Journey's End

by LJ Maas

  “Yes, Lord Conqueror.” Sylla answered.

  “Gabrielle, go with Sylla and Gods on Olympus, open your mouth or she’ll end of clothing you like a Hestian virgin.”

  I gave a wry smile to both of them, but only Sylla smiled back, shaking her head at my manners. Gabrielle looked a bit dazed and confused by all that transpired in the last twelve candlemarks. She followed along behind Sylla, dressed in the robe she wore last night. Her face as impassive and unreadable as ever. I wondered how long it had been since that girl smiled last.

  * * *

  By the time I was cleaned and dressed for traveling, Sylla led Gabrielle back into the room where my breakfast was laid out. My maid stood waiting for my attention as I used my signet ring to seal a message to be sent ahead to Corinth. For some reason I thought it important that the rooms across the hall from my own in the palace, be made ready for Gabrielle’s arrival. I laughed at myself. Gods, you would think I was bringing my Queen to the palace. In some strange fashion, that’s exactly how I felt.

  As usual, Gabrielle kneeled down, head bowed, waiting patiently. When I looked up, I barely recognized her. She looked thinner with clothing draped over her slight frame and I thought our first task should be to feed the girl properly.

  “Very good. You’ve done well, Sylla.”

  “Thank you, Lord Conqueror.” My maid responded with a small smile.

  My compliments were rare, but I was learning that better results were obtained, whether it was from hired help or my slaves, when I tossed in a little praise now and then. It didn’t come naturally to me, treating people with compassion. I didn’t understand why, but then again, I never really stopped to examine my life until recently. Why did sullenness and jealous anger seem such natural emotions to me? I look back on my life and I can see only a fog of darkness that surrounds me, unable to be penetrated by light. Some days I wonder if there is a light bright enough to dispel this kind of dark. I usually think that just about the same time I wonder if trying to become a more benevolent ruler at this stage of the game will mean anything when I meet up with Hades. Could anyone overcome a past such as mine?

  “Sylla, we’ll be leaving soon, I’ll send one of my guards for you. I want you riding with Kuros, in the healer’s wagon. Gabrielle will ride with me.” I finished, dismissing the young woman. Sylla’s eyes went round when I told her where my slave would be riding, but she held her tongue and left the room.

  Gabrielle barely moved a muscle in all this time.

  “Gabrielle, are you hungry?” I asked.

  “I don’t require much My Lord.” She answered.

  Every answer she gave was trained to be ambiguous in every way. It’s one of the ways she stayed in her master’s good graces. I now doubted she would be able to answer a question directly without a little prodding.

  “Look at me, girl.”

  Gabrielle slowly raised her head, so as not to disobey, but I could see she had trouble looking me in the eye.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked the question again, enunciating every word.

  She nodded her head, lowering her eyes at the same time. “Yes, My Lord.” She answered in a very uncertain voice.

  “Then come up here and eat.”

  She looked up and then bowed her head again, but not before I saw more confusion in her eyes. I suppose she thought that I would hand her food or set a plate on the floor, I’ve even trained body slaves to eat only from my hand, reinforcing the idea that I alone owned them. I had no intention of keeping a slave like that again.

  I rose from my chair and got down on one knee in front of her. I gently lifted her chin and could see by the way her eyes shrank back from me that she expected a blow from my hand. I used it instead to brush the blonde hair from her face. I stroked her cheek with my thumb for a few heartbeats, as if I were gentling a frightened colt, coaxing it from its mother’s side for the first time.

  “It’s all right,” I said and I stood, pulling her with me. “When I eat, it will be at the table, that’s where I wish you to dine also. Sit down,” I positioned her down into the chair opposite mine, and pushed two trays in front of her. “Eat your fill of anything here, Gabrielle. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, My Lord.” She answered.

  I turned and walked across the room to another small table, busying myself on the pretense of pouring a small cup of wine. I actually wanted to see if the girl would eat the food set before her. I poured a mug of water as well, brought both of them over, and set the water in front of her, keeping the wine for myself. It was a rare occasion when I allowed slaves alcohol.

  Gabrielle timidly bit into a sliced fig and nibbled at the piece of fruit for long moments. I sat down across from her and pulled half a dozen scrolls from a case on the table beside me. I read the scrolls, mostly petitions and requests that were as boring as Tartarus, but I pretended to be engrossed, paying little attention to the young woman across from me. My peripheral vision is excellent and as I read, I watched Gabrielle.

  Once she realized I meant what I said about the food, she began to eat in earnest, and I thought the girl must have been starving. One tray of food disappeared and she was halfway through with the second when she apparently ran out of energy. She picked up the mug of water and downed it all in a few swallows.

  “Gabrielle,” I said distractedly, never raising my eyes from the scroll I read, “If you’re still thirsty, you may pour some more water from the pitcher on the table.”

  I again pretended not to care what she was doing after having given her permission, but unobtrusively watched from within my field of vision. She looked over at the pitcher, and then looked to me again. It was obvious the girl wanted another mug of water, so why didn’t she get up and get it? Her hands knotted around the mug and I could see her knuckles were white with what I could only assume was fear. She finally rose and poured the water, watching me the whole time. She poured three mugs and downed them all before returning to her seat. I would have laughed at her antics had they not saddened me so deeply.

