De Immortalitate – Immortality
My entry for the Canon Tour, "Spruce and Cactus," is now posted on my profile! http:/ www. fanfiction .net/s/7384426/1/Spruce_and_Cactus
Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement intended at any point.
Warning: Attempted rape described.
If this is a trigger for you, please scroll past the symbol * and PM me. I will summarize what happened if you wish.
Chapter 13 – Snake
"Illa quidem, dum te fugeret per flumina praeceps,/
immanem ante pedes hydrum moritura puella/
servantem ripas alta non vidit in herba."
"She, doomed girl, running headlong along the stream,/ so as to escape you, did not see the fierce snake, that kept/ to the riverbank, in the deep grass under her feet."
(Vergil, Georgics, 457-460)
Bella's POV
"Aren't you supposed to be working, slouch?" Iacomus' harsh voice made me jump.
"Sorry," I mumbled, going back to my chores. I began to align the empty buckets along the stable wall. From the tapping on the roof I could tell that it was still pouring outside. Was Iacomus going to stay in the stable until the rain was over? Still facing the racks, I stiffened as he approached.
"Stop," he ordered. "I can give you a short break."
There were no other servants in the stable, and I could guess that, because of the rain, the path from the stables to the farm was empty too. The thought that Iacomus and I were alone, even for a short time, made me at unease.
"It's advantageous for you to be kind to me," he had told me when I had arrived at the farm. "The master will free me very soon, and I could even buy you. Be nice to me and I'll treat you well."
Recalling his words, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I don't want to be bought by him! What if the master decides to give me to Iacomus? Was I ever going to see Antonius again?
Before I could find an excuse to slip away, Iacomus ran his hand over my back. I recoiled from his touch and whirled around.
"What? Always so shy?" he crooned.
Iacomus came closer; he wasn't as tall as Antonius, but he was sturdy. I tilted up my head to look him in the eyes and pulled back sharply from him. It was a mistake. Angered, he leaned his hands against the wall, trapping me between his burly arms. "You play hard to get, don't you?" His lips curled in a smile that didn't reach his black eyes. "Do you consider yourself like a patrician?" he mocked. With a sneer, he cupped one of my breasts. "Let's see if it would be worthwhile to buy you."
I started to scream, but Iacomus pushed me hard on the ground. A rake laid against the wall not far from me; I tried to reach it, but I only managed to make it fall beside me. Iacomus swooped down on me and put his hand on my mouth. My cries died in my throat. His skin was rough, and he made me feel as if I were choking. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "We are just having some fun and now you want to ruin everything?" He chuckled, as if we were merely playing around.
I bit his hand as hard as I could. The taste of dust and filth invaded my mouth, but it got even worse when I felt his blood on my tongue. Iacomus shouted an expletive. He slapped me hard, and the burning pain made everything go fuzzy. His body, heavy and violent, was pressing on mine. I kicked with all the strength I could manage, trying to push him away. But he seemed made of stone. He was immovable.
God, help me! I tried to scream. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the worst. A slave was nothing, nothing. I was about to lose my virginity just like that, under a brute, not preserving it for a beloved husband, nor for a lover I had chosen. A lover like...Antonius. His handsome face appeared in my mind.
I fought again, to no avail. Both my wrists were trapped in Iacomus' hands, his grip so violent that I felt my bones grinding together. Gritting my teeth, I tried to slip away from under my attacker. A pang of pain hit me. My tunic had torn against the rake; my shoulder had been wounded. The burning worsened as my back was scratched by the coarse ground. The chest of my attacker was pressed against mine, restraining me from taking enough air.
Grief consumed me. Mother, Father, help me!
Iacomus' foul breath was on my face, and a trace of spittle leaked out. It left a hot, sticky trail as he lowered his face close to my ear. My belly clenched as if I were going to throw up. "Be quiet," he hissed.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Antonius' POV
I arrived at the farm looking for Bella, but found only Iacomus' wife, Victoria. She gasped when she saw me in the rain and rushed to offer me a dry cloak–probably her husband's best garment–and some refreshment, which I declined. There was something that I wanted to discuss with her.
