VOLUMEN IX
Vir sapit qui pauca loquitur.
Nearly half a year after Pater had lost his citizenship, I was awakened by Vercingetorix gently shaking me.
"Domina? Your father has ordered that you rise at once and prepare for a journey," he stated.
"I've always wanted to know how it feels to wake up in your arms."
I immediately felt ashamed of such brazen words, but before I could begin praying silently that I had not truly spoken aloud or that Vercingetorix had not heard me, he sat on my bed and pulled me into an embrace, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder.
"You don't have to do this," I remarked. "You don't have to pretend to feel affection for me just because I'm your master's daughter. I don't want to force anyone to…"
"Indeed I do feel forced." He brushed back a strand of my hair. "You're a cruel taskmaster, domina."
When his lips touched my forehead, I nearly shuddered.
"Are you cold?" Vercingetorix held me closer.
He was so close to me that I could feel his heartbeat. I was surprised at how calm it sounded. My own heart was racing faster than the finest chariots at the Circus Maximus, especially when Vercingetorix gently pressed his lips against my brow a second time.
"It must have been a sad day for the gods when you were born," he commented, gazing affectionately into my eyes as he cradled my face. "They lost the most beautiful stars in their zenith the first time you opened your eyes. Their loveliest gardens were lost when you first smiled. Surely it must be true, for I can see their stars outshine the sun itself whenever I gaze into your eyes, and the flower petals that form your mouth are…"
"Serve!" Pater shouted from the other room. "Have you awakened my daughter or not?!"
"It is my fault, Pater!" I answered. "I have detained him! I shall send him out at once to do your bidding!"
My father's impatient muttering caused me to shudder. I usually awakened to the sounds of breakfast being prepared. If I slept too long, one of the female slaves would awaken me. Pater must have hurriedly ordered the first slave he saw to rouse me from my slumber. He would never have trusted Vercingetorix to enter my room if he knew how we felt about each other. If he would give his own son a severe flogging, what would he do to a mere daughter, not to mention his slave, if he suspected any affection between the two?
"I should return to my work." Vercingetorix held my hand in his. "May your father continually order me to serve you, domina."
"I vow to Libertas that you shall go free someday!" I promised him. "I swear it on my own life."
He put a finger to his lips to silence me. "Don't put yourself at risk for my sake, domina. I could not bear it if your father unleashed his fury on you."
Although I could have ordered the slaves to do it, I put on my own sandals. I was worried because Pater rarely left the villa, and when he did, he only took a few slaves. As I wondered why he had decided that his family should accompany him for this journey, I was grateful to have something to do with my hands other than wring them nervously. For this reason, I also arranged my own hair. I tried to concentrate on happier things, like the beauty of the mosaic mural on my wall.
"Good morning," Pater greeted cheerfully as I entered the atrium.
Now I was more anxious than ever. Pater's wrath was dreadful, but it was to be expected. Any pleasant words from him were highly unusual, let alone benevolent actions.
"Publius!" Pater lightly slapped him on the shoulder when my brother came to stand beside us. "I believe the time has come for me to have a word with you."
"Concerning what, Pater?" my brother asked.
"You've been conducting yourself with dignity, and your discussions at the dinner table are showing signs of a strong intellect. Your chin has the very beginning of a beard. I can see you are no longer a boy." Pater smiled proudly. "You see, Publius, on this most special day, we must celebrate the anniversary of the day of your birth properly, for now you are a man."
Numerius extended his arm. "Congratulations, Publius!"
My brothers shook hands.
On the day Tiberius had become an official Roman citizen rather than a mere child, he had been proud of himself, barely able to contain his excitement. He had nearly exasperated Pater with his questions about which man our father had chosen for him to serve for a year in order to train under one of prominence, as is the custom of all boys when they become men. When Numerius had received his first toga, he had worn it for several days, even sleeping in it.
However, Publius was silent. He smiled politely because he knew Pater was honoring him, and he was truly happy to become an official Roman citizen, but I could see that something troubled him. Why wasn't his smile an expression of elation that he was unable to contain?
The slaves helped my brother out of his childhood garment and removed the amulet he had worn since infancy. After he had dressed himself in the white tunic that they had given him, Publius placed a hand on his stomach, bringing the other to his forehead and gently massaging his brow.
"Are you ill?" Mater asked, touching my brother's head. "You don't seem to have a fever. What troubles you?"
"My stomach feels as if I have swallowed a stone," Publius answered.
"You are looking a bit pale. Why don't you sit down and rest a while? Your father and I will finish the ceremony."
My brother nodded and seated himself in a comfortable chair. Mater took his childhood items from the slaves and placed them before the lararium while Pater offered a sacrifice.
