The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the estate. In the stables, Hannibal toiled, and he winced as his hands that were once calloused began to bleed. He stopped shoveling the manure and looked at the palms of his hands that were leaving bloody marks on the wood of the shovel.
He picked at the blisters that had formed and popped and gave a sigh. Had it really been so long since he had done any sort of manual labor that his hands had softened. He supposed that living life as the king's honored quest and the prince's favorite had its benefits and disadvantages.
The air was heavy with the pungent scent of manure and hay, making every breath a struggle. Sweat had drenched his shirt, and he used the back of his arm to wipe away what had gathered on his forehead before shoveling again. He didn't need Raçoso to find him lazing about and yell at him again. He might not have needed to be threatened with a whip to work, but he absolutely didn't want to find himself under its lashing if he could avoid it.
The horses watched him with curious eyes, their powerful forms constrained by the confines of their stalls. They seemed to sense his resignation, his acceptance of his lot in life. They had known no other existence, no other reality. To them, he was just another part of the scenery, as much a piece to their needs as he was to his master's.
When the final rays of sunlight were beginning to dissolve and torches had been light to see by, Hannibal stood at the far end of the stables, looking over his hard work. They were clean for what looked like the first time in months from everything Hannibal had been doing the last few days.
The stables were swept and shoveled, the horses fed and watered. The next few days he would spend cleaning the horses now that he had the space to do it. Washing and grooming, then maybe shoeing them as well. With how many there were he supposed that it would be at least a couple more days before some new tasks found him. Luckily, he had always taken care of his own horses, so he knew how to accomplish those undertakings without someone needing to breathe down his neck.
Hannibal stood for a moment, watching the sunset. The land was flat and went as far as the eyes could see and beyond what he could see he knew the ocean waited for him. It lapped at the beaches, beckoning for him. He had been arguing with himself over if he could brave the ocean again, but it was the fastest way back home.
He put away his tool and looked back at his hands as he wandered his way back towards the slaves' quarters that were at the edge of the estate, just inside the property, but far enough away that they couldn't be seen from the main house. It was a godsend. Guards might have been positioned outside and rotations set all night so that they were ready for if any of the slaves had a bright idea of escape. But the rotations could provide him with the proper time for such a bright idea.
He mentally noted every detail he could. Rotations, which guards they were, what they looked like, how often Raçoso left him alone to work. Everything followed the beat of a clock, ticked away, greased, and oiled.
Hannibal washed up the best he could in the pond he passed, making quick work of it to not be caught and punished. With the sweat and dirt removed from his skin and feeling slightly cleaner, he finally found the quarters.
Inside the large building that many of them shared, the fire light shone brightly through the windows. Hannibal was greeted with warm chatter and light music being played from the corner where Nicholas enjoyed holing up and serenade the dozen or so of them.
Hannibal was greeted with warm smiles and beckoned to sit at the large wooden table that lined the middle of the room. He was passed a cup of golden beer and some hard bread and smoked pork.
It wasn't much and would leave him still hungry, but it was better than nothing and he would rather have the small amount to sustain him than go without provisions again. That had been a bleak few weeks he had had to keep his soldier's morale up while they starved, waiting for the king to send them what they needed, the winter harsher than any of them had prepared for.
"It's just a rumor," Ceceilia stated, waving her hand to dismiss whatever the comment beforehand had been that Hannibal had not heard. Though something in her voice struck Hannibal as worry. It was more than a rumor then.
"I work in the main house," Lewis argued, clearly irritated by not being taken seriously. "I heard the master speaking about it when serving him breakfast this morning."
"Why would he want to sail to the Americas?" Ceceilia shot back. "There's nothing worth anything there."
"Land," Lewis explained. "And not just the Americas. He will be selling some of us off to the Barbary Coast to make sure he has the funds."