"You bring many products from the farm to the villa, don't you?" I asked.
Esma had noticed that lately Victoria came often to the villa, bringing fresh eggs, dairy products, and fruit, but I remembered she had never done so in the first months when she and Iacomus had been working at the farm.
"Iacomus and I do hope that you like our offerings, Master," she purred.
"Of course I do. But I'm sure that my father would also enjoy them very much. It's a shame that you have never thought about sending him some products from the farm, through one of the clientes," I noted absentmindedly.
"Oh, but we do!" she exclaimed. "We send him wine, oil, and honey whenever we can."
Just as I was suspecting. It could be the gesture of a servant who wanted to impress me and earn my appreciation, but at the same time it offered Victoria the opportunity to sneak around my house. She was a good-looking woman and the other servants would have easily become chatty with her, should she be so inclined.
"You do?" I pretended to be surprised. "Such a good idea! I'm sure that my father will reward you for all your services. Has he mentioned anything about it, perhaps?"
She seemed to hesitate. I hoped she didn't realize she was falling into my trap. I was getting more and more angry, seeing that my suspicions were confirmed, but I had to continue to be a good liar. I smiled at her, feigning benevolence. "You know that I also appreciate your work. How is it possible that Iacomus doesn't know anything about my father's projects for the farm? We have spoken about the opportunity to appoint a new superintendent, but I don't know if maybe some other servant..."
"Oh, please, no, Master," she interrupted. My encouragement was working. "We are doing our best, believe me. Iacomus said that your father's messengers have assured him that he will be rewarded."
Really, Victoria, you are doing your best. You have just confirmed my theory and I'd like so much to beat you and your husband to pulp right now. I was sure that it hadn't been difficult for Felix's emissaries to lure Iacomus into doing anything they wanted. The promises that he could be freed, that he was going to be appointed as villicus, superintendent of the entire farm, were surely compelling ones. My visit had reached its end. At the first opportunity, Iacomus and Victoria were going to be sent away for good.
I stormed toward the stables. Bella was nowhere to be seen. I had to keep up my façade, pretending that she was a slave like any other, in case there were other spies among the servants. I was going to take a horse and send Sextius to look for her. Soon, very soon, she would come back to my home.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Bella's POV
Iacomus tugged hard at my clothes until they ripped. The sound of my tunic tearing sent shivers all over me. I didn't have even the shield of a layer of fabric between him and me anymore. Again and again, I kicked harder as I felt cold air on my legs. Grunting, he leaned his forehead against my exposed neck; his sweat mingled with mine. He pressed his mouth on my chest, like a rabid dog eager to devour its food.
"Come on," he taunted. "Stay still and calm."
I jerked my knees, managing to hit him. The look he gave me made me regret it. "You little tart," he swore. With an outburst, he shredded what remained of my clothes.
I craned my neck away from him and screamed.
A second scream echoed in the stable.
Iacomus' weight was lifted off my body! I was free!
Struggling to stand up, I glimpsed a second man. I gathered my clothes around me and crawled toward the nearest corner. I couldn't take a deep breath yet, but I was sobbing. I was cold. I was shaking.
The two men were fighting. Iacomus was caught from behind and struck the other man, but then he looked at the face of his attacker and stood frozen. I tried to wipe away my tears to see who my rescuer was. The stables were almost dark, and I couldn't see well, but his frame was...I gasped. It was Antonius!
"What were you doing, mentula?" he shouted at Iacomus. Hearing him yelling made me flinch. I covered my head with my arms and realized I was crying again.
Iacomus tried to splutter out something, but I couldn't understand his words. I managed to hear something like Master and explain, but a moment later the only sound I heard was the raining of fists into flesh as Antonius beat my attacker. He punched and kicked him and then Iacomus curled on the ground, whining.
