A Stray Drop of Blood (70 page)

“
Caius has sold Abigail to the arenas. There were eight men lying in wait for me, but I just broke free. Take Miriam and the children to your mistress, I am going to follow mine. Have a loyal slave waiting for Andrew outside with the news, and get everyone to him and the villa as soon as possible. Do not let Caius know what you do. Understood?”

Panther had time only to nod his dark head before Phillip climbed out of the window and wound his way to the street. He barely glimpsed Abigail’s head as she was lifted into a cart, but it was enough. He would follow, see exactly where they took her, and do all in his power to get her out again.

His power had never felt so lacking.

“
God of my mistress,” he breathed in a tongue he had not used since he had been taken from the land that taught it to him, “if you are there, now is the time to act. She speaks of you as just and merciful; mercy would see this undeserving punishment pass from her head. Justice would see her tormentors punished instead.” He felt his jaw clench, his heart contract in pain. “Protect her, if you are the loving God she claims. Protect her where I cannot.”

~*~

Volusius did not look up from the scroll he was reading as soon as he heard them enter. It never hurt to make his underlings wait a little longer to achieve whatever business they were there for. After all, he was the one in charge, so he would do things at his leisure. He took his time in deciphering the writing before him, then rolled it back up neatly and put it aside. Only then did he look up to see who had entered. Spotting the two he had sent out an hour earlier to the Asinius house, his eyes fell with expectation on the small woman between them.

“
This is she?” He rose from his seat so that he could stride toward them. At his approach, his men dropped their hands from her arms. He noted that they had been careful enough not to bruise her alabaster skin, and he gave them a nod for their trouble.

“
Yes, sir,” the senior replied.

Volusius studied the woman. She was young, as he had expected, and beautiful, as were all the women that made their way here from that particular house. This one surpassed the others, though. He had never seen such features, and her hair was absolutely breathtaking: long and thick and glossy, dark and smooth. He stepped closer and put a finger under her chin to tilt her face up. It was unmitigated perfection, minus the defiance in her eyes. That would fade soon enough, though.

“
A lovely face.” His eyes ran over each inch of her countenance for a second time. Then his gaze followed her neck down. “Strip her.”

“
No!” She tried to protect herself even as one of his men held her still and the other ripped her clothes off with a single strong swipe. She was shaking, and tears coursed down her cheeks as she tried unsuccessfully to move her hair over her body to cover her. It would have worked much better had she not been pinned against his man.

Volusius smiled, in part at the protestations, in part at the sight before him. Her beauty did not stop at her face. Her breasts were full, firm, her stomach soft and flat, her hips setting off a small waist and leading down to shapely legs. He reached out, noting with a smile that she first shrank away, then halted when she felt the man behind her. She stiffened, closed her eyes, and averted her face. He picked up the jewel cradled between her breasts. “From whom did you steal this, wench?”

“
From Titus Asinius.” Her eyes, open again, lashed him with anger. “Why do you not call him in to reclaim it and see how he gratefully rewards you?”

Volusius snorted a laugh and let the amethyst fall back to its place. “I think I will let you keep it, instead. It will be interesting to watch her try to fight off all the other slaves over it, will it not?” He glanced at his men at this, and they both grinned their answer. He turned his attention back on her body. “I trust you are not a virgin.”

Her cheeks flushed. “The Visibullis heir I birthed would testify otherwise.”

Volusius moved with lightning speed, grasping her by the chin and pulling her closer to him, away from the man behind her. “You say that as though it should mean something to me, but let me assure you that the name of your whelp is nothing here.
You
are nothing. Your stay here will be much more pleasant if you understand that right now. You are nothing but a slave and a wench to reward my gladiators.” He released her as suddenly as he had grabbed her, then took a step back to sweep his eyes over her again. “Get her a tunic and take her down to the other women. There are games today, my fair one, and you will be the prize for the winner.”

One of the men quirked a brow. “But Ares is fighting.”

“
And if he wins, then offer her to him.” Volusius walked back across the room. “If he refuses her, then give her to the next best man.” He sat, dismissing them.

~*~

Abigail found herself being pulled back out the door, and she felt shame wash over her as they led her naked down a corridor. They passed no one, but it did not relieve her discomfort. She covered herself as best she could with her hair, but she was relieved when they led her into a small room and handed her a coarse tunic. Slipping it on, she realized that it had been a long time since she had put on such unrefined cloth.

She had never been more grateful for any garment in her life.

“
Hurry,” the second man ordered when she took a bit too long smoothing it over her. “The games will begin soon, and we do not want to miss them.”

“
What work can you do?” The first propelled her back into the hallway. “Laundry? Kitchen work? Cleaning?”

“
Any of it. I am best in the kitchen.”

“
And it would be a shame to ruin those fine hands with lye.” The second flashed a dangerous smile. “The kitchen it is.”

The first snorted. “It is surprising she can do anything at all. The other women we have received from the Asinius house were good for nothing but pleasuring a man.”

“
I am not from the Asinius house. I was a guest there, not a slave.” She knew they would not believe her, but still she insisted. Seeing the look the two men exchanged, she sighed. “I am not claiming to have never been a slave. I was. But not there. When I served, it was in the house of Cleopas Visibullis, the prefect for the Tenth Legion. I was his wife’s handmaiden, until their son married me. Now I am the mother of the Visibullis heir.”

This obviously did not phase the second man, but the first stopped and looked at her. “Cleopas Visibullis? I served with a man by that name decades ago, in Jerusalem. I was transferred shortly after he married a Jewess.”

