by Nhys Glover
‘I understand your decision not to fight to entertain them. I was sold into the arena, too, and only chose to fight and kill so I could stay alive long enough to rescue my mistress, Livia. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have given them the spectacle. Those blood-crazed bastards are below contempt.’
Decaneus glanced at the Nubian in surprise. That Nexus felt as he did surprised him. As a man who’d earned his freedom and seemed well versed in Roman ways, he’d assumed Nexus had been born into Roman slavery and had never thought to challenge the Imperial way of life. Now he started to realise his assumption was wrong.
‘You weren’t born a slave?’
‘No. I was raised beyond the reaches of the empire and left home when I was barely a man. Fourteen summers old. But I was as tall as I am now and thought I was more of a man than I actually was. I ended up as a pirate, and when the Romans finally caught us, I was sold into slavery. I was bought by a degenerate bastard and ran his household for him. Until Livia came along.’
‘You loved her?’
Nexus shot him an exasperated look as he grunted. ‘Have you seen Livia? What man with blood in his veins wouldn’t love her? But when she joined the household, I came to know her handmaiden, Niobe, and it was to her I gave my heart.’
‘Because you couldn’t have Livia?’ Decaneus was surprised by his own question. He was not one to probe others for their deepest secrets, but somehow this man’s story had become important to him. He needed to understand.
‘No. Because Niobe was my soul. We were brought together by our mutual love for Livia and our common desire to see her safe. It felt like Niobe was the other part of me… I can’t explain it. We just became one being in two bodies as we sought to save Livia from Festus. My love for Livia was different. She was a goddess incarnate who deserved to be adored and protected. I desired her. What man wouldn’t? But I felt no jealousy when she found love with Allyn. It was right. Just as Niobe was right for me.’
‘But she died.’
Nexus buried his head in his hands as he leaned against the railing. ‘Yes, she died. We were together such a short time. Months… little more than months… and yet I feel the hole she left inside me like a gaping wound that won’t heal. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I wanted to know about the lion.’
Decaneus was more affected than he expected by his companion’s sharing. It made him uncomfortable to have such emotions expressed in front of him, and yet it didn’t reduce Nexus in his eyes. A weaker man might have seemed pitiful talking in such a way; Nexus seemed to gain more gravity. He wasn’t needy, even if he had been well on the way to killing himself with drink a little over a month ago. His inner strength seemed to remain untouched.
‘When I was young, maybe six or seven, my half-brother tried to strangle me with a piece of washing. When I was trying to come up with a way to fight the lion, I remembered that. All I had was my loincloth and memories of watching cats in the stables. I thought the lion might react as cats did. So I ran at it and startled it so it turned away, looking for escape. I jumped on its back, wrapped the cloth around its neck and held on until I’d strangled the life out of him. I got a broken leg and some claw marks for my trouble. I was lucky. Bendis, our Goddess of the Moon and the hunt was with me that day. It was she who put the idea into my head and gave me the strength to hang on.’
‘My people call her Neith. I earned her enmity when I went after a lioness without proper sanction. My best friend died.’
‘I’d never seen a lion before that day. It must have been harrowing to live in a land where such creatures roamed free.’
‘Life is dangerous no matter where you live. Haven’t you learned that yet, Dacian?’ Nexus grinned. For the first time he seemed to relax.
‘You might be right. I imagine this family we go to rescue doesn’t realise the extent of the danger that’s awaiting them.’
‘I’m sure they don’t.’
Gnaeus Arrius Antoninus reclined on his couch as his Parthian slave fed him peeled and pitted grapes. He barely tasted their sweetness. His mind was on other things. Tonight his plans would finally come to fruition. Tonight he would force Galeria’s hand and she would have no other recourse but to accept him.
