Kassu leaned over his wife. Her head was bowed, and he saw the neat parting in her long dark hair, the tight bun at her neck. ‘You’ve been with him,’ he said softly.

She didn’t look up. ‘Have I?’

‘I know. I always know. I can see him on you. Smell him. Hear him in the songs you sing.’

‘Why don’t you stop us, if you still care? Oh, I forgot. You had your chance, and you weren’t man enough to take it.’

‘We fight in the morning.’

Now she looked up at him. ‘What?’

‘The Carthaginians are coming out. Our scouts have sent word.’

Uncertain, she bent her head and kept sewing. ‘I thought that general of theirs who has taken over the city, the Roman, has been refusing to give battle.’

‘Evidently he changed his mind. That’s Romans for you – probably why they always lose. Indecisive. So you see, my dear wife, this might be the last time we will be together this side of the grave.’

She looked up again. ‘Do you want—’

He laughed and pulled back. ‘I only have an hour. We’re to muster and advance on the city, to be ready before dawn. I’m to report to Himuili himself. So unless you can do something quick – has Palla taught you any more whore’s tricks?’

She put aside the cloak she had been mending. ‘I’ll help you prepare. Pimpira, food for the master, now.’

Kassu was deflated at her calm. She always had been the stronger one.

He began to pull together his kit.

So, before the dawn had fully broken, the Hatti army drew up on the desiccated plain, west of Carthage. Kassu reported to Himuili, his general.

And he was handed a horse. The beast was a nag, bony and limping slightly, but it was, undoubtedly, a horse. Somewhat to his surprise he found himself riding with Himuili and other senior commanders, even including Prince Arnuwanda himself, as they inspected their forces. In the often chaotic months since the siege had been laid Kassu had enjoyed a kind of promotion that wasn’t necessarily reflected in his rank. He seemed to be recognised as one of Himuili’s more literate and numerate junior officers, and was therefore useful in great feats of organisation, such as the running of the Hatti’s military camp-city, and now in drawing up the army in good order, ready for this climactic battle. So here was Kassu in the dawn light, passing before tens of thousands of men ready for battle, on a horse.

Himuili watched him, amused. ‘Comfortable, soldier?’

‘Yes, sir. Well, I can feel this nag’s bones through the saddle. I thought I’d come no closer to a horse again than a hoof boiling in a stock pot.’