Skaia (8 page)

“
Yes, sir. But… but who I meet, sir?” He regretted the question as soon as it was out of his mouth. He wasn’t
supposed
to question, and Castor, of course, would not answer.

But he did frown. “Don’t question your orders, Skaia,” he said sharply. “Just obey.”

Obey.
Skaia bowed slightly and went to the small washroom. While he washed himself, one of the household women brought him a clean tunic. He thanked her and was surprised to see her smile. It lightened his heart and he smiled back.

When he returned to the kitchen, he looked around for Castor and spotted him with a man he’d never seen before, standing together by one of the side entrances to the domus. Skaia studied this new man for a moment. He was obviously a slave; he wore a collar.
About the same age as Gotus,
Skaia thought. He had longish brown hair and brown eyes. He was slim; his legs shapely beneath his short tunic. Even Skaia knew he was attractive and as his eyes rose upward again, he realized the man’s collar was leather. He handled his own metal one unconsciously, wondering if the material had any significance. He was startled when Castor called out to him, but he walked to them without delay.

“
Carden, speak to him. Make sure you understand each other.”

The new slave spoke to Skaia slowly. “My name is Carden. What are you called here?”

Skaia looked up in amazement. It was the first time anyone had spoken to him in his Gallic tongue since he had been separated from the other slaves in the auction house. “I am…” He hesitated, tempted to use his real name, but no one in this household had ever spoken it. “I am Skaia,” he finally said. “How did you come to be here?”

“
Your master sent for me, to help you learn their speech. You understand me?”

“
Yes, sir. You’re the only one I’ve met here who talks like me.”

Carden nodded to the youngster and then promptly turned his attention back to Castor. “He understands me, and I understand him. I can work with him, sir.”

“
Very good,” Castor smiled. “You can work here at the table today.” He called one of the kitchen girls to bring water, before he spoke to Carden again. “I haven’t explained anything to the boy. I couldn’t. The master wants to present him to Glaucus on his birthday in just three weeks.” He glanced at Skaia, feeling bad that he spoke of the child without including him. “You can tell him about it,” he said, looking back to Carden. “Do you have any questions before I leave you?”

“
No, sir.”

Castor moved away, but stayed close enough to hear them for a few more moments.
Thaddeus was right,
he realized. The youngster had not been cursing—just speaking in his harsh, barbaric language. He felt better as he left the kitchen, thinking that perhaps the child did not hate him after all.

After a period of casual talk, Carden gave Skaia his first instruction, telling him to take a seat at the table, first in their own language and then in Latin. After that, he stared at the boy, wondering how much he knew. Before he got here, he had no idea he would have to explain the family.
At least I know it,
he mused,
though not through a particularly happy experience.
He started to speak. Again, first in their shared Gallic tongue, and then in Latin.

He explained that there were three children in the house. Two sons, Glaucus and Crassus, and a daughter, Thaddia. Glaucus was the eldest and would turn eight in the following weeks. Skaia was to be gifted to him on his birthday. At that pronouncement, Carden noticed that the child grew very pale. “Are you alright?” he asked in concern.

“
Yes, sir,” Skaia quickly assured him. “I just… didn’t know I was for someone else. I thought I was bought for… for the house.” Carden was confirming what Gotus had tried to tell him in the morning. He had thought it could not possibly be true.

Studying the boy carefully, Carden asked, “Have you ever met Glaucus?”

Skaia’s face was returning to its normal color and he shook his head. “No, sir. But I saw him this morning, on his way to lessons. Gotus pointed him out.”

Carden was glad of that much. “He’s a nice boy, Skaia. You’re very lucky.”

Skaia said nothing. Everyone kept telling him he was lucky, but he didn’t
feel
lucky. His family was dead. He was a slave, and now he would belong to that… that little boy. It was one thing to belong to a grown man, or to a household. But not to a boy his own age.
No, not even his own age.
Younger. Just a child.
But he tried not to let Carden see his distress. The other slaves never expressed emotions, even in private.

Carden looked at him for a few more moments, before he continued talking about the family. He explained that Thaddeus’ wife, Pornecia, had died three years earlier while giving birth to Crassus. The daughter, Thaddia was six. Thaddeus’ father, Paulinus, lived in the house as well, but he was no longer involved in the day-to-day affairs. He devoted himself primarily to writings about the Senate, where he had served for several years, and to his gardens in the domus. He could usually be found in the peristylium with his slave, Lucius.

After Carden was sure Skaia understood what he’d said in Gallic, he worked on the boy’s Latin vocabulary. When Skaia had questions, Carden made him ask them in Latin, though he was patient in helping him pick the right words and phrase them correctly. They were both surprised when the other slaves began to gather for the evening meal.