Nobody rejected him and got away with it. Not the bullies who had seen him as an easy target in his childhood, nor his arrogant sister who thought she was better than him because she had beauty and charm. Each of those bullies had met their end in horrifying ways thanks to him, and his sister had found herself covered with boils that, when they finally cleared up, left her scarred and ugly. Cultivating an apothecary in Rome had provided him with his unusual and effective methods of revenge back then.
But Galeria was a different matter. He didn’t want to revenge himself on her for her slight. He wanted her bound to him, under his control for the rest of her life. He wanted her body to use as he saw fit, and he could think of many ways he wanted to use her – disgusting ways that a virtuous Roman lady would never accept. He would force her to do them and then revel in her disgust.
He’d thought it would be a simple matter of asking for her hand. He was, after all, the son of a powerful and influential man. Marriage to him would be seen as a step up the social ladder for someone like Galeria. But the girl didn’t care for such things, and neither did her father, so his offer was rejected – many times.
In the end, he’d had to come up with a different plan to get what he wanted. While ever Galeria had the protection of her father, he didn’t have a chance with her. But if something were to happen to her father – say, he was arrested for sedition against the new Emperor – then she would have to come to him for help and protection.
It had taken little to pass the word to Rome. His father was easily manipulated. All he had to do was voice his concerns about some of what he was learning from Donicus. His father, as Proconsul of Asia, took it from there, and tonight all his work would finally come to fruition. Tonight, Donicus would disappear from the picture and Galeria would have nowhere else to turn than to him. It was all so perfect.
He bit down on another grape and felt the juice explode in his mouth. In that moment, it was another kind of juice he imagined in his mouth. His manhood hardened at the delicious thought.
Cyra lay back on the warm green metal of the giant’s palm as Helios himself sank below the hills behind them. She watched with amusement as Gali tried to wrap her arms around the width of the fallen god’s vertical thumb. The hand was so big that five people could have sat comfortably with her in the palm, and the thumb was so thick, it took the tallest man with the longest arms to surround it so their fingertips met.
But Gali wanted to try, even though she knew it was impossible. She thought that if she could just do this one thing, it would prove that she was big enough to recline for meals on a divan like the rest of her family. So she struggled on, her body pressed hard against the bronze digit, face scrunched up from the effort.
‘You’ll hurt yourself if you keep that up,’ Cyra warned with a little laugh.
‘I only need another inch… just a little more.’ The girl gasped as her lungs were compressed so tightly she couldn’t draw in breath.
‘Another two hands width you mean. What if I helped you? We could do it together!’
‘No, that would be cheating. I have to do it myself.’ The child finally gave up, flounced back over to her tutor and sat down.
‘One day you’ll have arms as long as an ape’s and you’ll be able to do it easily,’ Cyra said teasingly. She reached over and knocked the arm the girl was leaning on out from under her. Gali let herself flop back with a tinny clang onto the metal.
‘Why does the head have all those spikes?’ Gali said, forgetting her funk for the moment as a new question entered her mind. She was staring at the head of the Colossus that was half hidden by the waters in the bay. It looked like someone was drowning – the handsome male face frozen in stern denial of its fate.
‘You know the answer to that. Who is he?�
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‘Sol. Or Helios to the Achaeans’.
‘And he is the god of what?’
‘The sun of course! Oh, I see. They represent the rays of the sun, is that right?’
‘Yes, you have worked it out for yourself. Well done. You often know the answers to your own questions you just don’t always know where to look.’
‘You’re far more knowledgeable than Galeria. She thinks she’s so smart being Pater’s assistant, but all she teaches those silly children is how to count well enough to make sure the shopkeeper isn’t cheating them. Or how to read simple parchments. It’s baby stuff.’ The girl blew a dark brown curl out of her grey eyes. In that moment, they looked almost silver, with the dark rim around the iris accentuating the pale colour within. This family’s eyes fascinated Cyra, used as she was to seeing brown and hazel eyes in the faces around her.
