Taken for granted

[Sharpie]

If Tiberius was drawing parallels between his body slave and Ignis, Jason chose to ignore it, focussing on the horse in front of him.

"Do you think Ignis is afraid of us, or what we might do?" Tiberius asked, and Jason shook his head.

"No - but I think he might become so, or grow confused and frustrated if people apply the wrong methods for too long. He's high-spirited, and that can be a good thing, taught the right way." He stepped to the side enough to give Tiberius room to join him. Teach him...? That could make for an interesting month!

"Talk to him - he is a prince among horses as you are a prince among men. He is your brother, so. And let him get your scent. Horses listen and smell as well as look, after all."

It didn't even register that he had dropped the honorific domine.

Ignis snorted and Jason smiled. "Patience, my friend. This is Tiberius - you know him, surely? We will go for a ride soon, but you need to be patient just a little longer."

Whether or not they would go for that ride rested with Tiberius, but Jason could hope, and in the meantime the prince seemed to want to learn the things that Jason just knew. Well, that wasn't going to be easy, but they could make a start, at least.

 

@Sarah

Edited April 3, 2022 by Sharpie

[Sarah]

From Tiberius's point of view there was always something new to learn, and every aspect of life was a learning opportunity. He'd brought Jason to the stables to see if he was indeed skilled with horses - as well as because his slave might enjoy the experience. And whilst he was interested to learn about handling Ignis, he was more interested to learn about Jason.

Jason gave him room and Tiberius carefully held out his hand for Ignis to smell, as instructed, listening all the while to what his body slave was telling him. Ignis's high spirits could be a benefit or a trial, depending on how his training was approached. Tiberius had certainly seen him being a trial; he liked the idea of winning the admitedly beautiful horse over.

Talk to him - he is a prince among horses as you are a prince among men.

Was that it? The Sarmatians saw their horses more as their kin than their... slaves. Yep, the parallels were certainly coming thick and fast. What Tiberius heard was that a certain amount of respect was required, for it to be mutual. Well, how would he treat with a prince of another land? No land was as great or glorious as the Roman Empire, but he was trained in politics.

"A prince hmm? Is that what you are?" He asked quietly, as Ignis sniffed at his fingers. "Well then. Perhaps we shall have to have some negotiations between us, and find oa path we can walk together." The best arrangements were those which were mutually beneficial. "And Jason here shall be my interpreter."

If Jason had dropped the usual honorific, Tiberius was too focused on the horse and the lesson to notice. Jason was doing what he had asked, and that was what mattered. Besides, Ignis's snort and shift of his weight was enough of a distraction.

"I think his highness is keen to go out." He observed. "Shall we?"

It was hard to say whether the final question was directed to Jason or to the horse.

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

Jason smiled at the suggestion. He didn't have much reason to smile a lot these days - more reasons recently, since finding his cousin alive and in Rome - but the prospect of being able to sit on a horse again, even for a short time, was a heady one.

And of course the Romans didn't equip their horses with stirrups, and Ignis (and the other horse) were both much taller animals than the sturdy horses of the steppe that Jason was used to, which necessitated the use of a mounting block or other aid - Jason wouldn't be at all surprised to find a slave or soldier pressed into service as a mounting block when out in the open country somewhere. He wondered if he could try to introduce the far more civilised method of stirrups - which allowed for greater security when in the saddle, too.

Anyway. They were here, in the Imperial stable yard, with mounting blocks and without stirrups, and Ignis was now a few yards from the block he'd originally been positioned beside.

"I wonder if you would object to another lesson, my friend," he said to the horse, reaching for another of the apple slices, and pressing his open hand to the horse's chest. "Back."

Ignis seemed to give him a puzzled look before retreating from the gentle pressure against his chest. Jason presented the apple slice.

"Do you still mean for me to ride him, Domine?" he asked, taking another slice to repeat this lesson a second time.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

Tiberius watched with interest as Jason's hand on the impatient horse's chest caused Ignis to step backwards. His slave had done similar a few times in the last few minutes; putting pressure on the horse to get him to move in the opposite direction, and Ignis seemed content to oblige. Interesting. No forcing, no dragging him around by the reins, just gentle pressure, to which Ignis seemed naturally inclined to respond.

He pondered what pressures people might be naturally inclined to respond to.

But right here and now he was learning about horses.

