Sharpie

"Oh, well, so long as you don't mind getting taxed, why should anyone else? Because I'm pretty sure you have a higher income than the amount you just named," Gaius said. His former legate was fabulously wealthy after his time in Britannia, he knew that much even if he didn't know exact amounts. "That would be interesting to find out - though there was a debate about some sort of home or... something, for the orphaned kiddies, courtesy of the Augusta. Julia Drusilla Augusta, I mean, that is. You must have missed that one - or maybe you were asleep during the meeting?" He grinned. "To Lucius Something Something Roscianus, may he be the bane of someone else's life for once!" @Sara

It had been quite a while since Marcus had last been with a woman but there were certain urges that men had, and there were certain places a man could go to have those urges met. He knew of the Venus; he thought most men did, especially those of a certain level of income. Not that he'd ever been here before (it was pricey, after all - not that he couldn't afford the prices even as an equestrian; his position meant that he was rather wealthy, for an equestrian). He hadn't expressed a preference as to age and experience when the madam asked him what he wanted, though he did say he'd rather have a female (there were days when he wanted a male but not today). The room he was shown to was well-appointed, its main attraction the woman reclining on the couch. She was perhaps twenty years younger than him which would surely make her one of the most mature and experienced workers here, with blond hair. A womanly figure... Yes, very much to his taste. @Sara

"Io Saturnalia, Domine," Jason said as he accepted the coins, completely unable to prevent himself from adding the honorific thanks to eight years' worth of ingrained habit, even though it was the one day of the year when there weren't any slaves or free and everyone was considered to be the same level (utter nonsense but it was wise to indulge the Romans in their weird ways of thinking). He rolled his eyes at Azarion - what the fuck do you want me to do about it, genius? "Uh, Domine - you probably shouldn't hang around here on your own," he said. Azarion was right, of course, annoyingly so - and if anything happened to Tiberius, of course they'd find a way to blame Tiranês, and probably Cinnia and Azarion too. What else was Tiberius supposed to do, hang around with them? Way to spoil the day, probably. On the other hand... Well, there wasn't anyone else he could hang around with, was there? And it wasn't as though he didn't know how to have fun - witness the party he'd held recently for all the other rich Roman kids! @Atrice @Sarah @Chevi

Ovinia was transferred quickly from Jason to the other slave, though the motion made her moan. "Careful," he said. "Some bastard cut her, with a knife." Another slave pushed past him, obviously going to fetch the master and a medicus, and the door was shut firmly in his face, though not before he heard whisper Ovinia whisper 'thank you' and returned it with a worried smile and "Any time, Domina!" And then he was left in the street without his cloak, which was still wrapped around Ovinia, and with his tunic streaked with blood that wasn't his own. What a state to have to return home in - he could only hope that his master wouldn't be too angry with him for losing his cloak and probably ruining his tunic. If the blood didn't come out, anyway. "I hope you get better soon," he said to the closed door, before turning to head back up to the Palatine. If he found the monster who'd hurt Ovinia (and Azarion, and killed Azarion's friend), he would have to be physically restrained from killing him, slowly. @Sara - thank you!!

"A long way north and east of here," he repeated automatically. "Yellow and red with a green door," he said. That should be easy enough to find - and was. He had to put her down so he could bang on the door, though he kept his other arm around her, trying his best not to jostle her too much and make the pain worse. The hammering finally brought someone - of course it was Saturnalia and the ostiarius was not at his post. "She's been hurt, she needs a medicus," he told the person who finally slid the ostiarius' spy-hole open. @Sara

Tiberius had never previously shown any interest in Jason's background or history or anything else about him; he was there, he followed orders and made Tiberius' life easier by taking care of all the small things, fetching and carrying and tidying. Tiberius' interest was new, and Jason wondered what he had been reading or discussing that had led to this sudden curiosity. "Sarmatia, Domine," he said neutrally, hoping that this piece of information was not something that could be used against him somehow in the future - even if Tiberius himself wouldn't do so right now, that didn't preclude him or anyone else from it at some point. Though Tiberius was not duplicitous as some people were... and if anyone knew that, his body slave did. Sarmatia was outside the Empire anyway, and did not have the sort of riches that made the Romans want to conquer a place. The riches came to Rome from the East via a much more southern road than any route through Sarmatia, a route that was not snowbound in the depths of winter. @Sarah

