by P J Mann
“Do we then want to speak of the times when Flaminia is coming to see me? She is actually coming to see you. I feel set aside by your annoying presence. Either you learn to stay in your place”—her face closed in to his, and he felt her breath stir his eyelashes— “slave or I will make you, one way or another.” Claudia warned, feeling her frustration growing.
Saul struggled not to avert his eyes from hers. “Mistress, I am not doing anything that a slave is not supposed to do. Your husband is my Master, and if he comes to me looking for enjoyment, I can’t refuse,” he hesitated.
“Don’t talk back to me!” she slapped his face, almost throwing him off balance. “Are you going to blame your Master?”
Her hand flew to his cheek, stinging from the blow. “No, Mistress. I…I am sorry.”
“Disappear from my sight, slave,” Claudia hissed.
He left her room as two girls came in to comb her hair and take care of her morning toilette.
“Got her rage?” Nara asked as he saw the crimson mark of Claudia’s hand on Saul’s cheek.
“I feel trapped, Nara.”
“Six days to go and Flavius will be back. Let’s try to keep strong until then.” Saul moaned. It would be a long six days.
In the working room, he dug into the bookkeeping tasks, knowing they would keep him busy and out of Claudia’s sight. He understood her frustration and felt sorry for it. He had no power to do anything about it, but he feared that, even if Flavius weren’t his lover, she would have sought another reason, any reason, to discharge her rage against him.
Saul’s work time in the office soared by while the other hours crawled. Everybody sensed that, apart from Claudia’s sadistic behavior, something else was going on.
All the rest of the week, she spent her evenings with guests behind closed doors. The slaves grew wary when she ordered them not to disturb her for any reason and to never appear in the presence of her visitors. Not even the slaves who helped her to bed were allowed to appear again until the morning. She received them every night after dark, and they left at the first hour of the night.
Saturday night, Caius and the man he chose to help him reached Claudia’s house.
Claudia looked at her guests with a warm smile. “Do we have a deal then?” she asked.
Caius asked, “Claudia, for us it is fine, but are you sure you want to put yourself into such a difficult situation?”
“I have already explained my problem. I just need time to arrange everything in detail. If you do what I’ve asked, there won’t be any trouble. Please do it for me and my marriage. I need to have my husband back.”
“The way I see it, you never had him,” the other guest said, setting the cup of wine on a table.
Tears filled her eyes as she felt she was losing her grip on everything. Hopelessness and jealousy warred within her. She turned her shoulder to them and tried to reclaim her calm, swallowing the tears of frustration she wanted so much to shed.
Caius hugged her. “Please, Claudia, don’t cry.”
She turned her head and hugged him as the tears overflowed. “Don't let me down, please,” she said sobbing.
Caressing her hair, Caius tried to soothe her. “I’m not going to let you down. You know I love you and I would do anything to see you happy. We will help you; don’t worry. We will provide you with the time you need to settle down.”
As he parted from her, Caius caressed her cheek, then focused on his companion. “It’s time to go. We must leave tomorrow if we are to have any chance of success.”
The other man looked at him and said nothing.
She escorted them to the door and bid them farewell. “Thank you for your help. Take the path that runs along the back of the house so nobody will notice you,” she muttered, and they left.
Claudia eased the door of the house shut, then walked toward her room.
They were right; she might get in serious trouble. Not for the task she asked them, but for another, which was on hold, and for which she would have to wait until the following night.
A sense of power and anticipation of the sweet taste of revenge silenced the ripples of fear propagating on her skin.
She walked through the patio and scanned the surroundings. The light of the moon seemed to give life to the shadows of the garden and enhanced the brightness of the pale marble statues. Their empty eyes seemed to accuse her, disapproving of her thoughts and plans, judging her dark soul.
The fingers of the shadows reached out to her, and she ran to her room. Far from the spirits of the night, she smiled, finding her fears ridiculous, like the ones she had as a child.
She disrobed, trying not to think about the shadows in the garden and the gleaming likenesses of the gods. A hush of voices surrounded her, growing in volume, begging her to forgive...
“Enough!” she yelled in the silence of the room. “Instead of judging me, why don’t you tell me what I have to do to obtain the love and respect of my husband?” tears chocked her breath.
None of the voices replied. She fell onto her bed and wept.
As the tears dried on her cheeks, a troubled sleep claimed her.
For the last few days Saul could not find the proper focus to follow his duties. His thoughts converged on the counting of the days that divided him from the return of his Master. His nights were a constant turning and tossing in his empty bed. It was Sunday, and Saul felt like the day would last forever, keeping him far from the return of his Master. He tried to avoid distractions, including eating.
“May I come in?” Nara asked, peeking through the closed curtains that divided the room from the other parts of the house.
Saul raised his head and relaxed his frowned expression. “Of course. I feel so nervous about tomorrow. Flavius should be on his way home, and soon everything will be back to normal.” Saul stood and stretched. “I am glad to still be alive.”
“I heard that Claudia will dismiss us all again tonight. More guests.”
