The Master's Wall

by Sandi Rog

  Filling her mind with Mpampas, she sang and danced for him.

  To her relief, Grandfather was entertained by her act, and to her near pleasure, he joined her in song. She smiled more easily now, and the tears dried on her cheeks. She was Triton, the powerful sea god. And she had won the first battle with her grandfather. He was taken in by her performance, but where she triumphed in victory and in spite, was that he sang one of Mpampas’s favorite songs. For the first time ever, she saw her grandfather as a fool.

  six

  David awoke with a start. Something rested on his chest. Was it a mouse? He opened his eyes and indeed something black sat on him. He leaped out of bed and it dropped to the floor.

  Titus, standing at the door with a torch, roared with laughter.

  David’s face went hot with embarrassment as his ribs throbbed painfully from the movement.

  “Pick it up,” Titus said.

  Now fully awake, David picked up the ball. The leather globe fit neatly in his palm.

  “You’re going to learn to juggle. Get dressed and meet me in the plaza.” Titus placed the torch in the bracket just outside the door and left.

  David glanced around the chamber. The torch outside gave just enough light for him to see that the three boys with whom he shared the quarters were already gone, probably working in the stables. Two of them were twins and all three of them were younger than David. Good thing they hadn’t witnessed his foolishness.

  He got into his tunic. How long had he been here at the villa now? A little more than a week? So far he hadn’t had any problems with Aloysius, whom everyone feared. David feared him too, but after observing him these last few days, he’d figured out how to please him. Only those who showed their fear made him angry. The only people he seemed fond of were his wife, Titus, and Alethea.

  Aloysius terrified Alethea, but at the same time, she was courageous. She faced her fear head on. At least she didn’t run off screaming anymore. He chuckled to himself. She reminded him so much of Sarah—his little Sarah.

  Regret choked him as he grabbed the ball and stepped out onto the balcony. A slight chill hung in the air, and to his left, the sun hid below the horizon. The darkness reminded him of how alone he was in the world. No Mamma or Abba, no family, no Sarah. He didn’t want to go into the plaza while darkness lingered. Instead of taking the stairs, he walked along the balcony to his left, which wound its way around the house, passing other slaves’ quarters. He could barely make out the dirt field to the east of the estate. The courtyard just below the balcony cast haunting shadows between the trimmed bushes and statues. The sun’s first beams of light peeked over the horizon, reminding him that Titus waited.

  As he went back toward the stairs, the view of the vineyards over the western wall made him stop. The green vines glowed under the early morning rays and the sky changed from purple, to silver, to gold. Shadowed workers made their way to the fields. An altar stood at the top of the hill. An altar to Mars, the Roman god of agriculture. It unnerved him to think he now belonged to people who worshiped strange gods. Just beyond the altar, the hill sloped toward the south to a small village where the vine keepers lived.

  It might be easy to escape this place. The wall stood about ten feet high. He could probably get over it if he ran fast enough. With enough momentum, he could climb up it. He wondered how smooth the stones were.

  Why had he given Titus his word to stay? The promise he made ate at him. Of course, he’d only given his word because he thought Sarah would be found. He’d been certain of it. Now who would find her?

  Since she wasn’t at the apartment, he held onto the hope that Manius had found her. Manius and Abba used to meet every morning to work on manuscripts. Surely, he had come again that morning and found her. David squeezed the ball. He shook his head in an attempt to shake away his frustration. He tossed the ball and caught it. Titus would be wondering what kept him.

  After he made his way down the stairs, he came around into the plaza. Its fluted columns and large beige tiles made him feel important. He served under a wealthy family. Most fascinating were the sea nymph statues at the entrance of the baths where he waited in boredom every morning for Cornelia. He sometimes imagined what it would be like to swim with the half-fish deities far away in the deep blue sea.

