Sharpie

"No, my name is Tiranês - Tiranes, if it's easier for you to say. My master calls me Jason." He shrugged. It was an old hurt by now, but one he would never dare to confess to Tiberius - not that his master ever really conversed with him about things like that. He still seemed to think, on some level, that once someone became a slave, it erased all their memories and everything that had gone before that point in time. "It's not so bad, and you're very pretty," he said, in response to her offer. Taking her from behind would just put him on the same level as that soldier who'd had his way with him, in the grass, that time. "Can I ask... the man who did it, did he come here often, and choose to cut?" he asked instead, quietly, gently, still putting pieces together even now. "Don't tell me, if you'd rather not, Ione." @Sara

"That wasn't what I meant," he said. "It's nice to talk, isn't it, instead of having to be quiet." And pretend you have as much sense, feeling and emotion as a table. "I'm pretty sure that if I were to stay here for too long, they'd charge me double, even if we didn't do anything except talk," he said. "Ione. Is that your name, or just what they call you?" It was a neat distinction; the Romans probably thought of 'Jason' as being his name. He merely thought of it as a designation, what they chose to call him. His name was Tiranês and it always would be. "Do I pay less if we just talk?" he added, curious. Probably not; that would be ridiculous - anyway, who came to a brothel to just talk? "Or if we get straight down to it, do I get kicked out as soon as we're done?" He crossed the room to sit next to her. She was actually quite pretty, in a wide-eyed sort of way, though there was a neat scar at her collarbone that looked out of place. He raised his hand to trace it, pulling back a moment before he would have touched her. Scars were personal things, after all. "How did you get that?" he asked, gently, and his eyes widened. He knew, even before she said anything. This was another of that barber's victims - someone had said he went to a brothel and cut the girls, and hadn't they said it was the Elysium? @Sara

"Is that what they tell you to say?" he asked. It sounded awkward, as if she was reciting something taught rather than something she'd thought of herself. She didn't seem the sort of person who could manage seductive very well - though that could be an act, of course. Play the naive waif and get more money out of the customers because they feel sorry for you. The naivety was reinforced by the very next question. She didn't seem to be at all fazed by being naked while he still had his tunic on and the contrast was intriguing. He took his sandals off and pulled his own tunic over his head. She could look, if she liked, he had nothing to be ashamed of, though others might disagree. There was a collection of whip scars across his back - he had been confused and angry in his first years as a slave, fighting back because of the confusion and anger. He'd only really properly settled down with Tiberius, whose even moods and quiet calmness had done much to temper Jason. "Yes - I suppose you don't get much time," he said. "What do they call you? You know my name, it's silly not to know yours." @Sara

He followed her to her room - or at least, the room where she conducted her business. He was under no illusion that she actually slept there, although if she did, she had more privacy than he did; there was no sign that there were any more occupants than just her. "I'm not your master - I'm not anyone's master," he said, his own Latin accented. She could see the tag around his neck, even if she couldn't read it. The curse of being a barbarian slave, he'd had a tag for eight years and they'd made sure he couldn't get it off. Nobody trusted the barbarian not to run, after all. "Call me... call me Tiranes," he said. He'd been about to give her the name his master called him but the sudden temptation to hear his own name again was too strong. Even if she couldn't pronounce it the way he did, he hadn't heard it in such a long time. The only other person who knew it was Cinnia, who was also a foreigner here. She was older than she'd first seemed, now that he was closer to her, though there was something young and naive about her. "I don't want to hurt you," he told her, stepping forward to let the curtain fall behind him, a mere nod to actual privacy. What else could you expect from a place like this, of course. This felt awkward but he summoned the part of him that still remembered what it was like to be the son of a chief, and reached to tug at the fabric wrapped around her. "Why don't you take this off?" he suggested, reaching for his own belt at the same time. Precipitate, perhaps, but she probably couldn't be too long with a single customer, especially one so obviously a slave himself. @Sara