"A different name - you might know her as Cynane?" He hadn't used her slave name because that was something that their Roman masters called her, as they called him 'Jason'. It wasn't her name, not how she thought of herself (at least, he presumed she still thought of herself as Cinnia, as he thought of himself as Tiranês.) And if they couldn't use their own names among themselves, well, they might as well admit the Romans had won. "So what are we going to do, then?" he asked, putting one arm around each of his companion's shoulders and looking between them. He frowned as Azarion stiffened under his arm as someone walked past. Someone with a very familiar walk and red cloak. Ah, come on! Really? Couldn't he have one day to himself? Not that he disliked his master on a personal level but, well, they weren't friends for a very good reason. @Atrice @Chevi @Sarah

"It's outside the Empire, it shares a border with the province of Pannonia," he said. "Very nearly there, stay with me. And it happened because... because there's an evil man roaming the streets who likes to hurt people and he found you. It isn't your fault, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all." She probably blamed herself, Tabiti knew plenty of other people would blame her, but she wasn't the one who'd done this to herself. "Is this the right bakery?" he asked, pausing for a moment to let her lift her head and take a look at their surroundings. @Sara

"I should have guessed you'd like the people - you seem like the sort of lady that people like in return, too," he told her. "And you're right, I'm not from Italia. I'm from Sarmatia, originally - that's a long way north and east of here." He was trying not to jostle her too much, and knew he had to be as fast getting her home as he could, yet he needed to be sure of his footing. "You like parties - I think you were at the one at the palace recently. Did you see the fire-eaters there?" @Sara

"I promised," Jason told her as she grasped the neck of his tunic in a death grip, scratching him by accident as she did so. "I know... I know you Romans don't think much of your slaves, and that you can't trust us, but I promised. I'll swear it, if you want." He carefully put his arm around her, ready in case she shied away or otherwise resisted, and then bent to get his other arm behind her knees. She was heavier than she looked, but he was strong enough for this. "You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need," he said, acutely conscious that he should not let her sleep, not yet, not if she were to make it out of here - she'd lost so much blood it surely wouldn't take much for her to slip away even now. He had seen that happen before, once, and the possibility of it happening to Azarion had haunted his dreams for years until he'd seen his cousin recently very much alive. "Talk to me... What do you like best about Rome?" @Sara

"Good. Good, I'm glad." He found himself fantasising about ways to kill the bastard who'd done this - top of the list being to tie him up and fill him full of arrows, but none aimed anywhere vital so that he could bleed out the way he'd left Ovinia to. "I know." He took a breath. "I don't think I'm going to be able to find a litter at this time of night, and you're not going to like this idea, but I think it would be easiest for me to carry you." She could hide her face that way, and just be anonymous as another Saturnalia reveller. He bit his lip. She knew his master; she would hate for him to learn about this, any of this. "My master is Tiberius Claudius Sabucius," he told her, trying to steady her without putting his hands anywhere painful or intimate or - anywhere on her at all, really. @Sara

"Well, you're not walking home," Jason said, offering his arm to help her stay upright. "You're in no state to try that." He bent for her purse, holding it out for her to take - she hadn't even been robbed. What kind of a man would do what he'd done to someone like Ovinia, who seemed about Azarion's age? (Probably the same kind of man who'd done what the Romans had done to Azarion - except Ovinia was one of their own people!) "He didn't try anything else, did he?" Had he forced himself on her? And it was Saturnalia. Litters and carrying chairs were bound to be in short supply at this time of year, at this time of day. He swore under his breath in his own language. The only other thing would be to walk her home, as if she was drunk - but there was no way at all that she'd accept that as a solution. He would have to pray he could find a carrying chair somewhere, somehow. @Sara

"I promise, I won't say your name, but don't make me promise not to tell at all, because... because he has to be stopped before he hurts someone else, the way he's hurt you... and others, too." Azarion had mentioned other women, as well as his friend who'd been actually killed. "I know there are people looking, what you've said will help them. Is there anything else you can tell me that will help?" He wanted to hug her, she was shaking so badly, but knew that would scare her even more, and she was already absolutely terrified. "We're on the Esquiline already, do you know where your home is from here?" he asked. If he could get directions before she attempted to stand, it would be helpful - he didn't want to think how much blood she had lost, and if she passed out and he didn't know where her home was, it was going to be extremely awkward. It was already that, of course. @Sara