"I do, if you have no reason not to." Tiberius replied. If Jason really didn't want to he wouldn't force him, but he had his reasons. "I suspect you can teach me as much from his back as on the ground." And if that meant that Tiberius could have an easier time riding the horse, working with him instead of against him, then so much the better.

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

It would be the only chance, probably, that Jason would ever have to ride Ignis, or any horse of his quality. He'd be an idiot to turn that offer down, and he really had no reason to; Ignis was high-spirited, yes, but he was not ill-tempered or anything of that sort. He seemed very willing, once he understood what Jason wanted him to do - he would turn out to be a very fine mount indeed once he had proper training.

"I have no reason at all not to, Domine," he said. "He's very willing to do what is asked of him, once he knows what that is."

He demonstrated that willingness by backing him up another step or two, positioning him by the mounting block again. Stupid Roman 'training' that was merely threats and whips would never get this beautiful creature to do anything other than fight.

He kept his hand on the animal's neck as he walked around to the mounting block (Romans! to limit themselves to having to use a block or someone's back to simply mount a horse!) Simply sitting on a horse felt as though he'd emerged from a vast river back into air again, though just having his legs hanging without being able to put his feet into stirrups was all wrong. He did not pick the reins up right away, but kept his hand in contact with the horse's neck.

He was absolutely going to have to teach these ignorant Romans about stirrups and the advantages and security they gave even indifferent riders (and he would be willing to bet that all Romans were indifferent riders however much they protested that they weren't. They weren't Sarmatian, after all.)

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

I have no reason at all not to, Domine.

"Well, go on then." Said Tiberius, nodding in Ignis's direction. He could see how easily Jason handled Ignis on the ground, where others including himself had trouble. He wanted to see how his body slave fared in the saddle. If it was as well as he suspected, the young Imperial might well have found his new riding instructor. And to be able to ride like the horse people were said to would be a find thing indeed. And all because he decided not to ignore the man's background. How many other useful skills and talents were out there, wasting away in menial servitude?

Tiberius would ride the bay, whom he knew to be a calm animal, but he wanted to see Jason up onto Ignis first. Just because the bay was quiet, didn't mean that his learnings couldn't be applied there for a better relationship with the horse.

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

He settled himself in the unfamiliar saddle, legs dangling in an equally unfamiliar way - he wondered what Tiberius would make of stirrups and decided it would be worth it to find out, one day. The stable master and other stablehands would probably think it beyond barbarian, but they hadn't managed to persuade Ignis to do anything worthwhile and so their opinion barely mattered.

He kept his hands on Ignis' neck, allowing him to feel the contact, ignoring the reins for now. Reins were mostly for the rider to feel secure, and Jason had been an archer with his own people; nobody could draw a bow and hold the reins at the same time. He was as secure in the saddle as any Sarmatian, despite the lack of stirrups.

He clicked his tongue.

"Walk on, Ignis, my friend," he said, giving a gentle squeeze of the knees and releasing it as soon as he felt the horse move under him. He would follow Tiberius - it would be expected that the prince's body slave would be behind him, for one thing and for another, it would do Ignis the world of good to be behind a quieter, calmer horse.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

Remembering what Jason had shown him with Ignis, Tiberius took the time to introduce himself to the bay gelding, who sniffed his hand and lipped his fingers in case there was a piece of apple for him too, though the prince hadn't thought to get one. Instead he stroked the long nose and neck and spoke quietly to him for a moment, watching the dark ears flick back and forth. He watched Jason mount up with ease, sitting on Ignis's back like he'd known the horse all his life and not even bothering with the reins, before he swung his leg over the back of the bay. A look passed briefly across the stablemaster's face that suggested he thought this was the height of irregularity, but it disappeared just as quickly. One did not question the whim of the Imperials.

Once settled, the Prince thumped his heels against the bay's flanks as he'd been taught and pushed him out of the stableyard's gates at an even walk, into the large yard beyond, glancing over his shoulder to see that Jason and Ignis were following. He didn't tend to be impulsive, but for once he was glad that he had; it had opened a whole new world on his body slave. He walked the bay to the middle of the yard and halted him with the reins, waiting until Jason did the same.

"So, what shall we do?" He asked, looking in Jason's direction. "What would you like to do?" He wanted Jason to teach him, but there was time. He also wanted to see Jason ride.

