Fic: The Dead Can Live (part 6 of 14)
Placidus dismissed the messenger and smiled to himself, for his plan was coming together just as he had hoped. He had known the purpose behind the numerous requests to see him as soon as Aquila’s first message had been received. Indeed, Placidus had counted on the man’s devotion to his freedman when he had let it be known around Calleva of the new Brigantes slave in his possession. Esca would immediately want to see one of his own and Aquila would not deny him. Placidus had been sure that once news of the slave reached Aquila the man would feel impelled to act without delay, just as he had when he decided on a whim to go searching for the lost eagle. Fortuna had been with Aquila on that occasion and the goddess had favoured him greatly but it was to be hoped that he had used up all his luck on that particular mission. This time it appeared to be Placidus who had Fortuna’s favour - firstly, in the recent rumours that had been circulating about the full extent of Aquila’s intimate involvement with his freedman, rumours which Placidus had gleefully ensured were passed on to as many of Calleva’s citizens as possible; secondly, in this slave he had managed to find and purchase. It had been a simple enough plan to concoct - it was as if the Gods had deliberately laid an opportunity for mischief at his feet.
He poured out some watered wine and toasted his ingenuity as he thought of the plan he had set in motion. Marcus Aquila and this Esca who had been his slave, they had humiliated him and this was to be his revenge. He knew many influential people and it had simply been a case of informing them of his specific requirements and sending scouts around the country, looking for a Brigantes slave. Not just any Brigantes, of course. He had to be the right age, with the right markings and he had to be one of the spears of Cunoval for surely Esca could not be the only one to have survived. Any such man would be a pawn in Placidus’ plan to annoy, irritate and generally cause trouble for Aquila and his freedman. Esca, son of the slain chieftain of the Brigantes, would surely not be so loyal to his Roman patron if one of his own kind was set in front of him. Placidus was no fool and he knew well enough the depth of the pride that lurked within the breasts of these native people. Yes, another Brigantes would surely bring strife and discord to their charmed lives! The anticipation had brought him nothing short of joy while his search had been underway and finally his efforts had brought him what he’d been looking for.
Yet when he had found his prey and made his purchase, the outcome had been better than he could ever have imagined. The slave had been brought before him and as soon as he had mentioned Esca, son of Cunoval, the slave’s eyes had lit up and Placidus had known that he had an extra, unexpected bow in his quiver. He knew that look; the eagerness, the warmth, the hope where before there had been none. Esca was more to this slave than merely the son of his slain chieftain.
“You know this man?” Placidus had asked, already knowing the answer but hardly daring to believe it. “You may speak freely.”
The slave had cast an unsure glance at him, puzzled at his new master’s offer and more than likely wondering if it was just a ruse to earn him a ferocious beating for insolence. He had overcome that fear quickly however, the lure of Aquila’s freedman too much for him to ignore.
“He would have become our chieftain one day, had the Romans not come,” the slave had said. “We were children together.” Placidus had seen how the man’s chest rose and fell quickly beneath his thin, threadbare tunic and he had heard the excitement in his hushed voice. “I never dared to hope that he still lived.”
“Well, live he does. A freedman now, for his master thought very highly of him.” The slave had said nothing so Placidus had continued. “Very highly indeed. Of course, it is acceptable for a Roman to bed his male slaves but quite shameful for both of them if such intimacies continue once the slave is freed. His former master must possess either great charm or great skills in the art of love for Esca to have chosen to stay in his bed once he had been given his freedom.”
The young slave’s head had snapped upwards at that, his eyes aflame yet Placidus had held no desire to chastise him for daring to look at his master in such a way. Such passion only strengthened the notion that his suspicions were correct and his search for a Brigantes to upset Aquila’s domestic arrangements had uncovered not just a tribesman of Esca’s but quite possibly someone to drive a permanent wedge between them.
“Esca would never choose to do such a thing with our enemy,” the slave had stated boldly, colour rising in his cheeks. “You must be mistaken.” As an afterthought, perhaps still wary of a beating for he was already bruised and apparently ill-used by his former master, he quietly added the word Dominus.
