The Fire God

Chapter Thirteen

It was several more weeks before Master returned from his sojourn. I wanted to speak to him immediately, but Master's son took first priority. He'd have to tell Master about the game and the three slaves that had been punished. Then Mistress had him next. She had him all evening. Aeliana sighed, brought port, was quickly ejected from the marital room and sat on the stool next to me. I would have much whining to deal with in the morning.

I went to Mistress's chamber as soon as I awoke. She rambled about Master's sloppy thrusting, his grumbles of love and how he huffed over her.

"He's like a goat," she muttered.

As expected, she kept me in her room all morning. She complained, howled, told me she didn't like the plait and ordered me to do it again.

It was near lunch time when I was permitted to go to the culcina. The culcina slaves fell into a hush when I entered.

"Is Master available?" I said. I muttered something about the accounts, that I should talk to him.

Quintina came forward, put her hand on my arm. "Master took Lavinia. You know Vitalis, Master's friend. He's hoping he can sell her to him."

I was numb and my nostrils were burning. I wouldn't cry in front of the others. I'd been beaten in front of them and hadn't shed a tear. I wouldn't cry over this.

Master returned in the evening, in time for dinner. He talked to me briefly. About the accounts, asked me if the fields were suffering from the loss of the three slaves. Then he found Aeliana.

Mistress appeared at the entrance of the insulae. All fell silent, strictly because she shouldn't have been there. It was dark and dirty, no place for a Roman citizen's wife. But it was her prerogative to be there. I couldn't stop her. She came to my side, put a hand on my shoulder.

"I want a tibia lesson."

My eyes swept over the others in the insulae, but I said, "It's awfully late for a lesson, Mistress. Are you sure that you wouldn't prefer to wait until tomorrow?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

I came off my bed, crossed the room. "As you wish, Mistress," I muttered. "Perhaps I could take up cor—cornu, teach you that."

When we were outside, crossing the garden to the villa, Mistress said, "I'm sorry if you loved that squished up, funny looking little thing."

"Mistress, don't be mean. Lavinia had pretty eyes. She had a kind soul."

She huffed, folded her arms. She blew a wisp of hair out of her face.

"I didn't love her, Mistress," I said, continuing my stride. "I liked her a lot." I shrugged. Sadness weighed on me, made breathing difficult. "It's normal to want to get married, have children."

"It's normal if you've never done it before." She was leading me in through the posticum, the servants entrance. "Trust me, Mricul, getting married and having a baby are the two stupidest things I've ever done."

"I'm sorry you don't like Master," I said, taking up the tibia. We were in Mistress's tablinum. I positioned my hands over a few of the holes, blew a note. Flat. Mistress rubbed her hand over the length of the instrument, tightened her grip, pumped her hand over the shaft. I handed it over to her.

She sat it aside and I pursed my lips. Exactly as I thought. She could have waited till morning to contrive an excuse for the apology, given me one night to mourn Lavinia properly.

"I hate that you're pouting," she said, pressing the full length of her body against me. "I thought it was what was best. She had been destroyed by the game, raped by those boys. To have to continue on, living in the same room, looking at the spot where it happened, where she'd been forced to the ground, held down, had her virginity ripped from her. It was unfair."