by P J Mann
When he found it difficult to fall asleep, his mother used to sing him a lullaby. She would sit down beside him, caressing his forehead, and sing in her sweet, gentle voice. He could almost hear her.
He closed his eyes and the same lilting danced in his ears.
When he opened them, although the melody played in his heart, his mother and his family and his home were far away. He rose from his bed and looked up at the sky. Before he realized it, he was singing the same lullaby.
His harmonious voice filled the quiet night air, carrying the melody through the halls, rooms, and corridors of the house, soothing, caressing the air and the sleep of the people living in that house.
The clear notes drifted to the slaves still gathered in the kitchen, having a last chat of the evening, and planning their duties for the next day. As if mesmerized, Nana and the others stood and followed the song until they arrived at Saul’s bed where he sat, looking at the sky through the small window and singing, sadly, his lullaby.
Nana knew that no noise was allowed after dark, especially from the slaves’ rooms, and she knew she should stop Saul before their Masters heard him. However, his voice was so mellow and pure that she thought it was coming directly from the gods rather than from a little boy. She found herself unable to stop it.
Saul’s voice faltered song as soon as he realized he wasn’t alone. Disappointment crossed the faces of those gathered around his bed, charmed by his simple yet gloomy melody.
The slaves were not the only ones attracted by the song. Flavius opened his eyes and realized that he wasn’t dreaming; that the melody must have been real. Who is singing at this time of the night?
He stood up and walked toward the door of his room, trying to determine where the music came from. When he realized it was emanating from the slaves’ quarters, he immediately thought that Saul was probably the singer and smiled.
He went back to his bed, closed his eyes, and let the melody soothe his soul, hoping Saul would sing it again, but only for him.
Marcus Tiberius awoke at the same moment that Saul stopped singing. He looked at his wife, peacefully sleeping by his side, and felt unsure whether he just had a dream or if someone was singing in their house.
“Saul, darling, that was the most charming song I've ever heard, or maybe it was just your voice that made it magic,” Nana said as she walked to him.
Saul stood up from his bed and looked at her as if he was waking from a dream. He didn’t realize that somebody had heard him. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disturb anyone.”
“You didn’t disturb me at all, but I hope none of our Masters heard it and were annoyed, or you might face your first punishment.”
Saul felt regretful and afraid that their Masters had heard him; his heart was beating faster in anticipation of what sort of punishment he had to expect for such behavior. The curious thing was, he had never sung before.
Cassandra entered the room, looking around whether she could hear any noise coming from the rooms of their Masters. “Nana, now you are the one who is scaring the boy. Apparently, nobody heard him, or they would have been here already.”
“My mother used to sing it when I couldn’t fall asleep.” He couldn’t stop the tears pooling in his eyes. “I miss her so much.”
Nana sat on his bed and held him tightly against her. “Saul, darling, I am so sorry. Please don’t cry. Everything will be fine, and we will be your family. I know I can’t be like your mother, but I will be whenever you need me, when you can’t fall asleep, or whenever else. We all feel like that sometimes; we all miss our families, our houses, our countries, whatever meant home to our hearts, but rules are rules,”
Cassandra motioned to the other slaves to leave the room. “Come on, you all, let’s leave them alone, and not a word about it to our Masters. If none of us heard that song, then there will be no trouble for Saul.”
Nana continued to caress Saul, tracing soothing circles on his back. “Shh.”
Cassandra whispered. “Everything is calm. It is time for us to go to rest as well.”
“Shh, he just fell asleep.” Nana eased him onto the bed.
“He’s so cute.” With a gentle hand, Cassandra removed the ribbon from his hair. “Tomorrow, I will fix his hair before he goes to school.”
The rest of the night passed peacefully, yet too soon, Rufus came to wake Saul up.
“It’s time to get prepared for Master Flavius,” he said, gently shaking his shoulder.
Automatically, Saul got up rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. He tried to recollect his thoughts, and as he realized where he was, he grabbed his new clothes and walked to the same pool where he bathed the day before to wash his face. He glanced the surroundings still immersed in the semi-darkness of the dawn, slowly waking up from the drowsiness, and walked to the kitchen.
He felt already hungry, and he got something to eat, while Cassandra combed his hair the way she did the day before. When he was ready to present himself to Flavius, Rufus accompanied him.
“Good morning, Master,” Saul greeted, shaking Flavius on his bed warily.
Flavius opened his eyes and yawned. “Good morning, Saul. Are you ready for your first day of school?”
“Yes, I am.” The lump in his throat eased when Flavius said nothing about hearing singing.
As Saul helped him dress, Flavius chuckled, “I noticed someone singing last night, and I guess I know who it was.”
Cold shivers of fear traced a path down his backbone. “I am truly sorry. Did your father wake up?” He tried to control the trembling that was taking over his body.
“Don’t you worry. You are not in trouble, and I am not going to tell anyone,” Flavius reassured him.
“Thank you. I promise it will never happen again.”
“I hope it will. I love your voice, and I liked the melody. You have to sing for me when I ask you.”
“When you order me, I will obey,” Saul lowered his head, unable to hide his smile of relief.