“
That is my master and father.” A shard of light fell on her heart. She said a silent prayer of thanksgiving; it may not end up helping her, but having something in common with this man would hopefully not hurt. “Or was, before he was killed in an uprising.”

The man put a hand on his hip and glared at her. “He stole that woman from me, you know.”

Abigail felt her lips turn up. “You are not by any chance Mannas, are you?”

He narrowed his eyes still more. “I am.”

She nodded. “My mistress and mother remembers you with gratitude for being the one to make possible the introduction to the man she loved with all her heart.” She smiled. “She and her husband always remembered you in their prayers.”

This made Mannas shift uncomfortably, and the other man rolled his eyes. “Are we going to stand around all day reminiscing, Mannas, or shall we deliver her to the kitchens and get on with it?”

Mannas took her arm again and began walking. “I heard that Cleopas and his son were killed in Jerusalem, but how, if you are who you say you are, did you come to be here?”

Cynicism colored her smile this time. “Here in this building, or here in Rome? I came to the latter to claim the family estates for my son, who was born a month after my husband’s death. I was in the company of one his dearest friends, Titus Asinius, with whom he had charged our safekeeping as he lay bleeding to death. I come to the former because Titus’s father was not very pleased to learn that his son had fallen in love with me and plans to marry me.”

Mannas looked over her head at his companion, pressed his lips together. A moment later he pushed her into the kitchen and stepped away. But still she heard him murmur, “Nothing good will come of this. That woman will bring trouble upon our heads.”

She could only pray he was right.

~*~

The head slave in the kitchens stared down at her as though she were nothing but a rotting vegetable stalk. His massive arms were folded over a chest that was easily two of her, and he stood towering over her as though she were a child. “Another worthless wench from the Asiniuses. What did you do to offend the lady?”

“
It was not the lady I offended, it was the lord.” She tried not to back away. He was so large that even standing a fair distance from him, she felt as though he were encroaching on her space. But she had a feeling letting him know that would only make things worse.

The giant grunted and pointed to a corner of the room, where a woman stirred something in a huge cauldron. “Sophia came from them, too. Go help her, do whatever she says, and stay out of my way.”

Abigail bowed her head in obedience and made her way to the corner, feeling out of place and minuscule in a world that did not care about her. She silently prayed, reaching her heart heavenward without being able to find any words to express her thoughts. Help, guidance, strength, courage, patience, wisdom. . . she needed some help in all of her virtues at the moment, so she dug inside and prayed that her God would make up what she lacked.

Sophia was probably once quite beautiful. As Abigail approached her, she now looked mainly wrung out, like a once-crimson cloth left too long in the burning sun. Her hair was stringy and dry, her skin pulled taught over unfattened bones, her features sunken and withered.

When she looked up, only an echo of a light appeared in her eyes. “New?”

Abigail nodded. “Caius Asinius sent me here. Goliath over there thought I should come to you.”

Sophia nodded, not seeming very interested and probably not understanding the reference to the scriptural giant. She stirred her pot. “There are games today, so there is much to be done. The bread should be ready to knead soon, if you know how.”

“
Yes, of course.” Abigail hoped she sound meek rather than confident. She did not intend to make any enemies among the other slaves if she could help it.

“
For now, chop these.” Sophia indicated some miscellaneous vegetables beside her.

Abigail picked up the knife, fully prepared to do as she was told without any complaint. Without any words at all, if necessary.

Sophia, however, looked her way again. “How is everyone? Antonia, Vinius, Panther?”

“
Antonia and Panther are well. Vinius’s bad knees have been keeping him resting more and more, doing mainly managerial work from his bed. I have not seen much of him at all, I am afraid.”

Sophia nodded, darting a glance at her with a mouth twisted up. “The other women?”

“
I have not seen much of them, either. Titus brought me into the house as his guest, though his father would not receive me as such.”

“
Ah, you were Titus’s,” Sophia said with a sigh, as though that was the truly important part of what she had said. “He is always possessive of those he chooses himself. It has caused contention between him and his father more than once. Then Caius takes whom he wills, Titus finds another, and the cycle continues. It is only when Caius becomes too attached that one of us ends up here.” The faded woman looked around her. She turned her eyes back on her companion. “I assume you will go to a gladiator tonight.”

“
The winner.” She heard the fear in her voice. “They mentioned a man named Ares.”

Sophia took the opening for a new conversation with a slight smile. “Ah, yes, our legendary war god. Ares has been here for years, he is the favorite among the people. He hopes to win his freedom one day, to go home to his wife and children, or so I hear.” She shook her head. “No one has ever seen such devotion in a man before. He fights fiercely, for a cause. It is custom here that the better the fight, the better the woman the man gets as reward. Ares has had the best of us offered to him, a newer, prettier one after every win, but he turns us all away. They have tried boys, girls, other men, but everyone is refused. They say he wishes to remain faithful to his wife, but let us be reasonable. No man is so strong for so long. Most of us think that he is simply. . . incapable of taking his pleasure.”

Abigail felt her face heating once more. “And when he refuses? Then what?”

Sophia shrugged. “Then the guards respond to his knock and take you elsewhere. Once you are relegated to the lower fighters, several elsewheres a night.”

Dread coiled low in Abigail’s stomach. She did not know how much indignity she would have to suffer, but she decided there and then to do all she could to avoid it. Not only for her sake, but for Titus’s, her children’s. She would not be the only one hurt if what looked inevitable happened. It could very well eat at Titus, and it would be something the boys would remember until they understood. Even as she thought out what must be done, tears gathered in her eyes.

“
Do not waste your energy on tears,” Sophia said, gentleness in her tone. “They help nothing and only anger those in charge.”