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"Come now; let us get you out of those filthy things!" Albina chattered merrily as she tested the bath water with one small, rounded white foot. When Calliliana drew back and clutched her bundle of belongings more closely across her chest, the servant girl giggled and added, "I'm hardly going to bite you, Aemilia. Now Mara here," at this the merry spirit- maid burst into a fit of laughter, "might do something just like that!" Mara uttered a noise low in her throat that was supposed to resemble laughter…but to Calliliana, it sounded more like a loathsome growl that only further enhanced Albina's point.
"I feel just fine, truly…" she lied, blushing hotly as she spoke the falsehood. She knew that nothing in the world would feel as welcome to her as the hot water of a bath on her bruised and battered skin…
Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the unwelcome appearance of Mara's swarthy face thrust into her line of vision.
"Nonsense, Girl. Orders we were given, and orders we must obey. Give me your bundle." Calliliana instinctively clutched her belongings closer to her, not wishing the rough-looking woman to gain access to them; Mara seemed to view this as a challenge. "Give them to me, I said," she repeated, as she roughly snatched the clothing away from the younger woman. Calliliana released them with a short cry of pain—Mara had jerked her arms with such force, the old pain from the hell-night before had surged through her once more like liquid flame. Albina looked at her curiously.
"Why did you cry out? She did not strike you…Oh my!" the young woman gasped loudly and covered her cherubic mouth with one hand. Calliliana gazed at her curiously, unsure as to what had elicited such a reaction from the normally cheerful girl…until she looked down at herself.
The blood of her slain loved ones still liberally spotted the front of her garment, enough to make it look as if she herself had been grievously wounded. Before the maiden could say anything, Mara stepped close to her once more and yanked at her tunic.
"Here now, Wench—we now nothing about you. You look as innocent as a maid, no doubt, but behind those pretty flashing eyes of yours…" she looked scathingly at her new rival down the bridge of her eagle-like nose, "…behind those eyes lurks a demon I'll wager!" The eyes of the younger woman did flash fire then, and she painfully wrenched herself from her accuser's grasp.
"I shall thank you to mind your own business! You know nothing about me, nor are you like to, now!" She turned her back to the two onlookers, and wordlessly began unfastening her tunic. Her face burned with firebrands of shame as she disrobed—she was a modest creature by nature, and hated to be exposed before others in any way…
Though you exposed yourself before a MAN last night…what are two women?
Calliliana bit her lips to stifle the evil tormentor within—how she hated the thorny goads of her own conscience, how they pained her more terribly than would a voice from another human being!
As hastily as she possibly could, Calliliana descended, or rather leapt, into the largest bath-pool, and allowed the hot water to sooth and caress her skin, like the arms of a patient lover. The damsel had fervently hoped that her movements would have been swift enough to prevent the other girls from noticing the distressing marks upon her body—but she had no such good fortune.
Although Albina shied away from making any more comments about the state of the strange, beautiful newcomer, she had eyes in her head as well as any other young woman. She cringed inwardly as she saw the livid bruises and angry marks decorating the maiden's white flesh—some of them bore an odd resemblance to the imprints of teeth and of fingers—but the maiden was too naïve as of yet to know what they meant.
For all of her ugliness, Mara was not naïve, and she knew. She knew.
After her refreshing bath, the two servant girls provided their new companion with fresh, clean garments, though neither of them spoke to her as they aided her in dressing. Calliliana was grateful for this indeed; her heart was still too full of sorrow and pain to say much, if anything, at all. She allowed the two to lead her to the small room she was to be sharing with them, and watched as Albina carefully set her parcel of belongings in a corner. "It is quite comfortable here," she said softly, not quite able to raise her merry blue eyes to meet Calliliana's gaze, "I hope that you shall like it." Mara said nothing, though her feline eyes flashed angrily—if she had her way, this pretty little chit would soon be out on the streets!
Mara was a Jewish-born woman of Arabia who had been taken by a small party of soldiers on their way to Rome. She was sold in the slave market as a labor-woman, due to her lack of beauty and her strong build—but something about the regal, arrogant way she carried herself fascinated one of the younger soldiers in the party. He had bid and bought her for himself—and thus it was that Mara of Arabia came to live in the household of Antonius and Sylvia. She was not friendly to anyone, save sometimes to the joyous little Albina—small, smiling Albina, who was not a slave, but a paid servant—the daughter of a deceased friend of Sylvia— and who had somehow been able to coax the only smiles ever seen from those frozen lips. She was valued for her strength in the gardens and in manual labor that would have most often fallen to a man—but something about her bearing had appealed to Sylvia as well. The benevolent lady had promoted the woman to the much more luxurious position of lady's maid, along with vivacious Albina. Together they had served for approximately a year before the arrival of the lovely Calliliana, whose combination of such great beauty and such deep sadness mystified and rather frightened Albina.
As Mara moved about the room, aiding Albina in setting it to rights for the other young woman, she could not keep herself from casting fervent glances at the Grecian slave. She was nowhere near as tall as she, that was certain—but oh, what beauty! What wretched, glorious beauty! Mara hated her for her sunny waves of golden hair. She despised her for her sea-green eyes that alternately flashed defiant fire and were quenched with crystal tears. She loathed her for her petite, slender figure and tiny feet and hands. But most of all she hated her for her mystique.
She knew, oh how well Mara knew, that beautiful women with a close-guarded secret secured in their hearts proved a great challenge and enigma to a man—and that his fervent desire was to win that beautiful prize for himself!
She knew that her master, Antonius, was handsome and young and otherwise unengaged—but that he was a fool where a beauty with a heart was concerned. It was obvious to her and to all that this new maiden, this Calliliana whom he had brought as a "present for his sister" was a beauty of rare quality—and that her heart was a cavern of treasured secrets, guarded more closely by her tormented mind that by a frenzied dragon in his cave.
This all Mara knew; it scorched her heart as a flame-burst and made her nearly ill with hatred.
For all the passion of this sick and twisted mind, heart, and body that slaved within the plain young woman was given in love and desire for her master.
Antonius retired that night early; he could not stop thinking of the beautiful girl he had just acquired for his sister. The young man had not yet shared the story of Aemilia with her new mistress; he was afraid that the over-kind Sylvia would try to talk to the maiden. And that would only make things worse.
The young Roman stretched out upon his bed, folded his hands beneath his head, and shut his eyes. There was the face of Aemilia, staring into his heart with a look of poignant pain and sorrow. He sat up quickly and shook his head, frightened almost by the intensity of the desire he felt for this woman—this girl.
"If only I could spare her more pain," he thought to himself, cringing inwardly as he recalled her look of stricken anguish and remembered her tortured cries. "This pitiful little maid has been through so much—I would interpose my very body between anything else that attempts to harm her, though it would cost my life!"
And thus it was that young Antonius knew he had fallen in love.