"No," Jason admitted. "I work in the Palace - I think I've seen you there, at a party." Probably a lifetime ago, for her. "But I know people. People who can make things happen." His master would be furious that a friend of his had been attacked and would use all the resource he had to stop it, and Azarion had said there were other people looking for this man. His cousin would not be happy that he'd struck again, but would be very happy to know Jason knew a bit more about what the bastard looked like. "Tall, with blue eyes... Knives in a bag under a dark green knee-length cloak." He gently took her hand, rubbing it, holding it lightly enough that she could pull away. "You're being very very brave, Ovinia. Thank you." He looked around at their surroundings. She did not belong in this place; she'd been a guest of his master's at the Palace, which meant she was an equite at the very least. Her family would be frantic! "We need to get you out of here, I think. Where do you live?" @Sara

"Ovinia," Jason repeated. "That's a pretty name." Hip.. hip... How was he going to manage anything there? He carefully wadded up another strip of cloth and gave it to her. "Press this there, it'll help," he said, and nodded, though she probably couldn't see. O Tabiti, give me wisdom, he implored silently. There was no reply. "Yes," he said in answer to her question. "My cousin - he's a charioteer for the Whites. He was attacked by a man but managed to get away, though he was cut in the arm." He hoped Azarion would forgive him for telling her about it. "He can't talk, though, so he couldn't really describe him." It wouldn't help her, it really wouldn't, to hear that her attacker had killed someone. "You're being very brave, Ovinia," he told her, soothingly. "Please help me catch the man who did this to you." @Sara

"I know, I know," Jason said. "Look, I'm just going to go around your shoulder and under your arm, here, twice, like this, and then let's tie it off, nice and easy, there. Just like that." Once it was done, he sat back again. "Where else did he cut you - and I know you don't want to remember him at all, but the sort of person who did this is going to do it again unless he's stopped." Azarion's description of the man - Jason was almost positive it was the same one - had been lacking because he couldn't speak to describe how tall or short or fat or thin he was. "I don't even know your name," he added. "Though you don't have to tell me if you don't want. But this is important, and you don't have to remember it afterwards." And if he had his way, he'd let Azarion fill the man full of arrows in repayment, and bleed out in the hot Italian sun. "Would it make it easier if I told you I know someone else who was hurt by him?" @Sara

"All right, I won't - but that needs bandaging and I don't know if you're going to manage to do it without me touching you," he told her. "But I promise I won't do anything that isn't going to help. So we're going to get you bandaged up and then we're going to get you home." Somehow. This was all starting to sound very familiar, somehow. He'd been summoned to the stables of the White racing faction because his cousin had been hurt by a man with a knife, who'd come back to where he'd killed a girl. "Can you describe the man who did it - anything about him at all?" he asked, holding out a strip or two of cloth in case she preferred to try bandaging herself rather than let him do it. @Sara

"I'm here," Jason said. "I'm not going to leave you alone, so if he does come back, he'll think twice." Someone who attacked a poor helpless defenceless woman was unlikely to try it against someone like Jason. "Do you know who it was?" He busied himself with tearing the palla into strips as he spoke. "And where are you hurt - I'm not going to do anything, only try to help. I promise." Romans probably didn't understand the value of a promise, but it might make her a little easier to know he'd given her his word, even though he was a slave and Romans thought as little of their slaves as they did their sandals, for the most part. @Sara

"All right, all right, I'm not going to hurt you." She backed away from him and he let her - she had obviously been through something terrible. There was blood everywhere, and her clothing was in ruins, though she tried to clasp it around herself to shield herself. "Here." He fumbled at the fibula of his cloak, holding it out to her from his position which was now an arm's length from her. "My name's Jason." (It wasn't, he was Tiranês really, in his head and to those who mattered - but he didn't think she would appreciate a Sarmatian name). He shifted back from her a little to give her room and found what seemed to be her palla or something. It was beyond hope as a garment now, but could maybe be used for bandages - he thought she was still bleeding. "You're hurt," he said - she knew that! "I'm going to tear this up, we need to stop the bleeding." @Sara

