Fic: The Dead Can Live (part 14 of 14)
“What reason is there for me to go with you?” Esca argued as he pulled more weeds out from between the recently sprouted shoots of wheat. “I have no wish to be served by slaves.”
“I understand that,” Marcus said, standing beside him, “but Manlius’s slaves are well cared for, I promise you, better even than some men treat their own families.”
“They are still slaves.”
“Neighbourliness then,” Marcus tried. “You have had little to do with Manlius since we came here and yet he always invites you to his dinner parties.”
“A triumph of persistence over common sense.”
“A triumph of good manners over bad I should say, especially after he loaned you two freedmen for the farm and his fastest horse when you wanted to follow me to Calleva. You are always so rude about him, calling him a fool when he is in fact as kind and generous a man as you could ever wish to meet. And you call Lucilia plain and sensible as if those were faults she should be shunned for!”
Turning to look up, Esca shot Marcus a scowl at the mention of Lucilia’s name and then carried on with his weeding, trying to think of additional reasons to support his reluctance to socialize with their neighbours. He supposed that maybe he had been a little harsh on them for Manlius had indeed always been welcoming and generous and Lucilia had, thankfully, been rational enough to turn down Marcus’s proposal.
Esca shuddered at the thought but admitted to himself that he owed her his thanks.
“They are your people Marcus, not mine,” he said. “I have no wish to sit around eating and drinking until I cannot move and discussing boring topics with a bunch of Romans who call themselves farmers!”
“Do you include me in that particular observation?” Marcus asked, chuckling. “It was you who decided we should buy a farm and thus made me a farmer.”
“And your fault entirely for allowing me to make that decision. There is no point in you complaining now.”
“Mea culpa,” Marcus replied. “I do think that you would enjoy the occasion more than you anticipate though for Manlius is not a man to expect excessive formality at his parties. He would be more than happy to hear your views on any subject, freedman or not.”
“And what of the other guests?”
“They are always small gatherings and there would be nobody there whose acquaintance you have not already made once or twice. Popillius Laenas and his wife Tullia are attending. She is a Briton, as you know, and a freedwoman. Also Atius Varus and his brother will be there, although not their wives for they never attend.”
“Wise women,” Esca grumbled.
He stood, slowly stretching his aching body after having been crouched in the same position for so long and he was immensely pleased to feel Marcus’s hands start to knead the protesting muscles in his back.
“Mmmm,” he hummed contentedly, leaning back against the strong, solid body behind him. “That is most welcome. Your skills are improving.”
“I am always eager to improve them more.”
The feel of Marcus’s cold lips on the back of his neck took Esca by surprise and he smiled as small bursts of pleasure began to chase away the discomfort.
“Do you seek to seduce me into accompanying you?” he asked.
“Is it working?”
Displays of affection in the middle of the day? In the open air? Marcus must indeed greatly desire his company at this dinner party. Esca kept his face turned away so Marcus could not see his grin for he was enjoying this game and was interested to know where it would lead.
“I am not so easily swayed,” he replied eventually, trying to keep his voice stern and uninterested but Marcus knew where he was vulnerable, mouthing at his sensitive ears and Esca heard himself groan as he shuddered involuntarily. “I am willing to let you continue to try however.”
“The wheat will not mind if we take a little time off from removing the weeds,” Marcus murmured, warm breath gusting over Esca’s ear, the sensation making him squirm. “Come, let us go back to the house and discuss your attendance at the dinner party further.”
Esca frowned in disappointment despite the fact that he could feel himself growing hard in his braccae. “No, here,” he pouted. “Persuade me here, in the open.”
Marcus hesitated for only a moment before his hands stopped rubbing Esca’s back and took hold of the hem of his tunic, lifting it so he could stroke the bare skin underneath. “It would be my pleasure,” he growled, his hands deliciously rough against Esca’s abdomen. “I have often wondered what it would be like to indulge ourselves outdoors.”
“You should have told me for I would have been only too happy to show you.” Esca’s disappointment was quickly replaced again by delight and he turned in Marcus’s arms, sucking that full bottom lip into his mouth then kissing along his stubbled jaw and under his chin, teeth scraping over the thick scar there. “We had best move away to one of the pastures though,” he mumbled against Marcus’s throat, “lest we crush the shoots if we fall over. We can ill afford to lose any of our crops unnecessarily.”
