The Gladiator

The slave was an elderly man, stooped and frail-looking. He had long been conditioned to being silent and avoiding the eyes of his masters. Macro watched him for a moment, won de ring what it must be like to live as a slave. He had been used to seeing them on the streets of Ostia and Rome as a child, and so had never really considered what it must mean to be one. Since then, he had spent long years in the army, where the slaves he had encountered had mostly been when he was off duty. There had also been a handful of occasions when he had seen proud enemy warriors taken captive, chained up and marched away into slavery. Indeed, he had profited from his share of such prisoners, and the money he had gained had rather obscured the fates of those who had thus enriched him.

As the slave finished serving and retired to stand still against the wall, Macro continued to examine him while he casually dipped a chunk of bread into the steaming bowl before him. It was tempting to ask the man what he thought of Ajax. And what he thought of the Romans and Greeks who were determined to defeat the rebel gladiator and his followers. If indeed he thought anything about them.

Macro paused. How could a slave not think about the revolt, when there was little other topic of conversation in the city? Could this slave, so taciturn, be harbouring deep hatred for his masters and a yearning to be part of the uprising? Might he be listening alertly to any conversation to which he was privy, and then wait for a chance to escape and reveal his information to Ajax? What if his plan was more treacherous still? It would not take much effort to procure sufficient poison to kill all three of those to whom he had just served their evening meal.

Macro glanced down at his stew with a look of suspicion. He lowered his bread, dripping with gravy from the stew, on to his platter and turned towards the slave.

'You there, step closer.'

The slave started forward nervously, eyes flickering round the Romans lying on their couches around the table. Sempronius glanced at his daughter and Julia raised a quizzical eyebrow.

Macro wiped the smears of gravy from his lips. 'Slave, you have heard the news about Prefect Marcellus's defeat, I take it.'

The slave nodded quickly.

'Do you take comfort from this news?'

'Master?'

'I asked you if you took comfort from the news. You're a slave. So what is your view of the rebels' victory? Do you rejoice at it?'

The slave glanced down and shook his head.

'Look at me,' Macro ordered, and the slave reluctantly raised his head enough to meet Macro's gaze. 'Surely you are on the side of those who would set you free? Well? Speak up, man.'

The slave's anxiety was clear as he struggled to make a reply.

Macro waited patiently, and at length the slave spoke. 'Master, I want freedom. So do many slaves. But I have savings and I plan to buy my freedom one day. It is the only way for me. Those slaves who join Ajax may have their freedom now, but I think they must live in dread of being returned to slavery. That is not freedom. When I eventually have my freedom, I shall want to be free from fear as I am free from slavery.' He paused, and looked round at his masters. 'I have made my choice. Those who follow the gladiator have made theirs.' He turned back to Macro. 'Is that all, master?'

Macro thought for a moment, then nodded. 'Leave us.'

The slave bowed his head and backed away from the table.

'He's lying,' Macro muttered.

'Well, what did you expect?' asked Sempronius. 'A frank admission that he sympathises with Ajax? It was unfair to put him on the spot like that.'

'Perhaps.' Macro pushed his plate away.

'I wonder how Cato is faring?' Julia intervened.' He must have reached Alexandria by now. What do you think, Father?'

Sempronius thought a moment and then nodded. 'I'd have thought so, provided all has gone well. Which I am sure it has,' he added hurriedly, before dipping his spoon into the stew, fishing out a piece of meat and popping it into his mouth. At once, his face contorted in agony. Macro jumped to his feet and stepped towards the senator, glancing at the slave as he did so.

'Sir! What's the matter? Are you all right?'

Sempronius held up a hand to stay Macro and nodded. He swallowed, then reached for his wine to quench the pain in his mouth.' Damn, that stew's hot!'

Macro let out a sigh of relief and returned to his couch.

Julia was looking at him curiously as she delicately blew across her spoon. 'What is up with you?'

'It's nothing. I just thought... Never mind.' Macro quickly changed the subject, with a forced smile. 'I'd be willing to bet that Cato is even now sitting at a fine banquet with the Legate of Egypt, busy talking him out of his entire garrison. You know what he's like.'

Julia smiled. Yes, he can be most persuasive.'