The Chariots Slave
Page 6
trying to gauge if she held any care for him or if her words
were merely ones of understanding.
“Every ounce of every dream I have ever had directs me to
this path. Yet my responsibilities bind me to another.” He
stared off in longing as he watched a chariot make its way
around the track.
“I don’t understand. Can you not do as you wish? You are
Dominus.”
“Yes, I am Dominus, and that means if I do not attend to
my father’s estate, men like Barachius can swindle it away.
The Gracchus family line had its foundation in Rome, a name
like mine can not be bought. Title is a game of politics and
breeding. If I do not uphold my inherited title, another can
forcefully remove it if they are in the counsel of higher
ranking men. So you see Sellah, we are not so different. Both
of us are destined to serve something we loathe!”
Her eyes flashed with fear; she realized she had
overstepped. It was hard to find balance with Thaddius.
Sometimes he treated her with kindness and other times as
though she were not worthy to be in his presence.
“Come, let me force my wishes upon you once more. Let
us experience all that the biga has to offer.”
He pulled her after him as he stomped off down the hill
toward the cart, forgetting the state of Sellah’s health. She
tried hard to maintain footing but had no strength and soon
her legs gave out and she toppled to the ground.
Accalia witnessed the whole event and came running to her side. Forgetting to address her Dominus, she pushed him aside and focused solely on Sellah.
“Accalia, I am well, leave me.” Sellah’s eyes darted toward Thaddius as she tried to signal Accalia to be wary.
When Accalia finally understood what Sellah was implying, she fell to her knees in front of Thaddius. “Forgive me Dominus, I was driven with the need to care for my friend. I did not mean to show disrespect. This is all so new to me, I am learning….”
* Thaddius placed his hands on her cheeks, tilting her face up to his and silencing Accalia’s panicked apology.
“Your heart is in the correct place, although your head is far from it. You must be cautious as to how you act. Now, I will overlook your behavior. But in the presence of certain company, I will not grant such mercy.” Although his words were kind, his tone and demeanor conveyed the aggravation he felt. Accalia shuddered under his touch and was eager to be released.
He watched as Sellah, who was still on the ground, went from being visibly consumed with her pain to being consumed with fear for her friend. He hated that his actions made her fear him so. All he was trying to do was offer kindness, to overlook Accalia’s inappropriate behavior. Even so, he still frightened her.
“Accalia, take Sellah to Vettius at once. Tell him to take her to the salt baths until she is well.” He then turned his back to them.
* Sellah closely observed her Dominus. His back was as straight as a spear pole, and he held his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Had he just offered to care for her in an unselfish manner? Could he really value her life? But how could she accept such a kind gesture when Simeon, the man who had saved her, remained wounded and in pain?
“And what of Simeon, would such baths not help him too?” Sellah called out, braving Thaddius’s wrath in order to help the man who saved her.
“Leave me!” he shouted over his shoulder, his angry tone returning.
Accalia hurried to help Sellah off the ground. It took Sellah great effort to hold back her cries of pain.
* He knew she was trying to be brave and his arms ached to help her. But his head rationalized it was inappropriate for him to do such things. So instead, he kept his back to her and hoped they would leave. And that any ounce of jealousy he had felt, when Sellah petitioned for Simeon, would erase in their absence.
* As Accalia struggled to support Sellah’s weight and drag her away from Dominus, Sellah’s heart sank. Could she really leave without pressing the matter of Simeon further?
She knew it would be easy to do so, but her heart would not let her.
“Accalia wait!” Sellah begged as she pushed herself out of Accalia’s grip.
“No Sellah, don’t do this,” Accalia pleaded as Sellah
hobbled toward Thaddius.
* Turning toward the women, Thaddius watched as Sellah stumbled toward him. He noted that a small part of the fire he had once seen in her burned once more with purpose in her eyes. He stifled the feelings that momentarily swelled. She was beautiful when she was stubborn.
“Dominus, please. Consider Simeon. You were once such dear friends. Do not let me come between that. He needs further care, his lashings are very deep.” She struggled to get to her knees in front of him. The pain from her bruised ribs and inflamed joints were evident in her eyes with her every move.
He wanted to scream, to beg her not to do such things. Not to kneel before him, not to cause herself such pain. But all he could do was stand and listen as she petitioned for Simeon.
Thaddius glanced over to Accalia. Tears streamed down her face, and her hands covered her mouth so that she would not cry out. Was he really such a monster that they feared him so?
“If there is only one space in the baths, Dominus, then I beg you to send Simeon in my place.”
Sellah took a chance to look up into Thaddius’s eyes as she spoke. He turned his head so she could not see the pain,
anger, and sadness that flashed before her. He cleared his throat and tried to find words. A minute passed in an awkward silence; finally a sound came forth.
“Leave me. Go now and never dare petition me for another again!”
