Sharpie

"Because they're rich and need to show how much money they've got?" Davus guessed with a shrug, and slowed down as he realised he was walking a little bit too fast for Ione to comfortably keep pace. "The Porta Absidata is all insulae, I think - I don't really know that area." There were far more people living there than in a single Senatorial domus like his master's, which might easily take up as much space (or maybe even more!). "They are enormous, too - with very big rooms and even private gardens inside, though they're like another room of the house and not the size of some gardens like some of the public parks." A single domus like his master's was much bigger than the brothel in Alexandria, or his master's house in Corinthos. @Sara

"Maybe, one day," he said. It wasn't how bows were built, of course, but she didn't know that and she was trying to help. "And gratitude. I've been here for... eight years." Eight and a half, but who was counting - except every day was one more day spent talking a foreign language and surrounded by foreign people, without the endless horizon and clean bright air of the steppes. A long way from home. "Have you tried your instrument?" he asked, looking at it - it was so very different from anything he had ever seen before. He couldn't begin to work out how it operated, or what it might sound like. It was probably very different from the haunting sound of the duduk, and the three-stringed kemenche. @Sara

To the Shades of the Underworld In memory of Lucia Safinia, of the White chariot faction 17 years old loyal and hard-working M Eppius Parthenicus and her friends of the White faction set this up May the one who sent her to you never find rest

Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit. The levity dropped away, leaving him as serious as he had ever been in his life. "Yes - but you survived, Domina. You lived. And we're going to catch him so he doesn't hurt anybody else like that, again. I swear it." He would make it a blood oath if necessary, though Romans doubtless didn't do such things and he didn't know what use he would be, truly, to the group as a slave. He took a breath and nodded at the change of subject. She was rattled by what he'd said - he hadn't realised that she didn't know someone had died - and seemed in no state to talk of her own interests. "We use short bows, because we shoot from horseback. They might look strange to you." He sketched the double S shape of a recurve bow in the air. "They don't take as much strength to draw as you might think - it takes more strength the further back the arrow is drawn before it's loosed, but the speed is in the flexibility of the bow. I wish I could show you." He wished he would ever be able draw a bow again, but that was probably never going to happen. @Sara

"He's all right. He has a theory..." Jason didn't know this woman but kept his eyes on her face. She didn't want reminders of what had happened to her, that was plain enough, but there was a sign there that she was interested in the group, in what they were trying to do. He would stop and change the subject completely (or let her do so) if his guess was wrong, though. "His friend was killed, about a year ago, and he came across the man recently. He thinks, maybe, the man came back to the same place he'd had success, for some reason of his own. My cousin was in the wrong place at the wrong time - he saw the man's face." But he's a slave and can't talk to tell us exactly what he looks like. And his face lit up in a smile. "Yes! You remembered! Tabiti is... ah. Like Vesta? The most important of our gods, she looks after the family and the hearth." He shook his head as she asked if he played anything. "No. I am - I was, a rider and and archer, like all my people. We have drums and pipes, and something like a lute but played with a bow." And songs, too, but he wasn't really much of a singer and they'd sound all wrong in nice civilised surroundings like a Roman domus, and without the proper instrumental accompaniment. @Sara

Davus didn't blush or get flustered as Ione's cloak fell open as she stepped back to avoid another litter. He had been born the son of a whore in Alexandria, and was as used to seeing naked women as clothed women. Or he had been, things had been different since he'd been taken away from Alexandria. "My master's house is on the Esquiline," he said. "It's one of the seven hills - most of the regions are named for something important found there, like the Circus Maximus or the Temple of Isis and Serapis." Technically, the latter was within the region known as the Esquiline, but it gave its name to the third region. Davus didn't get the logic there, but it hardly mattered. "Each region has its own character, too, some of them rougher or nicer than others. Or with more expensive houses, or cheaper insulae." @Sara

Azarion leaned closer to the wall - obviously, something had caught his attention. Rufus stepped closer to see what appeared to be a list of names. At the top, in rather unsteady letters, someone had written Who do you most want to fuck? "Well. It seems you've made an impression on someone," he said, and then felt the blood come to his face as he read his own name. It needn't be him - there was more than one Rufus in Rome, of course, except that next to it someone had queried, which one? and the first hand had replied the redhead. Well, great. That wasn't at all embarrassing - there were plenty of other names listed. 'Alexius' showed up three times! "Looks like you've got a secret admirer!" @Chevi

