Enslaved (4 page)

As he trotted through the gates atop his horse, he sent his daughter a stern look. She smiled and waved as if this engagement threat was of no concern.

“Pictrix,” she called over her shoulder. “When the men break for midday meal and their hour-long rest afterwards, go tell Canus to meet me in his cell.”

“What are you planning?”

“To leave this place with him.”

Pictrix grabbed Marcella’s hand. “It will be dangerous. I beg you not to. Bestia will take out his rage on me.”

“You can accompany us.”

“I have never known freedom. If we were caught, I would be beaten or worse.”

“Canus will know what to do. I must speak with him. Send word.”

“Yes, Marcella.”

Pictrix hurried to the outdoor dining hall whilst Marcella made her way to Canus’ room.

He appeared within a minute. “Your slave summoned me. What happened?” He closed the door behind him. Cracks of sunlight streamed through. He clutched her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

“Father knows about us.”

“Damn it, Marcella. You should not have come to me last night.”

“So this is my fault?”

“I own as much of the guilt. I blame myself for pretending we could one day have something more than a secret affair.”

“Do not say that. We can have more.”

“We are fools! Our discovery was inevitable.”

“I can—I
will
find a way to fix everything.” Those desperate feelings surfaced again in a haze similar to liquefied obsidian. The poisonous berries, the valerian root, and the lies she told all buoyed in the dark pool, but her brain swam in the opposite direction. She could and would find a good way to fix everything. She refused to believe otherwise.

He slumped onto his bunk, appearing very tired. “In the meantime, which of us is being removed from this place?”

“Had I not succumbed to his demands, both you and Pictrix would be gone.”

“What demands?”

She wiped off her tears and steadied her voice. “He means to marry me off to another.”

The color drained from his face. “Of course. Why send me away when seeing you punished is worse. Who will you wed?”

“A soldier from the Licinia family. I do not want to.” She sat beside him and grabbed his hands. “You and I have to run away.”

He scoffed. “We cannot. Bestia would never stop searching for us, and I would be branded your abductor. Where can we run and how would we survive? I know little of farming, and I do not intend to have you suffering because of that.”

Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. Her mature self knew that running away was a dumb plan. Her childish self could only cry in admittance and attempt to deflect blame. “You give me up so easily?”

“No, but what future is there for us? I face death many times, and the only comfort is believing I lived valiantly for you. You being with another man is not as bad as the vision of you dying from starvation or sickness at my hand. At least we would be here together. Nothing will change. I know your heart belongs to me, and I have faith that you will make your father see that.”

“What if I cannot?”

“Then perhaps you were only with me because it is forbidden, or if a different man was champion, maybe you would be sharing his bed.”

She slapped his face. “How can you say that? Maybe I
should
have been sharing a different man’s bed.”

“Marcella...” He reached for her, but she dodged his grasp and dashed away. He would regret his words.

****

Marcella strode around the atrium’s rainwater pool, belittling herself for reacting so harshly to Canus and then chiding herself for sympathizing with him. He’d practically called her a whore.
What did you expect after stupidly instigating an affair with a gladiator?

As was habit during her argumentative monologues, she anxiously twisted a length of hair around her first digit. She was extra worrisome since tonight she was having dinner with a prospective husband, one she knew was a good man.
Will I hurt him with my rejection? What if he is being commanded to do this and has no interest in me?

“Our guest is here,” her father announced at the door. “Macer Licinia, you know my daughter, Marcella.”

Macer entered the villa with a glowing white smile. The leather strips hanging from his uniform’s belt swished against his tunic when he walked. “Pleased to see you. It has been too long,” he said with a grin and a wink.

He stood a few inches taller than Marcella as he embraced her, but his ample body compensated for the shorter stature. If she closed her eyelids she could convince herself she was hugging a tree.

“Yes, far too long.”

“My apologies. I am late for dinner. I was just promoted to centurion, and the ceremony delayed me.”

