"Alright, then, what will you bid me for this fine specimen of humanity?"
A large crowd was gathered in the Forum of Ancient Rome, passively surveying the public auction of yet a new crowd of miserable slaves. However, as they lifted their dull eyes to the stand, prepared to observe yet another fearful, work-worn waif, a collective gasp arose from the throats of the onlookers.
Never before had a maiden so fair graced the hideous block of infamy in the Forum. It was clear to the throng at a glance that the young woman, who looked to be no older than sixteen summers, was Grecian-born. A mane of thick, undulating golden curls fell like a robe about her willowy, virginal form, which was covered only by a loose linen shift. Her dark-lashed eyes were the green of the Sea of Tiber, and her skin as fair as its sands. Her lips, now trembling in fear as she stood thus exposed to a multitude of aliens, were full, and of the soft redness that seemed to beg a man's imprint upon them. She was tall, and regal in her bearing, yet she swayed slightly as she was forced to stand. Her hands were bound before her with thick, course rope that cut deeply into her slender wrists. The tail of the rope fell nearly to her knees, and it was soaked partially with the blood from the young woman's wrists.
The slave-driver looked about impatiently. "Come on then! Is she not lovely? What do I hear bid for her?" The crowd erupted into a series of cries, as men of all sizes and forms attempted to forge his way through the crowd, their denarii held in eager, outstretched hands. A grizzled ancient, garbed in a rich-looking toga, forced his way to the stand and cast a cunning glance at the auctioneer.
"You expect us to bid for the maid…without seeing what she has to offer?" Shouts of acclamation and vicious laughter filled the Forum, as all present comprehended the meaning of the lecherous old man. The auctioneer smirked in agreement, and moved towards the young woman.
Still she stood, lovelier, statelier, and stiller than a sculpture: until the man began to unfasten her garment. With one swift movement, she thrust her bound arms up and out, causing the rough end of the rope to swing out and lash the evil auctioneer across the face. With a cry of rage, the man covered his face with one hand and grasped the flailing rope with the other.
"You whore!" he screamed, as he jerked the rope cruelly, causing the maiden to lose her footing and fall heavily upon the platform. As she could not break her fall with her hands, she twisted and landed painfully upon her slender shoulder. She did not cry out, but lay watching the man above her, knowing full well that some hideous punishment would be the price she paid for her attempt at modesty.
"Show the lass who is master!" cried the crowd, and they laughed in delight as the slave-driver caught up a whip and brandished it above the maiden.
"Stop! Stop this vile business at once!" All heads turned to see a young man, hitherto unnoticed by the teeming throng, edge his way forward. He was tall, with a fairer complexion than that of most of the Roman men, complemented by curling dark hair, partially bleached by the sun, which fell to his angular jaw. His tall body struck awe into the onlookers, for his great muscles filled even the bravest men present with jealousy and fear. His eyes were as blue as the heavens, and looked as if they could appear alternately gentle and fierce. They resembled the hue of the summer sky during a ferocious storm as he gazed furiously upon the slave-driver.
"What right is it of yours to interfere?" growled the man, hideous in his fury as he lowered his whip.
"The right of a potential buyer!" The young Roman thrust a bulging sack of jingling coins at the man. "I intend to purchase the maiden, and I wish her to be unspoiled." The man opened the sack of denarii, looked into it, and gazed with wonder upon the young man's face.
"You care not that she is disobedient?" The deep blue eyes of the younger man flashed fire once more.
"That, I think, is not your concern. I have given you more money than you shall ever see again for the girl. She is mine now, and I command you to release her!" The slave-driver did as he was bidden, though he cursed and spit as he released the girl from her bondage. He pushed her roughly towards her purchaser, who caught her in his arms as she fell.
She looked up into his face then, and it seemed to the young woman that never had she seen such goodness mirrored in the countenance of man. He, in his turn, gazed upon her, and his heart seemed to melt within him as he drank in her astounding loveliness. He slipped his arm round her slender waist to support her, and together they left behind them the maiden's first glimpse of the brutality of Rome.
The young man and maiden were not long in reaching his villa, a modest yet beautiful structure on the outskirts of Rome. As he entered the atrium of the house, he saw with pleasure that the girl on his arm was amazed by the beauty of her surroundings. He gently loosened his grasp from her waist, and smiled upon her.
