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Lucius, I assumed, had the natural tolerance that the young hold, without prejudice for those different. The innate curiosity of a child leads to wonderment at why there are dissimilarities, but they learn to accept others as they come. It is when they grow older, and are subjected to the skewed ideas of their peers and adults that they begin the change to hatred. So I never questioned Lucius' acceptance of me, just understood it as his curiosity getting the better of him.So encompassing was my hate for Roman authority, that I was ill-prepared for the soft kindness in the eyes of the man before me. He held a hand out to me, to help me up. I hesitated, searching out his soul behind his gentle visage, judging whether I was to be taken to task for the lime that lay near my feet, where I had dropped it.
This man, dressed in the white toga of the Senate, with its bold purple border, was offering to help up a slave, a woman beneath his notice. I took it, but made no show of my surprise, only thanked him, as he picked up the fruit, and I regained balance on my crutches. He handed it to me, with a smile.
“I believe this is yours.”
I stared at the lime, unwilling to take it, for in effect, I had been about to steal it. I shook my head. Was this a trick?
“Don't you want it? You pulled it from the tree.” He seemed confused, that I could not bring myself to accept it, after all it had been the reason for this awkwardness I felt. Or was it the man himself?
“Not anymore,” I managed. Of course I did, but not at the expense of my pride, and the admission of taking what did not belong to me. He sighed, then pressed it into my palm, prying my fingers loose a bit from the crutch that held me up. I let him, but stood stiffly at some form of attention, like a horse that has been oft beat, and is uncertain of the touch that says to it, ‘rider’.
“Child, I mind nothing if you want a lime. All I ask is that you be sure to express your desire for one.” He turned toward the direction from whence I had come, and walked beside me, as we made our way to the servants’ quarters.
Just beyond the garden, we were met by a noisy group of geese and ducks that clustered around the old man. He smiled, reaching for a large bowl of seed perched on one of the benches, and began tossing it on the ground in several places for the birds. He beamed at me, “They bring me much joy, in my age. One thing I have always admired about your people, they hold geese sacred.” He was right. Geese were for the Celts, a symbol of war. It was taboo to eat them. However, for the Romans, the geese of Juno, the mother of their gods, were just as sacred. Several hundreds years before, as the Senones of Gaul sacked Rome, it was geese that were kept in the temple that sounded out the warning signal that things were amiss to the Romans, rather than their dogs. As a result, once a year since, the birds are paraded throughout the streets of Rome on litters, and dogs run through on elder poles, as punishment for their silence.
We continued on the way, and he spoke to me as though I were not a slave, but a friend. I said very little, only listened, and acknowledged queries with a yes or no. By the time we reached my sleeping place, he almost had me under a spell, so soothing were his voice and speech. I imagined that he must be very persuasive, when he spoke on the floor of the Senate.
At my door, he paused, and looked inside, gazing around in approval. It was swept out daily by some cleaning woman or another, and I had little to clutter it. A puzzle rested in its place on the small table, brought to me by Lucius. It consisted of a small wooden platform, with yet another piece of wood stuck to it, hollowed in the middle, which was run through with a string attached to small blocks, two of a tiny square shape, and two thin, flat square ones at the ends. An iron ring rested at the bottom of the upright slotted post. It fascinated me, this puzzle, because the object was to get the iron ring off, and to remove the blocks and string from it, through the hole. I never did figure it out. Beside the puzzle stood a bronze figurine of a horse, with uplifted tail, and flowing mane, a gift from Galen, when I mentioned once the thing I would like to do most, which was ride again, and that Epona was my matron goddess. My clothing, consisting of two or three long dresses in the style of the women servants, was folded neatly on the end of the bed, I moved it to the table when I lay down to sleep.
He turned to me. “Are you comfortable?”
I was taken aback. Why did it matter? “Aye. It is better than I have had in some time.” I was thinking about my cell under the Coliseum.
Smiling, he replied, “That is good to hear. Maximus will be pleased.” I gazed quizzically at the man that I assumed to be Gracchus, the Master of the villa. He was perceptive, and motioned me inside, and took the chair opposite the bed where I perched. “What would you like to know?” He asked, patient while I formed my thoughts.
What did I want to know? Anything, everything. But the only think I could think of then, was, “Why?”
A hearty chuckle rose from Gracchus, and I flushed, feeling like a dumb child. He caught my expression, and sobered. “Forgive me, my dear. I expected a flood. I should probably have come sooner, but we thought it best if you were allowed to mend, with little interference from those you would naturally mistrust. But Lucius has kept us informed of your progress. Why? That is a very good question. He has never really told me, either. What else?”
“What does he want of me?”
He sighed. “All questions you will have to ask of Maximus, I’m afraid. I can tell you about him, and what he expects of you while you are here, but little other than that.”
“Then tell me.”
From Gracchus’ point of view, seeing him as a countryman and friend, Maximus was a fine man. They had known one another for the past five seasons, or so. Maximus was direct, kind, and apparently never took slaves, having been a slave himself, at one time. This explained why Gracchus was uncertain why Maximus had bought me. He was unmarried- this immediately made me nervous- and had no children. He had lost them some years before, to soldiers, after displeasing Emperor Commodus. He was north now, trying to keep matters peaceful between Rome and Germania. He was a soldier in the army. During my time here, I was to mend, and get strong. I was to return the kindness shown me, within the bounds of my knowledge that I was stronger than most of the people here, and that none would harm me. So far, I had done well in achieving my master’s expectations. While Gracchus only gave me generalities about Maximus, I could tell he cared much about him. His tone was almost reverent, and I knew from the conversation between them I had overheard the first night of my time here, he loved him like a son. I wondered if perhaps he was a brother-in-law, or some other relative, from the way he had mentioned Lucius’ mother, Lucilla, and her concern for Maximus’ welfare.
Gracchus seemed just as intent on hearing about me, as I was about Maximus. I told him a few things, about my childhood only, and then sleep started to creep upon me, before the evening meal was brought. It was too much in one day to ponder, and the thought of falling under the spell of Roman kindness tired me out, as well. It was too new, and it bothered me. Gracchus mercifully left me to dream.
I was to learn many lessons in my life after, about never judging a whole based on the actions of a few. Sometimes, the learning was gentle, as it was there in the villa. Other times, it was a difficult thing to change my disposition.
