“So it shall be. I will come to see Saul every day, if you agree.”
“You are always welcome in my house. This is your house too, Flavius. Remember that,” Marcus Tiberius said.
Flavius walked to Saul and took his hands in his own. “I shall return tomorrow, Saul. I don’t mind that you can’t see. I need your advice, your loyalty, and friendship.”
Saul smiled weakly. “Thank you, Master.”
As he walked the streets, Flavius realized he needed more time alone to think. The fresh air would help him to think clearly.
He had never asked Saul for a specific task in his household, but because he wanted his friend always at his side. At least, that had been the original plan.
The period spent with his uncle had changed his points of view, and Saul became more a lover, rather than just a friend. The wife at his side was not the one he wished to have, and yes, sex with a slave was better than with her.
The kidnapping didn’t change my feelings for her; nothing can change that.
He thought then about the strange behavior exhibited by his father and Saul. Well, he understood Saul’s attitude. Yet, since Marcus Tiberius had tried by all means necessary to protect Saul, he should have sought for revenge.
By nature, Flavius was not the kind of person to give up on something without having everything set clear. He needed the truth and, in his profession, he needed to search for justice, if not for Saul, then for himself as someone damaged something he owned, something he considered highly valuable.
His father was right in urging him to take a measured approach, but this wouldn’t stop him from searching for the truth. Who broke into his home and damaged his property; who his kidnappers were, what they really wanted, and how did they know who he was, where he lived, and that he had a wife?
He could not take his mind off those swirling thoughts. Those men knew him very well. Maybe they personally knew him, or perhaps they had been paid by someone who knew him.
Who could they be? The more he pondered it, the more frustrated he became. Answers evaded him.
He needed someone to talk to.
His uncle’s house was far away, but Flavius thought he would listen to him and give good advice. It was the eleventh hour of the day when he arrived at his uncle’s door, hoping not to be rejected.
Titus opened the door.
“Flavius, what brings you here?” he asked, inviting him in.
“I need to talk to you. I am in the middle of a huge problem, and I don’t know how to solve it. I thought maybe you could help me.”
“Of course, please follow me. I'll order something to eat and some wine; we will talk more comfortably.” Titus called someone. “What happened to you? You look like a beggar.”
“It’s a long story. May I stay for the night? We might be late talking, and I’d rather not return home too late. You might send one of your slaves to inform my wife,” he proposed.
“You are welcome to spend the night, and I will send someone to tell your wife. Please, make yourself comfortable and tell me what your problem is.”
Flavius started to tell the entire story from the beginning; from his departure to his kidnapping and to Saul’s accident, trying not to leave any detail untold.
Titus listened to him as to a fairy tale; he could not believe something like that could happen to a person like his nephew. He wasn’t a politician or someone who would have many enemies. He couldn’t see any reason for someone to plot against him.
“That is the strangest story I’ve ever heard. If you weren’t the one telling me, I would have thought it was a lie. I'm sorry for your slave, but if you used him mostly for your pleasure, his blindness shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Saul is not just a slave I use for my pleasure. He is a trusted friend and a wise advisor. In his eyes, once the flame of life burned bright, but now they are lifeless. I loved them, and I loved the way he looked at me. I can’t tell you my bitterness, but this accident is something I will think about later. I need your advice about my kidnapping” Flavius let himself comfortable on a couch.
Titus sipped his wine, taking time to think about it. “Maybe the two events are connected.”
“What?”
“What if someone wanted to hit you right where it hurts most? If I were someone who wanted revenge against you, for whatever reason, I would choose the way to hurt you deep in your heart.” Titus said standing up from the couch and pacing the room. “Certainly, I could kill your entire family, but in that situation, if I were caught, I would probably be exiled or worse, which would not be my goal. My goal would be to hit you in your heart without any consequences.”
Flavius listened to him open-mouthed and didn’t dare interrupting his uncle.
“Now, if I knew you as well as I do,” Titus continued, “the best way would be to permanently damage your precious slave, the one you love, making him useless. In that way, I would make you understand that I know where to hit you; therefore, next time you won’t cross my road again.”
Flavius gasped.
Titus grabbed the cup with wine, and walked to the door, opened to the garden.
“To do this, I would need you to be away from Rome long enough to arrange everything. During one of your trips, I would set up a kidnapping to keep you from home; in the meantime, I would take care of your slave. How does that sound?” he asked.
Flavius listened, terrified by what Titus said. His hypothesis made sense. Too much, maybe.
“I haven’t thought about that possibility, but still, something doesn’t fit. Who could hate me so much? I have no enemies. I've never crossed anyone’s path,” he said, trying to think of all the people he knew, to identify any who might have something against him.
“On this, I can’t much help, but it might be someone you crossed without knowing it. It might be somebody who thought you hadn't done a good job. Does someone come into your mind in this sense?” Titus wondered.
Flavius shook his head. “No, nothing comes to mind, but if the person responsible is someone I didn’t realize I wronged…”
“Some old friend who might have been jealous of you? Someone who wanted Saul, but since it was your slave, he decided to get revenge by ruining him? Could it be someone who wanted instead to hurt Saul and needed you to be away? Does your slave have enemies?”
“No, that is impossible. Saul can’t possibly have enemies, and what’s more, he said that he couldn’t recognize any of the intruders.”
Titus remained silent, steepling his fingers. “Do you trust him as a sincere person? Did he ever lie to you?”
“No, Saul is not a liar, and my father also believes what he said,” Flavius said firmly as he took another sip of the wine offered.
“That does not prove anything. Saul might have lied to your father as well.”
“No, you don’t know him like I do. If you saw them, you would understand how strong the bond is which binds them together. They are connected, and there is no way Saul can tell him a lie without him knowing it. He tried once and was punished. From that day on, Saul never lied to him about anything. Even when the truth led him to other punishments, he has been totally sincere with my father,” Flavius said.
“Remarkable slave you have, indeed. However, what if your father knows the truth, and he prefers to keep it to himself?” he dared ask.
“Why should he do that?”
“I do not know. Maybe it is better you don’t know the truth; remember that not everything needs to be told.”
Flavius smiled as he heard that. “Uncle Titus, that does not work for me. Do you remember I am a lawyer? I have to seek the truth always.”
“You have to, but what about your father? He is not a lawyer; maybe he thinks that hiding the truth is a way to protect you. I am trying to analyze every possibility, even the stupid ones.”