Buying Trouble
Cornix's Story - by HiperBunny




There are some days when it just isn't worth it. I didn't join this army to slaughter civilians and I certainly didn't join up to watch innocent children get dragged from their homes and sold into slavery. This was supposed to be about honor and a good name. After watching the campaigns to the North Lands I start to wonder just who I'm supposed to root for, anymore.

Take yesterday, for instance. One of the city patrols decided they knew a slave and took it into their heads to lay hands on him. Scared the little bugger clean out of his wits, I'm given to understand. Now what kind of times are we living in that citizens feel they have to defend their property from the army, I ask you? Problem is, with these particular men I'm dead certain the citizen did the right thing. Seems like they'll take just any old trash into the ranks these days. And now that trash is my problem.

I'll tell you, if Citizen Macius hadn't brought this to me, I don't know what I could do. They drag these barbarians up here, like they don't know the penalty for this sort of thing, then ditch them into the slave market as fast as they hit the city limits. By the time I catch up to them the victim is either disappeared, dead or just plain crazy. Citizen Macius seems to think this Quiaius fellow has one tamed down. I'll believe it when I see it.



I don't believe it.

I saw it, and I still don't believe it. It was ... gardening.

Gardening, by all the gods at once! Just ... weeding and rowing and making ready for seed, as if ... as if ...

As if it were a creature of sense and civilization.

I've always thought the northern barbarians had something of a quickness to them, but this beats all I've ever seen. And there's no denying what he is. The tattoo would prove it, if nothing else. But I heard his voice as well, calling to his master to fetch the cats in. The cats, it would seem, were interested in gardening as well. Ledouix took a fly-by of them, but they seemed as unperturbed by his presence as he was by theirs. Damn ravens. Never can teach the boy any manners. But that boy, that barbarian, that ... he should be mad by now. He's not. His eyes were clear, his body growing strong ... this Quiaius has been tending to him well.

There are scars, though. Thick scars at wrist and ankle, made by chains or I miss my guess. And elsewhere. Thin lines on the shoulders, one on his chest. It makes me ill to think what that child has been through. Is there no justice in this world? Well, if there isn't now, there soon will be. If I must make it of my own hand, so be it.



Nothing draws my ire like a coward or a lie. A lie from a coward is near unforgivable. That these street dogs have lied to me and thought me fool enough to lend them ear ... it is more than my honor can stand.

Mercus Marusia stood before me, in this very office, and smiled, laughing at that boy's misfortune. "He was a hellcat when we took him first. Like as he would've killed us all, if we hadn't been against him together. But no fear that the Roman armies can't subdue an uprisen population. He came along willing enough, after a time."

That this was in direct contradiction of his allies' words but full of pride make me believe there is some truth in it. Rute and Callagio shared a story, different but no less preposterous. As if a Celt of any stripe would wish to leave his own lands.

They've bled and died often enough, just to have their bodies in their own ground. That, rather than be taken prisoner and brought away from their precious trees. I'll wager quite the stack that this one was like the others, if not more so. I say more so, because he lives still. And in truth, I think I saw something like joy in him. Where that comes from, I haven't the faintest notion. Perhaps working the earth brings him memories of home. Perhaps.

In any event, brutality shall not go unpunished. I've let Ledouix decide, and he chose two chips this time. One for sixmoon stocks and one for exile. Alexandria is purely awful this time of year, and the road to it quite perilous. I believe I'll add a daily whipping to the punishment, for the lies. That's a personal dishonor they've dealt me. I shall have to tend it personally. But before I can do anything, I must speak to this boy's master and see what sense can be gotten from him.



The home of Citizen Quiaius was both elegant and small. I had walked this street before, visiting this or that official on business and so forth. That house, with its many cats and other assorted wildlife had often caught Ledouix's attention and he seemed most eager to inspect it closely. I rapped on the door and stepped back as footsteps approached from within. To my surprise, the boy answered it. His response was instructive.

His eyes went wide, fear etched on every feature for a handful of breaths. I froze, as I would before a startled beast. When I made no move, he seemed to collect himself. The next thing I knew, I was being cursed roundly in a mixture of the Northern tongue and broken Latin. Then the door slammed, and the yelling continued from behind it. After a moment, a gentle voice joined the boy's loud one until both were quiet. Then the door opened once more.

Quiaius opened the door and I bowed. He wasn't nearly as old as I'd been led to believe, and his eyes held a certain ... something. Gentleness, I suppose. He stepped out into the street and regarded me carefully.

"How may I help you?"

I bowed again before replying. "Forgive me, Citizen. I did not mean to upset your morning, but I must speak to you about that boy you have. My name is Kourtus Cornix, and I command the soldiers who were patrolling the marketplace a few days ago. I'm told they did your boy a harm. I thought, perhaps, I should speak to you about him ...?"

"He is mine. He is not for sale."

I blinked at that. "No, I did not think he was. It is a matter of ... some urgency to me. Must we speak in the street?"

Quiaius frowned at that, then opened the door. "Eab, he wants to come in."

"No!" That was the boy again.

"I don't want to hurt you, boy. I want to ask you some questions," I called to him, not sure how much he understood of my language.

"NO SOLDIERS, KAIS!"

Quiaius shrugged. "No soldiers," he repeated, as if this were the end of it.

