Commodus is tired of his freaks and naked dancing girls, and bored with people fighting to the death for him, so providing something different is a route to quick reward. They’ve had entertainments here every night since Lucius arrived.’
I frowned. ‘There’s nothing very different about tonight’s performers, though. High-class and expensive, but not unusual. If the Emperor’s been used to nude extravaganzas, this will seem very tame. There must be dozens of Iberian dancing girls in Rome.’
‘I don’t know about that.’ Aulus spat noisily into the dust. ‘I just know there were some performers here the other night, and Lucius offered them a chance to go to Rome. And after that, of course, every entertainer in Britannia wants to come, in case they catch his eye. The master could have had his pick of the best acts in the province and paid them only an
as
or two apiece. He knows a bargain when he sees one – I expect that’s what he’s done.’ He glanced towards the back lane to the villa, where the dancing girls had disappeared from view, and bared his teeth in an unpleasant grin. ‘Not that I shall see them. You will be the one to benefit, at the feast tonight.’ He leaned forward and the smell of bad teeth came wafting over me. ‘You’ll tell me afterwards if they were any good?’
I nodded nervously and edged away. Aulus’s cudgel was not the only thing about him that could knock a man sideways. ‘Of course,’ I promised weakly, hoping that he would not want too many salacious details. ‘But now I see the driver has turned the cart round, and it is time I went home, or I shan’t be ready in time to come back later on. Come, Kurso!’
‘And you won’t forget to tell the master . . .?’ the gatekeeper began, but I left him to it, and drove home to Gwellia.
Chapter Eight
We got back to the roundhouse to find signs that someone had been very busy while we were away. The earth path from the front gate had been swept clear of weeds and stones, all the way through the enclosure to the door, and fresh new piles of brushwood kindling were stacked neatly on each side. Even as I sat wondering at this proof of industry, Maximus and Minimus came running out and I was handed down from the cart with as much care as if I had been the Emperor himself, while Kurso scrambled down beside me and looked doubtfully around.
‘You see what we’ve been doing, master?’ Maximus began, and Minimus went on.
‘It was the mistress who suggested it. We brought some water from the stream for her . . .’
‘. . . and we were to brush the path and fetch some kindling while she went off to wash . . .’
‘. . . and then stand by to help you to get ready when you came.’
They were so enthusiastic that they made me smile. I had almost forgotten that I had this extra pair of slaves (at least until Marcus came back from Rome) and I had expected that they would find my household difficult at first. Their duties at the villa had been decorative ones, largely confined to fetching trays and announcing visitors (rather as Niveus was doing now). They were used to Roman comforts and convenience, not a smoky Celtic roundhouse with a central hearth. No fine mosaics and Roman plumbing here – every drop of water had to be brought up from the stream and all the cooking took place on the fire. Of course a slave must expect to do anything he’s asked, but these two were not accustomed to hard and heavy work.
‘Well’ – I turned to Kurso – ‘it appears the mistress has two pairs of willing hands, so she won’t need your help for the time being. You can go back to the garden and leave these boys to do the other work – obviously they’re very good at it.’
I had intended this as praise for them, but Kurso was as pleased as anyone. He flashed me a delighted smile, and set off for his beloved plants and animals. I saw him disappearing into the enclosure at the back, where immediately a cluster of hungry chickens started
I frowned. ‘There’s nothing very different about tonight’s performers, though. High-class and expensive, but not unusual. If the Emperor’s been used to nude extravaganzas, this will seem very tame. There must be dozens of Iberian dancing girls in Rome.’
‘I don’t know about that.’ Aulus spat noisily into the dust. ‘I just know there were some performers here the other night, and Lucius offered them a chance to go to Rome. And after that, of course, every entertainer in Britannia wants to come, in case they catch his eye. The master could have had his pick of the best acts in the province and paid them only an
as
or two apiece. He knows a bargain when he sees one – I expect that’s what he’s done.’ He glanced towards the back lane to the villa, where the dancing girls had disappeared from view, and bared his teeth in an unpleasant grin. ‘Not that I shall see them. You will be the one to benefit, at the feast tonight.’ He leaned forward and the smell of bad teeth came wafting over me. ‘You’ll tell me afterwards if they were any good?’
I nodded nervously and edged away. Aulus’s cudgel was not the only thing about him that could knock a man sideways. ‘Of course,’ I promised weakly, hoping that he would not want too many salacious details. ‘But now I see the driver has turned the cart round, and it is time I went home, or I shan’t be ready in time to come back later on. Come, Kurso!’
‘And you won’t forget to tell the master . . .?’ the gatekeeper began, but I left him to it, and drove home to Gwellia.
Chapter Eight
We got back to the roundhouse to find signs that someone had been very busy while we were away. The earth path from the front gate had been swept clear of weeds and stones, all the way through the enclosure to the door, and fresh new piles of brushwood kindling were stacked neatly on each side. Even as I sat wondering at this proof of industry, Maximus and Minimus came running out and I was handed down from the cart with as much care as if I had been the Emperor himself, while Kurso scrambled down beside me and looked doubtfully around.
‘You see what we’ve been doing, master?’ Maximus began, and Minimus went on.
‘It was the mistress who suggested it. We brought some water from the stream for her . . .’
‘. . . and we were to brush the path and fetch some kindling while she went off to wash . . .’
‘. . . and then stand by to help you to get ready when you came.’
They were so enthusiastic that they made me smile. I had almost forgotten that I had this extra pair of slaves (at least until Marcus came back from Rome) and I had expected that they would find my household difficult at first. Their duties at the villa had been decorative ones, largely confined to fetching trays and announcing visitors (rather as Niveus was doing now). They were used to Roman comforts and convenience, not a smoky Celtic roundhouse with a central hearth. No fine mosaics and Roman plumbing here – every drop of water had to be brought up from the stream and all the cooking took place on the fire. Of course a slave must expect to do anything he’s asked, but these two were not accustomed to hard and heavy work.
‘Well’ – I turned to Kurso – ‘it appears the mistress has two pairs of willing hands, so she won’t need your help for the time being. You can go back to the garden and leave these boys to do the other work – obviously they’re very good at it.’
I had intended this as praise for them, but Kurso was as pleased as anyone. He flashed me a delighted smile, and set off for his beloved plants and animals. I saw him disappearing into the enclosure at the back, where immediately a cluster of hungry chickens started
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