Hey everyone! Hope you all had a Merry Christmas. This is a longer chapter than usual, hope you don't mind.
It is pretty dark near the end, but it will only give you one MORE reason to despise Marcus Agrippa…as if you needed one lol.
Enjoy!
"Mara, come here immediately!" At the sharp sound of her mistress's voice, the slave woman nearly dropped an expensive vase that she held.
"Yes, Domina?" she asked, almost timidly, as she noticed the look of surprise and consternation on her mistress's face. "What…what has happened?" Wordlessly, Sylvia let fall a yellowed piece of parchment to the tiled floor.
"This letter…Calliliana…she has left us." Mara successfully mastered the small smile that crept unheeded and undesired to the corners of her down-turned lips as she took the missive daintily between two fingers and perused its contents.
"My Dear Friends,
You cannot know with what joy I have received the many kindnesses which you have afforded me in this time of my trials. From the moment I met you, I never lacked for love or friendship—you brought me the only peace I have known in many months.
I fear that it is time for me to take my leave of you now, however—I cannot bear to be a burden to you any longer. This child that grows within me will certainly present more troubles for you than I care to contemplate—and I will not have you put to any further inconvenience. I know without a doubt that I will miss you dearly, for I already love you both as my own family. You are, in the truest sense of the words, the brother and sister I never was given.
Please do not come searching for me; I shall be alright. I am young and strong and able of mind and body, and I am sure that I can easily find work while this child is not yet too cumbersome.
I thank you again for all that you both have done for me. Rest assured that my love is with you, that I will miss you, and that I shall remain
Your friend,
Calliliana Maximinus."
"What think you of that?" Sylvia asked brokenly, unashamed of the tears that splashed down her bronzed cheeks. Mara snorted and bowed her head in order to hide the unearthly gleam from her golden tigress-eyes.
"I think, Domina, that she is very ungrateful to you and Milord Antonius." Sylvia shook her head.
"Not ungrateful, confused. She knew that we would help her care for her child, yet she felt that she could not burden us further with her troubles…" The lovely young woman sighed and added quietly, "my brother was even going to take her to wife…" Anger exploded in the brain of the slave-girl, anger and hatred unlike anything she had ever known before. Yet, in the midst of her fury, there was happiness as well—had she not gotten rid of the imposing beauty, her master would likely have wed her soon enough to cover her shame.
"Perhaps it is for the best. She was not like you, Domina, and not like my master. I know of her secrets, and deadly they were…" Mara uttered the careless words before she could snatch them back; she could have cut out her tongue with fury when she saw a suspicious gleam of understanding dawn in the tear-filled eyes of her mistress. With one fluid motion, she darted forward and grasped the edge of the slave woman's stola in her long-fingered hands.
"What do you know of her disappearance, Mara?" The servant did not tremble; boldly she faced the accusing eyes of her mistress.
"I know nothing, Mistress." Sylvia twisted her hands in the coarse fabric of the stola, causing it to bunch and squeeze uncomfortably around the young woman's neck.
"I shall ask you again. It is obvious to me now that you know more about our mysterious young comrade then you let on…"
"I am sure that I do not know what you mean, Domina…" Mara choked as her garment transformed into a noose under the powerful hands of her mistress. Sylvia looked deep within her eyes, attempting to descry any flicker of doubt or fear hidden within their golden glow.
"You know that my brother is now away from Rome, Mara; you know that he cares deeply for any woman in pain. He alone would have saved you from my wrath if what you say proves false. I shall ask you once more, and finally: what do you know of the disappearance of Calliliana?"
Of course Sylvia could not have known it, but her words only further strengthened the resolve of the hateful woman before her. By first speaking of the intentions of her brother towards the beautiful Grecian maiden, then by switching it around to convince Mara of his care for all women—the mistress had at last given the slave hope for what she desired the most. Ugliness and hatred in its bitterest form faced desperation and loveliness fearlessly, and their eyes met.
"I know nothing." Sylvia wrenched her hands away from the slave woman's stola, and covered her face with them as sobs shook her slender body. Mara stumbled awkwardly for a few moments; the breath of life was slow in once again filling her atrophied lungs. "I am sorry for your loss, Domina. Is there anything that I can do?" The young woman lifted a tear-stained face to her slave, her lips trembling.
"Forgive me for my cruelty. I did not mean to hurt you…I was just so desperate for answers…" Mara stepped behind her mistress and gently massaged her shaking back.
"It is forgotten. Come," she placed her hands lightly under the quaking arms of her lady and guided her towards her chambers, "you need rest. It has been a trying day for you, Domina…" When Sylvia nodded in acquiescence and slumped wearily into the arms of her slave, Mara knew that her work was complete; she had won.