“You don’t like Romans?” Placidus had asked calmly. “But we have done so much to bring civilization to this land of yours. You must know that, having spent so long labouring to build our roads. You owe us respect and I must surely be a fair master to have told you of your old friend’s presence nearby and allowed you to speak with me.”
The slave had clamped his mouth shut and stared back down at his feet but Placidus had been satisfied.
He was still satisfied now as he sipped his wine and anticipated Marcus Aquila’s arrival the following day. He had made the man wait long enough and he was eager to see how the next part of his plan fared. Tomorrow at midday Marcus would come to see him and the cat would be well and truly set amongst the pigeons.
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Marcus could preach caution and look worried all he wanted but Esca did his best to ignore his concerns as they made their way to see the tribune. He did not like this Placidus. Esca had known many Romans like him, sly and untrustworthy, making trouble because it pleased them to do so and it bothered him that this as yet unknown Brigantes was beholden to such a man.
When they reached their destination they were greeted by a sentry and led to where Placidus was idly sifting through a pile of scrolls and wax tablets that littered the desk before him.
“Let me speak with him,” Marcus whispered. “Please,” he added, the worried frown he had worn all that morning and the evening before deepening.
Esca regarded him with as much annoyance as he could muster but he nodded his head in agreement anyway. He knew Marcus was right when he said they had to be cautious but still it vexed him. His freedom had been returned to him but he did not like the invisible chains that still held him back. He was free and yet he must conform to the laws and whims of a people who were not his own. A Roman had dictated that he had ownership over another Brigantes and therefore this Roman’s wishes must be met while Esca could not demand what he wanted. He wanted to see this slave, talk to him in their own language and once more be granted a glimpse of the past that was lost to him.
“Ah, Aquila! Welcome.” It seemed that Placidus had finally found the time to acknowledge them although he ignored Esca and spoke only to Marcus. “And I see you brought your freedman with you. The two of you truly are as inseparable as I have heard.”
The implication of his words was unmistakable despite the smile on his face and Esca felt Marcus tense beside him.
“I am most grateful you could find the time to see me,” Marcus said, his voice strained as he nodded his head in greeting to the tribune. Esca made no such gesture but merely took a deep breath to steady the agitation that churned in his stomach as he silently watched the two Romans and listened to their words.
“Your message implied that the matter was urgent,” Placidus declared, “and of course, I am glad to be of assistance. May I offer you some refreshment?”
Marcus declined on their behalf, which annoyed Esca as he was thirsty but still he stayed silent and waited for Marcus to put forward their request. He would not be fooled by the tribune’s pretence of benevolence for the man was a snake.
“I know you are busy with the business of the legion and I have no wish to take up more of your time than necessary.”
“Then speak up and tell me what service I can be of to you.” Placidus made no offer to allow them to sit on one of the stone benches that had been placed against the walls of the sparsely furnished room. “I am at your disposal.” Another oily smile, and Esca wanted to wipe it off his face with his fists.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I…..we have discovered that you own a slave, a Brigantes.”
“Yes, he is a recent purchase and I have not yet had the opportunity to decide what to do with him. I expect I shall send him to the villa my family are having constructed near Londinium. He will make a good worker.”
“As you may be aware, Esca is also Brigantes.”
“I am aware of that,” Placidus agreed. “It is a happy coincidence, is it not? I had no idea when I purchased him that he was of the same tribe as your sla…...your freedman but I believe he did mention it when I asked him his background and then there are the markings that he bears, inked onto his skin. They almost look identical to those I remember Esca being in possession of.”
That had been no innocent slip of his tongue, Esca thought and he bristled at the knowledge that he would always be a slave in the eyes of this arrogant shit! Impatience and irritation gnawed at him and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from demanding that Marcus and the tribune stop with all this irrelevant, petty chatter and get to the point; to let him see this man the tribune kept in slavery. He shot a scowl at Marcus to show his displeasure.