Eagerly they clambered over the low, stone wall into the nearest pasture. Esca brushed most of the dirt from his hands and unbuckled the belt at Marcus’s waist, quickly divesting him of his tunic and then stopping to admire the sight before him - the broad chest, the smoothly undulating muscles and the large swelling that tented the front of his braccae. He licked his lips as Marcus looked around nervously.
“There is nobody to see us,” Esca assured him softly, roughly tweaking one of Marcus’s nipples to get his attention, “unless you are concerned about distressing the horses.” He bent his head and bit at the already abused nipple, eliciting a happy moan from Marcus who grinned at him shyly and allowed himself to be pulled down onto the grass. “When I am finished with you, you will be eager to interrupt our work for this every day.”
“I am already beginning to see what I have been missing.”
Esca chuckled, imagining long summer days working in the fields punctuated by breaks for indulging in more pleasant entertainments. “It will be even better in the summer when the sun warms our naked skin,” he said.
“Hmmm, it is perhaps a little chilly today.”
Hurriedly Esca threw off his own tunic and unlaced his braccae, stroking himself a few times before freeing the rigid length of Marcus’s cock and grasping it firmly.
“Then I had best warm you up,” he purred, ready to demonstrate the joys of an outdoor tumble but once again he was taken by surprise as Marcus batted his hand away and rolled him onto his back, pinning his arms above his head.
“Not so fast,” Marcus growled, straddling him and squeezing tightly as Esca tried to free his wrists. “Will you come with me to Manlius’s dinner party?”
“No.” Esca grinned and wriggled but Marcus held firm and ground viciously against his groin, making him groan loudly. “Perhaps then,” he bit out as his back arched up off the grass but the more he struggled, the tighter Marcus held him down until, happy to agree to absolutely anything, he wailed “Yes, yes, oh by the gods Marcus, yes!”
Marcus did not answer but he made a rumbling noise deep in his throat and leaned down, kissing Esca hard, their teeth clashing as finally Esca freed himself. Legs entangled and arms grappling for purchase they toppled onto their sides, fumbling for each other’s cocks and continuing to kiss greedily as they stroked each other towards completion in the grass, their moans floating up into the air to mingle with birdsong.
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“Ah, Esca! Welcome, welcome.” Manlius greeted Esca in the atrium of his villa with the gusto of a man greeting a long-lost relative then he turned to Marcus with a look of pure delight on his chubby face. “At last, Aquila, you have induced this fine fellow to accompany you. How did you manage it? Wine, you must have wine!” he declared loudly. “Now, you do know all the others don’t you? Of course you do, how foolish of me.” Manlius beamed at all his guests. “Welcome friends,” he said, his arms outstretched. “Welcome one and all.”
Esca smiled politely but he stayed closer than necessary to Marcus’s side and Marcus wished nothing more than to be able to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.
“My apologies for not visiting sooner,” he said, hoping to occupy their host’s attention and quell Esca’s unease at being singled out, “but there has been much to do on the farm.”
“Yes, of that I have no doubt,” Manlius agreed fervently. “Are the two of you managing well enough? I am always happy to lend you some men to help, you need only ask. It is unfortunate that your other freedman has been gone these past few weeks but I understand fully your decision to let him go. I’ve seen many of them on their way myself, as you know. I would have been glad to meet him but it was not to be for by the time I was up and about, he had already come and gone.”
“Yes, your illness,” Marcus said as he wondered idly what Trenus would have thought of an occasion such as this. “I am glad to see you fully recovered.”
“Oh, it was nothing I tell you, nothing. Lucilia, the darling girl, does like to fuss over her old papa. Confined to my bed like a prisoner I was! In the beginning I suspected there were things afoot in the house that she wished to keep me from.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Surely not.”
He turned his head slightly, catching Lucilia’s eye and she smiled at him warmly.
“And then, once she stopped fussing so much I really did begin to feel quite unwell so she was right all along,” Manlius continued, oblivious. “The perils of advancing in years, don’t you think? Ah, now here is Laenas and his most delightful lady. I am beyond ecstatic that you could all attend this evening, it has been far too long.” He clapped his hands. “Oh Lucilia, my sweet, are we ready to dine?”
He scurried away leaving Marcus and Esca to greet Popillius Laenas, a rather short, bearded man and his much taller, much younger wife.
