The Chariots Slave

by Lynn, R.

  would not notice, she quickly covered them with her hands. “Yes, as does Accalia,” Vettius answered.

  The events of this morning had forced her thoughts away

  from her friend. She now wondered how Accalia had fared in

  a new place. Sellah hoped she had not crossed paths with

  Acestes. If he had laid one hand on her, Sellah would make

  him regret it.

  “Is Accalia well?” she asked as she fought to restrain her

  worst fears.

  “Yes, thankfully. She attends to the horses. Shall we see

  her as well?”

  “Could we, Vettius?” Saying the old tonsor’s name

  seemed odd to Sellah. She was so used to calling him the old

  tonsor that it felt as though Vettius was an unsuitable name. “But of course. First, let us get our jewel all shiny and new

  once more. Then we can be on our way to visit our loved

  ones.”

  He helped her sit up and was patient with her as she

  struggled to slide her legs over the side of the bed. Her body

  protested with jabs of pain, not wanting to move from its

  cloud-like resting place.

  But Sellah was driven to push on; she had to see Accalia

  and Simeon. So she put on her brave face and made sure no

  sign of her true discomfort was evident.

  W ith Vettius’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist, Sellah limped toward the stables. A beautiful creature with a mane of dark curls pushed open the stable doors. Sellah’s heart swelled with relief; Accalia seemed unharmed. She walked with confidence and determination, and Sellah wondered how in just one day Accalia could seem so settled.

  The sounds of their feet on the stone ground attracted Accalia’s attention. She turned to them and on seeing Sellah threw her bucket to the floor and ran toward her.

  “Sellah! Oh thank the gods you’re all right!” Accalia’s hands fluttered as she looked over her friend.

  “A few bruises, but other than that I fare very well.” Sellah smiled in relief at seeing her friend.

  “I see you have been reacquainted with Vettius,” Accalia beamed as she exchanged a look with the tonsor. “Come let us go to Simeon. I was just on my way to fetch him fresh water.” Accalia wedged herself in support under Sellah’s arm.

  The trio made their way through the stables to the medicos’ tent where Simeon was recovering. As they pushed back the heavy fabric door to enter, Sellah was met with a damp smell of old blood.

  Simeon twisted his head, straining to see who it was. “Sellah, I didn’t know you would be coming,” he said as he struggled to pull the covers over his damaged back.

  “Simeon, please, leave it. You are hurting yourself,” Sellah pleaded. “I have seen such wounds before; my stomach is strong,” she lied as she gripped her side to steady her nerves.

  He smiled at her and dropped his arms in surrender. “I am relieved to see you well, Sellah. I was afraid that Acestes had caused irreparable damage to you.” His eyes studied her with a kindness and sincerity she had not anticipated from someone so recently a stranger.

  But despite the fact that they had only known each other for only handful of days, Sellah felt a kinship with Simeon. They had been broken together, and he had saved her from her worst fear, Barachius.

  She pulled away from Vettius and Accalia and went to Simeon’s side. She squeezed out a wet cloth from his bedside table and gently placed it on Simeon’s exposed wounds. He flinched at the pain but held back his cries as his eyes were locked on hers.

  “I am so sorry you endured this on my account,” Sellah whispered as she studied his back.

  “It was nothing really. Anyone would have done the same.” Simeon struggled to speak despite the sting of pain.

  “I fear Simeon, that you are mistaken,” Accalia said with the hollow eyes of a woman who had experienced great

  suffering. “It has been a long time since I or Sellah has been given such kindness from a man.”

  In an effort to lighten the mood for Accalia, Sellah turned to Vettius. “He is very much like you isn’t he?”

  Vettius returned her jest with a smile and a firm grasp of his son’s hand. “I dare say that despite my best effort, Simeon has turned into quite a young man.”