"Tomorrow morning, you and your wife will leave the estate," the master commanded. His voice was still loud, but he wasn't yelling anymore. I had never seen him addressing a servant with such contempt. "Go. Go to whomever sent you to spy on me, and let's see if he will spare your life as I am doing."
Iacomus spat blood onto the straw and wiped his mouth, looking furious, but he had to know resisting was useless. Snarling, he stormed out into the rain.
As I saw the master coming toward me, I curled up even more, hoping that the darkness would swallow me up. Antonius crouched down at some distance from me, and didn't move further.
"Bella," he murmured, his voice more similar to the tone I was used to hearing from him. I was still too frightened to even look at him. He called me again, softly. "I'm going to come closer. I'm not going to hurt you. Don't be afraid."
I wished I could disappear. I didn't want to be seen in this condition, and I especially didn't want him to see me like this: terrified, dirty, broken.
As if he could read my mind, he took off his cloak and draped it over my shoulders. He pulled me to his chest and embraced me tightly. Without saying anything more, he stood up and, carrying me in his arms, took me away.
It was still raining; he arranged his cloak so that it covered me completely. I fought against the lump I felt in my throat: I wanted to cry, but I couldn't.
"It's over, Bella, it's over," he whispered.
I clung to my rescuer as we distanced ourselves from the farm. I prayed that we were going home to the villa. I didn't know when I had come to think of it as home, but I was glad to be returning to Esma, even temporarily if Antonius did not want me around. Antonius kept me in front of him on the horse. I held onto anything but him. Even if he despised me, I would touch him while it was permitted. I hid my face, tucking my head under Antonius' strong chin, and thanked God he had come in time. I was surprised, but grateful, that he didn't call for Esma when we entered the villa, but I was too overwhelmed to open my eyes.
Only when the air was dry and warm did he put me down, though he kept his arms around me. I opened my eyes to find we were in a room of the villa that I didn't recognize.
"Do you want me to call Esma?" he asked.
"No!" I almost shouted. I didn't want her to see me like that. I didn't want anyone to see me but, at the same time, didn't want to be left alone.
"Do you want me to go?" he wondered next. I shook my head and clung to him. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to," Antonius reassured me. He caressed my hair, tucking the loose strands behind my ears. His cloak had slid off my shoulders. "There's a wound on your back," he told me quietly. "May I clean it?" His voice was calm and soft. He didn't urge me when I didn't answer immediately.
I limited myself to a nod.
In silence, he went toward a corner of the room. He retrieved something from a trunk. Then he poured some water out of a pot. When he came back, he was holding a tunic, a bowl, and a cloth.
"Sit here." He motioned to the bed and sat beside me. He dipped the cloth in the bowl; slowly, he brushed my shoulder until the wound was clean. Sidelong, I looked at him. Despite the scant light, I could see his tortured expression and it saddened me. "Does it hurt?" he asked softly.
"No," I reassured him.
I lowered my gaze as he looked at me in the face. My eyes brimmed with tears as I saw my hands, marred by scratches and dirt. What does he think of me? A strong, big hand covered mine. As Antonius caressed my fingers, I noticed that his knuckles were bruised. He fought for me. I would have kissed the hands that had rescued me.
"Let's put on some dry clothes, shall we?" Antonius gave me the tunic he had brought. He turned toward the wall, distancing himself while I changed my clothes. Men's tunics were shorter than women's, but Antonius was much taller than I, so his garment reached my ankles.
I turned toward him, fearing that he had exited the room, but I was mistaken. Antonius was still facing the wall; unaware of my gaze, he had taken off his tunic, and was wearing only his loincloth. The muscles on his shoulders and back were so sculpted that he resembled the statues of Greek athletes I had seen in my city. His height seemed even more impressive as he opened his arms and dried himself. I averted my eyes nervously: he seemed so powerful. Then, I realized I didn't have to fear Antonius' muscles; his strength had never hurt me. On the contrary, he had protected me. The same hands that had been so violent on Iacomus had always held me with tenderness.
