Chapter 12

Later that day, Marcus sat in the shade on the verandah, sharpening a hunting knife. It was another hot day but the brilliant sunshine of mid-morning had given way to a more humid heat and clouds were gathering in the western sky. Beside him Uncle Aquila was playing draughts with his old friend, Claudius Hieronimianus. The older men were reminiscing about their days in the legion in Judea, and Marcus' attention had drifted off as they recalled people and events of which Marcus had no knowledge. He was thinking about the tribune Placidus and trying not to feel resentful towards his uncle's old friend who had, after all, brought Placidus into Marcus' life. Marcus was just wondering if it would be appropriate to reveal to Claudius that he had a grievance against his staff officer and had decided that it ought to be something he mentioned first to his uncle, when the old slave Stephanos made his shuffling appearance. Claudius had that moment finished an amusing tale and Aquila was laughing as he turned to his slave.

'What is it Stephanos?'

'Master, there are two officers at the gate. They are asking for the Legate.' Stephanos turned apologetically to Claudius. 'They say you are required immediately in Calleva, sir.'

'Oh surely not!' Aquila objected, 'Send them on their way.' Turning to Claudius he protested, 'I have been looking forward to his game of draughts all week, and I do not see nearly enough of you, old friend,' but Claudius was already rising from his seat and preparing to leave.

'I'm sorry, my old friend,' he said. 'If I can come back today, I will, and rest assured, the man responsible for interrupting our game will be on a charge and set to cleaning the latrines, but I have a feeling this won't be the case. Cassius Drusillus is a reliable man and I do not think he would call me away without good reason.' Stephanos started to usher the legate into the atrium but the latter stopped him with a gesture. 'No, don't worry, I will see myself out.' And with a salute towards Aquila and a nod to Marcus, he strode into the atrium towards the front door.

Stephanos was on the point of following him indoors, but Marcus stopped him.

'Stephanos, has Esca come home yet?' In truth, Marcus knew it was highly unlikely that Esca would come home and not make his presence immediately known to him, but, on the other hand, it was past noon and Marcus was growing impatient.

Stephanos looked at Marcus a little strangely before answering him. 'No sir.'

Marcus did not notice the strange look – he was too pre-occupied wondering why Esca was taking so long – but Aquila caught the glance and knew what it meant. Stephanos was nothing if not an incorrigible gossip, and, having woken to the unusual situation of finding Esca lying on the spare pallet in his room instead of in his usual sleeping place in Marcus' room, he had wasted no time in informing his master, Aquila. The old Roman decided, now that Claudius had been called away, it was time to talk to his nephew. Marcus was still engrossed in his thoughts and did not notice that Stephanos appeared to be waiting to see if there was anything else he wished to say to him.

Clearing his throat, Aquila said, 'Thank you, Stephanos, that will be all,' and Stephanos bowed and shuffled back into the house.

Aquila took a deep breath. He had promised himself he would not intervene in Marcus' relationship with Esca, but the boy was clearly distracted in a way that no master should be over a slave, and Aquila was wary that if he allowed this situation to continue, his nephew would become the subject of gossip amongst the slaves.

'Marcus?' he said, catching his nephew's attention. 'Is something troubling you?'

Marcus started and looked over at his uncle.

'I am only wondering where Esca is. I sent him into Calleva to get Vipsania's bridle mended earlier and I thought he would be back by now.' He looked back down at the knife he had been sharpening and thought back to an earlier time, in the spring, when Esca had been late returning from Calleva. That had been because of Placidus, he knew that now. He couldn't remember another time when Esca had kept him waiting longer than necessary, and an uneasy feeling stole over him.

'Marcus,' Aquila spoke cautiously and Marcus looked back up curious. 'Forgive me for intruding, but has something happened between you and Esca?' He was surprised by Marcus' reaction. The young man blushed a deep red and again dropped his gaze back down to the knife which he began to twist about in his hands. Marcus, the noble centurion, blushing? When he did not answer straight away, Aquila plunged on: 'I couldn't help but hear raised voices between you yesterday evening... I would not interfere between a man and his slave, but you have been quite preoccupied ever since, and now you are fretting like a bride on her wedding night, and Esca is nowhere to be seen...'