“I understand that this this will seem a strange request and I hope you do not take offence but….” Marcus hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his feet and Esca was suddenly angry that Placidus would keep him standing when he had full knowledge of the man’s old injury. “I would like to see him,” Marcus continued,” and I would appeal to you to allow Esca to speak with him.”
Placidus looked directly at Esca for the first time since they had arrived but he continued to address Marcus.
“A strange request indeed,” he said. “I had not expected that this would be your urgent matter.”
“Will you allow us to see him?”
“Hmmm.” The tribune seemed to mull the idea over in his head and Esca’s impatience grew until he was almost bursting from the frustration. It was a simple request, a request that would cause no hardship to Placidus. Whatever could the man have to think about?
After a ridiculously long time where Placidus stroked his chin and Marcus shifted on his feet and Esca despaired of both of these fools, Placidus raised his hand to beckon forward a man in a soldier’s uniform who stood just inside the doorway. Another minion tasked to serve the tribune, of that Esca had no doubt.
“Bring the Brigantes here and do not delay,” he said. “My friends wish to see him and I have no wish to deny them.”
Placidus smiled at Marcus again and Esca’s agitation slowly began to recede as they waited. He would have preferred a more direct approach rather than all the preamble but Marcus had made it seem as if there would be little chance of success and yet here they were, finally waiting for this unknown Brigantes to be presented to them. It would not do to trust Placidus completely but it appeared there was a tiny spark of decency in the man after all.
“If anyone else had asked such a thing I should have denied them without hesitation,” Placidus remarked. “But I consider you a true Roman and a friend, Aquila and I do not see any harm coming from granting your request.”
“I am in your debt,” Marcus murmured.
Esca had had enough of watching this exchange and he turned his attention to what he would say to his tribesman. He had slept fitfully the night before, his head full of things to say and questions to ask but now he could barely think of a single thing! He did not have long to wait however before the soldier returned, the slave trailing behind him, his head bowed as Esca had been forced to bow his head during his own slavery. That was, until he had come to serve Marcus. Marcus had never forced him to bow his head or show subservience. Marcus had never disciplined him for breaking the rules. Marcus had always treated him fairly. A now familiar stab of pain over recent events pierced Esca’s heart and he cast a quick glance across to where Marcus stood beside him before turning his eyes back to the slave.
The man raised his head and Esca found he could no longer breathe, all thoughts of Marcus banished from his mind for the moment. Surely his eyes were deceiving him for this could not be! Such a familiar face, such a familiar form, beloved still despite the years that had passed since Esca’s eyes had last looked upon him. Friend, lover, brother in arms, a ghost risen from death, proof once more that the dead can live.
The only man he had ever truly loved before Marcus.
Trenus.
He poured out some watered wine and toasted his ingenuity as he thought of the plan he had set in motion. Marcus Aquila and this Esca who had been his slave, they had humiliated him and this was to be his revenge. He knew many influential people and it had simply been a case of informing them of his specific requirements and sending scouts around the country, looking for a Brigantes slave. Not just any Brigantes, of course. He had to be the right age, with the right markings and he had to be one of the spears of Cunoval for surely Esca could not be the only one to have survived. Any such man would be a pawn in Placidus’ plan to annoy, irritate and generally cause trouble for Aquila and his freedman. Esca, son of the slain chieftain of the Brigantes, would surely not be so loyal to his Roman patron if one of his own kind was set in front of him. Placidus was no fool and he knew well enough the depth of the pride that lurked within the breasts of these native people. Yes, another Brigantes would surely bring strife and discord to their charmed lives! The anticipation had brought him nothing short of joy while his search had been underway and finally his efforts had brought him what he’d been looking for.
Yet when he had found his prey and made his purchase, the outcome had been better than he could ever have imagined. The slave had been brought before him and as soon as he had mentioned Esca, son of Cunoval, the slave’s eyes had lit up and Placidus had known that he had an extra, unexpected bow in his quiver. He knew that look; the eagerness, the warmth, the hope where before there had been none. Esca was more to this slave than merely the son of his slain chieftain.
“You know this man?” Placidus had asked, already knowing the answer but hardly daring to believe it. “You may speak freely.”
