Curse of the Jackalmen

when in Rome....

I actually like this chapter

"You" Syn' s mother hissed. Well someone was cross. I really wasn't in the mood for trouble. It was my first day back in Rome and I already had lost a fight to an untrained thief. My pride was maimed and here Kyrapatri was to rub my face in it. "How Dare you run off like that! You could have run off to freedom out something! How were we to know that wasn't one of your trashy friends giving you an excuse to flee!? You know Rome well and could have fled!"

"SO WHAT!? WAS I SUPPOSED TO LET HIM HAVE THE MONEY!?" I snapped and shouted. I wasn't trying to run. That was an insane idea!

"How Dare you!" She backhanded me making my bruise smart. " you might as well have left it. Pretty much payed them to beat you."

I bared my teeth and growled in frustration causing her to mutter something about feral dogs. She was impossible to please. No, I believe aggravating me pleased her. She loved watching me suffer in frustration, my head steaming but forced to hold my tongue and contain my temper.

"We need to do something so she can't run away." She said thoughtfully.

"Branding?" Suggested Ptolis with an evil smirk. I shot him a hateful glare.

"No nothing permanent. What if we sell her......." Kyrapatri muttered, still thinking. "Oh we'll find something. For now. Go inside."

*******

My room here was about the same size as the one in Egypt, but I had to share it with Ptolis. We had couch-like beds on opposing walls and the door was off the foot of mine past my chest. Hemite's palate was in its usual spot beside my bed. The three of us had all come up here to unpack after my mother's dismissal.

"Look here slave." Ptolis drawled, getting up and standing over Hemite.

"She has a name you know." I was already sick of hearing Ptolis say slave in his usual tone.

"Yes. She does. Slave." He replied smirking. "Since we're sharing a room, there are to be some ground rules. "

Hemite looked him in the eye and nodded her understanding. I watched this with interest, he was actually talking to her like she might understand him.

"First off,I still expect you to call me master or sir. If I give you a reasonable command," She opened her mouth to protest, " reasonable by Syn's standards," I nodded and she reluctantly did as well,"then I expect you to follow it. Also, I don't want you sitting around sharpening your knives when guests are here. It's menacing. Finally, and most importantly. You are to never cross to my side of three room without express permission from me. My side is defined by this line."

He took a piece of charcoal and drew a rough black line down the middle of the room. Hemite agreed and flopped back on her palate. She looked rather displeased with the quartering arrangements. I couldn't blame her. Ptolis was a jerk sometimes, but sometimes she exaggerated what he said and did. I was actually feeling a little sick of Hemite and her attitude. Would it kill her to be obedient and respectful?

*******

Even though there was a perfectly good well in the square outside the villa, I decided to take the extra time to walk to a farther one and pay a visit to a part of my childhood. The center where I was trained was actually at the rich old man's house. I was excited to present my now grown self to him. So enthused that I had actually put extra effort into my hair, it was in a secure updo that wouldn't get in the way of fighting, and found my cleanest and newest tunic. My blades were sharpened and polished like mirrors.

I tentatively knocked on the sturdy door, not ornate like many wealthy citizens had, but practical and rugged. Just like Sir. Sir's real name was Grattius Trogus Rabirious, but only Karo remembered that. He insisted on going by Sir.