Title: Roman Enslavement

Author: Scribe

Fandam: Original

No pairing

All characters are mine. I have made no profit. Why? Do you know someone who'll pay me for it?

Archive: Sure

Rating: NC-17

When Mozelle was locked in the museum and decided to nap on the ancient altar, she figured the worst that would happen would be a stiff back and, perhaps, an irritated curator. She had no idea that she was affronting the Goddess of Chaos.

Dischordia is not the most tolerant and forgiving of persons. Determined to make the hapless mortal's life miserable, if not downright dangerous, she whisks Mozelle to ancient Rome.

Now a new millineum woman is trying to deal with a B.C. environment, and ancient Rome is not a friendly place for 'barbarians'.

Note: This story takes place (mostly) in an ancient Rome of my own device. The gods and goddesses may not cleave perfectly to classic mythology, and I'm pretty sure there will be anachronisms, as it is a time travel piece after all. The Romans in this speak, of course, Latin. //"Speech in Latin will look like this."// *Thoughts will look like this.*, and no, I won't differentiate between Latin and English thoughts--they're thoughts, 'kay?

Roman Enslavement

by Scribe

She'd been in the corner, squeezed between an exhibit case and the wall, trying to get a better look at an ancient bronze necklace when the lights had gone out. *Maybe I should have yelled, but I felt so silly. I thought I'd just walk on over and let myself out.* She'd been able to see where she was going. The main lights were out, but display lights shone over several cases and objects.

She rattled the door again. "Hello?" No answer. A more forceful jerk. "Hello?" Nothing. "Well, piss, what do I do now? Hello, dammit!" Absolutely nothing: not a footstep, not a murmur. Where had everyone gone all of a sudden?

She searched the room but there was no phone, no intercom, no way to contact the outside world. It looked like she was stuck for the night. Now what? There wasn't even a bench to sit on, and that tile was awful drafty. She found herself eyeing one of the displays, one that was only cordonned off by a velvet rope.

It was a huge marble slab, about four feetby six feet, over two and a half feet high. Actually, pretty perfect for a hard cot. *No, I shouldn't do that. It's an artifact, I don't think the museum people would approve. Then again, they shouldn't have locked me in, and I'm not going to hurt it.*

She sat gingerly on the stone slab, getting the feel of it. The surface was cool, smooth. This would do. She should be tired enough to at least doze. She stretched out, then turned on her side with a sigh. No, this probably wouldn't work.

She didn't see the figures that materialized behind her. One was a handsome, gentle faced youth. The other was a woman with red hair, and a sharp, foxy face. She gestured silently at the woman lying on the slab. The youth shrugged, and slowly passed his hands in the air over her body.

Mozelle yawned hugely, and her eyelids fluttered closed. In a moment she was breathing in the deep, slow rhythm of profound sleep. The woman nodded, //"Thank you, Somnus. I want to get a good look at her, and it's such a bore when they go all whiney and fawning."//

//"What makes you think she'd be like that, Dischordia?"// Somnus, God of Sleep, perched on the end of the slab, watching curiously as the Goddess of Strife and Dischord prowled around the sleeping woman, studying her intently.

//"I don't know. Maybe she wouldn't. She's pretty bold--going to sleep on my altar like this."//

//"Well, technically, she wasn't going to sleep..."//

She waved at him impatiently. //"Hush. She intended to. It's been almost three thousand years since someone was laid on my altar, and I'm curious."//

//"Are you sure this is yours?"// He peered at the carvings around the base. //"It looks like Vesta's."//

Dischordia hissed, //"It's mine! Some of her benighted followers got their hands on it and used it for her, but it's mine. Damn her. It's not like she didn't have enough altars of her own, she had to encourage her twaddling followers to take one of mine."// The sharp featured woman leaned closer to Mozelle. Mozelle stirred in her sleep, frowning, as if feeling someone near. One quick look from Dischordia and Somnus passed his hand over her again. The frown smoothed and she slept on. Dischordia touched her forehead, concentrating, then bent close and took a deep, penetrating sniff at the crook of the woman's neck.