"I think that, as you have come to live in my home, we should know what to call one another." The woman opened her mouth to speak, but he gently laid his finger upon her lips. "I shall tell you who I am," he murmured, "but I will not allow you to tell me who you are until you have taken some refreshment. My name is Leander Maximinus. I am the son of an affluent gem merchant of Rome. I have followed in my father's trade, and am now a very wealthy man in my own right." He clapped his hands, and an elderly serving woman appeared. Although her face was as wrinkled as a well-worn garment, it was yet pleasing to behold as a result of the kindness which emanated from it. The girl looked upon her with joy, for it seemed to her at last that blessings were showered down upon her, in the place of misfortune. She turned to Leander.
"How can I thank you?" Her voice, soft and thrilling, sweet and sensuous, seemed as rousing to his ears as a clear bell blown by the breeze on a summer's day. He nearly stretched out a hand to touch her golden hair…but stopped himself in time.
"No thanks is needed. I wish only that you refresh yourself and take some rest." The girl delicately bent her form into a graceful curtsey, then left the room upon the arm of the old servant woman.
"My name is Kalyca, Child. I was born in Greece, as were you, I presume?" When the damsel nodded in agreement, the old servant woman beamed an affable smile upon the younger, as she gently stroked the golden masses of her hair with an ivory-and-silver comb.
"You are very kind, Kalyca," the girl replied. She allowed the old woman to aid her in undressing and sighed with rapture as she slid into a bath of hot, heavily scented water. Kalyca stood watching her as she bathed, noting the extreme delicacy of the figure before her.
The maiden was exceedingly slender, almost alarmingly so, as a result of the voyage to Rome from her distant homeland. Her honey-toned hair drifted about her lovely face as she floated in the water, framing it as if a ray of light had fallen upon and illuminated the face of a priceless marble statue.
When the maiden finished bathing, Kalyca dressed her artistically in a beautiful and ornate robe, the pale green hue of which set off her striking eyes and ivory-fair skin to perfection. The old women brushed the maiden's wet hair, but did not fasten it away from her face, allowing it to dry and stand naturally, letting the glorious curls have their way with it. The young woman spoke not at all as she was thus attended to, save only to thank Kalyca for her kind services on her behalf.
At long last, the damsel was ready. Kalyca led her to Leander, noting with satisfaction the look of supreme wonder upon his face as beheld the glory of her refined beauty in the full light of day. He reclined upon a comfortable couch, an untouched goblet of wine before him, and he motioned for the girl to recline as well. Kalyca left them together then, for she sensed that the girl had much to tell her new master that she could not-would not-tell her.
"Well," said Leander at last, "Are you rested?" She smiled at him.
"Yes. I…I thank you with all of my heart. Such kindness…" Her emerald eyes dimmed with tears suddenly, and she dipped her beauteous head into her hands to try and hide them. With a rush of anger, Leander noted the marks the coarse ropes had made upon her white wrists.
"Why do you weep?" he asked gently, after a moment. The girl breathed deeply to calm her torrential emotions, then forced herself to look up and meet his gaze.
"You have told me who you are, Milord. I must now extend the same courtesy." She shifted slightly, and Leander noted to himself that she looked like the very essence of spring itself, with the fairness of her golden beauty emerging from the thin, form-enhancing green robe which she wore. "My name is Calliliana, which is Greek for…"
"Bright Beauty. It is two names in one, and never was a name more aptly chosen." Calliliana blushed.
"I see that you know Greek as well as Latin, as do I. My mother, Lethia, was a beautiful Grecian noblewoman, who married a Roman soldier when she was scarcely more than a girl. She gave birth to me whilst he was away on a campaign…he never returned." The girl paused and placed a hand over her brow. "Although we were supremely happy together, Mother never abandoned the practice of rich living, even after all of the money that was left by my father had been exhausted. When she realized that she had fallen so far into debt…" A violent fit of shivering accosted Calliliana, and her voice fell so low that Leander had to strain to hear it.
"I returned home one evening, and was surprised to not find her waiting for me. After looking unsuccessfully for her, I asked each and every servant in turn where she might be, but no one knew any better than did I. I ordered them to separate and begin searching the house, for by this time I was sorely alarmed. I searched the upstairs of the house…I went into her room; she was not there. I was about to turn away, when I noticed that the door to the balcony overlooking our fragrant gardens was half-open. I stepped outside and looked about me…she was not there either. I turned to go, but something made me look over the edge of the balcony." Calliliana paused again, and her eyes and face bespoke of the horror and the sadness she felt. "She had cast herself over the edge, Milord. She lay there on the ground, her beautiful body broken and battered cruelly by the pavement below. I opened my mouth to cry out; not a sound came. I was paralyzed with anguish."
