Aquila Et Noctua Read online

  Saul looked at him and sighed.

  “Are you still hungry, son?” Caleb asked, looking at the empty bowl.

  “No, thanks, it was enough.” Saul rose from the chair almost impatiently, eager to meet Flavius.

  “Then I guess there is nothing left to do but bring you back to Mistress Flaminia.”

  “Are you a warrior?” Saul asked.

  The corners of Caleb’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “I’m not a warrior, but I take care of the security of the household, coordinating a group of other guards.”

  “You are so big.”

  “It is not me who’s big; it is you who is tiny, my puny friend.”

  They walked back to the garden, where Flaminia awaited them sitting on the same bench, enjoying the fair weather. “That was fast. Have you eaten already?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mistress, thank you.”

  Caleb was dismissed and Flaminia guided Saul through the rooms of the house. Until they arrived at a room, where a boy read by the light of several oil lamps that illuminated the area.

  Saul’s first impression was that his Master had his thoughts focused somewhere else, as he tapped his finger against the wood of the table. On the other hand, maybe the topic might have been somewhat difficult.

  As they came in, he raised his head, looking at his mother and Saul with questioning eyes, “Who’s the boy, Mother?”

  “He is your father’s new slave, purchased this morning, and he will serve as his translator on his trips.”

  Flavius eyeballed Saul. “He must be pretty educated. How old are you?”

  “I am eleven, Master,” Saul kept his eyes low.

  “Eleven? Mother, he is just a child. I am thirteen, and even if I tried my hardest, I could never act as an interpreter, and to translate from Greek takes me forever. Which other languages do you speak?”

  “Greek and Aramaic. The last one is my mother tongue, Master.”

  “Very impressive.” Flavius walked around Saul, considering him from head to feet. “Do you also have a name, Slave, or do we have to figure out one for you?”

  “Master, my name is Saul,” he replied, feeling like he was again on the market, ready to be sold.

  “I like your name, Saul, and I like how you look. You are beautiful. Did Cassandra use one of her ribbons to hold your hair? She is our only slave who likes to keep her hair combed like that. I like it.”

  Flavius lifted one hand to caress his cheek. “Your skin is very soft and nicely tanned; is it always that way?” He turned to Flaminia. “Mother, may we spend some time alone?”

  She nodded and left the room in silence.

  As she departed, Flavius returned his focus to Saul, “So, now that we are alone, tell me something about you,” he ordered.

  “What do you want to know, Master?”

  “Hmm. Where are you from?”

  Saul started to tell him about his family and the education he received, “When the revolt started, we were forced to leave our house and take refuge with my uncle in a nearby village. We hoped we could hide there until the end of the conflict, but we were captured and brought to Rome to be sold as slaves.”

  “Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Flavius asked, interested.

  “Yes, I have a younger sister; she is five years old and very dear to me,” Saul gasped.

  “I guess it would be nice to have a sister or a brother. Being the only son is not as good as one might think; it gets kind of lonely,” Flavius said, taking a pause. “So, you are a Jew.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “I see. Well, I have no problems with it, but you’d better not make it public, or you might get in trouble,” Flavius warned.

  Flavius considered what else he might like to know about the new slave. “Do you know if your parents were already planning to find you a girl to marry?”

  “No, Master; I can’t say. I think I am kind of young for that. In my country, a man gets married when he is about thirty years old, and anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore.” Bitterness colored Saul’s voice.

  Flavius continued explaining, “once, I heard my parents talking about that. I’ve never thought about girls and, at the moment, I'm not interested anyway. I like them, but I’ve never thought about them in that way, especially, I never thought about marriage. I would be afraid my father would choose a girl I don’t like. I’d want a wife like my mother; she is kind and sweet, and my parents got along pretty well.”

  Saul looked at him and smiled, lowering his gaze. He liked the way Flavius talked to him like a friend rather than a Master. This comforted him, but it also scared him. He was afraid that if Flavius continued to treat him that way, he couldn’t adjust to his position within the household, leading him to commit dangerous mistakes with the other Masters.

  “Maybe you are too young, but have you ever thought about girls?” Flavius wondered.

  “No, Master.” Saul pondered what he meant by that question.

  “What do you like to do, then?”

  “I can’t say, Master. When I was home, I enjoyed reading in the shade of the trees in our garden or riding horses.” He tried to remember those times, but those memories seemed already too far to be reached.

  “Then we have something in common. I like riding horses. Maybe we will go riding together sometime. Do you know if you have to go to school?”

  “Yes, your father wants me to continue my education so I can serve him better.”

  “I’m sorry for you; this means you will come to school with me. Our teacher is a good one, but he is too severe sometimes.”

  Flavius walked behind Saul, and placed his hands on his upper arms, then laid his chin on Saul’s shoulder whispering in his ear. “But something is not working between us, Saul.”

  The warm touch of Flavius’ breath against his neck gave a cold shiver along Saul’s spine and barely was able to move. “Did I disappoint you, Master? Please forgive me and let me know how I should behave,” Saul begged as his heart beat faster.