The slave had cast an unsure glance at him, puzzled at his new master’s offer and more than likely wondering if it was just a ruse to earn him a ferocious beating for insolence. He had overcome that fear quickly however, the lure of Aquila’s freedman too much for him to ignore.
“He would have become our chieftain one day, had the Romans not come,” the slave had said. “We were children together.” Placidus had seen how the man’s chest rose and fell quickly beneath his thin, threadbare tunic and he had heard the excitement in his hushed voice. “I never dared to hope that he still lived.”
“Well, live he does. A freedman now, for his master thought very highly of him.” The slave had said nothing so Placidus had continued. “Very highly indeed. Of course, it is acceptable for a Roman to bed his male slaves but quite shameful for both of them if such intimacies continue once the slave is freed. His former master must possess either great charm or great skills in the art of love for Esca to have chosen to stay in his bed once he had been given his freedom.”
The young slave’s head had snapped upwards at that, his eyes aflame yet Placidus had held no desire to chastise him for daring to look at his master in such a way. Such passion only strengthened the notion that his suspicions were correct and his search for a Brigantes to upset Aquila’s domestic arrangements had uncovered not just a tribesman of Esca’s but quite possibly someone to drive a permanent wedge between them.
“Esca would never choose to do such a thing with our enemy,” the slave had stated boldly, colour rising in his cheeks. “You must be mistaken.” As an afterthought, perhaps still wary of a beating for he was already bruised and apparently ill-used by his former master, he quietly added the word Dominus.
“You don’t like Romans?” Placidus had asked calmly. “But we have done so much to bring civilization to this land of yours. You must know that, having spent so long labouring to build our roads. You owe us respect and I must surely be a fair master to have told you of your old friend’s presence nearby and allowed you to speak with me.”
The slave had clamped his mouth shut and stared back down at his feet but Placidus had been satisfied.
He was still satisfied now as he sipped his wine and anticipated Marcus Aquila’s arrival the following day. He had made the man wait long enough and he was eager to see how the next part of his plan fared. Tomorrow at midday Marcus would come to see him and the cat would be well and truly set amongst the pigeons.
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Marcus could preach caution and look worried all he wanted but Esca did his best to ignore his concerns as they made their way to see the tribune. He did not like this Placidus. Esca had known many Romans like him, sly and untrustworthy, making trouble because it pleased them to do so and it bothered him that this as yet unknown Brigantes was beholden to such a man.
When they reached their destination they were greeted by a sentry and led to where Placidus was idly sifting through a pile of scrolls and wax tablets that littered the desk before him.
“Let me speak with him,” Marcus whispered. “Please,” he added, the worried frown he had worn all that morning and the evening before deepening.
Esca regarded him with as much annoyance as he could muster but he nodded his head in agreement anyway. He knew Marcus was right when he said they had to be cautious but still it vexed him. His freedom had been returned to him but he did not like the invisible chains that still held him back. He was free and yet he must conform to the laws and whims of a people who were not his own. A Roman had dictated that he had ownership over another Brigantes and therefore this Roman’s wishes must be met while Esca could not demand what he wanted. He wanted to see this slave, talk to him in their own language and once more be granted a glimpse of the past that was lost to him.
“Ah, Aquila! Welcome.” It seemed that Placidus had finally found the time to acknowledge them although he ignored Esca and spoke only to Marcus. “And I see you brought your freedman with you. The two of you truly are as inseparable as I have heard.”
The implication of his words was unmistakable despite the smile on his face and Esca felt Marcus tense beside him.
“I am most grateful you could find the time to see me,” Marcus said, his voice strained as he nodded his head in greeting to the tribune. Esca made no such gesture but merely took a deep breath to steady the agitation that churned in his stomach as he silently watched the two Romans and listened to their words.
“Your message implied that the matter was urgent,” Placidus declared, “and of course, I am glad to be of assistance. May I offer you some refreshment?”
Marcus declined on their behalf, which annoyed Esca as he was thirsty but still he stayed silent and waited for Marcus to put forward their request. He would not be fooled by the tribune’s pretence of benevolence for the man was a snake.