Carden stood immediately, looking for Castor and saying he must return to his own house before the sun set. Castor agreed, knowing that Carden would be in trouble if he were found alone on the streets after dark. But he was taken aback that Carden had no plans to return the next day. “My master did not say, sir,” the young man explained. “I will come if he sends me.”

Castor was not happy, but it was hardly Carden’s fault. He resolved to speak with Thaddeus again, thinking surely the master knew Carden could not have accomplished much in just one afternoon.

In their cell that night, Gotus called Skaia to him straight away. The boy said nothing—speaking in the cells was not allowed—but when Skaia was sure Gotus was asleep, he held the man’s arm tighter, thankful for his steady presence.

The next morning at breakfast, Carden was already at the table when Skaia arrived from downstairs. Castor announced to everyone that he would be staying in the domus for the following weeks, keeping Skaia with him at night in a small storage room so they could work on the boy’s language skills.

It turned out that Skaia was still required to perform his normal tasks during the day, but Carden was always with him, teaching him new words and testing what he’d learned. He was pleased that the youngster’s mind was so quick. But not pleased enough to help him with his chores.

In the small storeroom, Carden was more casual, since they could finally talk in private. First he wanted to know where Skaia was from. As it turned out, the boy had little idea, even when Carden drew a small map in flour on the floor. But eventually they determined he was from an area near Alecia, as was Carden. “That explains why we can talk,” Carden explained. “Dialects differ widely.”

He asked about how Skaia had come to be a slave and listened to the boy’s story, but was careful not to express sympathy. Every slave’s story was sad. His own family had died in a skirmish outside their village. Instead of offering useless condolences, he insisted instead that Skaia repeat the story in Latin.

As Carden had hoped, the tears dried as the child fought to find the right words. Eventually, after Skaia had finally finished, Carden told his own story, though only the part after his arrival in Rome. He had been here for over four years, sent back from one of Caesar’s earlier campaigns. He had learned the language much as Skaia was doing, though from an older man who had come to Rome willingly, hoping to find a market for his animal skins.

He glossed over how he came to know Thaddeus and his family. And what his duties were in his own home. As young as he was, Skaia gathered that Carden was not happy, and did not press him.

After a long pause, Carden asked what was happening in the north country. As he feared, Skaia knew little. If the child’s father had known the extent of the Roman’s conquests, he had not shared the information with his son.

Even when satisfying his curiosity, Carden was careful to further the lessons. After he made sure Skaia understood the question in their Gallic tongue, he would have him repeat it in Latin, and his answers had to be in Latin also.

As best he could, Carden explained the rules of Roman society and the government. Skaia was fascinated, asking questions about the Senate and the Consuls. Carden admitted his lack of knowledge, but spoke of the great Triumvirate: Pompey, Crassus and Caesar. Finally though, he had to quiet Skaia’s questions. “These are matters for the Romans. We are slaves. Our world is different. Theirs is falling apart. The best we can do is survive.”

Skaia was suddenly frightened and asked no more questions. He found it hard to believe that these mighty Romans, who had destroyed his home and conquered the world, would let their own nation slip away. But if Carden was right, that was what was happening. The thought both gratified him and terrified him. He desperately wanted security. Even from these people who now controlled his life.

After the first week, Thaddeus called them both to his office, to determine the extent of the boy’s progress. It was then that Carden’s words truly struck home with Skaia. Regardless of what happened in Rome, or of what might become of the Romans, his own destiny was controlled by this man.
This man… and his little son.

“
Have you been punished this week, Skaia?” Thaddeus asked him directly.

Skaia was startled, but he answered right away, though he never lifted his gaze from the floor. “Twice, sir. For…” He fumbled for the right words. “I wake the others at night once. And my…” He held the hem of his tunic. “My clothes wrinkle.” He was blushing as he realized he had not explained well.

Thaddeus continued to stare at him. “Have you disobeyed any orders?”

“
No, sir,” Skaia answered quickly. “I obey.”

Nodding, a smile played at the corners of Thaddeus’ mouth. “You can look at me when I speak to you.”

Skaia looked up warily. “But you tell me before not look at you.”

Thaddeus laughed. “Help him with these things, Carden.”

Carden only nodded carefully, as he wondered what he could explain. 
That masters made the rules, and they could change them at any time. What was acceptable today might be punished tomorrow
. That, he supposed, was what he should explain
.
But Thaddeus was speaking again. Asking Skaia questions. He focused on them. It seemed that Skaia had a much better grasp of what was said to him already, although his speaking skills lagged. Carden thought it was to be expected, but Thaddeus frowned occasionally before he turned to Carden.

“
Is he paying attention during your lessons?”

“
Yes, Master Thaddeus,” Carden assured the Roman. “He tries very hard.”