She stepped back with an odd expression. It took Somnus a moment to recognize it as surprise. Gods weren't often surprised. //"What is it?"//

//"She's one of Vesta's."//

//"I didn't think anyone worshipped us these days."//

//"Not like that, dolt. She's a virgin. Vesta dotes on pristine little things like her."//

//"At her age?"// Somnus examined the woman more closely, curious. //"Has she dedicated herself to chastity? Maybe Vesta does still have worshippers. If she's a virgin, and she's sleeping on Vesta's alter..."//

//"It's my altar! Why should she have someone dedicated to her when I don't?"//

//"Are you joking? Have you seen anything of this time? You have millions of followers, they just don't perform the rituals or call you by your right name."//

//"I don't care. I'm not having this. I'll show this little mortal who's the stronger goddess."//

Somnus became alarmed. //"Dischordia, what are you going to do? Don't hurt her, she hasn't done anything. She doesn't even have any idea that this is your altar. I doubt she'd even know who you are. I doubt if she'd care."//

//"Well, I can fix that, can't I?"// She raised her hands.

//"Dischordia, don't!"// But it was too late. There was a muted crackle of cold blue fire, and the sleeping woman was gone. //"What have you done? You know Jupiter doesn't want us striking down mortals left and right."//

//"I didn't strike her down, idiot. She's perfectly fine. Physically, anyway. For now."//

//"What did you do?"//

//"I just sent her back."// Dischordia chuckled wickedly. //"That should mix things up a bit for her. And don't you dare bring her back, Somnus. Jupiter still doesn't know that it was you put him to sleep when Juno wanted to go galivanting. But that could change."//

Somnus remembered Jupiter's rage when rumors of his cuckolding reached him. Somnus had put him to sleep once before. Nothing had happened that time, and he'd still almost been hurled outside the universe. Only his nurse, Nyx, had saved him that time. If Jupiter was angered again... He wasn't sure if a god could die, and he didn't want to find out. So he'd say nothing. And the other gods and goddesses were so busy back in their high time, it was doubtful that the plight of one little mortal woman would interest them enough to intervein. Oh, well, perhaps she'd be alright. Things weren't going to be easy for her, landing in Rome without citizenship or protection.

*

She was cramped after lying on the stone all night, but she wasn't cold. That was a little bit of a surprise. The air conditioning had been pretty ferocious when she'd dozed off last night, now it was warm, and humid. A breeze moved across her face. Now that was odd. If the central air was up high enough for her to feel a breeze, shouldn't it be cold?

Then someone poked her in the side, and she groaned. "Okay, I'm up. Don't have a hissy, I can explain." She opened her eyes to find two men staring down at her. One of them prodded her again, and said something she couldn't understand. Must be a foreign tour group going through early.

Cletus stared curiously at the woman who'd been sleeping on Dischordia's altar when he arrived with Denus, his neighbor. They had intended to make a small sacrifice to the goddess to implore her help in a gambling dispute with the owner of a tavern they frequented. It would be easier, of course, if they just paid their debts, but a molting pigeon would cost less. They'd arrived before the sellers of sacrificial items, and had wandered into the temple to look around. And they'd found this.

\\"What did she say?"\\ asked Denus.

\\"How should I know? I've never hear that language before. You, woman, where are you from?"\\ She looked at him blankly. He sighed in irritation. \\"You're country. What part of the Empire are you from?"\\

"I don't understand what you're saying," She looked at them, and frowned. "And I don't understand why you're dressed the way you are. What is this, costume days?" The two men were wearing tunics, or togas. or something, and sandals Also, they both had thick beards, and didn't smell too awfully nice. The costumes she could understand, but surely the museum would require better hygiene?

She looked up, blinking. "Wait a minute." She glanced down. The floor was stone instead of tile, and the ceiling didn't seem to be the right height, much too high. And the walls... She slid down off the stone, staring around. "What... the walls?"

