#FridayFlash: Play For Me, Slave

Caius Publius Livinius stood under the shade of an awning and sipped a mug of wine while he waited for the slave to gather his things. He assumed that was the cause of the delay, since it was unlikely the man had to break off any romantic or familial attachments with any of Marcus Secondus Flavius's other slaves. Caius Publius could afford to be generous with his time. Besides, since the slave was a musician, he was probably packing his instruments. That kind of thing always took time.

With a raised finger, he called the wine seller over. "Fill a fresh skin and take it over to my driver. Take him a mug to drink, as well. No, not the red. It's too hot a day for sweet wine. Make it the white."

The wineman knuckled his forehead and dipped a long ladle into one of the amphorae. He filled a large mug with cool wine then took several ladles to fill a skin (not as new as Caius Publius could have wished) and stoppered it. Both of these he walked out into the blazing mid-day sun toward the chariot that stood near Marcus Secondus' house. The driver stowed the skin under the dashboard, out of the sun. He took the mug in both hands and turned to the shady winestall to bow his head in thanks before he drank from it. Caius Publius took care of his driver because he was a good slave. His driver, in turn, did his work well and showed proper respect because Caius Publius was a good owner. He'd never had any trouble from his slaves, unlike Marcus Secondus.

Delicately, Caius Publius ate another honeyed date and licked his fingers clean, waving away the flies that gathered around.

The neighborhood was tolerably fashionable, or at least not intolerably unfashionable. Caius Publius knew Marcus Secondus from the poetry readings, religious observances and other social functions of their class. They were friends of a sort. Caius Publius owned a fair amount of land and a small estate up in the hills. No longer a farmer himself, he now had slaves work some of his land while the rest he leased to freedmen and yeomen. Grain and grape, pigs and poultry, it all came to the right side of the ledger. He rarely had to tell his tenants what to do. He had a talent for making unproductive land yield up more than other men. They saw the abundance his unorthodox methods coaxed from the rocky soil and they copied him. Or they did not and were ruined. Several of his slaves had formerly been freedmen who'd sold themselves into servitude to pay off their debts.

From the portico of Marcus Secondus' house, the musician slave emerged with his bundles, blinking in the bright sunlight. Caius Publius had known about Marcus Secondus' looming cash flow problem even before Marcus Secondus. A mild plague had swept the lower parts of the city in recent weeks. It was enough to bring shipping to a halt while the sailors puked and voided themselves in dayhouses down by the docks. With much of his stock of spices sitting in warehouses, Marcus Secondus could have weathered the crisis, but, like a fool, he'd recently been speculating in wines.

For over a year, ever since he'd heard him play that one particular song at the Feast of Jupiter, Caius Publius had been waiting for a chance to buy that particular slave. Now, to gain some time with his creditors, Marcus Secondus had been glad to take a decent price for the man. Any decent, respectable house had a musician or two, but the house of Marcus Secondus had ever been known more for the quality of its fleshly comfort slaves than for any real refinement. And for the wine, of course. Of late, the wine had been quite good.

Caius Publius ate the last date and drained his mug. He took a silver coin from his purse and gave it to the wineman, receiving two coppers in return. Holding a shielding hand over his brow, he crossed the street and stepped into the chariot next to his driver, noting the carefully wrapped bundles that had been stowed up front. Lyre, flute and a small set of drums, judging by the shapes. He turned and looked down at his new slave, the man who had been the chief subject of his thoughts this last year.

"What's your name?"

"Master, if it pleased you, my name is Ferro."

"Ferro. That will do, I see no need to change it."

"Thank you, master."

"Let us understand each other, Ferro. You belong to me now, no longer to Marcus Secondus Flavius. I like an orderly house. Do your work well and I shall treat you well. Shirk or resist and I shall beat you. Come the day I determine that you are more trouble than you're worth, I shall sell you off for what I can get for you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, master, thank you. I shall work hard to please you."

"I know you will, for I shall see to it that you do. We have a journey of some distance. My driver will set a steady pace, so don't dawdle. I will require you to sing at least part of the way."

"Yes, master. Shall I begin now?"

"No, wait until we clear the city."

"Yes, master. May I ask if the master has any particular favorite? A foreign song, perhaps? A song of yesterday? Or a song to make a man twist and shout?"

You sly bastard, thought Caius Publius, you know, don't you? You thought I was from the future, too, but you had to be sure - that's why you played "Eleanor Rigby" on your harp that night! All this time, I was waiting to get you, but you've been waiting to come to me!

"Hold songs like that until we get out to the estate. For now, play something... unobtrusive."

===== Feel free to comment on this or any other post.