Antonius came back to me and stroked my cheeks lightly. I nestled my head on his chest. My ears were ringing and my body was still trembling. I leaned into the sound of his heartbeat; it was like a beacon in a stormy sea.
He had saved me, but all the questions I had had in the past days continued to torment me. "Master," I croaked. "Why did you send me away?"
"I wish I could tell you everything." He paused. He closed his eyes, as if he were choosing his words carefully. ""I'm sorry, Bella," he murmured. "I would have never imagined..." He shook his head, defeated. "I wanted to keep you safe, and I failed."
"I felt safe here," I admitted.
"You weren't," he snapped. "The closer you are to me, the more you are in danger. I was supposed to know it. Instead, I made another mistake."
I stiffened as I sensed his anger. Had I been his mistake? So, were my suspicions true? Had he wanted to get rid of me, sending me to Iacomus? Tears burned my eyes at the thought. I felt them streaming on my cheeks. What if Iacomus had been right all along? What if I was going to be sold to him, so that Antonius could correct his mistake? I fell on my knees, sobbing.
"Please," I begged. "Please, do whatever you want with me–kill me if you want–but don't give me to Iacomus!"
Antonius brought me to my feet. "What are you saying? Bella, what is this? I'll kill Iacomus if I see him again! He will never be near you again!"
I couldn't stop my flood of words. "I didn't want to be a mistake for you. I didn't want to do anything wrong," I sobbed.
He cupped my face in his hands. "Look at me." His voice was kind again. The sorrow I saw in his eyes tugged at my heart. But I recognized the tenderness of his expression: he was the same man who had promised that wouldn't hurt me. "How can you believe that you are a mistake? You can't even know how precious you are to me! It broke my heart to send you away, but I had no other alternative. And it wasn't enough." Antonius drew my closer to him. He leaned his hands on my back, careful to avoid my bruises. He didn't loosen his embrace as he lowered me on the bed. I took his forearm, hoping that he was going to stay. "I'm here," he reassured me. He sat beside me, running his fingers through my hair. I shivered at his touch, but not out of fear. He draped a blanket over me, tucking me up in warm wool. Closing my eyes, I smelled his scent. A light caress wiped away my last tears.
Finally, I fell asleep.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Antonius' POV
Bella sleeping in my arms: I had often dreamed of this, but it wasn't the sweet embrace I had imagined. The thought that she was even more hurt than when I had sent her to the farm was killing me. She was still hiccupping in her slumber. I tried to reassure her, caressing her lightly. Just for a moment, I wished that gods existed and, even more, that they actually cared for humans' worries. I would have offered any sacrifice to them if only it would grant happiness and peace to the sweet girl I held in my arms.
She turned in my embrace, facing my chest. "Antonius..." she mumbled. Was she awakening? But she didn't say anything else. She sighed and snuggled up against me.
I was never going to discuss with her what had happened in the stable, but she had to know that I would do everything to protect her. I couldn't hide anymore how much I cared for her.
"I love you," I murmured into her ear. I recalled the verses of a poem that had always struck me as a delusion. I had snorted the first time I read it; I believed there was no way that I was ever going to feel something like that. But I had to admit that the poet's words had become true for me. I recited the verses to Bella, although she couldn't hear me. Maybe they could reach her in her dreams. "No woman could say she's loved so much, as you are loved by me. My tie with you is forever."
I had struggled with my feelings toward Bella, thinking that they could be justified by my loneliness and because, in the last months, I had experienced the crumbling of all my hopes. But then I had been shaken up by her. I had never felt so cared for as Bella made me feel. She hadn't asked anything of me, had offered me her sweetness, gentleness, kind words– all without a second thought. Even when she wasn't with me, not only had she thought about me, but she prayed for me because she cared for me. There had been a time when she was convinced that I had had a role in her parents' death and in the destruction of her life; nevertheless, she had asked her god to help me.