Calliliana was gone forever from the house of Antonius and Sylvia.
Her master—and the heart of her master—were now free.
The tigress had warred against the doe and was now feasting upon her tender flesh.
His touch was so gentle. So caressing. So filled with love, and the strongest desire…
His arms wrapped tenderly about her waist; his lips drew close to hers and hovered above them. "I love you," he breathed upon her, the heat of his breath causing tiny shivers of delight and yearning to flutter through her body. She wove her hands through his curling hair, closed her eyes, and waited…
The feel of his hands upon her body were rough now; no where near the gentle caressing desire that they had held before. She felt as if her hips would burst as he kneaded them brutally; she wished that she could cry out to relieve the pain of his touch. Her eyes snapped open in shock—wherefore would her Leander, her gentle, loving Leander, treat her so?
The face above hers was no longer that of her husband, but the demon-visage of Marcus Agrippa. She opened her mouth in a soundless cry of horror as he threw back his head and roared…roared like a lion about to devour his pray…
Calliliana awoke to the rousing chorus of her own cries of terror. With trembling hands, she searched the bed upon which she lay for her husband's body; she tried desperately to find his arm to drape it over her shaking shoulders. It was then, as she realized that she lay alone, that the horrible memories accosted her dizzied senses and wove their potent webs of pain about her mind like so many venomous spiders.
Her husband was no more.
Her friends knew not where she had been taken.
She was little more than a prisoner in the house of the man who had stolen her innocence.
She was with child…with HIS child…
The maiden bowed her head and wept bitterly, for nothing in that moment could assuage the pain that coursed through her—pain of both mind and body. She hoped against hope that Marcus Agrippa would take pity upon her in her state of pregnancy and would leave her for the time being…but what would occur after the birth of his child? A sickening thought hit her mind with as much force as a blow as she recalled that she was a slave—Leander had purchased her and restored her freedom to her—but her cruel tormentor had only to say the word, and she would be helpless once more. "I am Rome," she recalled him saying, with a nauseating sense of dread…and what Rome decreed for her subjects, no man on earth could alter!
Except one of course, the One who had died and had risen years ago to save mankind from the clutches of all tyrants. Calliliana felt tears rise to her eyes as she thought of how long it had been since she had last called upon Him to aid her in her troubles…
The door to the room opened at precisely that moment, before the words of a prayer could even form upon her lips. The frightened woman clutched the bedclothes against her chest, praying fervently that her kind benefactress had found her once more…
"Are you…are you alright, Domina?" the voice of a maiden, whispered tenderly in the dark. Calliliana strained her eyes in the gloom, attempting to descry the speaker—when the flare of a lighted candle burst its brightness upon her eyes. She blinked against the sudden shock of light momentarily, then was able to discern the slender form of Lavina coming towards her with a thick tallow candle. "Do you require anything now that you are awake?" Calliliana groaned and rubbed her forehead.
"Water please…I need water." Lavina nodded and moved towards an earthenware pitcher that she had brought; as she turned Calliliana observed a furious bruise upon the side of her face, lividly brought to light by the candle she held.
"Did he…did he do that to you?" she whispered quietly. The slave girl looked startled, then quickly covered the mark with her hand.
"Forgive me I…I did not know that you could see that…" The pregnant woman rested her head back against the pillows and heaved a weary sigh.
"Has he hurt you much?" She heard the sound of water being poured, and realized with a start just how long it had been since she had had something to drink. As soon as the goblet was placed into her hands, she sought its rough rim with her lips and hastily imbibed its contents. Lavina sighed as well, and perched carefully on the side of her bed.
"I will not lie to you. He uses me almost every night now, and he has for months." The slave did not make mention of the fact that she had willingly sacrificed her innocence for Calliliana; she did not want to upset the frightened girl again. "It is my hope that I may provide some distraction for him while you are in this state…" The Grecian woman shook her head, loose golden curls swaying about her face like the shredded petals of a sunflower.
"I will not have that, my friend." Lavina tucked her feet delicately beneath her, wincing sharply at the pain as she did so. She seemed to hurt all over now…
"It is up to him, I suppose. We have no say in the matter. I believe, I truly believe, that we reside in the house of the devil. We live in hell." Calliliana leaned forward and tenderly took the hands of the young woman.
"There is one greater than the devil, Lavina, one who has triumphed over hell." To her dismay, she heard the other girl give a strangled sob.
"I used to believe that, I used to believe that there was a God. I no longer do…where is He now? Surely he would favor his people; surely he would save me from my disgrace…"
"You it was who told me to have faith after I was abused, my friend. Take courage, and take comfort. I have heard it said that the timing of God is not our own...perhaps he has some great plans yet for Marcus Agrippa…"
"And what plans might those be?" Lavina felt her young friend's grip tighten convulsively upon her hand as the man in question strode into the room. To her surprise, Calliliana began to speak softly, her voice as low and as frightened-sounding as the chirp of a bird before a tempest.
