, and gestured Adagio forward passed the single sentry standing at sudden attention by the entrance.
The building’s interior was a little cramped, but in a way that stressed the severity of the aesthetic, the practicality of the space used. She took some pleasure in knowing that wealthy Carthaginians in general preferred the grandiosity of wide spaces and open work environments. The decoration seemed untouched by the battle, but a little sparse in furnishings.
The General, or whom Adagio supposed was he, sat at a desk reading over what looked like a pile of missives. He looked up at the Captain’s entrance, and then his eyes flickered to Adagio. She couldn’t help but notice the mingled look of puzzlement and irritation he was directing at both of them.
“Captain,” he said warily in greeting. “The army is still recovering from its winter positions. You have news?”
The Captain raised a fist in salute. “Yes, my lord. I have brought a potential weapon to bear against Rome. In keeping with the imperative your lord brother has laid out for us during our recruiting.”
The General paused for a few moments, his eyes still occasionally moving to Adagio.
“You can’t be too confident in this idea of yours,” he said finally. “If you have to bribe me.”
Adagio had to fight to keep herself from sneering, as she had taken the meaning immediately. The Captain took a second or two longer to get it.
“Oh, no, my lord. She is one of the weapons I speak of.”
The General looked, if anything, even more sceptical, and was starting to look angry.
“In the interests of finding decisive advantages,” the Captain went on hastily, I heard tell of a group of magickers on the coast who used supernatural means to hunt large game. Beasts that the bravest men wouldn’t dare to track alone.”
The General hesitated, and then put down the missive he was still holding, and gestured at Adagio. “Turn around.”
Adagio did so, raising her arms slightly and curving her mouth into a slightly knowing smile. Despite this the General showed no sign that he was the least bit interested in her subtle insinuations.
That’s not good, Adagio thought. She had been hoping to at the very least be able to manipulate his soft male mind. Apparently this general was able to keep his mind firmly on task. At least this wasn’t Hannibal himself, if she was interpreting the Captain’s words correctly.
“You’ve wasted enough of my time with this,” the General said, gesturing dismissively.
The Captain stammered. “But, my lord, surely there’s—“
“Tell me, Captain,” the General interrupted. “What would you have me do with her?”
“I agree,” Adagio intoned, treating the Captain to a gimlet stare. “I’m simply a girl. I’m unable to understand why your fine officer, who seems a sensible fellow otherwise, took such rumours so seriously.”
The General gave his head a slight jerk, his eyes still glimmering with doubt between her and the Captain. “My brother’s orders were vague, I’ll grant.”
“So with that settled, I think I’ll just be going home, now,” Adagio said, straining a small amount of sycophantic deference to cover her relief. “Good day, my lord. Fair fortune with the war, I’ll just see myself out.”
The General raised supercilious eyebrows, but made neither movement or word to prevent her. The Captain on the other hand reached out and seized her forearm as she turned swiftly for the door.
“Impudent witch!” he snarled.
“Let go of me,” Adagio growled from between her teeth.
“You’ll tell the General the truth,” the Captain insisted, tugging her back towards the desk.
“Captain,” the General said, warningly.
“General, I will not be named a liar by this creature!” the Captain barked, clutching Adagio’s arm harder. With a sharp tug he yanked her towards him.
Filled with anger, feeling the skin tingle where he touched, Adagio felt her restraint slip, but it was too late to stop it. Reflexively, her free hand shot out, and took hold of the Captain’s wrist. A sickening crack followed by the Captain’s startled and pained yelp, and what Adagio had intended to be a moderate shove just to get him off her. Instead, the Captain went crashing backwards, collided with a chair and collapsed upside down in a heap against the wall.
Adagio’s mouth slipped open as she stared at her handiwork. It had all happened so fast. She spent so many years keeping her preternatural strength in check, and now in the most crucial moment...
