Outside the city walls the Carthaginian army began drawing up in battle order, the men gathering in great blocks within which the men were all dressed and equipped similarly. These formations were called phalanxes, Rina had been told. The truce wagon rolled forward, accompanied by Fabius and the nobles, advancing beyond the lines. And now, Rina saw, a party of the Hatti came out to meet the Carthaginians. One man was mounted, and the rest walked under their own truce banner, of Jesus Sharruma with the crescent moon.

Rina was close enough to Fabius to hear one of his aides muttering advice to him. ‘The mounted man is Arnuwanda, their prince, chief of the armies, though it’s said it’s his aunt the Tawananna who makes the big decisions. The soldier at his side is Himuili, one of the smarter generals. The young priest – I don’t recognise him, I was expecting Angulli . . .’

‘Mother?’

She whirled. She had not heard that voice in months. ‘Nelo?’

It was him, her son, a soldier in his tunic and mail and helmet, standing beside the Roman. He was armed with nothing more lethal than a crayon and his sketch paper. For a heartbeat they stared at each other, both disbelieving. Then they broke and ran to each other, regardless of the rest of the world, the two foreign armies before and behind them.

‘I didn’t know you were here,’ he stammered out at last.

‘Nor I you. I spent an awful lot of money paying for news of your progress.’ She laughed, but it was as much a sob. ‘I tried to save you, to get you out of there. It was part of the deal – I thought Barmocar had cheated me—’

Nelo glanced at Fabius. ‘His man came for me. I refused to leave. I could not leave him, Mother. The general. This is history.’

Fabius heard all this. He growled, ‘There won’t be much more history for you if you aren’t back by my side this instant, boy.’

Rina clung to him. ‘Forgive me,’ she said frantically. ‘For what happened in the beginning – it was Barmocar, again. We could not have survived here in Carthage if I had not let the army take you. Forgive me!’

Nelo shrugged. ‘I thought it had to be something like that. It wasn’t your job to protect me, I was old enough. If you’d just asked, I’d have gone anyway, to save you and Alxa.’

‘Oh, Nelo—’

He broke away. ‘Later, Mother.’

There was no more time. For now, in the middle of the field, the enemy commanders met.

The Hatti prince dismounted. With the general and the young priest, and trailed by aides and wary soldiers, he walked boldly towards Fabius.

‘Roman,’ Arnuwanda said. ‘We meet again.’

Fabius bowed. ‘I am honoured to be in your presence again, sir, My Sun, whose integrity is known to all the world.’