“I know you are busy with the business of the legion and I have no wish to take up more of your time than necessary.”
“Then speak up and tell me what service I can be of to you.” Placidus made no offer to allow them to sit on one of the stone benches that had been placed against the walls of the sparsely furnished room. “I am at your disposal.” Another oily smile, and Esca wanted to wipe it off his face with his fists.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I…..we have discovered that you own a slave, a Brigantes.”
“Yes, he is a recent purchase and I have not yet had the opportunity to decide what to do with him. I expect I shall send him to the villa my family are having constructed near Londinium. He will make a good worker.”
“As you may be aware, Esca is also Brigantes.”
“I am aware of that,” Placidus agreed. “It is a happy coincidence, is it not? I had no idea when I purchased him that he was of the same tribe as your sla…...your freedman but I believe he did mention it when I asked him his background and then there are the markings that he bears, inked onto his skin. They almost look identical to those I remember Esca being in possession of.”
That had been no innocent slip of his tongue, Esca thought and he bristled at the knowledge that he would always be a slave in the eyes of this arrogant shit! Impatience and irritation gnawed at him and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from demanding that Marcus and the tribune stop with all this irrelevant, petty chatter and get to the point; to let him see this man the tribune kept in slavery. He shot a scowl at Marcus to show his displeasure.
“I understand that this this will seem a strange request and I hope you do not take offence but….” Marcus hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his feet and Esca was suddenly angry that Placidus would keep him standing when he had full knowledge of the man’s old injury. “I would like to see him,” Marcus continued,” and I would appeal to you to allow Esca to speak with him.”
Placidus looked directly at Esca for the first time since they had arrived but he continued to address Marcus.
“A strange request indeed,” he said. “I had not expected that this would be your urgent matter.”
“Will you allow us to see him?”
“Hmmm.” The tribune seemed to mull the idea over in his head and Esca’s impatience grew until he was almost bursting from the frustration. It was a simple request, a request that would cause no hardship to Placidus. Whatever could the man have to think about?
After a ridiculously long time where Placidus stroked his chin and Marcus shifted on his feet and Esca despaired of both of these fools, Placidus raised his hand to beckon forward a man in a soldier’s uniform who stood just inside the doorway. Another minion tasked to serve the tribune, of that Esca had no doubt.
“Bring the Brigantes here and do not delay,” he said. “My friends wish to see him and I have no wish to deny them.”
Placidus smiled at Marcus again and Esca’s agitation slowly began to recede as they waited. He would have preferred a more direct approach rather than all the preamble but Marcus had made it seem as if there would be little chance of success and yet here they were, finally waiting for this unknown Brigantes to be presented to them. It would not do to trust Placidus completely but it appeared there was a tiny spark of decency in the man after all.
“If anyone else had asked such a thing I should have denied them without hesitation,” Placidus remarked. “But I consider you a true Roman and a friend, Aquila and I do not see any harm coming from granting your request.”
“I am in your debt,” Marcus murmured.
Esca had had enough of watching this exchange and he turned his attention to what he would say to his tribesman. He had slept fitfully the night before, his head full of things to say and questions to ask but now he could barely think of a single thing! He did not have long to wait however before the soldier returned, the slave trailing behind him, his head bowed as Esca had been forced to bow his head during his own slavery. That was, until he had come to serve Marcus. Marcus had never forced him to bow his head or show subservience. Marcus had never disciplined him for breaking the rules. Marcus had always treated him fairly. A now familiar stab of pain over recent events pierced Esca’s heart and he cast a quick glance across to where Marcus stood beside him before turning his eyes back to the slave.
The man raised his head and Esca found he could no longer breathe, all thoughts of Marcus banished from his mind for the moment. Surely his eyes were deceiving him for this could not be! Such a familiar face, such a familiar form, beloved still despite the years that had passed since Esca’s eyes had last looked upon him. Friend, lover, brother in arms, a ghost risen from death, proof once more that the dead can live.
The only man he had ever truly loved before Marcus.
Trenus.