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

Jason winced at the way his master kicked his heels against the sides of the bay he was mounted on, to get him to move. Just because he wasn't mounted on the horse Jason had been working with didn't mean that the same principles didn't apply. Though he allowed that perhaps the gentle squeeze and release of his knees had been too subtle for the prince to see as he had guided Ignis to fall in behind the bay gelding.

"I..." He had to swallow a lump in his throat; he wanted to give Ignis his head, let him run and feel the wind in his hair again as he had used to take for granted. "Is there anywhere to run, Domine? It would do Ignis good to have a good run, he's going, how do you say it? Stir crazy, just kept in the stable yard."

He felt an affinity with the big horse, as probably the Romans would never understand. To the Romans, horses were beasts of burden, unintelligent, tools as their slaves were tools, to be put to whatever use the Roman masters demanded. To Jason, horses were his kin, friends, to be asked to bear a rider willingly, to respond to a soft touch and a spoken word. He had absolutely no doubt that, given the right time and training, he could teach Ignis how to wait for a rider without needing to be held or tied or hobbled. Sarmatians had no fear that their mounts would wander off if left for a while, whereas the Romans would spend half a day trying to catch theirs unless they left them with someone holding the reins.

If he was allowed the time, he would have to see whether he could teach Ignis that; it would surely astonish Tiberius and his stable master.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

Some things were easy to learn by observation, others needed more traditional lessons. Tiberius had been taught to ride by his fellow Romans. But that was why he wanted Jason to teach him. If the Sarmatians were as good on horseback as they and history claimed - and he had no reason to think otherwise - then Jason could do a great deal to help him improve his riding. If he could help tame Ignis, so much the better.

Sitting astride, out in the yard, he put the question to Jason. Where should they go? What should they do? His body slave hesitated, then asked whether there was anywhere to run, to give the horse his head and feel the energy of him. Tiberius turned in his saddle to look at him, running his gaze over both Jason and the chestnut horse beneath him. Both seemed tense, full of pent up energy. There was a moment of thoughtful silence.

"So he wants to run?" Tiberius paraphrased. "And what about you?" He asked frankly, meeting Jason's gaze. Here was his slave, an excellent rider, seated on an excellent horse. The best place was probably down by the river, which was also close to the eastern city gates. It wouldn't be hard for Jason to outpace them to the gates on that horse, and make a bid for freedom. Of course, Tiberius would be extremely disappointed if he did so. It was a complex moment, on which a lot might hinge. How much freedom was too much, for a slave? How much could he give, before Jason might take it into his head to take, and run?

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

It took a moment before the implied meaning of Tiberius' question coalesced in Jason's mind. He had only meant somewhere for Ignis to run... for Tiberius to imply Jason might want to run away... It wasn't as though that thought hadn't occurred to him in the eight years and some months since the worst day of his life...

He closed his eyes, turning his face to the sky to attempt to control his emotions and gather his thoughts into some semblance of words in the horrible inadequacy of Latin. 

"That... was not what I meant," he managed, and swallowed hard. "I... I would give a great deal to see my mother again, but I could never look her in the face if I attempted something so... dishonourable. Not that you Romans believe anyone knows about honour except you."

He swallowed again and ran a hand along Ignis' neck to calm the horse; none of this was his fault, after all, and unconsciously turned the horse so that when he lifted his chin again he was looking in the direction of his own homeland, countless miles away.

"My father was a chief, among our people. I would not disgrace him - and you and I both know what happens to runaway slaves. Domine."

He probably didn't look much how Tiberius would imagine a Sarmatian chief's son to look; he had no visible jewellery other than the cheap bronze penannular brooch that pinned his cloak at the shoulder, and a single blue glass bead worn at the back of his head where it  joined the ends of two thin braids, the barest hint of his heritage.

And it wouldn't take Tiberius very long to think back over their whole interaction today and realise that he held a hostage to Jason's good behaviour in Jason's cousin. The chief of the White racing faction could hardly refuse to hand him over if he was demanded by an Imperial prince, and Jason would not let any further harm come to Azarion if he could help it.

 

@Sarah

Edited May 10, 2022 by Sharpie

[Sarah]

It was the first time Tiberius thought he'd ever seen Jason other than collected and subservient. It was an interesting experience, but it was also a warning. Tiberius had wondered at the wisdom of stripping slaves of their identity and links to their past, of disregarding their learning and skills, and as Jason spoke of honour and being the son of a chief, he understood why it was done. Connections to the past were connections to a time when they were entitled to pride and honour, which his bodyslave no longer was. The young Imperial observed this little display with outward dispassion but inwardly there was a certain amount of concern. It was a situation which needed to be handled with care.

