The Chariots Slave (8 page)

The way he lovingly stroked her side and spoke of her
confused Sellah. At first she had mistaken his excitement and
love for this sport and his horse as a glimpse of his humanity.
Now, she saw his genuine care for the horse as more than she
had witnessed him give his own servants. Was she wrong?
Was what she thought compassion really another way of him
celebrating himself?

“Surely you don’t mean to tell me that without this horse
you could not win a race.” Sellah had hoped to stir a reaction
in him to prove her theory that no goodness could reside in
his heart.

He studied her, noticing a change. What was once full of
wonder now reared its cynical head. “I suppose it is true.
Without Diana I am but a man standing in a cart with
wheels.” He hoped this would soften her demeanor.

But to his dismay his humor did not work. Instead, she
arched her eyebrows and the corner of her mouth turned up
just a hint. It was enough to convey that she did not find his
wit humorous. In fact, she seemed politely annoyed by him.

He sighed before offering her an honest response. “The
first rule in charioteering is to choose a lead horse. One you
trust with your life. She leads the other horses and I lead her.
I am a champion because I trust Diana’s instincts. I do not
direct with a whip as most do. I let her drive for the win and
direct the cart. It frees up my hands for other things.”

The honesty of his reply encouraged Sellah’s curiosity.
“You mean to say you do not lash or steer your cart?” Her
eyes widened in wonder.

“Yes, it is a foolish tactic if you do not trust your lead
horse. But Diana has saved my life more times than I can
count. See here,” he said as he picked up Diana’s front leg
and pointed to a long jutting scar. “This is where she took the
jaws of a tiger. As he attacked me she reared upon him to free
me from his grip.”

“A tiger? What does a tiger have to do with a chariot
race?” Sellah wrinkled her brow in confusion as she began
noticing scar after scar on Diana’s legs and underside.

“You have never seen a chariot race, have you?” He
watched her as she rand her hands over a scar on Diana’s
belly. Sellah shook her head, confirming his suspicions.

“That scar is from an arrow Diana took. I thought I had
lost her that day.” The sadness of his memories graced his
dark eyes. Sellah watched in wonder as he mentally replayed
the event. Why would he risk so much for a title, just to be
the Victor of Rome?

“Races are not always just chariots and horses. They are
often bloody battles of skill, speed, and wit. You must
overcome obstacles that are designed to spook the bravest of
horses and the bravest of men.” He placed his forehead to
Diana’s and stroked her neck as he continued explaining what
it was they did.

“It is too dangerous for a man with responsibilities to
compete. That is why I must step down. I must find another
driver to represent my family’s trigarium and to lead Diana.”
He turned to her and appeared pleased to find her
inquisitively watching him interact with his horse.



“You do not wish to step down?” Sellah whispered, as she
realized the sacrifice Thaddius was making in order to follow
in his father’s path.
Once again he studied her face, it was as though he was
trying to gauge if she held any care for him or if her words
were merely ones of understanding.
“Every ounce of every dream I have ever had directs me to
this path. Yet my responsibilities bind me to another.” He
stared off in longing as he watched a chariot make its way
around the track.
“I don’t understand. Can you not do as you wish? You are
Dominus.”
“Yes, I am Dominus, and that means if I do not attend to
my father’s estate, men like Barachius can swindle it away.
The Gracchus family line had its foundation in Rome, a name
like mine can not be bought. Title is a game of politics and
breeding. If I do not uphold my inherited title, another can
forcefully remove it if they are in the counsel of higher
ranking men. So you see Sellah, we are not so different. Both
of us are destined to serve something we loathe!”
Her eyes flashed with fear; she realized she had
overstepped. It was hard to find balance with Thaddius.
Sometimes he treated her with kindness and other times as
though she were not worthy to be in his presence.
“Come, let me force my wishes upon you once more. Let
us experience all that the biga has to offer.”
He pulled her after him as he stomped off down the hill
toward the cart, forgetting the state of Sellah’s health. She
tried hard to maintain footing but had no strength and soon
her legs gave out and she toppled to the ground.

Accalia witnessed the whole event and came running to
her side. Forgetting to address her Dominus, she pushed him
aside and focused solely on Sellah.

“Accalia, I am well, leave me.” Sellah’s eyes darted
toward Thaddius as she tried to signal Accalia to be wary.
When Accalia finally understood what Sellah was
implying, she fell to her knees in front of Thaddius. “Forgive
me Dominus, I was driven with the need to care for my
friend. I did not mean to show disrespect. This is all so new
to me, I am learning….”

Thaddius placed his hands on her cheeks, tilting her face
up to his and silencing Accalia’s panicked apology.
“Your heart is in the correct place, although your head is
far from it. You must be cautious as to how you act. Now, I
will overlook your behavior. But in the presence of certain
company, I will not grant such mercy.” Although his words
were kind, his tone and demeanor conveyed the aggravation
he felt. Accalia shuddered under his touch and was eager to
be released.
He watched as Sellah, who was still on the ground, went
from being visibly consumed with her pain to being
consumed with fear for her friend. He hated that his actions
made her fear him so. All he was trying to do was offer
kindness, to overlook Accalia’s inappropriate behavior. Even
so, he still frightened her.
“Accalia, take Sellah to Vettius at once. Tell him to take
her to the salt baths until she is well.” He then turned his back
to them.

