Loukon had come to the difficult decision that if Theophilus again raised the matter of his becoming an adopted son, even in just a symbolic way, he was going to decline. As much as he respected the man and appreciated the sentiment, he had the deep feeling that he would be dishonoring his own father to accede to the request.
Anyway, his dream was to one day be considered a colleague of Theophilus. And that would never happen if he was forever seen as a son. Would turning down such an overture cause a breach in the relationship? He couldn’t risk that. Loukon would count on the innate goodness of the man, his Stoicism. There was no way he could survive in the world without the man’s patronage.
“I am still a slave, sir. And while I may have gone soft without manual labor for so long, I am happy to move myself in. And I have so little that it will give me time to help get the main house in order for you too.”
“You are determined to remain a slave, aren’t you?”
In fact, Loukon was deeply troubled. He had done the right thing, he knew. But in his heart of hearts, he’d rather the master had forbade it.
IN THE PREDAWN DARKNESS Loukon loaded his stuff onto the wagon he knew Diabolos would be driving, then helped pack assorted items from the house. When it came time to pull out, slaves crowding every available inch of the wagons, Loukon climbed up next to Diabolos.
“Big day ahead,” he said.
“Are you going to be jabbering the whole way? This is the middle of my night.”
“Sorry.”
“What are you doing here anyway? I would have thought you would have been awarded a purple robe and allowed to accompany the master himself. Fall out of his good graces? Don’t tell me he has relegated you back to slave quarters and slave status!”
“That has always been the case.”
“Oh, spare me! You have been found out! You proved slothful or sassy, didn’t you?”
Loukon fought to stay silent and to not even shake his head. Lowering himself to gain back some respect or trust was clearly not going to work with someone like Diabolos.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’ve been eliminated from the inner circle.” Diabolos threw an arm around Loukon’s shoulder and roughly pulled him close. “Well, don’t cry over it, man! I’ll show you the ropes! It’ll all come back to you. Did you get assigned my wagon? Because you know the driver is the overseer for the day, so you’ll have to do what I say when I say it.”
“Well, first I have to get moved in. And then I thought I would—”
“No, no. You’ll move in last. Your quarters won’t be going anywhere, will they? And then you don’t decide what you’ll do. I’ll let you know.”
“But I told the master I would help with the main house . . .”
“The main house has plenty of men assigned. I’ll use you where you will be of the most help.”
Maybe this returning to slave status wasn’t such a good idea after all. Part of Loukon wanted to take advantage of his relationship with the master and simply tell Diabolos off and do what he pleased. But no. He would serve the hurting man. And if that didn’t soften him, that was not Loukon’s problem.
When finally the caravan rumbled through the gates of the newly built estate at Daphne, the drivers asnd woman and a boy and a girl toiling in the gardens.
No one spoke, but slowly they climbed down from the wagons and approached, staring, gasping, whistling. It was clear this was the perfect gift from the master.
“This is where the memorial will be held tomorr—”
But Diabolos grabbed Loukon. “Tell me and I’ll tell them. You are not in charge here.”
“The memorial service will be conducted here at dawn tomorrow. The master will eulogize the dead.”
Diabolos gran
dly announced it to the rest of the slaves. “Now, let’s get to work!”
AT THE END OF THE DAY Loukon was finally free to move his own meager belongings into a slave’s chamber. He had been assigned to carry things everywhere but to the main house, and Diabolos seemed to gloat the whole time. Loukon was determined not to let it show that he was being humiliated, so he smiled often and worked quickly, though he was soon exhausted. The truth was, it had been too long since he had done manual labor. But he forced himself to keep pushing, hoping to prove that Diabolos could not get to him, let alone defeat him. In reality, however, he was seething and none too proud of himself for it.
Loukon was arranging the last of his study materials and putting his second tunic away when he heard the master’s family’s conveyances come through the gate. He took one last look at the spartan but more than adequate room that would be his until he left for university, then hurried out to welcome them.
Excited as he was about the future, this had been mostly a sad day for the majority of the slaves. They were clearly impressed with the statue and the lengths to which their master had gone to rebuild and make more comfortable their own accommodations. But returning to this place, even reuniting with family and friends, had to bring back the hard memories of their loss. It certainly did to Loukon.
Theophilus stood high in his carriage and merely thanked everyone for their help, reminding them to meet in front of the statue at dawn.
Loukon hurried back to his new quarters and had just dropped onto the bed when he was summoned to the main house.
“I thought you might want to see what we’ve done with the physician’s area,” Theophilus said.
