Read Online Roman Dusk by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Free Book Online

“And the colors. Not the black, but that deep-red and the black edged in silver—” She held up the garment. “This is wonderful. What is it?”
    “An Egyptian kalasiris in silk. I have three of them, for hot weather.”
    “You wear pleated silk in summer?” the girl marveled.
    “Yes,” he answered, and offered no other comment.
    “I will hang it with care, to keep the pleats sharp,” she said.
    “Thank you,” said Sanct-Franciscus. “I am delighted you approve.”
    The girl’s face froze and her cheeks went pale. “I didn’t mean …”
    “It isn’t important; I am not offended that you are pleased with my clothing,” said Sanct-Franciscus suddenly. “I only ask that you take good care of my things given into your care.”
    The two slaves nodded, and the man said, “If you will have our work reviewed before we are done, we may correct any mistakes we have made.”
    “Tigilus will do that,” said Sanct-Franciscus.
    “Very good, Dominus,” said the slaves in near-unison, but with slight hesitation that revealed their uneasiness with Tigilus.
    “Continue with your tasks,” Sanct-Franciscus said as he left the two.
    Tigilus was waiting on the other side of the dressing room shaking his head. “You will never have their respect if you do not hold them to their duty more stringently. Most Romans would beat the female for her insolence, or subdue her in other ways.” He licked his lips suggestively. “She and the male were beyond their place in speaking to you as they did. They have an obligation to respect your position, even if you are a foreigner. They will take advantage of your good-will.”
    “Why is that?” Sanct-Franciscus asked quietly.
    Although he offered no answer, Tigilus gave a put-upon sigh. “It isn’t like the old days, you know, when slaves could buy their freedom and the freedom of their families. Now there must be decuriae to decide if the purchase is possible, and to have their percentage of the transaction. The only freedom purchase they cannot share in is that of gladiators.”
    “And why is this?” Sanct-Franciscus asked.
    “Because there had been too many abuses—slaves buying their freedom for a single denarius and having nothing asked but that they allow their former masters to be their silent partners in business, which spared the former owners the burdens of taxes.” Tigilus folded his arms. “The decuriae now monitor all such transactions.”
    “Including their commoda of four percent,” said Sanet-Franciscus, with a suggestion of irony in his tone.
    “They seek to turn their work to every advantage,” said Tigilus with heavy, deliberate irony. Giving up trying to chasten his master for the moment, he asked, “What do you want me to do next?”
    “See my bed is put in place in the outer portion of the bedroom in the position marked on the floor; the large chest topped with a mattress to go in the rear portion of the room, behind the screen, and my personal goods bestowed in chests that are being brought up. Also, if you would, be sure the two in the next room have attended properly to my clothing.” Sanct-Franciscus glanced toward the door.
    “May I correct their failures?” Tigilus asked, a shade too eagerly.
    “If you mean may you beat them, you may not. If you think they have done things poorly or incorrectly, send for me and I will deal with them,” said Sanct-Franciscus; he began to wonder if he had erred in offering Tigilus the care of his apartments.
    “Of course, Dominus,” said Tigilus, ducking his head and taking two steps back.
    “Very good,” said Sanct-Franciscus automatically. “I will be downstairs for a while; you may find me in the larder.”
    “Of course, Dominus,” said Tigilus, bringing up his stylus and starting to write in the wax of his tablet.
    “I will leave you to it, then.” Stepping out onto the gallery, Sanct-Franciscus had the uneasy impression that something more than the door had closed between him and