put you up to this?” I couldn’t help but ask. “Hiring me?”
“No, Sabina’s gone to Baiae with her stepmother and the children.”
I couldn’t help a twinge of disappointment. Sabina had put me off the night I kissed her, like a good girl should, but her finger had traced those deliberate circles on the back of the neck that had raised the hair on my arms—raised more than hair, truth be told, and that was not anything to be thinking about right now either. I shifted partway behind a handy chair.
“—Sabina’s idea, taking Calpurnia to the coast for a while,” the senator had continued, unaware of me. “My wife is to have another child”—a smile lit his face, softening the harsh marble-carved lines out of all recognition—“and she’s often queasy in the early months, so Sabina suggested sea air.”
He seemed to shake himself a little, looking back at me. “My idea, in any case, to offer you this position. It occurred to me that you stand some danger of becoming a thug. Your parents, I am sure, would not want that, and I do owe them a debt.”
“Hey,” I said. “I’m no thug.”
“You extort drunk boys in alleys for… what reason, then?”
Maybe he did know more than I took him for. “It’s a living.”
“Not much of one.”
“Being a bodyguard isn’t much either.”
“Consider it a stepping-stone. You will encounter interesting people in this house, people who might be able to help you. A bright young household officer might find a well-placed legate willing to sponsor him as a centurion.”
“In return for services rendered,” I snickered. “No, thanks.”
His mouth quirked. “That’s a danger, true. But there are benefits outweighing the dangers. Emperor Trajan always has his eye out for bright young warriors, and his officers are beginning to look for them too.”
Emperor Trajan. Rumor in the wine shops had it he was heading back up north to Germania soon, to step once and for all on a rebellious king in Dacia who wore a lion skin. I wouldn’t mind seeing an emperor closer up than a box at the races. Maybe something
would
come of working here, something more than just the lodging and light work and regular pay… I thought of fine, flower-tangled hair flowing through my hands, but blinked that particular image back.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” The senator poured a pale stream of wine into a goblet from a decanter at his elbow and pushed it toward me. “Welcome to the Norbanus household, Vercingetorix.”
“Thank you, sir. Dominus.” I remembered the change just in time—I’d have to address him as master of the house, now that I’d joined the household.
Steady pay or not, I didn’t really like calling anyone
Master
again.
Spring fluttered toward a damp hot summer, and I slid into the Norbanus household like an eel into a mud bank. And I had it good.
The work was light. There were only two other guards, both grizzled and graying, happy to dice in the cool garden while I headed off to escort the master to the Senate house. Senator Norbanus was a good master—he might be eagle-eyed over his scrolls, but he was absentminded as far as his household went. In the absence of his wife andchildren he was content to eat in his study, dropping crumbs unconcernedly on his wax tablets, or to take a packet of bread and cheese from the cook and limp down to the Capitoline Library, where he’d spend half the day in research. No beatings in this house; no slaves running away in the night or whipped for breaking a dish. I had a new cloak, thick enough to keep the summer rainstorms off my back. I had regular days off to go to the races or the games or the taverns or anywhere else I pleased. The hardest work I had to do was carry an armload of scrolls for Marcus Norbanus on his way to the Senate house.
So why did I feel so bloody
sour
?
“You’re so scowly, Vix,” the freckled slave girl giggled at me. Gaia, her name was, a Greek girl
“No, Sabina’s gone to Baiae with her stepmother and the children.”
I couldn’t help a twinge of disappointment. Sabina had put me off the night I kissed her, like a good girl should, but her finger had traced those deliberate circles on the back of the neck that had raised the hair on my arms—raised more than hair, truth be told, and that was not anything to be thinking about right now either. I shifted partway behind a handy chair.
“—Sabina’s idea, taking Calpurnia to the coast for a while,” the senator had continued, unaware of me. “My wife is to have another child”—a smile lit his face, softening the harsh marble-carved lines out of all recognition—“and she’s often queasy in the early months, so Sabina suggested sea air.”
He seemed to shake himself a little, looking back at me. “My idea, in any case, to offer you this position. It occurred to me that you stand some danger of becoming a thug. Your parents, I am sure, would not want that, and I do owe them a debt.”
“Hey,” I said. “I’m no thug.”
“You extort drunk boys in alleys for… what reason, then?”
Maybe he did know more than I took him for. “It’s a living.”
“Not much of one.”
“Being a bodyguard isn’t much either.”
“Consider it a stepping-stone. You will encounter interesting people in this house, people who might be able to help you. A bright young household officer might find a well-placed legate willing to sponsor him as a centurion.”
“In return for services rendered,” I snickered. “No, thanks.”
His mouth quirked. “That’s a danger, true. But there are benefits outweighing the dangers. Emperor Trajan always has his eye out for bright young warriors, and his officers are beginning to look for them too.”
Emperor Trajan. Rumor in the wine shops had it he was heading back up north to Germania soon, to step once and for all on a rebellious king in Dacia who wore a lion skin. I wouldn’t mind seeing an emperor closer up than a box at the races. Maybe something
would
come of working here, something more than just the lodging and light work and regular pay… I thought of fine, flower-tangled hair flowing through my hands, but blinked that particular image back.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” The senator poured a pale stream of wine into a goblet from a decanter at his elbow and pushed it toward me. “Welcome to the Norbanus household, Vercingetorix.”
“Thank you, sir. Dominus.” I remembered the change just in time—I’d have to address him as master of the house, now that I’d joined the household.
Steady pay or not, I didn’t really like calling anyone
Master
again.
Spring fluttered toward a damp hot summer, and I slid into the Norbanus household like an eel into a mud bank. And I had it good.
The work was light. There were only two other guards, both grizzled and graying, happy to dice in the cool garden while I headed off to escort the master to the Senate house. Senator Norbanus was a good master—he might be eagle-eyed over his scrolls, but he was absentminded as far as his household went. In the absence of his wife andchildren he was content to eat in his study, dropping crumbs unconcernedly on his wax tablets, or to take a packet of bread and cheese from the cook and limp down to the Capitoline Library, where he’d spend half the day in research. No beatings in this house; no slaves running away in the night or whipped for breaking a dish. I had a new cloak, thick enough to keep the summer rainstorms off my back. I had regular days off to go to the races or the games or the taverns or anywhere else I pleased. The hardest work I had to do was carry an armload of scrolls for Marcus Norbanus on his way to the Senate house.
So why did I feel so bloody
sour
?
“You’re so scowly, Vix,” the freckled slave girl giggled at me. Gaia, her name was, a Greek girl
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