All change

[Sharpie]

July 77AD

 

It was a season of change - not in the weather, but in the household of one Titus Sulpicius Rufus, who had been appointed to a position in the east, in Judea. It meant upheaval in the household - his wife and children were going with him, and his secretary and body slave, and some others.

But not the majority of the household slaves - transporting all of them would be difficult and expensive and there were surely slave markets in Judea where he could outfit his new quarters, whatever they were. So the house in Rome was to be shut up, or left under the auspices of the master's father, or something. Slaves' gossip was not entirely accurate when it pertained to things, and what was pertinent was that the majority of the household slaves were to be disposed of. It didn't matter whether they had been in the house seven years or seven days, they were surplus to requirements.

Which was why, eight years after entering the house, Davus had left it for the last time and now found himself for sale for a sixth time. The warehouse was clean and tidy, the slaves provided with a good hard-wearing tunic (if they hadn't come with their own), and the guards not rough brutes as many slave-dealers would have used. It was a small enough thing to be grateful for in a world of swirling uncertainty about the future, and yet Davus was grateful for it, for the master's final kindness in choosing a dealer who wasn't a brute - of course he wanted to maximise his profits, but there were so many slave dealers in Rome.

He went where he was told, keeping his mouth shut and his head down, despite the frantic whirl of thoughts and prayers that he might find himself in a good place, with a good master.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

It was always a bit of a mixed bag, taking a job lot from a household that was reorganising, for whatever reason. According to his factor who'd found them, their dominus was taking up a post in Judea, and only taking some of the household with him. Not uncommon, and it was under such circumstances that Spurius often ended up with a batch of slaves that could be anything from nigh on useless to very valuable, but usually spread somewhere in between. It was up to him, as the experienced slave trader, to sort through them, judge their skills and worth, and put a price on them. He was good at it, and he took care that the right slaves went to the right owners; it was part of why his business was so successful. 

The slaves had been given a light meal of boiled grains, and those who needed it had been given a tunica each, along with the simple wool square that could be a cloak or a blanket. Slaves were much easier to handle when they were comfortable. Spurius was working his way through the new acquisitions, questioning them over their skills and previous duties, making notes on his wax tablet. Having finished with a middle aged woman who'd been a housekeeper, the next in the row was a youngish man with dark, curly hair, broad brows and full lips suggestive of some foreign parentage. Spurius saws a lot like that; he kept a pair himself. The twins had a Roman father and a Germanic mother. Or this young man might have several generations of mixed heritage. He might even know. 

"What did your dominus call you?" He asked, fixing his hazel gaze on the young fellow. Not 'what is your name'; slaves had whatever name they were given. Spurius wanted to know what name he'd last been given, more to see whether it needed to be changed. Some people called their slaves all sorts of fanciful things, which future owners then didn't care for. What worked best at sale was something simple and easy to pronounce; of the new owner wanted something different, that was their prerogative. 

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

Davus was observant, mostly from habit and self-interest - it was always a good idea to know what was going on around you and how it affected the master, after all. The man who was in charge here was tall for a Roman, with a horsey sort of face marked by frown lines across his brows. He used what appeared to be a shepherd's crook to support himself - the limp was noticeable - and Davus didn't like to think how else that stick might be used. Despite appearances, though, he didn't seem to be a brutal sort of man, nor to allow brutality from those who worked under him, unlike some Davus had witnessed in the slave markets of Greece.

They had been lined up and the dealer himself was making his way down the line, asking questions of each of them - which made sense, he supposed. He'd want to know their skills and everything, after all.

Eventually, he was standing in front of Davus, who did not have to look too far down in order not to meet his eyes, the citizen's chin being about level with Davus' eyes if he was looking straight ahead. He lowered his eyeline to the neck of the other's tunic anyway.

"What did your dominus call you?"

"Davus, sir," he said, and fell silent, uncertain of the man's temperament and unwilling to do anything to irritate or annoy him.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

"Davus." The trader echoed, and made a note on his tablet. It would do. The young man was taller than many Romans, though not so tall as Spurius himself. He looked fit and healthy and was handsome enough; he should sell quickly. The question really was to whom; and for how much. 

"Show me your teeth." Spurius commanded. Slaves with bad teeth could have difficulty eating in a few years, becoming a liability. "What duties did you perform for your dominus?" He asked, watching the young man carefully for any signs of sullenness or stubbornness. So far he hadn't seen any, and Davus's demeanour was appropriately quiet and subservient. That was good. Troublesome slaves were a problem wherever they ended up, and that tended to be in the harder, harsher roles. Like the mines. But an obedient young fellow could find himself in a good household with comparatively easy duties. Certainly this one seemed to have come from that kind of background. 

