Skaia (7 page)

“
Good.” Castor waited until Gotus had helped Skaia up, had wrapped him in his blanket, and had settled back down with the child in his arms. “He’s just a boy, Gotus,” Castor said more kindly. “And the master whipped him today.”

After Castor left, Gotus spoke quietly in Skaia’s ear. “I know you don’t understand me. But you hurt all of us when you keep us up at night. I had to do this.”

Skaia started to tremble, and Gotus held him tighter. “It’s alright, now,” he whispered. “It’s over. I won’t hurt you.” Another voice rang out, telling Gotus to be quiet. He stopped talking, but rubbed Skaia’s side gently until the boy was still.

When the youngster’s breathing evened out, Gotus sincerely hoped Skaia slept. And he closed his own eyes again, waiting for sleep to take him as well.

III

The cell door was unlocked, and all the slaves inside the little room awoke immediately. At first, Skaia was surprised to find himself in someone’s arms. And then he remembered the events of the night. He had cried again and Gotus had complained to Castor. Castor had punished him… and then told Gotus to hold him.

Why he had done that, Skaia didn’t know, but it had been comforting, even worth the punishment, to be touched so kindly, to be held protectively. As Gotus got up, Skaia twisted his head to watch him. “Thank you, sir,” he whispered. “Did I… be quiet?”

Gotus hesitated, wishing he could explain. “Yes, Skaia, you were fine. I’m sorry I complained. I’m sorry you were whipped… ” He remembered the child’s nightmares over the past weeks and thought he should have offered solace without Castor’s instruction—even if the others in their cell ridiculed him. “Now that we know it helps, I’ll hold you at night. With luck, your bad dreams will be held at bay.”

Skaia understood little of what Gotus said, except that, by his tone he obviously meant to be encouraging. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“
Get up now, Skaia. Get dressed. We have to eat and get to work.”

“
Yes, sir.” Skaia stood on shaky legs, and picked up his tunic. He hadn’t folded it properly when he’d taken it off, and now it was badly wrinkled. Once he’d pulled it on, he looked down at himself in dismay. One of the few things Castor had made sure he understood was that he must always care for his clothes. He knew Castor would notice and was almost sure he would be punished again. After Thaddeus’ beating yesterday, and Castor’s last night… he was desperately afraid.

On the way upstairs to the kitchen, Skaia hid as best he could behind Gotus. When they arrived, though, Gotus took his usual seat and Skaia moved to his. He sat quietly, not taking anything from the plates that were passed.

In time, Castor looked at him and frowned. “You look awful, Skaia. You know better, don’t you? Your clothes must always look neat.”

“
Yes, sir. I know. I sorry.” Skaia’s blue eyes brightened with tears as he looked up.

Castor shook his head sadly. In their final discussion of the night, Thaddeus had not only given him the
right
to punish the child—but the responsibility to discipline him. To make sure he was obedient and ready for Glaucus. “Get up, Skaia. Remove your tunic and brace against the wall.”

Skaia looked at him. He wanted to protest. To beg. But he knew that arguing would not be tolerated and would only make Castor angrier. He had watched the others in those first days after arriving here. They always folded their clothes neatly before they wrapped themselves in their blankets to sleep. He’d just been too upset last night to remember. He’d been careless. For such a lapse, his father might have punished him, too. Though never in public—and not with a whip.

By now, he had seen many of the other slaves punished. It was almost a daily occurrence that someone made a mistake, and the consequences were always the same. The slave would remove his tunic and lean with his hands braced against the wall, as Castor had instructed him last night. All the other slaves had just accepted it, taken their punishment silently and then gone about their duties. And Castor was seldom harsh. On some level, Skaia understood that he was just doing his own duty.

The youngster lowered his eyes, willing himself to stand. He pulled his tunic over his head, and, after taking a deep breath, put his small hands against the wall.

To everyone’s surprise, Gotus stood up and protested. “He’s just a little boy. You said so yourself, Castor.”

“
Do you want to join him, Gotus?” Castor asked sharply.

“
No, sir.” Gotus sat again, remembering clearly why sympathy for others was frowned upon.

Nodding, Castor picked up his strap. He looked at Skaia’s back. The marks from the prior day’s beating were still visible. There were a few scabs from cuts Thaddeus had made, but nothing likely to scar. He struck quickly three times and none of the blows hard. Skaia jerked slightly with each blow, but made no sound.

Castor was satisfied, and looked at Gotus, his brows raised in question. Gotus canted his head and a ghost of a smile reached his eyes. Castor had made his point, but had not been severe. “That’s all, Skaia,” Castor said softly, encouraged by the change in the boy’s attitude. “Put your tunic back on.”

Skaia looked at Castor when he was dressed, his little hands smoothing down his wrinkled tunic. “I still… awful.”

Castor made sure his face was stern. “Yes, you still look awful. But you’ll be doing different work today. It won’t matter.” He proceeded to hand out tasks to all the household men still gathered around.