  Flavius turned him to look into his eyes. “Saul, when we are together, I wish you to stop calling me Master, please. My name is Flavius. I can’t see you as my friend if you continue to remind me that you are a slave here.”

  “But I am your slave.”

  “If you are my slave. you should obey my orders without questioning them.” Flavius grinned.

  “Yes, Master.” Saul felt unsure what Flavius meant.

  “Then, Slave, I order you to call me by my name when we are alone,” he stated with a victorious smile on his face.

  “As you order, Master,” Saul replied.

  Flavius cringed at him and gave him a gentle slap on his cheek. “I’m sorry, Flavius,” Saul lowered his head.

  “That’s better, Saul. Don’t forget it! I hope I haven’t hurt you.” Flavius disliked violence and couldn’t stop feeling guilty about hitting his new companion.

  “No, you didn’t hurt me, and you were right; I disobeyed you.”

  “So, if you are going to school, then you’ll probably start tomorrow. Generally, Rufus walks with me, carrying my tablets, but I’d prefer walking with you. You are a boy like me, and we might have more things to talk about. I like you, Saul.”

  “Thank you. I like you too, Flavius.”

  “When you smile, you look like an entirely different person, you know? You look better than when you are serious. Let’s go see Father, so we will know what his plans are for you.”

  They walked to the room where Marcus Tiberius was working. “Father, I’ve met your slave. Will he come to school with me? When is he going to start?” Flavius asked, excited.

  Marcus Tiberius raised his head to answer his son. “Yes, he will study with you starting tomorrow, then I don’t have any plans for him for the entire day so you can make use of him in the way you see fit. This will generally be the rule until I have other tasks for him, or until he has to travel with me.”

  As Flavius and his father spoke, the profound difference between them
became clear to Saul. One wanted a friend; the other had bought a slave and showed indifference and coldness toward him.

  It seemed to him that Marcus Tiberius was convinced of his slaves’ inferiority; he considered them his belongings as much as his clothes or his house. A bit more than his horses, but not nearly comparable to a human being. But he was fair and didn’t give him any reason to fear in his presence.

  Flavius, like his mother, treated the slaves mostly as servants, not as inferior creatures.

  “Father, I was thinking of riding horses in the woods after school. May I bring Saul with me? He told me he can ride.”

  “You may go tomorrow. As I said already, I don’t need him. The following day, Saul must work here immediately after school,” Marcus Tiberius said.

  Flavius clapped enthusiastically, glaring at his father and then at Saul who gazed at the floor in silence.

  “What do you think about it, Saul?” Flavius asked.

  “I... Thank you, Master,” he mumbled almost whispering curling his toes.

  Flavius noticed his discomfort and the change in Saul’s behavior in front of Marcus.

  Glancing at Saul’s moving foot, Marcus said, “Son, you can dismiss Saul if you don't need him anymore” and walked away from the room, leaving the boys alone.

  “He looks severe, but he is not evil,” Flavius tried to assure him. “Did somebody show you where you are going to sleep?”

  “No, not yet.”

  Flavius peeked out of the room to call somebody, and Caleb appeared. “Did you call, Master?”

  “Yes, show Saul where his sleeping quarters are. And show him the house. Be sure he won’t feel lost,” Flavius ordered.

  Caleb grasped the boy’s hand. “I’ll take care of him. Come with me. There are new clothes ready for you.”

  “How long have you served here?” Saul asked as they walked to the slaves’ quarters.

  “About fifteen years,” Caleb replied, his tone curt.

  “Have you served other Masters?”

  “I had another Master before coming here. I served him for ten years. When he died, I was again for sale.”

  “Do you still remember when you were free?” Saul asked.

  “I was born as a slave, but I guess, for people like you, it is better not to remember when you were free. It can be more of a curse than a relief. Maybe one day you will understand what I mean. You are too young, and you just became a slave.”

  Saul remained silent, considering whether he should try to forget about his family, his house, his hometown, his country, and everything he called home.

  As they arrived at a big room, he objected, “I don’t think I can forget about my mother, father, and my sister.”

  The room they entered was dim, but he could see beds divided by curtains.

  Through a tiny window opened at the top of the wall near the ceiling, he could see the sky darkening as the sunset.

  Caleb looked at the boy, trying to find the right words to say to the child. His duty, besides coordinating the guardians of the house, was to ensure that the slaves of the house behaved. If there were anything to be reported, he would inform his Master, and when the Master decided upon a punishment, Caleb was the one to administer it.

  He had never been responsible for children, and Marcus Tiberius hadn’t yet ordered him to mentor Saul to make sure that he would behave properly. He felt uncertain about how to behave with the boy.

  “Saul, it is impossible to forget about your family, but it is better not to think about it. You are a slave, and your life’s worth depends upon the service you deliver to your Master.”

  Saul looked down as tears filled his eyes.

  “Anyway, son, this is where you are going to sleep. Maybe you had better accommodations in your own home, but this is comfortable enough.” Caleb pointed him to a bed at the end of the room.

  It looked small and poorer in comparison to the one he had at home. There he had a room all for himself; the sheets and blanket were confectioned by his mother using the finest textiles his father was trading. From a larger window, he could see the neighbor’s fields. The floor was covered by a colorful carpet on the tones of red and white.

