The Chariots Slave (6 page)

He cursed as the last of the drink spilled out around him,
staining the white coverings. With great effort he turned his
head and focused his eyes toward Sellah. Much to his relief
his weight crashing upon her broken form had not stirred her.
He remained as he was. The wine clouded his mind, and he
soon fell fast asleep.

Hours passed before the warmth of the sun streaming
through the window touched Sellah’s cheeks pulling her back
to consciousness. For the first time in her life she lay on
something other than the hard floor. Its softness was



engulfing. Yet, the more alert Sellah became, the less she
could enjoy her comfortable bed.

Searing pain pulsed in her joints almost to the point of
tears. Hoping that a simple adjustment in her position would
help dull the pain she tried to roll over.

Panic clutched at her resolve when she could not move her
legs. Temporarily blinded by the morning sun, she rubbed her
eyes as she took in her surroundings.

Confusion consumed her as she looked over at the man
sprawled face down on the bed. He was fast asleep with wine
stains on his face and on the coverings around him.

When she finally recognized him, the events of the night
before made their way to the forefront of her mind,
transforming her confusion into fear.

How did she end up in bed with her Dominus?
He wouldn’t have, would he?
Surely she would remember being forced into the arms of

a man. But try as she might, her memories of the night before
ended with the fist of Acestes. Eager to be free from the
situation and free her legs, she struggled but to no avail. His
weight was pinning her to the bed.

“What wretched merchant stirs me this early?” he groaned
in a mounting anger while tossing his free arm in the air.
He kept his eyes tightly shut, no doubt afraid that the light
of the morning sun would bring him stabbing pains in his
current state. Clutching the coverings close to her body, she
dared not speak, afraid to endure his wrath again.
“Vettius!” he called in a voice hissing with anger. When
he received no response, he turned his head toward the door
and shouted once more, “Vettius!”
Sellah was relieved that she no longer had to look upon his



face, but she would be even more comforted if she could be
free from his bedchambers.

As she tried to think of a way out of her predicament, an
elderly man entered the room. Upon seeing Sellah, the man
offered a familiar smile. She gasped as she recognized the old
tonsor from the bathhouse standing before her.

“The rumors are true, it
is
you!” Vettius beamed as he
looked upon Sellah with much affection.
“Of course it’s me! Apollo’s ass, you are slow this
morning, Vettius.” Thaddius mistook his old man’s words as
directed to him. “And, why does a whore remain to wake me.
You know my orders; they are to be removed before I awake.
I do not want to be tainted from my memories of our evening
with forced pleasantries. The only pleasantries they offer me
I have already tasted,” he moaned as he tried to roll over onto
his back but was hindered by the empty wine vessel.
If it were not for her fear of further punishment, Sellah
would have given him a strongly worded retort. How dare he
disregard a women’s gift so.
What kind of monster was lying at her feet?
Vettius must have noticed the look on Sellah’s face and
how her knuckles blanched from her firm grip on the
coverings, as he chuckled to himself.
“This is no jest, Vettius. Remove this whore!” Thaddius
continued to struggle to free the wine vessel.
With tongue clicking and head shaking disapproval,
Vettius yanked free the vessel wedged behind Thaddius,
causing him to fall on his back.
“The wine has tainted your eyes, Thaddius. She is no
whore; she is a rare jewel.” He offered Sellah one last smile
before leaving her to the mercy of the other.

“She is but a whore. Did she not wait at the gate to taste
my offerings? I instructed Acestes to choose the finest....”
And then it dawned on him. He had, in fact, told Acestes to
place his new purchase in his bed chambers, not one of the
women at the gate.

Forgetting his splitting headache and disheveled
appearance, Thaddius turned his attention to the unusually
colored girl in his bed.

His heart sank when he saw that the fire that once burned
strong in her eyes was absent. He knew he was partially to
blame for the loss. “My apologies,” he muttered, hoping she
would hear the depth of what he implied.

“You did not... We did not....”
“Calm yourself. I did not force myself upon you. I have no
need for that,” he coolly retorted, his tone surprising even
him.
“Right, with all the whores awaiting your bed at the gate,”
she replied.
He couldn’t help smiling as she regained her inner
courage. But when her words sank in he was taken aback. For
some reason he did not like her picturing him as did the
others. Her view of him caused anger to burn in his chest. He
twisted off of her legs and pushed his body dangerously close
to hers.
“That’s right, and don’t worry your pretty little head. I
won’t let you sample my pleasures until you beg as they do.”

Sellah could smell the stale wine on his breath and feel the
warmth of his body. He was just like her father. She had once
thought he was different, and that the offering in his gaze
held more than most other men. But now she knew she was
wrong. Thaddius was as much of a monster as they come.

“Your pleasures are not to my taste. So that will not be a
concern.” Her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace; she was
scared at the closeness of their proximity. And even more so
by the way Thaddius studied her with his eyes.

“Not to your taste? I can honestly say that is the first time I
have heard that.” He pinned down her arms and brought his
lips dangerously close to hers.

His warm, sticky hand covered her mouth, cutting short
her insult. “Now, now, do not say words you will later come
to regret.”

