Hannibal's Elephant Girl. Charley Brindley
Tin whispered to me, “Is Hannibal.”
“And the captain, too,” I said.
“Shall we set the slaves to work with the oars, sir?” the captain asked.
I eased up on my tiptoes to see Hannibal look out over the flat sea.
After a moment, he glanced up at the crescent moon. “It is well past midnight and near to dawn,” Hannibal said, turning back to the captain. “Let the slaves rest. If there is no wind with the sunrise, then we shall set them to work.”
The captain did not answer; only slapped a hand to his chest in confirmation of Hannibal’s order. Captain Xipan hurried back toward the companionway leading below decks.
“Captain.” Hannibal raised his voice.
The captain stopped, turning back to Hannibal.
“If the water boy is awake, send him to me.”
The captain saluted as before and continued toward the hatch.
I looked at Tin Tin Ban Sunia and saw the smile on her face. I rolled my eyes to the sky. Yes, we both knew who would next appear on deck.
Tin Tin, always the braver of the two of us, took my hand to lead me forward. Soon we knelt, only a few heartbeats away from Hannibal.
“Old man,” Hannibal said, “let me not find you tarrying about our ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your scepter of the god and your…”
We could see Hannibal clearly now, standing before his table in the moonlight. He wore his red tunic with the fine double stitching. Upon the table sat a small olive oil lamp illuminating a scroll, partially unrolled. He bent low, peered at the scroll for a moment, then straightened up to address his companion; it was Turanyu, his warhorse!
“…and your wrath shall profit you nothing. I will not free her.” Hannibal, with a flourish of his hand, spoke forcefully toward Turanyu, but the horse was obviously dozing, and, just as Obolus often did, he slept while standing.
Tin Tin giggled, then I did, too.
“Liada!” Hannibal said.
I stood up, still giggling, but also frightened.
“And Tin Tin Ban Sunia, too, I suppose.” He was apparently trying hard to display a feint of anger.
“It is myself,” Tin Tin said as she squeezed my hand.
I knew Hannibal could never be angry with Tin Tin, but me, yes, sometimes he was angry with me, and I had seen how he disciplined his men. I remembered quite clearly how he had humbled Sakul with his sword and javelin, and he had caused Sulobo to receive forty lashes across his back. This punishment Sulobo had always blamed on me.
“Come here,” Hannibal commanded.
I edged closer to Tin Tin as we walked slowly toward him.
“What are you doing?”
At this time, Hannibal was seventeen summers in age, but already a grown man in charge of the elephant training camp at Carthage, where he commanded several thousand men and oversaw the training of a hundred war elephants. Tin Tin was eleven summers, and I was twelve.
“We…we…” I looked down at my bare feet. “We heard voices.”
He glanced at Tin Tin.
“Hear talking noise in dark night.”
I looked at Tin Tin from the corner of my eye and saw her grinning.
Hannibal put his fists on his hips. “You girls had better go get some sleep before the sun comes up.”
Tin Tin slapped her right hand to her flat chest, and I followed suit. I thought Hannibal was about to smile, but he jerked his head to the side. We heard it, too—running footsteps. We saw the water boy coming quickly along the deck, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Lord Hannibal.” He paused to catch his breath. “You sent for me?”
Tin Tin tilted her head toward me. “Calogo,” she whispered, and I knew without looking she had that mooncalf expression on her face. I liked Calogo, too, but not the way she did.
Hannibal clasped his hands behind his back and eyed the boy for a moment, making him squirm. “How much water does the elephant drink each day?”
Calogo didn’t hesitate. “Twelve buckets, sometimes thirteen.”
Hannibal considered that. “And Turanyu?” He gestured to the sleeping horse.
The animal turned one ear toward his master but did not open his eyes. He was a magnificent black stallion, with a broad chest and powerful muscles.
“Not nearly so much. Perhaps three buckets a day.”
“Hmm. And what happens if we cut their water by half?”
I watched Calogo look toward Turanyu, then back at Hannibal. “They can give up half their water ration for four days, and they will suffer no harm since they do not have heavy exertion onboard the ship. After four days, they will begin…” Calogo paused for a quick look at me. “They will begin to weaken.”
“So be it,” Hannibal said. “Give them half-rations of water until I order otherwise. Without the wind, it will be two days and nights rowing to Hippo Regius, and you will have to give most of our water to the slaves.” Hannibal was quiet for a moment as he looked thoughtfully at me, then at Tin Tin.
I stole a glance at Calogo and saw the handsome blue-eyed boy grinning at Tin Tin.
Oh my Princess Elissa, another mooncalf! These two are going to get themselves into so much trouble.
“If you need help, Calogo.” I jumped when Hannibal spoke, because he had raised his voice. “Use these two ragamuffins,” he waved a hand in our direction, “to carry water to the slaves. I want not a single slave to expire for lack of water. Do you understand me?”
Calogo slapped his bare chest. “Yes, Lord Hannibal.” The boy wore a short tunic, made of tanned doeskin that extended to mid-thigh.
“Keep a close eye on them,” Hannibal said, and I saw him wink at Tin Tin. “They’re crafty laggards.”
Calogo looked from me to Tin Tin, his eyes lingering on her. He didn’t actually smile with his lips, but his eyes were certainly laughing. I think Calogo was about my age, maybe a little older.
“I know,” he said softly, but then caught himself and looked at Hannibal.“I mean, I know how to make them work, sir.”
“Good,” Hannibal said. “Now, go check your water casks and make your calculations for the next two days, assuming we have no wind and the slaves must row all the way to Hippo Regius.”
“Aye, Lord Hannibal.” Calogo hurried away to his tasks.
Hannibal wasn’t a lord, not in the sense that his father, the general, was, but he commanded respect and obedience without asking for it. Perhaps this was because his father was in a high position and in command of all Carthaginian forces, but I think it had more to do with his charismatic and beneficent personality. He was a man who could bend others to his will without the use of force.
I heard Tin Tin Ban Sunia make that funny little clicking sound with her tongue. She did that when she was lost in thought or about to say something. Hannibal and I turned to see her leaning her elbows on his table, squinting at the scroll.
“What story you tell Turanyu?” she asked without looking up.
Sometimes I was jealous of Tin Tin and the way she could engage Hannibal with so little effort. I loved her, of course. She was as near to a sister as I ever had, but how I envied her easy way with other people. Even before, when she couldn’t speak, she had a way of making anyone like her.
“We better go.” I looked from her to Hannibal.
“But this not our