  “I take it you two have met prior to this domus?” It was obvious that Simeon tried to hide his embarrassment from his father’s praise by changing the topic. “I wondered of it when I noticed my sister’s amulet on your tunic. Now, hearing you two speak so comfortably, I know it must be true.”

  “Yes, your father was most kind to me,” Sellah answered.

  “I but merely did her hair. See Simeon, I told you, if you want to surround yourself with beautiful women, you must learn their areas of interest. What woman does not like her hair attended too?”

  “None I can think of,” Accalia offered.

  Sellah smiled at Accalia’s lightened disposition. She reached into the bowl, fetched a fresh cloth, and returned to soothing Simeon’s wounds.

  “What is the meaning of this?” an aggravated voice snapped form the entrance to the tent. Startled, Sellah dropped the wet cloth.

  “Thaddius, we visit with Simeon,” Vettius explained.

  “I see that,” he said in a clipped, harsh tone, switching his attention to Sellah. His eyes landing on her hand, which rested on Simeon’s back. Anger danced in his gaze causing Sellah’s heart to race in response. She diverted her eyes to the floor, hoping it would help calm her nerves.

  “Did I not tell you to wait for me and we would see to

  Simeon together?” he snapped.

  A firm grasp on her arm shook her attention from the

  ground.

  “Answer me!”

  “Apologies Dominus, I hadn’t realized you were

  addressing me,” she stuttered in confusion, her shaking hands

  clutching tightly to the fabric of her tunic as she looked to

  Simeon for help.

  Simeon wrinkled his brow. “Thaddius, let her go. You are

  hurting her. She is here, you are here, all is how you

  requested.”

  “If I requested your opinion in this matter, I would have

  asked,” Thaddius snapped. “You have caused great trouble

  for me. Now even my common slaves do not obey my simple

  command.” He openly snarled as he kept his narrowed eyes

  fixed on Sellah.

  “Dominus, it was my fault,” Vettius interjected. “I

  encouraged the girl to attend to my son with me.”

  “Vettius, you are a most trusted friend. And because of

  that, and that alone, I will overlook your disobedience.”

  * Thaddius gripped harder on Sellah and yanked her to her feet. He saw the flash of pain in her eyes but overlooked it. All that mattered now was settling the unnerving feeling that had welled up in him when he saw her gentle ivory touch upon Simeon’s back.

  “You will come with me to the trigarium while I train,” he demanded, as he pulled on Sellah’s arm and led her outside. “Thaddius, please. She is still unwell,” Vettius pleaded. “I will determine the state of my servants.” Thaddius

  switched his attention to Vettius. “Your good standing will not keep you from punishment if you continue to defy me,” he warned.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Thaddius saw Sellah become unsteady and watched as her legs collapsed. He managed to move his body to catch her before she crumbled to the ground. The pain in her eyes was mixed with fear, a fear he had put there.

  “I’m sorry Dominus. I will try harder,” she begged as her fear now outweighed the pain.

  What was he doing? Vettius was right, she was too fragile. But now he had to force her alongside him. He couldn’t show her favor. They would think of him as weak, easy to forget his resolve. Acestes’ words rang through his mind: “Your father’s success was based p
rimarily on the obedience of his servants. He was a bold and relentless Dominus at times, but well respected by all.” Thaddius had to gain that respect—it was his duty to do so.

  “You will join us.” He pointed to Accalia. “Attend to Sellah,” he instructed as he flicked his wrist in demand at the girl. Accalia’s support was all he could offer Sellah. He hoped she would recognize the gesture. But when he looked into her eyes, he saw that the only thing she recognized of him was his relentlessness.

  He choked back his offense. It was appropriate for her to view him as such. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? But try as he might, he did not like the feelings of loss he felt.

  He watched as Accalia struggled to support Sellah’s weight and escort her out of the tent. When the women were

  out of his sight, he turned to Simeon. The look of pure disgust on his friend’s face caused him to falter in his step.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he said as he cast his eyes from Simeon’s face.

  “Nor do I want to understand what brings you to act such a fool!”

