4

Hey everyone! Sorry that it took so long for me to update this time, I have had some really tough stuff going on. Thanks so much to all my wonderful reviewers! You make the work worth it all. Hope that you enjoy this next installment.

Calliliana also retired soon after the other two maidens had finished fixing her a place to sleep; her troubled mind could not bear another waking moment and her body cried aloud for some rest. She felt all of her bruises lash at her as she fell upon the small pallet, and she stifled a whimper of pain. Mara and Albina stood looking at her for a few moments, malice and curiosity shining in their respective eyes. The young woman could feel herself being watched, even with her eyes shut, and finally raised herself on one elbow.

"I am indeed weary," she said slowly, attempting to keep her impatience from her voice. "I have been through much this day. Would you please leave me? I find it impossible to sleep while being watched…" Although she had half expected an argument from the women, they left the room soundlessly. As Calliliana lay back on her on her pallet however, she felt as though she could still see Mara's cat-eyes still gleaming at her within the gloomy light of the room. She turned herself on her back, careful to avoid her most tender sores, and finally closed her eyes.

There was her husband, her beloved husband, crying out her name as he was being nailed to the cross.

Agrippa laughed cruelly in his face, called her "whore", and wrote her name in the filthy ground of Rome with his rival's blood. He ground his feet upon it…

There was her son, happily bouncing on Kalyca's knee…there came ten soldiers, all of whom bore the demonic face of Marcus Agrippa; they dashed the old nurse to the ground and slashed her throat…

There was she, herself, reclining at table with the tormentor of her family. He leaned in to kiss her…

Calliliana started up with a cry loud enough to shake the foundation of the house. She gazed about her hastily; felt the cold sweat trickle down between her shoulder blades. She had been sleeping, she had been dreaming…but where was she? Was she still in her tormentor's house…in his bed…?

No. She raised a shaking hand to cover her face and groaned. No, she had been shown some kindness at last, and was residing as a servant girl in the house of that kind soldier and his lovely sister. Relief, or at least as much relief as she could feel under the circumstances, flooded her heart and her body, and released the lock she had put upon the vault of her tumultuous emotions. She wept in great, tearing sobs that sounded to those in the surrounding rooms (where the other maidens had decided to recline that night…away from the strange, sad neophyte…) as though her body was like to tear with them. Calliliana balled her fist and shoved it into her mouth, attempting with all of her might to stifle her loud cries—but she only succeeded leaving bloody teeth-gashes upon her knuckles.

"There, there, little maid, hush." The voice of a woman, whispered tenderly in the dark. She felt two strong arms slip about her waist and draw her close; she melded against her unknown comforter and gave vent to the sorrow in her heart and in her mind. "Everything will be alright," she crooned gently, as she rubbed her back and stroked her long hair, "you will heal in time." Calliliana convulsively clutched the front of the woman's sleeping robe; with her eyes closed, she could almost force her tormented mind to believe that it was her husband who held her.

"I sh-shall n-never heal," she sobbed, her body shaking with her cries. Her companion gently turned her around until faced away from her, then began to tenderly massage her back. Her fingers were strong and sure, and she moved down and over the girl's back with quick, swift movements that nearly took her breath away. There was some pain as she burrowed her fingers deep into her sore muscles, but it was the kind of tenderness that led the maiden to believe it was doing her some good at least. She gradually allowed herself to relax against her touch, all the while imagining that it was the hands of her husband who caressed her, and the face of Leander who gazed at her tenderly in the darkness.

Until the unknown's fingers unwittingly dug into a colossal bruise upon her back.

Calliliana stifled a scream and shifted away from the woman as hastily as she could, biting down hard upon her lip to keep the tears of pain from coming once more. She felt the bed rise gently as the woman lifted his weight from it, heard her walk hastily across the room, smelled the acrid scent of smoke as she lit a small lamp hanging from the ceiling…and for the first time, she could see who her comforter was.

Sylvia.

Her eyes, the rich golden-brown of the sun striking the stirred ground of Rome, were clouded over now with concern. "Forgive me," she said quietly, coming to sit beside her once more. "I did not intend to hurt you." Calliliana shook her head slowly, and let a tear slowly traverse her pale cheek.