Loukon was certain his surprise showed. “I would love to, but what made you think I had not already seen it?”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere, Luke. I am fully aware of how you were treated today, and how you responded. I am not a proponent of corporal punishment except in the most egregious circumstances, but all it would take is one word from you and I’d have that overseer flogged.”
“Oh, no. Thank you, sir, but it was not that bad. And I can only imagine what is weighing on his mind.”
“You’re a better man than I am,” Theophilus said.
If only that were true. The revenge Theophilus suggested sounded delicious. But how would Loukon have lived with himself if he had taken advantage of it? And what kind of a man was he to think he was honorable in declining it when down deize="3">“To understand the universe, one must become a true thinker. Imagine the spiritual sense of well-being you can achieve this way.”
“You have gained this?” Loukon said.
“I have. Peace has visited me, as practicing virtue and reason has allowed me to grasp natural law and shut out the noise of the world. Men who are slaves to their passions do not understand truth and that it is virtuous to pursue it.”
Recalling what Theophilus had once said about still struggling with certain vices, Loukon said, “So this belief, this practice, has rid you of immorality?”
Zeno allowed his eyes to drift from the window to Loukon’s face. With what the student assessed as a condescending look, he said, “Well, I can confidently say I am no longer bound to taboos, superstition, belief in myths, worship of gods, and the like. And I can detach myself from hurtful experiences, largely through loving all other beings.”
“You love all others?”
“Let me put it this way, lad: Stoicism presents a picture of the world as unified. Logic, ethics, physics all play a part. The key is to focus on living in harmony with the universe, over which we hold no sway.”
“Otherwise we’re victims of fate?”
“We are anyway. As I say, the secret is to harmonize with all these influences by living a life of self-control based on wisdom. Clehere are disparities in our accommodations and food. I suppose a true Stoic would allow his charges to live in his home and eat from his table. I must ask, Luke, what prompts your grin?”
“Oh, I apologize, sir. I do not intend to be rude.”
“No, no. Speak.”
“Well, it’s just that I was thinking that a true Stoic would free his slaves.”
Theophilus’s face clouded and he nodded. “We touched
on this once before. Freedom would not be profitable for every slave under my charge. Freeing them might do them more harm than good. Short of that, I want that my life be governed by my philosophy.”
“If I may pose one more question . . .”
“More than one, if you wish.”
“Thank you. I gather from my study that one of the chief aims of Stoicism is some higher plane of behavior. Am I being presumptuous in that?”
Theophilus rose and beckoned Loukon to walk with him. The lad followed him out of the house and into the twilight of the courtyard. “You’re wondering if I have made any progress in my attempts at controlling my own passions. How about you? Have you?”
“No, but neither have I formally adopted Stoicism as my own. Will you be requiring that of me?”
“I considered that, but I see many wonderful qualities in you anyway, as I have said. No, I believe I’ll leave such a decision up to you. Your education, your employment, your freedom will not hinge on such. What I desire for you in the long run—say, when you reach my age—is peace of mind. I wish that my philosophy would grant me that.”
“You do not have peace? You seem to.”
“I fear I am confiding too much, Luke, but I trust you.”
“I hope I have proven myself trustworthy.”
“So far. The fact is, that while I believe in the divine nature of the universe, I do not believe in God or the gods per se. The very idea seems to war against Stoicism.”
“Then what do you mean by divine nature?”
“Just that there seems to be a grand, overall logic to the universe. Things seem to make some sort of spiritual sense. And yet, though I live my life with all this in mind, working at self-control and virtue and logical thought, I have never seemed to master my own passions. I still seek my good over others’, I crave attention, I can be petty and jealous. And while I have been more than fortunate, enough never seems enough for me. You see what I’m saying?”
Loukon found a bench and requested permission to sit. “I understand, but if you do not worry about offending the gods and you foster a reputation of fairness and goodness, why no peace of mind? Only because you are overall l“I don’t know, Luke. I just don’t know. I had hoped Stoicism would make me a better man, put me on the journey of the Greek ideal. I have studied other pursuits, but Stoicism is as close as I have come to finding an acceptable way of living. The best I can say for myself is that I am striving.”
“Perhaps there is nothing more that can be said.”
“Perhaps, but you see how sad that is? I want to be truly worthy of my reputation as a good and decent man, not to simply be grateful that people think so. I know the real me, and I am not satisfied.”
“And thus you continue pursuing the noble path.”
“I have been doing that for too long to still be judging myself so inadequate.”
“Maybe you are being too hard on yourself.”