“Let’s go to school,” Flavius said rushing to dress up and get ready to leave, helped by Rufus.
Saul grabbed the bag with the waxed tablet and slung it over his shoulder. His knees threatened to buckle under the weight, but he could not withdraw his words; therefore, he had to carry them at least for that day. He hoped that the school was not too far from their house.
They started their journey in the semi-darkness of the early morning hours, proceeding silently. Saul concentrated on carrying the bag.
“That bag must be heavy for you to carry,” Flavius said, stopping for a moment at the side of the road.
“It is; Rufus allowed me to carry your tablets for today, but I am wondering whether this was a good idea,” Saul said between pants.
“Or I can carry mine.”
“No. It is my task.” Saul placed the bag on the ground, massaging his aching shoulder to rest a bit.
“I don’t care what I am or what I’m not supposed to do. I do what I want, and you shall not question me,” Flavius warned, taking his tablets from the bag.
Saul hung his head. “Thank you. I thought I could do it.”
“Now it will be lighter,” Flavius said, starting to walk away.
Saul lifted the bag on his shoulders, relieved at how much lighter it felt. He rushed to catch up to Flavius.
As he caught up, Flavius said, “I like Rufus not being with us. Let’s do this every day. When we arrive at this exact point, I will carry my tablets. Since I’m not going to tell anyone, nobody will know that I am helping you.”
“It is very kind of you. You are totally different from your father,” Saul observed. He understood he should have been more diplomatic in his statements and wondered whether giving such an honest opinion about his own Master could be considered disrespectful.
“I don’t like his attitude either, but he is very demanding toward me as well. This is his way. I've heard some people treat their slaves more cruelly than their horses. I guess it was only b
y the favor of the gods that your people were enslaved rather than us. Maybe one day I might be sold as a slave; the gods can be vengeful,” he said as they walked the streets, past vendors setting up their stalls.
The sun rising in the sky promised a hot day as it chased away the chilly air of dawn.
“Here we are. This is our teacher's house. He was once a slave, but then he was freed,” Flavius explained as they approached the entrance divided from the street by a simple curtain made of rough canvas. The curtain was leading to a room. A heavy wooden door divided that room from the house of the teacher.
For a moment, Saul wondered whether he could also hope for freedom one day.
A young boy greeted them, with a disdainful smirk on his face. “Flavius, you are late.”
“Caius, maybe you arrived earlier than usual, rather than I am late. Anyway, this is Saul.”
“He is your new slave? Where is Rufus?” Caius asked as he considered Saul from head to feet.
“Yes, he is my father’s new slave; however, hold on before you think about being disrespectful to him. He is younger, but more educated than us.”
“A slave is a slave, no matter how educated he might be. He is coming to school with us?” he asked with a disparaging shade in his voice.
“Off with that tone, Caius, and yes, he is coming with us,” Flavius grunted.
Saul stood silent, not knowing how he should behave. Caleb probably forgot to tell him.
At that moment, the teacher appeared from a door on the opposite side of the room. He was a tall man on his forties, with a thin spidery figure. The wrinkles on his forehead lowered his eyebrows and gave him a perpetual disappointed expression, like a constant frown. This was enhanced by complete baldness.
“Hmm, three students, one of whom I don’t know. Who are you, son?”
“He is Saul, and he is my slave,” Flavius offered.
The teacher became serious and frowned even further giving him a devilish expression. “I don’t remember directing that question to you, Flavius Numida. Let the boy speak for himself. When I need something from you, I will ask you.” He turned to Saul. “Now, tell me, who are you?”
Saul felt intimidated by the teacher’s expression and didn’t know what he was supposed to answer anymore.
“Well, apart from my name and the fact I am Master Flavius’ slave, I guess there is not much else to say. I come from the Judea Province; my father was a merchant, and before we were brought here and sold as slaves, we were living in Jerusalem,” he answered, looking down.
“You mean Aelia Capitolina, Saul,” corrected Caius with a teasing tone in his voice.
“I-I, yes,” he replied in a low tone of voice.
“So, we have a student from Jerusalem. That is interesting. Are you ashamed of your roots, son?” he asked, emphasizing the name of the city.
Saul studied his feet. He certainly felt ashamed; however, he felt more humiliated at admitting in front of people like Caius that he was a creature, considered inferior by every Roman citizen. It did not matter whether Flavius treated him like a friend; he knew that he was his Master, and there could never be a fair, egalitarian relationship like the one he probably shared with Caius.
The old teacher’s face relaxed into an almost humane expression. “Saul, in this class there are no masters or slaves. What I see are three young boys willing to become educated, successful adults, nothing more,” he explained, glancing with a severe stare at Caius.
“Yes, teacher.” Caius pulled a face, looking up impatiently.
The older man returned his attention to Saul. “I suppose you can speak Greek as well,” he asked, switching languages.
“Yes, Sir, I can,” he responded in Greek.
“Very well. We can start the lesson, even if the other two students are, as usual, late. Take your seats.”
As he gestured for Saul to sit beside Flavius, Antonius and Julius ran into the room, with flushed faces and huffing.
“Where are your manners? You don’t come inside other people’s houses running like Hades is chasing after your souls,” the teacher thundered.