As her shoulders crumpled in defeat, Thaddius regretted the words he had spoken. He wanted to say, take Simeon. He had. But when Thaddius opened his mouth to speak, it was not he who controlled the words. No, it was Dominus who had decided.
“O rla, so good to see you,” Vettius greeted with arms
spread wide as he entered the bathhouse.
“Vettius? Have I sent for you? I do not recall. We must
have a mix up as I have no one requiring your services.” Orla
wrinkled her brow in puzzlement.
“Do not worry yourself. Thaddius sent me. One of our
girls needs your expert care.” He signaled the guards to bring
Sellah forward.
Orla watched as the unusually colored girl was escorted
into the room. Her eyes widened and she turned to Vettius as
if to ask what had happened. Diverting his eyes from her
inquisitive face was all the answer she needed. Something
had been afoul here.
“Oh my dear, it is good to see you again. But I wish it was
not under such circumstances.” Orla rushed to Sellah’s side.
* “It is good to see you too, Orla,” Sellah returned as she
forced a smile through her pain. The ride into the city had
been a painful one. Every time the cart hit a rock she would
lose balance and smash into its side, punishing her already
bruised body.
“She will be requiring the salt baths and perhaps some of
the extras you give Thaddius when he attends,” Vettius
instructed.
“Thaddius comes here?” Sellah was unable to control her
curiosity.
“Yes, after almost every race. He pushes himself too hard
and someone must nurse him back to health.” Orla spoke this
in a maternal manner.
“Orla is a miracle worker. There is no reason that boy
should be alive. But, enough of this morbid talk, I must be on
my way.” Vettius marched over to the women. First
, he
wrapped his hands around Orla’s plump cheeks and planted a
kiss to her forehead. Then he did the same to Sellah, yet with
a gentler touch.
“You’re leaving?” Sellah bit down on her lip and tried to
calm her nerves. She did not like the thought of being away
from Vettius. He made her feel safe, and, right now, that was
what she wanted more than anything.
The old tonsor smiled at her and looked knowingly into
her eyes. “Do not worry precious jewel. You will be in good,
kind hands with Orla. I will return every day to check on your
recovery.”
His words were reassuring, and Sellah felt herself coming
to ease. As Vettius turned to leave, Sellah noted how his
sandals made a slapping sound on the stone ground. It echoed
around her in steady rhythm to her every breath.
He would be missed, but being away from the domus and being cared for by Orla wouldn’t be that bad. In fact, she might actually enjoy herself.
“Orla, do not hold back any care. Cost is not a priority, her health is. Just send your bill to the Dominus.” Vettius smiled and then walked out the door and into the busy street.
The two women quietly walked through the bathhouse to a large wooden door. Sellah hadn’t remembered seeing it from her last visit here. Orla pushed it open and ushered Sellah in. Unlike the bathhouse, which until now Sellah had thought beautiful, this room was suited for kings.
The ceiling opened to the sky, allowing the sun’s rays to light the pool. And the entire ground around the salt bath was covered with hand painted green and yellow tiles.
Orla smiled as she watched Sellah take in the space. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”
“Yes, I have never seen such a lavish place,” Sellah confessed.
“The salt bath is only accessible to our most elevated clients.” Orla tried to find the words to explain without insulting Sellah’s status. “I am not sure what you have done to merit your Dominus sending you here, but you certainly could use it. In fact, I would not have thought this possible, but you may look worse than when we first met.”
Sellah laughed at Orla’s jest, resulting in a stabbing pain to her side. With a worried look Orla rushed to help Sellah out of her stola and into the salt pool.
“Rest now, I will go prepare a poultice.” Orla managed to support Sellah’s weight while lowering her into the salt bath’s healing waters. “And Sellah, if someone approaches you, please do not reveal to them that you are a servant. It
will save us both some trouble.”
*** What do you mean, Diana refuses to pull any of the new drivers?” Thaddius screamed into the face of a very nervous stable hand.
“Dominus, we have put forth great effort. Believe me we have, and every time she refuses to take step. Even after receiving the motivation of a whip she remains still.”
Upon hearing they had brought whip upon his most trusted horse, Thaddius lost all restraint. He grabbed the man by his neck and slammed him into the stable door.
“If I ever hear of you lashing that horse again, I will return the favor. For every one lash Diana receives you will receive two. Do I make myself clear?”
The man bobbed his head in understanding, and Thaddius released his grip, dropping him to the ground. “Now go, ready the men. We will meet on the circus grounds and discuss our problem.”
Without hesitation the man ran off to see to Thaddius’s demands. Taking this moment to rest and reflect on the past few days, Thaddius slumped onto the hay bale beside him. With his head rested on his hands he focused on breathing, long deep breaths.
His head was a swarm of thoughts: Sellah, new drivers, Simeon, being Dominus. He couldn’t focus; he needed to take his mind off everything. He could try wine and women,
but for some reason he had not had a taste for either lately. But he did need the mental release, and he knew of only one other way to do so—Diana.
