Aquila Et Noctua

by P J Mann

  Nevertheless, the worst was over; his life would go back to the regular routine.

  “Saul,” a voice called. He turned his head and saw Marcus Tiberius.

  “Master,” he muttered weakly.

  “I am going to the Thermae. Join me.”

  He followed him, with no strength left to even think.

  When Marcus Tiberius faced him at the front door, he asked, “What happened? Is that blood on your tunic?”

  Saul looked down at himself. “An accident…”

  “Can you change into something clean and wash your face?” Marcus Tiberius ordered with an annoyed expression darkening his features.

  “Yes, Master.” He ran to clean up and rushed back out of breath. “Here I am, Master. Sorry I made you wait for me.”

  “Don’t you worry. You must be dead tired.”

  Saul nodded, grateful that his Master wasn’t angry.

  They walked in silence until Marcus Tiberius suddenly asked, “Tell me, what do you think of Claudia?”

  Saul back stiffened at that unexpected question. “She will be my Mistress, and I’m going to serve her as loyally as I serve you, Master.”

  Marcus Tiberius smiled, amused at his clumsy diplomacy. “I know you will be loyal to her, but that was not my question. Do you understand what I am asking?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Marcus Tiberius groaned. “Do you like Claudia? Do you think you can serve her with the same serenity you do Flaminia? Do you think you will be able to feel the same affection for her?”

  Saul could not figure out a diplomatic way of saying he was afraid of her.

  Flaminia was a kind person, and her orders mostly sounded like requests. She never treated her slaves as inferior creatures, differently Saul feared it would have been the situation with Claudia.

  “No, Master, I could never have the same feelings for Claudia as I do for Mistress Flaminia. I have no right to question whether my Master is someone I like or not. I have only one duty: obey my master’s orders, and that is what I am going to do.” He inhaled deeply and released his breath in a rush. “Master, I fear her more than I fear God.”

  Marcus Tiberius took time pondering Saul’s words. “I saw what happened yesterday and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like her to hit you the way she did, but I am afraid this will continue to happen. For this reason, I added a clause to the marriage contract that offered you as a wedding gift to my son. It stated that if I need you during my trips, I have the right to use your services.

  “Moreover, if I understand that your life in that household is threatened, I will take you back to serve me full time. I sincerely hope that this second option will never happen. Even if you are just something I own, I don’t like useless violence.”

  “I-I think I understand what you mean, Master,” he replied, not quite sure about it.

  “Saul, I don’t like giving you away, but a promise is a promise, and I…” Marcus Tiberius tried to justify himself.

  “Master, you don’t need to explain; you did what you thought was better for your son. I... I’m nothing. Master Flavius has been terribly upset. He thinks you care more about me than him because you found a way to protect me from Mistress Claudia.” Saul looked down. “Maybe you should have a serious talk with him; he needs you. He is growing up, but becoming a man takes more than age, and now he needs to become one. He is almost fifteen. In two years, he will serve in the army. Time is running fast.”

  Marcus Tiberius hadn’t understood the situation with Flavius and felt grateful to Saul for his insight. Again, he realized how valuable he was as a slave. In one year, he had grown from that scared little thing he bought from the market to the wise boy standing in front of him, giving precious advice. He wished his son could have grown up like that as well. Maybe he needed to make more of an effort to mentor Flavius.

  “I will talk to him; he is wrong if he thinks I prefer you to him. I decided to insert those clauses because you have been brought into the middle of something which doesn’t belong to you, and that can lead to punishments you don’t deserve. Saul, sure I care more about you than all my slaves, but never more than my own son. He might have misunderstood. He put a hand on his forehead, “did he have anything to do with the accident?”

  “N-no, Master.” He gazed in the direction of a man carrying a cart full of hay.

  Marcus Tiberius’ voice harshened. “Saul…”

  “Yes, Master, he got upset and hit me.”