There weren't really any walls. The sides of whatever structure she was in consisted of a series of columns. She could see out into streets. And the streets...

The men looked at each other. \\"She can't be a citizen,"\\ said Cletus. \\"Not with that language. Do you know what that means?"\\

\\"She must not have any place to stay if she's sleeping in an open temple. And she may be a little mad to sleep on Dischordia's altar."\\ Denus shuddered. \\"I wouldn't want to be on her bad side."\\

\\"Dolt! It means that she's plunder!"\\

\\"Plunder?"\\ Denus looked at the woman more closely. True enough, most of the non-citizen's in Rome were slaves plundered from the far reaches of the empire. Those who didn't have obvious business, that was, and he'd never seen anyone who looked less like they had a clear purpose. The woman looked positively bewildered. \\"Are you sure about that?"\\

\\"Well, no. But the beauty is, she can't speak our language. How's she going to complain?"\\

The woman had begun moving hesitantly about the temple. She was frowning at the statue of Dischordia, as if she was trying to recognize a distant acquaintance. "What happened? Is some one playing a prank on me? How did y'all move me without my waking up? Why am I talking to you?"

\\"Cletus, why? What would we do with her?"\\ Cletus smirked, raising his eyebrows. Denus looked at the woman again, noting the plump curves and smooth skin. \\"Well, yes, there's that."\\

\\"It'd be a nice change from shagging your furry ass. But I have another idea that will get us out of our mess. We sell her. That should bring us enough to pay off Stintilla and have some left over."\\

\\"Well, if we're going to do that, hadn't we better catch her?"\\

Mozelle had made her way to the side of the building and was edging toward the street, wide eyed. "It was late January when I came in here, closest we were going to get to snow, and it's warm out here."

\\"Don't scare her,"\\ Cletus warned. \\"It'll be easier if we can get her to a broker without her realizing what's happening. If she starts screaming, they may find someone who knows her language."\\

Cletus approached the woman, and bobbed, smiling. \\"Hello, little slave. You seem lost. Why don't you come with us? We'll find a place for you where they'll show you exactly where you belong in the scheme of things."\\

She regarded him, a little warily. "What? You're making gestures like... You want me to come with you? Can you take me to someone who'll understand me? I've got to get back home."

\\"That's right, woman."\\ Denus touched her arm, to guide her out to the street. She jerked back from him, staring. \\"Cletus, she might not do well as a slave. She's skittish."\\

\\"She'll learn. Just kind of herd her."\\ They shooed her along.

\\"Where are we taking her?"\\

\\"Might as well try a good one. Let's start with Tinactus. We can work our way down the street if he doesn't want her."\\

Part Two

They came to the slave broker's house of business, urging the woman up into the building. \\"Okay, Denus, you watch her, while I find Tinactus."\\ Denus urged the woman over to a bench and managed to get her to sit. He sat beside her on the bench.

She was looking around, wide eyed. "Is this the American embassy? Why didn't I see any cars out there? I can understand banning cars in historic areas... and that did look pretty historic out there, but where were all the bicycles?"

\\"I can't understand what you say, but you have a sweet voice. I'm sorry I have to sell you."\\

"I know you're not getting this, but either I'm crazy, or I'm back a couple of thousand years, unless I'm dreaming. If I'm dreaming, this is a weird one. Nothing's really happening."

\\"Such a shame. I like a woman with some flesh on her."\\ He put his hand on her thigh and squeezed.

Her eyes narrowed. "That feels real, and even if it isn't I'm about to go to lucid dreaming mode, 'cause you are too damn ratty to get groped by." She knocked his hand away.

\\"Hm. You are skittish. Well, you'd better get over that right quick. Not too many masters will put up with it."\\ He reached for her thigh again.

"Stop it!" She glared, scooting away. "Gah, you Italian guys really try to live up to your reputation. You are Italian, right? That's... that's Latin, and this... Whoo, buddy, it looks like Rome. So you must be Italian, and I'm... very lost."