She tried to tell him she would never regret it, to yell it at
him. But his strong hand only muffled her words.
“Now, I am going to get cleaned and dressed and check on
Simeon. You will ready yourself and come with me,” he
demanded.
She shook her head in disagreement. “I am Dominus, and I
was not asking, I was ordering. So see my will done, and no
further harm will come to you,” he advised.
Memories of Acestes’ fists raining down reminded her of
what Dominus implied. She did not wish another beating, nor
did she think she could survive another. She nodded her head
in agreement, and Thaddius released his grip on her arm.
“Vettius!” he called once more.

This time the old tonsor came quickly to his Dominus’s
call. Upon seeing the position of Thaddius on top of Sellah,
he offered her a brief look of worry before attending to his
master.

“Help me up, Vettius. Then see that honey wine is
delivered to my bathing room. And for god sakes see that this
one is cleaned up,” he said as he offhandedly motioned
toward her.

“What?” Thaddius asked, caught off guard by her random
contribution.
“My name is Sellah Katarius, not whore, or this one.”

As Vettius helped him off the bed, Thaddius played her
name over and over again on his tongue. It was a royal
sounding name, one he felt suited her.

Despite his desire to not look a complete fool, the wine he
had consumed still seemed to affect his abilities. He stole one
last look at Sellah before puffing his chest and teetering
toward his bathing room.

“My dear jewel, I hoped we would meet again. Yet I
imagined it under better circumstances.” Vettius walked over
to the bed and sat next to her.

“I am glad to know your name, Vettius. Now I can stop
referring to you as tonsor.” She smiled, took his hand, and
squeezed it.

His fingers slipped away and went toward Sellah’s
shoulder. Finding the familiar amulet, he stroked its smooth
edges. “I see you have kept your gift!”

“Of course. It is most treasured!” She studied his gentle
face. “Are you also a servant of this domus?”
“I was once, but now I stay by my own hand,” he replied.
Her eyes skirted up to the metal collar secured around his
neck. He watched her look over it with confusion, and then
he watched as her hands drifted up to touch the cold metal of
the one bound permanently to her own neck.
He smiled and unfastened the clamp at the back of his
collar, pulling the metal band away from his neck. “Mine has
been cut open, and I can remove it anytime I like.” He held
his collar out for her to see.
It was the sign of a slave who had been granted freedom
yet chose to stay with his master.
“You could be free. Why do you stay and serve him?”
“My son, Simeon, remains servant to this domus. I cannot
have true freedom if my child is captive. So I remain,
contracted into service by my love for my son.”
“How is Simeon?” Sellah diverted her eyes and fumbled
with her bed coverings as she asked.
“I am afraid he does not fare well.” Vettius hung his head,
the sadness in his eyes causing Sellah to tear up.
“May I go see him? I wish to thank him for saving my
life.”
“Yes, that is agreeable. And in fact, he has asked after
you,” Vettius replied with a cunning smile. A smile that held
information Sellah did not understand.



“He asks after me?” The intimacy of Simeon’s gesture
brought a heated blush to her cheeks. Hoping that Vettius
would not notice, she quickly covered them with her hands.
“Yes, as does Accalia,” Vettius answered.
The events of this morning had forced her thoughts away
from her friend. She now wondered how Accalia had fared in
a new place. Sellah hoped she had not crossed paths with
Acestes. If he had laid one hand on her, Sellah would make
him regret it.
“Is Accalia well?” she asked as she fought to restrain her
worst fears.
“Yes, thankfully. She attends to the horses. Shall we see
her as well?”
“Could we, Vettius?” Saying the old tonsor’s name
seemed odd to Sellah. She was so used to calling him the old
tonsor that it felt as though Vettius was an unsuitable name.
“But of course. First, let us get our jewel all shiny and new
once more. Then we can be on our way to visit our loved
ones.”
He helped her sit up and was patient with her as she
struggled to slide her legs over the side of the bed. Her body
protested with jabs of pain, not wanting to move from its
cloud-like resting place.
But Sellah was driven to push on; she had to see Accalia
and Simeon. So she put on her brave face and made sure no
sign of her true discomfort was evident.

A beautiful creature with a mane of dark curls pushed
open the stable doors. Sellah’s heart swelled with relief;
Accalia seemed unharmed. She walked with confidence and
determination, and Sellah wondered how in just one day
Accalia could seem so settled.

The sounds of their feet on the stone ground attracted
Accalia’s attention. She turned to them and on seeing Sellah
threw her bucket to the floor and ran toward her.

“Sellah! Oh thank the gods you’re all right!” Accalia’s
hands fluttered as she looked over her friend.
“A few bruises, but other than that I fare very well.” Sellah
smiled in relief at seeing her friend.
“I see you have been reacquainted with Vettius,” Accalia
beamed as she exchanged a look with the tonsor. “Come let
us go to Simeon. I was just on my way to fetch him fresh
water.” Accalia wedged herself in support under Sellah’s
arm.

The trio made their way through the stables to the
medicos’ tent where Simeon was recovering. As they pushed
back the heavy fabric door to enter, Sellah was met with a
damp smell of old blood.