  Marcus Tiberius nodded. “He is overreacting, acting as if this wedding is the end of the world. Something I learned last night is that, for some reason, Claudia sees you as a rival. Maybe we should talk to Flaminia. Being a woman, she might understand better what went on in Claudia’s mind for her to hit you.

  Saul could not stop thinking about his future Mistress. She had been hostile to him since the beginning.

  Marcus Tiberius and Saul soon arrived at the Baths of Trajan. As they entered, Saul thought he felt other people’s eyes on him, or maybe it was just his impression. This was his second time in a Thermae.

  “What are you looking around for? Help me undress,” Marcus Tiberius ordered.

  Saul turned to him as if woken up from a dream. “Oh yes, Master,” he replied, hurrying up to help him shed his clothes.

  He had never seen him naked in the light of the day. A warmth spread from his chest to his face.

  “Saul, what’s wrong with you today? You have to undress too. Take off your clothes,”

  “Forgive me, Master. I’ve been here only once with Caius,” he said as he complied.

  Marcus Tiberius chuckled. After he had put their clothes away, they walked through the halls toward the caldarium.

  “This is where all Roman citizens, as well as slaves, come to relax. It is considered very beneficial for health. Where do you go when you are not serving us?”

  “The other slaves usually take me to a tavern. Some of them are looking for girls.”

  “A tavern is not a place for children,” Marcus Tiberius objected as he sat down on a bench.

  “I know, but nobody objects, and we enjoy the tasty food and wine. Sometimes I don’t like going there, but sometimes, it turns out really funny,” Saul recalled, amused.

  Marcus Tiberius shook his head, smiling as well.

  He looked at Saul. He’d never seen the boy naked in the daylight, except for the day he bought him at the market. The boy’s physique, though immature, showed promise of becoming an adult who would resemble a god. His dark hair, now unbound from the ribbon that usually gathered it on his head, flowed over his smooth shoulders. Fine beads of sweat glistened, enhancing his body’s form.

  Saul glanced at Marcus Tiberius. He looked so much bigger than him; he suddenly felt extremely small in front of his Master.

  That’s maybe why he is my Master, he thought, unable to take his eyes away from his master’s body.

  “Marcus Tiberius, what a surprise to see you here. Are you relaxing after yesterday’s party?” a man asked, coming in their direction. Saul recognized Claudia’s father.

  Lucius Claudius observed, “This is the slave who offended my daughter. He should be punished rather than brought to enjoy himself,”

  “He didn’t offend your daughter in any way, and I can testify because I saw the incident,” Marcus Tiberius protested.

  “We’ll see about that. Let’s move to the frigidarium.”

  “Did you notice what happened?” Marcus Tiberius asked Lucius Claudius as they walked into another room.

  Saul followed them, goosebumps forming on his flesh as the temperature rapidly decreased.

  “I didn’t see, but Claudia told me that he offended her by garnering all the attention to himself.”

  “She asked him to sing, and he obeyed. If he has a charming voice, it should be taken as good entertainment, not as a way of offending,” Marcus Tiberius suggested.

  The man addressed Saul, spite evident in his tone, “What do you have to say?”

>   “I am truly sorry if I offended Mistress Claudia. I just obeyed her orders. Please forgive me if I displeased her,” Saul replied, keeping his eyes down.

  “Well, no matter. You will learn how to respect your Masters once you serve in Claudia’s family,” Lucius Claudius said.

  “I am not defending my slave, and generally, I am the first to punish them if they misbehave, but this time there were no reasons,” Saul’s Master said, with a slightly altered tone.

  “You are too kind to your slaves, or perhaps this one is special to you…” A sly smile twisted the attorney’s lips.

  “Maybe yes, or maybe not. I have experienced that if you treat your slaves fairly, they serve you better and will never find any reason to grow anger against you. Saul is surely a special one, but not the way you think.”

  Lucius Claudius glanced at Saul, wondering about that little slave.