“Will you regale us with your tale of heroism and peril again?” Laenas asked. “I swear I never tire of hearing it.”
“Perhaps we could hear from Esca,” the statuesque Tullia proposed. She had been Laenas’s slave until he freed her and married her and as the only other native Briton guest, she no doubt wished to hear Esca’s version of events.
“If he wishes to tell,” said Marcus as Esca slid him a look that said he had no intention of providing any sort of entertainment. “I am loathe to make promises on his behalf.”
Manlius returned with Atius Varus and his brother Publius in tow and began rambling on about crops and cattle and the recent weather. Esca rolled his eyes but he smiled and followed Marcus into the triclinium, reclining a little awkwardly on the couch next to him when they were allocated their positions.
“Must we eat like this?” he asked, quietly so none of the other guests would hear. “It is most uncomfortable.”
“Manlius is our host and if he wishes his guests to recline for dinner then we recline. Surely you can manage.”
“One more thing I will never understand about Romans.”
“If all you are going to do is complain then I shall soon regret persuading you to come.”
Esca leaned across and whispered into Marcus’s ear. “You enjoyed persuading me.”
“That I did,” Marcus agreed, hiding his smile behind his cup of wine as a flush of heat spread through him at the reminder of what they had done in the pasture earlier that day.
Wine flowed while the guests ate at their leisure and the food was excellent as always with assorted dishes of fish and venison and vegetables followed by sweet pastries and fruits, many heartfelt compliments being bestowed upon Manlius and his cook. Esca did not say much throughout the dinner but he appeared quite content to listen to the conversation and despite having denied any wish to eat and drink until he could no longer move, he filled plate after plate with food from the table and drank copious quantities of watered wine although he insisted on taking the pitcher of wine from the serving slave and filling his own cup.
“This is good,” he told Marcus. “Now I know why you are always so eager to come here.”
“That is not the only reason,” Marcus protested. “I come also for the company and to foster good relations with our neighbours. We will benefit from mutual assistance and if times are hard, we may rely upon their goodwill.”
“May we also rely on their wine?”
“Yes, that too,” Marcus admitted with a wry smile, savouring the last mouthful from his cup. “I would like to speak more privately with Lucilia for I have not had much opportunity yet this evening. Will you be alright for a while?” With the food courses finished and some of the guests leaving their couches to stretch their legs, this would be his best chance to talk to her away from the general conversation. Indeed, he had not seen her since the fateful day he attempted his clumsy proposal but he held her in high regard still, considering her a good and loyal friend. “I will not be long.”
“As long as you don’t ask her to marry you again,” Esca whispered, not quite as quietly as he should have, but he was not annoyed and Marcus ignored the comment, attributing it to Esca’s tongue merely being loosened by the effects of far more wine than he was used to.
Leaving him quite happily sipping from his cup and listening to Varus and his brother bicker as siblings were wont to do, Marcus accompanied Lucilia and Tullia to the peristylium where they sauntered around the plants and exchanged pleasantries, the air thick with the scent of Manlius’s prized imported roses.
“I am glad that you are here this evening,” Lucilia said to him when finally Tullia lagged behind to admire the flowers, “and that you seem much more at peace than when I saw you last.”
“Thanks in part to you for standing up to my nonsensical notions.”
She wore a plain gown of pale green linen, free of jewellery and other adornments, her hair styled without undue fuss and Marcus wondered whether in another life they would have made a compatible couple, lacking passion perhaps but nevertheless content.
“And what of your unsuitable match?” Lucilia asked, startling him out of his musings. “Did you take my advice?”
“All is well,” Marcus confided, feeling suddenly shy and bowing his head to avoid her eyes. “I am forgiven.”
“Good,” she laughed, patting his arm. “I hope you will find happiness together.”
Whether she knew it was Esca or not, she did not say but Marcus was sure she was too discreet to ever ask outright or question the lack of any woman in his life. She understood what it was to be a Roman who wished to follow a different path than the one expected of them - free in name but yet restricted by law and convention. She understood and therefore would not judge, and that was enough.
“But what of you?” Marcus asked. “I feel obliged to help find you a worthy husband but sadly I know of nobody unless you harbour a secret wish to marry my uncle.”
They both laughed at that and when she had regained her composure, Lucilia politely declined the offer.