Furtively, not daring to breath, she looked towards the General. Disconcertingly, he hadn’t reacted the way Adagio would have expected. He was still seated, sitting straighter and with a tenser expression than before, but not exactly panicked looking. Tense as she herself was, her senses automatically sharpened into hunter mode. In the confined space of the smallish office, she could faintly hear the deep beats of his heart. Her predator’s instinct detected the increased palpitations of a being either excited, angry, or afraid.
He looked at the Captain, supine on the floor, and then gave Adagio a penetrating look. She herself felt an immediate need to run, but fought it down; it wasn’t like she would escape the city should he raise the alarm. On cue the sentry from outside burst into the room, levelling his spear at Adagio in uncertainty as he detected no obvious threat in the room.
“Halt!” the General snapped, still looking at Adagio. He stood up. “Perhaps I do have a use for you,” he said slowly, his eyes becoming distant. “How’s your latin?”
Road to Tarraco, south of the Pyrenees
“I cannot believe this.”
“Shut up.”
“No, seriously, I’m thinking about it, and it’s actually happening, but I really can’t believe it.”
Adagio stopped, and turned to shoot Aria a gimlet stare. Sonata had long since managed to cope with these such confrontations by imagining amusing scenes going on around her, but this glare was so searing in its intensity, that all Sonata could imagine was wilting plants, reddening skies, and cute, furry animals bursting into flame.
“The Flutterpocalypse,” she muttered fearfully, although the other two didn’t hear.
“Tanit’s tits, will you just give it a rest!” Adagio snapped. “You’ve not stopped complaining about it since we left.”
Aria shot Sonata a meaningful look before returning Adagio’s burning stare.
“Can you blame me?” she demanded. “I mean, dust in life, why did you agree for us to do this? Why don’t we just slip away?”
Adagio lowered her gaze. “If it was just that captain, we probably could,” she said through gritted teeth. “But the general is from some powerful family. They basically rule here on Carthage’s behalf. I doubt we’d be able to stay anywhere Carthage has influence if we cross them.”
“Then why don’t we go to live with the Romans?” Sonata put in helpfully. “They couldn’t get us there.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Aria mumbled, biting a finger. “We’ve been on the run before, and that got boring real fast.”
“Exactly. And if this war between the two goes to Carthage, then we have nowhere to go,” Adagio said firmly. “So we do this job, give him what he wants, and ideally we then leave and go home.”
Aria scowled and folded her arms tightly. “Yeah, that ain’t happening. We’re well and truly stuck now that he thinks we’re useful. Speaking of which, what exactly are we supposed to be doing? Find the Roman army marching down the coast towards us?”
“Well the Carthaginians burned down a friend of Rome,” Adagio pointed out, the tension in her face easing out as her usual smooth confidence returned. “Go figure, now that the winter is done and the war season’s up again, the Romans are sending an army to get their own back. Our dear general would like to know which of Rome’s mighty champions has taken up the call.”
“I hate this already,” Aria said flatly. “He expects us to infiltrate Roman territory and find out who’s in charge?”
“I doubt we need to go that far,” Adagio said smoothly.
“Couldn’t we just ask someone we meet?” Sonata asked, fiddling with a few strands of her long blue hair.
“Oh, right,” Aria scoffed. “We just ask any old Roman we find?”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Adagio said in little more than a whisper.
Aria gaped, whilst Sonata looked rather pleased with herself. Then her smile dimmed, as puzzlement sank her brow into a frown.
“But, we’re not in Roman territory,” she said slowly. “We’re not even passed the northern mountains.”
“Indeed,” Adagio replied easily. “But you’re forgetting: there’s been a battle involving a Roman ally, and a Roman army is on the way.”
Aria’s scowl vanished as realisation hit her. “Ah,” she said. “So that’s why we’re not travelling along the actual road.”
She looked to her right, where the wide length of the simple stone road ran between the two stretches of divided forest. Sonata spoke to it.
“But why would they use the main road?” she asked. “Won’t that make them easy to see?”
“Once they get closer, I dare say they’ll go off road,” Adagio agreed. “But for the main leg of the journey, they probably don’t know the terrain, so they have to use roads.”