Cletus came back, bowing and scraping beside a stocky man in a toga of fine linen. His hair was iron grey, but he looked vigorous. Mozelle looked at him curiously. At least this one seemed to be clean. That had to be an improvement, right?

\\"I can't say how we appreciate you taking some of your valuable time, Tinactus."\\ Cletus fawned.

\\"I wouldn't bother except you said she's a bit of an exotic. This the wench?"\\

\\"Yes, yes. Seems to have just dropped down from the heavens."\\

He sneered. \\"Very poetic, Cletus. I assume you have papers?"\\

Cletus shuffled his feet. \\"That's a bit of a problem. She's freshly caught."\\

\\"And you're sure she's a slave?"\\ Tinactus took one of the woman's hands and examined it. At first Mozelle had thought he was going to shake hands, but he turned her hand over in his, studying it. He worked the knuckles, rubbing the skin on the back. \\"The hand is soft. What kind of work has she done? Nice plump figure. She must have been some old master's spoiled darling. What brought you on the market, pretty?"\\ He turned her hand over, and stroked her palm. \\"Could do nice things with these hands."\\

She jerked her arm away, scooting back on the bench. "What is it with you guys? Quit it."

Tinactus's eyes sparkled. \\"Well. Someone doesn't know their place. That makes it interesting. In most cases, it would be a liability, but sometimes it's a selling point. I have a select clientel that likes that."\\

He clapped his hands and two burly slaves entered from the back. The woman eyed them nervously. \\"She's not stupid, I think. She's getting the feel that she's in trouble. I'll give you..."\\ He cocked his head. \\"Twenty dinars."\\

Denus gave a glad grin. \\"Cletus, that will leave us..."\\

Cletus elbowed him sharply. \\"That isn't enough."\\

Tinactus shrugged. \\"I expected to have to bargain, but you have to realize--she's an unknown quantity. I don't know her strengths, aside from the obvious ones."\\ He touched her breast.

Tinactus expected a reaction, but not quite the one he got. Instead of flinching away, or even slapping at him, she balled up her hand into a fist, and punched him. It was good that she didn't have much strength, because she certainly had the will. As it was, it was a nasty shock. The second the blow had landed she bolted past him, headed for the outside door. His slaves reacted just as quickly, going after her. Before they came together, Tinactus called sharply \\"Don't mark her!"\\

The slaves didn't like that much. It was a lot more difficult to control a squirming, biting, clawing woman if they weren't allowed to strike her, but they managed. In a moment, they had her arms and were trying to avoid her thrashing feet. Tinactus approached slowly, rubbing the sore place on his cheek. \\"You say you found her on the alter of Dischord? Very appropriate."\\

The woman went still, tensed, glaring at him. "Don't you touch me, motherfucker."

He smiled. \\"I do believe I'm being sworn at. I don't know the language, but the tone is hard to mistake. You're a feisty thing, aren't you? Should be a lot of fun to break. All right. Forty dinars, no more without papers."\\

\\"Done."\\ Cletus accepted quickly. He was eager to get the money and leave. Actually, Tinactus could have simply thrown them out, and appropriated the woman. He'd have had a much easier time of explaining an undocumented slave than they would.

Tinactus removed a bag from his belt, and shook it open. He sorted through the contents, and removed a handful of coins, pouring them into Cletus's eagerly outstretched hand. \\"Done, and done. Well, my dear,"\\ He smiled at the woman. \\"you've just been sold for the first time."\\

She stared, mouth dropping open, looking between the two men. You could see the cogs turning in her mind, and understanding welled up in her eyes. The attention she'd been getting, the exchange of money..."No! No fucking way! I am not property! And I'm damn sure not your property."

\\"I do believe she understands. Get her collared and put her in the common room."\\

The woman had started struggling again, and one of the slaves holding her grunted, \\"Standard brand, Master?"\\

\\"Didn't I say I don't want her marked? Just what I've said, and don't go putting your hands or any other part of you sorry bodies, where they shouldn't be, or I'll remove the offending article."\\

*

She was tired, and so confused that she was almost disoriented. What was happening was so far outside her realm of experience that it was tempting to just write it off to a bizarre dream, sit back, and let it roll by. But she had the idea that, if she did so, she would descend into madness, and she didn't want to be crazy in this world--it was dangerous.