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed, Jason." Came the mild rebuke, as Tiberius followed Jason's gaze. A chieftain's son would surely be expected to be able to think through situations and mediate, though he had no idea how young Jason was when he was taken. "Tradition holds that a slave has no heritage, not even a name, and I can see now why that is. In exploring yours, reminding you of it, I have only caused trouble for both of us." He shouldn't have brought Jason to the stables, he could see that now, but he had thought it would be a positive experience. Sometimes the only way to know was to try. 

Of course he knew what happened to runaway slaves, but it wasn't just not running for fear of death, what he hoped to achieve was slaves not really wanting to run. No doubt many would dream of freedom, but they all had dreams. It was one thing to dream it, and another to do it. It hadn't occurred to Tiberius that he now effectively held Jason's cousin hostage; yet. 

"Shall we take the horses back to the stables?" Tiberius watched Jason carefully. Usually he addressed his slave with instructions and orders, but here he was still trying to get the measure of Jason, to see how much could be given, and how much had to be withheld. "Or shall we take them down to the river for a run?" Are you going to behave yourself respectfully, or do I need to keep you away from the horses?

@Sharpie

Edited May 16, 2022 by Sarah

[Sharpie]

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed, Jason."

As rebukes went, it was a mild one, but it still stung, and it was a moment before he could trust himself to speak in a neutral tone - anything else would just inflame the situation and it did not need that.

"Maybe, Domine." He flicked hazel green eyes to his master's face briefly before looking back down to pull fondly at the horse's ears. "But would you have believed a simple 'no'?"

They had come close to understanding one another, or beginning to, or something, and he felt as if he'd stepped from firm ground into a pit he was unaware was there. Fuck their traditions and laws; traditions and laws didn't erase a man's memories when he was made a captive and a slave, after all.

He had never been troublesome, had never caused trouble, had never done anything to make Tiberius think that he ever would, so why did he think so, just from one simple conversation and one brief explanation? Hadn't he just said he wouldn't, in fact?!

It hurt, deeply, that realisation that Tiberius would never think of him as anything more than a dumb animal, a beast of burden to follow orders. He could almost feel the cold steel close around his neck as it had eight years and a half ago in the wild Sarmatian grass.

He lifted a carefully blank face to his master, his eyes no higher than the cloak around his shoulders. "Let them have their run, Domine, they will be better for it."

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

Maybe, Domine. But would you have believed a simple 'no'?

Jason pulled gently at the horse's ears, his gaze downcast.

"Yes." Tiberius said simply. "You've given me no reason not to believe your word." Which was true. Jason had never caused trouble, never lied that Tiberius had found out, always been obedient. And Tiberius had never questioned him, never needed to. But seeing him on the back of a horse, knowing how he could ride, had given the young Imperial sudden pause. After all, it was what he would have done, if their roles were reversed. Been the perfect slave until the opportunity had arrived, then run when he was certain they couldn't catch him. It was a simple enough step to project that onto Jason.

The disappointment settled in him, but it wasn't directed at Jason. Tiberius had felt that they were making some revolutionary steps, exploring the idea that slaves could have more autonomy, more identity, and still maintain their roles. But Jason's reaction  to his question suggested that giving an inch could lead to the taking of a mile. Still, one set back didn't mean that the whole concept was flawed. As with any relationship, sometimes things needed renegotiating, and he had started it.

"We'll go down to the river then." He said, allowing a slight smile. "We'll have a run with them." He turned in his saddle and pointed to two Palatine Guards. "You two, mount up and follow us."  It wouldn't take them long but Tiberius was disinclined to wait. He turned the bay's head in the direction of the gate and kicked him into motion.

As the two rode at a walk through the streets towards the river, Tiberius was deep in thought. He wanted to understand Jason, wanted to work out what restrictions could be eased, and which were necessary, and which might even be required to be tightened, to ensure a more secure and more content slave population. How could he make it easier on them - easier on Jason - without inviting behaviour that was likely to cause trouble.

He'd noticed the appearance of the tiny braids, noticed the bead, and said nothing. Some owners would permit a slave no personal expression, others allowed much for a valuable slave, but it was all at the discretion of their dominus. That might seem well, tailoring each to the slave, but not every owner was fair, equitable and mild of temper. What he wanted, if such were even possible, was to suggest changes in slave laws which would rein in the hands of poor owners and permit acceptable freedoms to good slaves. But whether improvements were possible, he didn't yet know. And poor Jason was bearing the brunt of his experiment.