"No, I don't think so," he replied, leaning against the doorpost as she bent to remove her shoes - light things that they were, totally unsuitable for wearing outdoors but perfectly suited for indoor wear. Her dress crept up as she did so, revealing the white skin of her thigh, hinting at what else it concealed. He was enjoying the hints and the anticipation. Somehow, he thought she was not used to this sort of slow progression, but the quiet anticipation was just as much a part of the experience - Marcus was a patient man, with a long view of things, which surprised people who thought that racing was all about speed and the short sharp fury of galloping horses. That was only a tiny part of his trade - the most public part, to be sure, but the skill of his job was everything that wasn't seen, which led up to what was seen. "I am maybe going to surprise you, but what would you like to talk about?" he asked, sipping his wine. "I have no doubt that you're a good actress, able to feign interest in a great many very dull things indeed, but surely you have some preferred topics of your own?" @Sara

She wriggled deeper into his embrace and Attis tightened his arms around her. "It's going to be all right," he told her. They had their master's reassurance that it would be, at least after the child's birth, but that was nine whole months away and anything might happen before then. He raised his hand to stroke her soft red hair, wishing he could come up with the right sort of comforting words she obviously needed. This was the sort of emotional moment that always led to him running his mouth and that would be supremely unhelpful right now. "It's all right," he told her. "You're strong - you've always been strong. And you'll be a really good mother." She'd be a far better mother than he would be as a father, there was no doubt of that at all, though he'd do his best. @Chevi

"I am sure he will be thrilled to meet him - and so will your mother be, too, I'm sure." He reached to tear a piece of bread from the loaf for her, and then some for himself too, dipping it into the olive oil that had been provided. "You are a flatterer, I am a terrible poet! But you are the dearest of women to suggest otherwise. And it is real - he is real." His expression was soft as he looked at his wife and son. "Motherhood looks very good on you, my dove." @Sara

"It's perfect." It wasn't, but it could be made more perfect now - his mother had an eye for things that Teutus knew he didn't. It needed a feminine touch, really, something he was distinctly lacking in. "Whatever you think we need, we can get. And, if you want a loom or anything, that can be arranged, too." They'd need a couple of straw pallets for Jennus and Amandus to sleep on, too, which could be easily stowed away under Varinia's and Teutus' beds during the day. "This is your home. You can do anything with it that you want - if you need money to buy anything, you can have it." He'd leave Jennus and Amandus with her for the first few days or so, in case she did want to buy anything large enough that she would need help bringing it home. He had work for Olipor down at the warehouse. He pulled his mother into a hug, grateful beyond words that he had found her again. @Sarah

"Not on your own, for one thing," Attis said bracingly. "You've got us, all of us," he added - they weren't the only two slaves in the household by a long way, and the others had experience of caring for children, or childbirth, all the things Attis and Metella didn't have. "It's going to be all right." He gently pulled her away from the column and into his arms. He might be the jokester of the house but he could be serious when he needed to be. "We'll figure it out, together." @Chevi

Attis followed Metella out into the atrium. She sagged against a pillar and he rubbed her shoulder, his expression one of concern. "Do you need to lie down again?" he asked, trying to find something that he could do in the face of everything he couldn't. He would do what he could for her but she was the one who was going to have the baby and ultimately he could only really be a bystander. At least Longinus was a good master. And Metella was young - and without any family here. Well, Attis would just have to do his best. @Chevi

"My cousin," he said, and sighed. Of course, slaves didn't have families - even if a slave gave birth to twins, none of them were related in Roman eyes. They'd merely be a matching set or something, like two marble tables designed to complement one another. Bloody Romans. "I understand, Domina. I don't think he'd be like that but... I understand." Why would she want to risk it - and Jason could be wrong, of course. Tiberius had ample capacity to surprise him, even after three years together. He was thoughtful and considerate but he was just as Roman as anyone else here. "But, there's a group of us who know, and who are looking. My cousin's part of it, too, and there's a woman, a plebeian girl. And your vigile and an ex-gladiator. We'll catch him." She didn't want to think about it, of course. "If you think of anything else that might help, you'll tell your vigile, won't you?" Not the slave, who legally would have to be tortured just so the court would be happy he'd passed on the message and hadn't missed anything or added anything. Probably. "What in Tabiti's name is that?" he asked, the strange contraption on the table catching his eye as he sought for a way to change the subject to something hopefully a lot less uncomfortable for Ovinia. @Sara

