Mediterranean Hegemon of Ancient Greece Chapter 1033: Daionian Slaves

As the massage continued, Publius gradually relaxed. His involuntary groans quieted, replaced by a pleasant, lingering fatigue akin to the aftermath of a good workout, leaving him with an irresistible urge to drift into a deep sleep.

Then, the servant began to rhythmically slap his back with both hands, immediately snapping him awake. A moment later, the hands moved to massage his scalp. Publius half-closed his eyes, once again losing himself in the intoxicating sensation.

When the man finally stopped, Publius actually found himself longing for it to continue.

"My lord, I will scrub your back next," the servant said. He laid a clean cloth over Publius's back and began to rub vigorously against his skin.

This was an entirely different sensation from the previous pressing and slapping. As Publius carefully savored the feeling, the grime on his body was sloughed away.

The servant turned to take a bronze pitcher from the wall, opened the lid, and slowly poured its liquid over Publius.

Catching the familiar scent, Publius asked, "Is this olive oil?"

"Yes, my lord," the servant explained. "You just soaked in hot water and used the steam room. While that helps blood flow and expels dirt, it also causes your body to lose a lot of moisture. Applying olive oil will protect your skin..."

Publius sighed in admiration. "I never expected every step in this bathhouse to involve so much expertise!"

"Oh?" Publius's initial assumption wavered at Tibullus's words. "Aren't these two slaves?"

"They are slaves, but not ordinary slaves." Tibullus's deliberately mysterious reply only heightened Publius's curiosity.

Before he could ask, the servant massaging him volunteered, "My lord, the two of us come from Egypt. We are of mixed Egyptian and Greek descent..."

As he spoke, the servant used another clean cloth to rub the olive oil over Publius, spreading it evenly so it would seep into his skin. Because the movements were much gentler now, the work did not hinder their conversation.

Although he had never been to Egypt, Publius knew of the distant country. He had heard the people there had dark skin, but these two had a fairly standard complexion, clearly due to their mixed heritage. At this time, Rome had not yet expanded beyond the western Mediterranean. Even the patriarch of a great clan like Publius had never owned an Egyptian slave, so he didn't understand: why were Egyptian slaves anything but ordinary?

Had he strolled through the bustling slave market on the eastern side of Thurii's outer district, he would have learned that the price of an ordinary Egyptian slave was much higher than those of other origins. This was driven by demand. First, Egyptian male slaves were excellent farmers and herdsmen, while the women were clever, docile, and skilled at teaching grooming and makeup. Second, Egyptian slaves deeply worshipped the gods; their mild temperaments meant they passively endured hardships, making them relatively safe. Furthermore, Egypt was far from Daionia, and the two nations had never clashed, meaning there was no ingrained hatred. Egyptian slaves had no ties to the races and factions surrounding Daionia, making them trustworthy to employ. Considering that the Kingdom Guest House hosted foreign dignitaries, the Senate prioritized security above all else. Finally, they needed slaves who could speak Greek and did not have overly dark skin, lest they frighten the unsophisticated envoys from certain mountain tribes. Thus, they took great pains to select mixed-blood slaves of Egyptian and Greek descent.

"How many years have you been in Thurii?" Tibullus asked casually.

"Over four years already!" the younger slave said with a trace of resentment. "Based on our past performance, we should have earned our freedom after last year's Festival of Hades. But the officials from the Slave Administration Office told us that because the war had caused a labor shortage, the release of kingdom slaves was suspended for a year. They promised to double the quota for freeing slaves at this year's festival and provide us with compensation. But if the war is still going on by October—"

"Wenufer, don't talk so much. Focus on the massage!" the slave tending to Publius interrupted. He then pleaded softly, "My lords, his daughter came down with a fever yesterday and is currently being treated at the hospital. It has affected his mood. I hope you will not take his words to heart."

Tibullus tilted his head up to look at the slave standing beside him. He stared until the man grew anxious and fearful, then slowly asked, "Since you have been in Thurii for over four years, and right here in the Kingdom Guest House, you should know what these envoys praise most about our Kingdom of Daunia?"

The younger servant tensed, momentarily at a loss for words. The older servant hurriedly answered, "Keeping promises."

"Exactly, keeping promises!" Tibullus said in a deep voice. "What the Slave Administration Office told you was a decision made by the Senate. Rest assured, by this year's festival, you will regain your freedom, and you will undoubtedly receive your compensation. Besides, your massage skills are excellent. The two of us have no complaints."