“It sounds more than fine to me. I can’t wait to go to sleep and see the end of these two weeks.”
Nara caressed the surface of the table. “I don’t know. There is something strange about it, but maybe you’re right, and we should take it as good news.”
“Did you have something in particular to say to me, or did you just come to tell me about Claudia?” Saul asked.
“Yes, I came to inform you about her, and to check that you are still alive and well for our Master. You should get some rest; you don’t want to be worn out for him,” Nara chuckled.
Saul looked at him, puzzled. “Do I look that terrible?”
Nara came nearer and smoothed his hair back to his shoulders. “Look at you; you aren’t even gathering your hair anymore, and your eyes are red for the lack of sleep and excessive work. If I were your Master, I would punish you for your shabbiness… ten lashes,” Nara ordered in a solemn tone.
“No, Master. Please, I beg you, don’t punish me!”
They glared at each other and burst out laughing. “Now relax, and I will comb your hair. You can close your eyes so they will rest for a while, then I order you to take a bath before going to sleep.”
“Yes…Master,” Saul said with an impish grin.
Nara combed Saul’s hair massage his scalp to relax him until Saul fell asleep.
He didn’t stop. He liked to touch his soft hair; it reminded him of the times he took care of his previous master’s toilette. He had loved him; he wasn’t sure when he was still alive, but now he knew it.
Nara exhaled melancholically; he knew that his heart would never feel anything like it for the rest of his life, for any other man or woman. He shook his head at how foolish he might sound to other people, a slave who loves the man who owns his life. He was sure they didn’t know what it meant to be born a slave to a Master who treated him more like a son.
His former Master had kept well-defined boundaries of their roles, but still raised him with tenderness and care; he never beat him. It was sufficient to
see his master’s frown for him to understand he disappointed him and to feel guilty about it.
Why didn’t my master’s sons know what I was feeling? They Why didn’t they understand that I would rather have been buried with my Master than sold.
Saul woke up. “Do you feel better?”
Saul glanced at him. “Yes, thank you; I really needed some rest.”
“You already look better. You will see…after this evening’s bath, you will be the most shining jewel of the world tomorrow. Your Master will be pleased to see you.”
“I will just be happy to have him back.”
Chapter 14.
Despite Saul's perception of time, finally, the darkness enclosed the world within its wings. After sunset, all the slaves were dismissed and forbidden to enter the wing of the house where Claudia waited in the semi-darkness for her new guests.
Two knocks on the back door and she went to open it. In the obscurity, she could not discern who they were, but she wasn’t expecting anybody else.
Without saying a word, she led them to the room where she had arranged the wine and set the money they asked for.
The two men were covered with dark cloaks made of a rough textile. Their long and uncured beard told about their endless wanderings, in search of new adventures, people to rob or even kill.
“Yours is a strange request. I might suspect that it is a trap,” said the taller one of the two men.
The shorter one remained silently at a corner of the room closer to the door.
Feeling nervous, she smoothed the soft textile of her garment between her thumb and fingers. “I understand it might sound unusual, but there is no trap; at least not for you. I have my reasons for this, and it is not something that concerns either of you. The only thing you are to do is comply with the plan, take the money, and disappear. You will forget that we ever met.”
“You know things will go better if you kill that slave,” he said.
“It would be too difficult to explain.”
“It is your choice. I personally don’t care what you do. You will deal with your problems and we will deal with ours. Concerning us, we are not going to stay in Rome, as we have other businesses elsewhere.”
The man standing behind him listened to the discussion between the woman and his friend. He didn’t seem convinced about the entire story and wished, to leave Rome as soon as possible. He knew that if the truth ever came out, it would be difficult to justify their positions. It would especially be difficult for Claudia, and her situation was going to get, day after day, more dangerous since she was not supposed to leave. She would remain there to face her conscience. If a person like her even has one.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked puzzled.
He didn’t reply, and eyes shifted away from her to look at his friend.
“He does not speak much, and he doesn’t particularly like to speak to people he doesn’t know. He will do the job as you ask, and then we will leave without turning back,” said the other man.
She felt uncomfortable in front of the quiet man who looked strangely at her as if he had something else on his mind. His blue eyes seemed to pierce her soul, judging her plan.
“Whatever,” she said, taking a leather bag from a wooden chest. “This is the money for both of you.”
“That’s what we came here for. Now all that is missing is the time. When should we act?”
“I need to wait for a reply from another person; then I will inform you of the day and the details of the plan. Meanwhile, remain in my sight and wait for new instructions.”
“You know where to find us; we will be every evening at the same tavern where we met the first time. Until then, goodbye,” he said, guiding his silent friend out of the room to the back door.
She walked them to the exit and stood in the darkness glancing at the starry sky from the impluvium. She wondered if she had been wrong all along, trying to see if there could be another solution to her problems. Her mind caressed the idea of the kill, as suggested by her guest.
Why deprive myself of the sweet pleasure of full revenge?
She tiptoed into the room where Saul slept.