“I would like to think so, but even conceding that does not bring me the sense of satisfaction I long for. I can tell myself I am doing the best I can, but when it is not good enough to persuade even me that I am achieving the character I long for, it wears on me. I am no longer a young man. I see little hope.”
“You are despairing more than I realized.”
“And you wonder why I see so much hope in you?”
“Often, yes.”
“I am desperate that you become what I have not. You seem to have a natural virtue, a concern for others, an eager, inquisitive mind. So go off to the university committed to spend yourself for the benefit of others. Be the man I wish I were. If my only legacy is sponsoring a man for the world who will prove that altruism is attainable, maybe that will be enough.”
Loukon rose and laughed. “Forgive me, but you have laid on my shoulders a great weight of responsibility. What if it turns out that I am every bit as human as you, or even more so? If I fail, then what? All is lost?”
“You will not fail, Luke. You will achieve. You will make me proud.”
“I will give it my all. But as I told you long ago, I battle my own desires and passions as well.”
“But you’re young! That is part of maturing. I want to believe that if you understand what you’re striving for, you will be able to avoid the pitfalls I suffered. You can focus on the denial of your passions and the embracing of selflessness and service to mankind.”
Loukon rose and they walked back toward the main house. Loukon said, “Do you mean to lay on me the burden of all your disappointments and broken dreams?”
“No. And I apologize if it appears that way. Rather, I want you to know that I believe in you.”
PART TWO
THE STUDENT
NINE
For such a bright and successft size="3">EXCITED AS HE WAS and eager to get under way, Loukon had everything packed and stacked and ready to go when he retired that night. Sleep was nearly impossible. He was exhausted and yet longed for dawn when he would ride—with the master himself—all the way to the harbor.
Slumber finally overtook him, and he was stunned awake at a rooster’s crow. Loukon ran to bathe in a shallow pool, then dressed in one of his new sets of clothes and sandals, grabbed one of his boxes, and met the master at his covered carriage.
“Set that crate down,” Theophilus said. “No manual labor for you today. Diabolos, please load Loukon’s things.”
Diabolos gave Loukon a look and bowed to the master. “With pleasure, sir.”
When the driver had loaded everything, Diabolos leaped aboard and reached to help Theophilus up. As the master settled in back, Loukon boarded, but when he reached for Diabolos’s helping hand, the slave pulled it away.
As Loukon pulled back the curtain and found his place beside Theophilus, Diabolos grandly bowed low in an exaggerated manner that was not lost on the lad.
“Proceed,” Theophilus said, as Diabolos closed them in. The master whispered, “You can see how happy he is for you, treating you like a freeman.”
“Indeed,” Loukon said.
As the carriage jostled to the harbor, Loukon found himself strangely melancholy. His eager anticipation was quickly becoming dread of the unknown and longing for the comforts of his own home and daily routine. And there would be no turning back. He could not show these emotions before the very man who had bestowed all this upon him. Yet at the same time he knew this was a boundless opportunity, the first step on his journey to an entirely new life.
But a lump rose in his throat, and it was all he could do to dam his tears. As Theophilus spoke of opportunity and possibilities, Loukon pressed his lips together and nodded, grateful he was not required to speak.
At the harbor he and the master stood chatting as Diabolos loaded his stuff onto the ship. When Theophilus thanked Diabolos, he again bowed deeply and smiled—deviously, Loukon was sure—acting as if this chance to serve the master’s pet was his highest privilege.
Finally Loukon and Theophilus embraced. “I know you will apply yourself with all diligence,” the master said. “Safe travels.”
“I cannot thank you enough,” Loukon said, the tears finally coming. He was embarrassed until he saw Theophilus also weeping. How had he earned this man’s love?
“Thank me by doing me a favor,” the man said, his voice thick.
“Anything.”
“Drop your formal Greek name, at least among your new mates. Introduce yourself as Luke.”
“You don’t think they will take me less seriously?”
“Your scholarship will was notght="6">
“My people have much to teach.”
“Oh, I agree, despite that we oppose much Hellenistic thought. But I oppose nothing that might be of use in serving the God of Israel.”
“You speak of Him as you would speak of an actual person.”
Saul grinned. “Is it any wonder my elders are so wary of you Greeks? Of course He is an actual person. He is not like you and me, needless to say, thus we do not even spell out His name when
we write about Him. And in speech we refer to Him as Yahweh.”
“And how do you serve Him, as you say?”
“By knowing His history, loving His laws, following His statutes.”
“I have heard of the laws. Just out of curiosity, do they leave any time for other things?”
“Such as?”
“Recreation.”
“Do you mean to ask if I have any fun?”
Luke laughed. “That’s what I’m asking, yes.”