  On this side of the plaza, three large wooden stakes loomed over David. He’d heard stories about their use from other slaves. He imagined torturous lashes of the cat-o’-nine-tails, tearing away flesh from a slave’s back. He shivered, praying he would never have to feel the pain of a whip. Thoughts of escape enticed him. But he couldn’t go against his word. “Let a man’s yes be yes and his no be no.” His father’s voice echoed through his mind, beating like a drum since the day he gave his word. He fisted the ball in his hand until his knuckles turned white.

  Lucius, Alethea’s bully of a cousin, fondled one of the sea nymph statues, off in his own world and unaware that anyone watched.

  David stopped to see what he might do.

  Marcus bounded toward the bath’s entrance and caught his younger brother in a headlock.

  “Let go of me!” Lucius shouted.

  “Not until you say—”

  “No! Let . . . go . . . now!”

  David remained hidden behind one of the tall stakes, watching the two boys. Suppose they thought he was spying? He’d better come out of hiding.

  “I heard you hit Vibia.”

  Lucius incessantly pestered Vibia, their younger sister, as well as Alethea.

  “How do you like it, huh? Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? Say you won’t do it again.”

  Lucius didn’t answer, his face red as a radish and his teeth bared.

  “You know Father will do nothing if I tear you apart here and now, and I’ll do it.” He applied more pressure to the headlock. “Apologize now.”

  “Ow! Leave me. I won’t do it again.” By now Lucius whimpered and when Marcus released him, he stumbled away.

  “Damonus.” Marcus looked right at David.

  He realized Marcus spoke to him. It was difficult getting used to a new name.

  “Father says you can go fishing with us later. Would you like that?”

  Surprised by the invitation, David wondered if slaves were allowed to go fishing with their masters. He had been bored to death serving Cornelia, and to do something fun was just what he longed for.

  “Sure, I’d like that,” he said, fearing he sounded too eager.

  “Good.” Marcus nodded. “I’ll send for you when it’s time.” He then went into the house.

  What a surprise that someone from Aloysius’s family was friendly. David thought his only friends were to be his chamber-mates.

  “So you’re the one who broke my statue in the east courtyard.”

  David recognized the voice, and this person knew of his little crime. He held his breath and turned.

  Ace half smiled. “Don’t do it again.”

  “No, sir,” David said, exhaling in relief. Ace was the keeper of the gardens, but according to the stable boys, before he came to the villa he was a teacher. With brown hair combed neatly forward, he kept himself as well trimmed as the gardens. “Titus says you’re going to be my tutor.”

  “Yes. Titus and I’ve been breaking in the new field slaves. Things have finally slowed down, so when Cornelia is resting, meet me in the slaves’ dining chamber and we’ll begin your lessons.”

  “What about Marcus and Lucius? Will they come too?” David secretly hoped Marcus would be there.

  “No, they have their own lessons with Decimus. This will be informal training and our little secret.” Ace gave him a hard look.

  “What about the stable boys?” David hoped for company and friends.

  “No. You belong to Titus.” Ace put his hands behind his back, straightening in his white tunic, and looked David over. “Have you settled in?”

  David nodded. “Yes.” Really, nothing exciting had happened at all. He wished something wou
ld; anything was better than the slow boredom of each long day.

  “If you have any trouble, let me know.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ace’s concern surprised David. Since he spent most of his days following Cornelia around, he hadn’t had much opportunity to meet or get to know Ace.

  “Until later.” Ace gave him a friendly squeeze on the arm and turned to go.

  Titus appeared from around the corner and without warning, tossed him a ball.

  David caught it with his free hand.

  Titus tossed another just like it.

  David caught the ball against his chest between the first two.

  Titus came to him with a small net bag and tied it onto David’s belt. “Keep these with you wherever you go.”

  One by one, David dropped the balls into the bag, but Titus prevented the last one. “Toss it into the air like this.” He demonstrated by tossing the ball just above eye level and catching it in his hand.

  David took the ball and did the same.

