Rome in Flames by Kathy Lee

Manius. He was only a couple of years younger than me. The slaves didn’t like him much – he was spoilt and hard to please, not at all like his little sister, Lucia.
    â€˜Are you a Celt?’ Manius asked me. ‘Where do you come from?’
    â€˜From the Iceni tribe,’ I told him.
    â€˜That’s not what I asked you. Do you come from Britain?’
    I nodded.
    â€˜I think I will have you as my attendant,’ he said. ‘It’s quite fashionable to have a British slave. Father, may I—’
    â€˜Silence, boy!’ the cook yelled at him. ‘Servants should not speak in front of their betters. Don’t you know anything?’
    I wondered how he dared talk to the master’s son like that. But everyone laughed. It seemed that anything was allowed during Saturnalia.
    One person, though, wasn’t even smiling. Theon glared at me from across the room. He looked as if he would like to kill me.
    I wanted to tell him not to worry – I had no desire to take over his job. But then, it wasn’t up to me. I was just a slave; I had to do whatever job I was given, even if Theon hated me for ever after.
    Oh well . . . by tomorrow, Manius would probably forget the idea. I really hoped he would.

– chapter x –
    Finding gold
    Â 
    We all ate far too much that night, and some people drank too much. Albus, the doorman, knocked over a whole jug of wine, which went everywhere.
    â€˜Someone call for young Manius to clean it up!’ he said.
    He was joking, of course. The master and his family had slipped away, leaving us to enjoy ourselves. They weren’t really our slaves – it was all a kind of game.
    The cook didn’t eat much, but he drank several cups of wine. He had his arm around the waist of Anna, the maid, who was giggling a lot and showing off in her borrowed finery. I looked for Tiro, but he had gone out. For some reason, he didn’t seem to enjoy Saturnalia as much as the others.
    Rufus gave a huge yawn. ‘This is where it gets boring. They all get drunk and make idiots of themselves.’
    â€˜Come to the dormitory, Bryn,’ said Clemens, ‘and we’ll teach you how to play dice. We’re allowed to gamble during Saturnalia.’
    They taught me the rules of the dice game, and then said we should start playing for money. But I didn’t want to risk losing my small amount of cash. I’d seen Quintus win money at the races, only to lose it all.
    â€˜Oh, go on,’ said Clemens. ‘It’s no fun without something to win or lose.’
    Rufus asked, ‘What are you saving your money for? Going to buy your freedom, are you?’ They both laughed, but the words made my ears prick up.
    â€˜Buy your freedom – what does that mean?’
    â€˜Slaves can go free if they save up enough money to pay the master what they’re worth,’ Rufus explained.
    â€˜But most people don’t bother, because it takes so long,’ said Clemens. ‘You ask Tiro. He’s been saving up for years and years, and he still hasn’t got enough.’ I felt even more grateful for the money Tiro had given me.
    Rufus sighed. ‘Well, if we can’t play for money, let’s use something else. Bryn, why don’t you fetch some of those little honey cakes from the dining room? There were lots of them left.’
    â€˜Honey cakes,’ groaned Clemens. ‘I never want another honey cake in my entire life.’
    Rufus nudged him with his elbow. ‘Go on, Bryn,’ he said to me.
    I guessed that when I went out they would take the chance to look for my money. I didn’t care – they could search the dormitory all night and never find it.
    In the shadowy passage that led to the dining room, the cook was kissing the maid. I felt embarrassed, and walked past pretending not to see them. When I came back with a plateful of cakes, they had gone. But in the place where they’d been standing, my