War Dreams
Part 1: Little Girl Lost
Chapter 1
As dawn's morning light streamed through the slats of the shutters on the window, a young girl stretched her limbs as she slowly woke. Her dark, curly hair tumbled down around her shoulders as she sat up, rubbing her eyes vigorously before she opened them; revealing pale blue eyes rimmed by long, dark lashes. Underneath those large eyes were tattoos from her homeland; four blue-black ovals in descending size under each eye. Her form was short and scrawny- she had the barest hint of womanly curves, even years after her first blood had come.
Decima woke at dawn in order to start her day's work. She crept off her thin straw pallet quietly, folding her threadbare blanket upon it. She cast a glance across the chamber. Her master Alecto had not yet stirred in his fur-covered bed, for which she let out a breath of relief. She grabbed the empty pitcher from the wash stand, and left the chamber silently, dashing down the hall towards the well that sat just outside the kitchens.
"No running, Decima!" the Cook Atia snapped when the girl dashed by. "If you break something, you know they'll flog you!" Atia, an old woman with frizzy gray hair and a pot-belly, warned her. Decima immediately slowed to a walk, crossing the last few paces to the well slowly. She filled her pitcher with the clear, cold water; keeping her eyes down, on her task, avoiding the gazes of other slaves and guards in the courtyard.
"Decima," a low voice called behind her, hot breath on her neck making her skin crawl. "It's been so long since I've seen you…fancy a tumble?" Along with the lewd offer, a wandering hand and squeezed her backside painfully.
"No, Septimus, I must get back to Dominus Alecto," Decima uttered, trying to pull away from the man's grip as she tried to keep from dropping the clay pitcher.
"Come on, Decima! The young Dominus will grow tired of your cunt soon enough…then you will be back with me. Ripe for the picking- wouldn't you like that, Decima? To be back with your own again?" Septimus hissed threateningly.
"Septimus! If the young Dominus were to hear you were touching Decima, he'd have you put into the dungeon!" Atia called from the doorway to the kitchens.
"I would." A firm voice called from above. Alecto stood at the window overlooking the courtyard. "Septimus, I advise you to unhand my slave. Otherwise I will take that hand and give it to the dogs," Alecto remarked with a scowl.
Septimus released Decima at once, taking a few steps back with a sullen expression on his face. "Maybe Dominus will tire of me. But if I do leave his service, you can count on having your manhood bitten off if it comes anywhere near me," Decima informed him, smirking when she saw the man blanch.
"Decima," Alecto said sharply. "To me," he directed, his dark eyes watchful as she started back towards the kitchens.
"I'll be sure to not put it anywhere near your mouth then," Septimus said low, so that Alecto could not hear. Nevertheless, the Roman's eyes narrowed when Decima paused and looked back.
"Another word, Septimus, and I will have that hand," Alecto said, his voice ringing through the courtyard.
Decima took this moment as chance to scurry inside. "The young Dominus will want sweetmeats for breakfast. I will be back for them once he is ready," Decima told Atia quickly.
"They will be ready. Go on and attend to him," The old cook said, waving her on.
Decima nodded in thanks and hurried back to Alecto's chambers. Her master was reclining in bed, a hand rubbing at his eyes.
"I'm sorry if I woke you, Dominus," Decima uttered softly, placing the filled pitcher of water on the washstand.
"It's fine, Decima. I am angry, though, that those men still do not understand that I do not want you to be touched," Alecto responded sourly. Decima merely looked at the ground, knowing better than to answer. "Take off your dress and come here," he ordered, pulling his sleeping shirt over his head.
Decima took a deep breath and obeyed. Alecto thought the rough cloth irritated her skin, so he kept her dressed in soft linens. Cast-offs of his mother's. Decima pulled at the clasps on her shoulders, and then let the dress fall to the floor. Decima shook out her long, dark hair and climbed into Alecto's feather-bed.
"On your knees," Alecto instructed her as he rose up on his own knees. Decima positioned herself on her hands and knees, looking out towards the balcony she faced. She grimaced as she felt her master grip her hips. She fixed her gaze on a particular stone of the wall outside as it began, and did her best to think of her name. Her real name, carved into the polished stone that hung round her neck.
As Alecto groaned loudly, emptying himself inside her, he collapsed atop Decima, crushing her to the bed. 'One day, boy, I will be Aeres again, and I will cut off that worm between your legs before I let it touch me again,' she swore to herself, gripping the polished stone around her neck harder.
Alecto rolled off of her, breathing heavily. "Get my breakfast, Decima. I am hungry," he ordered.