Gotus was given the job of showing Skaia how to scrub floors. He nodded and left to pick up supplies, touching Skaia’s arm and telling the boy to come with him.

Some of the outdoor torches were still lit and it was in their vicinity that Gotus chose to start. “We’ll be able to see better when the sun is fully up,” he told Skaia, but it was clear the child did not understand. Still, Skaia watched him closely and imitated his actions, scouring each tile carefully, determined not to be found lacking today.

When a young boy appeared in the atrium, holding a lamp, Gotus touched Skaia’s arm and whispered, “Thaddeus’ son, Glaucus, on his way to lessons. He will be your new master.”

Skaia looked at Gotus in confusion. “Not understand.
New
master?”

“
On his birthday.” Gotus sighed softly in frustration when it was obvious Skaia didn’t understand. “Castor will explain it,” he finally muttered and wet his brush again.

Turning his attention back to the floor, Skaia thought about the little boy Gotus had pointed out. A child younger than he was, a new master? He couldn’t comprehend the idea.
Surely Roman children were not given slaves?
Skaia glanced up one more time to see this child leave the domus, accompanied now by an older slave.

By late morning, Skaia had finished the scrubbing in the atrium. Though he’d seen the large space often when he swept around the perimeter, this was the first time he’d been allowed
in
it and had the opportunity to examine it closely. The floor was made of tiles that were very smooth and well fitted. The area under the open roof was a mosaic picture of birds and plants. In spite of his aching knees, the boy felt at it, amazed at its intricate workmanship.

He was looking at the finely sculpted columns that held up the roof when Gotus came for him. He hoped desperately that his work was done, but Gotus explained he must now do the stone walkways in the peristylium.

This was yet another area of the domus that Skaia had not seen before. Large and open to the sky in the private section, it was where the rest of the masters had their own chambers. After receiving his new orders, Skaia reluctantly picked up his bucket and brush and left the atrium to continue working.

He had just finished with the pathway to the peristylium when he encountered the old master, Thaddeus’ father, kneeling in the dirt of the garden with his slave at his side. Skaia was not sure if he should continue working, or if his presence would disturb them. And he was afraid to ask. But Paulinus looked up and waved him over. “Do you remember me, Skaia?” He noticed immediately that the boy seemed to freeze, and that he was afraid to answer. He deliberately softened his voice. “It’s fine if you don’t. I won’t be angry.”

Skaia felt relief wash over him. “I sorry, Master. I remember you be… you be Master Thaddeus’ father. I not remember name.” He dipped his head in embarrassment. “I sorry, sir.”

The other slave was standing now and started to step forward, but Paulinus stopped him, and instead reached out himself to lift the child’s chin. “I am Paulinus. And this is my slave, Lucius.” When he saw the obvious fear in those dark blue eyes, he added kindly, “We won’t hurt you. You don’t need to be afraid of us.”

The boy seemed to relax. “Thank you, Master Paulinus, sir. I… I be pleased to meet you, sir.” He shifted his eyes to look at Lucius. “And you, sir.”

Paulinus laughed softly, amused at the odd pronunciation of his name. He found this youngster totally endearing. “Can you bring your bucket? We need to water the plants.”

Skaia turned immediately, careful to avoid the plants, and lifted the bucket. “Water dirty,” he almost whispered as Lucius reached out to take it.

“
It doesn’t matter,” Lucius chuckled. “We’ll be using it in the dirt.” He knelt again and started to pour small amounts on the ground around the plants he and Paulinus had just moved.

Skaia watched them work silently. He knew his mother had always used her scrub water and wash water in her garden. But he wasn’t sure how the Romans might feel about doing the same. He was glad to see there might be some commonality; it made him feel just slightly less strange in this new place.

When Paulinus looked up again, he was pleased to see something other than fear on the small face. But he wondered how Thaddeus was able to whip the child.
Did he not see how much Skaia was like Glaucus?
Even as the thought occurred to him, Paulinus pushed it from his mind. Slaves were different from free men. And when he had given up leadership of his family to his son, he had given up the right to make such choices. Thaddeus was the one who must make this boy ready to serve his grandson. And he couldn’t interfere.

Still, he had Skaia assist him for several minutes with the plants and regretted that he had to set the boy back to scrubbing. “Lucius, show Skaia where to get fresh water. He must complete his work.”

Skaia looked from one to the other and realized his respite was over. Lucius looked distressed about the order, but he obeyed without questioning. And Skaia followed him with the now empty bucket.

By the time Skaia had finished the walkways in the peristylium, his knees ached horribly, and he was almost overjoyed to see Gotus approach. He pushed himself to his feet. “I finish, sir.”

Gotus looked around to be sure the work was acceptable. When he determined it was satisfactory, he smiled at the small slave. “You’ve done well, Skaia. Come with me now. Castor has someone for you to meet.”

To meet?
Skaia almost stumbled he was so surprised.

Castor was waiting at the entrance to the kitchen and sent Gotus on to his next task, but he stopped Skaia. “Go wash yourself and put on clean clothes.” When Skaia just looked at him, he asked the boy if he understood.