  Gabrielle was the epitome of the defeated slave. She didn’t need to have scars on her back to know what punishment was, especially as a body slave. Imagine a slap across the face, not hard enough to bruise or cut the skin, or a kick to the shin, only enough for you to trip and skin your hands, even being denied food for days at a time. Those were the ways you punished a slave whose body needed to remain pristine. Had previous masters played the take away game with this girl to get her to act like such a whipped cur? Had they given her permission, only to punish her once she took it?

  Of course, they did. It’s what I used to do, if for no other reason than because it amused me.

  CHAPTER 3

  THE JOURNEY HOME

  THE SOLDIERS BEGAN to march out by the time I said my farewells to Telamon. I made my way down the stone steps, enjoying the coolness of the spring breeze. It was chilly enough to wear a cloak during the day, which would precipitate the need for a tent at night. The wagons that held the supplies, food, and tents for our caravan came last. I saw Gabrielle standing quietly beside Sylla and my healer, Kuros.

  Kuros was an odd little man, another of my hired workers as opposed to slave. He was an Etruscan from a land far to the north of Greece. In my pirate days, before I was even known as the Destroyer of Nations, I defeated a band of Etruscan pirates near Corsica. The healer on board the ship was adept in a number of healing arts that I was not familiar with. In exchange for his freedom, Kuros taught me the seemingly magical healing techniques he knew. Once faced with freedom, the small man promptly turned around and asked to be my private healer.

  Sylla said something to Gabrielle and the blonde nodded as my maid climbed into the wagon beside Kuros. I walked up to Gabrielle and indicated that she should follow me. I had to slow my naturally long stride considerably and as it was, Gabrielle was still nearly running to keep up.

  “Lord Conqueror,” Atrius said, handing me the reins to my horse.

  Tenorio was a mi
dnight black Stallion that had the power of a bull and the grace of a butterfly. He was a warhorse unlike any other and I considered his worth beyond all the gold in Greece. The proud animal never felt anyone’s seat on his back but my own, but I had faith that the animal would accept the small additional load that I had in mind.

  “This is my new... personal slave,” I said to Atrius, not really knowing why I refused to use the words, body slave. “Her name is Gabrielle.” I finished and Atrius nodded his head in the girl’s direction.

  “Gabrielle, this is Atrius, he is the Captain of my armies. If I ever become separated from you, then his is the face you are to look for. Do you understand?” It seemed as though I had to ask Gabrielle specifically whether she understood me or I would never hear her utter a word.

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  I vaulted onto the stallion’s muscled back and held out my hand to Gabrielle. I could see her swallow and when she reached for my hand, I noticed that she was shaking. I leaned back into my saddle.

  “What are you afraid of?” I asked in confusion.

  She looked up and it was the first time her eyes met mine, without me forcing the issue. She looked at the beast again and said softly, “He is very large, My Lord.”

  I laughed and those around us turned to watch. It was a rare sight indeed to see me laughing, but the small girl’s fear seemed to make perfect sense. She was at least two heads smaller than I, and I thought that if I had her build, I’d be a little worried too.

  “Give me your hand, Gabrielle.” I commanded and she obediently did as I asked.

  I lifted her easily into the saddle in front of me; after all, she weighed no more than a sack of figs. I settled her so she was leaning against my body and the warmth that caused between my legs was a sensation I had long grown accustomed to being without. She peered over the side of the horse’s back and leaned back once more.

  I gave her a sincere look as we set off. “Don’t worry, Gabrielle, Tenorio won’t let you fall.” That being said, I put my arm around her waist and pulled her back against me. It was a long time before I removed my arm from her waist.

  * * *

  A few candlemarks passed and I began to notice Gabrielle squirming in the saddle. I could have asked her what was wrong, since I already had my suspicions. The girl drank four mugs of water just before we set off and I suspected she was beginning to feel it. I wanted Gabrielle to speak for herself, though, and this was my subtle training technique. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with a young woman who was afraid of her own shadow, so I decided to be as kind to the girl as my limited temper would allow.

  Gods, what was I thinking lately to say things like that? How does one consider spending their lives with a slave, one that I really know nothing about? A master and her slave can carry on many types of relationships, but not as ruler and consort, it’s just not done. Is it?

  She lasted one more candlemark until my uncanny hearing picked up the small request for attention.

  “My Lord?” she whispered.

  “Yes, Gabrielle.”

  “I... may I have permission... for a trip to the bushes?” she finished.

  I veered Tenorio off the road and Gabrielle looked genuinely surprised that I didn’t merely deposit her at the side of the trail. With my soldiers marching along, the last thing I wanted was my personal slave relieving herself in full view of them. We rode up a slight incline, into a forest glade and I dismounted first. Once set down on the ground, Gabrielle seemed unsure if she could continue. Suddenly feeling rather ill at ease, I backed up, the horse’s reins in my hands.

  “I’ll just... um, be over... so you can have some privacy.” I muttered awkwardly.