  However, as Caleb suggested, Saul shook his head to cast away that thought.

  On a bench beside the bed, Saul saw new clothing, neatly folded.

  “That is your new wardrobe. Since you will go to school, it is essential that you always have clean clothes to show your Master’s wealth and to show that he takes care of his slaves. Rufus will walk with you and Master Flavius. Whenever you need to know how you should behave, or you have any questions, you can ask me. In this way, you will avoid putting yourself in a situation which might lead to punishment,” Caleb warned in a stern tone frowning and crossing his arms on his chest.

  Saul looked at him and felt like his mind was blank. He was nothing but a tool to serve his Masters, and he remembered well what his teacher had told him about slavery in the Empire. He remembered many stories about cruelty, which he hadn’t seen so far in this house, and prayed that he would not.

  “Master Marcus Tiberius behaves justly toward us, but you shall never disobey or disappoint him, or you will face punishment. Even if I can't recall the last time, he did it, it is advisable not to dare your luck or his patience. When he has guests, he will show his best slaves to them, and I guess he will include you in this group. Give them all due respect as if they were your Master. Don't speak unless asked to do so, and don't attract too much attention; this might put your Master in a shady position and lead you to face his anger.” Caleb explained.

  Saul listened carefully; he knew the Romans were capable of extreme cruelty, and all that he wanted was to live in safety.

  “Thank you, Caleb, but concerning tomorrow, I think we can manage on our own to carry the tablets—I can manage.”

  “It will be heavy; you are so small…”

  “Let’s do it this way,” Saul interrupted. “If I find them heavy, then the following day, Rufus will help me. Otherwise, he can concentrate on other duties,”

  “You should discuss this with Rufus or Nana, who is the slave managing the house duties. Let’s eat before going to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and you need your rest.” He guided Saul to the kitchen.

  Chapter 3.

  They reached the kitchen where other slaves were already gathered for their meal.

  Saul recognized Cassandra and Nana and greeted them with a casual nod. Nana spoke first, “Look who’s here. Hello, Saul, how was your day? Have you met all of our Masters?” Nana asked.

  “Yes. I like Master Flavius. He has been very friendly to me; he treats me more like a friend than a slave. I am afraid that I might forget my position when I am with him.”

  Her spoon halfway to her mouth, Cassandra said, “You can’t imagine how much he missed having a companion his own age in the house. He is kind like his mother; we all love Mistress Flaminia. Master Marcus Tiberius scares me a bit, but he is fair with us.” Bitterness entered her voice. “He is a severe person, and he makes it clear we are nothing more than his belongings.”

  “Cassandra, don’t scare the boy; he is new. Saul, I am Tessa. Come eat something. Please sit down,” she said as she went to get food for him. Tessa worked as the main cook for the family and, together with Nana, she was one of the oldest slaves in the house. Everybody respected them for their experience in life’s matters. She was brought from the Celtic territories and sold as slave when she was just a child. Her memories of her free life faded away like shades in the mist.

  Saul scarfed down his meal eagerly. Despite his previous meal, he felt hungrier than he thought, and his stomach didn’t seem to be satisfied yet. As he reached the kitchen, his stomach started to rumble again.

  “That is what I call a healthy appetite, son. Don’t you worry, I’ll get you more,” Tessa said, noticing the empty plate.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know why. Generally, a light dinner is sufficient, but now I
feel so hungry.” Saul stuttered, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

  “Well, there is enough food in this house to calm your appetite,” Caleb laughed.

  “Thank you, but I think I am going to sleep. See you tomorrow?” Saul stood up from the chair.

  “Sure, Saul. I'll come to wake you up. You just try to sleep well tonight, by the way, my name is Rufus. I will walk with you and Master Flavius to school.”

  Rufus was a man on his thirties and was acquired by the family ten years before. He worked for Marcus Tiberius as a physician and had an ambulatory in the city, quite close to the house of Flavius’ teacher. His profession brought him to lose some of the empathy he had by nature. He knew that to be a good physician, one needs to be as distant as possible from the patient.

  “Isn’t he adorable? So young and sweet,” Nana said as she started to clean up before the arrival of the next group of slaves.

  “I am still a bit perplexed,” said Caleb, with a thoughtful expression on his face.

  “Why?” Nana asked.

  “Usually, for new ones like Saul, who have never been a slave, Master Marcus Tiberius puts me in command of their training. This time, I didn’t have any order from him. I'm wondering what he has in mind.”

  “Caleb, the boy has such a mild nature, it won’t be any problem for him to adapt to his position as a slave here. He realizes his status perfectly, and from my point of view, he doesn’t need any further training, as you call it.”

  “Hmm,” Caleb mumbled.

  Saul slowly undressed and went to bed. Yet the dormitory was empty as the other slaves, generally either helped with the final chores or entertained with each other in the kitchen. He felt tired, but sleep did not come to wipe away the sadness and loneliness inside his heart. In the silent darkness, his mind went unavoidably to his family. His father, his mother, his sister and, from there, to all the things that made up his life as he had known it.