Blood of a Barbarian Read Free Page A

matter.
    The only way I had been able to understand any of this transaction was because over a life-time of haggling at markets, where I went to buy Roman goods, and then there in the mines, I had had to pick up many latin words, and though I was far from fluent, I tried to learn at least one or two new words every day.
    By the next morning, I was laoded with half-a-dozen other men onto a slave-cart, and we headed out on our long over-land journey towards the great capital city of Rome. I, of course, had never been anywhere near the place before, but had naturally heard many tales of it. Nothing prepared me though, for when, three weeks later, I looked through the small view-slats in the wagon, and out onto a world that I could barely believe. The first thing I noticed was the noise. Everywhere was the noise of thousands of people, all yelling and jostling and laughing. And then there was the smell: A terrible aroma hung in the air, the smell of animals, and sweat, and dung, and any number of rotting things. The buildings though were amazing, they seemed to be made of white stone, and they soared high into the air, as high as the birds. Even in the Roman settlements in Germania there was nothing to match these gigantic buildings, and these columns, and shining white temples.
    After this, our cart stopped, and we were all herded out the back, through a courtyard, and then down into a long dark corridor, where we were each locked into individual cells. Almost immediately, I lay my sore body down on the cool stone floor and fell asleep. After having awakened, I felt grateful to be there, for as uncomfortable as all this was, it was not half so bad as the mines, and I at least I had a chance of surviving -for a little while longer anyway. I had no idea what they intented to do next, but was not frightened, as my new masters would never have taken all the time and expense to bring me all this way just to kill me.
    Suddenly, a Roman guard appeared, and told me to stand up. I obeyed at once, and waited for a moment until two slaves, one man and one woman, came and stood before my cell. The guard got out his keys and opened the door, then ordered me to step out. Once in the corridor I was bidden to follow the slaves, and they led myself and several of the other men down several twists and turns, until we entered a large narrow room that looked out over a small courtyard. There were what looked to be a dozen or so large wooden tubs that had been filled with water. One of the chief slaves, a medium-size balding man, came over and told us to drop our loinclothes. The cloth I wore was filthy, and I was glad to be rid of it. He then told us to get into the baths, one man per tub. I climbed into the waist-deep warm water, and felt the pleasantness of it.
    Back home, we always washed in cold water at a stream, using butter or bear fat as soap, but I had not even had a bath like that in over two months, and had never had one like this. I could no longer smell myself, but imagined I must be pretty rank. The slaves did a good job of seeming not to notice though, especially the women, and two of them came behind the tub and begin rubbing down my body in some sort of oil. They asked me to kneel in the water. I did, and it felt wonderful. The dirt came off of me and almost created a cloud around me. I even dunked my head fully underwater, and left it there for as long as I could, enjoying the sensation. When I came up, one of the women took hold of my hair, while the other used a pair of shears to cut my long strands off. It had not always been this long, but had become so as I had not sheared it for some time. Next, they rubbed more oil onto my face and used a sharp blade to cut all the hair off. After they were done, they rubbed more oil on to sooth the cuts, and then I dunked my head under the water again.
    When this was all complete, I was dried off and taken down a different corridor this time, then was shown into a different cell, this time