"Plans to give you hope and a future, Milord. That is what the God of our faith has declared for all on this earth." Marcus looked momentarily stunned—that this woman, this frail little woman, would dare to utter the words of the Christian Scriptures under his roof, when she knew full-well what befell the followers of the Christ…
"What did you say?" his voice was as deep and as menacing as the thunder that suddenly rumbled deep in the south. Lavina bit her lip and gazed as her friend in awe and terror, for she knew not what she had just done.
"You…you heard me, Milord. Though you have done great evil, there is yet hope for you. Our God is not willing to cast you aside just yet—one such as you has the power to do great good upon this earth and achieve great things for the good of all!" Marcus tilted his head on one side as if thinking. Did he not remember hearing such things as a young boy, so many years ago? That there was a will for him on this earth greater than any he himself could conceive of or achieve?
The general shut his eyes momentarily and took stock of what he now was: a fearless general in the army of the Emperor Commodus of Imperial Rome—yet he felt no loyalty.
He had led many victories and had suffered no retreats—yet he felt no peace.
He had bedded many women—yet he felt no love. What, then, was he missing? Was he outside of the will of a Greater Power?
Lavina's eyes widened as she observed her master. She had expected him to drag the courageous girl from her bed and beat her…or worse…but he actually appeared to be taking her words to heart.
"And how would you know this?" Calliliana shut her eyes and breathed deeply, praying for the strength to go on.
"I thought that I was lost when first I landed on these shores. I was young and naïve and horribly frightened; I was sold as a slave Milord!" Marcus felt his body tense with desire when he heard her words. So that was her secret! She was not some high-born lady of Greek nobility who had married a wealthy Roman…she was a slave. A simple slave who had been…
"I was ransomed, Milord, ransomed by a man who taught me to love him and how to love. He saved me not only from a life of pain and degradation, but also from that which I was planning—I had determined that if I was sold as a slave, I would slay myself before any man could lay a hand upon me. I know that if it had not been for Le—for my husband—I would be a dead woman now." Lavina's breath caught in her throat as she observed a look of pure hatred fill the doubting eyes of Marcus Agrippa—Calliliana could not know it, of course, but by speaking of her husband once more, she had destroyed any hope of winning Agrippa to her cause. She had sealed her own fate with her reckless words.
"Get up." Calliliana raised her eyes from the bedclothes, where they had been stubbornly fixed during her speech, and tilted her head.
"Milord?" Lavina risked a glance at her master and fear filled her heart as she saw that any flickers of mercy that had been dancing about in the hell-fires of the man's eyes had now been extinguished. She jumped away from the bed as Agrippa roughly tore the blankets away from the brave young woman and jerked her from the bed.
"I will teach you to be so foolish as to speak the words of the Christians in my house, you little whore. Before this night is over, you will regret what you have said!" Fear filled Calliliana's eyes, and she attempted to fall to her knees in supplication.
"Please, please I meant no harm…spare me, I beg of you. Milord, spare your child!" A mirthless smile stole its way across the storm-cloud face of the general as he beheld the beautiful girl, quaking on her knees before him. He ruthlessly yanked her to her feet by the roots of her hair, ignoring her sharp cry of pain.
"I will not violate you this night, idiot, and not for some time to come apparently." He flicked his hand at Lavina, who cowered farther back into the deep shadows of the room. "That is what she is for." Water tossed about in the emerald seas of Calliliana's eyes as she contemplated the fate of her friend.
"What…what of me?" she whispered fearfully, terrified witless to hear of her own punishment. Marcus grinned as he roughly shoved her from the room.
"Let us just say that your back will be so ravaged, you will be sleeping on your face for weeks to come." As the horror of what he was saying dawned upon her, the maiden cried aloud in panic and fear.
"Spare me, I beg of you…spare your child…" her sobs were lost to the listening ears of Lavina as she was dragged away from the room. The slave girl fell to the floor, her anguished face bathed in tears.
"Oh Lord in heaven," she whispered, as she heard a piercing cry echo throughout the villa of her master, "give her strength! Stay his hand, or at least let her fall into a merciful sleep...take pity upon her!" Lavina knew then, that if her friend could endure her torment and still speak of her God with faith and with dignity, then she could do so as well. She would watch, oh yes she would watch, and see if the maiden's faith sustained her…and if it did, then she could believe in God again as well.
For the first time in many weeks, a small flicker of hope began to burn brightly in her tarnished soul.