  “Simeon!” Vettius scolded, “He is your Dominus.” He squeezed his son’s hand in protective warning.

  “You are right, father. Until yesterday he was my brother. Now he is only my Dominus!” Simeon struggled to turn himself away.

  Thaddius stood frozen as he worked over Simeon’s words. It pained him to think of losing his closest friend. At times Simeon was all that helped him get through his new responsibilities. But now, Simeon threatened to distract him from them. He couldn’t choose a friend over his family’s name. It was a painful sacrifice but one he did not think twice about making.

  “That is correct. I am not your brother nor am I your friend. I am your master! And unless you chose to obey me, you will receive many more nights like the last!” He turned sharply and stormed out the door, ignoring Vettius’s worried look and Simeon’s broken expression.

  Accalia and Sellah had not made it far. Sellah could barely place her weight on her legs, and Accalia was too small of form to hold her steady. Thaddius ran to them and wrapped his arm around Sellah’s waist and took her weight off Accalia.

  “Run ahead of us and tell the men to prepare the biga,” he instructed Accalia.

  “Apologies Dominus, I do not know what this is you

  speak of.” Accalia’s voice cracked, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

  “The biga is a two-horse chariot. The men know what I speak of. Just go now.”

  * Accalia lowered her head in acknowledgment before taking off in a sprint toward the trigarium. She was thankful to gain some space between her and the Dominus, but she worried how Sellah would fare.

  Soon the large charioteer training facility spread out before her. She had never seen a trigarium before; the magnitude of it stopped her midstride. Her son had wanted to grow to be a charioteer; he would have loved seeing the trigarium.

  “Can I help you miss?” a low voice asked from behind. “Yes, our Dominus approaches and wished the biga readied,” she replied as she turned toward the man.

  “Ready the biga!” he shouted toward a group of men in the distance as he turned to leave.

  * Sellah and Thaddius had made it to the ridge overlooking the trigarium. The sight of the grand chariot track before her took her breath away. Thaddius smiled at her reaction to the sight.

  “It is magnificent isn’t it?” He smirked as he watched her eyes light up in wonder.

  She hesitated to answer him, but finally found the words to do so. “I had heard of such places, but never imagined them to be so, so… well, as you say, magnificent.”

  Her eyes studied the newly harnessed horses as they took in a practice run around the track. The beasts worked perfectly together, moving as one and carting the chariot behind. It was a beautiful sight to behold, man and beast working seamlessly.

  The horses picked up speed around a corner, raising two of the wheels from the ground. Sellah gasped and flinched into Thaddius.

  “Do not fear,” he laughed. “See, my horses expertly corrected their alignment.” He pointed to the chariot that continued unharmed around the track.

  “You do this?” she asked as she pointed to the trigarium. “I don’t just do it, it is a part of me. I am the undefeated champion of Rome,” he bragged.

  She found the strength to look up into his eyes. Hoping that the lightened tone in his voice reflected a lightened change in his mood.

  The passion with which he talked about charioteering intrigued her. It was the most humanity she had seen him radiate since she had met him. For a brief moment she forgot the monster that held her and thought only of the man. The man she liked—the monster she had come to loathe.

  “W ould you like to meet the love of my life?” Thaddius

  asked. The ease with which he offered his words made Sellah wonder who this maiden was that had captured Thaddius’s heart.

  “Yes, I would like to meet her,” Sellah replied as she cast her eyes away from his intent gaze.

  Wrapping his arm around her, he escorted her past the men and straight to the biga that had been readied. He sent Sellah a knowing smile before spreading his arms and directing her attention to the horses fastened to the cart.

  “Here is my heart’s home,” he theatrically announced as if on stage.

  “The chariot? I had thought you were hinting at a woman.” Sellah blushed at the directness of her words.

  “Ah, that is where you are wrong. It is a woman who has captured my heart. Sellah meet my love Diana, Diana meet Sellah.”

