“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.