“We are sorry, Teacher.”
“You will remain longer this afternoon so you can think about the meaning of being on time for your duties.”
Antonius winked at Julius, and he smiled. They sat down, not even noticing the new student.
“By the way, as you might have already perceived, there is a new student with us. His name is Saul. I hope you will accept him and give him all due respect. Now we can start the lesson.”
Julius flashed a smile that Saul felt was more valuable than any words. Antonius cast a quick glance in his direction, then gave him a quick look, but he turned his gaze downward as the teacher turned to face him.
In the late afternoon, class was dismissed, except for Julius and Antonius.
Caius gave just a brief sign with his hand and left, in the direction of the Thermae, where he used to spend his after school. He wasn’t impressed by Saul, but something in that slave made him smile, as he walked the streets.
“I’m sorry you have to remain longer,” Saul said to Julius.
“Antonius and I, we often arrive late. Every day, we meet in the Forum so we can walk to school together. On our way, there is a merchant who sells the sweetest dates in all of Rome. You have to try them.”
“But then you will be late again,” Saul observed.
“Trust me, it’s worth it. See you tomorrow.”
As the boys walked away from the school, Flavius asked, “What do you think about your first day? You seem to have sympathy for Julius,”
“The teacher reminds me of the one I had when I was at home. I guess they all look and behave the same. He was always disappointed for some reason. I never saw him smile. And, yes, Julius seems to be a kind person, more so than Caius. I can’t yet have any opinion about Antonius.”
“Caius wants to show himself as a tough guy, but he is not too bad. He just does not trust people at first, particularly Rome’s enemies, which, in this case, is you. You were brought here as a slave because your people were our enemies.”
Saul mulled it over. He found it difficult to consider himself or his people as enemies of Rome. They had been conquered; from his point of view, Rome was the enemy.
“Concerning Antonius,” Flavius continued, “he is a really shy person and entirely dependent on Julius. He does exactly what he says; it seems like he needs a leader and found the right one in Julius. I don’t know what he will become as an adult, maybe a soldier, but I’m afraid he’s not brave enough. Well, we’ll see.”
“What would you like to be?” Saul asked.
“Me? I think I’d like to grow as a man of the law, a lawyer or a judge, although, I’m fascinated by the diplomatic careers too… We’ll see. At the moment, I am curious to see how skillful you are on horseback.”
“I am keen on showing you.”
They walked for about half an hour before arriving at the family farm, and they could get rid of the tablets they were carrying.
A slave emerged from a horse stall, “Good afternoon, Master. Are you here to ride?”
“Yes, we’d like the best horses available. This is Saul, he is my father’s new slave.”
“Good afternoon, Saul,” the slave glanced at Saul, with a hint of curiosity, and greeted him as he led them into the stables. The scent of the hey together with the smell of the horses and their feces, triggered in Saul old memories about the animals of a close-by farm. Those images vividly returned in front of his eyes like he was magically brought back to his home. Saul deeply inhaled with a smile on his face.
“You can choose the one you prefer,” the slave’s voice interrupted Saul’s thought, bringing him abruptly to his reality.
Saul looked around disoriented, and with a sigh, he watched Flavius approaching the stalls.
Flavius poked his head over the door of each stall, then pointed to a chestnut gelding near the end. “I’ll take Adorantus this time
. Dilectus seems to be tired today. Saul, come and choose yours.”
Saul approached each stall, peeking inside and looking carefully at each horse. After a couple of rounds, he decided upon a black mare “I’ll take this one. What’s its name?”
“She is Puerina, and she has a great character. She will be gentle if you are not an experienced horseman,” Flavius replied with a daring tone in his voice.
As the slave approached with a saddle, Saul said, “Don’t bother with mine. I can prepare it myself.”
After a few minutes, they rode together into the woods. The sense of freedom given by the wind through his hair and the feeling of competition with Flavius brought him to smile and chuckle.
After about one hour, Flavius stopped his horse as they reached the top of the hill. “Come, Saul, let our horses rest a bit. You are very skilled for a boy of your age,” he said, dismounting. “You don’t talk a lot, do you? Perhaps I am the one who’s talking too much.”
“I guess I am short of topics. It is not easy to understand my life. I have no more plans for the future; I am not going to school for my own sake, but to be more useful to your family. My Master rules my life, as he owns it, he decides my days, my schedules, my tasks. I am what he wants me to be,” His voice flickered. “I am thankful to you for treating me like a friend and giving me the illusion of a normal life, but this is just an illusion; it is not real. One day, you will leave to serve the army, and after that, how much time will pass before you establish your own family? Three years, four; no matter, I won’t be different from what I am now—a slave. What will become of me when my Master dies? Will I be sold like his other properties?”
Flavius felt strangely confused. None of his slaves had ever talked to him like that. Never had anybody dared to speak his soul as Saul did, if he didn’t consider the days during the Saturnalia festivities. If his father had heard that, Saul would have been punished, but Flavius didn’t feel offended. Instead, he realized the value of a slave who, with bravery, would tell him the reality without being offensive or disrespectful. Something hurt in his heart.