  Sellah had thought he had gone mad until she saw him approach the large black mare hitched to the chariot and whisper into her ear. The horse kicked its foot and nuzzled into Thaddius. A horse. He was in love with a horse? She smiled to herself over the foolish assumptions she had made and limped over to Diana. In a friendly gesture she held out her hand for the horse to smell.

  “Nice to meet you, Diana.” Sellah beamed as she ran her hand up the coarse hair on the horse’s nose. The black mare snorted, blowing hot steam out of her nostrils and causing Sellah to chuckle to herself.

  * Thaddius watched as Sellah got lost in her interactions with Diana. There was something so special about the girl, and Diana must have sensed it too. His horse normally didn’t let anyone but him pet her.

  “Diana is a peculiar name for a horse. Do you not find it inappropriate to name her after the goddess of the hunt?” Sellah asked.

  “You have never seen her race.” “I just witnessed her around this track,” Sellah said as she turned her attention to him.

  “This? This is nothing compared to what is required when there are dozens of chariots on the track, all vying for first. That is where Diana shines, that is where her hunter instincts kick in. She is the true champion. I owe all I am to her.”

  The way he lovingly stroked her side and spoke of her confused Sellah. At first she had mistaken his excitement and love for this sport and his horse as a glimpse of his humanity. Now, she saw his genuine care for the horse as more than she had witnessed him give his own servants. Was she wrong? Was what she thought compassion really another way of him celebrating himself?

  “Surely you don’t mean to tell me that without this horse you could not win a race.” Sellah had hoped to stir a reaction in him to prove her theory that no goodness could reside in his heart.

  * He studied her, noticing a change. What was once full of wonder now reared its cynical head. “I suppose it is true. Without Diana I am but a man standing in a cart with wheels.” He hoped this would soften her demeanor.

  But to his dismay his humor did not work. Instead, she arched her eyebrows and the corner of her mouth turned up just a hint. It was enough to convey that she did not find his wit humorous. In fact, she seemed politely annoyed by him.

  He sighed before offering her an honest response. “The first rule in charioteering is to choose a lead horse. One you trust with your life. She leads the other horses and I lea
d her. I am a champion because I trust Diana’s instincts. I do not direct with a whip as most do. I let her drive for the win and direct the cart. It frees up my hands for other things.”

  The honesty of his reply encouraged Sellah’s curiosity. “You mean to say you do not lash or steer your cart?” Her eyes widened in wonder.

  “Yes, it is a foolish tactic if you do not trust your lead horse. But Diana has saved my life more times than I can count. See here,” he said as he picked up Diana’s front leg and pointed to a long jutting scar. “This is where she took the jaws of a tiger. As he attacked me she reared upon him to free me from his grip.”

  “A tiger? What does a tiger have to do with a chariot race?” Sellah wrinkled her brow in confusion as she began noticing scar after scar on Diana’s legs and underside.

  “You have never seen a chariot race, have you?” He watched her as she rand her hands over a scar on Diana’s belly. Sellah shook her head, confirming his suspicions.

  “That scar is from an arrow Diana took. I thought I had lost her that day.” The sadness of his memories graced his dark eyes. Sellah watched in wonder as he mentally replayed the event. Why would he risk so much for a title, just to be the Victor of Rome?

  “Races are not always just chariots and horses. They are often bloody battles of skill, speed, and wit. You must overcome obstacles that are designed to spook the bravest of horses and the bravest of men.” He placed his forehead to Diana’s and stroked her neck as he continued explaining what it was they did.

  “It is too dangerous for a man with responsibilities to compete. That is why I must step down. I must find another driver to represent my family’s trigarium and to lead Diana.” He turned to her and appeared pleased to find her

  inquisitively watching him interact with his horse.

  “You do not wish to step down?” Sellah whispered, as she

  realized the sacrifice Thaddius was making in order to follow

  in his father’s path.

  Once again he studied her face, it was as though he was