Marcella couldn’t help but be impressed with Macer’s achievement. Centurions commanded sixty to eighty men, were paid well, and regarded in high esteem for their mental and physical dexterity.

“Congratulations,” her father said. “It is I who must apologize. My illness requires that I retire to my room for rest and will not be able to socialize. You two stay and talk a while.”

“Yes, sir,” they answered simultaneously.

Scipio escorted her father to his bedroom, leaving her alone with Macer.

“Where is your little brother?” Macer asked.

“He is playing games with Pictrix.” Her father made sure that she and her suitor would be undisturbed.

“I remember at his age we frolicked in this pool when my family visited.”

“Yes, we did. Let us trade water for wine tonight though.” She motioned toward the dining room. A full jug and two cups sat atop the table. Alcohol helped calm her nerves. “How are your sister and brother?”

“As horrid as ever. Crassa is so obsessed with her social status that she married our first cousin because his father is a praetor. Lucullus is an ass. You know. You attended his wife’s first delivery.”

“Oh, that was a messy birth.” She poured them each a cup of wine. “The baby was breech and the doctor tried to turn it. The mother was in agony and called out repeatedly for Lucullus. He refused to come until you dragged him in.”

“He is a selfish wretch.”

She wanted to guzzle her liquid courage but sipped it so as not to lose her wits too soon. “How are your parents?”

“Quite a transition. I say wretch, and you think of my mother and father.”

“I did not mean…”

He interrupted her sentence with a chuckle. Lines creased around his mouth and eyes as he laughed. “I am joking.”

Marcella smiled. She did think his parents were snobbish, and he probably knew that.

“My mother is especially ready for me to settle down and give her grandchildren. Marcella, I do not want you to think I am forcing this betrothal. It is our fathers. Not that you are not a vision of beauty, of course. I have admired you for years.”

She hadn’t suspected his feelings were any more than cordiality. His actions hadn’t revealed the contrary. “Why did you never speak of it?”

“One’s certain proclivities are not always reciprocated.”

“Such as?”

“I vow only to tell my wife.” He clinked his cup against hers. “Until then.”

“You are enjoying your particular bachelorhood.”

“Yes, this span of peace keeps me on friendly soil. I am also fortunate to serve in the militia that remains tightly within Rome’s borders rather than along Hadrian’s Wall, which is a thousand miles north. We are able to come and go more freely. I would never be comfortable if I lost that freedom, as I am sure you would not either.” He took a long drink of wine.

“Come to plain words.”

“I am aware of certain indiscretions available to the women of a ludus. I would not deny my wife the right to enjoy those during our marriage, as long as she was as generous in my regard. Marcella, I do not expect you to be completely faithful. Are we at an agreeable understanding?”

He seemed to mistakenly assume she was unmarried because she preferred having many lovers. “I do not know if I like what you are insinuating.”

“It was not meant as an insult. Forgive my frankness.” He bowed his head.

“All may be forgiven depending on your intentions regarding my father’s business once he dies?”

“I have my own income, and I will inherit substantial wealth from my father. I have no need to sell this school. I rather enjoy the games. Our family has an honest reputation. We never go back on our word. You and I have always been friends. I pray it can grow into something more.” He caressed her hair. “If you marry me, I guarantee this—nothing will change for you here. You may even find some aspects quite gratifying.”

She could only guess what other aspects he was referring to, but she certainly liked the piece about nothing changing for her and their having an open marriage. “You know I possess ways of having you extinguished from the earth should you betray this promise.”

“I do. Powerful women intrigue me. It does not hurt that you are also extremely sexy.”

He leaned inward and paused. She didn’t recoil. He pressed his lips to her cheek, and she didn’t turn away.

“Is that a ‘yes?’”

“I shall thoroughly ruminate your proposal.”

“Excellent! I am visiting Cales tomorrow. May I accompany you to the games there?”

The sight of her with another man would capture Canus’ attention. She thought of the envious creature he would become, so dangerously angry he would equal the nine-headed serpent-beast, Hydra. “Please do.”