"Do you have any particular skills? Can you read or write?" He asked, continuing to get the fellow's measure. 

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

"Show me your teeth."

Slavery was a fact of life, the world would never function without them. It didn't stop things being uncomfortable for those who happened to be slaves. Being sold was a fact of life for slaves, and this was far from the first time Davus had been inspected by a dealer or a buyer. That didn't mean that he liked being treated like an animal. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth and tipped his head back so the other could get a proper look, not resisting should the dealer need to move his head.

It was a moment before the dealer asked him the next question, apparently satisfied. "What duties did you perform for your dominus?"

"I was a house-slave, sir," he said, resuming his original position and eye-line. "Um. General household chores, shopping and other errands, sweeping, tidying, serving at dinner." The usual kind of thing - a lot of the time he'd been the one following the Dacian woman, Zia, doing the things she'd been supposed to do and had merely half-assed.

"No, sir. I could learn, though. And I can speak Greek and some Egyptian." Half the empire could speak Greek, and he hadn't spoken Egyptian with any frequency since he was ten, though he tried to hold conversations with himself in it, quietly, while he was working. He didn't want to lose it completely - it was the only thing he had to remind him of his mother.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

The young man's teeth looked sound, and since he presented them well and easily Spurius had no need to grab his chin to see better. Well and good. A cooperative slave was an easy one to work with, and generally found things to be easier for themselves. He listened as the man described his duties; general house slave. Nothing special there. Couldn't read or write. But he apparently spoke Greek - not uncommon - and some Egyptian. 

The last caught Spurius's attention. He'd learned some Egyptian himself in his youth, since his father traded south across the waters, particularly to Iudaea, Arabia Petraea, and Aegyptus. "Are you from Egypt?" Spurius asked, in that tongue, though his accent was strong. He didn't have cause to use the language very often, though he did receive slaves from time to time from that region. The ones with very dark skin which were traded from the lands south of the Empire were often sought after as a novelty, and they were generally traded through Aegyptus. Coming from that sun-soaked land  would explain the youth's distinctive tan. 

And Davus thought he could learn to read and write? Spurius had of course heard that before. Some slaves even claimed skills they didn't have to improve their value in the hope of finding a kinder master, though this one apparently had the sense not to do that. On the other hand, if he could learn, he could be valuable, or even useful. "What about numbers? If I'm serving three plates of food, each with five figs on it, how many figs do I need?" He asked, watching the young man intently. Even if he wasn't practiced at mathematics, if he was halfway intelligent and had all his fingers and toes he should be able to work that one out. 

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

His mention of speaking Egyptian apparently caught the taller man's attention. His accent was very bad, but it was Davus' own mother tongue and he couldn't help lighting up a bit at hearing it, even with a very strong Latin accent. "I was born in Alexandria, sir," he said in the same language, keeping the explanation short both because of his position subject to the other and because he didn't want the other to not understand him.

Three plates with five figs each was the same as counting the fingers of one hand three times... "Fifteen, sir."

This was curious; the man wasn't just moving on, but had stopped to actually examine him, which was different from the last time he'd been in the hands of a slave dealer. He couldn't let himself hope, but there was a spark that he might go to a good place - his last master had been a senator and something in the military that Davus couldn't remember, and while he hadn't been all that high in the hierarchy of household slaves, it was something to be able to say your master was a senator.

He was aware of being watched, and with more intention than most people looked at slaves - though he guessed that a slave dealer would want his customers to be happy with their purchases, the same way any trader did. It was just there here, he was the commodity being sold.

He had nothing else to offer in this conversation - it wasn't his place to, anyway - and fell silent again, waiting to be addressed again or for any other decision the taller man might make.

 

@Sarah

[Sarah]

Spurius Antius Claudus

I was born in Alexandria, sir.

Ah, so the youth was Egyptian, and from the ease with which he spoke it, had learned that tongue in his childhood. Perhaps he'd even learned it first. Spurius would put money on him being the offspring of a local slave and her Roman owner then, unclaimed by his father. Such was common, and there were a lot of otherwise apparently good, Roman slaves with a slightly exotic cast to their features with the same kind of ancestry. The Empire was a melting pot of peoples after all. 

Davus didn't hesitate any longer than it took to count the relevant number of fingers, coming up with the right answer. Fifteen figs. "Very good." He could handle the concepts then, the rest was simply education and practice. Spurius favoured the youth with a long, thoughtful look; a look that weighed and measured. Finally he came to a decision. "I'm going to take you into my household, as a trial." The slave trader said at last. "The only slave I have who can read, write and figure grows old." He wouldn't put Linus out as some did, but he was all too aware that the man had begun to struggle. "He will teach you. If you can learn from him, you will stay." The implication being that if Davus did not prove adept at what he was being taught, he would be back on the sales block. 