"Yes, Dominus," Decima said quietly, crawling off the bed carefully as she felt a dull throb between her legs. She picked up the linen peplos from the floor and quickly dressed, pinning it carefully before leaving her Master's chamber again. Decima did not run to the kitchen this time. If she had, she would no doubt be in agony. She entered the kitchens, moving carefully and strategically. The old cook Atia noticed this, cocking her head to the side. "Is the young Dominus' breakfast ready?" Decima asked.
Atia nodded, sliding a tray towards the young slave. "When you have a moment, girl, I'll make a tea for you to make sure his seed don't grow in you," She told Decima quietly.
Decima merely nodded. "Thank you, Atia," she murmured, taking the tray and carrying it up to Alecto's chambers. When she entered, Alecto stood before the washstand, running a wet linen cloth over his body to clean himself.
"I've had enough of these cold washings, Decima. I would like a hot bath tonight," the young man informed her idly, not taking his eyes from his task.
"Then you shall have it, Dominus," Decima said in response, setting his breakfast on the desk where her master liked to eat.
Alecto grinned over his shoulder at her. "I need fresh clothing." he said, and Decima crossed to his wardrobe to draw a toga out. She brought it to her master and helped him dress, wrapping it around him carefully. "Once I am done eating, you may take the tray back to the kitchen and break your fast there," Alecto informed her as he sat at his desk to start eating.
"Yes, Dominus," Decima uttered in response; moving towards his bed in order to collect the soiled linens, his sleep-shirt, his discarded clothing from the day before, and placed them carefully by the door. She returned to make his bed, tucking the linen sheets in and spreading the furs to cover them. Then she went to his shelf, drawing out his scrolls, lead stylus and wax tablet; bringing it all over to Alecto's desk and stacking them carefully to the side as he ate.
Alecto had eaten his fill of the sweetmeats, leaving only a few scraps on his plate. He took one in his fingers and held it up to Decima's mouth. Decima reluctantly parted her lips and let her master place it on her tongue. "A treat for an obedient slave," Alecto said with a smile. Decima did her best to smile at him as she swallowed the delicious treat. "You can take this tray now. And take the water too, I want fresh water when you return," he instructed.
"Yes, Dominus," Decima said, leaning past him to take hold of the tray, only for him to grasp her arm.
"Do not be gone too long, Decima. You get into trouble when you are not in my presence, more often than not," Alecto ordered.
"As you say, Dominus," Decima took the tray to the washstand where she poured the dirty water back into the pitcher and placed it on the tray to carry down with her. She walked slowly again this time, careful for the heavy clay pitcher on her tray. She exhaled in relief when she safely slid the tray onto a table in the kitchens. Decima took hold of the pitcher as Atia reached for the tray. "The young Master has given me leave to break my fast here," She informed the old cook.
Atia nodded. "Your tea is ready in any case," she responded. Decima stepped out of the kitchens to quickly dump out the dirty water, then placing it safely out of the way to fill once she had eaten. When she returned to sit in front of the hearth to eat, one of Atia's assistants brought her a plate of bread and cheese, along with a steaming cup of tea that looked like mud.
Decima's nose wrinkled at the sight of it, and Atia's assistant- Cora- giggled. "Atia says you have to drink it all to be sure it works," She instructed. Cora was younger than Decima by a few years, twelve winters old if you believed her, but she looked closer to ten. She had joined the kitchens staff at Domina Fulcinia's word, and she sent the pittances she made back to her family in the village. From what Decima heard, Cora had a widow for a mother and several little siblings who lived on the wages. All Decima could think was that at least the girl had her freedom, at least she made a pittance.
Decima didn't; she was a slave, a slave ever since she was a child. She remembered little about the time before she became a slave, but she did remember that night. The Romans had come; burning her village to the ground. They killed all the men, and took all the women and children and sold them to slavery. Even her proud father, their tribe's leader, Decima thinks, had been slaughtered beneath a Roman's sword.
"Thank you Cora," Decima said, looking into the flames of the hearth; watching a stew bubble in its cauldron. She started by drinking the 'tea', which tasted like mud just as much as it looked like mud, but she swallowed it all. Then Cora brought her a cup of water, which Decima immediately drank down in one go.
Cora looked amused, but brought the cup back to her refilled. Decima smiled in thanks, and then quickly ate her breakfast. She brought her plate and cup to Cora, who placed them with the other dirty dishes. She thanked Cora and Atia again, before grabbing her pitcher to fill it with water and then return to Alecto.
Decima placed the filled pitcher quietly on the washstand in Alecto's chambers. Her master did not notice her as he was engrossed in his studies. She took his laundry down to the slaves who cleaned the linens and then returned to Alecto's chambers. When Alecto noticed her idling near him, he chuckled. "Have you completed your morning tasks?" he asked. Decima nodded quickly. "I have no need of anything at the moment. Why don't you rest a while, Decima? I will wake you if I need something," Alecto instructed her.
