Roman Blood Read Free Page A

road to Pompeii. As for the family not having been in Rome for more than a generation, I assumed that from the very fact that the name Cicero is unfamiliar to me. Had they been here from the time I was young, I would surely have at least heard of them—and I wouldn't forget a name like that. As for Cicero's age and wealth and his interest in oratory and philosophy, all that is evident simply from observing you, Tiro."
    " M e ? "
    "A slave is the mirror of his master. Your unfamiliarity with the dangers of wine, your modesty with Bethesda, these indicate that you serve in a household where restraint and decorum are of utmost concern.
    Such a tone can only be set by the master himself. Cicero is clearly a man 11

    of rigorous morals. This can be indicative of purely Roman virtues, but your comment about moderation in all things indicates an appreciation of Greek virtue and Greek philosophy. There is also a great emphasis on rhetoric, grammar, and oratory in the house of Cicero. I doubt that you yourself have ever received a single formal lesson in these fields, but a slave can absorb much from regular exposure to the arts. It shows in your speech and manner, in the polished tones of your voice. Clearly, Cicero has studied long and hard in the schools of language.
    "All of which, taken together, can mean only one thing: that he wishes to be an advocate and present legal cases before the Rostra. I would have assumed so at any rate, from the very fact that you came to ask for my services. Most of my clients—at least the respectable ones—are either politicians or lawyers or both."
    Tiro nodded. "But you also knew that Cicero was young and just beginning in his career."
    " Y e s . Well, if he were an established advocate, I would have heard of him already. How many cases has he presented?"
    "Only one," Tiro acknowledged, "and nothing you would have heard about—a simple partnership case."
    "Which further confirms his youth and inexperience. As does the fact that he sent you at all. Would it be fair to say that you're Cicero's most trusted slave? His favorite servant?"
    "His personal secretary. I've been with him all my life."
    "Carried his books to classes, drilled him in grammar, prepared his notes for his first case before the Rostra?"
    "Exactly."
    "Then you are not the sort of slave that most advocates send when they wish to call upon Gordianus the Finder. Only a fledgling advocate, embarrassingly ignorant of common custom, would bother to send his right hand to my door. I'm flattered, even though I know the flattery is unintentional. To show my gratitude, I promise not to spread the word that Marcus Tullius Cicero made an ass of himself by sending his best slave to fetch that wretched Gordianus, explorer of dung heaps and infiltrator of hornet's nests. They'd get a bigger laugh out of that than they ever will out of Cicero's name."
    Tiro wrinkled his brow. The tip of my sandal caught on a willow root beside the stream. I stubbed my toe and stifled a curse.
    "You're right," Tiro said quietly, sounding very earnest. "He's quite 12

    young, just as I am. He doesn't yet know all these little tricks of the legal profession, the silly gestures and empty formalities. But he does know what he believes in, which is more than you can say for most advocates."
    I gazed down at my toe, surprised to see that it wasn't bleeding. There are gods in my garden, rustic and wild and unkempt like the garden itself.
    They had punished me for teasing a naive young slave. I deserved it.
    "Loyalty becomes you, Tiro. Just how old is your master?"
    "Cicero is twenty-six."
    " A n d y o u ? "
    "Twenty-three."
    "A bit older than I would have guessed, both of you. Then I'm not ten years older than you, Tiro, but only seven. Still, seven years can make a great difference," I said, contemplating the passion of young men out to change the world. A wave of nostalgia passed through me as gently as the faint breeze that rustled through the willow above our