He was eleven years old.
His brothers Marius and Marcus stood in front of him with bored looks on their faces while their father uncoiled the leather whip.
Zarek was already tense, knowing all too well the stinging pain he was about to receive.
"I don't care how many lashes you give him, Father," Marius said. "I'm not sorry for insulting Maximillius and I intend to do it again the next time I see him."
Their father stopped moving. "What if I told you this pitiful slave was your brother? Would you care then?"
The two boys burst out laughing. "This wretch? There is no Roman blood in him."
His father moved forward. He buried his hand in Zarek's hair and pulled his head up so that his brothers could see his scarred face. "Are you sure he's not related?"
They stopped laughing.
Zarek held himself completely still, unable to breathe. He'd always known of his parentage. He was reminded of it every day when the other slaves spat in his food and threw things at him or hit him because they dared not take their anger and hatred out on the rest of his family.
"What are you saying, Father?" Marius asked.
His father shoved Zarek's head against the post, then let go of him. "I sired him on your uncle's favorite whore. Why do you think he was sent to me as an infant?"
Marius curled his lip. "He is no brother of mine. Better I should claim Valerius than this scab."
Marius approached Zarek. He bent down, trying to make Zarek meet his gaze.
With no other recourse, Zarek closed his eyes. He'd learned a long time ago that to look his brothers in the face would mean an even harsher beating.
"What say you, slave? Have you any Roman blood in you?"
Zarek shook his head no.
"Are you my brother?"
Again he shook his head.
"Are you calling my noble father a liar then?"
Zarek froze as he realized he'd been tricked by them again. Panicking, he tried to pull away from the post. He wanted to run away from what would come over this.
"Are you?" Marius demanded.
He shook his head.
But it was too late. The whip cut through the air with a frightening hiss and bit into his back, slicing through his bared flesh.
Zarek came awake shaking. He struggled to breathe as he scrambled to sit up and look about wildly, half-expecting one of his brothers to be here.
"Zarek?"
He felt the warmth of a tender hand on his back.
"Are you all right?"
He couldn't speak as old memories flared inside him. From the moment Marius and Marcus had learned the truth until the day Zarek's father had bribed a slaver to take him, his brothers had gone out of their way to make Zarek pay for the fact they were related.
He had never known a single day of peace.
Beggar, peasant, or noble, they were all better than him.