  It was the first time I’ve said the word, um, since I was twelve years old. What was coming over me? Gabrielle looked at me as if I’d suddenly grown another head. Privacy? Slaves don’t care about privacy! I turned and walked back the way we came, strolling along, letting Tenorio drink from the small creek that crossed our path. It wasn’t long before I heard Gabrielle return to my side.

  “Feel better?” I asked with an amused grin.

  Again, that surprised expression on the girls’ face. Gods, did no one ever to talk to her? I had to keep reminding myself that Gabrielle was a slave. In the last few seasons I surrounded myself with so many hired men and women, that it was taking me a little time to remember what a slave’s life was like. Of course, no one spoke to her, least ways to ask her opinion or how she was feeling. She was property and most slave owners thought that asking a slave how they felt would make about as much sense as asking your horse the same question.

  I saw Gabrielle nod and I cleared my throat before I spoke.

  “Gabrielle,” I paused until she looked up at me. “I can only assume that in the past you have either been ignored or abused in some way for revealing your opinion. I think it’s important for us to establish some rules to this relationship of ours.”

  Did I just say relationship? Gods, that’s not what I meant... or was it?

  “If you are to serve me on a personal level then I will desire more than simply physical pleasure. I have a need for... a need for companionship.” I said, looking down to see what effect my words where having on the young slave.

  Gabrielle walked along beside me, her face as expressionless as ever. I took a deep breath and wondered whether this whole thing was going to be worth it. Training a slave to be my companion? It seemed as redundant as paying someone to be your friend. This girl was timid and fearful, and spent most of her life developing the submissive skills that would keep her alive as a slave. I couldn’t expect her to forget a lifetime of training in one day. I took in another deep breath and could only guess whether or not Gabrielle would even care to be placed in this situation. In the past, what a slave wanted was never my concern. Now, I felt that it was important, but I couldn’t say why, only that it felt that way. My patience, or rather the lack of, is legendary. Did I possess the forbearance for such a task as this?

  Again, I stopped walking, and when I stopped, Gabrielle halted. We came to another creek, a little larger than the first tiny one we crossed. I could see that Gabrielle would have certainly followed me, walking right through the freezing water, but she wore decorative women’s boots and mine were made of thick leather, and meant for the outdoors. I easily lifted her up and placed her back on the ground on the other side of the brook. The amazement on her face was becoming pretty commonplace, but I felt I had to comment this time.

  “Sylla would never let me hear the end of it if I let you ride the rest of the day with sopping wet boots.” I said, continuing to walk on out of the woods.

  We strolled through the grassy field toward the road and I resumed my conversation. “Like I said before, I understand that you may have been punished for your thoughts or your opinions, but if we’re to spend time together I don’t want to feel like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to hear from you, Gabrielle. I want you to know that when I ask you a question, if you speak the truth, you will never be punished for the answer. Do you understand what I’m saying... what I’m asking of you?” I asked, pausing to lift her chin up in my direction.

  “Yes, My Lord.” She answered, and I figured now was as good a time as any for a little test.

  “Gabrielle, do you want to walk for a bit, or are you ready to ride again?”

  She immediately looked up at Tenorio, walking beside us. The animal’s back was past the top of her head and the look on her face told me that mounting the animal again was equated with scaling a tall mountain. I wanted to see if she would answer truly, and as it would always be, the young woman surprised me.

  “I would much rather walk, My Lord.” She answered tentatively.

  “Then walk we shall.” I answered and I turned to her so she could see the smile on my face.

  She didn’t return the smile, but her eyes brightened a bit and I thought that was a start. I didn’t use my smile much, at least not this genuine grin. I didn�
�t count the feral sneer I used in battle or pronouncing sentence on a captured enemy. This is the one I reserved for moments when something really pleasured me, and those times were few. It usually felt out of place on my face, a brooding scowl felt so much more natural. However, I smiled for Gabrielle, in part to express my happiness that she understood what I was asking of her, and also because it felt rather right.

  We walked for another candlemark and I noticed Atrius sent some members of the palace guard back to watch my back. After all these seasons, I still forgot that because I was the ruler of Greece there would be people who would want to kill me, despite the fact that the country enjoyed a state of economic prosperity because of me. Perhaps I was growing complacent as I grew older, but I was still a fearsome warrior and it rarely occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to handle any foe I should come up against.

  If the others were any closer I would never had said the things I did to my young slave. We walked along and I found myself telling things to her that I barely knew I felt. I even got her to answer me on occasion, but getting an opinion from her was nearly impossible. I did learn a little of her past, but even gleaning that information proved not to be without its challenges.

  “Gabrielle, how old are you?” I asked.

  “Twenty summers, My Lord.” She answered.

  “How long have you been a slave?”

  “Since the season I turned ten, My Lord.”

  “And, how long since you’ve been a body slave?” I continued.

  “That same season, My Lord.” She answered, and I thought I heard a catch in her voice.

  Gods, I winced inwardly. She has been serving in a master’s bed since she was a young child. Surely even the Fates could not be that cruel.

  “The world is not always what we would like it to be.” I stated quietly, and I knew the young woman agreed, even though she held her tongue.