Sharpie

Two others appeared. Jason recognised them, despite the flickering torchlight and the nearly-gone daylight. The big man who'd come to the Palatine with Lucius to fetch him, that day, and the medicus they called Theodorus, who had immediately stooped to examine the body. It was all wrong, the man they wanted attacked women; he'd only gone for Azarion because he'd been cornered and his only way out was past Azarion - Jason had been in that alley, more than once. It was a dead end, the only other exit being the back door of the stables. This was a man, a Senator. Tiberius was going to go spare over it, Jason was certain of that much - and it surely wouldn't be long afterwards that he learned who else had had a run-in with the monster. "This is all wrong," he said, voicing his thoughts. "Was he between the attacker and the way out - that's why he went for Azarion, after all." Azarion hadn't been cut like Ovinia had, either - had this man been cut other than just the wound that killed him? "Was it the same man who did the others, though?" Tall dark-haired men in green knee-length cloaks weren't exactly a rarity in Rome, after all! @Chevi @Atrice

He shifted until he could put his arm around her, and smiled down at the tiny baby she was cradling. "He is perfect - you are perfect," he said, and returned her kiss, tenderly. "I will have some food brought to you - you've had a difficult day. Take as long as you need to recover - although if I find you've started exerting yourself again needlessly, I won't be best pleased." The smile on his face softened words that might otherwise seem harsh. "You can send your girl for any of you books and scrolls that you may want, and I am sure that both Calpurnias will rise to the challenge of running the house to your standards." He would come and sit with her again in the days before she returned to taking the household reins again. Footsteps outside made him look up. "It seems your wet-nurse has arrived," he told her, and bent to kiss his son's forehead. "I shall let you get settled with her." He crossed to the door, turning just long enough to give mother and son another fond glance before leaving to make way for the wet-nurse and Horatia's maid. @Sara

"You really need to stop pushing, for a bit. Let someone else risk their hide for once," Marcus said, and watched the boy put one foot in the stirrup and lightly settle himself on the horse's back with an ease that spoke to long practise at it (even if he hadn't actually done it in years). The Sarmatians, from what Marcus knew, were practically born in the saddle. They were famed as riders and archers - and Azarion had it in his blood. He didn't need to worry that the boy would somehow be thrown, or fall, unless through the actions of another rider - but he had the most secure seat of any of them. The trumpet sounded and the race began. @Chevi

Jason was going to have numerous questions to answer later on, once he returned to his master's side, but for now it was enough that he'd been sent for by Lucius Vipsanius Roscius (apparently his master knew the name), though why his body slave had been sent for and Vipsanius Roscius hadn't come himself to see Tiberius was only one of the questions Jason would have to answer later on. He wrapped his cloak around him against the chill of the February evening and followed the vigilis' messenger into the darkening streets of Rome. The only connection he had to Vipsanius Roscius was the fact that Azarion had needed an interpreter and - no. No; Vipsanius Roscius had initially come looking for him because he'd been the one to help Ovinia Camilla. Of course they wouldn't ask his master to loan him out if it was just about Azarion. Romans didn't bother themselves about their slaves like that, after all. At least this time he wasn't worried that he was somehow in trouble with the vigiles himself, which was some small mercy. Something must have happened, though - something bad, and the messenger was being tight-lipped, though that was probably only because he knew Jason was a slave. He was brought to a side street, rather than the insula of before, or even the local vigiles' station house, and it was only the forbidding look on the face of the unfamiliar man with Vipsanius Roscius that prevented him from asking what had happened. That, and the ominously still figure at their feet. @Atrice @Chevi

@Faustus - Aulus would be a good patron for your Gaius if he needs one, especially with Gaius being Raetian - and if Gaius runs into trouble needing Senatorial support or anything, Aulus would be a pretty good person to ask. Especially if they were acquainted back in Raetia during Gaius' military service (he might have been a guard at the Governor's palace in Raetia for a stint, for example).

