Page 80 of Enslaved
It seemed that every inch of stuccoed wall was painted with messages and advertisements. Mercury, the god of gain, was painted on the wall of a money-changer, and crude serpents were painted everywhere as guardians. She saw aceler,or notice writer, with a noisy crowd gathered about him as he wrote with a piece of red chalk about a gladiator fight in the Amphitheater of Taurus. Everything was written on the walls, from love notes to curses to rude verses. The walls were obviously the writing paper of the masses. If a slave was for sale, his name and attributes went up on the wall. If a garret over a store was for rent, it was also advertised on the wall.
The only thing that Diana found offensive was the incessant noise. People screamed at one another so they could be heard above the racket of corn grinders, builders’ hammers, costermongers’ cries, schoolmasters who gave their lessons on the streets, and dozens of would-be poets spouting endless diatribes.
Suddenly came the shouts of a dozen Praetorian guards in gilded helmets and breastplates. “Make way, make way,” they bawled, pushing slaves and hucksters aside with their spear butts. Even Marcus and his guards had to dismount while the Praetor, a magistrate of the people, passed by.
At the next street they met a procession of priests and priestesses banging drums, blaring trumpets, and waving hands holding castanets and bronze rattles. The women were dark-skinned Syrians, whirling in wild dances, hair flying, on their way to the Temple of Cybele to spend a day of orgy.
Suddenly, Diana’s litter came to a halt as another vast procession took precedence. Marcus rode back to her, cursing.
“It must be someone important,” she ventured.
A filthy epithet fell from Marcus’ lips. “She thinks she’s important. Her old husband is a millionaire. There should be a law against such vulgar ostentation.”
Diana watched in awe as a great concourse of handsome slaves marched past with boxes and packages on their shoulders. Next came a group of pretty Levantine slave girls in gaudy veils, then an Egyptian boy holding a pet monkey, and a slave girl carrying a yapping lapdog in its basket. Next came the great lady’s troupe of musicians, followed by a hundred slaves and freedmen carrying caskets and trunks of valuables and costly garments.
Finally, “Her Magnificence” appeared in a litter borne by eight identical Nubians. She leaned back upon her cushions, bored with the world, indifferently fanning herself with a jewel-handled ostrich fan. Her dark hair was sprinkled with gold dust and Diana’s mouth fell open as she saw that the woman wore only a loin dress below her waist and pearls above.
“She’s likely moving from her palace to one of her country villas. Even the Praetor had his litter set down while he greeted her,” Marcus said with disgust, “which proves that even official rank must yield to the conquering flash of gold.”
Diana could feel his outrage at being kept waiting. She smiled up at him. “It gives me a chance to observe everything at my leisure. Look, there’s a dice game on the pavement!”
He looked with arrogance at the swarms of people. “Idlers and parasites! Mostly slaves of the wealthy. Their tasks are so few they have too much time on their hands, which they spend gambling and indulging in coarse sexual encounters.”
Marcus was embarrassed at how much his city’s mores had degenerated. People did things openly in the streets that should have only taken place in privacy. Men pissed in the gutters and whores serviced their customers in doorways. He thanked his gods that Aquae Sulis would never sink to this level.
Finally, they left the more commercial districts behind as they ascended the hills. They now passed larger public buildings such as the baths and temples, and establishments that catered to wealth. Imposing triumphal arches spanned avenues and heroic statues in prancing chariots turned this section of the city into a showplace.
The architecture was in the Greek style, but rather more embellished, and in Diana’s opinion, rather vulgar. Each and every column was overdone in the ornate, florid Corinthian style, and the garish blue, green, and orange marble was in rather poor taste, with far too many scrolls and floriated designs.
When they arrived at the villa of Titus Magnus, however, Diana could find no fault in its superb taste, though she was staggered when she contemplated what it must have cost. Its unremarkable exterior only added to the shock of her senses when she stepped through the lofty Ionic pillars of the portal.
All the chambers were built around open courts, each with its garden, pool, and fountain. Light and sun streamed in everywhere. The rooms leading from the first court were both numerous and spacious. An open balcony encircled the upper story. A dozen slaves met them at the entrance, while another dozen entered the atrium, carrying cooled drinks and sweetmeats. All wore pale yellow togas with ram’s head insignias on their shoulders.
Diana hung back, watching Marcus and Petrius stride into the first court and greet the older slaves who had been with the family for years. Marcus turned back and brought her forward.
“How many slaves?” she whispered.
“A hundred and fifty when I was here last.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t let it overwhelm you.” He led her down a magnificent, light-bathed hall until they entered a second court, even larger and handsomer than the first, with another array of dependent chambers. The floors were made of mosaic tile, the walls and pillars of pale Luna marble. In the center, graceful dancing nymphs shot great jets of crystal water into a circular white marble pool, edged with luxurious water plants. Sculptures and fine art objects upon carved pedestals were scattered throughout the villa.
The majordomo, Lucas, greeted Marcus warmly. “Your father is in his chamber and asks that you go to him. He is not as young and vigorous as you remember him,” Lucas cautioned him, “but his pride is still intact. He sends greetings to your lady and will see her at dinner.”
Lucas clapped his hands and a dozen olive-skinned slave girls came forward. “I chose these female slaves for your lady. They will have no other duties but to attend her. I have taken the liberty to choose a suit of rooms for her overlooking the peristyle garden, not too distant from your own chambers, General.”
Marcus’ eyebrows rose with amusement. “The arrangements are rather formal, as is your address, Lucas.”
“Now that you are a general, it is only proper to use your formal address. After the wedding you and your bride will require a larger suite.”
Marcus’ lips twitched as he thought of the separate sleeping arrangements. He would try to be discreet until they were married, when he could openly take Diana to his bed.
“Put yourself in the girls’ hands,” Marcus told Diana. “I know you are longing to bathe and change your clothes. If you don’t have enough maids, there are plenty more female slaves with idle hours to fill.”
The girls led Diana away and Tor followed doggedly, his hand on his flagellum. Once they were all inside her sleeping chamber, they giggled and touched his muscles with delight. Tor looked as though he’d died and gone to heaven.
One of the slave girls turned to Diana to speak. “My name is Livi, my lady. Do we have your permission to see to your bodyguard’s needs, as well as yours?”
Tor rolled his eyes in supplication toward Diana. The corners of her mouth went up with the wickedness of her thoughts. “I want you to keep him happy. Do you suppose you could take turns? He will sleep in the adjoining chamber. Does it have a couch?”
The girls opened the adjoining door to show them that indeed the chamber was furnished with a sleeping couch. She stepped into the room with him for a moment.
