Aquila Et Noctua

by P J Mann

  “It is one year since I bought you. How do you feel about your life in my house?” he asked, during one evening before going to sleep.

  I feel less confused and serving you has become more a pleasure than a duty.”

  “Does my son have any problems with your service?”

  “No, Master. What do you mean by that?” Saul asked, surprised.

  “I noticed that after I bought you, the relationship between you and my son was warmer, then recently got cold. What happened? Did you disappoint him?”

  “No, Master. Lately, there have been a lot of events. When I was told I would be given away as a wedding gift, my world was turned upside down.” He wasn’t sure he should tell him about the deal he had with Flavius.

  Marcus Tiberius looked at him as if he could not comprehend why it was such a big deal, but he was determined to understand. “Can you be more specific?”

  “The day you bought me, Master Flavius offered me his friendship. However, his offer of an egalitarian relationship disoriented me. I could not be his friend; he is my Master. After a while, I asked him not to behave like a friend, but as a Master,” he tossed his arms out. “Recently, I became a close friend of one of the other students, Caius. I am afraid Master Flavius got jealous of how well we related to each other.”

  “Saul, my son is a mild-mannered person, and you are very young. For this reason, I won’t punish you.” Marcus Tiberius locked his eyes on Saul’s. “Your Master decides how to behave with you, and you are not to assert your opinion. A slave accepts whatever comes from his Master, whether it is a punishment or a reward.”

  Saul bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Master, you are right. I shouldn’t have objected to his behavior… I behaved stupidly.” Looking up, he met Marcus’ eyes. “I need the steady hand of a Master to lead me into slavery.”

  Marcus Tiberius turned his shoulder to him and thought about it as Saul patiently waited for his final decision. Then he turned to look at Saul. He still was not sure what he should do, but he knew he had to help his slave in one way or another.

  I don’t want to punish him, but perhaps there isn’t any other way…

  “Saul, I think I understand what is going on in your heart and, trust me, my decision is hurting my heart more than you can possibly imagine. I will punish your misbehavior toward my son with twenty lashes as soon as we get back home, in front of Flavius, to whom you owe an apology.”

  Saul’s heart stuttered. He felt as if someone had stabbed him, but he understood this would be more useful than thousands of words. He turned his gaze downward and smiled. “Thank you, Master. I am sorry I disappointed you; this will never happen again. I am grateful for your understanding.”

  Marcus Tiberius caressed his slave’s face and raised his chin to force him to meet his eyes, then he kissed his forehead. Saul’s eyes filled with an inner glow as that was the most soul-stirring gesture he’d ever received since the beginning of his slavery. His heart beat faster and faster.

  “Master…” he whispered, breathlessly. Then Marcus Tiberius drew closer and kissed his lips.

  Saul felt his body melting, intoxicated by his passionate kisses. He held Marcus Tiberius, who hugged him tightly against his chest.

  “You are a good youth, Saul; you just need guidance.” He lay him on his bed, cuddling together.

  Their journey continued smoothly, and soon, the incident was left behind but lived on their memories. On a fair September morning, Marcus Tiberius and Saul returned home, welcomed at the door by the entire family.

  Marcus Tiberius dismissed Saul, ordering him to go to the slaves’ quarters until he called him.

  He left, knowing that he would be punished soon. Strangely, he felt gratitude for what would be, for him, the most valuable lesson in his slavery.

  Marcus Tiberius entertained himself, surrounded by his beloved ones. Flaminia’s eyes were brightened by the presence of her husband. It was a relief to have him back at home safe and sound and ordered the slaves to bring food and wine.

  When he was settled in his chair, Flavius asked, “How was your trip, Father?”

  “It went well, and I am fully satisfied with Saul’s job.”

  He moved his arms about casually as he talked, “I had the opportunity to have an interesting discussion with him, from which emerged information that he disrespected you, refusing your friendship.”

  “Yes, Father, but this is not something I consider disrespectful. I am rather pleased with his honesty. I understand he is a slave, but he is also a boy younger than I am, who had to learn what his position was. I am not disappointed…I understand.”

  “What I understand is, instead, that he misbehaved. For this reason, I condemned him to be punished with twenty lashes today in front of you,” he said, his lips tightening into a grim line.

  Flavius couldn’t find any words to save his friend and looked at his father, shocked. His mind searched for a way to make his father reconsider his decision.

  Why did Saul tell him about our deal? “Please, Father, don’t do that. I’ve asked him to be entirely honest with me, and he obeyed. He was not ready to accept the friendship I wanted to give; not yet. I understood and accepted that. Please, Father, don’t punish him. I behaved in the wrong way in the first place, so I am the one who deserves to be punished,” Flavius pleaded.

  “He is a slave, and he has to learn his place. If no one else will teach him, then I will. This will be a lesson for you as well. I hope you learn what it means to be a Master and how you should deal with a slave. Now, I want you to go back to your room and wait for my call.”

  Flavius left his father with tears in his eyes and walked to his room. He felt guilty, but also disappointed in Saul. The deal between them should not have been shared with anyone else. Maybe he deserves to be punished, but for a different reason. Maybe he deserves a double punishment, one from my father and one from me. The longer he thought about it, the more desperation set in.