Eventually he began to speak again, loud enough for Jason to hear him. "You said that your father is a chief of your people. How did you come to be a slave?" Usually the Romans only enslaved leaders of people they conquered by force, and to the best of his knowledge there had been no Sarmatian tribes conquered in his lifetime.

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

It was an easy quiet ride through the streets of Rome. The Praetorians would, no doubt, not catch them up before they reached their destination - they had to tack up, after all, and they would be following the same path at the same speed. Ignis was quieter under him, no doubt cheered by the actual exercise rather than just the few steps in the courtyard.

He had expected that his master would abandon conversation with him, especially after it had taken such a disastrous turn. He would have believed a simple unadorned 'no' from Jason... but would he have been content with it? He was too aware of his master's curiosity and propensity for studying and learning everything he could. With anyone else, he might have offered that simple 'no' - but then, nobody else would have brought him to the stables, watched him work with Ignis... Were he slave to anyone else at all, they would not be where they were right now.

And then his master broke the silence between them. "You said that your father is a chief of your people. How did you come to be a slave?"

Right there was the proof that he would not have been content with a simple 'no' earlier.

Maybe the question offered a truce as Tiberius' admonition earlier had not. If only Jason could phrase things in a way that wouldn't inflame things between them again - and he had to do it in a language that he might have spoken for eight years but that was not his mother tongue. Tabiti, help me speak with this chief!!

"There is a river that is the border between your people and mine, Domine," he said quietly, feeling his way in the dark and anxious not to awaken the sleeping giant. "There had been raids, on both sides, and your people demanded hostages against crossing the river from our side to yours. I was a chief's son, it was almost a given I would be one. And two years later, another tribe crossed after a harsh winter, driven west. The retaliation was... simple, really. For the Romans. They took us down to the river, crucified the older men and sold the rest of us to a slave trader."

He could still hear the screams and cries and smell the blood. There was no need to mention what they'd done to Azarion or to him, especially after the earlier rebuke.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

It was true that Tiberius struggled to abandon the line of thought he'd been pursuing, picking at it again like a scab, convinced that there had to be some middle ground somewhere, unaware that Jason was already well aware of this nature. After several moments of tense quiet as they began walking their horses down to the river, Tiberius asked how Jason had come to be a slave. He wanted to know more about him, but didn't want to encourage him to think that he should not be, for that way lay social unrest.

Jason answered cautiously, as though he was as wary of sparking another confrontation as Tiberius was, and the young Imperial listened, trying to match what Jason told him to his knowledge of history. Certainly it sounded believable; enforcing a border treaty with hostages was standard practice. They'd be indoctrinated into Roman culture and often eventually allowed to return to their own people to spread understanding. But if the treaty was violated, they would be punished, harshly. And from the sound of things they were. Tiberius wondered whether those on the border had known - or cared - that those who crossed the border were from a different tribe to those they held? Probably neither.

He wondered how much those on the border knew about Sarmatian culture. Certainly Tiberius himself realised he knew very little. Turning in his saddle, the young Imperial regarded his body slave for a long moment, sitting in the saddle of a 'prince of horses' with the ease of one born to it. "That must have felt very unfair, being punished for another tribe's transgressions." He said eventually. "Likely those who held you knew no difference." Nor cared to know. And that was perhaps the difference between the military and diplomatic approaches. Tiberius always favoured the latter.

@Sharpie

Edited May 25, 2022 by Sarah

[Sharpie]

"Life is rarely fair, Domine," Jason replied, a simple statement of fact. "You - I - people - can fret over the unfairness of life and never find pleasure in anything. Or they can try to make the most of it, even if where they are isn't where they would want to be. Different people choose differently, of course."

Jason wouldn't be where he was now, given a choice, but he was more than astute enough to know that even though he was a slave, he had it relatively easy. He had an easy-going master, and didn't spend his days in back-breaking labour on someone's farm or in the mines. He could easily have ended up in a place like that, after all.

He felt that Tiberius was trying to figure something out, had maybe come close to it - might have, had it not been for that misunderstanding earlier, in fact. He risked a glance up at Tiberius, trying to gauge whether he could offer something further, or whether he had strayed too close to that unspoken boundary earlier, intentionally or not.

