Rome in Flames (10 page)

– chapter xix –

Too costly

 

As soon as he heard me, Tiro reined in the horses. Luckily, the carriage was empty – Tiro must be taking the horses for exercise. He wouldn't have dared to stop if the master had been there.

He jumped down, hitched the horses to a tree and came running over.

‘Bryn! I've been looking for you for ages!' He hugged me. He didn't seem to care about my filthy state.

‘Oh, Tiro, it's great to see you!' I swallowed hard to stop my voice from shaking. ‘How did you find me?'

‘Pallas thought you were on a farm somewhere around here – he didn't know for sure. But whenever I exercised the horses, I drove out this way, hoping and praying I'd see you. Are you all right?'

‘I'm alive. Just about.'

He stood back and took a proper look at me – skinny, ragged and dirty, with whip marks on my back – and his eyes filled with pity.

‘Can you help me get out of here?' I whispered.

‘If I can, I will.'

For a moment, I imagined the entire chain gang clambering into the carriage and escaping down the road. But two of Publius's men were approaching fast.

‘What's going on here?' one of them demanded.

Tiro stepped forward. ‘I would like to buy this slave,' he said. ‘How much do you want for him?'

The two men looked at each other uncertainly. This had never happened before. No one ever wanted to buy slaves like us, the lowest of the low.

‘You'll have to talk to Publius, the overseer. He's up at the house – just follow that track there.'

Tiro thanked them and went off up the track, leaving the other slaves open-mouthed.

‘Who was that, then? Your long-lost father?' Afer jeered. ‘I must say, you don't look very like him.'

‘All right, the excitement's over,' we were told. ‘Now get back to work.'

It seemed ages before Tiro came back. When I saw his face, my heart sank. Was Publius refusing to sell me?

‘Oh, he'll sell you all right,' said Tiro. ‘But he wants eight hundred denarii.'

‘What, eight hundred? For a kid like that?' Afer said scornfully. ‘A grown man is only worth five hundred!'

‘Didn't you bargain with him?' I said, dismayed.

‘I tried, but he wouldn't go any lower. I shouldn't have let him see how much I wanted to buy you.' Tiro was looking downcast. ‘But don't worry, I'll find the money somehow, Bryn. I'll be back soon, I promise.'

I couldn't speak. Silently, I waved goodbye, and gazed after the carriage until it was just a speck in the distance.

Afer laughed. ‘And that's the last you'll see of him.'

‘No. He wouldn't lie to me,' I said. ‘Tiro never tells lies.'

But eight hundred denarii – that was a lot of money. Even if Tiro asked all his Christian friends to help, how could he ever find enough? I knew that Tiro would do his best to help me, but his best might not be enough.

Several days went by. My heart sank lower and lower.

‘What's happened to your African friend?' Afer mocked me. ‘He must have decided the price was too high. And he's right. You're not worth eight denarii, never mind eight hundred.'

‘Oh, leave the kid alone,' said Sergius.

‘Who says?'

‘I do. You've been picking on him ever since he got here. Give it a rest, can't you?'

Afer glared at him. ‘I'm the boss of this gang. No one tells
me
what to do.'

A fight broke out – an ugly, vicious fight between two men who were chained together and couldn't escape each other. They fell over, dragging me down with them. I tried to shield myself from their wild punches.

Publius's men watched the fight for a while, enjoying it. Then they stepped in with their whips. Sergius and Afer both got a savage beating. From then on, Afer hated me more than ever, as if it was all my fault.

I would have tried to keep out of his way, but that was impossible. It's frightening to spend your entire life, waking and sleeping, right next to someone who loathes you. Once again, I was having trouble getting to sleep – I was scared that Afer might kill me in the night.

My prayers now were angry ones: ‘Can't you hear me? You're supposed to love me like a father. What father would let his son be treated like this?'

But no answer came.

* * *

The burning heat of summer began to cool slightly. Grapes were ripening on the vines. Sergius warned me that we would have to work even harder than usual at harvest time. ‘Then, when the grapes and olives are harvested, we get a bit of a rest.'

Yes, and after that the whole thing would start all over again. Weeding . . . digging . . . watering . . . harvesting . . . on and on, year after year of it, until I became a worn-out, empty shell, like old Kaeso.

I thought I'd given up hoping. But whenever we were near the road, I couldn't stop myself looking out for Tiro. Every time a carriage came into sight, I watched eagerly until it was close enough to destroy my hopes yet again.

Then one evening, as we made our way wearily back from the fields, I stopped suddenly. I couldn't believe my eyes. There, outside the house, was the carriage with its four black horses.

The door of the house opened, and Tiro came out with Publius. I hardly dared to look at Tiro's face – but when I did, I saw he was smiling.

Publius called to one of his men, ‘Take Afer's gang to the blacksmith. Tell him to unshackle the boy there. He's been sold.'