  “Don’t throw it too high, and practice this first with one hand and then the other. When you’re not busy fanning Cornelia or running errands for her,” David sensed a bit of sarcasm in his voice, “I want you to practice catching the ball, just like you saw me do.”

  David tossed the ball several times with his right hand. Simple. Was this a joke?

  “Practice with your left hand; the right hand won’t be a problem for you.”

  David tossed the ball with his left hand. It felt awkward.

  “Practice with that hand all day. Also, learn to catch the ball this way.” Titus tossed the ball, but instead of just letting it fall into his hand, he snatched it out of the air.

  “Why do I have to do this?”

  “You’ll have to learn to juggle if you’re to be a fighter,” Titus said as he went up the steps. He walked off, and as he rounded the corner he called out, “All day, left hand only.”

  David shook his head and tossed the ball. He snatched it out of the air the way Titus had done. At least this was better than standing around all day with nothing to do. In fact, it might be fun to learn how to juggle. He recalled seeing men do similar tricks at the Forum, not to mention swallowing fire and all sorts of unusual spectacles.

  “Damonus, Cornelia is ready for you,” Fabia’s slave called out to him. She peered out from the hall that went by Aloysius’s office chamber.

  David stashed the ball in his net bag and went to help Cornelia carry her garments to the baths. He had never known such laziness, yet it was normal here at the villa. There was a slave for everything. Such a boring job, doing all these meaningless tasks for Cornelia. Strange to think she was Alethea’s mother.

  He caught a glimpse of the silly girl several times this last week. If she didn’t remind him of Sarah and have such a cute nose, he might have found her annoying.

  He walked through the atrium and arrived at Cornelia’s chamber door.

  “You’re late.”

  Late? David swallowed. How could he be late? Was he supposed to wait outside her door all morning? And wasn’t he actually Titus’s charge? Before he could say anything, she tossed her garments at him. Luckily, he didn’t let any fall. It would give her another reason to snap.

  “Don’t let it happen again.”

  “Yes, mistress.”

  She shot him an angry look.

  “I mean, no, mistress.” David could never say or do the right thing with Cornelia. He knew she despised him, and he could do nothing to please her. He was not equal to her station, and she was determined not to let him forget it. He had known people who treated their slaves like family, but none, save Titus, were treated that way here. After the invitation from Marcus to go fishing, David had an inclination that he also might be treated well. He hoped one day to be as important as Titus. Then maybe he’d gain his freedom.

  “Tonight, I expect you to wash my feet before the evening meal.”

  “He will do no such thing.”

  David turned to see Aloysius. He sucked in a breath and his feet became fixed to the tiles. His first personal encounter with the master since his arrival.

  “If you expect decent service from the slaves you will not belittle them.” Aloysius put his hands behind his back. “I’ve hardly seen you venture outdoors. Were you planning on walking in the dust?” His voice held a hint of sarcasm. “We already have someone to wash our feet, and you will not make him do it. This is Titus’s boy.” The last words were said as though he issued a command, all sarcasm vanished.

  David held his breath, relieved to know his status was above such demeaning and undesirable tasks. Would Cornelia lash out?

  “I didn’t realize you valued this one.” Eyes riveted to the floor, her face paled and her voice became quiet.

  A tinge of anger shot through David. She spoke as though he were a piece of furniture. Yet he had heard much worse insults, so he should be grateful. Still, he despised being a slave. One day, he would be free.

  Aloysius grunted and walked away.

  Cornelia turned up her nose and walked past David. He followed her in silence to the baths entrance where a female slave awaited them and took the garments.

  “Wait here until I’m finished.” Cornelia’s voice was still sharp, but it had lost its flair since Aloysius’s rebuke.

  David stood outside the door. This could take hours.

  He used his time to follow Titus’s instructions and tossed his ball, up and down, up and down. Grateful for the distraction, he stayed busy while he waited, and it kept his mind off more painful thoughts. The sea nymph’s comfort wasn’t as necessary, but eventually even tossing the ball became boring.