  “Yesterday it was an important day for everybody, perhaps we all overreacted, and need still time to see things from the right perspective. Since I was not there at the moment of the incident, I cannot express any opinion.”

  “I understand, and maybe Claudia was too stressed about the engagement. I believe it is a big step and I have underestimated the toll it takes on the mood of a person,” Marcus Tiberius admitted, inhaling deeply, enjoying the cold water of the pool.

  Lucius Claudius nodded, “Marcus Tiberius, we’ll meet again for the ceremony in the future.”

  “Of course, have a good day, please greet Claudia and your wife. It has been a pleasure to have you in our home.”

  “Certainly, and greet your wife and Flavius too,” Lucius Claudius replied as he started to walk away.

  “Let’s go, Saul, I feel a bit tired.”

  Saul was glad they were leaving that cold pool and getting back into their clothes.

  The walk back home was quieter than the journey there. Tiredness overwhelmed their minds and bodies after the bath.

  “Are you hungry?” Marcus Tiberius asked.

  “Yes,” Saul said.

  “Here is a tavern. Come,” Marcus Tiberius pointed with a finger.

  The place looked clean and well-kept, and a pleasant smell of food came from the kitchen. Saul looked around. This was not the kind of place he used to go with the others in his free time. That one was constantly filled with smoke coming from braziers; the tables and floor were seldom cleaned, and the old wood was patched or burned, although the food was not bad and the host was kind.

  From behind the desk, a corpulent man with thinning hair walked with energic steps to greet them. “Welcome to my tavern. How may I serve you?”

  “I’d like something to eat. This is my slave; feed him too. Treat him right. I need him in good shape today.”

  “But, of course. Please take a seat.” He gestured to Saul. “You, come with me.”

  The man led Saul to a room in the back of the tavern.

  “Sit there, and I’ll bring you something.” He gestured at a wooden bench in front of a table covered with remains of bones and decaying food, surrounded by flies and bugs.

  “I am sorry, but I can’t sit there. It is too dirty, and my clothes will be unacceptable to accompany my Master.”

  “You can stand for all I care,” said the host, disappearing into another room.

  Saul looked around. The vile odor of something he could not identify assaulted his nostrils, forcing him to clench them. He approached the table, then clamped his hand across his mouth and nose. The stench emanated from there. It smelled like a decaying animal. With a grimace, he thought about the quality of the food, not for his Master, but for himself.

  After several minutes, the host and another servant emerged from the kitchen. The host went to give food to his Master, and the servant placed a bowl full of unidentifiable muck on the table. Without saying anything or looking at him, he disappeared back from where whence he came.

  Saul picked up the bowl and examined the contents, but he could not recognize for sure any of the ingredients. He decided to eat standing up, so at least he wouldn’t dirty the tunic.

  The host returned from the restaurant side, toughened his expression into a despising grin as he glanced Saul.

  Saul didn’t react.

  He considered throwing away the gruel rather than to eat it, but hunger won out. He picked up the spoon and took a tentative bite.

  The food was not nearly as awful as it looked; it was far worse. He fought the urge to gag, then forced himself to try another spoonful. His Master wanted him to eat. The reaction to his second bite was predictable, if not what he’d hoped for. He vomited behind the bench, realizing that other slaves might have had the same misfortune

  The host reappeared chuckling as he watched Saul puking. “Didn’t like your food, Slave?”

  Saul looked at him. “What do you think? What did you give me?”

  “That was slave’s food. If you didn’t like it, you should not have eaten it. Anyway, your Master is ready to go.”

  Saul followed him in silence. He knew complaining was useless, and he felt weary.

  He wanted to return home and be with his Master, to forget that tavern.

  “Saul, are you sick?” Marcus Tiberius glanced at him with questioning eyes.

  “I... no. I just feel tired, I guess.”

  Marcus Tiberius glared at the host. “What you have given him to eat? I told you to treat him right,” and glanced at him.

  Saul’s tired expression, together with the ill facial features given by the food he ate, made him look miserable.

  “I gave him the same food as you.”