The blacksmith worked in a shed near the stables. Using a hammer and chisel, he struck off the metal collar that had chafed my ankle for so long. I enjoyed the look of hatred and envy on Afer's face. But Sergius had been a friend to me – I was sorry I couldn't rescue him from the farm.

‘Goodbye,' I said to him. ‘I hope you get out of here one day.'

Then I hurried back to Tiro. I would have run and jumped for joy, but my legs weren't used to freedom yet. My right ankle still seemed to feel the weight of the chain.

Tiro said polite farewells to Publius. Then he helped me up to sit beside him on the driver's bench of the carriage. ‘Let's get out of this place,' he muttered, taking up the reins.

He took things slowly on the rutted track that led down to the main road. He didn't want to damage the wheels of the carriage. Before we were halfway down the hill, a great commotion broke out behind us – voices shouting, dogs barking. I craned my neck to look back, feeling suddenly frightened. They couldn't stop me now – could they?

‘Don't worry,' said Tiro. ‘You've been bought and paid for. You don't belong there any more.'

I grabbed Tiro's arm. ‘There's someone following us,' I whispered. ‘Look – over there.'

Tiro saw it too, a shadowy figure slipping between the rows of vines. He flicked the reins to make the horses speed up. But as they gathered pace, someone dashed out of the vineyard, grabbed onto the rear of the carriage and swung himself up.

I gasped. It was Sergius.

‘Don't stop,' he said breathlessly, crouching down on the floor. ‘Drive on – please.'

After one glance at him, Tiro obeyed. We swung onto the main road and headed towards Rome at a good, fast pace. Sergius began to laugh.

‘They won't catch me, even if they set a hundred dogs on my trail. Ha! I wish I could see Publius's face right now!'

‘What happened?' I demanded. ‘How did you escape?'

‘The guard got careless. He was talking to the blacksmith, instead of watching us. Afer got behind him and whacked him with a hammer. Kaeso took out the blacksmith – knocked him out cold. Easy as anything! We knew we hadn't much time, so we freed each other and then ran off in different directions. I don't suppose old Kaeso will get far, though.'

I hoped he was wrong. I even hoped that Afer would get away. No one, however mean, deserved the sort of life we had been forced to live.

‘Where do you want us to take you?' Tiro asked.

‘Just drop me off on the outskirts of Rome. Anywhere that's good and crowded.'

It was getting dark by the time we reached Rome. In a busy neighbourhood where many poor people lived, Sergius thanked us and said goodbye. Then he disappeared down a narrow side street. I don't know what happened to him – I never saw him again.

– chapter xx –

Choices

 

Tiro had arranged for me to stay with Crispus and Marcella. He dropped me off near their house.

‘I have to go,' he said. ‘I'll be in trouble if the master suddenly decides he needs the carriage.'

He drove off. I realized that he'd taken quite a risk for my sake. And I hadn't even thanked him properly. I wanted to run after him. But I couldn't follow him to Lucius's house. It would only cause more trouble – the master would want to know why Tiro was still friendly with a thief like me.

Never mind; I could talk to him the next time he came to visit Crispus and Marcella. I found my way to their house, where they gave me a warm welcome. After having a good meal, a wash and a change of clothes, I felt almost my old self again.

Apparently, I didn't look like my old self, though. ‘You're so thin,' said Marcella. ‘We must feed you up. And you've grown taller, and lost that pale northern look you used to have.' This was true. The baking heat of the vineyard had tanned my skin as brown as a Roman's.

‘Do you still plan on returning to Britain?' Crispus asked.

I nodded. I had talked about this with Tiro on the drive back to Rome. Officially, I was his slave, since he had paid for me. But Tiro had laughed at the idea. ‘What would I want a slave for? I bought you so as to set you free. And I know you've always wanted to go home.'

My heart leaped. At once, I started thinking about the journey, making plans.

But now, Marcella was trying to persuade me not to go – or at least, not yet. ‘Winter will soon be here, and no one travels in winter if they can help it. You should stay in Rome for a few months. Start your journey in the spring, when you're fit and well again.'

‘I want to catch up with my brother,' I said, although I knew it was unlikely. Conan had left months ago. Where would he be when winter came? Perhaps he would be stuck in the mountains somewhere, or stranded on this side of the sea crossing. Perhaps, if he was very lucky, he would manage to get home.

But what if he reached the place where our village used to be, only to find the Romans had destroyed it? No home, no family, nothing to live on and winter approaching . . . I shivered.

Maybe I should stay in Rome for the winter, as Marcella said. I would have to find work of some kind so that I could pay for my food. I couldn't live on her kindness all winter.

A few days later, Tiro called round. I thanked him for everything he'd done. Then I asked him a question that had been bothering me. ‘Tiro, where did you get the money to pay Publius? Was it from the Christians?'

‘Some of it was.'

‘Not all? What about the rest?'

He hesitated, then said, ‘The rest was mine.'

‘Do you mean the money you've been saving up to buy your own freedom?'

‘Yes.'

‘And how much have you got left?'