If she needed any proof that it was real the steel band around her neck was solid enough. The fitting had been humiliating. Her hands were held firmly behind her back, and she was bent over, her head trapped under one rather ripe smelling man's arm. He was only wearing a sort of skirt, and he'd been sweating.

A stretched metal hoop was fitted around her neck, and they used some sort of forcepts to force the ends together. There was a loop and a hasp, and what looked like a tiny padlock shut it. Then a small key was hung on a board that was festooned with other keys.

The moment she was released, she worked her fingers under the metal and jerked hard. There was no give. One of the men pulled her hands away, and she shoved at him. \\"Don't do that, slave. If you mark yourself, Tinactus is just as likely to take it out on us. She's ready for the front room."\\

The metal smith shook his head. \\"Can't understand Tinactus not wanting her branded. She's got lovely skin. It would take a brand so well."\\

Mozelle had given up trying to get away. She was just too tired, and there didn't seem to be much chance. Better to conserve her strength and look for an opportunity *Though what I think I'd do if I got loose...* She was miserable. Not only a foreign land, a foreign time. A totally different mindset than what she'd grown up with.

She was taken into a long, airy room. \\"He doesn't want her wandering loose. Too much of a chance she'll try to bolt when the door opens. He said to put her over with the reserves."\\

They went to a back portion of the room, moving through a thin crowd of people. They were all wearing collars, also, though some of them were leather instead of metal. Even the children. That made her wince. There weren't many children, but there were a few. All but the tiniest had their own collars, and seemed perfectly at home in them.

In one corner, there were several strong rings bolted to the wall. Other people *slaves* were chained to the rings by their collar. She started to dig her feet in stubbornly when they urged her toward that area. This must have angered them. When they chained her to the wall, one of them shortened the chain. He left only a couple of feet of slack, so that she couldn't sit down. She flipped him the bird in thanks. Apparently that was a recognizeable symbol, because the huge, dark skinned man chained next to her laughed. One of her captors raised a hand, as if to strike her, and she spat defiance at him, leaning out as far as the chain would allow, fingers hooked into claws. She had no illusions about safety, knew that they could easily beat her to death, but the rage and fear were too strong to be denied.

He didn't hit her. The other man stopped him. \\"Do you want the lash so badly? Wait. He may give her to us for awhile if he grows bored with her resistance."\\

They left. She slumped back against the wall, and surveyed her surroundings. *I guess they sold me to some sort of slaver. This isn't a private household. There are too many slaves just standing around. And that's some sort of block over there. Shit, I hope I don't get put up on that thing. I may end up making them kill me.*

Some of the other slaves were interested in the new arrival, some weren't. The one's who were drifted over and observed her for a little while, talking amongst themselves. Discussing her.

\\"Must be a difficult one--short chain. Still, not as short as it could have been."\\

\\"She's going to lose some skin soon. Didya see the salute she gave Gravis?"\\ Laughter. \\"She's either suicidal, or ignorant."\\

A thin child, no more than twelv, and completely unidentifiable as to gender, came close. Mozelle stared back, but for the life of her, she couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. Everyone wore tunics. If there was some subtle styling difference, she missed it. The thick, light hair was shaggy, falling into brown eyes. The face was elfin and pointed--curious, even friendly.

The child spoke. \\"Are you thirsty?"\\

"Kiddo, I don't know what you're saying, but you sound friendly."

\\"Thirsty?"\\ The child made a motion of tilting something to his lips, then made a gulping sound.

"Water? Sure, I could use some, if you're offering."

When he looked puzzled she nodded, and tried to repeat what he'd said. A brilliant smile flashed across the pale features, and they hurried away. In a moment, they came back balanceing a wooden cup of water, and handed it to her.