"We thank the gods that our son has lived to see this day," Mater prayed. "Thank you that he has been spared from the illnesses that claim the lives of so many children."
Pater frowned in disapproval, for he knew Mater was reminding him of what had happened to Paula, casting her accusations and blame. However, he held his peace.
"Bless him in this, the next phase of his life," continued Mater. "Let him ever live as a citizen beloved by society, known for his honesty when conducting business with others, and his just yet merciful attitude toward his future slaves. May he one day be blessed with a wife and children who will love him because each day, he proves his love for them."
Pater crossed his arms impatiently.
"Grant that he should never do anything to dishonor Rome or earn the disfavor of our most gracious emperor."
This remark was definitely an insult to Pater, and he was fully aware of it.
"Have you thought that perhaps Publius would like to say a few prayers for himself?" he asked. "After all, he's the one about to become a true citizen!"
Mater smiled at Publius. "Of course! He should definitely have the chance to pray!"
My brother began choking. Mater rushed over and tapped him on the back until he was able to regain his breath.
"Valesne?" she asked when he was finally able to breathe. "What happened?"
"I suppose I inhaled too sharply," Publius explained. "Being a Roman citizen is a tremendous honor, but it seems like a lot of responsibility. Might I have a few moments to pray alone?"
Mater nodded. "Take all the time you need. When you're ready, meet us in the orchard. We have a benna there."
Pater handed my brother a large, white bundle of wool that had been neatly folded. As we stepped outside, I noticed Publius mutely staring at the item in his hands, the toga of a grown man who was a true Roman citizen. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed that his head had dropped slightly as his lips formed inaudible words. No doubt he had already begun his prayers.
The orchard was beautiful in the hours just after dawn. I could see the slaves tending Pater's fields and vineyards, and the dogs were making their patrol around the barn. The horses stamped their feet, and the wagon driver that Pater had hired seemed eager for us to be underway, but he kept silent. Vercingetorix glanced my direction as often as he dared, but since my parents were present, his gaze never lingered for long. His fear of his masters was too great.
"Go see what's keeping your brother," Mater instructed me. "We have a long journey ahead of us, and I know your father wishes to leave as soon as possible."
I hurried to the room where we had left Publius. He was still holding the toga, but he was on his knees, beating his head against the wall.
"That's a rather unusual way to invoke the gods," I remarked.
He gasped, startled by my arrival.
"I…" Publius hesitated, unsure of how to respond. "I can honestly say I wasn't appealing to the gods. I was just…" He sighed. "Why do we humans tend to believe that hurting our heads will clear our minds?"
"Talk to me." I knelt beside him and took his hand. "Pater is in the orchard, and none of the slaves will be able to overhear you."
My brother glanced out the window to make sure no one else was approaching and that none of the slaves were within hearing distance.
"I'm frightened," he confessed. "I know what Pater intends to do. He wishes to take me to the forum and have my name added to the list of citizens, but then he'll want to offer a sacrifice at Liber's temple."
"Just as he did when Tiberius and Numerius became men."
Publius motioned for me to come closer, and he whispered so softly that I could barely hear him. I recoiled at what he had told me.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?!" I demanded. "Do you not realize…?!"
"I realize it all too well." He held up his hands to show me how badly they were trembling. "After what Pater did to Numerius…!" Publius lightly gripped my arm. "Please! I beg of you! Say nothing!"
A dark cloud of terror had come to rest over his face. He averted his eyes to the floor, quavering as a leaf in the wind. I silently prayed I would never accidentally give away his secret in word or deed. Why had he entrusted me with it?
Fearing for his safety, I drew Publius into an embrace. What chance did the two of us have, standing alone against the Roman Empire? The inevitable day would arrive when Pater discovered my brother's secret, and then what would become of us? Publius had no way of knowing how many prayers I would offer to the gods on his behalf.
"What are you going to do?"
My brother sighed. "I don't know. I can't refuse to go to Rome, but once we're there, I can't give anything as a sacrifice to Liber."
"If you don't, Pater will do worse to you than he ever did to any of his slaves!" I exclaimed.
Publius cringed. "I know, Iovita. This could get me killed."
"You may as well come to Rome," I responded. "If a Roman citizen is to be executed, he will be beheaded. If anyone else is condemned to die, the sentence will most likely be a far slower, agonizing death. Losing one's head seems nearly merciful compared to being crucified, burned alive, or mauled to death in the Circus Maximus."
Wincing as he rubbed his neck, Publius followed me to the orchard. Pater proudly adjusted my brother's new tunic and helped him put on the toga. Numerius was barely able to hide the concern in his eyes, for he sensed that something was wrong, but he would not endanger Publius by asking questions.
It is a wise man who speaks little.
