‘Don’t call me master,’ I said. But she was right again. The old name she had called me in my youth belonged to other days, another life, when we were free and young and full of hope. ‘ “Libertus” if you must.’
‘Then, sleep well, Libertus. Thank you for your care.’
‘I have dreamt of you every night,’ I said, my heart thumping.
‘And I of you,’ she said. She gestured to the bed. ‘Libertus ... if you wish...’
It was tempting, but I had read those eyes and I knew better now. ‘Not like this,’ I said. I kissed her on the head. ‘When you are ready, Gwellia. Not before. And never as a slave. I’ll take you to the courts, and set you free.’
She looked at me warily, those years of use and torment in her eyes. ‘And until then?’ she said.
I laughed. All desire left me and I felt only a great welling surge of protective love. ‘Until then, I am an old man,’ I said gruffly, ‘and I have had a difficult few days. Go to the servants’ room and get some rest. And send my slave – my other slave – to me. I want him to help me to undress.’
Her eyes lit up with a little of the old tenderness. ‘You understand! I didn’t think you would. You’re still the same man that I always knew.’
She left me with a smile. Junio, proud to be still wanted at my side, was grinning like a fish when he came in, but he had the grace to look surprised.
‘Master?’
‘I have waited for my wife for twenty years,’ I said. ‘I can wait a little longer. She will come to me one day, in her own time. Willingly.’
And she did. It was worth the waiting for.
The Chariots of Calyx Page 25