Hearing this, the two slaves shed tears of gratitude and repeatedly voiced their thanks.

The younger slave excitedly offered, "My lord, let me massage you one more time!"

Tibullus waved his hand. "No need. It's time to scrape my body."

The young servant could only turn around, fetch the curved, blunt blade from the wall, and press it against Tibullus's back.

Publius jumped in fright and shouted urgently, "Stop! What are you trying to do?!"

Tibullus laughed loudly and said, "Lord Publius, don't be nervous. This tool is used to scrape away the oil and dirt from the body. It is the final step of the bathhouse massage."

"Is it?" Publius remained half in doubt, but he soon experienced it for himself. Having his body lightly scraped with the blunt blade didn't hurt at all; instead, it felt incredibly soothing.

Once the massage concluded, the slaves helped the two men to their feet and opened the adjacent wooden door.

As they left the room, Tibullus specifically said to the young servant, "May Hades bless you, and may your daughter recover soon!"

The slave was instantly overwhelmed with emotion and thanked Tibullus once more.

Out of the slaves' sight, Publius could not help but mutter in amazement, "Tibullus, you treat those slaves far too well!"

Tibullus, however, spoke with a stern expression. "Lord Publius, I know you Romans are rather harsh on your slaves, but I advise you to change your attitude toward them in the future. Here in Daionia, a slave's life and safety are protected by law. The kingdom has even established a specialized department to manage them—"

"The Slave Administration Office?" Publius blurted out the new term he had just heard.

"Correct. Whether they are kingdom slaves or private slaves, they all must register with the Slave Administration Office and accept its supervision. Not only that, but if you abuse a slave, you will face public condemnation, and it will affect your political career, because the fair and just God Hades protects them.

"Furthermore, the kingdom is not like Rome. A slave will not remain a slave forever. As long as a slave has ambition and is willing to work hard, they can gain their freedom, become a Daionian Citizen, pass the examinations, take public office, and eventually become a minister of the kingdom... All of this is possible. Several of the officials appointed to Rome this time were once slaves themselves. Marigi, the Minister of Commerce in the Senate, who is deeply trusted by His Majesty, was also once a slave. Therefore, you must never insult a slave thoughtlessly!"

Publius was deeply moved.

"By the way, my lord, how do you feel after the massage?" Tibullus asked.

"My whole body feels a bit sore..." Publius flexed his arms and legs, adding, "But... it really is comfortable. I almost fell asleep just now. My entire body feels so much lighter!"

"According to the doctors, that means your body is stiff from a lack of exercise. You will need frequent massages in the future to ensure your health..." Tibullus said, half-joking and half-serious.

Hearing this, Publius asked earnestly, "Is it expensive to visit a bathhouse in Thurii?"

"The public bathhouses aren't expensive; admission is about one or two obols. But a specialized massage costs quite a bit more, roughly ten to fifteen obols a session... However, some Senators, ministers, and wealthy merchants in the kingdom specifically pay to have their own slaves learn at the hospitals and bathhouses, so they can return and massage them. This has already become quite a trend."

Publius was greatly tempted by the idea. Soon after, he asked with a bit of reluctance, "Is our bath over, then?"

"There is one final step—" Tibullus pushed open the wooden door to reveal another pool in the room. "The cold bath." Cold water!

Had it been before entering the bathhouse, Publius would have definitely steered clear of it. But right now, after the steam room and the massage, not only was he burning up inside, but his skin was also flushed red, making him look like a steamed shrimp. Thus, upon hearing the words "cold water," he strode into the pool without a second thought. The icy water immediately banished the searing heat from his body, and his pores rapidly tightened, giving him an indescribable sense of refreshment.

He could not help but say, "How wonderful it would be to have a cup of wine right now!"

Tibullus stepped into the pool as well. "We were in too much of a rush today. Tomorrow night, I will bring you a jug of Thurii's finest wine, and we can drink to our hearts' content in the bathhouse."

"That would be fantastic!" Publius scrubbed away the remaining oil on his body with the clear water, praising loudly, "Thurii's bathhouse is even better than you described, and Thurii is far more prosperous than Rome. It makes me want to move here right away!"

Tibullus smiled slightly. It seemed his efforts had not been in vain.