4

Sorry it took me so long to update this time! this chapter is soooo sad. But I promise that things will get better in the end. Thanks again to Montypython61!

"Wake up now, Woman. Wake up!" Calliliana awoke to the feeling of a strong hand jostling her shoulder; she shook herself slightly and looked up.

A man was looming over her, a man with a ponderously kind face and walnut-hued eyes that were filled with curiosity and concern. Due to the fact that he was stooped over her, it was hard for the maiden to tell whether or not the man was tall—but she did notice that he had lovely black hair falling about his face in glorious disarray—hair shadowy enough to make the bronze hue of his skin appear pale. "Who are you?" she asked quietly, her troubled emerald eyes roving curiously over his face and form—it was then her breath caught in her throat. The man was wearing the uniform of a soldier of Rome—and she had remembered.

Calliliana attempted to scramble to her feet—but her haste caused her world to swim before her eyes once more. The young soldier half caught her in his arms as she slumped towards the ground. "Are you alright?" he questioned, his concern evident in his surprisingly tender tone of voice. The young woman looked upon him as she answered, and it seemed to the Roman that never before had he seen such eyes. Beautiful eyes they were, worthy of the face that framed them—but eyes devoid of any life, of any hope, and of any love. He was gazing into the eyes of a statue.

"I knew one who was executed here this morn," she murmured so softly, the young man had to stoop close to catch her breathy whisper. The young soldier attempted to force his facial muscles into the hard mask of oblivion he had been trained to assume—and failed.

"Who did you lose, Domina?" Calliliana began to cry softly, in soundless, racking sobs that shook her exhausted body.

"He was c-called Leander—Leander Maximinus." The soldier scanned the row of crosses until his eyes came to light on the empty cross bearing the name of Leander.

"He died not long ago, Domina—and I hope that it brings you some comfort, at least, to know that he died bravely without a murmur of a complaint." The girl shook soundlessly at this, and furiously wiped at her eyes.

"He was a brave man, Sir." She stood slowly, leaning heavily on the compassionate young soldier for support. "Thank you."

"You are in no way fit to travel, Domina. My work here is done for now; please allow me to escort you to your home." Calliliana began to shake her head, then thought better of it. She knew nothing of Agrippa's current whereabouts, and she would much prefer to have a strong man by her side in case she did happen to encounter him. She nodded slowly.

"You have my thanks again."

"Where are you bound?" The young woman flogged her tormented mind for a suitable answer—she had to get home to her son…but if Agrippa hated her family so, would it not be folly to lead another Roman to where he might inform the commander on the whereabouts of his late rival's son? On the other hand…what were the odds that that would truly happen? The young woman realized how famished her child must be by now…

"Take me to the home of Leander Maximinus, the late jewel merchant." Calliliana felt, rather that saw, the soldier eyes upon her.

"Were you that close to the young man?" Once again, the girl did not know how to respond. If she gave the soldier her true name, and that she was Maximinus' wife, he might very well inform Marcus of where she resided. Being in that man's hands once more would surely be a fate more cruel than death…

"I was a slave in his household, Sir. I looked after his young son and tended the house together with an old servant woman. My name is Aemilia." The soldier nodded amiably.

"And mine is Antonius. Come, Aemilia, I will take you to the villa. Most assuredly you will be able to rest better there from your grief."

Calliliana allowed the young man to take her gently under the arm, and lead her from the place of her husband's grisly demise. She did not look back.

As the two approached the large villa of Maximinus, Calliliana could sense that something was amiss. A dreadful foreboding filled her heart and threatened to flood and destroy her senses with its horrific potency. She rushed ahead of her escort.

"Please," she whispered, turning to the young man in icy dread, "wait here for me, outside. I do not know what I will find within."

"Do you have any reason to believe that something is wrong?" The damsel shrugged her shoulders and attempted to act casual.

"I do not know—I only wish to find out myself. I thank you once again for your kindness—it was needed more than you can ever know. But I was close to this man's family, and I must break the news to them myself."
"Surely they would have heard that the young man was to die…"

"They keep to themselves, Sir…nothing much from the outside world slips through the cracks of these portals." So saying, Calliliana darted through the garden and up the front steps of the villa, leaving Antonius very much alone and very much confused.

"Kalyca!" she shrieked, as soon as the heavy wooden doors were shut tightly behind her, "Kalyca, where are you?" The young woman dashed frantically throughout the lower portion of the house, her eyes skipping hastily over everything that she saw in an attempt to discern her friend and her son—so far everything in the house looked untouched—they must be safe! "Where are you?" she whispered aloud, the mounting dread she felt growing ever more intense in every fiber of her body. Calliliana scampered up the stairs, her golden hair flying out wildly behind her in her haste. With her fear-dilated emerald eyes, the pallor of her skin, and the flying halo of her flaxen hair, the woman appeared as a fair white blossom, its golden petals torn and disheveled on a wind-blown day.

The maiden reached the second floor of the villa, and swiftly trod the distance to her son's nursery. There, she reasoned with herself, there they would most likely be found! It was still early in the morning…of course they were both still aslumber and had not heard her cries…Calliliana paused on the threshold to her son's room, her quivering knees compressed beneath her thin linen robe. "Kalyca?" she whispered softly. Still no answer. With trepidation so great it nearly choked her; the damsel slowly opened the door.

The small room was dim, so dim—but, of course, Kalyca had no yet risen and raised the window coverings! Calliliana did so herself, chuckling mirthlessly as she did so. How could she be so silly, to think that Agrippa would harm her family! He most likely did take issue with her husband for his religion and cared nothing for the man's family at all…

The maiden blinked against the sudden light, and shook her head slowly as if to clear it from sleep. She gazed about her then, and could easily discern Kalyca lying on the baby's pallet, one arm wrapped protectively around him. "How sweet, you darling nurse," the girl thought to herself as she slowly crept nearer, careful not to wake the two. "How could I ever have been so foolish as to think that something would have happened to you both…?" She gently placed one hand on Kalyca's shoulder--the old woman fell back towards Calliliana at the slight touch. The maiden jumped back in horror, her lips parted in a soundless cry of agony as she gazed upon the scene before her.

The ancient servant woman was cold and lifeless, her ebony eyes opened towards the sky in the unseeing gaze of death. Her wide mouth hung slack, her teeth, lips, and chin all dribbled with blood, and the few grey locks of hair that wisped about her face were matted with the red liquid as well. The rest of her body—oh the rest of it! was covered in the blood from her slit throat—and, as Calliliana saw with a genuine wail of sorrow, the blood of her son.

All fear of death left the maiden as she reached out and tenderly caught up the body of her dead child and nestled it against her breast. The babe looked much the same as his elder, though he was completely covered in gore given his size. "Your throat too," murmured the tortured woman as she rocked herself painfully back and forth on her heels, "the demons could not even spare one as young as you!" She wept then as she had not wept in her life…all of the emotions of the previous weeks…months…years…gave vent to the fountains which were her sorrow! Calliliana crouched near the body of her friend Kalyca and her tears bedewed the body of her tiny son as she emitted all of her grief in piteous, heart-wrenching sobs that filled the villa with their sound.

"Domina?" Calliliana started up at the sound of a voice and turned, a wild-animal panic in her eyes and in every move of her body. If he who stood without was Agrippa, the girl felt—she KNEW—that for the first time in her life, she could kill a man.

But it was not Agrippa. Antonius, young Antonius with his empathetic eyes and tender hands, stood before her, a look of horror filling his face as he gazed at the scene before him. "Oh Domina," he murmured as he took in the dead woman and child, and the fairest creature he had ever seen besmirched with their blood. "Oh Domina." He could not say more.