Jason was not generally one to want to pay for sex; he was usually quite happy not thinking about it or anything. But things had changed over the last few months, to the degree that he was here in a brothel not entirely of his own accord although he hadn't protested too hard about it. His master and his friend had hired a couple of extremely expensive prostitutes to come to the Villa of Sallust recently (Jason had wondered quite how Tiberius had managed to get to the ripe age of twenty without doing the dirty with someone but dismissed it as another one of his foibles). This place was the exact opposite; none of the seven lined up could hold a candle to the exquisite woman Junius Silanus had procured for Jason's master. He dismissed the boys; even seeing them reminded him uncomfortably of that horrible day with a Roman soldier grunting and groaning on top of him. That memory nearly made him walk out - that memory was what had put him off doing this for as long as it had. Of course the proprietor (you could hardly call him the madam!) had picked out the cheapest whores in the place; Jason's slave tag might not be the biggest in Rome but it wasn't exactly the most discreet thing to have round your neck. "I'll take - I'll take her," he said, picking almost at random, though he gave the girl a smile and very nearly changed his mind when he saw how young she looked. It was too late, though, the proprietor was already herding the others out. At least she was wearing something, he thought, even if it was only the meagre toga worn by Roman prostitutes. @Sara

Teutus Quinctilius Varus January 77 Teutus had some extremely mixed feelings about his family and the situation and arrangements around them. His feelings for Charis could have developed into something more romantic if it had not been for his father's unwitting intervention there, but had transmuted into something more fraternal, as if she were a younger sister. It felt distinctly odd that she was now, technically, his step-mother - it would be more than technically if Tertius had not been limited to simple concubinatus with her and had been able to marry her properly and legally. Technical mother-in-law or not, the son she'd borne was his half-brother and Tertius' full acknowledged heir, and that still hurt. Though not as much as it had done once. He'd poured it out to his mother and listened to her own story and thoughts and found some solace, even though nothing could really heal the wounds inflicted over so many years. Still, none of it was Charis' fault and certainly none could be attributed to any actions of Teutus' half-brother, who was still barely a child. He felt more enthusiasm for Charis' presence this evening than he did for her son, but allowed her to bring her son because his mother would like to see him and would no doubt chide Teutus in her own quiet way if he made Charis leave the boy at home. It was to be a quiet, private, meal with the three of them - he had little doubt that Proserpina could take care of the child for a short time if he needed a nap or anything. It took more effort than he'd thought it would to remain seated when a knock sounded at the door. He was no longer a slave, he had slaves of his own now, in fact, and it wouldn't be seemly to answer his own door. Olipor moved to open it, standing aside to let Charis enter. "Charis," he said, getting to his feet and crossing to offer her a brotherly kiss on the cheek. @Sara @Sarah Title translation: The gods are on the side of the strongest

November 76 It had been a while since that first real conversation between Jason and his master. Jason had found himself getting caught up in a search for a killer who had attacked and hurt his cousin, though there was little chance he would ever get caught and brought to justice. Tiberius had been as busy as ever, and raised the idea of moving into the Villa of Sallust which was apparently situated in the Gardens of Sallust, belonged to the Imperial Family and had been empty for some while. Jason was not particularly in favour of such a move, not right after receiving permission to spend time in the stables when his work was done and he wasn't needed - who knew if Tiberius would take any horses with him to the new house, if there was even room for them there. Right now, such a proposal was mere theory and Jason had had enough time to speak with the blacksmith, and the stable master inwardly revelling at their dubious looks when he told them what he wanted - and calmly over-riding their protests with the information that it was Tiberius Claudius Sabucius himself who wanted the things made, however outlandish they might seem. It had been quite a while before Tiberius had a free day and Jason could raise the idea of that lesson he'd requested, suggesting that however unRoman it might be, Tiberius might want to don a pair of braccae such as the soldiers wore, and he'd thank Jason for it later. Anyway, they would help him stay warm. "Normally, among my people, the person who wants to get to know a horse, to ride him, will spend time with him, grooming him. Even the chief." He gave a half-smile and shrug. "But I don't think that will work here, somehow, domine." Tiberius was not the sort to get his hands dirty in that way - he was a Roman, and the Romans made their slaves do that kind of thing. @Sarah