As it transpired, Adagio was quite correct. After two hours of walking, and much complaining on the part of Sonata for how hungry she was, they heard the sound of hooves in the distance.
“Now remember,” Adagio said in a hasty whisper. “Only speak Greek. Got it?”
“Um...” Sonata began, putting up a tentative finger.
“It doesn’t matter which dialect, Sonata,” Adagio said patiently, “I don’t want you to say anything anyway.”
Sonata smiled in relief, and then frowned. “Hey, wait a minute—“
She was interrupted from protesting more as Adagio smacked her with a handful of dry red soil. As she rubbed some into the struggling girl’s cheek, Aria tossed herself casually into the dirt too, coming up as though she’d been through a rough tumble.
“There,” Adagio said, grinning wickedly as she messed up Sonata’s hair. Aria obligingly let her own hair down and swung it into a half-mess. “Now remember, we’re local Greeks from north of Saguntum, and we’re scared of Carthaginians. Try to act pathetic and scared, and however else people are supposed to react to their countrymen being massacred.”
Sonata replied with a somewhat bone-crushing hug. Adagio looked down at herself as the other pulled away, noticing the red streaks down her own clothes.
“Thanks, Sonata,” Adagio said dryly as Sonata grinned innocently.
“They’re here!” Aria hissed urgently. “Quick!”
Emerging from the trees at an angle so as to appear that they had been using the road, they saw ahead of them three figures on horseback.
Perfect. Adagio thought.
As the riders came closer, Adagio put up a desperate hand and called to them, trying to put as much mixed relief and latent horror into her voice as possible.
The lead rider, a middle-aged man in the red and bronze colourings of a roman soldier urged his horse to a slow trot, and then to a halt. His maroon body colour added to the sense of gravity he exuded, indicating to Adagio that he was probably an officer. That wasn’t so good; she’d heard of the fierce loyalty of the Roman officer corps., since they’re political careers hinged so heavily upon it.
“You, girls,” the officer said. “Are you Roman? Speak.”
“We are Greeks, sir,” Adagio said breathlessly. “We live in these parts.”
The officer narrowed his eyes. “Your accent. ‘Tis not one I have heard.”
Adagio swallowed. The three riders were glaring at her, the younger one to the left looking... amused? Intrigued? It was hard to say. There was something hungry in his expression.
“Unsurprising,” Adagio said. “Our father was Greek, and took us and our mother to Iberia when we were young.”
“Ah,” the officer said, comprehending. His suspicion seemed to abate somewhat. “Greetings to you. I am Gneaus Lurius. I am the Roman representative to Massalia, and we are reconnoitring this passage for Rome, Perhaps you could answer a few questions I should like to put to you.”
“Could we do so somewhere more secluded?” Adagio asked, glancing over her shoulder.
The younger looking rider stifled a snort.
“It won’t take a moment,” the officer said, a slight stiffness coming to his voice.
Adagio tried to stop her mouth from tightening, and willed Aria and Sonata to remain calm. “If we could go just a little into the trees. There’ve been riders up and down the road in these parts. We think the Carthaginians send their Numidians to patrol.”
“If any such men come,” the officer said, “we shall defend you.”
“If I might say so, sir,” the younger rider began, urging his horse forward a step. “Perhaps these girls need a moment to rest. We could provide some assistance there, I think.”
The words were spoken quite respectfully, but he never took his eyes off of Adagio’s face. And suddenly, the meaning in the look he was giving her became plain to see, and Adagio’s ire spiked.
“We need no such help,” Adagio replied, her calm tone edged with contempt.
The young rider’s hungry look turned to one of indignant anger. “Who do you think you’re addressing, girl?”
“Silence, Lucanus,” the officer barked.
“You’re lucky there are men like us to keep you safe,” the rider went on.
“I said enough!”
The rider bit his tongue, although it looked hard.
“Now,” the officer continued. “Are you going to answer my questions? If it has to come to persuasion, then it will.”
