“Jason!” Menelaus jogged his direction with a grin. “My friend, where have you been? I have not seen you since we arrived.”
Jason smiled and turned to clasp his friend’s wrist. “Menelaus. You look well. I have been with my family, letting my mother suffocate me to her heart’s content.”
Menelaus laughed and fell in beside the other man in the direction he had been headed. “When will you grow tired of it? Lentulus and I have been exploring, but your native eye would be welcome.”
“You should have caught me yesterday, my friend. I am on watch tonight, so am off today. I could have taken you around last eve had I but known.”
Menelaus sighed but was obviously not distressed. “Next week, perhaps. And have you seen Titus?”
“I see him every day, at least in passing. I would not be surprised if he were around now, actually, I believe our schedules are the same.”
They both looked around, as if expecting the other to appear, but he was not within sight.
“I will keep an eye out for him,” Menelaus said after a short inspection of the marketplace. “In the meantime, just point me in the direction of women. I cannot go another day without the pleasure of soft lips on mine, warm flesh under my hands–”
Jason cut him off with a chuckle. “No need to go into detail, Menelaus. I am aware of its delights. And I believe if you just follow this street–” He motioned to an avenue nearby– “until it intersects another, and follow that one to the right, you will find all you need to be satisfied at a fair price.”
Menelaus looked that way as a starving man eyed a feast. “Perfect. What of you? Coming?”
Jason stood for a moment before shaking his head. “I would rather spend my money elsewhere. And I believe I can find my satisfaction in my own home. My mother has this slave, Abigail.” He paused, turned up his lips. “Her beauty puts Titus’s women to shame, Menelaus. She is young and fair and unspoiled. I shall greatly enjoy making her mine.”
Menelaus’s eyes narrowed. “This is unfair, Jason. You get to live in a house, with a cook and slaves to wait on you, and even one to warm your bed. I shall write Caesar with complaints of such blatant inequality among his officers.”
Jason punched his friend lightly in the arm. “Go ahead. I would like to see his response.”
Menelaus pushed Jason in return, then shifted once more to look in the direction he had been pointed. “Well, I will call on you next week, perhaps, if the invitation from your parents is still open.”
“Indeed.”
“And I would like to see this slave of yours. To make certain you are not exaggerating.”
Jason laughed. “What cause would I have to exaggerate?”
Menelaus shrugged. “You are a wretch. For now, I will take my leave. I can hear sweet lips calling me–”
“And your wages,” Jason finished for him with a smile. “Go on your way, my friend. I will see you soon.”
Menelaus started walking away. “Give Titus my greetings. And Apidius, if you see him.”
“I will. And you give Lentulus mine.”
They parted with hands raised in farewell, but Jason did not long think on his friend. There was a particular pair of sweet lips he would like to hear calling him too.
*
Abigail stepped out of the small tub, humming the psalm she had heard Dinah singing minutes earlier. Morning stillness bathed her as surely as the water had and brought peace to her soul. In a few minutes, the day would truly begin. Breakfast preparations, helping Ester rise, seeing to the daily tasks. But for now, she was alone.
She wrung out the sopping mass of her hair, then straightened with a start when a creak disturbed her peace. It sounded almost like someone entering the house . . .
The young master–he would be returning from his night watch, and she had completely forgotten. Panicked, she grabbed her tunic and pulled it over her head. The hem settled into place just as the shuffles that had replaced the creak solidified into a tired-looking Jason.
He looked a bit surprised to find her in the empty kitchen, and the way his gaze trailed over her made her uncomfortably aware of the way her tunic clung to her still-wet figure. What must he think of her? She quickly veiled herself with her hair, face down.
“I have interrupted you, I think.” A smile saturated his voice, but Abigail dared not look up to see it.
“My apologies, Lord. Dinah and I always–that is, we forgot . . . . You must be famished. May I bring you food in the triclinium?”
“I will await my parents, thank you.”
He said no more, but still she felt his gaze on her. Hot, more intense than ever. Certain her cheeks had turned scarlet, Abigail averted her face and prayed he would leave.
Instead he motioned to the tub. “Shall I dispose of that for you?”