“I did however have a mind to ask father’s permission to visit my elder sister in Londinium,” she told him. “Manlia is with child again and although she has no need of help for she married well and wants for nothing, I thought to offer her some assistance. When I last received word from her she told me that her husband has a few acquaintances who may be suitable and also a most pleasant cousin who is newly arrived on these shores and who hopes to set up as a farmer.”
“Does she know that you wish to marry for love?”
“She does.”
“Then I will ask the gods to look favourably upon you,” Marcus said, “and bring you everything you seek.”
“You are a true friend.”
“As you deserve.”
“If I go, will you watch over father for me?” Lucilia asked. “He has all the help that he needs for the farm and he will be well looked after if I am away for a while but it would comfort me to know that you were on hand to oversee.”
“It would be my honour.”
“Thank you, dear Marcus. Now, you are in need of more wine and I believe that Esca needs rescuing. He looks dreadfully bored.”
Esca, once rescued, was glassy-eyed but whether from boredom, too much wine or both Marcus was unsure. They settled back onto their couches and when both Marcus and Esca declined to repeat the story of the eagle standard, the assembled guests listened instead to Manlius recount various stories of his soldiering days.
“Are you betrothed then?” Esca asked, spluttering into his cup, evidently amused and wishing to torment Marcus with his previous lapse of character.
“No,” Marcus replied in all seriousness, “and neither is my uncle.”
Esca’s amusement vanished and he frowned, bemused at the cryptic response. Unable to understand after much consideration, he decided to turn his attention back to Manlius’s booming voice. “I cannot imagine him getting up to so much mischief!” he whispered hoarsely into Marcus’s ear. “I suspect he has made up these tales.”
“The stories never change no matter how many times he tells them so there is every chance that they are true,” Marcus replied, draining his cup and immediately refilling it, admiring the deep red hue of the wine as Manlius droned on in the background. “One day, we will plant vines and make our own wine.”
Esca nodded his head vigorously in agreement. “And that is one idea of yours where you shall hear no complaint from me.”
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It was dark when they drunkenly stumbled home together, a borrowed lantern lighting their way.
“I must bow to your better judgement,” Esca slurred, bounding ahead of Marcus and turning back to make an elaborate bow. “I did indeed enjoy myself this evening and I take back everything disparaging I ever said about Manlius and the lovely Lucilia.”
“I told you,” Marcus said, grinning as Esca finished his bow and settled back into step beside him.
“You did and you were right.”
“So will you be joining us for Manlius’s next dinner party?”
“That is not a given for it still does not sit well with me to be served by slaves, happy or not. I reserve the right to choose for myself if I ever attend in the future.”
“Well said, Esca. Well said.”
They continued on in silence and Marcus suddenly realised that he was alone for Esca had stopped and was staring up into the darkness, swaying slightly.
“Has the wine made you ill?” he asked. “You did drink rather a lot.”
“No,” Esca said. “I was wondering if the sky looks the same where Trenus is.”
“He is probably watching the heavens somewhere far from here and wondering the same thing about you.” Marcus retraced his steps to stand beside him, joining him in looking up at the night sky which was peppered with stars, the moon pale and bright but only half full. “Never fear Esca, he will find a place to call home,” he said softly, “and he will find someone to call his own.”
“We were inseparable as children then, as we grew older, I thought I would never love anyone as much as him. I was wrong.” Esca met Marcus’s gaze, smiling. “I chose well when I chose you.”
Marcus reached out and briefly stroked a hand over Esca’s hair then laid an arm over his shoulders, hugging him close. An arm slid across his back in response and they supported each other as they lurched onwards, the lantern in Esca’s free hand casting erratic beams of light ahead of them until he swung it with too much force and dropped it. The flame immediately extinguished and after much laughter and several curses they left the lantern lying where it was, to be retrieved later, walking the remainder of the way with only the light of the moon to guide them. Soon the gateway that led to their farm finally loomed into view and Marcus was reminded of the times before when he had staggered home, drunk and weary, to find Esca waiting for him there. He admitted to himself that it was much better to have Esca by his side instead of waiting and as they passed through the gate to make their way up the path, his thoughts turned to how he had so nearly lost Esca through his own foolishness and how happy he was to have been given a second chance with this feisty, stubborn Briton he loved so dearly.