"Yes, Dominus." Decima responded, moving to her pallet and closing her eyes. She knew sleep would not find her; but she could dream, dream of a day when she was not there to serve a boy's every whim.
~WD~WD~WD~
Decima was just waking when Alecto's father, Marius Honorius, swept into his son's chambers. The short, stout man looked furious at the sight of the slave on her pallet. He immediately looked to his son for explanation. "The slave sleeps while the rest of us work?" Marius cursed, moving toward Decima quickly. He gripped her by her hair, yanking her to her feet with a painful grip.
"Father! She was doing as I said!" Alecto exclaimed, crossing the room and taking his slave from his father's hands.
Marius sneered. "She is a slave, Alecto. She does not get special treatment because you like her cunt," he hissed.
Alecto sighed. "Father, when you gave her to me, you told me I could do with her as I please. And it pleases me to have soft, pretty woman in my bed whenever I like. She does everything I say," he tried to appease his angered father.
"So I did," Marius responded. "I've already had her beaten once to kill your child in her womb. I do not wish to do it again, Alecto." He reminded him, his words making the slave girl flinch.
Alecto's lips formed into a thin line. "Neither do I, Father. The cook gives her something to prevent her becoming with child," Alecto informed his father. Marius sniffed and swept out of the room. Alecto sighed, turning to Decima- who did not dare raise her eyes to him. "I would have you stay here during supper, but I dare say it would anger my father more. You will attend me at supper," he ordered her.
Decima nodded. "Yes, Dominus," she replied softly.
"Fix yourself up. No need to give him another reason to loath you," Alecto said, crossing the room back to his desk to work for a few moments more.
Decima sighed and moved to the washstand, bathing her face, neck and arms with cold water. She plaited her dark hair to the side, securing the plait with a leather tie. She carefully picked up Alecto's heavy vanity mirror. She observed her reflection and judged it appropriate. "I am ready, Dominus," she remarked.
Alecto glanced at her, lips quirking up in a smirk. "So you are." He responded. He stood and left his chambers for the first time all day, Decima on his heels. He walked leisurely through the villa before entering the dining hall. Alecto went straight to his mother, greeting her with a kiss on each cheek.
"My love, you know that I hate when you do not leave your chambers," Domina Fulcinia remarked, lounging like a queen on a couch before the low table.
Alecto chuckled, sitting opposite her, Decima stood at attention behind him. "Mother, where am I right now?" he asked condescendingly. Fulcinia's full lips drooped. "I am in the dining hall, Mother. So I must have left my chambers," Alecto said derisively, raising an empty goblet to Decima's attention.
The slave immediately scurried away to fetch wine for her master. "Your father will hate to see her here," Fulcinia remarked lowly, dark eyes she shared with her son flickering to the young girl.
Alecto scoffed. "He would hate to see her absent too," he responded.
Fulcinia frowned. "If she were absent, he could do nothing," she muttered as Decima returned. The slave poured Alecto's wine carefully before he gestured her away.
"Domina?" Decima asked quietly, holding the wine by Fulcinia's goblet. The older women merely covered her goblet with her hand, and Decima stepped back, holding the wine carefully to her chest.
Alecto drained his goblet with one swallow, making his mother frown again. "So the old man is late. He bothers to come harass my slave intending to call me to supper, but is late himself," he laughed bitterly. He gestured to Decima to fill his goblet again.
Decima moved forward quickly; only to collide with something heavy. The pitcher of wine sloshed over the edges, spilling on the slave and whoever she collided with. The slave lifted horrified eyes to look into Marius Honorius' enraged expression. "Stupid girl!" Marius cursed, backhanding the slave roughly.
The pitcher slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor as Decima lost her balance and fell. The clay shards cut into her limbs as she tried to regain her footing. "Father!" Alecto protested, jumping to his feet.
"No, Alecto! Your slave has grown too spoiled! She cannot even serve wine without fucking it up! Guards!" Marius shouted, gesturing to the armed men at every doorway.
"Dominus, Dominus please, I am sorry," Decima pleaded in a panic.
"Take her to the dungeon! A week down there should teach you to be more diligent!" Marius ordered as a pair of guards approached, pulling the slave to her feet.
"Father, no!" Alecto called, moving forward only for his mother to grasp his arm to stop him.
Decima felt panic rise up in her chest as the guards started to drag her away; their grips bruising her arms. "Dominus! Dominus, please! I didn't mean to!" She cried out to Alecto.
The young man sighed, glancing at his mother. "I know, Decima. I know," he said lowly, before turning away. Soon Decima realized that he would not fight his father to save her from the dungeons, and the girl began to cry.
