be established for your mistress,' said Taiko in his most confident manner; he had done this many times before.
'If you are willing, I would like to see two more, the Briton and the fellow from Ptolemais. They have skills that would be of great use to my mistress, and she wishes to have these skills in her household at once.' Again he was hampered by his lack of skill with Greek, but he continued as best he could. 'I will inform my mistress of the aid you have given me.'
'That's good to know. All right—the Briton and the Ptolemaisi.' He clapped his hands and called out two more names. As the slaves came forward, he addressed them all. 'You have been selected for the household of the Roman lady Olivia Clemens. She will have two days to install you, and if you do not give satisfaction, she will return you to me, and I will deal with you accordingly. You are to be loyal and dutiful to her. God has given you your station in life and it is for you to bow your head to your fate.'
Most of the slaves made the sign of protection, but a few said nothing and remained still.
'You are to go with this bondsman, who will tell you what is required of you. Any deviation from his orders will be told to me and it will be part of your record. If you wish to live well, you will see that your record is kept clear of questions. Am I understandable to everyone?'
The Briton asked in halting Greek with a strong accent, 'If we are not… good speakers, what then?'
Niklos answered before Taiko could. 'My mistress, as this merchant has said, is Roman. She will do what she can to make all of you know what she says. And though I am Greek, I have lived most of my life in Roma, so my speech is not very good in Greek.'
This appeared to be the answer the Briton was seeking, and half of the slaves looked guardedly relieved.
It took a good part of the afternoon to attend to all the business of transferring the slaves to Olivia's household, and by the time Niklos left with an escort of five of Taiko's slaves to tend the sixteen Niklos had acquired, the sun was low in the west, its copper rays slanting through the city, making sudden paths of brightness amid the shadows.
By the time they reached Olivia's house, the sky was a deep and glowing violet. At the nearest church, the sound of chanting had begun to mark the offices of the close of day. The city, suspended in silence like prayer, was hovering on the edge of night. The torches that greeted them at the house Olivia had bought were bright and festive, out of keeping with the solemn darkness around them.
Niklos gave each of Taiko's slaves a silver coin for their assistance and was startled to find that they were unfamiliar with this custom. 'In Roma, it is always done for extra service,' Niklos explained, adding, 'My mistress keeps to her Roman ways, and so must I.'
Pammez shook his head but accepted the coin. 'How can slaves be trusted when they are given coins by others? It would suborn their loyalty. No wonder Roma has come on such dreadful times, if the slaves are treated so.' He indicated the others. 'Be wary, Roman, that you do not make your position more dangerous than it already is.'
Niklos dismissed Taiko's slaves, then opened the enormous doors to admit the rest. He gathered them together in the vestibule and faced them. 'In a short while you will meet your new mistress. I wish to tell you of how we conduct ourselves at this place. Olivia Clemens is a Roman lady, a widow, and she will want to continue here in the same manner that she has in Roma. You each will be permitted to accept money for service, and to keep it for yourself. You may set this aside to earn the price of your freedom, as the Roman slaves of old did. She will permit you to purchase your freedom for what she paid for you. This is also in the tradition of old Roma, and since she is part of an old and revered family, she will honor this custom. You will be assigned duties and will be expected to perform them unless injured or ill. If you are injured or ill, you will be required to report to the Ptolemaisi for his treatment—he is a physician, according to his records—and you will follow his instructions for your recovery until such time as he informs you that you need not. If you are abused by anyone not in this household, or by any slave in this household, you are to inform me at once.' He studied the faces turned toward him, noticing the expressionlessness that he had found on the countenances of most Byzantine slaves. He wanted to ask them if they understood but he could not bring himself to form the words. 'If any of you are uncertain about your place here, speak with me. When you have been assigned your duties and your quarters, you will gather in the slaves' hall for your meal. All meals will be served there unless you are informed of other plans. There will be a breakfast in midmorning and a second meal at the conclusion of the afternoon repose. Fruit and bread will be available at other times, if they are needed.' There had been a time, he reflected, that this was required of a slave owner, and not the strange custom it seemed to be now.
'What if the Roman lady is displeased with us?' asked the woman from beyond Vagarshapat.
'That will depend on why she is displeased,' said Niklos. 'If you have done wrong, you will be punished, but if you have only irritated her, then she will tell you what you have done wrong. When we are still unknown to each other there are bound to the errors and questions. While they are being settled, we must all make an effort to be alert. Once we have become more accustomed, then it will be otherwise.'
There was a light step behind him and he turned to see Olivia herself standing in the door to the main hall. She was dressed in a long, dark bronze paenula that completely swathed her in silk. Her ornamentation was subdued but subtly rich, and her fawn-brown hair was coiled on her head with only three long pearl-topped pins to hold it in place. She glided into the vestibule, her deep hazel eyes moving deliberately from one slave to the next. 'Niklos,' she said.
'My mistress,' he responded.
'So these are the slaves?' If she noticed the tension she had brought into the room, it was not reflected in her calm attitude and self-possessed air.
'As you ordered, my mistress.' He stepped back to let her move closer to the men and women.
'Very good.' She made a gesture of approval. 'I welcome you. If you think it strange that a mistress should welcome slaves, consider this house and how it would be if I had to care for it alone.' She indicated the torches burning in brackets around the room. 'The task of lighting the place alone would take most of my waking hours.'
'I have here the records, names, and history of the slaves from Taiko.' Niklos held out a small box.
'Bring it to my apartments once you have seen these people fed and given quarters. I will want my name engraved on their collars. And do not remind me that I am not entitled to do this; I paid good silver and gold for these men and women, and I will have my name on them.' Her head lifted imperiously. 'This may be Constantinople, but I am a Roman, and will be until the hour when I am truly dead.'
Niklos suppressed a smile: Olivia had intended to impress her new slaves and she had certainly succeeded.
It was more than her behavior, it was her quality and character that fixed the attention of the slaves so completely. He made a reverence to her. 'It will be done, great lady.'
At that Olivia laughed. 'Long ago in Roma the proper word was domita. Then it became domina. Either will do. If you call me 'great lady' I will feel even more a stranger than I do already.'
'Domita,' said Niklos, his tone making it clear that the others would do well to emulate him.
'Finish your remarks, Niklos. I will not stay to hamper you. When you are through, I will look forward to speaking with you.' She looked at her slaves once more. 'You are welcome here; if you are not, it will be your decision, not mine.' With that, she left the vestibule.
The entryroom was silent for several moments, and then Niklos took up the rest of his instructions. 'Our mistress,' he said, with a slight emphasis on
The youngest, a scrawny boy from Syracusa, said, 'I have seen many Romans, but never one like her.' He spoke in rough Latin, satisfied that Niklos would understand him.
'The Romans of the old Empire are not the same as those who came after. The Clemens gens goes back to the days before the conquest of the Sabines. They were of noble rank before Sulla was dictator. This is the heritage of our mistress; she lives by the code of her ancestors and the honor of her blood.'
The slaves all nodded to show that they had heard; only the boy from Syracusa and the woman from beyond Vagarshapat exchanged glances.
