CHAPTER V
INVASION
Sónnica feared that she had lost Actæon forever. His sudden departure seemed the caprice of a fickle Athenian—of an eternal wanderer, driven by the fever of seeing new lands. Only the gods could tell where that bird of passage might fly after his visit to Celtiberia! Perhaps he would remain with Alorcus; perhaps he would go to war along with those barbarians; perhaps, captivated by his knowledge and cleverness, they would go so far as to give him a kingdom.
Sónnica doubted that the Athenian would ever return. Her short springtime of love had been like the fugitive joy of the women adored by the gods when they had come down to earth. She who used to be so unfeeling as to mock at affection, now spent the days weeping on her couch, or wandering by night like a shade through the gardens, stopping in the grotto where the Greek had given her his first caress. The slaves wondered at the harsh and capricious temper of their mistress, who one moment groaned like a child, and the next, as if fired with sudden cruelty, ordered punishments for them all; but, without warning, Actæon presented himself before her villa one morning, riding a dusty, sweaty horse. He dismissed the ferocious featured barbarians who had served him as bodyguard, and ran with outstretched arms toward the tremulous Sónnica. The whole of her immense dominions seemed resuscitated; the mistress smiled; the garden bloomed more beautifully; on the terrace shone the plumage of the rare birds with greater splendor; the instruments of the flute players sounded more joyful, and to the slaves, freed now from punishment, the air seemed sweeter and the sky more blue.
Sónnica's villa reawoke to its merry life, as if its owner had risen from the dead. The nights were devoted to feasting in the great triclinium; Sónnica's friends, the young gallants, accepted her invitations, and even Euphobias, the philosopher, reached his place at the table without having to fight his way through the blows of her slaves.
Sónnica was radiant, clinging to Actæon and listening to his words as to sweet music. The guests urged him to relate the story of his adventures among the Celtiberians, wondering at the customs of the tribes over which Alorcus reigned. Euphobias, the parasite, did not conceal his satisfaction at possessing so powerful a friend, and he declared that he would go to his kingdom to live awhile in comfort, without having to beg his bread from the merchants of Saguntum. Love's springtime returned for the Athenian. He spent his days at the villa, lying at Sónnica's feet, watching her spin the bright colored wool from the distaff or give the finishing touches to her toilette, assisted by her slaves. At the close of day they strolled through the garden, and night surprised them in the grotto, in fond embrace, listening to the song of the water falling into the alabaster basin with sweet, monotonous melody.
Now and again Actæon went to the city in the morning to stroll through the porticos of the Forum listening to the newsmongers with the curiosity of a Greek accustomed to the grumblings in the Agora. He noticed extraordinary stir in the great Saguntine market-square. The idle talked of war; the more bellicose recounted with exaggeration their achievements on the last expedition against the Turdetani, and the tranquil merchants left their counters to ask for news, accepting with gestures of despair the possibility of a coming struggle. As Actæon came into Saguntum he saw on the wall hundreds of slaves repairing the merlons worn by time, and filled with cracks which many years of peace had opened in them.
Mopsus, the archer, put him in touch with the deliberations of the elders. Hannibal had sent an emissary with an ultimatum to return to the Turdetani the conquered territories and the booty taken during their last expedition. The African threatened with insufferable arrogance, and the Saguntine Republic had answered with scorn, refusing to listen to his commands. Saguntum would only obey its strong ally Rome, and, secure in her protection, she looked with indifference upon the threats of the Carthaginian. However, as war seemed inevitable, and as all stood in fear of the youth and audacious character of Hannibal, two senators had embarked some days before at the port of Saguntum, setting sail for the coasts of Italy to relate what had taken place, soliciting the protection of the Roman Senate.
This news circulated confusedly through the Forum, and the crowd jested at Hannibal as an impetuous youth who needed a lesson. He might come against Saguntum whenever he wished. These Carthaginians were the very same who had been driven out of Sicily, the same who had been compelled to abandon the coasts of Magna Grecia, being expelled by the Romans, who had then raised their own city beside the ruin! If they had achieved victories afterward in Iberia it was only against barbarian tribes ignorant of the art of warfare, who fell victims to their cunning! When they attacked Saguntum they would encounter a worthier enemy, and Rome, the powerful ally, would fall upon their rear and exterminate them!
These ideas infuriated the city.