Going for a ride and not coming back from it... it was a tempting thought, extremely tempting. Although Tiberius' outright telling Jason that he trusted him had done a number on his head. It wasn't as though he'd never thought about running away, it was just that the cold light of day had always thrown cold water over any idea about it, and now he'd found his cousin and felt responsible for his safety. And there was Cinnia to think about, too, now. He wouldn't run away - home was so far away, and he'd been on a boat for some of the journey anyway, so didn't even know if it was possible to get home by land. And now he had the added complication of knowing that Tiberius trusted him, which just made him want to live up to that trust... Well, that was a mind game if ever there was one! Though he somehow didn't think that Tiberius had meant it in any other way than utterly, completely sincerely - the whole conversation had been nothing but totally and utterly sincere, after that first awful misunderstanding. "Charis? No, I don't think you mentioned her. Is she a friend of yours from home?" He hoped so, he hoped that Cinnia had someone from her home, as he had Azarion, now. "Why don't you start at the beginning, it sounds like a long story. Or a complicated one." And one that Cinnia was angry or upset about, from the way she had jumped from one thing to another in a few short words. @Atrice

He couldn't help smiling; his mother had always been optimistic, always trying to see the best in people and in situations. He had missed that - maybe that's what had drawn him to Charis when she had first entered Tertius' household. Perhaps that similarity between Charis and Varinia was what had drawn Tertius to Charis too, but he wasn't going to think about that. "You're right, you're always right," he said, tightening his arm around her for a moment. He had missed having someone with that optimism ever since the rift had developed between himself and Charis, even though the British girl was not his mother and couldn't replace her. He had never really thought he might find his mother again, let alone have her back in his daily life. "Mama, I promise - I promise - that I will always listen and talk it through." He wished he could fix things for her, too. He was only slowly beginning to realise that maybe he'd already begun to do so. "And I'll try to, I don't know, not to try to make Father into something he's not." @Sarah

"I don't... I don't know if Dominus will name him - her," he said hesitantly, once the kiss broke. Longinus wasn't likely to insist on naming their baby himself, but he was a Roman master, and he more than had the right to do so if he wanted. But he was unusual for a Roman master and might let them choose a name themselves. He was being extremely generous in allowing them to keep the baby, Attis knew that. He wouldn't dare presume anything further than that, but didn't know if Metella had considered that or not. @Chevi

"I'm fairly sure your friends don't invite their merchant acquaintances to their nice polite social gatherings, though," Teutus said with a smile. "And I know about Cicero - he was a lawyer, though, so halfway to being a senator. He wasn't a freedman though - even your friends might look askance at a freedman being at their parties." He shook his head, still smiling. "I promise I won't get drunk and I'll do my best not to mope, I can't say more than that. And I will be delighted to bring the things round for you, though I think after the last time, your father is more likely to send me around to the slaves' entrance than let me in the front door." He clapped a hand to his heart. "And you have discovered my one true aim in life, whatever shall I do?" @Sara

"I guess she is," Attis said slowly, with a shrug. "She's not mean-spirited, though." Gods know how - though her grandmother isn't either, really, just a bossy old bat. He was not about to say that out loud, however, especially not in the kitchen, especially not to a newcomer to the house. He'd learned his lesson after the last time - if the master heard him disparaging his mistress, Attis would bet that even the laid-back Longinus would be willing to flay the skin from his back. Especially as Sulpicius Rufus had been given a posting some thousands of miles away. "You'll get used to it, it's not hard really. If you want help or advice or anything, you can talk with Metella or me. Or Vitus - he's the master's secretary and probably better at advice than me. He's nice enough, though he's far too staid and dull." He shrugged. "If you're going to upset anyone, you probably want to keep the dominus happy, though you'll find he's pretty hard to upset unless you set out to do so deliberately. And if you do that, I'm just going to stand back and find some olives to chew on while I watch what happens." He grinned. "It's a pretty laid-back household, really, though. Dominus isn't all that hard to please - and if you're not sure of anything, we'd all prefer you to ask rather than bumble along in the dark and screw up." @Mobius

Den mother... she definitely reminded Rufus of the other Didia he was friends with. He wondered if that description was common to all Didias. The thought made him smile. "That's a good thing to be," he said. "I can't say I've been around chariot stables, or anything like them, but they seem like the sort of people that need mothering. All that bluster and boasting." He returned her grin with one of his own. "I'm the body slave of one of the imperial family - not the emperor, I'm not as important as all that. Really it just means I fetch and carry and make sure his toga hems aren't going to drag in the dirt." @Chevi