"There is... something, that we teach our horses, back home," he offered, cautious in case he strayed too close and his master might misunderstand him again. "We can only do it when a horse really knows and trusts its rider. We teach them to stand, and to wait, without being tied or having someone hold the reins. And they always do."

He could teach Ignis, though it would take time and patience - the horse's temperament, right now, was not right for it, but he thought that he could learn it.

The question, right now, was whether Tiberius would understand the deeper meaning behind his words, whether he were still in the train of thought that equated horses and slaves.

 

@Sarah

Edited May 25, 2022 by Sharpie

[Sarah]

Tiberius was struck by Jason's wisdom. He was right of course, life was rarely fair, the young Imperial knew that all too well from his own childhood experiences. They did each have to make the most of what they had - which in his case was still rather a lot - or else grow bitter and find no joy in life. His body slave was a few years older than him, and had lived a life both similar and different, first as a chieftain's son, and then as a slave. He was always quiet and obedient, but today was Tiberius's first real glimpse into the other man's mind. Slaves were traditionally treated as furniture, save by those few who grew close to one or two of them, but if Seneca's writings held the truth that they seemed to, then even slaves should be accorded the basic rights of people. That wasn't the difficulty in Tiberius's mind, the difficulty was integrating that whilst still having them as slaves. For without slaves the Empire would not function.

There is... something, that we teach our horses, back home. We can only do it when a horse really knows and trusts its rider. We teach them to stand, and to wait, without being tied or having someone hold the reins. And they always do.

Jason offered this thought in his mild, seemingly innocuous way, and Tiberius listened. Training a horse, a horse that knew it's master well and trusted him, to stand and wait without restraint. In that moment he thought that perhaps he and Jason were on the same wavelength, that his bodyslave, with the insight needed by one born to rule, had followed his train of thought. He looked across at the other man frankly, seeing him in that moment not as his familiar slave, but as a scion of a proud lineage in his own right. It was difficult to reconcile the two, but in that moment the young Imperial felt there should be a way. 

"You're talking about loyalty." He said simply, watching Jason's expression. "If a horse knows and trusts it's master, then it is loyal and will follow and obey. Like a dog, save that dogs seem to be born loyal to men; I think horses are not." Horses were born wild and free, but Jason's people knew how to make them friends; family. "Nor are men." He added simply, as though that wasn't a huge jump of logic. 

They reached the river side and the young Imperial reined his bay gelding to a stop. Turning in his saddle, he gave Jason that same frank gaze. "Jason, I acknowledge that you were once the son of a chieftain. You have your own history and your own culture." The words were very formal, Tiberius felt that this was important. Then he went on to explain. "Life is rarely fair, as you say, but I think that it can be fairer." This was what he'd been turning over in his mind. "The Empire must have slaves, but the lot of a slave should not be any more miserable than absolutely necessary." Certainly there were Romans who seemed to think that a slave's life should be as miserable as possible, and Tiberius did not hold with that. "I think..." his gaze drifted to the horizon as he marshalled his thoughts and he sighed slightly, knowing the hard yards that lay ahead, "I think that there are changes that can be made to make things fairer, but I need to work further, before I can bring a legal proposal to the Senate." That would take time; maybe years. It might prove to be his great work. 

"But I think we can start here, with us."

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

Jason nearly sagged with relief. He had not been misunderstood a second time - and in many respects, the conversation now was of far greater import than merely suggesting they give the horses a run.

Something about Tiberius' voice made Jason look back up, unexpectedly meeting his eyes. The seriousness of his master's gaze caught his own and he could not look away. "Jason, I acknowledge that you were once the son of a chieftain. You have your own history and your own culture."

He unconsciously cupped his hand, accepting the words.

Well, apparently even Tiberius could acknowledge that laws and traditions couldn't erase the past.

"Thank you."

But he hadn't finished, and continued speaking. Jason had once seen a mosaic maker laying a floor, and this felt very much like that - finding the right pieces to put together to make the pattern.

"That is a noble task, Domine," he said, once they had come to a stand and silence fell between them again - not an uncomfortable awkward silence this time, but more an expectant one. "And a difficult one. Laws... laws cannot change a man's nature, whether that man is a master, or a slave. I could not teach Ignis to wait, as I have taught my own horse to. It is not in his nature now, perhaps it never will be. And there is nothing wrong with that. Laws are words, they can only guide actions, they cannot change what has been, or change what is in a man's heart to do."