It wasn’t wise for him to race now that he was Dominus. But it wouldn’t hurt taking a biga or a quadriga out for a couple of laps. Having made up his mind, he strode purposefully toward the circus. The anticipation of once again standing in a chariot and commanding Diana and the team quickened his pace. It had been four months since he had done so, and four months since his father’s death.
As he rounded the stable walls, a scene of disaster spread out before him. Men cried out in pain and fear as they desperately clung to the leads of a rearing horse. Even though it was fastened to the chariot, it bucked wildly, pulling men off the ground and kicking at anyone within range.
Thaddius quickly surveyed the area and noticed some of the men bandaging fresh wounds. The other two horses pulled to the side as they tried to be free of the ties that bound them to the cart and to the wild horse. This only acted to block the men from securing the right side, and it caused the cart to tip precariously high.
“Stop!” Thaddius yelled as he ran down the hill toward the men. “Let go of the line, the cart’s tipping!” In their panicked focus the men did not hear Thaddius’s warning and continued their attempt of pulling down the rogue horse.
This fuelled Thaddius’s need to get to the track and save the cart from tipping completely over and injuring one of his prize horses. He ran faster than he had known possible and in no time made it to the heart of the calamity.
“Stop!” he repeated as he ripped the lead out of the hands of the man beside him. Instantly, man and horse submitted
and an eerie stillness fell upon the circus. “Get the cart before it tips,” he directed to the men as he turned toward the center of this struggle. The horse.
“Diana?” His eyes widened as he realized the wild horse had been his most trusted and best trained.
“What happened here? Why does she react so?” Not for one minute did he believe the problem had anything to do with Diana. The fault lay with the men who tended to her.
Hoping to keep her state of calm, Thaddius ran his hand over her strong neck, comforting her as he waited for an explanation.
“Apologies Dominus,” one of the stable hands said. “This is what I meant by she refuses to pull any drivers. As soon as one sets foot in the cart she begins rearing. Of the three new drivers brought here this morning, we have only one who is undamaged.”
Taking in a deep breath, Thaddius absorbed the words and looked about him. His men were frazzled, worn out. But instead of letting his anger take control, he couldn’t help but smile. “Leave us!”
“My Lord?” one of them asked, unsure of the us Thaddius was referring to.
“All of you, return to the stables and pick two new horses. We will test our last driver with a fresh biga.”
The men hurried toward the stables, eager to be away from their surprisingly well tempered Dominus and his angry horse. When they were out of his vision, Thaddius turned to Diana.
“Let me guess. Not one of them is good enough to ride with you?” he asked.
The mare answered by stamping a hoof and shaking her dark mane. She was an intelligent horse, and he did not doubt that she understood the gist of what he was asking.
“Diana, I need you to work with me. I must have a driver in the next games. This trigarium is well esteemed in Rome. And to keep it as such, we must continue to put forth good competition and a good show. If you will not cooperate, then we will have to replace you with another lead.”
Diana lifted her nose into the air and let forth a screeching whinny.
“Are you calling my bluff?” Thaddius gave the horse a mock glare. “I can’t even be sure you still know what to do at a circus,” he jested.
The temptation of the empty chariot all ready to drive gripped at his resolve. He looked longingly toward the cart. He rested his eyes on his favorite place in the world, the helm. As if understanding the matters of his heart, Diana shoved her head into his back and pushed him toward it.
His feet were drawn like magnets to their traditional spot. The paint below them was worn down to raw wood from the numerous times he had stood in that very place. Somehow the leather reins made their way into his grasp. And as usual, he wrapped it three times around his left hand and with his right clung tightly to the wooden frame.
Tilting back his head and closing his eyes, he predicted every move he would make. His heart beat in unison with each gallop he imagined the horses taking. He could no
longer deny what his body thirsted for, so he opened his mouth and gave Diana the command.
“Hijah!”
D iana and the other horses took off down the circus track with the same ferocity as if on show before thousands of fans. Dust. stirred by their hooves, flew into Thaddius’s face. His hair and tunic flapped about him as he stood his ground.
Man and beasts and cart worked as one, a balance of wit and speed. A deadly trio.
They were reaching the first turn, and instead of pulling back on the reins to slow their advance, he loosened his grip.
“Hijah!” he screamed, signalling the team to increase its speed into the curve.
Instantly the outside horses leaned into Diana. Shoulder to shoulder the three beasts pushed on. With each thrust of their hooves, they dug in deeper propelling the chariot forward.
Thaddius bent his knees and readied himself to balance through the bend. The speed at which they entered caused the right side wheel to rise slightly from the ground. Ignoring the pressing need to balance his weight, he trusted that Diana would align the horses and steady their advance once through.
Thaddius leaned into the tilt just enough to shoot the cart through the turn. Most other riders would have steadied the cart sooner, making sure both wheels were on the ground. But not Thaddius. He knew this would lose precious seconds, and in a race, each second defined your life or death.