"Why would he not have the funds to reach the Americas?" Tandey questioned as he ripped apart his piece of bread and stuffed some of it into his mouth. In the small conversations Hannibal had been part of, the rowdy teen had proven to get out of line more often than not and it often led to the boy being handled roughly and swiftly and if these rumors were the truth, Hannibal suspected he would be the first one sent to the Barbary Coast, as sad as it was to think. "He sits all day up in that big-"
"He's in debt," Lewis said matter of factly. Everything in the room fell silent, even Nicholas' flute. "Everyone knows he gambles every night. He's lost every cent of it!"
"He's trying to outrun the collectors." Cecilia's words were no louder than a whisper that everyone could hear with how silent it had become.
Hannibal paused in tearing apart his bread and looked among the small group that had welcomed him in as their own. They all wore varying expressions of discomfort and worry. They had become their own little family unit and Hannibal understood just how heartbreaking being torn apart could be when the time came for such a departure.
They would each be sold off, save for a very few of them who would go to the Americas with the marquess. It was a rather ingenious plan if Hannibal had any say to it. The marquess could outrun his debtors and have free range of all the land he was willing to fight for against the natives. He could start new, and money would have no meaning there. The prospects were far better there than here if his fortunes caught up with him.
It also proved favorable for Hannibal. If things around them were beginning to fall apart, then hopefully attention would be placed elsewhere, and his escape could come faster than he had first projected. If things were as bad as they sounded, then Hannibal would act now.
"You," Raçoso's gruff voice called, causing Hannibal to pause in his work and glance towards the door to the stable before his hand continued grooming the light coat of the mare in front of him.
"Yes, sir?" Hannibal questioned, straightening up just slightly to be better seen and prove he wasn't trying to provoke.
"You're needed to go into town." Raçoso's expression held annoyance in it as if this was a job that Hannibal should delight in and did not deserve the luxury of. "You know the city, don't you?"
"Yes, sir." Hannibal let the words leave his mouth slowly as he stepped around the mare and tipped his head to the side. He wasn't entirely sure how anyone could have known that about him unless someone had seen him speak to Miguel while they had dragged him through the town center last week. "What needs to be done?"
"The shopping."
"Shopping?" Hannibal set aside the brush in his hand and reached into a large barrel of water to clean his hands. "I was under the impression that I-"
"Main bloke is sick and the master needs someone who knows the town and people to haggle for the prices. Now hurry the fuck up! We haven't got all day," Raçoso barked, waving Hannibal to quicken his pace. "They're waiting for you outside of the manor. Do not keep them waiting."
Hannibal wasn't going to argue. He jogged past the burly man, tossing him a last look over his shoulder before he raced for the main house. The heat from the sun warmed the back of his neck in a familiar way and Hannibal couldn't help but feel grateful that this time around he wasn't lugging metal armor around with him too, trapped inside of an oven of his own making.
The home rose majestically before him, its facade a masterpiece with ornate carvings and delicate stonework that spoke of a bygone era of artistic brilliance that apparently could no longer be kept. It wouldn't show the neglect now, but Hannibal couldn't deny he was curious to see how the palace would return to nature in the coming years as it became abandoned.
Hannibal's pleasant surprise at finding Fernando waiting for him brought a smile to his lips when the green eyes caught his. Fernado's face lit up too.
"I didn't think I would be seeing you again," Fernando remarked with a deep laugh. "You don't look too badly beaten up. How have you been?"
"Normal day, if I'm honest." Hannibal took a deep breath, allowing his heart the chance to rest after his long run. His hands rested on his hips as he took in the height of the house, having not been given the proper time to respect its majesty when he had arrived at nightfall and not stepped a foot towards it since. "Don't tell the marquess, but Raçoso is like an alaunt. He barks louder than he bites and is a big softy if you give him food."
Fernando let out a breath of laughter with a roll of his eyes. "Shall we be on our way?" he asked, motioning towards the cobbled driveway meandered through manicured gardens bursting with vibrant blooms and olive trees, with gnarled trunks. Hannibal nodded and scooped up the extra baskets for whatever they were going into town to gather.