"Like... my heart is not big enough for how much love is in it," Aulus murmured, squeezing her hand as she linked her slender fingers with his larger ones. "Like I would take on an army single-handed if I had to, to protect you. Both of you." I love you. The words seemed unconsciously spoken, unforced, and completely natural for perhaps the first time - or maybe it was the first time Horatia had ever spoken the words aloud and he hadn't realised it. "I love you too, my dove," he told her, stroking her thumb with his own. "My own precious one, the mother of my son." There was an added nuance and depth there because of the addition of Titus to their small intimate circle, but she was not precious and beloved only because of Titus. "It's strange. I have more love for you, both... I thought, somehow, that I'd divide the love I already had, but it's just grown." He gave her a rueful roll of the eyes. "I am no poet, my sweet - I am truly glad you've never wanted me to be, I'd be terrible at it!" @Sara

"You told them...?" Jason took the offered seat, and tried not to roll his eyes at typical Roman heavy-handedness. It wasn't Ovinia's fault that Roman society was so stratified that a slave couldn't sit on the same level as a free person. If they sat at all, it was below the person they were talking with. Romans! "I need to thank you for nearly giving me palpitations, then, Domina." he said lightly. "I thought they were going to accuse me of being the one who'd done it. Your Vigile officer isn't exactly one for subtlety." Tiberius would have been well within his rights to have sat in on that conversation, which would have blown Ovinia's secret wide open - and if they had been any more like vigiles accusing a slave, he would have. "I promised not to tell - I'll swear it, if you need, on anything you choose. But I can't promise he won't find out. He's clever, like that." And doesn't like mysteries and things he doesn't know about, he added in the privacy of his own thoughts. @Sara

"He probably didn't like what was going on, or the strange face looking at him." He gently reached to stroke his son's cheek with a finger, marvelling at the tiny features and soft skin. "He's a marvel, Horatia." If he looked awestruck, he didn't know it. He had eyes for nothing except his son and his wife. "I didn't know being a father would feel like this," he confessed, finding seats already set in the shade - the slaves knew Horatia's favourite spots as well as Aulus did. If the truth were known, Aulus wouldn't have cared if his son had bothered the slaves, they were there to be bothered and this was his son and, hopefully one day, his heir. Such a heavy responsibility for such a precious tiny thing - with, apparently, a huge toothless yawn. @Sara

"No - well, sort of," Jason said, the confession hanging between them. "You said to come and see you if I wanted and... I needed to know that you were well, and being cared for. And - there are people looking for... him." He kept his eyes on her face. Yes, probably not the sort of thing expected of a nice well-trained deferential slave, but Jason wasn't a nice deferential slave except when he chose to be, and right now he was too concerned about Ovinia. Who did not look too thrilled to be confronted so abruptly with a reminder of the awful day. He could empathise, very much so - he had equally brutal memories of his own, from the day he'd been enslaved, but saying so wouldn't help. "I didn't expect you to send a message to the palace," he added in reassurance. He was slave, she was a senator's daughter, it would hardly be right for her to send a word of thanks to a mere slave. "I haven't told my master, though I think he knows one of the investigators." Tiberius was a clever, canny sod; he'd pretty soon work things out once he got wind of the investigation. @Sara

"I won't sell the child." Attis couldn't help sagging with relief. Despite all his words and reassurances to Metella, there was always the worry that this time he might be wrong, this time Longinus would do it. Gods knew Longinus joked about selling Attis, or made other pointed comments that threw their difference in status into sharp relief. What might be a joke to Longinus carried just enough of a real threat that Attis, despite everything, still had the worry in the back of his mind so that he couldn't ever quite relax, not fully. "Thank you, domine," he said, vowing that Longinus wouldn't even know there was a child in the slave quarters if he didn't want to, that he'd never be disturbed by it if possible. There would be as little disruption to Longinus' life and lifestyle as possible. "We didn't mean to disturb you," he said again, feeling for the doorpost so that he could retreat and let Longinus return to his work. @Sara @Chevi

Come and see me - if you want. Jason didn't think that Ovinia would remember the offer, or be willing to entertain a slave, but that didn't stop him approaching the yellow and red painted house with the green door. He wasn't going to be allowed access through the front door, but it was worth a try - and he had no intention of walking all the way round the house to try to locate a service door and probably equally unhelpful slaves there. He knocked, and waited. The ostiarius looked out from his spy-hole with a frown that became distinctly less friendly when he saw that Jason was a slave, and alone. "Slaves go round the back." "I've got a message for your mistress," Jason said. He didn't like name-dropping or using his position as his master's slave - he'd been the son of a chief, he hadn't needed to rely on his association with anyone else, once. "From my master Tiberius Claudius Sabucius, to be delivered in person to Ovinia - Camilla." She hadn't given her second name, but Jason had the sharp mind of a Sarmatian and knew that there was only one Ovinia his master was any acquaintance of. "I should still send you round the back," the ostiarius muttered, but grudgingly opened one leaf of the double door. Just enough for Jason to squeeze through. "And I hope your prick shrivels up and drops off," Jason told him in Sarmatian in a perfectly friendly tone of voice. "Thank you." @Sara

