“So how do you like my farm” the merchant beamed.

Caesar scanned the scene, scattered around the villa and outbuildings were many misshapen fields marked only with ditches and small stone walls. They contained an eclectic mix of cereal, vegetable and livestock. As vines merged with grain, so cattle mixed with goat. To the south of the only access road was a disorganised orchard of apple interspersed with pear, and citrus fruits. Each field was being tended by at least 20 workers, boys and girls from as young as five or six, to teenagers, maybe fourteen or fifteen.

“I must admit I am confused as to what kind of farm it is.” He replied, “I fail to see how you produce enough to feed this army of workers and have anything left over to sell.”

The merchant laughed, a deep self satisfied chuckle “A common mistake my friend, my farm does not produce food, but people”

Caesar’s face creased in bewilderment. “This is a slave farm ?”

“Yes” The merchants face glowed with delight, as his guest realised quite where is was. “come to the Villa I shall explain.”

They started to walk along the dusty path, as they did Caesar looked about himself in wonderment as he listened to the merchants tale.

“There I was a simple brothel keeper, scraping a living in the city. Every so often one of my girls would get pregnant, then calamity, patrons would no longer want her. True I could send her to the apothecary for some silphium, but at what risk, she might die. Then not only would I be one girl down, but would need to dispose of the remains, so I decided I would bring them here”

“Why? She would still not be working, not earning” he inquired

“For half a year maybe, but then once the child was born she could return to work. I retired two of my oldest madams and left the children in their care”

“But that still leaves you with extra mouths to feed”

“Only for a while, after a few years I bought the child back to work in the house, cleaning and such. The real turning point was when I entertained some visitors from the eastern isles, they bought the young ones from me. From then on I realised how I could profit from such accidents.”

“But they are unchained, what stops them from escaping”

Again the merchant laughed “Each other” he exclaimed “The nearest town is over a days walk from here, the next nearest two days I the opposite direction. My slaves know if they run they will be caught, and when returned put to the sword, but only after another is also killed as accomplice.”

Caesar stopped silent, the merchant continued “Anyone will do, but none will run as they know they will die, and none will allow another to run, lest they are chosen to die too.”

Caesar balked at the horrific simplicity of it. Clearly the merchant saw himself as some kind of benevolent master, rather than the monstrous tyrant he really was.

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