She’d made a study of the family’s eyes. Gali’s were a shade lighter than her sister’s and most closely resembled her father’s. Papia had dark blue-grey eyes. She wondered what colour the missing brother’s eyes would be. Would they be more like his mother’s or father’s? It was likely she’d find out soon, as young Appius was expected home for a visit in a few weeks before he took up his judicial position in Ephesus.
‘You’re lucky you have your own tutor who can teach you faster than a class would allow. Your sister could teach you a great deal if she only had you as her pupil,’ she said to the child, bringing her mind back to the topic of conversation.
‘I like it that I get to go on adventures with you. Galeria would make me sit inside with scrolls all day. You make everything a lesson. Like the wild flowers. I bet Galeria doesn’t know all their names like you do. Or like I do now. And I bet she hasn’t seen all the butterflies we have. That secret valley we found was beautiful.’
‘Stop it, Gali! Your sister is not your competition. She loves you more than anyone and she deserves your loyalty in return.’
‘You have to be loyal because you’re her slave and she saved your life. I don’t have to be loyal because she’s never done anything for me.’ The girls’ voice was now sulky and tinged with tiredness. Cyra had kept her out too long. It was time to go.
‘Come on Petal, time to go. It will be getting late by the time we get home. Your mother will be wondering where you are.’ Cyra stood up and held out her hand to the girl.
Galerianna took the proffered hand and scrambled to her feet. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘What?’ Cyra asked as she jumped down off the palm of the fallen god and then reached up her arms so that Gali could jump into them. The girl launched herself into the air, confident Cyra would catch her.
‘Those scars on your chest. I can see the bumps in the material. I think it must hurt.’ The child pressed her head against Cyra’s chest as they hugged.
‘It hurt a lot at the time, but now it just feels tight. Like someone’s wrapped a rope around my chest. It doesn’t hurt, I promise you.’
For a moment longer, the girl just held her tight, as if to convey comfort in the only way she knew how. Then Gali released her and skipped away.
Cyra was too overcome to move as her eyes filled with tears. It was such a small gesture from the child. But she knew it was one of true concern. It touched her more deeply than she expected.
In that moment, she loved that child more than she’d ever loved anyone.
CHAPTER SIX
Antoninus scrambled to keep up with the special force of Imperial guards as they jogged in formation along the road to the Donicus’ villa rustica. The deep shadows of dusk were upon them, and few people were to be found travelling the road after sunset.
The heat was oppressive, even this late in the day. Antoninus felt the sweat trickling down his spine, and he had to wipe it from his forehead before it dripped into his eyes. He shouldn’t have come. He should have distanced himself from this terrible action, but the temptation to see firsthand the effects of his handwork had been too great.
They were moving steadily upward now, along the undulating hills that extended inland from the sea. Those hills were covered with coarse grass that fed the goats and fallow deer. They weren’t verdant green like the hills around Rome, but grey-green, as if the sun had bleached most of the colour from their stalks.
He could see Donicus’ villa on the hillside ahead, where lights were already glowing in readiness for the night.
The stern faces of the Praetorian Guard seemed to become harsher still as they climbed. Puffing hard, Antoninus couldn’t help comparing himself to the washed-up jellyfish he’d once seen lying beside a piece of the fallen bronze Colossus. These men were as hard as he was soft.
The Praetorians were inhuman warriors. What if they did more than took Donicus captive? They might also think nothing of injuring the women who would surely try to get in their way.
Pushing himself harder, he increased his pace. He was falling farther and farther behind. If he wasn’t there to supervise, these cold men might kill Galeria, and then all his well-laid plans would come to nothing. He needed to be there to save her. It might be enough to finally earn him her love, or at least her hand.
The first of the six soldiers slammed through the front door. Antoninus heard a shriek of surprise, and then more terrified cries, as the intruders moved one after the other farther into the house. The last of the guards was through the door before he had a chance to follow, and already the air was thick with the metallic stench of blood.
Who had they killed? There wasn’t meant to be bloodshed!