As though in response to this, the other two riders made small adjustments, their weapons more visible.
Adagio kept his penetrating glare for a few moments, but much like trying to keep in a laugh, she felt the build of tension, and she blinked first. She allowed the look of barely suppressed panic to melt off her face.
“I suppose there’s no recourse,” she sighed, glancing back at Aria and Sonata.
“What the hell are you!?”
What a predictable question. Adagio was glad that animals couldn’t speak, or she’d probably get that question daily.
The young rider lay prone on his back, Adagio straddling him just so she could be sure she had his undivided attention. Being able to see the corpse of his commander might have proven distracting.
“You are going to tell me a few things... what was your name?” she asked casually, running a finger along his breastplate and landing it on his nose. “Lucanus, wasn’t it? Well, Luc, if you don’t answer, well...” She looked to his right.
“The arm or the leg?” Aria asked, seated next to the other man that she and Sonata had subdued in a kneeling position.
Adagio made a show of considering whilst keeping her own prisoner speared on her gaze. “Mmm... the arm I think. What do you think?”
The soldier she was sitting on looked frantically between her and his colleague. “I can’t give you military information,” he said through his teeth, making a brave effort to sound authoritative. “I won’t.”
Adagio raised her eyebrows, her eyes hard. “You know your commander over there?” she asked, pointing over her shoulder. “I liked him. I don’t like you. So if I’m okay with throwing him headfirst into the ground and snapping his neck like a tree branch, what do you think I’m willing to do to you? You can, and you will tell me what I want to know,” Adagio continued in a bored tone of voice. “Or else Aria is going to rip your friend’s arm from its socket. And when he’s out of limbs to pull off, I’ll start with yours, and leave a hangnail from your armpit all the way to your ankle.” She gave him a dark look mixed with just the right amount of cruel and delicious promise that brooked no alternative. “And it’d be such a shame to see this handsome face of yours contorted into one of twisted pain.”
The soldier hesitated for a long moment. Shrugging, Adagio gestured, and Aria obliged.
“No, no, wait!” he blurted as the other soldier began screaming in mounting agony.
Adagio gestured again, and Aria let the arm back down again, albeit with a distinct appearance of regret at not even getting to dislocate anything.
“Fine, what do you want to know?”
“Simple, really,” Adagio said equably. “First, the name of the commander.”
“Cornelius Scipio,” the soldier said quickly. “Publius Cornelius Scipio.”
“Just one commander?” Adagio asked. That didn’t jive with what the General had said to expect.
The soldier’s lips thinned. He breathed heavily for a few moments. “His brother too, another Scipio.”
“And how many make up their army?” Adagio inquired sweetly.
The soldier hesitated again.
“Sonata,” Adagio drawled impatiently. “Do the eye thing.”
“I don’t think that’ll help,” Sonata said, looking puzzled.
“She doesn’t mean your cutesy crap,” Aria grumbled.
“Oh!” Sonata cried, snapping her fingers. “That eye thing!” She let out an excitable squeal and clapped her hands together eagerly. “I’ve never tried it human eyes before.”
Aria coughed.
“Okay, that one time. They were delicious though.”
“Last count was thirty thousand!” the soldier cried as Sonata’s fingers waved before his comrade’s eyes.
“Last count?” Adagio asked with mock delicacy.
“T-There might be more coming!” the other soldier stammered, trying to pull his head away as Sonata kept her slender digits an inch from his face. “Please, please don’t!”
“Sonata,” Adagio said nonchalantly.
“Aww,” Sonata grumbled.
“How many?”
“We don’t know!” Lucanus said quickly. “Just that there are reinforcements on their way.”
“Fine, whatever,” Adagio sniffed. “Last thing: what route are they taking?”
Lucanus scowled. “By sea, obviously. Passed the Massalians. The Greeks there are friends of Rome. Even the Carthaginians know that.”
“Just checking,” Adagio said, smiling. “Okay, Sonata. Do the thing.”
“You sure this time?” Sonata asked grumpily.
