Household Gods

Brigomarus raised his eyebrows. “What? That never bothered you before.” He sucked on a front tooth, as if it helped him get his thoughts in order. “I hate to lose the money she cost, too – and if one of those customers knocked her up, the brat would bring a nice piece of change.” By his tone, he might have been trying to talk his sister out of a real-estate deal he thought foolish. Like Julia and everyone else Nicole had seen in this place, he had not the slightest sense that anything was wrong with or about slavery itself.

It drove Nicole crazy. The casual way in which Brigomarus spoke of selling a child for profit made her belly go tight and cold. “Setting Julia free is what I want to do,” she said with unshaken determination, “and I’m going to do it.”

Brigomarus scowled. “Listen, you know it’s not that simple.” He paused as if to control his temper, or maybe to come up with an argument a silly woman would understand. “Look, Umma, if you’re bound and determined, I don’t want to fight over it. Life is too short as it is. Let’s do it like this, if you’ve got your mind set on it.” He waited for Nicole’s emphatic nod, then went on, “Let her earn more money and keep more money, so she can pay back what she cost.”

Julia’s face fell. Nicole could make a pretty good guess what that meant: with what Julia could make, she’d never be able to pay for herself – unless she sold her body, and sold it and sold it… That was partly why Nicole shook her head even more violently than she’d nodded, but only partly. She could not stomach owning a slave for one more instant. And there was no way in hell she was going to compromise with the system by taking money from Julia in return for Julia’s freedom. “No,” Nicole said. “I’m going to emancipate her, and that’s that. “

“I say you’re not going to do anything of the sort.” Brigomarus sounded as revoltingly sure of himself as any senior partner at her old law firm.

“You may be my brother” – and then again, you may not – “but you’re not my master, so don’t treat me as if you think you are,” Nicole snapped. Brigomarus stared at her as if she, or rather Umma, had never spoken to him like that before. If Umma hadn’t, she’d probably wasted a lot of good chances. “She’s not your slave, she’s mine, and I’m going to do with her as I think best.”

“As you think best?” Brigomarus¹ eyebrows had climbed to his hairline in an expression of comic incredulity – but there was nothing comic about his tone. “And what does that have to do with it? You have a family, Umma, and you seem to have forgotten about it.”

“I haven’t forgotten!” Nicole said hotly – and honestly enough. She never forgot Kimberley or Justin, either, even in the deep throes of life in Carnuntum.

She knew what he meant, nevertheless, and couldn’t help a stab of guilt at the actual, if not technical, falsehood.

“Oh, you haven’t?” Brigomarus drawled. “Not that I’d blame you for wanting to forget dear Mother and our snotty sisters, after they’ve married up and you’ve stayed where we came from, and I know they never waste a chance to remind you of it, either. But even so, Umma, and even if you don’t care what this does to the rest of the family, I never imagined you, of all people, throwing away good money for no good reason.”

Nicole stiffened her back and lifted her chin. “I’m going to do what’s best for me and what’s best for Julia, and that’s all I’m worried about,” she said.

She’d shocked Brigomarus: she saw it in his eyes. And she’d shocked Julia, which shocked her in turn.

Well, she thought, if the second century isn’t ready for a little twentieth-century assertiveness – and only a little, because she’d soft-pedaled it as best she could – too damn bad.

Stiffly, Brigomarus said, “We’ll speak of this further when you’ve come to your senses. The gods grant it be soon.” He looked into his cup, saw he had a swallow of wine left, and gulped it down. Then he stalked out of the tavern, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. He hadn’t, Nicole noticed, said good-bye, even to the kids.

“Mistress -“ Julia looked and sounded deeply worried. “Mistress, are you really sure you want to quarrel with your family over me? A family’s the most important thing in the world. If you don’t have a family you’re on good terms with, who’s going to nurse you when you’re sick? Who’s going to take care of your children if you die? Who’s going to help you if you go into debt? If I had a family, I’d never get them angry at me.”

Nicole looked at Julia as if seeing her for the first time. She was all alone in the world. As a slave, she was more thoroughly isolated from everyone around her than anyone in the twentieth century could be. That, thought Nicole, no doubt made her look at family with a wistful longing only distantly connected to anything real. You needed to be in a family to know how horrible it could actually be.