Silently came inside, and in the candlelight, he looked beautiful— too beautiful, too smart, and too skilled.
Too much of everything that irritated her so much.
Not for long, my sweet Saul. You will learn to keep your place as a slave.
Flavius and the slaves who traveled with him were on the road that would have brought them to Rome by the following afternoon. He felt tired and nervous. Everything during the journey went well, but he yearned to be home.
It was already dark. His internal clock told him that it couldn’t be more than the first hour of the night.
As he spotted the light of a lonely tavern in the distance, he decided to seize the chance to rest and get something to eat. “We will rest at that tavern, and tomorrow we will reach home,” he said to Lukos, who traveled at his side.
“Yes, Master. I suppose you missed your wife.”
Flavius frowned. He thought about his own house, the place where he felt safe from everything; where all was familiar and where Saul waited for him.
The lights guided them, but at the halfway point, he heard the horses of the slaves who were traveling behind him whining restlessly.
The horses’ ears perked, and they snorted, stomping nervously on their hooves. He about-faced, all senses on alert. His two slaves were nowhere in sight, and the frenzied sound of their horses’ hooves receded.
The fine hairs on the back of his neck rose. His slaves would not flee. If that was their intention, they could have waited after he had gone to sleep at the tavern. Moreover, they’d had many occasions to escape during the journey.
He dismounted and walked back along the trail. As he neared the bend, he saw them. He noticed the two slaves lying dead on the ground. His heart galloped with fear at the sight of his two slaves on the ground, arrows on their hearts. He waved Lukos toward him.
“Master, what’s going on?” he asked in a low voice, peering around as if a ghost would jump out of the bushes at him.
“I don’t know.” Flavius drew his sword and yelled, “Who’s there?”
“No matter who we are, you are coming with us,” said a voice from behind.
He turned to see a shining blade poised at the throat of his slave.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Flavius asked.
“Master, run. Don’t bother about me,” Lukos yelled with a broken voice.
“Yes...why to bother?” the man replied, cutting the slave’s throat.
Flavius stood shock-still, unable to move a single muscle as Lukos’ body fell to the ground, lifeless. His blood pooled around him.
Someone seized Flavius from behind. “Be quiet, now; no one can hear you. I wouldn’t like to cut your throat too, but I don’t have any problem with it,” he said, pressing the cold blade to his skin.
Flavius feared he was going to die soon and felt glad that it wasn’t Saul instead of Lukos, Dionysius or Leandros lying on the ground.
“What do you want from me? I don’t have anything valuable,” Flavius said.
“We are not simple robbers; your life is very precious, not only to you, but to us as well,” he replied in his ear as he fastened his hands behind his back.
They lifted him onto one of their horses and left in the opposite direction of the tavern, riding until they reached an isolated old shack that was used by hunters as an occasional shelter. They walked him inside and secured his neck to the wall with a heavy chain long enough to allow him some movements.
“Make yourself comfortable” a male voice rumbled, as he untied Flavius’ hands. You will be here a while.” The man spoke to his sidekick, “Go now. I will wait for you.”
Walking toward the door, the dismissed man said, “The sooner we’re done with this, the better.”
Flavius looked at his captor in the semi-darkness. He could not recogni
ze anything about Caius, not even the voice, which was muffled through the scarf.
“What do you want from me?” he repeated his question.
“I want you to remain silent. Soon everything will be over. Surely, your family will pay a good sum to have you back home safe and sound. As soon as we have the money, you will be free to go.”
After a few seconds, Flavius asked: “What if they don't pay?”
“Then we might kill you, or maybe we could sell you as a slave.” Caius enjoyed the fear in his eyes and voice.
Flavius shivered as he remembered how easily they killed all his slaves, but he had never thought about the possibility of being sold as a slave. At that moment, he saw how destiny could change the course of his life— from a Master to a slave.
From the tone of his kidnapper’s voice, he felt sure the intent was to scare him, to tease him as a cat would do to a mouse until a ransom was paid. As it surely would be.
Shivering on the cold, rough floor, he pondered his situation, who could his kidnappers be? What was their real goal? Was it truly for money, or was it something more?
His mind ricocheted, not finding any answers.
Caius kept his face covered and lighted an oil lamp to illuminate the room revealing the details. The only pieces of furniture were a small bed, a chair, and a fireplace. The walls were darkened by the smoke, and the rough floor made of uneven wooden logs bent further with the time. He then took dried meat from a leather bag.
“Are you hungry?”
Flavius scrutinized him, trying to identify him. “I just want to go home.”
The man glanced at him and chortled behind his mask. “Not going to happen. Food and water. Take it or leave it. As for the rest, forget about it.” He handed him a bowl with dry meat bread and fruit.
“Then I don’t want anything from you.”
“You will when you feel hungry. I’m not in any hurry,” The man settled on the only chair and ate the meat while Flavius watched.
A rumbling in his stomach betrayed him, but he refused to accept anything from the person who had killed three of his best slaves and threatened to do the same to him.