It was not the most tactful way he could have broached the subject, but Aquila was of the age when he did not feel tact was always the most productive approach. Nevertheless, he could see that his words stung Marcus deeply; the younger man got up abruptly and began to pace up and down. Aquila continued to appraise him, unashamed of his direct approach, until in the end Marcus admitted, unnecessarily:

'We did argue, yes. But we have spoken about it this morning, and … we have reached an understanding. I am only worried because I expected him back long before this.' They hadn't really reached an understanding, Marcus knew, but he was optimistic that they would one day. Esca had admitted he had misjudged Marcus, and Marcus felt he knew how to proceed in future so as to avoid further misunderstandings.

Aquila sighed. He had always told himself he would not offer advice unless he was asked for it but Marcus' talk of coming to an understanding - with his slave of all people! - led him to feel that he could not allow this to continue any longer. He stood up.

'I am sorry to say this, nephew, but maybe the time has come for me to speak.' Marcus stopped pacing and stood facing his uncle, suddenly very still as if on guard. Aquila told himself it was for Marcus' own good that he would speak the words he had been thinking for some time now. For Marcus' own good, and maybe for Esca's too. 'You allow that boy too much licence. Please -' he raised his hand to stop Marcus who was on the brink of interrupting him – 'allow me to finish what I want to say. I know you have found a kindred spirit in the Briton, and it pleases my heart beyond your imagining to see how well you have recovered from your injury and from the disappointment of being dismissed from the legion. I know that Esca has had a large part to play in that recovery. But he is your slave, and you should not forget that. Esca was not born to slavery and it must always be in his heart to return to his life of freedom. You owe it to him to be as consistent and as unwavering in your dominion over him as it is possible for you to be, so that he understands that his slavery is not an option and so that he grows to accept his position in life. He is here to serve you, and that is all. You do him no favours treating him as your equal. All you do is plant false hope in his heart.'

'False hope?' Marcus was dazed by this speech and needed time to marshal his thoughts.

'I'm afraid so,' Aquila confirmed. 'By treating him as your equal, you lead him to believe that he is your equal, and one day maybe, he will even expect to become your equal.'

'In truth,' Marcus replied, 'In many ways he is my equal. He was a warrior as I was, he is a man of honour equal to my own. Indeed, as a hunter, I think he may well be my superior, but I don't tell him I think so!' Marcus smiled, but Aquila did not smile back. Marcus' light-hearted response only made him frown.

'But Marcus, he can not be your equal. You surely must see that. You are a Roman, of a noble family. The name of Aquila has resounded through the legions and the villas of Rome for longer than anyone can remember. Esca is but a Briton.'

'He is the son of a Brigantes chieftain!' Marcus responded indignantly. 'From what he has told me, the name of his father, Cunoval, is every bit as commendable and worthy of distinction amongst his people as the name of Aquila is in Rome.' More so, perhaps, Marcus thought, since his own father had brought dishonour to the family name by losing the Eagle.

'Marcus!' Aquila chided him as though he were a tiresome small boy. 'You know it is not the same thing. He is a Briton, and all Britons are but the subjects of Rome. There is not a people who can withstand the might of Rome and any Roman is superior to other people simply through virtue of his birth.'

It was Marcus' turn to frown. He did not think it would be respectful to disagree with his uncle who clearly felt so strongly about this matter and argued his case so vehemently, but he could not let the opinion go unchallenged.

'Surely one does not have to be born a Roman to have merit?' He kept his tone respectful and his question general, as though he were a boy debating a point with his tutor.

