Dinner that evening was the usual happy mob with a place at the table for anyone who cared to join, and that included most of the workers of the estate, as well as any visitors who happened by. Unlike most estate owners, Epiphanius had no slaves. His workers were all freedmen. Many, he had bought from the slave markets as most estate owners would do, but since the time he believed in Christus, he took to setting them free. Then he would offer them each a job, and they became clients of his patronage. A few had saved up enough to set off on their own and start their own trades.
Such was Quintus, who dropped by this evening. He only stopped by to say hello, but when Epiphanius and Johanna insisted, he accepted a seat at the table. Always full of stories of the sea, Quintus had everyone at the table laughing, including Nicholas. He seemed more like an uncle or a cousin than a former slave. It was hard for Nicholas to imagine him in chains when his father first bought him. Quintus bore himself as if he had always been free.
After a while, Quintus had to leave and Nicholas offered to see him out. A question weighed heavily in Nicholas’ mind. When they reached the door, he said, “Quintus?”
“Yes.”
“Were you always like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“So full of laughter.”
“No,” said Quintus. “When I was a slave, I was full of dread and anger. The only end I could see before me was death.”
“How much did my father pay for you?”
Quintus frowned. “That is not a question to ask. Your father has paid more for some than for others, but all of us, he treats as brothers.”
“I’m sorry,” said Nicholas. Then he ventured to ask further, “Do you remember what my father said when he bought you?”
Quintus grinned. “I remember well. He said, ‘I have bought your freedom in the name of Christus. Use it to honor him.’ I asked him who Christus was, and he said, ‘The one who bought my freedom.’ Then he invited me to come and work for him.”
“Did you think of just walking away?”
Quintus shook his head. “Anyone who would pay for my freedom, I owed him at least some work. And I had to know more of this Christus who would buy a slave his freedom.”
Nicholas smiled to think of what his father had done.
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Such was Quintus, who dropped by this evening. He only stopped by to say hello, but when Epiphanius and Johanna insisted, he accepted a seat at the table. Always full of stories of the sea, Quintus had everyone at the table laughing, including Nicholas. He seemed more like an uncle or a cousin than a former slave. It was hard for Nicholas to imagine him in chains when his father first bought him. Quintus bore himself as if he had always been free.
After a while, Quintus had to leave and Nicholas offered to see him out. A question weighed heavily in Nicholas’ mind. When they reached the door, he said, “Quintus?”
“Yes.”
“Were you always like this?”
“What do you mean?”
“So full of laughter.”
“No,” said Quintus. “When I was a slave, I was full of dread and anger. The only end I could see before me was death.”
“How much did my father pay for you?”
Quintus frowned. “That is not a question to ask. Your father has paid more for some than for others, but all of us, he treats as brothers.”
“I’m sorry,” said Nicholas. Then he ventured to ask further, “Do you remember what my father said when he bought you?”
Quintus grinned. “I remember well. He said, ‘I have bought your freedom in the name of Christus. Use it to honor him.’ I asked him who Christus was, and he said, ‘The one who bought my freedom.’ Then he invited me to come and work for him.”
“Did you think of just walking away?”
Quintus shook his head. “Anyone who would pay for my freedom, I owed him at least some work. And I had to know more of this Christus who would buy a slave his freedom.”
Nicholas smiled to think of what his father had done.
Click here to go to beginning of the book
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