Marcus could only guess what destruction Azarion might wreak if he were allowed access to a bow and arrows, although he had settled down somewhat from the half-feral youngster who'd first joined the Whites. Not completely, though, as evidenced by the addition of stirrups. Well, a bit of fire was a good thing, especially in the cut-throat world of chariot racing. And it seemed Azarion didn't much care if the organisers did disqualify him. "Am I going to punish you? For what, trying to bring a bit of sense to riding?" Marcus folded his arms and arched an eyebrow. He was rather fond of the boy, Ahura Mazda help them both. "You do like to push things, but no." He'd weather the storm later, if there was one. The serious business was the chariot racing, anyway; actual riders racing was done more from tradition than because it was taken seriously. The Romans far preferred the spectacle of the two- and four-horse chariots thundering around the Circus. "Just, try not to push things too much, all right? I might have to actually rein you in, and neither of us would like that." @Chevi

"Well, I think we have well and truly passed properly, my dove," Aulus told her, amused. "I would not say no. I merely thought you might like some time with him, uninterrupted by grown men who really have very little experience or knowledge when it comes to such young children. I have no intention of confining you to your room or any such nonsense like that - or making you feel so confined, even, if you were worried about that." Which she shouldn't be, of course. He had not expected that she would return from her planned visit to the temple of Juno Lucina with their newborn son in her arms, and adjusting to that unexpected event was - well, wasn't that why there was that nine-day wait, usually? He laughed softly. "I think, at the very least, that we can't be accused of being as traditional as most married people of our level of society, despite our best efforts. And I think you would rather I arm you with a gladius and teach you how to use it than send you to Baiae again, should anything happen." He had seen warrior women, since then, and could picture Horatia as one of them, in all her patrician fury, daring anyone to harm a hair on her children's heads. "Let us pray that we never see such an event again," he added, a little more soberly. She had been able to show Titus to her mother, at least, and he thought that Livia Calavia would have doted on her grandchildren. He would write to Marcus Horatius, though; the old man would surely be proud that his daughter had brought a second son safely into the world despite the extremely unorthodox place. @Sara

"Hey - hey, don't take it so hard," Rufus said, the smile dropping from his face. "If it was what I said that's upset you, I'm sorry." He offered the back of his hand for Azarion to slap. "And if it was that -" he indicated the wall with his thumb "- people are absolute idiots with more time than sense. You're young, and good-looking, you'll find someone." Rufus thought that he honestly wouldn't mind something a bit more... physical with Azarion, in fact, but wasn't about to say so just yet in case Azarion didn't think that way about men and would get spooked; he didn't want to spoil their friendship (not-hate-ship?) by bringing in any sort of awkwardness like that. "The people writing that sort of crap don't know you, anyway. They only know what they see, and then they go and invent stuff for why something is the way it is." He gave his friend a concerned glance. "I'm not helping, am I?" @Chevi

Jason recognised the signs though the only thing he changed about his stance was his grip on the reins, which he tightened so that Ignis would not be able to jerk free when he did toss his head. "You want him to learn good behaviour, Domine," he said. "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." He took one slice from the stable-master (he would take them all but had nowhere to stow the others for now). "Let's show them you know how to stand still," he said quietly to the horse, speaking in his own tongue. Ignis snorted and threw up his head, but Jason was ready for him and did not let him jerk the reins free. "Still, my friend, nice and easy. Just like that," he said and offered the apple slice the moment there was a pause in motion. He switched back to Latin, taking another slice of the apple. "You associate the good thing with the behaviour you want, Domine. Horses are very intelligent - more than a lot of people realise - and you can teach them almost anything, if they trust you." It would be good to mount Ignis and ride, something he yearned for almost every day, but this lesson would not take very long, and hopefully it would be short enough that Tiberius would still be in a frame of mind to go for a ride. He clicked his tongue at the chestnut. "We are going to have to talk in Latin, even if it's a very silly language, because our master does not know Sarmatian," he said quietly, and switched back to Latin again, still talking in the same soft tone of voice. "Walk on..." The horse came with him and a moment later, "Stand - good boy." He offered the second piece of apple as soon as Ignis halted with all four hooves on the ground. @Sarah