She drank gratefully, handing back the cup. "Thank you." Again the cocked head. "Oh, uh..." She clasped her hands, and bowed her head over them, then peeked up.

The child grinned again, then tapped it's chest. "Antonius." Then he tapped her arm questioningly.

She pointed. "Antonius?" So it was a boy. He nodded. She touched her own chest. "Mozelle."

"Moh-zahll."

"Well, now. Communication."

Antonius put his hands to his own thick, straight blonde hair, lifting a handful. Then he pointed at her head, and made small grasping motions with his fingers, looking into her eyes. She frowned. "You want to feel my hair? Why?"

Antonius shook his own limp locks. He pointed at several other people, repeating the gesture. Mozelle looked where he'd pointed, and gradually realized that she was the only curly headed person in the room. There were a few deeply black negros who had afros, but no one with curls. "Oh. Well, since you asked nicely." She bent her head as far as she could, and the boy stood on tiptoe. He patted both hands gently against the soft, springy curls, and giggled out loud.

The doors to the outside opened. Immediately the center of the room cleared as all the slaves lined up along the wall. The grey haired man entered the room with several others. There was a tall, thin man with small, darting eyes. Mozelle decided on the spot that he was a no-good individual. There was also a very dignified looking woman with greying hair. A tall, aesthetic looking man, also greying, hovered behind her. Mozelle saw that he was wearing a bronze collar, loose enough so that it wouldn't be uncomfortable. The way he attended to the woman it was obvious that he was her slave.

Tinactus waived his hand. \\"Browse if you wish Kadamil. Let me know if you find anything you like."\\

\\"Can I sample?"\\ His eyes were darting hungrily.

Tinactus sighed indulgently. \\"A little. I'd rather you didn't completely debauch one of them on the sales floor. It makes them restless. Now, Lady Dramilla, what are you looking for today? Still shopping for young Lupus's manhood present?"\\

\\"Though I don't know what good it will do. I really can't choose for him. I don't know if he wants a domestic, a bed slave, a body slave, or a combination--or what sex. I know the merchandise changes daily, but this is giving me a feel for the possibilities. In the mean time, our nursery maid passed away. I need an assistant for Tessa."\\

\\"I expect I'll be able to help you."\\

\\"It's just so hard to tell by looking at them. I want one who genuinely loves children. One that will care for little Patenic as her own."\\

There was a sudden commotion at the other end of the room. There was a howl of pain, followed by the rising babble of surprised and alarmed voices. \\"What in Pluto's name now?"\\ snapped Tinactus. He hurried to the area. Lady Dramilla, curious, followed.

There was a high pitched mewling sound, rich baritone laughter, the crying of a child, and a female voice raised in violent tones. The scene, to say the least, was interesting. Kadamil was on the floor, curled into a ball, hands clutched up under his toga. His face was pale, he'd vomitted. A huge man, a fighter by the scars on his naked torso, was near doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down his face.

\\"What have you done?"\\ roared Tinactus, snapping a short handled, many tailed lash against his massive chest. The laughter died, but not the mad grin.

\\"Twerent me, master. Twere that soft little dumpling chained there."\\

All eyes turned to the woman chained to the wall. She had a small boy, in a ripped tunic, crammed between her body and the wall, sheilding him. The child was holding on to her waist, brown eyes huge with fear, except when he looked up at his protectress. Then they shone softly.

The woman had jerked so hard on the chain that there was an angry red mark on her neck, and she was still kicking at the man huddled on the floor, trying to drive a foot against any vulnerable part of his anatomy she could find. "Damn chicken hawk! Baby raper! You keep your slimy paws off this kid, or I'll rip your dangles off!"

The woman's slave blinked. \\"Oh, my. She Iisangry."\\

\\"Rentic, do you understand her?"\\

\\"Yes, my lady. At least most of it. That's a rather odd form of my own native language. I taught it to Master Lupus, if you recall."\\

\\"Oh, yes. The Britanic."\\

\\"What's she saying?"\\asked the fighter curiously.

