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So you're interested in my story? I warn you, it's quite a wild ride, but since you asked *smiles*...let me begin at the very start.
Before you ask, no, I wasn't born a slave like so many of the 'Greeks' you find in the households of wealthy Romans. I was actually born in Korinth, though I remember practically nothing about my life and family there. You see, I couldn't have been more than six or seven years old when my father sold me to a passing Roman slave-trader for less than the price of a good horse. My first master didn't keep me long - well, to be honest, none of my masters kept me very long, even after I was of an age to be... useful to them.
And so I changed hands several times. By now I had grown into quite a beauty, which ensured I was generally treated better than most household slaves, and Latin was the least of the useful talents I learnt to ensure favours from my masters. Some of them were more indulgent than others - one of them even took me with him to Alexandria, but it was there a small troublesome matter occurred that led to me once again enduring the degradation of standing naked on an auction block while some man with a whip slyly pointed out to potential buyers my feigned docility and undeniable beauty.
This time I was bought by a Roman gentleman named M. Aemilius Felix, a retired veteran of the Judaea campaign now living in retirement in Sicilia. I was taken to his latifundium at Syracusa and installed in his household with the official role of his personal steward, but everyone knew what that was a euphemism for. I wasn't complaining - in fact, I suppose I grew rather fond of him, though his friends and family said he doted on me too much and I was spoiled and pampered. I was with Aemilius Felix for maybe a year before he was abruptly carried off by a fever, and I suddenly became the property of his younger brother, along with the rest of the household effects.
C. Aemilius Pertinax was not as indulgent as his brother, and neither approved of nor shared in his tastes in the bedroom. Within days of Aemilius Felix’s death, he had accepted a substantial price from a local brothel-owner for me. I pleaded, wept, even promised good behaviour! Nothing softened his hard heart however, and in desperation I fled the latifundium barely hours before my new owner’s men came to collect me.
My pampered life had ill-prepared me for self-survival and I was terrified of pursuit and capture, knowing all too well the harsh punishments meted out to runaway slaves. I decided to try and reach Pompeii, a place of which I knew nothing practical, but did vaguely recall Aemilius Felix fondly reminiscing about. Maybe there I could gain the favour and protection of a wealthy patron? So I managed to beg passage on a ship for the mainland, and five days after leaving Sicilia, I found myself stranded at the gates of Green Acres with a lame horse, and the next chapter of my life began. |
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Current Amount in My Cashbox:
7,225 strti.
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