The rest of the neighbourhood was primarily residential. Byrsa was one of the richer quarters, as its wide, straight thoroughfares and right-angled intersections proved. The majority of the city’s winding streets were no more than ten paces across, but here they averaged more than twice this width. In addition to wealthy merchants and senior army officers, the suffetes — judges — and many elders also called the area home. For this reason, Hanno ran with his gaze directed at the packed earth and the regular soak-away holes beneath his feet. Plenty of people knew who he was. The last thing he wanted was to be stopped and challenged by one of Malchus’ numerous political opponents. To be dragged back home by the ear would be embarrassing and bring dishonour to his family.

As long as they didn’t catch anyone’s eye, he and his friend would pass unnoticed. Bare-headed and wearing tight-fitting red woollen singlets, with a central white stripe and a distinctive wide neckband, and breeches that reached to the knee, the pair looked no different to other well-to-do youths. Their garb was far more practical than the long straight wool tunics and conical felt hats favoured by most adult men, and more comfortable than the ornate jacket and pleated apron worn by those of Cypriot extraction. Sheathed daggers hung from simple leather straps thrown over their shoulders. Suniaton carried a bulging pack on his back.

Although people said that they could pass for brothers, Hanno couldn’t see it most of the time. While he was tall and athletic, Suniaton was short and squat. Naturally, they both had tightly curled black hair and a dark complexion, but there the resemblance ended. Hanno’s face was thin, with a straight nose and high cheekbones, while his friend’s round visage and snub nose were complemented by a jutting chin. They did both have green eyes, Hanno conceded. That feature, unusual among the brown-eyed Carthaginians, was probably why they were thought to be siblings.