"Urinatores," he said on a laugh. "A salvage diver. We dove down as far as thirty meters with nothing but a diving bell with air trapped in it that we could breathe out of as we worked. Once it ran out we had to surface and trap fresh air to go back down. A dangerous job for mortals, but not for me, which is why I made out so well monetarily."
"From there I landed in China where I ended up becoming a praegustator for a decade for Emperor Qin Shi Huang. I pretasted food to test it for poison," Domitian explained, and then added, "Another very dangerous job had I been mortal since the emperor wasn't well liked. But I was immortal, so . . ." He shrugged. "I was well paid while there, which is part of the reason I stayed a full decade, but it was also because I found I quite liked food."
"You didn't like it before that?" she asked with amusement.
"Oh, yes. Well, sometimes. Soldiers did not exactly eat gourmet meals, and I was not much of a cook myself so my time as a urinatores was not very educational in that regard, but the emperor had proper cooks and he did like his food. And so did I. The food there was new and different. I decided I wanted to travel around and try food from other cultures. So, despite being offered a great deal of coin to stay, I left and started my wandering, looking to try different foods and such. At least until I started to lose my taste for food."
"When was that?" she asked at once.
Domitian sighed and thought back. "I guess it started when I was about a hundred and eighty or so. I began to eat less and less frequently, and five years later at the celebration of Ptolemy XII's accession was the last time I actually enjoyed food."
"And the last time you had sex," she said.
Domitian nodded. "The two appetites often dwindle away together."
"Why?" she asked at once.
Domitian shrugged helplessly. "It happens to all immortals eventually. I actually held on to my appetites longer than some of my kind. I think because I traveled around and tried various and exotic foods."
"And various and exotic women?" she suggested sourly.
"Si," he said unapologetically, and then added, "All of whom are long dead and turned to dust so no longer worth your jealousy."
"I'm not jealous!" Sarita protested at once, but wasn't sure she was telling the truth. She'd certainly felt the pinch of something as she'd brought up his exotic women. Damn, I am jealous, she realized and took another drink from her bottle.
Lowering it, she squinted at him and asked, "So what else did you do besides urinating and gladiorating?"
"Urinatores," Domitian corrected on a laugh, and then added, "I do not think gladiorating is a word."
"Eh . . ." Sarita waved that away with unconcern. "So, what else did you do?" she demanded.
Domitian shrugged. "Once I lost my appetites, I bounced between farming, traveling as a trade merchant, and opening and running pubs or hostels, with the occasional mercenary work thrown in to keep practiced in defense."
"What kind of mercenary work?"
"I was a dragoon for a while," he said after thinking for a moment.
"What? You guys suck blood and blow fire?"
"Dragoon, not dragon," he said on a laugh. "A dragoon is a musketeer on horseback."
"Ooooh," Sarita breathed, impressed. "Musketeers are cool. I bet you were hot with long hair and those froufrou hats."
"Froufrou hats?" he asked, sounding affronted.
"Well, you know, with the wide brim and the feathers all poking out of it," she said, waving her hands around her head to show him what she meant. "Most guys wouldn't be able to carry it off, but I bet you did. Just like I bet you carried off that Egyptian skirt thing nicely too."
When Domitian merely stared at her with a bemused expression, Sarita asked, "Were you ever a pirate? I could see you as a pirate. All tight black pants and billowy shirt and long sword."
Domitian nodded slowly. "Si. As it happens I did do a brief stint as a pirate."
"No!" Sarita breathed with amazement. "Oh, you were naughty!"
"In my defense it was only for a year or so to aid my sister, Alexandrina. She was short a couple men on her ship, so I put in with her for a while to help out."
"Your sister was a pirate captain?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Well, technically, Drina was a privateer," Domitian admitted.
"Ah, pirating with permission," Sarita said, nodding wisely, and then asked, "Any other jobs that were exciting? Were you ever a knight?"
"I was knighted three or four times," he admitted, and then explained, "In a different country each time."