"Celsus, sir," Attis replied, though the expression on the senator's face said as plain as daylight he hoped it was Attis. And it was Attis, a lot of the time, but by no means exclusively - someone had to look after it when Attis was elsewhere or otherwise occupied, and why not the big hulking Dacian, who seemed to have an affinity with the big wrinkly dog. Though maybe not enough of an affinity to actually teach him any tricks. When Licky finally noticed the newcomer, he barked joyfully, heading towards him with the obvious intention of giving him a very enthusiastic greeting. It couldn't happen to a better person, in Attis' opinion! @Liv

"Men are like that, Domina," Teutus admitted with a sigh. "I don't know why we are, but..." He shrugged. "Then all assemble who felt towards the tyrant relentless hatred or keen fear; ships, which by chance were ready, they seize and load with gold; the wealth of grasping Pygmalion is borne overseas, the leader of the enterprise a woman."* It was never the women who started the wars - even Helen of Troy hadn't started it herself, only spurred others on to start it by her actions. He'd always thought she was a thoughtless woman not worth going to war over - if she didn't want to stay with her husband, he'd have much better divorced her than drag men from Greece into a ten-year-war for no good reason. "Love, or jealousy - but isn't that just love thwarted?" he mused. This was a strange subject to be discussing with his free cousin, but he so rarely got to have a conversation like this with anyone. "Who would be your heroine, from all the stories - Roman or Greek, or anyone else at all?" he asked, curious. @locutus-sum - so, so sorry for the wait!! *Aeneid Book I, translation H.R. Fairclough

"I would think you'd like the time to rest and begin to bond with your son," Aulus said, setting the scroll to one side and coming across to sit on the edge of the bed where he could look down at his newest son. "I love you, too, my sweet," he told her, just as quietly. "You do realise that now you're a mother of three, you're an emancipated woman?" He didn't need any more children - hadn't needed this one, if the truth were known, but now that Quintus had arrived in the world, he wouldn't be without him. "I missed so much with the others, I don't want to miss anything with Quintus," he added, finding that strange sensation of having a chest too small for all the love that was in it for his wife and his three children which he had first experienced when Horatia had presented Titus to him, and again when he'd returned home to meet his daughter for the first time as a young girl. @Sara

"Yes, I daresay you can ride faster with them," Marcus said, dryly. "You'll throw the entire city into an uproar over this outlandish idea and the next thing you know they'll equip all their cavalry soldiers with them. At least you're not going to give them a demonstration of just how effective they can be for an archer - oh yes, I know that much about your people." The Sarmatians, like Marcus' own people (well, his grandfather's people; he himself was born Roman) were consummate riders and archers, devastatingly effective with both. Perhaps that was why the Romans hadn't extended their own borders further east. He clasped his hands behind his back. "I hope you won't be too disappointed if they decide to disqualify you due to having an unfair advantage." @Chevi

Rufus had stepped a bit closer to see what he was looking at now, noticing the way he'd suddenly gone very very still, with an almost frozen expression. "Ah, shit. They're full of crap, these people," he said, wondering just how much he'd be risking if he were to offer a friendly hug. "They don't bloody think, that's what." There had to be better stuff than graffiti for Azarion to practise his reading with, but Rufus couldn't think of anything except temple inscriptions, which were few and far between in this particular stretch of alleyway. "They can't think of anything except sex," he mused. "Which probably means the last time they got laid was oh, during the Civil War. They ought to find something better to do with their time, really!" @Chevi

Davus said nothing but just gave her a sympathetic look. He didn't know about the brothel where she was, but they really weren't all fun and games, he was aware of that - even if he'd only been ten when he'd been taken away from home. He knew she was lying to try to make him feel better, but it was having the opposite effect. He remembered enough of his first years back in the brothel in Alexandria to know that she wasn't telling him the full truth - but even if she were, he couldn't do anything about it. It had turned desperately awkward suddenly and that was probably his fault. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he said. "I just meant, I wish things could have been better for you, I hope they get better for you. I hope you've got friends there - and even if you don't, I hope you could think of me as a friend?" @Sara