  “You are lucky we are both dead tired and not in the mood for discussions.” Marcus Tiberius turned his back to the host and guided Saul out of the restaurant.

  The last thing Marcus Tiberius wanted was to argue with a host about food, and he knew it was generally no use. They always have a way to turn the facts to their advantage. He looked at Saul as they trudged home, side by side.

  He put his arm around Saul’s shoulders to console him. He knew it was a lousy meal, that it was one intended for slaves.

  Saul was not just a slave; he was the most graceful creature Marcus Tiberius had ever seen, and his mildness made him even more precious. He wondered if he was sent by the gods as a gift, or if he were a god in disguise. Whatever the truth, would they be displeased by the fact that I gave him to my son?

  When they reached their house in the late afternoon. Marcus Tiberius dismissed Saul and went to his room to rest and to think. He sat on a couch and closed his eyes. The rustling of a garment alerted him to someone entering his room. He opened his eyes and saw his wife.

  She smoothed his brow with cool fingers. “Are you tired?”

  “Yes. It has been a long party, and not the easiest one, I am afraid.” he gently held her hand and kissed her graceful fingers.

  “Indeed, and poor Saul. I saw him going to the slaves’ room looking so sad. For him, it must have been a terribly difficult evening.” she said, sitting near Marcus Tiberius.

  “I don’t know what I should do anymore. My son thinks I am favoring Saul, and this morning, he became violent toward him out of pure jealousy. Where have I gone wrong? Please, Flaminia, I need your advice.” Desperation laced his voice.

  She held his hand and smiled. “Flavius needs time to understand it. Remember how you felt when your father announced to you your engagement? I was terrified. I was fourteen when I met you for the first time, and I didn’t know what to expect. I was lucky to find such a devoted husband as you. We thought of his career more than his possible relationship with Claudia, but I think she likes him. She needs time.” Her fingers worried a crease in her dress. “I find her behavior inappropriate, but she is still young and perhaps also nervous.” She ran her fingers through his hair and stood. “I will try to talk to Flavius. Maybe I can ease the bitterness in his heart.”

  “I hope he won’t hate me,” he said, kissing her hand.

  “He won’t. I will go ta
lk to him right away.” Flaminia stood walked to the door.

  He closed his eyes, hoping to find relief in sleep.

  Flavius was in his room, trying to rest when his mother came in.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  “Fine, I guess. Mother, I misbehaved with both my father and our guests. Maybe also with Claudia.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Of course not. I know I have been unfair toward Saul as well,” Flavius admitted, averting his gaze away from her.

  “Flavius, what makes you so full of anger?”

  “I think I am jealous of Saul. Since he arrived in this house, it seemed that everything revolved around him. Father was always with Saul, and he thought to protect his precious slave from Claudia, but not his son.”

  Flaminia took his hand in both of hers. “Do you seriously think your father is more affectionate to Saul than to you? They are always together because he needs him for his work, and concerning Claudia, aren’t you overreacting? I know you don’t like her, but you don’t need to be saved. She is not a monster. I saw how she looked at you when you behaved coldly. Her expression was that of a woman who loves someone who doesn’t feel the same for her.

  “She behaved badly toward Saul, but this could be a result of her frustration. Please, be courteous and try to understand that there is no conspiracy against you. What we do is only for your own good, and Saul is not stealing your father's attention. It couldn't be that you are jealous because Saul is spending more time with your father than with you?” she dared.

  Flavius glanced at her but didn’t reply immediately. He thought about what she said. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wanted Saul for himself. It could be that I am overreacting and, indeed, my behavior was childish. I should feel ashamed for crying like that at the first difficulty.

  He glanced at her. “You might be right, and I am sorry I hit Saul. I owe an apology to him as well. I am envious that he is younger, and not only better educated than I am, but also wiser and more mature. Beside his perfection, I see how imperfect I am. Father thinks he might be sent by the gods to teach us a lesson. What do you think?”