​Charley Brindley

Hannibal and Roc dismounted to allow their horses to drink from a small steam.

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“Halt, you Celtiberian spies,” Imilce arched her bow. “You are now my prisoners.”

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Hannibal and Roc turned to stare at the girl and her companion. They were no more than thirteen summers in age.

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“Do you want an arrow through your heart?” She adjusted her aim.

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Hannibal stood and raised his hands. Roc grinned and did the same.

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“Imilce,” Filipe said, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

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“We’re taking them back to father. He knows how to make them confess their vile deeds.”

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Hannibal spoke several languages, but the girl’s words were new to him.

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“We only came to observe the wildlife,” he said in Tartessian.

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“What speech is that?” Imilce asked.

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In addition to Tartessian, Hannibal spoke Carthaginian, Latin, and trade Greek. Being a polyglot, he had a knack for languages.

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“We wish you no harm,” he said in Greek, the language he found to be the most universal.

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“Then why do you sneak through my woods like outlaws?” she asked in the same language.

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“I did not realized this forest belonged to anyone. It was not our intension to trespass. Are you queen of this region.”

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“I am not queen, not yet.”

 

“My name is ‘Hannibal’. May I ask yours?”

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“I am Imilce Adriana Lucia Argantino, the Oretana Princess. Perhaps you have heard of me.”

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“Ah, my Lady.” Hannibal bowed to her. “No, I have not heard of your name, but I am honored to meet you.”

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Roc, who understood Greek, although he didn’t speak it as well as Hannibal, also bowed to the princess.

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“If you will be so kind as to lower your weapon,” Hannibal said, “we would share our meager rations with you.”

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Imilce hesitated.

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“What did he say?” Filipe asked.

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“He wants me to lower my bow and share their rations.”

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“That’s a good idea. They’re probably just travelers. What are rations?”

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“Food,” she answered Filipe.

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“They want to give us food?”

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“Maybe.” She released the tension on her bow. “Where did you come from?” she asked in Greek.

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“Gadir, near the mouth of the Guadalquivir River.”

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“That is many days to the west,” Imilce said.

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“Yes,” Hannibal said. “We have had a long journey.”

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“You look like soldiers.”

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Hannibal glanced at Roc. “Yes,” Hannibal said, “we must be prepared to protect ourselves.”

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“You did not do very well.”

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“I agree. Your ambush was as good as any soldier could do, but I see you have only one arrow and there are two of us.”

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Imilce took the arrow from her bow. “Yes, only one and I do not even have an arrowhead for it.”

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“May I offer you a gift of my bow?” He took his bow and quiver of arrows from his saddle.

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“Really?” She took the bow from his outstretched hand. “It is beautiful, and so many arrows.”

 

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