Roman Flames

Chapter Twenty-Two: To Damascus

Chapter Twenty-Two: To Damascus

Marcus

My feet were very tired. My sandal straps had begun to cut into my ankles so I made the rest of my journey barefoot; the hard soles of my feet assured me that I wouldn’t feel the pain of rocks or uneven roads. After about two weeks of travelling, I was eager to sleep in a bed.

I entered a nice tavern, my throat aching. I sat down at a corner table and let out a breath. I had no clue where I was, nor was I about to ask. All I knew was that I had to keep moving until I was far, far away from Rome.

“Good evening, sir,” said a woman, and she placed before me a cup of wine before I had even asked. I gave her a confused look. “Judging by your appearance,” she said, “you’re in need of that.”

“Thank you,” I replied. She left and I rubbed my jaw. I had a beard growing from my two weeks on the road; I had no plans to shave it now. As I sipped the wine, which burned from my throat to my stomach but calmed me down, I thought about where it was that I would be sleeping now. I had taken shelter in stables, alleys, and a temple at one point, since I couldn’t afford a place to stay. I had hardly eaten since then as well, only spending money on food when I desperately needed it. I hadn’t resorted to thieving—yet—and I hoped it would never come to that. When I was far enough from Rome, I would look for a job. I knew I couldn’t escape the empire; I had neither the want nor the means to go that far, but a province far enough away would suffice.

“What is your name?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at the woman who had given me the wine. She was refilling, but I stopped her.

“I can’t afford that,” I told her. “Do not waste your wine on me.”

“It is not a waste,” she said. “It is on me. What is your name?”

I took a sip before I answered. “Marcus Axius,” I answered. “And you?”

“Laverna Cassia. You look like you have been on the road for a long time.”

“I have,” I answered. “But I don’t mind. I’m looking forward to this adventure.”

She smiled. “Have you been far?”

“Not really,” I replied honestly. “This will have been the farthest I’ve been.”

“Do you have a destination?”

I shook my head. “Again, it is an adventure.”

“Do you have a place to stay for the night, Marcus?”

“I do,” I lied. “Just down the street.”

She nodded in understanding. “Are you hoping to catch a ship? The docks are very close by.”

“I noticed,” I answered. “I smelled the sea. If I have enough for a passage, I’ll take one and see where I land.”

She smiled. “My father would really like you,” she said. “He used to be an adventurer himself.”

I shook my head with an embarrassed smile. “I’m—I’m not really an adventurer, per se. I’m just…a traveler, I suppose. At least I became one about two weeks ago.”

“Though I know it is not my business…may I inquire as to the purpose of your journey?”

I took another sip. “Of course,” I answered. “I’m simply looking for work outside of Rome. I would like to be acquainted with the other provinces.” I smiled. “I need a change in scenery. Also, I know employers prefer men who are well-traveled.”