  He threw the ball against the wall. It fell straight to the ground. He picked it up and paddled it back and forth from hand to hand. When paddling it between his hands no longer interested him, he tried the same thing with his feet. That proved more challenging, but he still grew restless, thinking about fishing with Marcus and his lessons with Ace.

  He glanced above the atrium at the slaves’ chambers and recalled how the slant of the roof created an opening in the center of the atrium above the fountain. The opening was out of sight, but he mentally measured the distance between him and where it should be. He glanced around the plaza. No one was there. And no one would likely be near the atrium. He squeezed the leather ball in his fist, took a step back, and pointed his left arm and forefinger toward the target. He threw the ball high, arching it towards the roof’s opening.

  His ribs burned, but that didn’t matter. He dashed for the atrium. As he charged down the hall past Aloysius’s office chamber—luckily no one was there—he heard a splash and a woman yelp.

  In the atrium, a maidservant stood alone with hands on her chest and a wild look of fright on her face.

  He forced back a chuckle.

  “Something fell into the impluvium. I think it was a bird or an animal.” She pointed a quivering finger at the fountain.

  David jumped onto the edge of the pool, proud of his good aim. He wanted to shout victory, but the woman watched in stunned silence. He also had to make haste and get back to Cornelia. He jumped into the fountain, and water soaked his tunic as he fished out the ball.

  He glanced around again. So far, no one but the one servant had witnessed his game. Maybe he should throw the ball back through the roof? Maybe he could get it as far as the plaza? But what if it got stuck? And how would he explain that to Titus?

  Anxious to return to his post, he leaped out of the fountain, nodded to the maidservant, showing her the ball—not an animal or a bird. He hurried to leave, then skidded to a stop and turned to face her.

  “Don’t tell?”

  The woman smiled, hands on her hips, and shook her head. “Be gone. You’re dripping water all over the place, and I’m the one who has to clean it up.”

  He ran and slid over the tiles back to the plaza, nearly losing his balance. Thankfully, Cornelia was still in the baths. He glanced back at the roof with a sense of
pride and victory. Same time tomorrow he would do it again.

  The following day, Titus met David in the plaza again. This time he showed David how to juggle two balls in one hand.

  “When the first ball reaches its highest point, throw the second ball up behind it, like this.” Titus juggled the two balls in one hand with ease. He did the same in his other hand, then tossed the balls one by one to David.

  David threw the second ball up too high. The next time, he threw it out too far. Then it wasn’t high enough. Each time he tried to catch the second ball, he forgot to catch the first, or he would remember to catch the first and forget to catch the second.

  Titus laughed. “Not too high, Damonus. Relax your arm, just like I showed you yesterday. Learn to do this with each hand.” He smiled and turned to go. “Keep practicing.”

  David tossed one ball and then the other. He caught one, but the second time they both fell to the ground. As he picked them up, a giggle came from the porch near the stairs. He knew that giggle well.

  Alethea stood behind one of the large wooden stakes, watching him. Slowly, she stepped away and came toward him. As usual, she danced as she walked, wearing a long stola without a belt. Her hair hung in a thick braid where loose strands went wildly astray.

  “You need to comb your hair,” she said.

  “My hair? Obviously you haven’t looked in the mirror.”

  She turned her nose in the air. “Of course not! I’m waiting for Portia to take me to the baths.”

  David tried not to smile at her efforts to imitate her mother’s tone. She might be a little girl, but he got butterflies in his stomach whenever she came around. Maybe it was because she reminded him of Sarah? Maybe because she treated him more like a friend than a slave? Or maybe he felt close to her because they had so much in common? She was the only real friend he had right now. He’d enjoyed fishing with Marcus the day before, and his chamber-mates were friendly enough, but she was the only one he could be open with about his faith. He wondered if she had any friends she could trust. “I’ll get a comb for you.” She skipped into the baths and returned. “Sit down and let me do your hair.” A big smile broadened her face.