Our miserable vessel docked at a wharf and Domitus paid the captain half the agreed fee. He showed him the rest of the coins and told him to be waiting for us at exactly the same spot at midday tomorrow.
‘We’ll be here, dominus,’ he replied with the expectation of more easy money, though as I followed Domitus past the warehouses and into the city I wondered if he would go straight to the nearest barracks and inform the centurion on guard. Then again, he had no reason to suspect anything. Domitus was obviously a Roman citizen and I was obviously his slave. We found accommodation for the night in a dirty, lice-ridden inn run by a fat oaf who had three chins but only one front tooth. The inn was near the docks and was full of rough-looking sailors who sat around the tables in the dining area, shoving food into their mouths with their fingers, drinking and generally arguing with anyone at hand. Domitus ordered himself a meal of pork, bread and wine, while I trudged outside to find a place in the courtyard, outside the stable block. There were other slaves already there, grey shapes laid along the wall, most sleeping. I took my place beside them, just another bundle of human misery. Domitus came out into the courtyard a while later with a jug of water and a piece of bread. I drank the water but refused the bread, which was as hard as rock.
‘We leave at dawn,’ I whispered to him. ‘I hope you have eaten and drunk your fill.’
He must have noted the sarcasm in my voice. ‘I have, thank you slave.’
I hardly slept at all that night, and as the dawn broke cold and grey I trudged over to wash my face in the horse trough and waited for Domitus, who emerged clean-shaven and smiling from the inn. My fellow sleeping companions were also stirring, and so I pulled the hood over my head to hide my long hair and we left the courtyard. Domitus led as we walked into the street and paced briskly along a narrow pavement.
‘The rich houses are in the northern part of the city,’ said Domitus. ‘Marcus Aristius lives in a villa called the Merchant’s House, apparently. But we’re not going there.’
‘Why not?’ I asked.
‘Because Abundantia has spread her legs for you today.’
‘Have you been drinking?’ I said.
‘Abundantia is the goddess of luck. Last night I was chatting to one of the sailors and he told me that a batch of African slaves is being auctioned today at the market. Now what I’ve heard about this Marcus Aristius, I think there’s a good chance that he will be there.’
He was right, especially if young boys were being sold, and so we went to the slave market. The smell of human misery and unwashed bodies met our nostrils before our eyes beheld the dozens of men, women and children who were on sale. Hundreds of citizens, ranging from the very wealthy to the decidedly ordinary, were present, observing, bidding for and examining the slaves with sticks. Some slaves, mostly women, stood naked on revolving stands so potential buyers could see exactly what they were purchasing. Others were stood on raised wooden platforms, their heads down and blank expressions on their faces. Some slaves had one foot whitened with chalk, which Domitus told me meant they were new arrivals from abroad. Others had placards hanging from their necks, upon which were written details concerning their nationality, origins, good and bad characteristics and any skills they possessed. A brisk trade was being conducted, with buyers and sellers haggling and arguing over the prices of individual slaves or whole batches. I still had my hood over my head and my cloak tied in front of me to preserve my anonymity, but as I followed Domitus around the market I looked out for Aristius. I was beginning to think our journey was in vain when I caught sight of him, an effeminate fat man dressed in an expensive toga with gold rings on his flabby fingers. As far as I could tell he was alone, though no doubt he had slaves nearby to carry his litter. I saw immediately why he was at this particular spot, for in front of him were arranged half a dozen young black boys, no more than sixteen years old. Each had a whitened foot and wore only a loincloth.
‘That’s the bastard, there, looking at those boys. So let’s get nearer to the fat oaf,’ I whispered to Domitus who walked slowly in front of me. He ambled over to stand next to Aristius, who was in the middle of a heated debate with the seller, another fat man who was going bald and who spoke in a curious accent that I could not place.
‘Six thousand denarii is an exorbitant price,’ said an irritated Aristius.
‘Fresh young boys from north Africa don’t come cheap, so they don’t,’ retorted the seller, standing his ground.
Aristius was clearly drooling over the young slaves and could obviously afford the goods on offer, but was determined to drive down the price. A small crowd had gathered around him as he haggled over the slaves, and so I edged closer towards him.
‘They might be something wrong with them,’ he said, waving a stubby finger at the boys.
‘They’re nearly naked,’ said the seller, ‘you can see that they be just about perfect.’
‘I need to see them naked,’ announced Aristius.
The slave trader sighed and nodded to one of his assistants, who indicated that the boys should remove their loincloths. They did so and Aristius’ eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as the boys stood naked before him. I turned to Domitus.
‘Give me some coins.’
He passed me a handful of silver coins as I moved to stand behind Aristius. Others crowded around to see what was going on.
‘As you can see, there’s nothing wrong with them,’ said the slave trader.
‘They may have been interfered with on the journey. I know what these sailors are like. Get them to turn round.’
‘What?’ The slave trader was starting to lose patience.
‘If I am satisfied that they have not been violated and are still complete, then you will have the asking price,’ said Aristius.
The slave trader sighed again and signalled to his assistant, who placed his stick on the back of the first slave’s neck and forced him to bend over. Aristius leaned forward to stare at the boy’ backside.
At that moment I threw a large handful of silver coins onto the ground in front of him. Instantly there was a mad scramble as all and sundry made an attempt to grab the money, including Aristius. For all his property and wealth he was, in the final analysis, possessed of an insatiable greed for money. However, those around him had a similar idea and he was ignominiously barged aside and shoved face-down on the ground. I stood over him in the commotion, bent down and drew my dagger across his throat, then stood up and walked briskly away without looking back; Domitus followed. It was a few seconds before I heard the screams and shouts as people realised that the rich, fat merchant had had his throat slit. Many think that murderers commit their crimes in the dark and in the shadows, but in truth it is easy enough to kill someone in broad daylight in front of hundreds of potential witnesses and not be noticed. As we left the market I made sure there was no blood on my cloak, and checked that my dagger was safely hidden. The journey back to the docks was uneventful. We were a master and his slave making their way through crowded streets filled with shoppers and traders. When we arrived at the docks, the quays and warehouses were teeming with activity and small boats and larger vessels were exiting and entering the crowded harbour. City life was carrying on as normal and we were just two insignificant individuals going about our business. I resisted the temptation to keep glancing behind me lest I draw attention to us, but I still had a nagging doubt that we would be arrested at any moment. To my great relief we made it back to the fishing boat that had brought us into Thurri, and which remained moored to the jetty awaiting our return. In the light it looked even more disgusting than I had imagined, with fish heads littering the floor and the inside of the boat smeared with fish scales and what looked like blood. As I descended the steps to board the boat, its fetid odour made me recoil.