“Not at all. Apparently our guest is afraid of the dark and found it more comfortable to spend the night with me than alone.”
“Oh.” It hadn’t even occurred to her that he might be afraid of the dark. She should have asked, or offered to leave a lamp lit. She really was ill-suited to taking care of a child. But perhaps this was just one more thing for her to learn. “Well, thank you. Max, are you hungry?”
“Starved.” He gave her an accusatory look, as if she hadn’t fed him triple helpings of dinner last night.
“Come along, then. We can see to breakfast.”
Max hopped off the bed and sprinted to the room’s threshold, but stopped short when he caught sight of Aelius in the corridor. He stared up at Aelius warily, hugging his arms around his thin body.
Aelius crouched down to put his face level with Max’s, speaking in that smooth voice that never failed to win people over. “I wanted to introduce myself properly, Max. I’m Aelius, Crispina’s husband. I’m very sorry for our argument yesterday. I should have welcomed you into our home straightaway.”
Max narrowed his eyes. “I ain’t afraid of you.”
“Am not,” Crispina said through a smile.
“Good,” Aelius said. “I’m not afraid of you either, but perhaps I would be if I were an antique vase.” He leaned toward Max, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Iamafraid of her, though.” His chin jerked toward Crispina. “Just a bit. So you must do exactly as she says when she is looking after you. Or else you may find yourself turned into a frog.”
Crispina put her hands on her hips. “Please don’t put ideas in his head.”
Max surveyed her. “She ain’t scary. When she—”
“Isn’t,” Crispina corrected firmly, cutting off the rest of Max’s words. She was afraid he was going to forget his promise from yesterday and mention something about her lessons. “Come along. Breakfast awaits.” She held out a hand.
Max eyed her hand for a long moment, then took it. “I wouldn’t mind being a frog. Just so you know.”
Crispina cast a dry glance back at a grinning Aelius. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
By the end of her first day with Max, Crispina wanted only to sink into a large tub of hot water in a dark, silent room.
“Are all children like this?” she asked Gaia as Max cavorted around the atrium, chasing a leather ball.
Gaia smiled indulgently. “He is rather energetic, isn’t he?”
They had removed everything breakable from the near vicinity, but Max had still managed to topple a stone planter, spilling dirt onto the tile floor. Even with Gaia’s help, it seemed a Herculean task to come up with enough activities to occupy the child for the day. Children, it seemed, couldn’t be left to their own devices. They had to be entertained, and it was exhausting.
They had set him to shelling peas in the kitchen for a while, turning it into a challenge to see who could shell the most in the shortest time. After that, Crispina had managed to get him to sit still for half an hour for another reading lesson, but he seemed more interested in scraping all the wax off the tablet than reading the letters she scratched out for him.
There had been a brief moment of quiet after lunch when he had been content to sit and watch Gaia weave, but soon he’d regained his energy and challenged himself to see if he could throw the ball far enough to land on the other side of the atrium pool. That activity was what had topped the planter.
He needed other children to play with. Unfortunately, none of the slaves had children. Crispina planned to visit Horatia tomorrow and ask her if she would allow Max to visit Paullus, as the boys were close enough to the same age.
A noise sounded from the front door, and Aelius emerged into the atrium toting an oddly-shaped bag over his shoulder. “Hello, ladies.” He greeted Crispina with a kiss and smiled at Gaia. “I’ve brought gifts for our young guest.” He waved Max over and set down his bag.
Max approached, clutching the ball in both hands. His eyes widened as Aelius removed four wooden ships from the bag, each a different size and shape. They even had sails of fine white linen.
Aelius laid them out in a row. “I thought we could try to sail them on the pool. Which do you like best?”
Max immediately jumped toward the biggest, a red-painted naval trireme with two sails. Aelius selected a smaller vessel modeled after a pleasure yacht one might sail at Baiae. “Shall we try them?”
Crispina retreated to the other side of the pool, leaning against a column to watch them. Gaia disappeared to check on dinner, and likely to steal some quiet time. Crispina could have done the same, but she couldn’t stop smiling at the sight of Aelius and Max.
They launched all four boats into the pool. One sprang a leak and sank immediately. Another became overbalanced by its mast and toppled over. Aelius’s pleasure yacht and Max’s trireme remained afloat. Max jumped up and down in excitement. He leaned forward, blowing air into the sails to send the boat halfway across the pool.
Aelius’s yacht soon overtook the trireme, by virtue of Aelius’s larger lungs. Max stuck his arms into the water and stirred up waves. Crispina wasn’t sure if he was trying to sink Aelius’s boat or induce his own to travel faster.
But the boats were stuck in the middle of the pool, too far away for the sails to work. Max’s shoulders slumped. “They’re stuck!” he complained.
Aelius nudged him. “All is not lost.” He gave Crispina a significant look. “I sense the presence of a sea goddess who may take mercy on our vessels.”