In one quick move, Marcus grabbed a squealing Esca’s waist, slung him over one shoulder with an ease that belied his own intoxicated state and carried him over the threshold into their house.
“I understand that,” Marcus said, standing beside him, “but Manlius’s slaves are well cared for, I promise you, better even than some men treat their own families.”
“They are still slaves.”
“Neighbourliness then,” Marcus tried. “You have had little to do with Manlius since we came here and yet he always invites you to his dinner parties.”
“A triumph of persistence over common sense.”
“A triumph of good manners over bad I should say, especially after he loaned you two freedmen for the farm and his fastest horse when you wanted to follow me to Calleva. You are always so rude about him, calling him a fool when he is in fact as kind and generous a man as you could ever wish to meet. And you call Lucilia plain and sensible as if those were faults she should be shunned for!”
Turning to look up, Esca shot Marcus a scowl at the mention of Lucilia’s name and then carried on with his weeding, trying to think of additional reasons to support his reluctance to socialize with their neighbours. He supposed that maybe he had been a little harsh on them for Manlius had indeed always been welcoming and generous and Lucilia had, thankfully, been rational enough to turn down Marcus’s proposal.
Esca shuddered at the thought but admitted to himself that he owed her his thanks.
“They are your people Marcus, not mine,” he said. “I have no wish to sit around eating and drinking until I cannot move and discussing boring topics with a bunch of Romans who call themselves farmers!”
“Do you include me in that particular observation?” Marcus asked, chuckling. “It was you who decided we should buy a farm and thus made me a farmer.”
“And your fault entirely for allowing me to make that decision. There is no point in you complaining now.”
“Mea culpa,” Marcus replied. “I do think that you would enjoy the occasion more than you anticipate though for Manlius is not a man to expect excessive formality at his parties. He would be more than happy to hear your views on any subject, freedman or not.”
“And what of the other guests?”
“They are always small gatherings and there would be nobody there whose acquaintance you have not already made once or twice. Popillius Laenas and his wife Tullia are attending. She is a Briton, as you know, and a freedwoman. Also Atius Varus and his brother will be there, although not their wives for they never attend.”
“Wise women,” Esca grumbled.
He stood, slowly stretching his aching body after having been crouched in the same position for so long and he was immensely pleased to feel Marcus’s hands start to knead the protesting muscles in his back.
“Mmmm,” he hummed contentedly, leaning back against the strong, solid body behind him. “That is most welcome. Your skills are improving.”
“I am always eager to improve them more.”
The feel of Marcus’s cold lips on the back of his neck took Esca by surprise and he smiled as small bursts of pleasure began to chase away the discomfort.
“Do you seek to seduce me into accompanying you?” he asked.
“Is it working?”
Displays of affection in the middle of the day? In the open air? Marcus must indeed greatly desire his company at this dinner party. Esca kept his face turned away so Marcus could not see his grin for he was enjoying this game and was interested to know where it would lead.
“I am not so easily swayed,” he replied eventually, trying to keep his voice stern and uninterested but Marcus knew where he was vulnerable, mouthing at his sensitive ears and Esca heard himself groan as he shuddered involuntarily. “I am willing to let you continue to try however.”
“The wheat will not mind if we take a little time off from removing the weeds,” Marcus murmured, warm breath gusting over Esca’s ear, the sensation making him squirm. “Come, let us go back to the house and discuss your attendance at the dinner party further.”
Esca frowned in disappointment despite the fact that he could feel himself growing hard in his braccae. “No, here,” he pouted. “Persuade me here, in the open.”
Marcus hesitated for only a moment before his hands stopped rubbing Esca’s back and took hold of the hem of his tunic, lifting it so he could stroke the bare skin underneath. “It would be my pleasure,” he growled, his hands deliciously rough against Esca’s abdomen. “I have often wondered what it would be like to indulge ourselves outdoors.”
“You should have told me for I would have been only too happy to show you.” Esca’s disappointment was quickly replaced again by delight and he turned in Marcus’s arms, sucking that full bottom lip into his mouth then kissing along his stubbled jaw and under his chin, teeth scraping over the thick scar there. “We had best move away to one of the pastures though,” he mumbled against Marcus’s throat, “lest we crush the shoots if we fall over. We can ill afford to lose any of our crops unnecessarily.”