This was just about the only open piece of ground inside the city walls, as far as Jason knew. They weren't too far from one of the gates here, and he could understand Tiberius' earlier caution. At least, objectively, he could understand it. Romans weren't apt to trust their slaves - well, no slave owning people really trusted their slaves, in the main, although levels of trust must vary considerably on the individual level. Jason could easily outpace the Praetorians, who sat as if their spines were made either of sand or steel, alternately slumping and sitting as rigid as if they were on parade. There was no softness in their seats, or their hands, and he couldn't help feeling sorry for the horses. Tiberius was doing marginally better, having observed Jason earlier, although the observations hadn't translated to the practical yet. He could probably keep ahead of Tiberius without too much difficulty, even without stirrups. They were still within the city walls, with narrow gates that were always busy. Even if Jason was reckless enough to try to run, and made it through the gates, he had no money, and was several thousand miles away from his home. He was not so reckless, not now, especially after the conversation they had just had, and would not leave Azarion behind if he did choose to run. All he wanted, right now - all he'd wanted since first meeting Ignis - was to let the horse have a good gallop, to get the friskiness out of him. Probably the only exercise he had had in too long was a bit of a walk around the stable yard. No wonder he was impatient and thought to be hard to work with. "I trust you," Tiberius had said a few moments ago, though Jason didn't know how far that went. On the other hand, Tiberius didn't know how far Jason could be trusted, either. Once given permission to let Ignis have his head, he urged the horse into a walk, then a trot (how the Romans could possibly bear trotting when they had to abide bumping along in the saddle, he had no idea) then the much faster three-beat canter that a good horse could keep up across the open steppe for as long as necessary. He was very conscious that the gate was in front of him, his master already fallen behind him and the two Praetorians somewhere far to the rear. He urged the horse in a wide curve, following the open ground away from the gate before coming back to a walk and then a halt. He was not entirely surprised to find his face wet, and reached to pull at Ignis' ears. "Thank you, my friend," he said quietly in Sarmatian as they waited for the others to rejoin them. It was not a wild ride out in the vastness of the steppe, but it was far, far more than he had ever dreamed he might have as a Roman's slave. @Sarah

"Maybe one day - but the difference is that it's hard to see the drivers in a race and gladiators are pretty slow, in comparison." He wasn't exactly a connoisseur of the various entertainments the Romans liked, but he'd been to both the circus and the amphitheatre at different times, accompanying his master. "I'm sure you'd be the best charioteer ever, though." It was a shame they didn't give girls - and women - the chance to do things like that, but they probably didn't want to be shown up by someone supposedly weaker than them. (That was a laugh, though - Rufus had met more than one woman who could easily take on a man and win. Lenia at the local laundry was one such woman.) "So what do you do at the Reds stables, then, if you don't race for them?" @Chevi

"As far as cloth is valuable, yes - it's far finer and much smoother to the touch than wool from anywhere else. I'm no mercer to deal exclusively in cloth, but this, and silk..." He reached to the bolt, pulling the cloth from where it was draped over the top of the roll so that his father could see the drape and feel the quality of the fabric. "I get it spun and woven, like this, but I've sold it unspun as well, for women who like to spin and weave their own cloth." His father would prefer fabric already woven, which meant that his slaves would only need to cut and sew it into clothing rather than having the whole process done at home - there was nobody at home to oversee the spinning and weaving, after all. Antonia would have to be taught that, and soon, by a family friend or someone. Teutus didn't think that Charis would be able to teach her that. He straightened his pallium, taking a moment to think. "I would be pleased to make you a gift of some, if you would like it," he said, somehow not surprised in the least at the lump in his throat. It would make a fine new Senatorial tunic for Tertius - and if not for him, Antonia might like a new winter dress. @Atrice