"Dirty-minded buggers, Romans," Rufus said with a laugh, looking at all the declarations of people getting laid, or wanting to get laid, or who they wanted to get laid with. "I think if you removed the word 'fuck' from the language, the walls would suddenly look a lot cleaner." And then Azarion was squinting at another scribble entirely. "I wonder who Cynane is, and why they think she's got four cocks. That sounds horribly uncomfortable. Unless she keeps them as trophies or something." Cynane was the name of one of Alexander the Great's sisters or something; she'd led an army into battle. And that was about as much as Rufus could tell of the origins of the name. He wondered who this Cynane might be. @Chevi

Marcus made it a habit to go around the horses and drivers (or riders, in this case) in the half-hour or so before a race started, unless his presence was required in the stands as it sometimes was; it was not unknown for the patron of the day's races to request the faction leaders attend him. He did his best to treat his slaves, employees and the other members of the faction with impartiality, but allowed (within the recesses of his own thoughts) that he might have a slight bias where the mute Sarmatian was concerned. Azarion was holding the reins of a young horse, one not yet used to the harness of a chariot, but that promised to be a fine runner given the chance. He had tied his hair back; Marcus had smiled when he first realised that he was growing his hair out - it gave him more of a wild look than usual, especially as it had reached that awkward length when it was nearly impossible to do anything with it. Something about the horse's gear caught his attention and he shook his head. Really. Stirrups... he should have guessed Azarion would assert his own wild ways on this horseback race. Well, he deserved the chance. "How are you feeling?" he asked, drawing closer. @Chevi

"You never know what might happen," Davus said, and offered a smile of his own. "I mean, I never expected to end up here in Rome, after all." Her smile was sad around the edges, though, making him wish he could do something for her. She really was too nice to have ended up where she was - Rome was not a nice place for nice people, not really. It was all right for Davus, he'd ended up in a not too bad situation in a senator's home and was well aware he'd been lucky. But for someone like Ione... it just wasn't right. "I wish I could help," he said, voicing his thoughts. @Sara

Awkward! "We're from Sarmatia, originally, but we've been here for eight years or so," he told the other man, the one they didn't know. "Ah - that's north and east of here," he added, in case he didn't know of Sarmatia. He should, really, their people weren't so far apart as all that, but he might be from a different part of Germania. "He's Azarion, I'm Tiranes." He only realised a second later he should probably have given his Roman name, but even after eight years he didn't think of himself as Jason given half a chance not to. "And no - it's paid for by the entrance fee," he informed his cousin. "So it counts as free." "So... what brings you to Rome?" he asked their new acquaintance. @Atrice @Chevi

"Well, we've got more than enough guest rooms, I'll get the slaves to sort out a room nearby for her," he told his wife. Or he'd get his sister to, or something; doubtless things would be thrown into total confusion if he were to try. He didn't have the feminine touch that no doubt Horatia would expect to offer the woman in question. He looked up from the scroll as Horatia dozed off, but smiled to himself and continued his reading, enjoying the words and simple delight of reading to his wife and brand-new son. Until he was brought to himself again by the baby whimpering and then beginning to cry; he was probably hungry - or something. The room was bound to have womenfolk descend en masse any moment now, and he grinned at his wife, picturing their scandalised faces when they realised the baby's father was present mere hours after the birth. "I should probably go - you'll want your privacy, I think," he told her, reaching for the cord to tie the scroll closed. He would continue where he'd left off for her another time. @Sara

"Well, let's face it, Lucius - it's hardly difficult to be more motivated than you when it comes to the cursus," Gaius rejoined, with a smile and a slight roll of his eyes, before turning to address the lady. "And of course you may join us - you're not interrupting anything except a bit of teasing." Pinaria Gaia, widowed with a six-year-old son, and evidently already acquainted with Lucius. He wondered if she was familiar with his brother's more outrageous feats and actions. If she kept up with the gossip, it was more than likely that she was. It was Lucius' own choice and he was going to be doing it under an equite name, so it was hardly going to reflect on the Vipsanii-Roscii. Well, not for much longer, anyway. @Chevi @Atrice