By this time, Calliliana was weeping gently once more. Ever so gently, Leander reached out his hand to comfort her, and was pleased when she did not shrink away. She allowed him to caress her hand tenderly, yet it was still several moments before she could compose herself to speak further.
"My mother slew herself as a result of her enormous debts, Milord. I was left alone in the world…and it was not long before those my mother owed came to see me for payment. I am but a young woman, Milord, only just sixteen; I know nothing of such matters." Calliliana clenched her teeth together. "I remember well the day when a great, hulking man came to the villa. I was exceptionally weary, and exceedingly heart-rent, and I barely listened to the man as he told me that he had a solution for me, a way out of debt. He offered me a glass of wine, which I took, not suspecting anything at all…when I awoke, I found myself bound upon a slave-vessel—I learned that I had been sold into slavery to pay off my mother's debts." The maiden fingered the soft material of her robe as she whispered, "I do not know what would have become of me if you had not purchased me, Milord. I owe you a debt of service so great…"
"You owe me nothing, Calliliana." Leander shifted slightly on his couch. "I know well the plight of beautiful slaves, and I could see in the eyes of the mob just what they would have made you become. I…" He stopped, mesmerized, as in one fluid motion, the maiden slipped from upon her couch and onto her knees before him. She took one of his hands gently in one of her fine, white ones and pressed her scarlet lips softly against it.
"You have saved me, Milord, from a life of shame. For as long as I shall draw breath, I will be your slave." Leander started to draw his hand away.
"Calliliana…" The girl shook her head.
"Use me as you will, Milord, I shall not murmur a complaint against you. Every day of my life, I will remember what you have saved me from." Leander shook his head and stood.
"I did not purchase you to be my slave. I do not believe in slavery—I have none." Calliliana remained on her knees, a look of incredulity spreading across her fair face.
"No…no slaves, Milord? But Kalyca…"
"…Is a paid servant. I do not think it right or just to use the life and vitality of others to promote my own comfort. No, you shall find life in my household very different indeed." Calliliana rose slowly.
"Then what am I to do here?" Leander walked to a window overlooking the gardens of his estate, and spoke to her without turning.
"It is your own decision, really. You can choose to be a wage-earning servant, as is Kalyca. You can leave me at any time, if you will. You can find work is another household, you can pay rent for your time here-or you can simply live in my house until you decide what you wish to do." The young man turned to the girl, his handsome face and powerful physique framed by the late afternoon light which slanted through the latticed windows. "I purchased you out of pity for your plight, Calliliana, not for any evil desires on my part. I hope that you realize that…"
"I never thought that you did, Milord." Leander shook his head once more.
"One request I would make of you-call me by my name. I am not your lord, and therefore should not be addressed as such."
"I will do as you ask…Leander." A bright flush colored the maiden's beautiful face, and it seemed to the young man as he watched her that he was observing an occurrence fairer than the budding of new-born rose. So lovely she was and so pure, Maximinus felt a tender affection for the maiden well up within his heart with a desire that nearly stifled him. He wished to reach out and take her into his arms…
He turned abruptly. "You must be weary, Calliliana. I will have Kalyca show you to your room." The girl thanked him with her eyes, and he could see for the first time just how truly fatigued she was. She leaned heavily upon the arm of the old servant woman, and the man could not help but long to have her lean against him with such trust as she bestowed upon the servant.
As she left the room, she cast one last look at him over her green-clad shoulder. Leander Maximinus never forgot the appearance of her face as it was then. A slight breeze blew through the windows and lifted her damp hair slightly off of her temples. Her emerald eyes, thought weary, were alive with curiosity and thankfulness as she looked at him, her face half-hidden by a screen of golden hair. As their eyes met, a thrill of desire coursed through both of their bodies…though they knew not what the other wished.
They knew not. They knew only what they themselves desired—and they trembled.
hey everyone! this is my first fanfiction; a story in the back of my head for a while. Please tell me what you think (and please be nice lol)