In the stillness of the night, I allowed myself to imagine how my life with Bella would have been under different circumstances. My parents' marriage had been arranged by their families, but I could remember a time when there was serenity and fondness between them. Through Jaspis and Alica, I had seen that love could exist, but I had always thought that it wasn't meant for me–my life was following other paths.
I could see in my mind the moment when I would have asked Bella's father to allow me to marry her. I would have coped with any hurdle to persuade him that I could be worthy of his daughter. I daydreamed of Bella in her wedding attire, of her pregnant with our children, even of her with gray hair and wrinkles; she could have forever been my safe haven, my most cherished treasure.
"Forever...I want you with me forever," I murmured to her.
There weren't words to name the feelings flooding through me. I would love this girl for the rest of my life. My love for her settled into every portion of my heart.
But our time together had been cut short. I had to earn her trust and was aware that it wasn't possible as long as she didn't know the complete truth about Felix. Maybe if she knew the truth, she would understand that sending her away had had everything to do with him. I couldn't rest, thinking about what was I going to say to her as soon as the new day came. Even worse moments were arriving: Felix's next visit was approaching in a matter of days.
I tightened my embrace around Bella and hummed to her, hoping she could continue to sleep. I was still surprised that she had preferred to stay with me rather than with Esma. My wet-nurse was her friend and was so maternal that I was sure that she would have been able to reassure Bella, even after what had happened in the stable. But Bella had chosen me.
As a Roman citizen, Bella had been raised as a free woman; I believed that her mother had emphasized the virtue of virginity as was common. I knew that some stories, as the ones of Lucretia or Virginia, were often told and re-told to young women to make them consider their chastity more important even than their own life, as it had been centuries ago for traditional Roman women.
The life of a slave was different, I had to admit; it was well-known that many pretty ones were used as sex slaves. But I had never taken advantage of a servant, and I had always tried to avoid it happening in my house or on the farm. As long as Bella had been in the villa, she had shared a room with Esma. Then, since Iacomus had his own wife, a young and healthy woman, I had thought that...my blood boiled as I considered that Bella, my Bella, had risked being raped by the same person to whom I had entrusted her safety. The thought that, in a certain way, she had lost her innocence today, that she had had to discover that men were capable of any horror, made me tremble with rage. I had dreamed of her body, I had wanted her with a deep passion, but I would have never forced her. She had suffered very much because of Felix, and I wanted to give her only joy when we were together.
I draped a blanket on her. "Sleep well, my love," I murmured to her. Would I have the courage to call her "love" when she was awake?
"Suns may set, and suns may rise again:
but when our brief light has set,
night is one long everlasting sleep."
The words of the poem returned, and something clenched inside me. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to lose Bella. The thought that I could have lost her because of Iacomus–that we were surrounded by danger because of Felix–terrified me. It felt as the air had been sucked out from my chest.
Just one more day. I hoped to have at least one more day to live. I wasn't going to let it pass away without telling Bella how much I loved her.
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Chapter Notes
"Mentula" was a basic obscenity for penis, used also as a personal insult. For example, Catullus in his epigram 105 calls a man, Mamurra, "mentula."
Some of the words that Antonius whispers to Bella are borrowed from a poem by Catullus (poem 87).
Lucretia is a legendary figure of the Roman Republic. She was raped by the king's son and then committed suicide. Her rape and death were the immediate cause of the revolution that overthrew the monarchy, drove the king's family from Rome and established the Republic. About Virginia/ Verginia, instead, you can find a synopsis of her story on Wikipedia (see: Verginia).
About underwear: Antonius wears a subligaculum; it was a form of underwear worn by both men and women in ancient Rome.
Author's Notes
Romanward gratias agit to Camilla10, LJSummers, Duskwatcher2153, Marlena516, and Jmolly. Thanks to Project Team Beta.
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