‘Nothing,' he said quietly.

I stared at him. It was an incredible gift. I knew he'd been saving up that money for years – now he would have to start all over again. For my sake, he would have to serve many more years as a slave. He might be an old man before he could be free.

‘Oh, Tiro . . .' There were no words to thank him enough. For I could see by his face that the choice hadn't been an easy one.

I couldn't think of anyone else who would give up so much for me – not even my own brother. Perhaps my father would have loved me enough to do it . . . perhaps not.

‘Tiro, you are better than a father to me,' I said.

He put his arm around me. ‘And you are like my son . . . like the son that I lost long ago. In years to come, I'll think of you. My two sons, one in the distant south – if he's still alive – and one far away to the north.' He smiled, but his dark eyes were full of sadness.

The next day, I spent a long time thinking. For more than a year I had been longing to go home. A thousand times over, I'd imagined returning to our village and meeting my family again.

But maybe none of them existed any more, except in my memories. Even those memories were growing fainter. I found it hard to picture my sisters' faces or remember my mother's voice. Did that mean they were dead? There was no way of finding out without making the long journey home. And that would mean saying goodbye to Tiro.

I felt as if I was being dragged in two directions, like a bone between two dogs. Tiro had given up so much for me. How could I simply leave, disappear from his life, as if I didn't care what happened to him?

I talked to Crispus and Marcella, who were amazed to hear what Tiro had done. He had kept it secret even from his friends.

Crispus said, ‘He gave up his own chance of freedom so that you could be free?'

‘He was following the master,' said Marcella. ‘He was being like Jesus, who gave up his life for us.'

‘Yes,' said Crispus. ‘
Love each other as I have loved you
. That's what Jesus told us to do.'

I said, ‘I don't know how I can ever repay Tiro. I can find work and give him the money I earn, but that won't be very much. He still won't be free for ages.'

I was sure that Tiro didn't expect me to repay him. He had set me free as a gift, asking nothing in return. I could leave Rome for ever, and he wouldn't try to stop me. And yet . . .

This was hard. I was so used to being ordered about, told what to do and where to go. But now I was free, and I had to make my own choices.

Free – yet not free. I remembered my prayer that night in prison, when I asked God to be my father. A son should obey his father. What would God want me to do?

Love one another as I have loved you . . .

All at once, I made up my mind. I would stay in Rome, find work, and help Tiro save up the price of his freedom. Then he would know that my gratitude was more than empty words.

Maybe one day I could go home. I couldn't give up the thought of it entirely – but for now my place was in Rome.

* * *

Crispus and Marcella thought my decision was a good one. They told me I could stay with them for as long as I liked.

I asked Crispus what sort of work I might be able to do, explaining that I'd spent some time working in a rich man's kitchen. He looked thoughtful.

‘How much do you know about baking bread?'

‘I don't know what goes into it – the cook did all that. But I can knead the dough and shape it all right.'

He said, ‘We could use an assistant in our bakery. My niece used to help out, but she's just got married. Would you be interested? We can't pay very much . . .'

‘And it's hard work at busy times,' put in Marcella.

I grinned to myself. She didn't know what hard work meant. This job would be easy compared to life on the farm.

‘Think about it,' said Crispus. ‘You don't need to decide right away.'

Another choice to make! Next day, I asked Tiro what he thought. It was the evening when the Christians met together, but Tiro had arrived early.

At first, he didn't understand me rightly. ‘Work for Crispus and Marcella? You mean, you're planning to stay in Rome for the winter? That's good,' he said.

‘Not just for the winter. I'm going to stay for a long time – until you're free, Tiro.'

‘That's even better.' His smile seemed to light up the room.

‘And everything I earn is yours – I owe you that.'

Tiro began to argue, as I knew he would. So I changed the subject. ‘You haven't answered my question. What do you think Crispus would be like as a boss?' As I said it, Crispus walked into the room.

‘Oh, he'd be terrible,' said Tiro, grinning at his friend. ‘Even worse than Quintus. He'd make you work night and day, and beat you if you complain.'

‘If he does, I can always leave,' I said. It was an odd feeling. I wasn't a slave any more. I didn't have to go on doing work I hated – I could simply walk away from it. Rome was a big place. There would be other jobs I could do.

When I first came to Rome, I hated and feared it. I thought that all Romans were my enemies. But now I was used to the place, and I knew that the Romans, just like my own tribe, were a mixture of good and bad, kindness and cruelty. The city, too, was a mixture, with all its wealth, poverty, grand temples and crowded slums.

I couldn't say I belonged there, or felt at home. But I did have friends, and I had Tiro, who was almost like family. And I had God as my father – the one true God, the lord of all the earth. If I hadn't come to Rome, I would never have known him.

Looking back, I saw how much the past year had changed me. I was no longer a frightened child, a captive surrounded by strangers who spoke an unknown language. I'd grown up a lot. I could earn my own living and make my own choices.

And best of all – I was free. My year of slavery was over.