After several minutes, the host and another servant emerged from the kitchen. The host went to give food to his Master, and the servant placed a bowl full of unidentifiable muck on the table. Without saying anything or looking at him, he disappeared back from where whence he came.
Saul picked up the bowl and examined the contents, but he could not recognize for sure any of the ingredients. He decided to eat standing up, so at least he wouldn’t dirty the tunic.
The host returned from the restaurant side, toughened his expression into a despising grin as he glanced Saul.
Saul didn’t react.
He considered throwing away the gruel rather than to eat it, but hunger won out. He picked up the spoon and took a tentative bite.
The food was not nearly as awful as it looked; it was far worse. He fought the urge to gag, then forced himself to try another spoonful. His Master wanted him to eat. The reaction to his second bite was predictable, if not what he’d hoped for. He vomited behind the bench, realizing that other slaves might have had the same misfortune
The host reappeared chuckling as he watched Saul puking. “Didn’t like your food, Slave?”
Saul looked at him. “What do you think? What did you give me?”
“That was slave’s food. If you didn’t like it, you should not have eaten it. Anyway, your Master is ready to go.”
Saul followed him in silence. He knew complaining was useless, and he felt weary.
He wanted to return home and be with his Master, to forget that tavern.
“Saul, are you sick?” Marcus Tiberius glanced at him with questioning eyes.
“I… no. I just feel tired, I guess.”
Marcus Tiberius glared at the host. “What you have given him to eat? I told you to treat him right,” and glanced at him.
Saul’s tired expression, together with the ill facial features given by the food he ate, made him look miserable.
“I gave him the same food as you.”
“You are lucky we are both dead tired and not in the mood for discussions.” Marcus Tiberius turned his back to the host and guided Saul out of the restaurant.
The last thing Marcus Tiberius wanted was to argue with a host about food, and he knew it was generally no use. They always have a way to turn the facts to their advantage. He looked at Saul as they trudged home, side by side.
He put his arm around Saul’s shoulders to console him. He knew it was a lousy meal, that it was one intended for slaves.
Saul was not just a slave; he was the most graceful creature Marcus Tiberius had ever seen, and his mildness made him even more precious. He wondered if he was sent by the gods as a gift, or if he were a god in disguise. Whatever the truth, would they be displeased by the fact that I gave him to my son?
When they reached their house in the late afternoon. Marcus Tiberius dismissed Saul and went to his room to rest and to think. He sat on a couch and closed his eyes. The rustling of a garment alerted him to someone entering his room. He opened his eyes and saw his wife.
She smoothed his brow with cool fingers. “Are you tired?”
“Yes. It has been a long party, and not the easiest one, I am afraid.” he gently held her hand and kissed her graceful fingers.
“Indeed, and poor Saul. I saw him going to the slaves’ room looking so sad. For him, it must have been a terribly difficult evening.” she said, sitting near Marcus Tiberius.
“I don’t know what I should do anymore. My son thinks I am favoring Saul, and this morning, he became violent toward him out of pure jealousy. Where have I gone wrong? Please, Flaminia, I need your advice.” Desperation laced his voice.
She held his hand and smiled. “Flavius needs time to understand it. Remember how you felt when your father announced to you your engagement? I was terrified. I was fourteen when I met you for the first time, and I didn’t know what to expect. I was lucky to find such a devoted husband as you. We thought of his career more than his possible relationship with Claudia, but I think she likes him. She needs time.” Her fingers worried a crease in her dress. “I find her behavior inappropriate, but she is still young and perhaps also nervous.” She ran her fingers through his hair and stood. “I will try to talk to Flavius. Maybe I can ease the bitterness in his heart.”
“I hope he won’t hate me,” he said, kissing her hand.
“He won’t. I will go talk to him right away.” Flaminia stood walked to the door.
He closed his eyes, hoping to find relief in sleep.
Flavius was in his room, trying to rest when his mother came in.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Fine, I guess. Mother, I misbehaved with both my father and our guests. Maybe also with Claudia.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Of course not. I know I have been unfair toward Saul as well,” Flavius admitted, averting his gaze away from her.
“Flavius, what makes you so full of anger?”
“I think I am jealous of Saul. Since he arrived in this house, it seemed that everything revolved around him. Father was always with Saul, and he thought to protect his precious slave from Claudia, but not his son.”
Flaminia took his hand in both of hers. “Do you seriously think your father is more affectionate to Saul than to you? They are always together because he needs him for his work, and concerning Claudia, aren’t you overreacting? I know you don’t like her, but you don’t need to be saved. She is not a monster. I saw how she looked at you when you behaved coldly. Her expression was that of a woman who loves someone who doesn’t feel the same for her.
“She behaved badly toward Saul, but this could be a result of her frustration. Please, be courteous and try to understand that there is no conspiracy against you. What we do is only for your own good, and Saul is not stealing your father's attention. It couldn't be that you are jealous because Saul is spending more time with your father than with you?” she dared.
Flavius glanced at her but didn’t reply immediately. He thought about what she said. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wanted Saul for himself. It could be that I am overreacting and, indeed, my behavior was childish. I should feel ashamed for crying like that at the first difficulty.
He glanced at her. “You might be right, and I am sorry I hit Saul. I owe an apology to him as well. I am envious that he is younger, and not only better educated than I am, but also wiser and more mature. Beside his perfection, I see how imperfect I am. Father thinks he might be sent by the gods to teach us a lesson. What do you think?”
She relaxed her expression and shook her head. “He is a boy, not a god. He is wise, but nothing more than a boy, and soon he will be your slave among the others. You will have to learn to rule over each of them with rightness and justice. You have a long way until you become a man, but maybe understanding your immaturity was the first step. From this point, you have to build your way up to manhood, and everything will be granted to you. If you want respect, you have to give it in the first place.”
He lowered his gaze and nodded; “Mother, I need time to think on this, away from this house, somewhere I can concentrate and think clearly.”
“We can arrange for you to stay at your uncle’s place. I will talk to your father about it. Meanwhile, you don’t have to spend time with your father or Saul. This house is large enough to be on your own.”
“Maybe this house, but I go to school with Saul. I guess the best option is staying with my uncle, as you proposed. Thank you and forgive me if I have behaved stupidly,” he said.