The two of them started down the path, chatting idly until they approached the captivating and sprawling towering gates, adorned with intricate ironwork that Hannibal had also not been able to make out in the darkness of his first night here. He halted for a moment to gaze at them before rushing past several guards and after Fernando who hadn't slowed.
"It's going to be a shame for all of this to go empty," Hannibal prodded gently once they were out of earshot of the entire estate. He didn't meet Fernando's eyes, but he could feel the way they burrowed into his own face, looking for an explanation for what had just been uttered.
"What makes you say that?" Fernando pushed; voice laced with hesitancy.
Hannibal shrugged, brushing some of his blonde hair from his eyes. "There's just been whispers around that there are some issues when it comes to the books of the estate. But I'm positive that they're merely whispers. After all, why would the marquess spend a full purse of gold on me if he was struggling financially?"
Hannibal must have hit a nerve of some sort because he watched as Fernando's jaw tightened just slightly and the man found something rather interesting about a rock on the path, kicking it along. The silence stretched on for several more paces before Fernando finally snapped, meeting Hannibal's curious gaze.
"He's flat out broke." It was blurted so loudly that a startled bird in a tree beside them cawed and flew away. Fernando's eyes widened in shock, and he returned to kicking the stone. It clinked away down the path, and they followed after it.
"He's broke?" Hannibal feigned his surprise as he continued to push the conversation. "He flaunted his money the whole time he was at the auction. He can't be broke."
"He is in utter ruin. His entire family's fortune gambled away."
Hannibal nodded thoughtfully. This would indeed make it easier. Everything around him would slowly fall apart. If he could time this right, he would be able to escape with no trouble at all. Guards would disappear when no money came rolling in for their paychecks. Other servants would also be sacked and sent away. The eyes on him would dwindle one by one. He just needed to bide his time.
"Why did he buy me then? If he couldn't afford-"
"He needs stronger slaves to help him in the Americas. To build and to farm. He's been slowly finding slaves he could take with him. Educated, physically capable. Slaves to defend his homestead and to work for him. Those who can speak to the colonizers and the natives and organize trade. Those who can read and write and work."
"I will be going to the Americas?" Hannibal asked. He blinked quickly as his mind tried to process the information.
"I'm sorry that-"
"Don't apologize. I hear that the Americas are lovely this time of year." The joke came out without Hannibal's knowledge. A way to cope or distract while his mind filtered through everything. Fernando let out a halfhearted chuckle and Hannibal's lips tipped up in the corners. "When is this journey expected to happen?"
"I believe he is still getting some affairs in order. The stables were a big project he needed done. He needs the horses to help on the new land and if any of them are sick or unfit, he must know."
Hannibal nodded, watching as the city finally began to come into view on the horizon. "And the other projects?"
"Gathering food from the harvest if they can. Some of it will be good to pick. Other things he needs delivered. Once they are, I'm positive the ship will be loaded, and they will set off without settling any sort of debts or bills."
"He has a ship?"
"Oh yes."
"And what of you?" Hannibal hoped a better fate awaited the man than what currently awaited Hannibal if he stayed here. But Fernando was a servant. That was at least a step above Hannibal.
"I already have work lined up elsewhere. You do not need to worry about me." Fernando shot Hannibal a weary smile, as if the man were still unsure of exactly where he was still going to fall when that night did come.
Hannibal doubted he had enough work in the stables to be able to justify stretching it out for longer than it needed to be. If he had known that part of the timetables rested directly on his shoulders he would have risked more confrontation with Raçoso and the whip he kept on his belt.
"What do we need in town?" The change of subject was a welcomed one if Fernando's deflating breath of air and shoulders were anything to go by.
"I have a list." The announcement was proud. "I wrote it myself. I have been learning. Cecilia teaches me when she cooks in the main house."