Eagerly they clambered over the low, stone wall into the nearest pasture. Esca brushed most of the dirt from his hands and unbuckled the belt at Marcus’s waist, quickly divesting him of his tunic and then stopping to admire the sight before him - the broad chest, the smoothly undulating muscles and the large swelling that tented the front of his braccae. He licked his lips as Marcus looked around nervously.
“There is nobody to see us,” Esca assured him softly, roughly tweaking one of Marcus’s nipples to get his attention, “unless you are concerned about distressing the horses.” He bent his head and bit at the already abused nipple, eliciting a happy moan from Marcus who grinned at him shyly and allowed himself to be pulled down onto the grass. “When I am finished with you, you will be eager to interrupt our work for this every day.”
“I am already beginning to see what I have been missing.”
Esca chuckled, imagining long summer days working in the fields punctuated by breaks for indulging in more pleasant entertainments. “It will be even better in the summer when the sun warms our naked skin,” he said.
“Hmmm, it is perhaps a little chilly today.”
Hurriedly Esca threw off his own tunic and unlaced his braccae, stroking himself a few times before freeing the rigid length of Marcus’s cock and grasping it firmly.
“Then I had best warm you up,” he purred, ready to demonstrate the joys of an outdoor tumble but once again he was taken by surprise as Marcus batted his hand away and rolled him onto his back, pinning his arms above his head.
“Not so fast,” Marcus growled, straddling him and squeezing tightly as Esca tried to free his wrists. “Will you come with me to Manlius’s dinner party?”
“No.” Esca grinned and wriggled but Marcus held firm and ground viciously against his groin, making him groan loudly. “Perhaps then,” he bit out as his back arched up off the grass but the more he struggled, the tighter Marcus held him down until, happy to agree to absolutely anything, he wailed “Yes, yes, oh by the gods Marcus, yes!”
Marcus did not answer but he made a rumbling noise deep in his throat and leaned down, kissing Esca hard, their teeth clashing as finally Esca freed himself. Legs entangled and arms grappling for purchase they toppled onto their sides, fumbling for each other’s cocks and continuing to kiss greedily as they stroked each other towards completion in the grass, their moans floating up into the air to mingle with birdsong.
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“Ah, Esca! Welcome, welcome.” Manlius greeted Esca in the atrium of his villa with the gusto of a man greeting a long-lost relative then he turned to Marcus with a look of pure delight on his chubby face. “At last, Aquila, you have induced this fine fellow to accompany you. How did you manage it? Wine, you must have wine!” he declared loudly. “Now, you do know all the others don’t you? Of course you do, how foolish of me.” Manlius beamed at all his guests. “Welcome friends,” he said, his arms outstretched. “Welcome one and all.”
Esca smiled politely but he stayed closer than necessary to Marcus’s side and Marcus wished nothing more than to be able to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.
“My apologies for not visiting sooner,” he said, hoping to occupy their host’s attention and quell Esca’s unease at being singled out, “but there has been much to do on the farm.”
“Yes, of that I have no doubt,” Manlius agreed fervently. “Are the two of you managing well enough? I am always happy to lend you some men to help, you need only ask. It is unfortunate that your other freedman has been gone these past few weeks but I understand fully your decision to let him go. I’ve seen many of them on their way myself, as you know. I would have been glad to meet him but it was not to be for by the time I was up and about, he had already come and gone.”
“Yes, your illness,” Marcus said as he wondered idly what Trenus would have thought of an occasion such as this. “I am glad to see you fully recovered.”
“Oh, it was nothing I tell you, nothing. Lucilia, the darling girl, does like to fuss over her old papa. Confined to my bed like a prisoner I was! In the beginning I suspected there were things afoot in the house that she wished to keep me from.”
Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Surely not.”
He turned his head slightly, catching Lucilia’s eye and she smiled at him warmly.
“And then, once she stopped fussing so much I really did begin to feel quite unwell so she was right all along,” Manlius continued, oblivious. “The perils of advancing in years, don’t you think? Ah, now here is Laenas and his most delightful lady. I am beyond ecstatic that you could all attend this evening, it has been far too long.” He clapped his hands. “Oh Lucilia, my sweet, are we ready to dine?”
He scurried away leaving Marcus and Esca to greet Popillius Laenas, a rather short, bearded man and his much taller, much younger wife.
“Will you regale us with your tale of heroism and peril again?” Laenas asked. “I swear I never tire of hearing it.”
