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第20章

annr.pandora-第20章

小说: annr.pandora 字数: 每页4000字

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 I headed straight for the slave markets。
 Jacob was right about the population here。 The city was filled with men and women of all nations。 Many women walked in pairs; arm in arm。
 Loose Greek cloaks were entirely acceptable here; and so were long exotic Phoenician or Babylonian gowns; both for men and women。 Long hair among the men was mon; as were heavy beards。 Some women went about in tunics no longer than a man's。 Others were pletely veiled; revealing only the eyes; as they walked; acpanied by guards and servants。
 The streets were cleaner than they might have been in Rome; the sewage flowing to wider gutters in the center and more swiftly to its destination。
 Long before I reached the Forum; or the central plaza; I had passed three different doors in which rich courtesans stood arguing sarcastically over price with wealthy young Greeks and Romans。
 One said; as I passed; to a handsome young man; 〃You want me in bed'? You're dreaming。 Any of the girls you can have; as I told you。 If you want me; go home and sell everything you own!〃
 Rich Romans in their full togas stood at the corner wine shops; and respected my quick glance away with a simple nod as I passed。
 Pray none of them would recognize me! It was not a likely thing; by any means; and we were so far from Rome; and I had lived so long in my Father's house; happily reprieved by him from banquets and suppers; and even ceremonial gatherings。
 The Forum was far larger than I had remembered from my brief glimpse。 When I came to the edge of it and beheld the huge square flooded with sun; flanked on all sides with porticoes or Temples or Imperial buildings; I was amazed。
 In the canopied markets; everything was for sale; silversmiths grouped together; the weavers in their own place; the silk merchants in a row; and I could see down the side street that came in to my right that it was dedicated to the sale of slaves … the better slaves; who might never have to go to an auction block。
 Far away I saw the high masts of the ships。 I could smell the river。 There stood the Temple of Augustus; its fires burning; its uniformed Legionnaires in lazy readiness。
 I was hot and anxious; because my mantle kept slipping; in fact; all this silk seemed to slip and to slide; and there were many open wine gardens where women gathered in groups; chatting。 I could have found a place near enough to someone to have a drink。
 But I had to have a household。 I had to have loyal slaves。
 Now; in Rome; of course I had never gone to a slave market。 I would never have had to do such a thing。 Besides; we had so many families of slaves on our land in Tuscany and in Rome that we seldom if ever bought a new slave。 On the contrary; my Father had a habit of inheriting the decrepit and wise from his friends; and we had often teased my Father about the Academy; which did nothing in the slaves' garden but argue about history。
 But now I had to act the shrewd woman of the world。 I inspected every quality household slave on display; quickly settled upon a pair of sisters; very young and very frightened that they were going to be auctioned at noon and go to a brothel。 I sent for stools and we sat together。
 We talked。
 They came from a small fine family household in Tyre; they'd been born slaves。 They knew Greek and Latin well。 They spoke Aramaic。 They were angelic in their sweetness。
 They had immaculate hands。 They demonstrated every skill I required。 They knew how to dress hair; paint a face; cook food。 They rattled off recipes for Eastern dishes of which I'd never heard; they named different pomades; rouges。 One of them flushed with fear; and then said; 〃Madam; I can paint your face for you; and very quickly and perfectly!〃
 I knew this meant I had made a mess of the job。
 I also knew that; ing from a small household; they were far more versatile than our slaves at home。
 I bought them both; the answer to their prayers; I demanded clean tunics of modest length for both of them; got the tunics; made of blue linen; though they weren't very fine; then found a roaming merchant with an armful of pallae。 I brought。 each sister a blue mantle。 They were in such happiness。 They were reticent and wanted their heads covered。
 I had no doubt of them。 They would have died for me。
 It didn't occur to me that they were starving until; while searching for other slaves; I heard a nasty slave dealer remind an impudent educated Greek that he would get no food until he was sold。
 〃Horrors;〃 I said。 〃You girls; you're probably hungry。 Go to the cookshop in the Forum。 Look down the street。 See there; the scattering of benches and tables。〃
 'Mone?〃 they said in dismay。
 〃Listen; girls。 I have no time to feed you like birds from my hand。 Don't look any man in the eye; eat and drink what you want。〃 I gave them a seemingly shocking amount of money。 〃And don't leave the cookshop till I e for you。 If a man es to you; pretend to be in terror; bow your heads and protest as best you can that you don't speak his language。 If worst es to worst; go to the Temple of Isis。〃
 They ran together down the narrow street towards the distant banquet; their mantles such a beautiful blue as they ballooned in the breeze that I can see it even now; the color of the sky streaking through the tight sweaty crowds beneath the jumble of canopies。 Mia and Lia。 Not hard to remember; but I could not tell them apart。
 A low derisive laughter surprised me。 It was the Greek slave who had just been threatened with starvation by his Master。
 He said to his Master:
 'M right; starve me。 And then what will you have to sell'? A sickened and dying man; instead of an unusual and great scholar。〃
 Unusual and great scholar!
 I turned and looked at the man。 He sat on a stool and did not rise for me。 He wore nothing but a filthy loincloth; which was plain stupidity on the part of the merchant; but this neglect certainly revealed that this slave was one very handsome man; beautiful in face; with soft brown hair and long almond…shaped green eyes; and a sarcastic expression to his pretty mouth。 He was maybe thirty years old; perhaps a little younger。 He was fit for his age; as Greeks like to be; having a sound musculature。
 His brown hair was filthy; had been hacked off and around his neck by a rope was the most wretched small board I ever beheld; crowded with tiny cramped letters in Latin。
 Pulling up the mantle again; I stepped up very close to his gorgeous naked chest; a little amused by his audacious stare; and tried to read all this。
 It seemed he could have taught all philosophy; all languages; all mathematics; could sing everything; knew every poet; could prepare whole banquets; was patient with children; had known military service with his Roman Master in the Balkans; could perform as an armed guard; was obedient and virtuous and had lived all his life in Athens in one house。
 I read this a bit scornfully。 He glared at me impertinently when he saw this scorn。 Impudently; he folded his arms just below this little plaque。 He leaned back against the wall。
 Suddenly I saw why the merchant; hovering near; had not made the Greek rise。 The Greek had only one good leg。 The left leg below the knee was made of well…carved ivory; plete with carefully engraved foot and sandal。 Perfect toes。 Of course it had been pieced together; this fine ivory leg and foot; but in three proportionate sections; each girded with decorative work; and separate parts for the feet; nails defined and sandal straps exquisitely carved。
 I had never seen such a false limb; such a surrender to artifice rather than a meager attempt to imitate nature。
 〃How did you lose your leg?〃 I asked him in Greek。 No answer。 I pointed to the leg。 No answer。
 I asked again in Latin。 Still no answer。
 The slave trader was rising on his toes in his anxiety and wringing his hands。
 〃Mistress; he can keep records; run any business; he writes in perfect hand; keeps honest numbers。〃
 Hmmm。 So no mention of tutoring children? I did not look like a wife and mother。 Not good。
 The Greek sneered and looked away。 He said softly under his breath in piercing Latin that if I did spend money for him; I was spending it for a dead man。 His voice was soft and beau

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