Red ribbons bound the dark hair gathered on his head; his tunic fitted along his body following its immature yet perfect proportions.
It was as if the gods came down to celebrate that boy with their gifts. Apollo gave him the delicate beauty of his youth, Venus the grace, and the torches of the underworld proudly burning in his black eyes were the precious gifts of Orcus.
Marcus walked toward him as if mesmerized. He felt caught in a spell, unable to take his eyes away from him. “Leave us alone…” he said, as if in a trance, and the two female slaves silently left the room.
Saul felt Marcus Tiberius' eyes upon him and fought the urge to squirm. He couldn’t exactly define his feelings. He wasn’t scared; perhaps the unpredictability of what was going to happen made him nervous.
Marcus Tiberius caressed Saul’s face, from his cheek to his chin, and gently raised it to meet his eyes. “You look almost scared, Saul. Do I scare you?”
“No, Master. I am confused. I guess I have to learn what my place is from this moment onwards,” struggling with the urge to avoid Marcus’ eyes.
“I’m not cruel to my slaves, but I think I understand your feelings. You have been in contact with our culture, so slavery should be something known to you.”
Switching languages, he released the boy’s chin.
He knew he could have checked at least his languages skills at the market, but he felt being rushed by the merchant and overlooked that chance
“You said you can speak Greek.”
“Yes, Master, I have been learning Hellenic language and culture since I was four years old,” he replied promptly being confident about the level of his education, with a bright smile on his face.
Marcus Tiberius smirked. “Very well, you spoke the truth, and I appreciate that,” and he walked away from him to the other side of the room where there was a wooden bench.
Saul remained in silence, observing every move of his Master until he sat down.
“Saul, come here and take a seat,” he ordered gesturing toward the floor.
Saul walked toward him and sat at his feet, looking up to meet his eyes.
“I bought you because, for some reason, you impressed me at the market. As soon as I saw your beauty today, I realized I made an excellent choice, but I need more than that,” Marcus Tiberius explained. “From you, I need the skills you’ve shown me, and I need loyalty. I don’t know if I have that from you. Loyalty to me under any circumstances. I must be able to trust you with my life. Without that, you are useless to me.”
Saul thought he could understand the point of his request, and in the market, he had felt the crazy desire to be owned by Marcus Tiberius; he had wanted to be bought by him.
“Master, I don’t know how I can convince you; I will do whatever it takes to serve you at my best. However, I am only a boy, and I know nothing about slavery.”
Marcus Tiberius smiled at that simple, innocent, and sincere answer and felt in his heart that he hadn’t made a mistake when he decided to buy him.
“Saul, you are going to become an essential tool in my work; moreover, my son has suffered much, missing a companion, and your role with him will be just as important. I will not accept a single fail on that.”
He paused, staring into Saul’s eyes, trying to understand whether he would be worth his trust or not. “Your tasks will include helping me with translations and accompanying me during my trips as I might need an interpreter. You will continue your education so your skills will improve, and you can be more helpful. Concerning my son, Flavius, he is a bit older than you, but I believe he will appreciate the presence of someone of about his age in this household.”
Saul listened to his Master in silence, nodding from time to time to let him know that he was paying attention.
Marcus Tiberius caressed his face. “You are only a boy, Saul, but you are smart, and I understand you have been born as a free man. I want you to see me not only as your Master but also as a guide. Now come with me; we are going to meet my wife, Flaminia,” he said, taking his hand in his own.
They walked through the house to the same garden he had walked through from the bath.
As they approached the Mistress with the small group of slaves from earlier, she rose with a warm smile and walked to meet her husband.
“Who is this little child?” Flaminia asked, considering Saul from head to toes.
“His name is Saul, and he is my new slave; I bought him this morning. He is going to help me with my job and will accompany me on business trips. I thought that he could, as well, be a good companion for Flavius.” He glanced at both the boy and his wife.
She caressed the boy’s hair. “How old are you, Saul?”
“I am eleven, Mistress.”
At that answer, her expression turned serious, almost worried as she peered at Marcus Tiberius. “Isn’t he too young?” she asked, concerned.
“The merchant certainly didn’t share your opinion. He might be young, but he is smart. I believe he can adapt to his new life as a slave quickly enough. As a companion for Flavius, it is better if he is young. You are worrying excessively,” he replied with a careless tone in his voice, trying to hide the turmoil agitating his soul since that slave came into his life.
She turned her face toward Saul, then again to her husband, not entirely convinced by his reasoning.
“Leave us alone, please. I want to know him better,” she said, looking at her husband. She put her arm around Saul’s shoulder, and guided him away, leaving the other slaves continuing their work, without waiting for Marcus Tiberius’ answer.
She sat on a bench, allowing Saul to sit at her feet and, with a quiet expression, considered him. “Tell me something about you, Saul.”
He raised his gaze up at her and tried to collect his thoughts. “I honestly don’t know what to say, Mistress. I was born into a wealthy family. My father was a textile merchant, and my mother took care of my little sister and me. He hired a teacher from Greece, who taught me the Hellenic and Latin languages. I have always been fascinated by your culture and by the power of Rome, but I never expected I would be part of it. Concerning my feelings…I don’t know what to say. The only thing certain in my mind is that my life is never going to be the same.”
“My husband was right. You speak with wiser words than a child’s. I am confident you will soon find in your heart the answers to your questions, Saul.” She caressed his dark hair.
“Do you still have a family? You said that you had a father, a mother, and a sister. Where are they now?”
“They were at the auction with me; I hope that my sister will be sold with my mother.” He beseeched her with wide eyes.
Afraid of what the answer would be, he asked, “Mistress, is it possible for a five-year-old girl to be sold without her mother?”
She shifted her gaze away from him, searching for the right words, unsure of what she should say to make him feel better.
Certainly, she knew there wasn’t a particular age to be sold as a slave, but she didn’t want to upset the boy.
“I don’t know for sure, but don’t you worry; everything will be fine, Saul,” she replied, trying to be diplomatic in her answer.
In her heart, she knew she was not quite telling him the truth, and generally, with other slaves, she wouldn’t have much cared. However, she felt uncomfortable in front of that child, who meekly accepted his slave status with courage and dignity, asking for certainties she could not grant.
His eyes, looking at her as if to ask for mercy; his young age, his beauty, and his innocence were something she could not resist.
“You are really beautiful, you know that? We should take care of this precious gift, and this red ribbon is truly lovely with your dark hair,” she said, changing the topic.