"I have no idea," Tiranês replied. The Roman horses were definitely bigger than the small sturdy animals he was used to, and seemingly less placid, too. "I bet they can't train them properly, either - they look like they'd bolt given half a chance. Not horse people, that's clear!" Which meant that they were not people he felt he had any sort of kinship with, unlike the Parthians to the south or the Dacians further west. "I bet they're lousy archers, too," he added, watching the fortress keenly to see if he could spot one of the famed legionaries. @Chevi

Aulus found himself reluctant to hand over even a screaming baby to his own wife - but then, he'd never felt anything like the depth of love that had washed over him when Horatia had set his son down. It had been the more powerful for being so totally unexpected. He transferred Titus to Horatia's waiting arms and then grew aware of the slaves around them. "All right, you'll see enough of him over the next few months - you've got work to do." He wound his arm around Horatia's waist. "We'll have some refreshments out in the garden," he said, the direction addressed to nobody in particular but enough to set the wheels in motion to ensure that somebody would bring them something soon. The garden was Horatia's retreat; he would always associate her with gardens in his thoughts. "I can't believe I'm a father," he confided, taking Horatia through the tablinum to the quiet serenity of the garden's green space. @Sara

"Thank you," Aulus replied, giving his wife and the mother of his son (his son!!) a smile - he didn't think he would ever be able to stop smiling now that he'd started, and he looked back down to the baby he was holding, utterly entranced by the snub nose and blue eyes. He was only vaguely aware of the slaves' murmured congratulations and shifted a little to give them a better look. "There's a bulla for him, of course," he added, addressing Horatia. No freeborn, well-to-do son of a Senator would go through childhood without one, of course - it was there to ward away evil as much as to proclaim his free status. That tiny face scrunched up and there was a piercing wail - apparently his son didn't appreciate the mention of a bulla, or perhaps he was just fed up of being held by his father, or any one of a dozen other things that were mysteries to good Roman men. Aulus had no clue what to do and it was only instinct that tightened rather than loosened his grip as Titus began squalling in earnest. @Sara

Aulus only had eyes for his wife as she entered the atrium, followed by her girls and the wet-nurse and carrying a bundle that was the most precious thing in the world. Just before reaching him, though, she quietly bent to set the bundle down, swiftly drawing back the wrappings that matched her own blue stola, the mark of a married woman. "Your son." He looked down and then bent, carefully picking him up, surprised at the weight of such a little thing. He was utterly entranced by the tiny human, with soft downy blond hair (though not much of it at all) on a head that was surely too big, and such tiny tiny fingers and toes. How did such a perfectly tiny human come from just a few moments of pleasure between a man and woman? "Titus Calpurnius Praetextatus." He glanced up, only just long enough to meet Horatia's eyes, before looking back down. "Such a big name for such a little baby." If he looked awkward holding the baby, it was because he'd never done so before, though he'd cornered the wet-nurse when she had a moment away from the mother and child to ask her what he should do. The baby was small enough to rest in the crook of Aulus' arm as he fumbled to rearrange the wrappings around him. @Sara

"I've heard about snow but it doesn't get cold enough in Rome for it - you have to go to the mountains for that, all the way north, before you get to Transalpine Gaul." He wasn't even sure if the Apennines were high enough for snow but it wasn't as though he'd seen those, either. He shrugged. "You've gone further from home than I have, really. I've been here in Rome, and down the river to Ostia, and to my father's villa in the country. And that's about it. I was thinking about visiting Hispania one day, though." That idea was mainly because he'd dreamed of getting away from his father and all the discordant relationships in his father's house, and all the complications those relationships produced. It would be nice to be somewhere where things were nice and simple and people didn't expect you to do something and then get all upset and annoyed because you hadn't done that one thing, which you weren't even aware they'd expected you to do. "Italia is very beautiful in its own way, but I think it's probably very different to Germania," he added, and poured another cup of wine for them both. @Atrice - so sorry on the delay!