Page 48 of Brother at Arms

Chapter 15

Cassia and I studied each other, I in bewilderment, she in defiance.

“He will give us no choice,” I said.

Though I was now a libertus, I was still not free to do as I pleased, Cassia even less so. We were indebted to a benefactor and subject to the whims of an increasingly unpredictable princeps.

“The terms of our contract are clear.” Cassia’s voice held determination. “I at last persuaded Hesiodos to let me read it. You are to maintain yourself the best you can in this apartment until our benefactor has need of your services. A servant—me—will be provided to help look after your day-to-day life and assist you as you require. The contract will terminate when the benefactor has decided there is no more need for you, or in ten years, whichever comes first.”

“Ten years?” I hadn’t heard this before.

“Hesiodos himself insisted on that clause. Otherwise, he said, we could argue in court that the contract keeps you more or less enslaved, as you are paid no salary and have to come up with our rent, when you are legally a freedman.”

I could imagine Hesiodos, with his dry practicality, encouraging the benefactor’s man of business to put in the stipulation. Not to be kind, I was certain, but to make the contract more difficult to fight.

I’d noted that Hesiodos had disappeared well before Nero had started taking out his anger on me and hadn’t reappeared when we departed. As Aemil would put it, Hesiodos was a man who’d make sure his arse wasn’t the one left flapping in the breeze.

“What about you?” I asked. “In ten years, when we are finished with this contract, will you be freed as well?”

Cassia shook her head. “There is no provision for a change in my status. However, at the end of ten years, I plan to have enough money set aside to buy my own freedom. I will make certain it is recorded in the courts so there is no doubt. I know the price of a scribe and how much I will need to put by.”

My self-pity fled as she calmly outlined her strategy.

It abruptly became clear why she kept such careful accounts, cajoled me into finding employment, and used every way possible to save on day-to-day items, like the bread she’d finagled the baker into providing us for no charge. It explained why she hid money in niches in the floor, and why she’d sent me out to the banker in the Forum for whatever scheme she had in mind.

“Why haven’t you told me this before?” I asked.

“I only found out what the contract said very recently. It took me some time to persuade Hesiodos to show it to me. I’ve had the idea that I could save to purchase my freedom ever since Hesiodos took me from the market, but now I have a timeline.”

The fact that she had eight and a half more years to prepare seemed to cheer her. To me, the time stretched longer than I could fathom.

“I never knew about this contract,” I said in some irritation. “How can it bind me if I never saw or signed it?”

“You signed it, so to speak, when you accepted the rudis. I find that insidious, but unfortunately, the way the contract is written, it is perfectly legal. Hesiodos knows the law very well, and when I asked another advocate for his opinion, he agreed the contract was correct.”

“The princeps is above the law,” I said. “If you are saying he can’t break the contract and take you away, you are wrong. He can do whatever he likes.”

“Not entirely.” Cassia gave me a smug smile. “When the princeps tries to go too far, the senate can still draw him back—it has happened more than once, and he is always anxious to have public opinion in his favor. Hence, he busies himself with music, racing, and planning his endless house.”

I was not as sanguine. Nero had manipulated and murdered to gain and retain his power, and he’d likely keep on doing so. If the benefactor, Hesiodos, or I tried to stop him taking Cassia, we probably wouldn’t live long enough to hinder him.

“I was going to purchase you,” I found myself saying.

“Pardon?” Cassia, who’d returned to writing, abruptly lifted her head, a pucker creasing her brow. “Purchase me? Why?”

My face warmed. “I asked Hesiodos if I could. So that you wouldn’t have to answer to this benefactor and do as you wish.”

I thought she’d soften into another smile or say she was pleased I’d thought of it, but she remained confused.

“Are you certain? Scribes are very costly. We have special skills that make us quite expensive.”

“When Hesiodos purchased you, you were not being sold as a scribe,” I reminded her.

“That is true.” Cassia quieted. “My mistress sent me out as nothing more than a body servant. Likely why Hesiodos took me. I was cheap, and he thought I’d sweep floors and polish your fingernails.”

I did not laugh. “Hesiodos told me the benefactor would not part with you and to give up the idea.”

Cassia laid her stylus carefully across the wooden frame of her tablet. “Well, I suppose we must wait the rest of the ten years, then. But you won’t need to come up with the money. I have been putting my share by—legitimately, of course, without taking what is rightfully yours.”