'Indeed not,' agreed Aquila, 'I did not say Esca was without merit. But once a man's tribe is defeated and he becomes a slave, he can never hold his head as high as a freeborn Roman. Think how it will be when you return to Rome. Will the citizens there look upon Esca and see what you see? Will they see the son of a Brigantes chieftain, mighty in battle and skilful in the hunt? Or will they see a painted barbarian slave? You must consider this so that your return to Rome does not bring Esca unnecessary suffering.'

Marcus' eyes widened.

'I had not thought about my return to Rome,' he confessed. He had not thought about his future at all, he realised, not since Esca had come into his life. It was as if Esca was enough for him and all the turmoil he had felt at being discharged from the legion and losing his dream of fighting for Rome had melted in the warmth of Esca's presence. Rome seemed a long way away, not only in time and space, but also in lifestyle. Marcus looked out over the courtyard, lost in his thoughts. 'I cannot imagine Esca in Rome,' he said quietly, and then, noticing his uncle's gaze was still upon him, he straightened and looked him in the eye. 'But do not worry, Uncle, I have already thought about my relationship with Esca, and I will try to maintain a greater distance in future.'

Aquila noted Marcus' change in mood and nodded contently to himself, convinced that his words had had the desired effect on his nephew, who now saw how inappropriate it would be to return to Rome and continue to treat his slave as a friend.

'Come,' he said, laying a fatherly hand on Marcus' shoulder and leading him back to where they had been sitting. He indicated to a jug of wine that had been brought out for Claudius' refreshment when he had been here, and when Marcus nodded, Aquila poured some into a goblet for him and offered it to him before sitting down. Marcus followed suit and drank from the goblet thoughtfully.

'What did you argue about?' Aquila asked. If Marcus was open to criticism over his relationship with Esca, he would surely be willing to share the details of their argument, for although everyone in the household had heard raised voices, none had made out enough words to be certain of the source of contention. Aquila wouldn't admit it even to himself, but there was as much a lover of gossip in him as there was in his slave Stephanos, and he particularly enjoyed hearing about other people's disagreements. Now that he had been deprived of the opportunity to share stories with Claudius, he was looking for another source of entertainment.

Marcus sat considering for a moment. The nature of his argument with Esca was not something he wished to divulge. It embarrassed him even to think of discussing his rights to use his slave for personal satisfaction with Aquila. He realised this was only because the matter was close to his heart, but he was not capable of bluffing and appearing to be indifferent to it. On the other hand, discussing Placidus' interest in Esca was something he could manage without blushing, and it would allow him to ask his uncle how best to proceed against the tribune.

Briefly then, Marcus told Aquila about Placidus pursuit of Esca, making it plain that neither he nor Esca welcomed the advances. Aquila listened gravely, and by the end of Marcus' explanation, if he had been in the mood to quibble, he might have pointed out that his nephew had not actually replied to his question as to the nature of the dispute between himself and his slave, but he chose to ignore this point. He also forbore to point out that legally Marcus had very little grounds for complaint as Placidus had only propositioned Esca and had not actually damaged Marcus' property. He could see how upset his nephew was, and, although he had just been telling him not to treat his slave as an equal, he could see that now was not the time to ask him to overlook the slight he felt had been paid Esca.

'It would not be wise for you to confront the tribune,' he told Marcus, in an unconscious echo of what Esca had advised earlier. 'But if you wish it, I will speak to Claudius and he, as his commanding officer, might see fit to have a private word with him.'

This did not offer Marcus much satisfaction, but he could appreciate that his uncle was trying to help, so he told Aquila he would be grateful if the matter could be raised. It was at that point that both men heard a slight commotion coming from the front of the villa, and almost immediately, the scuffing of Stephanos' sandals could be heard advancing at an unusually hurried rate towards them. Marcus looked round expectantly, still hoping to see Esca following in Stephanos' wake, but the old man was alone.

'Sir!' he said, and he was looking at Marcus in great consternation. 'Your horse, Vipsania, she has just been found outside the gate...' He hesitated.

'And Esca?' Marcus demanded, already guessing the answer, and rising hastily to see for himself.