"H-help! M-my hands..." That didn't sound like someone who was drunk, which had been his initial thought. He moved into the room, trying to let his eyes adjust to the dimness. The woman - it was a woman - was lying on the floor, her clothing ripped and torn, exposing pale skin and darker areas he took for wine at first. "All right, it's all right... I just need to work out what's going on," he said, soothing her in the same way he would a frightened horse as he knelt beside her, lightly running fingers over her to try to ascertain her position and what was going on. He found her lower arm and then her wrist with something braided wrapped around, obviously trying her hands behind her back. It took a moment and some effort to loosen her bonds - whatever had been used was not the rope he would expect if someone had tied up a slave, for instance. "Can you sit up?" he asked, once she was free. "What happened?" @Sara

Jason had been enjoying his Saturnalia. Well, for a given level of 'enjoying' considering that when the festivities ended he'd still be stuck here in this city full of high brick buildings crammed with people. He had spent his free time exploring and was in Regio III, named for the temple to the Egyptian gods Isis and Serapis (he didn't think that his own Api, Tabiti or Papaios would ever receive temples built here - though they were gods of the open steppe and wide skies and would hate these crowded in spaces as much as he did. Someone in a dark cloak pushed past him then as he turned a corner and a moment later he passed a building with an open door. Something made him glance inside to the darkened room. There was someone lying on the floor and he was about to pass by when he paused. It didn't look right; the way the cloth moved in the breeze told him it was silk (he was very familiar with silk from his youth in Sarmatia and his time in the service of the Imperial family) yet nobody in this area would be able to afford silk. He crossed to the doorway. "Is everything all right?" @Sara

"I ought to warn you - Azarion can't talk," Tiranês said. Fucking Romans. "I can understand the signs he uses - it's the trading signs different tribes of our people use." It wasn't good for nuance and details, but Azarion had little problem implying those; his face was as easy to read as deer tracks in mud, after all. And there he was, waiting for them. Well, waiting for Tiranês, anyway. This was going to be... interesting. Probably. "This is Cinnia," he said, once they were close enough to talk properly. "She is the shield-maiden to my master's sister... and my blood-sister." Although he spoke in Latin for Cinnia's benefit, Latin didn't have the right words for the ideas he needed to convey and he used the Sarmatian 'sheld-maiden' and 'blood-sister'. He hoped Azarion wouldn't mind if he spoke Latin; he would much prefer to speak his own language (but it wouldn't be fair to Cinnia. The only person in this whole over-crowded city who could understand it was Azarion, after all. @Atrice @Chevi

"It's all ours," Teutus said, letting her have a look around. He was proud of it, though it wasn't much in comparison to the grandeur of Tertius' domus further up the Esquiline. But it was his own space - their own space now - and he couldn't deny that it needed a woman's touch. He indicated the room he'd taken for his own. "That's my room. You'll have this one." He opened the other door, letting her have a look. He hadn't expected to return home with his own mother, so he hadn't prepared it for her, but it was clean and tidy, with a bed. They'd have to find something for Amandus and Jennus, though Olipor could probably sleep on the couch in the main room. They'd make it work and if they needed more furniture, or better furniture, they could get whatever they needed. Teutus had no intention of living like a slave now that he had a proper income, and nor was he about to let his mother live like a slave, either. Getting in some comforts was not going to break the bank. @Sarah

"No, Domine, the younger of the White charioteers," he said quietly, very nearly missing his master's pause, although he caught himself just in time. "Gratitude, Domine," he added, trying to squash his resentment that he needed permission to be able to see his own family - all the family that was left to him in this city that was far too big in all the wrong ways. Tiberius would receive no word of complaint from the Whites' chief. Jason was not going to give anyone any cause to prevent him from seeing and speaking to Azarion, his last link to his own people (as he was to Azarion). He dropped back into his usual place as his master resumed walking again, looking unusually thoughtful even from Jason's position behind his right shoulder. He wondered what his master was thinking about, though it probably wasn't anything good. @Sarah

Tiranês rolled his eyes. "It's a bath, you generally start by taking your clothes off," he said, and glanced at the man who'd come in with them. He didn't look Roman - but he didn't look like someone from any of the regions he was familiar with, either. "I don't know if it's a good thermae," he said in answer to the other man's question - he didn't know if he was familiar at all with the Sarmatian trade signs that Azarion used to 'talk' with him, but he'd been included in the query just as much as Azarion. Although judging by Azarion's own question, he didn't know the answer to that either. Great. @Atrice @Chevi