****

Marcella tossed and turned in her bed, waking herself from a strange dream. In it, she relived the time she had spied on Pictrix and Scipio having sex, but in this case, another man was present. Then suddenly, she no longer spied from her hiding spot. She became Pictrix, Scipio morphed into Canus, and the other person was Macer. They were sharing her body, passing her between them, and she loved it.

Her subconscious opened a door her conscious self hadn’t allowed. The idea of this sexual trinity dampened her thighs and the underlying sheet. She stared at the ceiling, speculating if Canus and Macer would be as accepting.

She refused to go to Canus tonight and tell him about the dream. She was still brooding over the cruel words he had said to her.
Was she with him because it was forbidden and the clandestine trysts more exciting? If a different man was champion, would his bed be the one she occupied?

She threw off her blankets and ambled toward the bath in the west wing. A long soak would clear her head. She undressed and stepped into the tub. As she soaped up her body, negative thoughts bubbled back to her mind’s surface.

What if Canus didn’t love her and was only with her because she allowed it? A part of her believed so. He hadn’t reacted the way she deemed appropriate when she spoke of marrying another. Macer was a brave legionary from a wealthy family. Shouldn’t her lover envy such a man? If he truly cared for her, he would be jealous. She didn’t bother asking Pictrix’s opinion, being that she didn’t want Marcella to run away in the first place and was probably grateful Canus refused.

She inhaled deeply and shut her eyes. She’d known for many reasons her relationship with Canus would be short-lived. He was a gladiator, killing without remorse or guilt, and fated to die sooner than most. How could one so disconnected from his emotions ever love her? Even if his life was spared, his family was of nomadic stock, which righteous Romans frowned upon. Her father would never bless their union, nor would anyone else. For all those facts, she should never have fallen in love with him.

“Marcella?” a voice whispered to her from far away. She was hearing things as one does in the midst of a doze.

“Wake up before you drown,” the voice said again.

She opened her eyes. Canus knelt at the edge of the bath.

“As if you care. And what are you doing in the villa? Leave now before a servant sees you and tells my father.”

“No one saw me. You did not visit my cell tonight, so here I stand.” Removing his breechcloth, he eased into the tub and sat across from her.

She averted her eyes toward the ceiling as if his nude presence disgusted her. “Get out.”

“I am not leaving until I make it right between us. You must understand something. I have always known that you deserve better than I, which is why I said what I said today. If you can learn to love someone else, then you will not hate me after I die. You will not blame me for wasting your youth and beauty these years when you could have been married to a distinguished family and had lots of children. No matter how much I care for you, I can never bring you riches or respectability.”

“That is it? We are no more, only for lack of wealth and society’s permission, two things I have never required.” She splashed water at his face. “Then do not fret about me hating you when you die. I shall be glad for that day because I already hate you.”

“I fight in the games tomorrow. You may get your wish.”

“You say that so casually.” A lump of sorrow formed in her throat. She meant only to wound his emotions as he had done to her, not for him to die. “I could never mean you harm. You would know that if you ever loved me.”

“I do. With all my heart.” He moved next to her and placed her hand on his chest. “It beats for you. If the gods want us together, then it shall be.”

“You will win tomorrow. You must.”

“Regardless, you need to consider you father’s ultimatum. I will not always be here. Your heart has room for more than one love.”

“I told Macer I would contemplate his proposition. Is that your wish?”

“It may go against conventional beliefs for a woman to have two men, but I can rest easy knowing that you will be provided for in my absence.”

“What if I fall in love with him?”

He squinted at her, perchance out of jealousy or because he thought she was attempting another verbal swipe at his feelings. He must’ve realized she was genuinely asking herself the question because his brow relaxed. He shrugged his shoulders. “Your joy is my happiness.”

“I am still a bit upset with you.”

“I should not have insinuated you were a whore. It was ignorant of me. I was wrong and I am sorry. Forgive me?”

She leaned against him. “I know sex makes one weak before a fight, so just hold me for a little while.”