Cecilia would be coming with him too then. If he somehow did get roped into going to the Americas, at least he would have someone feisty like Cecilia there beside him.
"That is nice of her. I'm very happy for you."
"I have been practicing my letters and my reading too."
"Let's see the list then." Hannibal held out his free hand with a grin waiting for the man to dig through his pockets for the piece of paper.
Hannibal kept his gaze around the city square, searching for a single child running around with all the rest of them. When he finally located Miguel among several children playing with a ball, he checked to make sure that Fernando was sufficiently busy with his nose in his crudely written list with another market owner and whistled loud enough to capture the boy's attention.
Miguel's face lit up when he spotted Hannibal and the boy excused himself from the game and raced over to Hannibal who made himself busy counting the sad number of coins in the palm of his hand to pay for the produce he was procuring.
"You're back!" Miguel said, his tone happy. Hannibal passed off the money before smiling down at the boy and passing him a peach. "Thank you!" Miguel bit into the fruit without a second thought, the juices spilling down his chin. Hannibal chuckled and lowered himself to his knees, using the hem of the boy's shirt to clean his face.
"How are you, Miguel?"
"Alright. My mom is baking today. She doesn't like me in the house when she's baking." Miguel shrugged.
"Miguel, I have a question to ask you."
"Sure." He took another large bite of the peach and spoke around it in a muffled voice. "What is it?"
Hannibal smiled, something akin to guilt filling his chest when he spoke. "Do you know where I'm staying now?"
Miguel nodded. "With the marquess at his manor."
"And do you know where that is?"
Miguel nodded and pointed in the direction of the house. "I've been there with my papa when he works sometimes. It's very big."
"It is," Hannibal agreed, biting back the swirling in his gut. "I need you to do a favor for me."
"Send the letter?"
"Yes." Hannibal ruffled the boy's hair. "There's just one problem. I don't know when I will be in town next, and I need it sent urgently."
"Why didn't you bring it today?"
"I didn't know I would be coming here today so I didn't have the chance to write it yet." Hannibal straightened himself back up and moved onto the next vendor with Miguel trailing behind him, happily still munching on the fruit. "Is there a way you could come see me at the manor?"
That stilled the boy's movements, the duckling lost as he looked up at Hannibal with wide eyes. Hannibal pointed to several vegetables he needed and set his basket on the wooden surface in front of him before turning to look at the boy. In the corner of his eye, he could see the woman filling his basket with what he asked so he turned his attention back to be fully on the boy.
"I don't know," Miguel said slowly, looking around him as his friends called his name. "I don't know when my dad will be going there next."
"Can you come without your dad?"
Hannibal hated that question. Hated exactly what he was asking the boy for. But even if other people around him knew who he was, had once respected him, he knew that they would be no help to him. No one would want to go against the marquess. Not if he funded the city. Not if he owned the land, they all worked on. Not if he was the center of everything. It would be suicide to help Hannibal. So, he twisted his words for a child and his blood felt dirty with it.
"Miguel!" The group called again, and Hannibal could see the attention of the boy fading, returning to the fun he had been having.
"You can return to your friends," Hannibal excused, now wishing the child would take the bait and do just that.
"In a few days my mom does the washing, and my dad usually leaves to help my grandpa. I can come then." Miguel absently took another bite of his peach and smiled at Hannibal before turning away and racing back to be with his friends. "Bye commander."
Hannibal exhaled slowly, handing the woman the money she was owed and gathering back up his things. He hoped the boy would forget the rendezvous. Not that they had really settled on anything solid. A few days could mean tomorrow, or it could mean the week after. Perhaps he needed to lean in a different direction and that was something Hannibal was more than comfortable doing. He didn't need that child to risk more than it was worth to help him. Hannibal could handle his own messes himself.
"Are you ready to head back?" Fernando's voice called behind Hannibal, startling him slightly and causing him to turn around to face the man. Hannibal nodded, mouth feeling horridly dry.