"It was not you, truly."

"Then what made you cry out?" Calliliana raised a hand to quickly chafe at the tear that made its way down her face; in so doing she felt the thin sleeve of her night-robe slip up over her arm. Sylvia uttered an exclamation of surprise as she beheld the livid bruises upon the exposed flesh of the girl. "Who did that to you?" she whispered softly, undercurrents of rage threatening to burst forth like a murderous prisoner escaping his bonds. Calliliana looked at the young woman in confusion, then glanced down at the marks upon her arm and understood.

"I...I…" her mind tried to form some new excuse, some new falsehood. How could she tell this woman, her new mistress, what had befallen her? She might very well be cast out—for who wished to employ a whore in their service?

"Turn around." Calliliana looked blankly at her mistress.

"Why, Domina?" Sylvia frowned darkly, as one unaccustomed to being questioned by her servants.

"It is not for you to ask 'why' child. It is for me to ask all questions, and to give all answers. Now do as I say." Meekly, Calliliana obeyed.

She uttered a half-stifled cry, however, when she felt Sylvia rip apart the flimsy shoulder-seams of her dressing gown, and as she sensed the torn ends of the robe flutter down around her exposed waist. "What is this?" she gasped, as she modestly clutched the bed-clothes to the front of her half-nude body. Sylvia did not deign to answer; she merely made a thorough examination of each and every mark upon the young woman's naked back.

"Is the rest of your body like this?" she asked abruptly. A bright flush overspread Calliliana's face—surely, her new mistress was not going to examine her fully?

"Yes," she whispered softly, the humiliation of her predicament washing over her like waves over a storm-struck ship. She felt the bed rise as Sylvia stood again; heard her walk to the door.

"Lie down. Your wounds need salving, Child—I will attend to them myself." Calliliana did not hesitate to follow her orders this time; she eased herself gingerly down upon the cot once more and covered as much as she could with the bed clothes.

"What is this place?" she asked herself softly, as she closed her aching eyes against the bright lamp-light, "and who are these people who would be so kind?" She did not have long to ponder these thoughts, however, for Sylvia reappeared once more with various pots of healing liniments and balms. Much as had Lavina the morning before, the young Roman woman massaged the medicine into the maiden's injuries, never pausing to stop even when the girl winced in pain.

"Yes, I'm sure that it hurts," she said, as she continued to work the ointments into the girl's skin, "but that means that it will heal you in time." Calliliana did not utter a sound, save an occasional whimper of pain…but her red lips were redder for the blood that her teeth produced upon them.

Finally, Sylvia straightened and wiped her greasy hands upon her robe. "Thank you, Domina," Calliliana whispered softly, as she wriggled carefully into the new robe her mistress had provided for her. The tall young woman waved her hand in dismissal.

"How could I do any less? If you are to serve me, you must be in good health." The maiden nodded her head, and dipped herself low into a respectful salute.

"Still, I thank you for your kindness. It means much to me." The girl crawled into bed; she had expected that Sylvia would simply leave the room. The older woman instead made a rather impatient clicking sound with her tongue.

"Have I dismissed you yet?" Calliana looked at her with wide eyes.

"No…forgive me, Domina." She stood again, her face full of confusion. Sylvia looked her straight in the face for several moments, a question burning bright within her sun-struck eyes.

"You may sleep, of course. But first you must tell me what—or who—made such marks upon you!" A fit of violent trembling shook Calliliana so that her teeth chattered audibly—the truth! She would be found out now!

"Domina, I…" Sylvia gently took the maiden's chin in her hand, and tilted her face up so that her frightened eyes met her firm ones.

"No woman should have the marks upon her that you do without an explanation. I am not an idiot, Child…I know what made them." She looked out over the top of Calliliana's head, a vacant look in her usually clear eyes. "The most hideous of beasts it was, indeed. The one most known for its insatiable lust and hunger, the one that will stop at nothing. There are very few trainers in this world who are able to control such a beast, fewer still who can tame it. This beast is one which, in time, all women must learn to fear and respect, to feed and to satiate, to satisfy and to desire. That beast is man."

Calliliana nodded, and in a slow, halting voice, she told her mistress all of her woe.