‘Welcome to the Fourth Macedonia, gentlemen.’ He signalled to a legionary standing to attention nearby. ‘Take this young man to his new quarters in the Bronze Fist century. Send the boy to the stables until I can assign duties to him with the other camp children. Renius and I have a lot of catching up to do – and a lot of wine to drink while we do it.’
Alexandria sat in silence, polishing grime from an ancient sword in Marius’ little armoury. She was pleased he had been able to get back his town house. She’d heard the owner had rushed to make a gift of it to the new ruler of Rome. Much better than the thought of living with the rough soldiers in the city barracks – well, it would have been difficult at best. Gods knew, she wasn’t afraid of men; some of her earliest memories were of them with her mother in the next room. They came in reeking of beer and cheap wine and went out with a swagger. They never seemed to last very long. One of them had tried to touch her once and she remembered seeing her mother properly angry for the first time in her young life. She’d cracked his skull with a poker and together they’d dragged him into an alleyway and left him. For days, her mother had expected the door to burst in and men to take her away to be hanged, but no one had come.
She sighed as she worked at the layers of crusted oil on the bronze blade, relic of some old campaign. At first, Rome had seemed a city with limitless possibilities, but Marius had taken control three months before and here she was still working all day for nothing and every day a little older. Others were changing the world, but her life remained the same. Only at night, when she sat with ancient Bant in his little metalwork room, did she feel she was making any progress in her life. He had shown her the uses of his tools and guided her hands through the first clumsy steps. He didn’t speak much, but seemed to enjoy her company and she liked his silences and kind blue eyes. She had seen him first as he was shaping a brooch in the workshop and knew in that moment that it was something she could do. It was a skill worth learning, even for a slave.
She rubbed more vigorously. To be worth no more to a man than a horse, or even a good sword like the one she held! It wasn’t fair.
‘Alexandria!’ Carla’s voice, calling. For a moment, she was tempted to remain silent, but the woman had a tongue like a whip and her disapproval was feared by most of the female slaves.
‘Here,’ she called, putting the sword down and wiping her hands on a rag. There would be another task for her, another few hours of labour before sleep.
‘There you are, love. I need someone to run down to the market for me; would you do that?’
‘Yes!’ Alexandria stood up quickly. She had come to look forward to these rare errands over the previous few months. They were the only occasions when she was allowed to leave Marius’ house and on the last few she had been trusted on her own. After all, where could she run?
‘I have a list of things for you to buy for the house. You always seem to get the best price,’ Carla said as she passed a slate over.
Alexandria nodded. She enjoyed bargaining with the traders. It made her feel like a free woman. The first time she hadn’t been alone, but, even with a witness, Carla had been shocked at how much money the girl had saved the house. The traders had been charging over market value for years, knowing Marius had deep pockets. The older woman realised the girl had a talent and sent her out as much as possible, seeing also that she needed the little touches of freedom. Some never got used to the condition of slavery and were slowly broken down into depression and occasionally despair. Carla enjoyed watching Alexandria’s face light up at the thought of a trip out.
She guessed the girl was keeping a coin or two from what she was given, but what did that matter? She was saving them silvers, so if she kept the odd bronze, Carla didn’t begrudge them to her.
‘Go on with you. I want you back in two hours and not a minute later, understand?’
‘I do, Carla. Two hours. Thank you.’
The older woman grinned at her, remembering when she had been young and the world was such an exciting place. She knew all about Alexandria’s visits to Bant the metalworker. The old man had taken quite a liking to her, it seemed. There was very little in the house that Carla didn’t find out about sooner or later and she knew that in Alexandria’s room was a small bronze disc that she had decorated with a lion’s head using Bant’s tools. It was a pretty piece.
As she watched the trim figure vanish around a corner, Carla wondered if it was a present for Gaius. Bant had said the girl had a talent for the work. Aye, perhaps because she was making it for love.
The market was a riot of smells and swirling crowds, but Alexandria didn’t dawdle over the items on the list for once. She completed her business quickly, getting good prices, but leaving the discussion before they were pared right to the bone. The shopkeepers seemed to enjoy the arguments with the pretty girl, throwing their hands into the air and calling for witnesses to see what she was demanding. She smiled at them then, and for a few the smile dropped the price further than they could believe after she had left. Certainly more than their wives could believe.
With packages stowed safely in two cloth bags, Alexandria hurried on to her real destination, a tiny jewellery shop at the end of the stalls. She had been inside many times to look at the man’s designs. Most of the pieces were bronze or pewter. Silver was rarely worked in jewellery, and gold was too expensive unless particular pieces were commissioned. The metalsmith himself was a short man, dressed in a rough tunic and a heavy leather apron. He watched her as she came into the tiny shop and stopped work on a small gold ring to keep an eye on the girl. Tabbic was not a trusting man and Alexandria could feel his steady gaze on her as she looked over his wares.
Finally, she summoned enough courage to speak to him.
‘Do you buy items?’ she said.
‘Sometimes,’ came the reply. ‘What do you have?’
She produced the bronze disc from a pocket in her tunic and he took it from her hand, holding it up to the daylight to see the design. He held it for a long time and she didn’t dare speak for fear of angering him. Still he said nothing, just turned it over and over in his hands, examining every last mark on the metal.
‘Where did you get this?’ he asked at last.
‘I made it. Do you know Bant?’
The man nodded slowly.
‘He has been showing me how.’
‘This is crude, but I can sell it on. The execution is clumsy, but the design is very good. The lion’s face is very well scribed, it’s just that you aren’t very skilled with the hammer and awl.’ He turned it over again.
‘Tell me the truth now, you understand? Where did you get the bronze to make this?’
Alexandria looked at him nervously. He returned her stare without blinking, but his eyes seemed kind. Quickly she told him about her bargaining and how she had saved a few tiny coins from the house money, enough to purchase the bare metal circle from a stall of trinkets.
Tabbic shook his head. ‘I can’t take it then. It isn’t yours to sell. The coins belonged to Marius, so the bronze is his as well. You should give it to him.’
Alexandria felt tears threaten to start. She had spent so long on the little piece and now it had all come to nothing. She watched, almost hypnotised, as he turned it over in his grasp. Then he pressed it back into her hands.
Miserable, she put the disc back in her pocket.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
He turned back to her. ‘My name is Tabbic. You don’t know me, but I have a reputation for honesty and sometimes for pride.’ He held up another