'But why?' Demetrius asked earnestly, wrinkling his brow in the general direction of Cleo. Her attitude was baffling him.

'Lots of reasons, Domine,' replied Cleo reasonably, setting a cup of passum in front of him. 'Drink this. It's good for you. And eat your breakfast.'

Demetrius sipped. And made a face. 'Raisin wine is far too sweet for first thing in the morning.' It had raisins in it, too.

'And your question is far too complicated for first thing in the morning.' The housekeeper bustled around the kitchen, nudging cats from underfoot.

Speaking of cats. . . 'Have you seen Radu this morning?'

'Kyrios Radu has gone next door to talk to the lovely old gentleman. He'll be back, he said, by the time certain lazy people have had their breakfast.' She looked pointedly at the cup of passum.

Demetrius sighed and drank. 'But why?'

'Why what, Uncle Demetrie?' Chryssa bounced into the room. Was it his imagination, or had that young lady grown several inches in the last few weeks? It would seem that some changes had taken place during their sojourn in the borderlands.

Demetrius accepted a good-morning kiss, which even if Chryssa was growing was perfectly proper because he was a sort of adopted relative. And, in spite of their ages, the children in this remarkable family were canny and astute and deserved talking to with at least as much candour and respect as the average human adult.

'I'm trying to understand why your mother doesn't want the family to be manumitted right now.'

Chryssa wrinkled her brow at the big word. She was, after all, still a ten-year-old. 'Manumitted?'

'Set free. Not being slaves any more. Allowed to go anywhere you want and do anything you want.'

Chryssa laughed. "We do that now.'

Demetrius cocked his head. 'You do, don't you? Yes, that's true. But I thought your mother and father, and your aunt and uncles, might like to have their official papers. I had a whole ceremony planned. With hats.'

'With hats?' Cleo raised an eyebrow.

'Yes, hats,' replied Demetrius defensively. Radu had thought of the hats.

'Cool,' said Chryssa¹.

Cleo sat down with a sigh and addressed both children – Chryssa and Demetrius – with the weary patience of someone who loved them even though they were rather thick at times.

'That is very nice and thoughtful of you, Domine. But right now, we're all better off as we are. Business in Potentia is good. The boys are getting offers for musical performances everywhere. People are buying our furniture. Our reputation is good. Our overhead is almost non-existent, due to your generous help in providing a roof over our heads.'

'In return for which, I am getting excellent meals, superb housekeeping, and wonderful company,' put in Demetrius. He winked at Chryssa, who winked back.

Cleo graciously acknowledged this tit-for-tat. 'Also, Fortunatus and his family are doing well by working with us. The children love each other. They wouldn't want to move right now – but if we got manumitted, we would probably have to. And they don't know anybody in Greece. They've just got settled down here. So,' she concluded, 'we'll just keep things the way they are for the time being, all right?'

She slapped her knees and stood up. 'Now, finish your breakfast, put on your oldest tunic and an old pair of sandals, and go play with your friends. And drink that passum. It's good for you!'

'Can I go, too?' whispered Chryssa,. Anything requiring old clothes might be fun.

'I'll check with Radu and let you know,' Demetrius whispered back.

Hats: it was a good thing Pertinax had thought of them. Not the freedman's pileus, but good, wide-brimmed straw hats to shade their eyes and protect them from the sun. The reason for the old clothes had become apparent as soon as they hit the vineyard: grapes stain. Particularly if, like Radu, you liked to sample the goods. Nobody minded: there were plenty of grapes and a lot of what Demetrius privately thought of as democracy going on.

Argyros and Stephanos were busy in the shop, so Chryssa had this adventure with her uncles all to herself. She was secretly pleased about this, as well as the attention paid to her by old Pertinax, who secretly wished he had a granddaughter like her (and who wished Manius would hurry up).

In between climbing ladders and trading full baskets for empty ones, Pertinax kept up a running patter on the subject of viticulture. The old man was an armchair expert on everybody's favourite beverage.

'Handle this one carefully, my dear, I'm afraid I've got it rather full. These are absolutely first-rate grapes – and not that hard to gather. Have you ever been to Campania for the wine-gathering, Demetrie?'

Demetrius admitted that he had not.

'Some there train the grapevines on poplar trees.'

'They must grow very tall, then,' observed Chryssa. 'I'd like to see that! Wouldn't you, Uncle Radu?'

'Mmpf,' replied Radu with a mouth full of grapes.

'Stop eating so many,' admonished Demetrius. 'You'll get a bellyache. Save it for the wine vats.' Chryssa giggled as she lugged yet another basket to the collection point.

'Yes, indeed, they grow very tall,' Pertinax returned to the subject. 'The vine is married to the tree, and grows ever upward.'

'They must have tall ladders in Campania,' commented Radu, his mouth free of grapes. He would have looked more virtuous if his face hadn't been so stained.

Demetrius laughed and reached him a handkerchief. 'And have a head for heights.'

'Indeed,' commented Pertinax. 'I must admit, this ladder is making me a bit dizzy.'

'Come and pick with me and the other children,' suggested Chryssa. 'We're getting the ones we can reach from the ground. We can teach each other songs while we work.'

The notion of a young audience delighted Pertinax, who went willingly. Soon the pickers were plucking grapes to the accompaniment of cheerful music.

'Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love. . . ' The kids danced around with the grape baskets as they sang this latest hit.

'Shocking,' said Radu in mock horror.

Demetrius laughed. 'That Catullus has a lot to answer for.' They sang along, hefting full baskets up and down.

Pertinax decided to distract the children from the romantic music by teaching them an old counting song he himself had first heard as a little boy.

Decem amphorae viridiae pendent ex muro. . .

'No, no!' shouted the children. 'Start with centum! Centum amphorae viridiae pendent ex muro. . . '

'Oh, no!' groaned Demetrius, and several parents groaned with him. 'This will take all day to finish!'

'si forte una amphora viridia cadit ad terram. . . ' An annoyed parent threw a grape that bounced off Pertinax's straw hat. He sang on, unheeding. He was having the time of his life.

As the sun set behind the hills, two weary grape-pickers gathered their last baskets and prepared to head home for dinner and a hot bath.

Demetrius rotated a reflective shoulder. 'You know, I could probably fly all the way to Pietas Iulia and back and be less tired than I am now.'

Looking around to make sure nobody was listening, Radu replied, 'Yeah, wings don't get so sore. I think I want liniment and that thing Cleopas knows how to do with muscles.'

Demetrius agreed. 'Comes of all that hydraulis playing. The man has good hands.'

As they collected Pertinax and Chryssa from their playmates and headed homewards, Demetrius reflected that, all in all, he was glad Cleo and her family were in no hurry to leave.

'I'm for an early night,' said Radu.

'Yes, my young friend, rest up,' advised Pertinax. 'For tomorrow, we tread the grapes.' He smiled down at Chryssa, who smiled back.

'Glory, glory, hallelujah,' breathed Radu for no apparent reason.

DG

16.09.24 Front Page

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