Adagio threw her a dark look. “Yes. Don’t give me that—“
Aria pointed, looking alarmed. “Hey, watch—!”
WHAM!
Adagio crashed heavily to the dirt, a spike of pain shooting through the side of her head. She cursed loudly, clutching at her throbbing skull as her sight warped and blinded her with a light that wasn’t there. When she felt her senses come back to her, the first thing she saw was the helmet on the ground, a bright red stain at one corner. She brought her hand down from her hair to find the palm smeared with blood.
Cursing with rage and pain she stood up, the world seeming to tilt and shift as the dizziness hit her. Nevertheless she watched, powerless to act as Lucanus mounted the closest horse, charged Aria and Sonata, and pulled his companion up behind him.
“Let them go,” she grunted as Aria made to dash after them. “You’ll never catch them whilst their on horseback.”
Aria scowled after them, but then smoothly transformed her fury into malicious glee. “Oh well. The look on your face almost makes it worth it. Maybe if you weren’t so busy making goo-goo eyes at him.”
“I really wanted that eye,” Sonata sulked, brushing herself off and folding her arms moodily.
“Both of you, just... just shut up,” Adagio breathed, putting a hand to her head. “No, shut it!”
Aria closed her mouth, but there was little Adagio could do about the smirk. The image of Lucanus’ terrified expression was emblazoned on the inside of Adagio’s mind, and if it took another lifetime, she swore that she’d see that exact same expression on his face again. And she would make sure that it was the very last expression that crossed his handsome and contemptible face.
Returning to Saguntum a day later, and reporting what she’d discovered to the General,
“Excellent,” the General said. “Perhaps my brother’s ideas will provide us with a windfall, then.”
Adagio had time to allow her injury to fester within her, and fester it did. Not just upon her wounded pride.
“You’re going to have to see a healer for this,” Salicar said ruefully, gingerly poking the darkened and bloodied patch of Adagio’s cranium through her thick hair. “I honestly don’t know how you got back here with an injury like this.”
“Pure stubbornness,” Aria snickered.
“You should be able to survive a similar injury, no problem then,” Adagio snarled, aiming a misjudged strike at Aria’s head.
“Seriously, you should at least get a poultice or something for it,” Salicar said. “At least you didn’t get a concussion from the hit or you’d probably already be dead.”
Fuming, angry at herself and at the soldier Lucanus, she made her way to the military headquarters in the rear of the city, where for the most part Iberian levied soldiers milled around with injuries for the Carthaginian healers to look at. Hoping she could just grab something that she could apply herself instead of letting some fatuous yokel doctor tell her about all the demons and bad spirits that were intruding on her daily life, she dawdled the way there, trying to take her mind off how much her head hurt.
Then she saw something that... gave her pause.
The triage deployment rested under a series of tarpaulins stretching around a large square, from whence many smaller paths and a larger thoroughfare ran. The resting, sick, and dying lay or sat under the shade of the cover, but in a far corner near to where one of the smaller pedestrian paths led off into the shadows of the drabber buildings, was a kneeling figure.
It was impossible to mistake the hair, the light blue skin, and the bright pink of the eyes even from this distance. As Adagio continued to walk further into the square, she began to see the short figures that Sonata seemed to be looking at. They were all completely still, and had no expression in their postures. In the shadows of the buildings in the apricot evening light, they appeared as shadowy premonitions, ill omens made real and cast into vague and insubstantial forms.
All that talk of witchcraft must have gotten to me, Adagio thought as she continued on. Looking away for a few moments, she was relieved to find that the figures had disappeared, and that Sonata was standing up, an odd expression on her face. Adagio paused momentarily under the shade of one of the triage areas as she watched Sonata leaving. If she hadn’t been talking to living shadows, then the question was: what was she really doing?
Brainlessly carefree as Sonata usually was, there were times when this cheerfulness was not present, and this sometimes happened when Sonata was acting... strangely. What Aria referred to as Sonata’s “episodes”.
Adagio’s lip curled at the mere thought.
- To be Continued