"There's a reason they don't allow women to take part in politics. You'd probably be terrifyingly efficient at it," Aulus returned, lifting his winecup in a silent toast to his sister. "You are more than welcome to make use of my library - and when you've exhausted that, doubtless Horatia will be happy to share hers with you as well." Though he didn't dare to think what Calpurnia would make of the military treatises Aulus had (and had a sneaking suspicion that Horatia had too). "Charity work of some sort might be good - if you have any need for anything, even if it's to stop over-zealous Senators from interfering, just let me know." He was about to ask what sort of thing she had in mind but didn't think she really had an idea yet. That would come, in time - for now, she had only just left the Atrium Vestae, there was no need to have everything planned out in meticulous detail just yet. @Chevi

Metella was young. Younger than the Consul's wife, anyway. Ex-Consul. Whatever. Women had been getting pregnant and giving birth for gods knew how long, Metella was far from the first woman to be in this situation - and Longinus had told them that he'd pay for a good midwife for her, and everything. "I'll get you some water. You might need to burn that tunica, though, I don't think even you will be able to get all the blood out. Though it'd be a good way of threatening people - this is what happens to the people you hate. Or something." "You look half done in - if you need to rest, I'll make it right with Mira and Cassia." And Longinus, but that went without saying. @Chevi

The only other thing that could have made this any better (apart from the absence of Tiberius, but he'd invited his master along so only had himself to blame in the first place!) would be the addition of food. And even Tiberius' presence wasn't quite as dampening as it could have been; he might be a serious sort of person but he did know how to enjoy himself and the smoke could only help with relaxing him. Though he'd had to hide a smirk when Tiberius had breathed a little too deeply and ended up coughing. He lounged back on the cushions, breathing the soft sweet smoke and starting to relax, the tension draining out of his limbs. He rolled over as Azarion produced kucklebones, though of course he had to play according to the Roman method instead of teaching them how to do it properly. Oh well, it was easier to play lying down if you just had to scatter them on the ground and count. He accepted a cup of wine (the cheap stuff; of course Azarion couldn't get the good stuff!) and indicated that Cinnia throw next - she was lying between Azarion and him and he wasn't about to reach over the brazier! "Or we could just tell stories anyway," he said, looking around the small circle of faces. @Atrice @Sarah @Chevi

"I am sure they will be quite willing to step into your place for the next week or so," he told her. His sister was quite forthright enough to act as hostess for any unexpeced (and potentially unwanted) guests, and their daughter would benefit from running the household for a week, with all that that entailed. He tried not to sigh at the thought of having two babies in the house for as long as it would take for Quintus to be weaned; he would not separate mother and child, if the woman's child still lived. "I presume that having made arrangements already, there is a room prepared for her?" Horatia was, as she had pointed out in that oh so eloquent look, exquisitely organised. "If you consider her suitable, I am not going to quibble over it. She may stay as long as you both please, and have the run of the house." He presumed the woman in question was not a slave, anyway - he would have been informed had there been a new slave added to the household, surely? "Of course I will." The crib was brought in at this point and Aulus caught the attention of one of the two house slaves who'd brought it in, directing him to fetch the scroll of Virgil's Eclogues from his study. It was brought, and he unrolled it to find the beginning of the fourth Eclogue to begin reading quietly: "Muses of Sicily, let me sing a little more grandly. Orchards and humble tamarisks don’t please everyone: if I sing of the woods, let the woods be fit for a Consul. Now the last age of the Cumaean prophecy begins: the great roll-call of the centuries is born anew: now Virgin Justice returns, and Saturn’s reign: now a new race descends from the heavens above. Only favour the child who’s born, pure Lucina, under whom the first race of iron shall end, and a golden race rise up throughout the world: now your Apollo reigns. For, Pollio, in your consulship, this noble age begins..." (Fourth Eclogue, translation A.S Kline, found here. Please excuse the spacing, I couldn't make the line spacing work properly!) @Sara