“Perhaps we could hear from Esca,” the statuesque Tullia proposed. She had been Laenas’s slave until he freed her and married her and as the only other native Briton guest, she no doubt wished to hear Esca’s version of events.
“If he wishes to tell,” said Marcus as Esca slid him a look that said he had no intention of providing any sort of entertainment. “I am loathe to make promises on his behalf.”
Manlius returned with Atius Varus and his brother Publius in tow and began rambling on about crops and cattle and the recent weather. Esca rolled his eyes but he smiled and followed Marcus into the triclinium, reclining a little awkwardly on the couch next to him when they were allocated their positions.
“Must we eat like this?” he asked, quietly so none of the other guests would hear. “It is most uncomfortable.”
“Manlius is our host and if he wishes his guests to recline for dinner then we recline. Surely you can manage.”
“One more thing I will never understand about Romans.”
“If all you are going to do is complain then I shall soon regret persuading you to come.”
Esca leaned across and whispered into Marcus’s ear. “You enjoyed persuading me.”
“That I did,” Marcus agreed, hiding his smile behind his cup of wine as a flush of heat spread through him at the reminder of what they had done in the pasture earlier that day.
Wine flowed while the guests ate at their leisure and the food was excellent as always with assorted dishes of fish and venison and vegetables followed by sweet pastries and fruits, many heartfelt compliments being bestowed upon Manlius and his cook. Esca did not say much throughout the dinner but he appeared quite content to listen to the conversation and despite having denied any wish to eat and drink until he could no longer move, he filled plate after plate with food from the table and drank copious quantities of watered wine although he insisted on taking the pitcher of wine from the serving slave and filling his own cup.
“This is good,” he told Marcus. “Now I know why you are always so eager to come here.”
“That is not the only reason,” Marcus protested. “I come also for the company and to foster good relations with our neighbours. We will benefit from mutual assistance and if times are hard, we may rely upon their goodwill.”
“May we also rely on their wine?”
“Yes, that too,” Marcus admitted with a wry smile, savouring the last mouthful from his cup. “I would like to speak more privately with Lucilia for I have not had much opportunity yet this evening. Will you be alright for a while?” With the food courses finished and some of the guests leaving their couches to stretch their legs, this would be his best chance to talk to her away from the general conversation. Indeed, he had not seen her since the fateful day he attempted his clumsy proposal but he held her in high regard still, considering her a good and loyal friend. “I will not be long.”
“As long as you don’t ask her to marry you again,” Esca whispered, not quite as quietly as he should have, but he was not annoyed and Marcus ignored the comment, attributing it to Esca’s tongue merely being loosened by the effects of far more wine than he was used to.
Leaving him quite happily sipping from his cup and listening to Varus and his brother bicker as siblings were wont to do, Marcus accompanied Lucilia and Tullia to the peristylium where they sauntered around the plants and exchanged pleasantries, the air thick with the scent of Manlius’s prized imported roses.
“I am glad that you are here this evening,” Lucilia said to him when finally Tullia lagged behind to admire the flowers, “and that you seem much more at peace than when I saw you last.”
“Thanks in part to you for standing up to my nonsensical notions.”
She wore a plain gown of pale green linen, free of jewellery and other adornments, her hair styled without undue fuss and Marcus wondered whether in another life they would have made a compatible couple, lacking passion perhaps but nevertheless content.
“And what of your unsuitable match?” Lucilia asked, startling him out of his musings. “Did you take my advice?”
“All is well,” Marcus confided, feeling suddenly shy and bowing his head to avoid her eyes. “I am forgiven.”
“Good,” she laughed, patting his arm. “I hope you will find happiness together.”
Whether she knew it was Esca or not, she did not say but Marcus was sure she was too discreet to ever ask outright or question the lack of any woman in his life. She understood what it was to be a Roman who wished to follow a different path than the one expected of them - free in name but yet restricted by law and convention. She understood and therefore would not judge, and that was enough.
“But what of you?” Marcus asked. “I feel obliged to help find you a worthy husband but sadly I know of nobody unless you harbour a secret wish to marry my uncle.”
They both laughed at that and when she had regained her composure, Lucilia politely declined the offer.