"Don't cry, girl," One of the guards said with a twisted grin. "At least in the dungeons the only things fucking you are the skeletons," he continued, making the girl cry out in terror.
Decima cried uselessly as the guards dragged her out of the villa and around the gates to the dungeons staffed by crazed priests. Her knees throbbed dully from the guards dragging her down the stairs into the dungeons, and even more as they threw her to the floor in front of one such priest. "What have we here, good sirs?" The priest asked, clasping his hands together in glee as he looked upon the slave.
"A lazy slave, priest. The Dominus gave her to you for a week; I dare say he expects she will be able to work the moment the week is up," The first guard informed him.
"Oh, yesss," The priest praised, his lisp dragging out the 's' sound. "That means we must start the fun right away! She will work when we're done here, there's no doubt!" he continued, taking hold of Decima by the arm. "Help me to chain her," The priest requested as Decima cringed away from him.
The first guard gripped Decima by the back of the neck. "Do as told, whore, or it'll be worse," he warned her, shoving her roughly towards the priest. The priest and guard forced her to the wall, where the priest chained her wrists and ankles; so that she faced the wall.
"This will do nicely, good sir. Go back to your supper," the priest said, dismissing the guard with a nonchalant wave of his hand. The guard left without another thought, as the priest dipped a long poker into a brazier. Decima cried out again as she felt the priest pull at the clips on her shoulders- soon enough, the peplos fell away from her, leaving her nude and vulnerable. "Such soft linen, on a slave? Heresy," the priest hissed, bundling up the peplos and setting it aside.
"Please, my lord, please, I did nothing wrong," Decima begged, her whole body bare and arms beginning to lose feeling as she hung just inches off the ground.
The priest merely laughed. "Maybe you tell the truth. But you are a pagan, my dear, I can tell by those filthy marks on your face. And nothing you say can convince me that your soul is not cursed and deserving of this punishment." He informed her, lifting the poker from the flames.
At the end of the rod was a rounded shape, the insignia of Marius Honorius. The priest pressed the brand against the small of the slave's back, eliciting a shrill scream from her as it burned into her. The priest laughed madly, "Don't get too excited, girl, we're only just starting!" He put aside the brand, and picked up the whip.
At first, Decima screamed. Then she whimpered, and soon she could only flinch as the whip cracked and met her flesh. It felt like an eternity, with only the priest's laughter and the next burning pain to keep her conscious.
Suddenly she was lowered from the wall, and a rough-spun shift being jerked on over her shoulders. That started the pain up all over again, burning like every single wound being inflicted again. "Oh, sweet child, you are done for tonight. You will sleep- well, you can try- with this devilish Woad in the same very cell!" The priest said in a sickeningly sweet tone.
He placed one hand on Decima's shoulder and one on her hip, and pushed, sending the girl rolling over a grate and dropping down into a cell that was lower than the rest of the dungeon.
Decima screamed again as she landed roughly in the cell; her only response the priest's cackling as he shut the cell again. She tried to open her eyes, tried to move, but she was in such agony it hurt to even try to open her eyes. "Shh, shh, girl, don't you move, you hurt," a hoarse voice said beside her.
Careful fingers danced over her skin, and Decima cracked open her eyes to see a blue-tinged woman kneeling beside her. The young woman's fingers were bent oddly, and Decima could see that the lightest of touches the women lent her were terribly painful. But the woman pushed through, wrapping her injured fingers around each of Decima's arms, and dragging her to the side of the cell, where the ground had been cleared of the bones that Decima had so painfully landed on. The woman carefully turned Decima onto her stomach, so that her injured backside would not feel any more pressure.
"You're a Woad…?" Decima wondered slowly, remembering the priest's words. Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes unwillingly.
The woman smiled sadly, brushing the tears away from Decima's eyes. "Yes, child. I am Guinevere," she answered quietly, shifting to sit beside the slave.
"Aeres," the girl responded weakly, surprising herself. She had not uttered the name in years. "I am a slave, they call me Decima," she added, thinking for some reason that her new friend should know this.
Guinevere's eyes crinkled. "Aeres," she uttered, making the slave sigh. "What did you do to deserve this?" she asked.
Again, Aeres sighed. "I spilt wine on the Dominus…" she answered softly, her eyes drifting shut. The Woad's eyes widened in shock and anger; at the thought that the man had this child tortured so savagely for only spilling wine. She glanced back at the slave girl, finding her eyes shut peacefully. Guinevere's clumsy, pain-filled fingers reached and pressed to the girl's neck, and she exhaled in relief when she could feel the girl's heart beating. "We will leave this place, little one. Together," Guinevere promised.
A/N: Brand new story for you all! Curious to hear your thoughts.