@Sharpie

Edited February 11, 2023 by Sarah

[Sharpie]

Davus

 

Well... that was unexpected. Davus caught himself a fraction before he would have met the taller man's eyes.

"I'll do my best, sir."

The implication wasn't lost on him: Learn, or return here and be sold to someone else. He didn't know how hard or easy it would be to learn to read and write, but children managed to do it and he was familiar with the overall concept, at least.

He had no intention of coming back here (or to any other slave market) yet again, at least as far as it was in his own power to avoid it - and if not coming back here depended on being able to learn to read and write, he would do his very best to learn. He could only hope that he would be given a good chance to learn, but that was out of his control.

 

@Sarah

Edited May 20, 2023 by Sharpie

[Sarah]

Spurius Antius Claudus

Spurius believed in being clear and consistent in his expectations with slaves. Many cases of poor behaviour could be attributed to masters being either inconsistent, or unclear in their expectations in his experience, and so he generally made an effort to be neither. He had no need of another general-purpose slave, so he made that clear. Rather he needed one with a mind keen enough to learn secretarial skills. Neither of the twins had proven apt, but their matches strength was what he valued them for. If Davus could prove his ability to learn, he would have a home for life, or at least the long term.

"Very good. You can serve as my aid for the rest of the day, and return to the domus with me at close of business." He instructed clearly, making another note on the wax tablet he carried before passing it to Davus. "Here, hold this."

So passed the day. First there was the rest of the household slaves who had arrived with Davus, each of whom was subjected to the same kind of questions, none of whom Spurius seemed inclined to keep. Once he'd questioned each one he'd taken the tablet from Davus, make some more notes, then hand it back. It meant that he moved a little faster, since he held a large staff with hook like a shepherd's crook in his left hand, and leaned on it fairly obviously as he walked, but he was also getting a feel for how Davus responded to simple tasks, and boredom. Eventually his compatriots were sorted into the various pens. Some into a large group of young men, general work slaves; some into a slightly smaller pen of women, again those with no special skills. Those who were more valuable went in with a smaller group. All the pens were floored with a thick layer of clean straw and the one for the more valuable slaves contained enough cots that each could sleep above the straw. 

One young man from Davus's erstwhile household with no particular skills went into a pen of other fit-looking young men, and the whole group went out in the afternoon, together with two of Spurius's handlers. A work crew that he hired out by the half-day. Another woman was sold that very afternoon, as buyers came through the warehouse, and a couple of the older slaves went with a group out to the auction that was running that afternoon in the Emporium Magnum. Just like that, they were scattered to the winds. 

Eventually things wound down. The work crew came back in, the slaves were served bowls of gruel with some boiled vegetables and a little bit of meat in it, and the warehouse was closed up. With the big doors closed it was actually quite warm, and upper windows were opened to let the cool night air in to relieve the summer heat. Spurius secured his tablets in his office and led Davus outside. Waiting for them were two large fellows in the simple tunicas of slaves, basic but good quality sandles on their feet. They were a matched pair, muscular and tall, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. Between them was a very simple litter, light enough that it only took the two of them to carry it. Davus might have noticed them going about various duties about the warehouse like carrying in food deliveries. "This is Romulus and Remus." Spurius said to Davus as he approached the pair and settled himself into the litter. Some might claim he was aping his betters but with his leg, the litter was a matter of practicality for Spurius. "This is Davus. He will be joining our household." He added to the twins, who both looked over and nodded. 

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

Davus

Davus took the wax tablet held out to him and quietly stepped out of the line, keeping behind the man so that he wouldn't be in the way but would be close enough to hand the tablet back when it was wanted. He was used to accompanying his former mistress when she went shopping and this was very little different to that, overall - there was the same need for him to be attentive to what was needed and when.

It was a little awkward, perhaps, being the one to have been chosen out of all the others and seeing them go off to different places, whether that was for sale now or later or to one of the labouring gangs. They were all used to life as possessions, but of course it was never easy to face up to the reality of it, and he managed a much-needed encouraging smile more than once, silently, from behind his new master's shoulder. The warehouse here was clean and tidy, the slaves cared for, which was far far better than the average slave dealer bothered about. Hopefully a man who put so much effort into how he kept his wares would also have an exclusive clientèle - though that didn't necessarily mean much when it came to how his buyers treated their slaves.

Anyway, such was life, and the day wore on. The slaves were fed and bedded down, the sale records and other wax tablets secured and Davus follwed his new owner outside. There was a carrying chair there, with a matched pair of slaves by it - Davus had seen them throughout the day, fetching and carrying and doing other odd jobs, although it seemed their primary function was to act as bearers for the master's carrying chair. He had no idea where 'home' was now, but apparently it was further than the master cared (or would be able?) to walk, especially after a long day.