He pulled fondly at Ignis' ears again. "If you can find a way to do it, it would make the world a better place, Domine. I just... I don't know if it's possible." He looked back up, meeting Tiberius' steady gaze. "That doesn't mean that it's not worth trying."

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

As those solemn words of acknowledgement hung between them, and the two young men's gazes met, Tiberius felt that he and Jason might have reached some sort of understanding. Life wasn't fair, but it could be fairer, and they could work together. His body slave's quiet words of gratitude seemed to confirm that in Tiberius's mind. He wasn't certain how yet, but he felt there had to be a way. He tried to explain to Jason what he was thinking, what he wanted to do, and the other man neither scoffed nor demanded immediate action; rather he seemed to think it through carefully. Perhaps the two of them had more in common in their natures than Tiberius had previously realised. 

What can change the nature of a man? Jason spoke of the difficulty of creating such change, with the voice of one raised to know man's nature, but he didn't dismiss the idea of Tiberius's goal, rather lauded it. The young prince knew that such good relations with slaves were not in every man's nature, and that men could be vastly different creatures; just look at the contrast between himself, quiet and bookish, and his brother-in-law Marcus, raised alongside him but far more interested in parties and socialising. Possibly also happier and more carefree. 

I don't know if it's possible. That doesn't mean that it's not worth trying.

"We only only find out if we try." Tiberius replied with a smile. "Laws exist to curb men's baser natures, and to make the world a little fairer." Having served as a decemviri stlitibus judicandis had only whet Tiberius's appetite for understanding. "They're not perfect, but they're our first tool. There may be others." The thought formed as he spoke it; laws were a blunt but effective instrument, but there were more subtle ways. "Cultural change is harder and takes longer, but it does happen." Perhaps people could learn to think better of slaves, especially if certain acts against them became punishable. "We shall have to see." That was all that he could say for now. 

"I'll arrange for you to have access to the stables. Whenever you have free time, you can take Ignis out - or any of the other horses." He told Jason matter of factly. "I trust you." He added, perhaps unnecessarily. "I would like you to work with Ignis, and also to teach me to understand horses better." He would love to be able to ride like Jason could. "And if you like I can teach you something, or arrange a tutor. Would you like to learn to read?" That could open the whole world of the written word to Jason. 

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

Change had to start somewhere - this was not a change that Jason had ever considered could even be possible. If it could be done, it would make life better for people like his cousin... He reconsidered that; his cousin had it about as good as anyone. Azarion seemed to have a good master, from what Jason had seen of him, and he was in his element with the Whites. They would indeed have to see.

Tiberius' next words made Jason blink, and then smile, that slow smile of his that seemed reluctant to come to his face but that transformed his whole expression. That was a gift to be treasured; he had found himself envying Azarion his closeness with the Whites' horses. To have that himself - to be able to ride Ignis if he chose to... He touched his neck where the tattooed falcon stooped. He would not be a free-flying falcon but one returning to the hand - but better that a hundred times than one pining away in a cage.

The sunlight seemed suddenly too bright and he had to blink to clear his vision.

Tiranes of eight years ago would have scorned books and what they might contain, but that was before he had met Tiberius, who seemed an enigma among Romans in preferring his books and scrolls - yet they had taught him things far beyond his years. Or perhaps merely brought out what had been latent in the boy Tiberius that Jason had never known.

"Thank you," he said again, the words heartfelt. "I would be honoured to teach you - and to learn to read, if you think I could."

He couldn't help glancing at Tiberius' dangling feet, and the smile returned, far more wry this time. "Do you Romans even know about stirrups, Domine?"

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

Jason looked, if anything, somewhat shocked, then a slow, slightly hesitant smile appeared. Tiberius hoped that he would not come to regret giving Jason access to the horses, but as with attempts to change attitudes towards slaves, there was only one way to find out. He didn't think he'd read the man wrong, and what greater gift to one raised to live alongside horses?

Jason's hand moved to the tattoo on his neck, a bird of prey stooping to catch something. It had been there as long as the prince had known him, probably pre-dated his enslavement for it wasn't the sort that Romans tended to put on slaves, but he'd never paid it much attention, until now. "Can I ask about your tattoo?" He said, framing his words with the respect of one who knew he didn't understand the other's culture. He could demand, of course, but he chose not to. He would be the change he wanted to see, and a tattoo could be very personal.