I sighed, not quite knowing how to proceed. "Citizen, I have now in my prisons those I believe to be responsible for the boy's arrival in Rome. They are due punishment for what I believe they have done, but ... proof is thin. I was hoping he could ... help me."

"Help you how, exactly?" Quiaius wanted to know.

"Well, by accusing them, going on record, pointing out to me who did what and when. I KNOW they are guilty, but ... the punishment must fit the crime."

He pushed the door open again. "Eab, he's here to help. I won't let him hurt you."

I stifled my smile. Though Quiaius is far from elderly, he's hardly in a position to oppose me if it came to a confrontation. On the other hand, he has managed to tame a Celt, so maybe there's more to him than meets the eye.

The boy looked angry, but stepped away from the door. "Your house."

The door opened completely and Quiaius preceded me into the home. I was let into a small sitting room and made myself comfortable on a stool. Quiaius joined me, but the boy stayed just outside of the doorway, unwilling to be in the same room with me. The reasons I knew to cause that fear quite sickened me. I decided to direct my questions to the master and let him deal with the slave. I hardly felt qualified to interrogate such a one as he.

"About the market ... were those the ones that brought him here?"

Quiaius turned to the boy. "Eab?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders and frowned at the floor, uncomfortable.

"Do you think he can be made to understand?" I asked, beginning to wonder if I'd come here on a fool's errand.

"Oh, he understands me just perfectly. Perhaps if you spoke a trifle more slowly?"

I nodded. "The soldiers who assaulted your slave in the marketplace. It is they whom I have taken into custody for misconduct. Were they the ones who captured him?"

"Eab, the soldiers from the market. They were the ones who hurt you?" Quiaius asked.

The boy nodded, then shrugged, still not looking up.

"Were there others? Besides those ones you saw there?" I asked, speaking slowly and pitching my voice to a soothing tone.

He nodded again.

"Would you recognize them if you saw them again?" I pressed.

"Why ask those things?" he demanded of his master.

"He wants to punish them," Quiaius explained.

"Punish them?"

"Yes, punish. They broke laws and must be punished," I replied.

He frowned at me, clearly processing what I had said. "How would he punish them?"

I blew out a breath, trying to think how best to explain. Ledouix cawed once and pecked at my hair. I reached up and stroked his black feathers as I thought, trying to think of the easiest terms for the boy.

Finally, I said, "They will be put in chains. They will be made to stand in the sun for harming you. They will be ... struck ... beaten." I turned to Quiaius. "Does he understand 'beaten'?"

"I don't think I've ever explained it to him," Quiaius replied. "We've never needed the word in my home."

"How did you break him without ..." I began.

"I didn't break him," Quiaius hotly informed me.

"I see." I thought again, then took Ledouix off my shoulder so I could shift my tunic, showing a scar I once took from a lash. "Whipped?"

He rubbed at his chest, frowning. Then with careful motions he mimed swinging a flail. "Whipped."

"Yes, they'll be whipped for hurting you. Then I will send them away from their home, far to the east, never to return."

"Whip them ... chain them ... force them to leave?"

"Yes. For hurting you. But I need to know who did it."

"Will you ..." He looked at Quiaius, asking for a word.

The Citizen closed his eyes and supplied it in a whisper. "Rape."

"Will you rape them?"

I closed my eyes as well, my heart a cold stone in my breast. "I cannot."

"Why not?"

"Rape is wrong. I could not do that to anyone, no matter how much he might deserve it," I explained.

"You are a soldier."

I couldn't look at him. Could not. I wanted to hide my face from him, so shamed was I by his innocent words. Instead, I picked Ledouix up and stroked his feathers, soothing myself with their softness. "Yes, I am. But I try to be a good man, and rape is ... disgusting, foul. I could not."

"Eab." Quiaius drew the boy's attention away. "I smell the bread."

The boy left us then, and to my shame I was glad of it. "Citizen, I ... I have more to say, but perhaps my offer is in vain. I will be going to the Northern Lands soon and ... I thought he might like to go home. I would take him under my protection, of course. Nothing ... I would not allow any harm to befall him. It is your decision, of course. He is yours, under the law ... but he was not born into slavery. He should be freed."

Quiaius took a deep breath and released it. "I will discuss it with him, of course. I thank you for the offer, but ..."

I held up my hand, forestalling him. "It is plain to see he has great fear of our Roman soldiers. Perhaps it would not be a kindness to send him away with the armies."

"Still, your suggestion has merit. Perhaps he should go home." Quiaius seemed less than happy at the idea. "As for the other, I will speak to him, learn what I can for you. If he is willing, we will help you, but I will not force him to do anything that upsets him."

I could only agree. "I think he has been forced into far too many things that have hurt him. He belongs to you, and he plainly has a loyalty to you. Do as you see fit. I will abide by it. As for myself, I will do as I have said with those he has accused."

"Accused?"

"Near enough for me, and I am the judge that matters in this case," I explained. "Bring me more and I will do all that I can to put this right. It sickens me, the lawlessness I'm made to correct with this command. My predecessor was ... less than vigilant."

And with that I made my goodbye to him, wishing blessings on them both. I hope there is more that I can do. There are so many like this boy that I could not help. Perhaps, in this case, I can bring some justice in this small way.

THE END



Feed HiperBunny

Back to Layna's Lounge

Home