He looked around the atrium in panic. He could see the guards systematically separating out, moving down the corridors into all corners of the villa, searching for prey. On the tiled floor next to the impluvium a male slave lay, his white tunic stained red with blood. His eyes stared sightlessly at Antoninus, condemning him for his actions.
Panic pushed its way from his chest to his throat. This wasn’t going how he’d planned it at all. These men were not here to take Donicus into custody. They were here to destroy the house and all who dwelled within it. Where was Galeria? He had to find her before she too was killed.
This was not what he wanted!
As he headed for the Triclinium where he knew the family would be eating their evening meal, his heart kicked up a beat. The sweat of fear joined that of heat and rolled off him in rivers. It stung his eyes and made his vision blurry.
He could hear more screams from deeper inside the villa and then the sound of running feet. Everywhere was chaos. Several male slaves had come at the soldiers with swords and were dealt with immediately. They fell where they stood, their blood pooling around them.
Was that Orpheus, that muscle-bound slave who always seemed to be at Galeria’s side? Yes, he was sure it was! Could Galeria be far away if this man had come forward to protect her?
When he entered the dining room, he saw Papia, with Galerianna clutched against her chest, cowering in the corner. Her face was a mask of horrified incomprehension. The child sobbed hysterically in her arms. Several female slaves lay on the tiles in front of them.
On the couch, where he’d obviously been reclining at the time of the attack, Donicus lay still, his tunic and toga stained red in the lamplight. Dead. They’d murdered his teacher in cold blood. This was far worse than he’d expected. Far worse than he’d wanted!
Where was Galeria? Was her little Amazon handmaiden one of those lying dead on the floor? He tried to get a better look at the crumpled figures. The Parthian was usually easy to recognise. Her breathtakingly beautiful, sloe-eyed face and raven black hair were as unmistakeable as her unnaturally flat chest. But the women slaves had fallen onto their faces, so all he could see was dark hair. None had hair as dark as the Parthian’s.
If she wasn’t among the dead, where was she? With her mistress. Always with her mistress, except when Galeria was at the ludus.
He spun around. Only minutes had passed since they’d charged into the villa. It felt like hours. His senses were ov
erloaded with the horror he was witnessing. Three more of the guards entered the room. That meant they were all here together now.
Had they found Galeria somewhere else in the villa and dispatched her? No, that couldn’t be! He wouldn’t have it. She was his! These damned monsters couldn’t take what was his! He wouldn’t allow it. They would pay. He would make them pay!
‘Where is the daughter of the house?’ he demanded, finding his courage as his fury intensified.
One guard looked to the leader before answering. ‘There are no other high-born women in the house. We also checked the yard. We’ve dispatched only slaves.’
‘No breastless slave?’
The soldier looked surprised for a moment and then shook his head.
He turned to the sobbing woman. ‘Then where are they? Papia, where is your daughter?’
The woman just stared at him as if she had no idea what he was saying. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up onto her feet. ‘Answer me! Where is Galeria? Do you want the same thing to happen to her as has happened here? Tell me, woman!’
‘She and Cyra went down to swim,’ the child answered instead, her voice high with terror.
‘Swim? Alone?’
‘Yeee…s. They should be back by now. I… I wanted to go but they wouldn’t let me…’ The child broke into more tears.
‘Go down to the sea. Find the girl and bring her to me!’ Antoninus demanded of the Praetorians.
‘We don’t answer to you. Our task was to dispose of the threat to the empire. It has been done. There were to be no witnesses. Any not here tonight are safe.’ The leader turned to one of the Praetorians closest to Papia. ‘Dispose of the woman and child.’
At the order, Galeria’s mother screamed pitifully.
‘NO! Leave them. I’ll take them hostage. They’ll tell no one what happened here,’ Antoninus yelled, his frustration and fury knowing no bounds. He knew spit flew from his mouth as he shouted at the Praetorian leader but he didn’t care.