He'd given Jason what he thought his body slave would value most - time with the horses - and then he offered that which Tiberius himself valued most. The ability to read opened worlds, and for a slave it could open opportunities. "I don't see why not." Tiberius said, on the subject of Jason learning the skill. Yes he was older, but he was clearly no slouch intellectually. Once again, there was only one way to find out. But Tiberius wouldn't insist if his slave didn't seem to take to it. Rather he was pleased that Jason not only agreed to teach him to ride, but said he'd be honoured to. The chance to learn to ride and understand horses like Jason did was a great opportunity.

Then Jason asked something that made Tiberius frown slightly, not in displeasure, but in concentration as he searched his memory. "Stirrups are those foot-hook things, aren't they?" The ones the tribes of steppe nomads used. Jason's people. "Don't you get tangled in them?" With one's feet free you could wrap them firmly around the body of the horse at a run, and stick like a burr to it's back.

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[Sharpie]

Well, the conversation had turned completely around from the implied question of whether or not Jason would run away, and the complicated set of emotions that had stirred Tiberius earlier when Jason had said that running away would be dishonourable. He had meant what he'd said, and the whole conversation had become something Jason could never have anticipated. He somehow thought that Tiberius hadn't anticipated it, either.

"Can I ask about your tattoo?"

Not the invasive sort of question of earlier - Where did you go the other day? but Can I ask...?

"Yes," he said. It was two questions in one, really, and he continued. "Among my people, we celebrate certain acts and feats - a man's first kill, for instance." He indicated the inked wolf on his right arm, before moving his hand back to his neck. "This is because I recognised the members of a returning hunting party before anyone else did - when you live in a place where the horizon encircles you, keen eyesight is prized, after all."

"Stirrups are those foot-hook things, aren't they?"

"Yes," he replied, and couldn't help laughing. "No! No more than you get tangled up when you walk around wearing a toga, Domine! Probably less, even - there's a strap from the saddle, and a plate to rest your foot on. How do you think peoples like the Sarmatians and the Parthians can be such good archers when they ride? The stirrups help a rider to be more secure in the saddle with less effort - I'll show you, if you don't mind me giving the stable master fifty fits!"

Tiberius wanted to ride like a Sarmatian. Jason would do his level best, though he was coming to it properly years too late - but he could already sort of ride, which would only help. He would have to wear braccae, though; even the short trousers the soldiers wore would help with the chafing. And speaking of soldiers, here were the Praetorians, looking like sacks of flour or worse. He couldn't help wincing.

"Can we give the horses their run now, Domine?"

 

@Sarah

Edited July 19, 2022 by Sharpie

[Sarah]

Tattoos to celebrate acts and feats; Jason indicated the wolf on his arm; his first kill. It was an interesting thought. Of course people killed predators, and if they did not farm then they would have to hunt. Tiberius had never killed anything save the odd summer fly, at least not directly. The Imperials had people to do that for them. Jason was the son of a chieftain, but he had killed, hunted. It must, Tiberius thought, be a life with fewer layers to it; a much flatter social hierarchy. And much simpler, which could be both a blessing and a curse. No great libraries and always one step from hunger, but no destitute poor either. So he assumed. Perhaps one day he'd be able to go to the frontier. What would it be like, to see somewhere like the steppes, 'a place where the horizon encircles you'? A place where Jason's keen vision had been highly prized, hence the hawk. The young prince wondered suddenly how he might look to Sarmation eyes; probably quite unpreposessing. 

The stirrups help a rider to be more secure in the saddle with less effort.

It was an interesting thought. They still looked to Tiberius like they would complicate matters, but he wasn't the one born in a saddle. If Jason said that the stirrups were part of what made his people such great horseback fighters, then they were worth knowing about. "You have my permission to give the stable master as many fits as it takes." He replied with a grin. "I'd like to try them, though I suspect they'll always come more naturally to you than to me." He was under no illusions that he was coming too late to such learning, and with too little time to devote to it. But if he could even improve his riding and his relationship with horses somewhat, that would be valuable.

With a clatter the Praetorians arrived on their horses and Ignis danced impatiently, Jason asking if they could give the horses their run. It wasn't a conversation that Tiberius wanted to continue in front of others anyway. "Yes, lets." 

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[Sharpie]

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

Edited August 19, 2022 by Sharpie