The Blood of Caesar by Albert A. Bell

Author:Albert A. Bell [Bell, Albert A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Claystone Books
Published: 2017-03-20T06:00:00+00:00

Scrambling to my feet, I brushed the dirt off my tunic. “No. It’s ... it’s of no consequence. Do you want something?” From the way he was twisting his hands I knew he wanted to say something difficult.

He stopped a few paces away from me, looking down at his feet or over my shoulder—anywhere but at my face. “I want to thank you profusely, my lord, for overlooking my outburst here in the garden the other day. I never meant to threaten you. Please believe me. I would never do anything to harm you. You’ve been most kind to me and to my mother ...”

I suppressed a smile. “And you’ve recited the speech she wrote for you quite nicely. You need not finish it.”

His face reddened. “But, my lord—”

“I know you suffered horribly when Jerusalem was under siege, and I know I’ll never understand just how much you suffered. Some things we’re never able to put entirely out of our minds. To this day, whenever I see dark clouds on the horizon, I feel like I’m watching the eruption of Vesuvius again. You’ll never know how close my mother and I came to dying then and what scars that experience has left on both of us. She loved her brother and I loved my uncle as much as you and your mother loved yours.”

“I’ve no doubt of that, my lord.”

“You’re a clever man, Phineas. An accident of fate has made you a slave. Like the Stoics, I believe we should all work as hard as we can, in whatever place we find ourselves, and take advantage of whatever opportunities befall us. It may be your fate to be a slave now. That doesn’t mean it is your fate to be a slave for the rest of your life.”

“My lord, I was not going to ask for my freedom.”

“Nor was I going to offer it ... at this time. As far as I’m concerned, the incident in the garden is forgotten. I’m tired from my journey, and all I want at the moment is a bath.” A bath that would let me loosen muscles tight from riding and soak the bruises I had incurred in my struggle with Nelia. No one else seemed to appreciate that she wasn’t the only one who’d taken a hard fall off a horse and been dunked in a stream.

But that was not to be. I had just reached the door of the bath when Moschus caught up with me. “My lord, there is someone here to see you.”

“At this time of day? Tell him to come back tomorrow morning.”

“But, my lord, it’s Marcus Aquilius Regulus.”

Regulus? At my door? At this hour? What had I done to deserve that? Moschus kept his head down as though he was somehow to blame for Regulus’ appearance.

I sighed in resignation. “Tell him I’ll be there right away. I’d at least like to put on one of my own tunics. Offer him something to drink.” Something poisonous, I was tempted to add.

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