"A dress length in emerald green, then." He added another note to everything he'd written so far. He would have to consult with his mother as to what, precisely, constituted a 'dress length', not being any sort of seamstress, but it would be easy enough to have a suitable length cut and dyed for her once he knew how much that was. "Oh, I'm sure plenty of them would like to speak to me, but not everyone is as... generous as you are. I think they would see me as a freedman merchant first, before they saw me as a Praetor's son." He gave a rueful shrug, and had to straighten his pallium on his shoulder. He couldn't help arching an eyebrow. "All right, then. If you invite me to your next party, I'll be sure to come, and I promise to do my best not to embarrass you to your friends." It was odd, he thought, looking at the girl sitting opposite him. If things had been different when it came to his legitimacy, and had his father been able to name him as his heir, he could well have married Ovinia. She was everything he could have asked in a wife, and she made it ridiculously easy to talk to her. If not husband and wife, though, perhaps they could be friends - as much as a man and a woman could be friends, anyway. He suspected that they could both use a friend. And he'd made her a promise. Well, he wasn't going to break that, although it remained to be seen whether her father and brothers - and future husband - would veto his inclusion on any potential future guest list. @Sara

"Thank you," he said to his mother, giving her a kiss on the cheek , still marvelling at having to bend his head to do so. He'd grown taller than her while they'd been apart so neither of them had been able to get used to their height difference while he was still growing. "This is Amandus," he said. It might be odd to introduce a slave but he'd given his slaves the day off and the boy was hardly likely to introduce himself. Teutus could only hope he'd grow out of his shyness eventually - he'd started to, with the others in the household, but he was still quiet and withdrawn around people he didn't know. Admittedly, that could be a good trait for a slave, to a point. He nodded to the young man introduced as Jason, who seemed to be a slave. He'd grown used to the fact that Alexius knew a lot of people in Rome, though Teutus couldn't begin to guess how he'd met this Jason and the silent Azarion, or how they'd known to come here. @Sains @Sara @Sarah @Chevi @Atrice

Aulus had gently but firmly insisted that they leave the baby in the capable hands of his wet-nurse and the slaves and that Horatia come to the races - even if she was not interested in the goings-on down on the track, she could sit and chat with her friends. His eldest son and daughter accompanied him to the seats set aside for senators and their families, even as Horatia kissed his cheek and found a seat with one of her oldest friends elsewhere in the senatorial seating. He made his bow to the goddess in whose honour the races were being held, and to the young man in purple sitting next to her statue, sparing a smile for Tiberius Claudius Sabucius, who was also in the Imperial box along with his own coterie. Titus and Calpurnia went to sit with their cousins, leaving Aulus smiling ruefully at his brother-in-law. "I'm beginning to feel surplus to requirements," he said, and looked down at the track. "So where are you putting your money, then?" @Atrice @Chevi @Sarah @Insignia @Sara @Jenn

Attis didn't have much experience of gladiators but if they were anything like legionaries, they were the worst sort of gossiping hens imaginable. Though he would allow that perhaps Amatus hadn't taken part in the gossip. "I mean, if there's an actual problem, tell someone. Don't go making things up or spreading gossip just for the sake of it," he said, trying to clarify what he'd meant. "Cassia is... she's a nice girl. She's like the master in some ways - prefers doing things to reading, isn't above playing pranks, though she's not mean about them. To be honest, she's a bit spoiled because Dominus only has her - she has a bit of a temper when she doesn't get her own way or when she loses an argument. She listens to Metella, though." Amatus' next question made him grin. "It's pretty easy to stay on Metella's good side - she likes people until she doesn't, if they show they're not likeable. Talk to her - she's friendly, you'll find it easy enough to talk to her." @Mobius

It was so easy to talk about things with Cinnia, though he noticed that her smile shrank as he continued talking. He could guess that cause of that, too - Tiberius had given him something he treasured, but Cinnia was in the same place, the same position, doing the same things, as always. "I wish... I wish things were different, for you," he said. It had been eight years - more! - before anyone had asked him about his past, and done something like that. But Cinnia had been here longer without anything similar. "I would love to teach you - everyone should be able to ride." Back home, of course, everyone could and it was unheard of for someone to not ride. Anyone who couldn't ride took up space in the wagons, which were much slower and more cumbersome than the free-ranging men and women on horseback. Those who couldn't ride were the very young, the very old or the infirm, and Cinnia was none of those. "So... what have you been up to recently?" he asked, not wanting to rub her nose in his good fortune. @Atrice

