"Take Esca with you."
With those words, his uncle completely marred Marcus' day. "Why should I do that?" Marcus asked, neglecting to even look at the slave gathering his things in preparation of leaving.
Marcus' uncle folded his arms across his chest. "You remember what happened last time, don't you?"
Marcus turned away. Of course he remembered. Marcus had left his cane behind while accompanying his uncle to the marketplace, and pushed his wounded leg to its limits, until it gave out. It would have been bad enough to just fall over, but Marcus had dragged a vendor's cart down with him, spilling his goods all over. The incident earned him his fair share of jeering looks, and a fee from the vendor for damaging his wares.
"Well?" His uncle prodded.
"… Yes," Marcus replied through grit teeth. He could already see there was no getting around it. Esca would be accompanying him to the market whether he liked it or not.
"Then you know why," Marcus' uncle continued. "Esca.
The slave turned to regard Marcus' uncle. He didn't seem offended by the conversation that had just gone on; in fact, he looked as if he hadn't even been listening.
"Go with Marcus to the marketplace. You'll most likely need to carry the produce back," Marcus' uncle explained.
Esca nodded and looked to Marcus, who haughtily grabbed his cane and shoved the front door open. "Hurry up," he barked over his shoulder.
Esca quickened his pace just a bit so as to catch up. Even with his head start, Marcus was slow with the cane, and Esca was at his side in seconds. A minute of silence passed before Esca decided to speak. "How is your leg?"
Marcus' frown deepened. "How does it look?" He spat.
Esca smirked to himself. It was one of his few pleasures in his new life to terrorize his master. Marcus made it easy enough, being so stubborn.
"It looks bad," Esca replied innocently. "Does it hurt?"
Marcus stopped walking and glared at Esca. "Yes, it hurts. Are we through with these idiotic questions yet?"
Esca glared back at the roman until he turned away, walking again.
"You should relax," The slave continued. "All that anger isn't good for you." Esca let out a long sigh. "But I suppose-"
Marcus had stopped walking again. His face was blank; the only part of him betraying any emotion at all was his hand, gripping the cane much tighter than seemed necessary.
"Marcus?" Esca prompted.
"Be quiet," the roman suddenly hissed. "Not another word."
Esca bit back a response. Something in Marcus' tone told the slave that he was serious this time. So he supposed he would give his foolish master a moment or two of reprieve.
Marcus rushed to his room upon returning home, not even bothering to help Esca set the groceries down, or greet his uncle. Once in the comfort of his own room, Marcus dropped his cane and dipped his hands into the bowl of water beside his bed. He traced his features with wet fingers, inhaling slowly as he did so.
What a miserable experience that excursion had been- and of course, it was all Esca's fault. Esca and that ridiculous, drawn out, whispery sigh that Marcus was positive was the same one to leave his lips when he heard him the night before.
So, of course, Marcus could think of nothing else for the duration of the trip. And with Esca right there, the entire time… Marcus let out a low breath of annoyance. If only there was some way to get rid of him. Marcus supposed he could sell Esca, but the thought was fleeting. This was a temporary problem. Once Marcus allowed that certain memory to fade, it would all be a moot point.