determined to try again â but not yet. I would have to wait until my leg was completely healed. Also, I would make sure I had some money next time, even if I had to steal it from the master himself.
As we went in, I began to feel frightened. I would be in bad trouble. The cook would probably beat me.
All the other slaves were back by now, eating their evening meal. When they saw me, everyone started talking at once. The cook looked relieved for an instant, then angry. He came towards me with his fists clenched.
But Tiro stood in front of me, blocking his path. Tiro was far bigger and stronger than the cook. He pointed to my injured leg, probably explaining about the dog bite. Fortunately, he didnât know the whole story.
The cook was still not happy. He started shouting. I guessed he wanted to know why Iâd left the other slaves at the racetrack. If only I knew more Latin, I could have made up some excuse or other. As it was, I was helpless.
Somehow, though, Tiro managed to calm things down. I donât know what he said, but it made everyone laugh. Even the cook gave a wintry smile, and he decided not to punish me. But he watched me very closely from that day on.
* * *
I was allowed a few days in bed because of my leg. When no one else was around, Theon came to see me.
âI know what you were doing,â he said. âYou were trying to run away.â
âI wasnât,â I said. There was something about Theon that I didnât trust.
âDonât worry â you can tell me. I promise I wonât tell anyone.â
If he had been a true Celt of my own tribe, I might have believed him. But he was only half Celtish â and he couldnât even remember the name of his motherâs tribe. He didnât think it mattered! That showed how much of a Celt he was.
âThereâs nothing to tell. I went outside to get a drink and then got lost,â I lied.
âOh yes?â His voice was mocking. âSo badly lost that you ended up miles away?â
âI was trying to find my way back.â
He laughed. âBack here? Or back to Britain?â
When I didnât answer, he got annoyed. âWhatâs so wonderful about Britain? It rains all the time. The people are quarrelsome savages. The women are ugly and the foodâs lousy. Thatâs what the soldiers say.â
âThen why were the Romans so keen to conquer it?â I asked him.
That silenced him, but only for a moment. âI suppose we may eventually make it worth living in. We might even make a profit out of it.â
Yes â like Theon might make a profit out of me. If I confided in him, he might keep my secret, but only while it suited him. If he told the master about my plans to escape, then he might be rewarded.
On the other hand, if I did tell him, he could help me. He probably knew the answer to many of my questions. And I was desperate to talk to someone. My thoughts had been trapped inside my head for too long because I couldnât put them into words. Should I tell him?
In the end, I decided not to. At least, not yet.
â chapter ix â
Saturnalia
Â
My escape bid had taught me something important â I must try to learn the Roman language. Without it, I would get nowhere.
Until now, I hadnât even attempted to learn Latin â I had closed my ears to the sound of it all around me. But now I started listening, and I was surprised to find that I could understand quite a bit of what people were saying. Even if I only knew some of the words, I could often make a guess at the rest.
But actually speaking Latin . . . that was harder. I didnât want to say something totally stupid and have people laugh at me.
The first person I spoke to in Latin was Tiro. I knew he would never laugh at my accent or make fun of my mistakes. By now, I was in the habit of visiting the stable every afternoon during the hour of sleep. If Tiro was asleep, I didnât wake