"Do you want enough for a palla, or would you prefer to make a dress from it?" A dress would take more cloth, naturally, but she might prefer to wear it as a veil, over her hair and dress. He opened his tablet yet again to make a note of the colour she wanted. "I can see that stronger colours would suit you better," he added, and laughed. "Irreverent! I don't think I've ever been called that before. And I decided to teach him mostly because I was bored one evening, and you never know when you might need a slave who can read." He had Olipor, but Olipor was just one slave and getting on years at that - he was fairly sure that Ovinia could summon more than one literate slave to attend her should she feel the need to. "I'm sure my father could procure me an invitation to any party worth attending, though I doubt anyone apart from you would want to talk with me. After all, I'm really only very little removed from a common tradesman. Even if I can lament being the son of a notorious Praetor." Being the illegitimate son of a Praetor was far removed from being legitimate daughter of a Praetor, which had led to most of the awkwardness of their first conversation, where Teutus had tried to be gentle about things not working between them. She'd probably known that from the very start anyway and tried to be nice about it. Just another reason why he liked her and why they were completely unsuited for one another - he would never drag anyone of Ovinia Camilla's sensibilities into his mess of a family. @Sara

Aulus picked up a cup of wine and held it out. Felix' reaction was pretty much what he'd expected. "I think you need this," he said, with a smile. "You can figure out what to say later, just enjoy the moment." They could sort details out later; as he had said to Horatia, he had no intention whatsoever of turning Felix out into the street. The house was big enough, after all, they could find a room for him and he would have the freedom to come and go as much as anyone else in the family did. He would also have to find a replacement for Felix, but that would be something to discuss with the man himself (who would know the staff) and with Horatia. He indicated the slave tag Felix still had on. "You can take that off, at least." @Sara @Sarah @Chevi

"Well, for starters, I like you," Attis said with a grin. "I'm his body slave - yes, I know he told you that much. It just means I'm the cream of the shit, so to speak." Slaves being pretty much the very lowest form of life in Rome - there were some households where the pets came higher in the rankings than the slaves, or some of the slaves. "Don't go tale-telling, nobody likes that. If you've got a problem with someone and can't sort it out yourself, tell me. Dominus is pretty easy-going, all things considered - don't swear at him, though. He doesn't mind a joke but he won't stand outright insolence." Ask me how I know that, he added mentally. "Um. Pull your weight - don't try sliding out of chores you're set. Though, if you honestly can't do something, say so. We can work around your injuries, that's not a problem, if we know. If you don't say, we'll assume you can do it and don't want to and that's a whole different jar of garum." He poured himself a cup of lora and cupped his hands around it, more for something to do with his hands than because he wanted to drink something that was first cousins to vinegar. "Cassia... She's Dominus' only child. She's, what, ten or eleven now? She's mostly been brought up by Metella - that's her nurse, my, um..." He sighed. "It's complicated, Metella and me. Anyway. Cassia's been brought up by Metella and Livia Vicana - that's the master's mother. Oh! Don't let Ismene rile you - she's body slave to Mistress Livia." And a bitch, he added privately, though he wasn't about to say that to someone so new. @Mobius

"Everyone will end up using stirrups, it'll cause a stir," he said. "I don't understand why they don't use them - they know about us, and the Parthians." He caught sight of her face and shook his head, bemused at the blank look. "They don't even have a word for them, do they?" he said, realising he'd used the Sarmatian word. How to describe what stirrups were? "There are different forms, but they all do basically the same thing. There's a strap fastened to the saddle at one end with a loop or metal plate at the other end, for your foot. The best ones have an adjustable strap. It means that a rider can stand up in the saddle if they need to." He pulled his heel up onto the bench and clasped his hands around his knee. "I don't know how well you know Tiberius, but he's always curious, always wants to know things. So he asked me about where I come from, about my people, and almost as soon as I said about being nomads and horsemen, he took me to the stables. I thought he was just going to let me see the horses - I was more surprised than anyone when he said we were going for a ride." @Atrice