Sellah closely observed her Dominus. His back was as
straight as a spear pole, and he held his fists clenched tightly
at his sides. Had he just offered to care for her in an unselfish
manner? Could he really value her life? But how could she
accept such a kind gesture when Simeon, the man who had
saved her, remained wounded and in pain?

“And what of Simeon, would such baths not help him
too?” Sellah called out, braving Thaddius’s wrath in order to
help the man who saved her.

He knew she was trying to be brave and his arms ached to
help her. But his head rationalized it was inappropriate for
him to do such things. So instead, he kept his back to her and
hoped they would leave. And that any ounce of jealousy he
had felt, when Sellah petitioned for Simeon, would erase in
their absence.

As Accalia struggled to support Sellah’s weight and drag
her away from Dominus, Sellah’s heart sank. Could she
really leave without pressing the matter of Simeon further?



She knew it would be easy to do so, but her heart would not
let her.

Accalia’s grip.
“No Sellah, don’t do this,” Accalia pleaded as Sellah
hobbled toward Thaddius.

Turning toward the women, Thaddius watched as Sellah
stumbled toward him. He noted that a small part of the fire he
had once seen in her burned once more with purpose in her
eyes. He stifled the feelings that momentarily swelled. She
was beautiful when she was stubborn.

“Dominus, please. Consider Simeon. You were once such
dear friends. Do not let me come between that. He needs
further care, his lashings are very deep.” She struggled to get
to her knees in front of him. The pain from her bruised ribs
and inflamed joints were evident in her eyes with her every
move.

He wanted to scream, to beg her not to do such things. Not
to kneel before him, not to cause herself such pain. But all he
could do was stand and listen as she petitioned for Simeon.

Thaddius glanced over to Accalia. Tears streamed down
her face, and her hands covered her mouth so that she would
not cry out. Was he really such a monster that they feared
him so?

“If there is only one space in the baths, Dominus, then I
beg you to send Simeon in my place.”
Sellah took a chance to look up into Thaddius’s eyes as
she spoke. He turned his head so she could not see the pain,



anger, and sadness that flashed before her. He cleared his
throat and tried to find words. A minute passed in an
awkward silence; finally a sound came forth.

“Leave me. Go now and never dare petition me for another
again!”
As her shoulders crumpled in defeat, Thaddius regretted
the words he had spoken. He wanted to say, take Simeon. He
had. But when Thaddius opened his mouth to speak, it was
not he who controlled the words. No, it was Dominus who
had decided.

spread wide as he entered the bathhouse.
“Vettius? Have I sent for you? I do not recall. We must
have a mix up as I have no one requiring your services.” Orla
wrinkled her brow in puzzlement.
“Do not worry yourself. Thaddius sent me. One of our
girls needs your expert care.” He signaled the guards to bring
Sellah forward.
Orla watched as the unusually colored girl was escorted
into the room. Her eyes widened and she turned to Vettius as
if to ask what had happened. Diverting his eyes from her
inquisitive face was all the answer she needed. Something
had been afoul here.
“Oh my dear, it is good to see you again. But I wish it was
not under such circumstances.” Orla rushed to Sellah’s side.



“It is good to see you too, Orla,” Sellah returned as she
forced a smile through her pain. The ride into the city had
been a painful one. Every time the cart hit a rock she would
lose balance and smash into its side, punishing her already
bruised body.
“She will be requiring the salt baths and perhaps some of
the extras you give Thaddius when he attends,” Vettius
instructed.
“Thaddius comes here?” Sellah was unable to control her
curiosity.
“Yes, after almost every race. He pushes himself too hard
and someone must nurse him back to health.” Orla spoke this
in a maternal manner.
“Orla is a miracle worker. There is no reason that boy
should be alive. But, enough of this morbid talk, I must be on
my way.” Vettius marched over to the women. First, he
wrapped his hands around Orla’s plump cheeks and planted a
kiss to her forehead. Then he did the same to Sellah, yet with
a gentler touch.
“You’re leaving?” Sellah bit down on her lip and tried to
calm her nerves. She did not like the thought of being away
from Vettius. He made her feel safe, and, right now, that was
what she wanted more than anything.
The old tonsor smiled at her and looked knowingly into
her eyes. “Do not worry precious jewel. You will be in good,
kind hands with Orla. I will return every day to check on your
recovery.”
His words were reassuring, and Sellah felt herself coming
to ease. As Vettius turned to leave, Sellah noted how his
sandals made a slapping sound on the stone ground. It echoed
around her in steady rhythm to her every breath.

He would be missed, but being away from the domus and
being cared for by Orla wouldn’t be that bad. In fact, she
might actually enjoy herself.

“Orla, do not hold back any care. Cost is not a priority, her
health is. Just send your bill to the Dominus.” Vettius smiled
and then walked out the door and into the busy street.