  “Do you think it was the right decision?” Flaminia asked Marcus Tiberius.

  “You don’t understand how much this decision is hurting me, but it is a necessary one. The slave is confused and needs steady guidance to be able to commit himself totally to his new life. Oddly, it seems that the only one who understands my point of view is Saul himself; he accepted my decision with a lighter heart than any of you.”

  “I am not questioning your decision; I know you never act cruelly; however, Saul is a boy. We've never punished any of our slaves like that. I am surprised by it, and Flavius shares my concern.” She placed her hand over his. “Twenty is a lot.”

  “Sure, but necessary.” Marcus Tiberius frowned as he left the room, having had enough of empty, useless discussions.

  He called Caleb and explained the situation so he could arrange the details. An hour later, Saul was brought to the garden with his wrists tied together and his torso naked. Caleb secured his wrists over his head, locking the rope over a branch of a tree.

  Marcus Tiberius arrived immediately after with his wife and Flavius, whose eyes filled again with bitter tears.

  He drew nearer. “Saul...why? Why have you told my father about our deal?” he whispered.

  “He asked me the reason for the sudden change between us. I could not deny him the truth, but he is right; I am not in the position to tell you how to behave toward me,” he replied in a low tone of voice.

  Flavius caressed his face, then slapped him. “You could have lied…” he said dryly.

  “Should I lie to my Master? What kind of consequences should I expect after that?”

  Flavius lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  Marcus Tiberius signaled to Caleb, who took the whip in his hand raised to the air and cringing, he stroke the first lash, cracking on Saul’s soft skin.

  Saul’s eyes opened wide to the sudden burning pain, breaking his breath, making him unable to make any sound.

  At each slash of his skin, Saul felt his flesh tear apart, along with his soul—and
the final fragments of his freedom.

  Hot tears flooded his eyes as he saw Flavius weeping.

  After the fourth lash, the pain engulfed him, became unbearable. Unable to keep the pain, he screamed louder with each strike but refrained himself from begging his Master to stop.

  Flaminia averted her face and tried to walk away, but Marcus Tiberius held her arm with a firm grasp.

  “Don’t go. This is a lesson from which we all shall learn,” Marcus Tiberius said in a trembling voice.

  “He is only a child,” she hissed.

  “He is a slave,” he corrected.

  The twentieth lash finally landed, leaving Saul’s back bleeding and aching to the deepest part of his soul. As Caleb freed his wrists, Saul fell to his hands and knees, unable to stand.

  With the last fragment of his strength, he looked up at Flavius. “Please, Master. Forgive me.”

  Flavius dropped to his knees and helped Saul to stand. “I am so sorry. I forgot to behave as a good Master, and this mistake brought you to be punished.”

  Saul tried to smile.

  Flavius looked at Rufus. “Take proper care of his wounds,” he said as Caleb took him in his arms.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Caleb carried Saul to the slaves’ room, and gently laid him on the bed, on his belly. Rufus would treat the wounds so that they would heal faster and without any visible scars.

  After Caleb brought the necessary supplies, Rufus said, “Now, Saul, this will burn. After one week or so, your skin won’t show any signs of what happened today.”

  His back already burned like the flames of eternal damnation. He thought he couldn’t feel any worse than he did, however, as Rufus started to spread the balsam, he flinched and cried out. His voice crescendoed to a scream as the balsam was spread all over his back.

  Despite the pain, he felt like he finally reached the understanding of his place. That was his first real step toward acceptance of being a slave. In his heart, he found a new sense of peace—and he owed it to Marcus Tiberius.

  Rufus finished bandaging his torso. “We will clean it regularly, so it won’t get infected. My son, everything will be fine.” He helped Saul to turn from his position. “Now sleep and rest for as long as you need. Tomorrow is another day, and you will already feel much better.”

  Saul didn’t have any strength left to even listen to what he was saying, and after a couple of hours, he woke up. His wounds still hurt, but the pain was subsiding. He dressed and walked to Marcus Tiberius’ room, where he found him working. “Master.”

  Marcus Tiberius raised his head and looked at Saul perplexed. “I haven’t called you…”

  “I just wanted…needed to thank you again for your punishment. As odd as it might sound, it helped me. I know that Master Flavius and Mistress Flaminia can’t understand it, and I guess that nobody else, but you and I can.”

  Marcus Tiberius nodded in agreement and stood, then walked over to Saul. He hugged him. “You are a good boy and the most loyal among my slaves. I'm glad you understood that my punishment was not for cruelty. Maybe one day, my son will learn a lesson from it and understand as well. How do you feel now?” he asked, gently caressing his tousled hair.

  “It is still hurting a bit, but I will be fine. Thank you for asking, Master.”

  “Go rest now. Tomorrow, you will go to school, but I’ll ask Rufus to carry your tablets. You won’t be able to carry anything on your shoulders for a while. I don’t want your skin marred by scars.”

  “Yes, Master,” he replied blushing.

