Nevertheless, she now had a strapping son. He’d called her ‘Mother’ and it pleased her, I could see. ‘Perhaps I should find a litter for you,’ he went on. ‘There is to be a banquet for us all at Marcus’s villa tonight, and you will want to get home and prepare.’
I shook my head. ‘Junio, you are not a slave,’ I said. ‘If we want transport, we will find a hiring carriage that will take all three of us. And Cilla too, if she is still about.’
‘Here, master!’ Cilla was at my elbow, flourishing a fish. ‘I was only over at the fish market buying this, but they had so many good fish in the pool that it took me a little moment to decide. I’m sorry, master. The mistress sent me, but I did not mean to leave her unattended for so long.’
I nodded. Cilla was my wife’s attendant slave, given to me some little time ago by Marcus Septimus in return for a favour I had done for him. She was a plump, resourceful little thing, and Gwellia was very fond of her. And so, I knew, was my adopted son, who was looking at her with approval now.
It was mutual. She looked him up and down. ‘My word, Master Junio, you look so elegant,’ she said. ‘You are so Roman in that toga, I hardly dare to speak.’ It was nonsense, though. Cilla would have chattered cheerfully to Jupiter himself, if he had happened to appear in Glevum.
‘There will be time enough for compliments a little later on,’ I said. ‘After the banquet, when we get back to it. In the meantime we should go and find that cart.’
Cilla had turned a charming shade of pink. She knew exactly what I was referring to. The banquet had been arranged by Marcus for his Roman guest, and my little family had been invited too. It was a kind of triple compliment to us — a token of respect and thanks for me, a celebration for Junio, and an opportunity for me to informally emancipate the girl, by announcing before the assembled company of Roman citizens that Cilla was now free and inviting her to join us for the final course. It was all the ceremony needed to free a female slave.
‘I can’t believe it, master. Me, at such a feast! With Lucius Julianus there as well. And the mistress has given me such a pretty gown.’
I grinned. No doubt Lucius Julianus would look disdainfully at us, but Marcus was such a power now that an invitation to his table was an honour to be sought, however lowly the other guests might be. ‘Then, when you and Junio are wed, I hope you remember who made it possible and are duly grateful to His Excellence. I don’t have the wealth and contacts to host such a feast myself — nor the servants either, especially after this!’
Gwellia nodded. ‘There is only little Kurso to run the household now.’ She said it ruefully. Poor Kurso’d had a dreadful master when he was young, and could still move faster backwards than forwards. He had come to us as a kitchen slave but he was so nervous and clumsy that he was not much use at all, except outdoors. He was happy enough caring for the animals and plants, but in the house he was a liability — likely to drop what he was carrying if you spoke to him. He had already cost me a great many bowls.
Junio must have read my thoughts. ‘Don’t worry, master — Father, I should say — Cilla and I will be living very close to you. The lady Julia has arranged for us to have that piece of land so we can build a roundhouse just next to yours. And it won’t be long before we can begin. She’s already had the standing timber removed, and she’s sending a group of land slaves to clear the site today.’
I nodded. ‘She mentioned it to me. Cilla was her personal servant once, she said, and this is to be a sort of dowry, I suppose. It’s very generous of her.’
‘She has never forgotten that you saved her life. And Marcus would be fairly easy to persuade. The land is only forest — he won’t miss that small piece,’ my wife said wryly, adding with a smile. ‘It’s just the kind of gift your patron would approve. Something generous which didn’t cost him anything at all.’
I knew what she meant. I have received a number of such gifts before, including my own roundhouse and young Cilla herself. My patron has made a habit of asking for my help in matters which might otherwise be politically embarrassing, but refuses to ‘insult’ me, as he says, by offering me money for my services. As his business always takes me from my own, it was an insult I could easily have borne.
I laughed. ‘Well, I am grateful that Junio and Cilla will be next door to us. Though we shall have to think about another slave, I suppose. We can’t expect these two to go on serving us — though I suppose that Cilla might go on ahead right now, and try to find a carriage for us at the gates.’ It would have to be outside the walls, of course. Wheeled traffic is not permitted in the city during the hours of daylight, except for military purposes.
Cilla dimpled. ‘That won’t be necessary, master. It’s already done. And here are your messengers to tell you so.’
I glanced up. Threading their way through the assorted throng, dodging round the leather merchant and the live eel stall, were the two red-headed slaves who had presented Junio with his garments earlier. I knew the lads: one of Marcus’s carefully selected ‘pairs’ — servants matched for colouring and height; a piece of conspicuous extravagance with which he dazzled visitors to his country house. Except that these two, being rather young, were no longer properly a pair at alclass="underline" the younger of them, Minimus, was quickly outstretching his older counterpart.
It was Minimus now who came panting up to me. ‘We have found you a carriage, master. .’ he began.
‘Waiting for you at the southern gate,’ Maximus chimed in, out of breath after catching up: they often talked like this, one of them completing what the other had begun, as if they’d worked together for so long that they shared a single thought.
‘Thank you.’ I reached into my toga for my purse, and remembered, too late, that I had given it away. It didn’t matter for the carriage, I had money at the house, but I had nothing with me now with which to tip the slaves. ‘I’ll see you at the villa later on,’ I said. ‘I’ll give you something then.’
Maximus looked sideways at his fellow slave, who shrugged expressively, and turned back to me. ‘Didn’t His Excellence tell you, citizen? We are to serve you, while he’s overseas. .’
‘He says you are losing a couple of your slaves and will be glad of someone. .’
‘And since he’s closing up the house, he would only have had to sell us otherwise. .’
‘So we found your carriage for you, and now here we are!’ Minimus finished, with a triumphant air.
I looked at Gwellia, and she looked at me. It seemed that we’d acquired a pair of household slaves, though not perhaps the ones we would have chosen for ourselves. These lads would not be skilled in cookery, or used to cutting wood and the general rough and tumble of a roundhouse life. They were accustomed to the villa with its exquisite ways, and a whole hierarchy of slaves to do the menial tasks. But Marcus had arranged this, and I could not refuse.
‘Very well then, my temporary slaves. You may lead the way,’ I said, and we trooped across the forum and out into the street.
‘There is your carriage, master,’ Maximus began, indicating a hiring coach with leather curtains and a roof, and one of those devices on the wheels which counts the miles.
I hesitated. I prefer to make a bargain for the trip before we start — I am not convinced that these devices, clever as they are, don’t sometimes calculate more miles than they should. Perhaps it was as well that I demurred. A moment later and I would have missed the arrival of a flustered Kurso, perched on Marcus’s land cart by the look of it.
‘M-m-master,’ Kurso stammered, before he had even properly climbed down. ‘I am g-g-glad to see you. Your p-p-patron’s wife sent us. You must come at once.’ He flung himself before me. ‘They have f-f-found something in the g-g-ground that they were clearing for J-Junio and Cilla’s house.’