Marcus Tiberius dismissed Saul, ordering him to go to the slaves’ quarters until he called him.
He left, knowing that he would be punished soon. Strangely, he felt gratitude for what would be, for him, the most valuable lesson in his slavery.
Marcus Tiberius entertained himself, surrounded by his beloved ones. Flaminia’s eyes were brightened by the presence of her husband. It was a relief to have him back at home safe and sound and ordered the slaves to bring food and wine.
When he was settled in his chair, Flavius asked, “How was your trip, Father?”
“It went well, and I am fully satisfied with Saul’s job.”
He moved his arms about casually as he talked, “I had the opportunity to have an interesting discussion with him, from which emerged information that he disrespected you, refusing your friendship.”
“Yes, Father, but this is not something I consider disrespectful. I am rather pleased with his honesty. I understand he is a slave, but he is also a boy younger than I am, who had to learn what his position was. I am not disappointed…I understand.”
“What I understand is, instead, that he misbehaved. For this reason, I condemned him to be punished with twenty lashes today in front of you,” he said, his lips tightening into a grim line.
Flavius couldn’t find any words to save his friend and looked at his father, shocked. His mind searched for a way to make his father reconsider his decision.
Why did Saul tell him about our deal? “Please, Father, don’t do that. I’ve asked him to be entirely honest with me, and he obeyed. He was not ready to accept the friendship I wanted to give; not yet. I understood and accepted that. Please, Father, don’t punish him. I behaved in the wrong way in the first place, so I am the one who deserves to be punished,” Flavius pleaded.
“He is a slave, and he has to learn his place. If no one else will teach him, then I will. This will be a lesson for you as well. I hope you learn what it means to be a Master and how you should deal with a slave. Now, I want you to go back to your room and wait for my call.”
Flavius left his father with tears in his eyes and walked to his room. He felt guilty, but also disappointed in Saul. The deal between them should not have been shared with anyone else. Maybe he deserves to be punished, but for a different reason. Maybe he deserves a double punishment, one from my father and one from me. The longer he thought about it, the more desperation set in.
“Do you think it was the right decision?” Flaminia asked Marcus Tiberius.
“You don’t understand how much this decision is hurting me, but it is a necessary one. The slave is confused and needs steady guidance to be able to commit himself totally to his new life. Oddly, it seems that the only one who understands my point of view is Saul himself; he accepted my decision with a lighter heart than any of you.”
“I am not questioning your decision; I know you never act cruelly; however, Saul is a boy. We've never punished any of our slaves like that. I am surprised by it, and Flavius shares my concern.” She placed her hand over his. “Twenty is a lot.”
“Sure, but necessary.” Marcus Tiberius frowned as he left the room, having had enough of empty, useless discussions.
He called Caleb and explained the situation so he could arrange the details. An hour later, Saul was brought to the garden with his wrists tied together and his torso naked. Caleb secured his wrists over his head, locking the rope over a branch of a tree.
Marcus Tiberius arrived immediately after with his wife and Flavius, whose eyes filled again with bitter tears.
He drew nearer. “Saul…why? Why have you told my father about our deal?” he whispered.
“He asked me the reason for the sudden change between us. I could not deny him the truth, but he is right; I am not in the position to tell you how to behave toward me,” he replied in a low tone of voice.
Flavius caressed his face, then slapped him. “You could have lied…” he said dryly.
“Should I lie to my Master? What kind of consequences should I expect after that?”
Flavius lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
Marcus Tiberius signaled to Caleb, who took the whip in his hand raised to the air and cringing, he stroke the first lash, cracking on Saul’s soft skin.
Saul’s eyes opened wide to the sudden burning pain, breaking his breath, making him unable to make any sound.
At each slash of his skin, Saul felt his flesh tear apart, along with his soul—and the final fragments of his freedom.
Hot tears flooded his eyes as he saw Flavius weeping.
After the fourth lash, the pain engulfed him, became unbearable. Unable to keep the pain, he screamed louder with each strike but refrained himself from begging his Master to stop.
Flaminia averted her face and tried to walk away, but Marcus Tiberius held her arm with a firm grasp.
“Don’t go. This is a lesson from which we all shall learn,” Marcus Tiberius said in a trembling voice.
“He is only a child,” she hissed.
“He is a slave,” he corrected.
The twentieth lash finally landed, leaving Saul’s back bleeding and aching to the deepest part of his soul. As Caleb freed his wrists, Saul fell to his hands and knees, unable to stand.
With the last fragment of his strength, he looked up at Flavius. “Please, Master. Forgive me.”
Flavius dropped to his knees and helped Saul to stand. “I am so sorry. I forgot to behave as a good Master, and this mistake brought you to be punished.”
Saul tried to smile.
Flavius looked at Rufus. “Take proper care of his wounds,” he said as Caleb took him in his arms.
“Yes, Master.”
Caleb carried Saul to the slaves’ room, and gently laid him on the bed, on his belly. Rufus would treat the wounds so that they would heal faster and without any visible scars.
After Caleb brought the necessary supplies, Rufus said, “Now, Saul, this will burn. After one week or so, your skin won’t show any signs of what happened today.”
His back already burned like the flames of eternal damnation. He thought he couldn’t feel any worse than he did, however, as Rufus started to spread the balsam, he flinched and cried out. His voice crescendoed to a scream as the balsam was spread all over his back.
Despite the pain, he felt like he finally reached the understanding of his place. That was his first real step toward acceptance of being a slave. In his heart, he found a new sense of peace—and he owed it to Marcus Tiberius.
Rufus finished bandaging his torso. “We will clean it regularly, so it won’t get infected. My son, everything will be fine.” He helped Saul to turn from his position. “Now sleep and rest for as long as you need. Tomorrow is another day, and you will already feel much better.”
Saul didn’t have any strength left to even listen to what he was saying, and after a couple of hours, he woke up. His wounds still hurt, but the pain was subsiding. He dressed and walked to Marcus Tiberius’ room, where he found him working. “Master.”
Marcus Tiberius raised his head and looked at Saul perplexed. “I haven’t called you…”
“I just wanted…needed to thank you again for your punishment. As odd as it might sound, it helped me. I know that Master Flavius and Mistress Flaminia can’t understand it, and I guess that nobody else, but you and I can.”
Marcus Tiberius nodded in agreement and stood, then walked over to Saul. He hugged him. “You are a good boy and the most loyal among my slaves. I'm glad you understood that my punishment was not for cruelty. Maybe one day, my son will learn a lesson from it and understand as well. How do you feel now?” he asked, gently caressing his tousled hair.