“I did however have a mind to ask father’s permission to visit my elder sister in Londinium,” she told him. “Manlia is with child again and although she has no need of help for she married well and wants for nothing, I thought to offer her some assistance. When I last received word from her she told me that her husband has a few acquaintances who may be suitable and also a most pleasant cousin who is newly arrived on these shores and who hopes to set up as a farmer.”
“Does she know that you wish to marry for love?”
“She does.”
“Then I will ask the gods to look favourably upon you,” Marcus said, “and bring you everything you seek.”
“You are a true friend.”
“As you deserve.”
“If I go, will you watch over father for me?” Lucilia asked. “He has all the help that he needs for the farm and he will be well looked after if I am away for a while but it would comfort me to know that you were on hand to oversee.”
“It would be my honour.”
“Thank you, dear Marcus. Now, you are in need of more wine and I believe that Esca needs rescuing. He looks dreadfully bored.”
Esca, once rescued, was glassy-eyed but whether from boredom, too much wine or both Marcus was unsure. They settled back onto their couches and when both Marcus and Esca declined to repeat the story of the eagle standard, the assembled guests listened instead to Manlius recount various stories of his soldiering days.
“Are you betrothed then?” Esca asked, spluttering into his cup, evidently amused and wishing to torment Marcus with his previous lapse of character.
“No,” Marcus replied in all seriousness, “and neither is my uncle.”
Esca’s amusement vanished and he frowned, bemused at the cryptic response. Unable to understand after much consideration, he decided to turn his attention back to Manlius’s booming voice. “I cannot imagine him getting up to so much mischief!” he whispered hoarsely into Marcus’s ear. “I suspect he has made up these tales.”
“The stories never change no matter how many times he tells them so there is every chance that they are true,” Marcus replied, draining his cup and immediately refilling it, admiring the deep red hue of the wine as Manlius droned on in the background. “One day, we will plant vines and make our own wine.”
Esca nodded his head vigorously in agreement. “And that is one idea of yours where you shall hear no complaint from me.”
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It was dark when they drunkenly stumbled home together, a borrowed lantern lighting their way.
“I must bow to your better judgement,” Esca slurred, bounding ahead of Marcus and turning back to make an elaborate bow. “I did indeed enjoy myself this evening and I take back everything disparaging I ever said about Manlius and the lovely Lucilia.”
“I told you,” Marcus said, grinning as Esca finished his bow and settled back into step beside him.
“You did and you were right.”
“So will you be joining us for Manlius’s next dinner party?”
“That is not a given for it still does not sit well with me to be served by slaves, happy or not. I reserve the right to choose for myself if I ever attend in the future.”
“Well said, Esca. Well said.”
They continued on in silence and Marcus suddenly realised that he was alone for Esca had stopped and was staring up into the darkness, swaying slightly.
“Has the wine made you ill?” he asked. “You did drink rather a lot.”
“No,” Esca said. “I was wondering if the sky looks the same where Trenus is.”
“He is probably watching the heavens somewhere far from here and wondering the same thing about you.” Marcus retraced his steps to stand beside him, joining him in looking up at the night sky which was peppered with stars, the moon pale and bright but only half full. “Never fear Esca, he will find a place to call home,” he said softly, “and he will find someone to call his own.”
“We were inseparable as children then, as we grew older, I thought I would never love anyone as much as him. I was wrong.” Esca met Marcus’s gaze, smiling. “I chose well when I chose you.”
Marcus reached out and briefly stroked a hand over Esca’s hair then laid an arm over his shoulders, hugging him close. An arm slid across his back in response and they supported each other as they lurched onwards, the lantern in Esca’s free hand casting erratic beams of light ahead of them until he swung it with too much force and dropped it. The flame immediately extinguished and after much laughter and several curses they left the lantern lying where it was, to be retrieved later, walking the remainder of the way with only the light of the moon to guide them. Soon the gateway that led to their farm finally loomed into view and Marcus was reminded of the times before when he had staggered home, drunk and weary, to find Esca waiting for him there. He admitted to himself that it was much better to have Esca by his side instead of waiting and as they passed through the gate to make their way up the path, his thoughts turned to how he had so nearly lost Esca through his own foolishness and how happy he was to have been given a second chance with this feisty, stubborn Briton he loved so dearly.
In one quick move, Marcus grabbed a squealing Esca’s waist, slung him over one shoulder with an ease that belied his own intoxicated state and carried him over the threshold into their house.