Romulus and Remus... well, that was different from Castor and Pollux, he supposed, nodding his own greeting in return. He wasn't quite sure how they would deal with the master's staff, but they obviously had some method of dealing with it. He likewise wasn't sure where the master  wanted him and settled for a position behind and to the right, where he would be out of the way but to hand.

 

@Sarah

Edited May 20, 2023 by Sharpie

[Sarah]

Spurius Antius Claudus

The cohort from the domus was assessed and dispersed. If Spurius recognised any awkwardness in Davus's new position as his erstwhile companions were sorted and sent to their various fates, he gave no sign of it, but neither did he make any comment or even acknowledge the young man's quiet gestures of sympathy and solidarity. Indeed, so long as the slaves in his care were well behaved, the man generally ignored quiet conversations and shuffling around, whether amongst the slaves in the larger, communal pens or even through the partitions between them. Certainly he didn't look for petty reasons for punishment.

There was one incident where a group of barbarian slaves from the provinces, all with one foot whitened with chalk, were being prepared for the auction outside, and one fellow took exception either to the preparations or the nature of his future. The fight was over almost as soon as it started, Spurius's slave handlers moving in quickly with clubs and superior numbers, whilst the trader himself hooked the slave around the neck with the crook at the top of his staff, controlling him surprisingly well. It didn't take long to subdue the man, and it was done with no particular enthusiasm or viciousness, only what was required to take the fight out of him. Once subdued, the trader regarded him for a moment with a sour expression, then ordered one of the handlers to fetch a pillei for him, the conical cap which marked the slave as being sold with no guarantees. The man would fetch a lower price and likely end up in a manual labour role on some estate if he was lucky, or in a mine if he was not. It would be a hard and short life. Then he was ushered out to the auction with the rest of his group, the handlers walking close by.

That sour expression was the most emotion that Spurius had shown all day, and it was no exception as the little group left the warehouse for the evening. Once Spurius was settled the twins set off at a brisk pace, his little hung between them, the obvious assumption being that Davus would follow. They wound their way through the city from the Emporium Magnum to the Subura Aventi Minoris, the home of the Domi of the middle class; modest equestrians and wealthy plebs. Spurius was clearly one of the latter, as the litter arrived at a door set between a wine bar and a jewellery seller on the street front. Inside, the short passage let to a modest atrium, elegantly tiled with a tesserae mosaic in black, grey and white geometric style, worked around the impluvium in the middle to catch the rainfall through the open roof.

Rising from his litter, Spurius led the way inside into the cool space beyond the shops, whilst the twins disappeared around the back with the litter. Inside two older servants were waiting, again in neat but plain tunicas, one a woman with a thick, grey braid which still showed the occasional black hair, the other a man with a stooped back and intelligent gaze. They both glanced quickly from Spurius to Davus as they entered, before focusing once more on their master.

"This is Davus. He will be joining our household." Spurius told them succinctly. "Davus, this is Linus and Corva." He indicated the couple. "Corva manages the household; if you have need of anything you ask her. Linus here is my secretary; he will be teaching you to read and write, and figure numbers."

@Sharpie

[Sharpie]

Davus

 

 

The day had been relatively calm - all slaves expected to be sold and it would be fruitless to fight it. That had been amply proven when a scuffle had broken out, effortlessly stopped by the warehouse slave handlers, and the master proved that he was just as handy with his staff as Davus had suspected he would be as he hooked the ringleader around the neck until he could be subdued properly. Davus wasn't surprised to note that each of the combatants had chalked feet, and rolled his eyes. Barbarians - of course they were too stupid to just submit to their fates. There was no point in fighting it. Better they learned that soon enough.

The twins moved briskly but the journey home was short enough. Davus tried to memorise the route, or as much of it as he could while keeping at a jog and avoiding the people around them. It would take a couple of times traversing it before Davus would be confident in making it alone. It made sense that his new master would live close to his place of work - he lived on the Aventine, in one of the smaller domi. Davus was vaguely familiar with this part of Rome because his old master had friends living in the Piscina Publica and he'd been sent with messages to one or the other on occasion.

The twins stopped outside a door located between a wine shop and a jewellery shop, and Davus briefly committed the location and each shop sign to memory as the master got to his feet. He passed him his staff and followed him inside the house where there were two older slaves waiting in the atrium - obviously Linus had been the master's pedagogus or similar, and Corva was his contubernalis. They looked as if they would be easy to get along with and Davus  gave them a smile and a nod.

It didn't seem as if the master had a body-slave, though. If the twins acted in the role of house slaves here, and Davus was going to learn to read and write, and figure - well, it remained to be seen.

 

@Sarah

Edited May 20, 2023 by Sharpie