  As Saul entered the main living room, he heard someone whispering from behind. He turned his head and saw Flavius peeking from the door of his room. “Come here. I need to talk to you.”

  When they were both inside the room, Flavius looked around, searching for the right words and the courage to say what he wanted.

  “Saul, I can’t understand what is going on… How do you feel?” Flavius tilted his head and glanced him with a worried expression, holding his arms.

  “I am fine, Master. I have something to tell you, and I hope you will listen and understand what I mean.”

  Flavius glanced at him. “I will try to at least understand.”

  “At first, this punishment was a sort of agreement between your father and me. He didn’t do anything for cruelty.” Saul frowned, trying to find the right words to tell him how that punishment was necessary. “It hasn’t been easy for me to understand what it means to be a slave. I might be too young to perceive it in such a short time. An adult would have been able to give up his hopes more quickly than me.” He paused. “Now I know it sounds odd, but I honestly feel better about it already. I believe that if you continue to help me by behaving as a Master, I will reach full acceptance of my life. This punishment felt like the one a father would inflict on his own son, not for cruelty, but to correct a misbehavior.”

  Flavius pondered carefully his words. It would have been difficult for him to understand, but maybe what he was saying made sense, and his father was right when he said that his punishment could be a valuable lesson for all.

  “I, too, should be punished for being such a bad Master, but I will try to get better. I will put more efforts to become a good Master; however, I wish our deal to survive. I will wait until the day you feel comfortable enough with me to be my friend. I will learn from my father, to treat you as he does, if this makes things easier, but I will always be there for you.”

  Saul exhaled and nodded. “Yes, Master, we all have a lot to learn. And who knows? One day I might be able to be your friend. I will also be there for you, Master. I’m not saying this because I have to, but because I feel you close to my heart, and… because I like you.”

  Saul left Flavius’ room and strode slowly to the slaves’ room. Soon the sun would set ending day that had been painful in many respects.

  Concern etched wrinkles across Rufus’ forehead. “Saul, we need to take care of your back before you go to sleep. Master Marcus Tiberius ordered me to carry the waxed tablets until you are fully recovered.”

  “Thank you. I will need your help.” Saul smirked as they reached the kitchen for dinner.

  Rufus was surprised by Saul’s mood. He suspected that, in the punishment, there was an untold story that would have explained the calm serenity with which Saul accepted the punishment. It seemed as if the bond had tightened between them.

  Saul rushed to eat his dinner so he could have his back medicated, then go to sleep. Seeing that Rufus had also finished, he asked, “Would you take care of my wounds now?

  “Sure, let’s go,” he said, standing up from his chair.

  He retrieved the balsam while Saul preceded him to the dorm and laid on his belly on the bed.

  Rufus didn’t want to be nosy in the matters between Marcus Tiberius and Saul, but curiosity ran too high. “It seems almost impossible to believe how fast you recovered,” he said.

  “I guess I understand what my place is. I realize my position as a slave, and I am accepting it,” he replied. “I know it sounds strange, but this punishment helped. There are so many things I still can’t understand, but I am going to make a big effort to focus on them. What is clear to me, is that it doesn’t matter how old or young I am, as long as I am a slave, and Flavius needed to benefit from my punishment for him to become a good Master, like his father.”

  Rufus listened with his head tilted. “I hope that Master Flavius and Mistress Claudia understand your value as a slave. Master Flavius is not enthusiastic about marrying her. The words he used to describe her do not instill hope for anything good, but maybe he is exaggerating, but it doesn’t matter. They are getting married for wealth and social status, not love.”

  He wondered what would become of Saul. He liked him and was sorry to see him going away. The household would feel emptier without him, and surely Cassandra would miss him the most. He was almost sure that she liked him in a particular way even though she was a bit older.

  “Do you have any id
ea when the wedding ceremony takes place?” Rufus asked.

  “It should be after Master Flavius’ twentieth birthday. I think Claudia is about his age.”

  “I knew that there was no age difference between them. How does it work in your country, Saul? Are women usually the same age as men when they get married?”

  Saul remained silent, trying to remember something about the time he was still home.

  “I don’t know, but my mother was much younger than my father. My memory is a fragment of what it was, and I was taken away before I thought of girls…”

  Rufus stood from the bed and closed the jar with the balsam. “So, you don’t have any idea whether your family already had planned to find a wife for you?”

  “No, it would have been too early for that, “he chuckled, then his expression darkened like some old memories reemerged from an unpleasant past.

  “My sister had her engagement party just before we were taken. She was supposed to get married in seven years. I hope she was sold to a good Master like I was. Saul shook his head to cast away the bad thoughts. “I’m scared every time I think about it. She can even be…” His voice flickered, and his heart stuttered.

  He knew she could be dead; however, this was an option he was not ready to accept.

  He remembered the party celebrating her engagement to a twenty-year-old man, handsome and kind. She kept holding on me, grasping my hand, unwilling to let it go. He was glad that his father decided to give her to a virtuous man rather than to a richer one. He was sure the future husband would have treated her with respect and taken proper care of her. But, when we were taken from the house of my uncle, everything was lost, together with her hope for a better life.