Stephanos glanced quickly at Aquila who was also rising, and then back at Marcus fearfully. 'No sir,' he replied. 'There is no sign of Esca. The stable boy who found the horse told me she was on the road alone.'

Marcus felt a cold certainty descend upon him. He had known there was something wrong. He couldn't have said why, but as the sun had progressed further and further across the sky, and Esca had failed to return, he had just known that something was amiss. Esca was too reliable to suddenly fail in his duty, and the arrival of the horse alone confirmed that events had conspired to prevent the faithful Briton from returning.

Whirling round to confront Aquila, Marcus exclaimed, 'Something must have happened to Esca!'

Aquila looked back at him strangely, and then turned to Stephanos and said, 'Is the mare unharmed?'

'Yes, Master. She seemed a little skittish, but the boy who found her calmed her down and has taken her to the stable.'

'That is good. Thank you Stephanos, that will be all.'

Aquila watched as the slave returned indoors, and then turned to Marcus who was fretting at his side.

'I am going to check on the mare,' Marcus told him. 'Will you come with me Uncle?'

Aquila nodded. 'As you wish,' he agreed, and they set off together towards the stables. As they walked, Aquila glanced cautiously at his nephew.

'Are you so sure that something must have happened to Esca?' he asked in a curiously guarded tone.

'Of course something has happened to him!' Marcus was surprised by this question. 'He would not lose control of Vipsania. She is hardly a difficult horse to control, and even if she were, Esca is more than capable of handling her.'

Aquila nodded quietly. He had not been questioning Esca's horsemanship.

'Maybe he deliberately turned the horse loose, to find her way home by herself,' he suggested.

Marcus stopped half way across the yard and stared at him in confusion.

'Why would he do that?'

Aquila took a deep breath and girded himself mentally to say what was on his mind.

'You did not tell me what you and Esca were arguing about last night. Oh you told me that Esca has been receiving the unwanted attentions of Tribune Placidus, and you made it clear you both abhorred his attentions, and you told me that you had resolved your differences. But you did not tell me what those differences were.' Marcus made to speak, but Aquila held up his hand. 'Do not worry, I am not asking you to tell me now. It is between you and Esca. But it led me to wonder: in your heart, do you really believe that Esca holds no grudge against you?'

Marcus gestured impatiently.

'What are you trying to say to me, Uncle?'

'I am wondering if Esca has not decided he has had enough of slavery. Enough of being propositioned by a man more powerful than his own master, who consequently is not in the position to do anything about it. Maybe he has even had enough of his master? I am wondering if he has run away.'

'Nonsense,' Marcus replied dismissively. He turned back towards the stable. 'Esca would not leave me, no matter what the circumstances. He gave me his word of honour that he would serve me faithfully. He would never break that word.'

He had left his uncle behind a little, such was his haste to get to the stable, and so he did not see Aquila's shrug of the shoulders that greeted this announcement. The old man knew the faith Marcus had in his slave, but equally, he had been alive for a long time and so he also knew that a slave was always going to say whatever he thought would best please his master's ears.

However, when the two men reached the stable, and examined Vipsania, Aquila could not deny that the bridle she wore clearly showed signs of having been recently repaired. A new leather strip replaced the one that Marcus had known was frayed.

'If Esca was intending to run away, he would not have first attended to the task I set him,' Marcus reasoned, and Aquila could not argue against him. 'It would make more sense, if he was determined to get away, to use the horse as his means of escape. But anyway, even if Vipsania had not returned, and even if I had not seen with my own eyes the evidence that Esca had done what I asked him to do, I know, Uncle, that Esca would not run away. Some accident has befallen him, I am sure of it. I must ride into Calleva and see if I can find him.'

Aquila nodded. Secretly, he felt touched by his nephew's faith and determination. He had wanted Marcus to treat Esca with more circumspection as was fitting for a master with his slave, but he could not help but be moved by the devotion and trust that his nephew showed. As he watched Marcus mount the mare, and ride off down the road to Calleva, he added valour and honour to the list of attributes.