\\"She's calling him very bad names. She's threatening to end his lancing days, if you understand. She's questioned his relations with his recent maternal ancestors, and she suggested he perform a carnal act of self gratification I believe to be impossible."\\

\\"All this because Kadamil tried to help himself to a little of the boy?"\\ A nod. Tinactus sighed. \\"I told him that it got the slaves agitated."\\

\\"It's perfectly understandable, if the man tried to force himself on the woman's child right before her eyes,"\\ said Lady Dramilla.

\\"But this isn't her child,"\\ said Tinactus, bewildered. \\"I just acquired her an hour or two ago. The boy has no mother, he was raised in a slave creche, cared for by many. Well,"\\ He limbered up his whip. \\"I'll have to beat them both. The boy has to learn not to resist, and I can't have a slave hitting citizens, for whatever reason."\\ Tinactus pointed. \\"You, boy. Come take your punishment."\\

Trembling, the boy started to slip out. The woman put her arms back, caging him against the wall. Tinactus hesitated. \\"Rentic, can you communicate with her?"\\

\\"I think so, Master Tinactus."\\

\\"Tell her to push the boy out for his beating."\\

Rentic cleared his throat. "He say, give boy."

Her eyes widened. "You speak English! What's going on here? That guy tried to molest this kid."

Rentic shrugged. "Boy is slave. Put boy out."

"That's no reason. Why put him out?"

"Master Tinactus punish him. Punish you."

"No. All the kid did was get scared."

\\"Master Tinactus, she refuses. She says the boy did nothing wrong."\\

\\"Oh? This is interesting. It seems she has a nurturing instinct. All right. Tell her I won't beat the boy, if she takes both of their beatings."\\

Rentic frowned. One beating for an offense of this sort was bad enough. "He say you want take boy's place? Woman, say no. Boy is strong. Beatings hard."

"He won't hurt him? He won't grab him if I let him go?"

"Master Tinactus keep word, even to slave."

"All right." She moved the boy out from behind her.

"Antonius, go." She gave him a little push, then turned and faced the wall, face turned to rest her cheek against the wall, hands and forearms braced.

\\"Hm. I'm a little surprised, but not much. I don't think she's ever been beaten. I'd hoped to keep from doing this for awhile, tease things out. The fresh ones can be quite a lot of fun. Ah, well. Ten strokes for each. Let her know, would you, Rentic? And tell her that any time she's had enough..."\\ He cocked his head, thinking. \\"Tell her that any time she's had enough, she can say so, and I'll give the rest to the boy. Or, if she promises to come to my bed tonight like a proper humble slave, I'll do away with the beatings altogether."\\ Rentic translated. The woman's smooth face twisted, and she gritted something out. \\"That didn't sound like a favorable reply. What did she say, Rentic?"\\

\\"Master, the language..."\\ He hesitated.

\\ "I see."\\

\\"It could be roughly translated as 'get it over with.'"\\

\\"As you wish, my stubborn pretty, but I'll have you when I'm through, anyway. A good beating always warms my blood."\\

He drew back and let fly with a medium strength stroke, waiting for the noise she'd make. He was interested in whether or not she'd scream right away. The only response was an intake of breath, and a brief flexing of her fingers against the wall. \\"Ah. I believe she's going to try not to cry out. I wonder how long she'll last?"\\ He struck again, a little further down her back. He was a seasoned slaver, and never concentrated his lashings in one place. It was too easy to damage property when you did that. Besides, sometimes they got numb, and you didn't get the full effect.

The second blow still didn't draw more than a gasp. The boy she'd been protecting started to whimper, and one of the women pulled him away. She flinched at the third and fourth blows, the air whuffing out instead of being drawn in. On the fifth, Tinactus gave the lash a really sharp crack, and was rewarded with her first sound, a breathy moan. \\"That's better, pretty. We'll have you singing yet."\\

He put more weight behind the swings now, and each one brought a grunt. On the tenth she finally cried out sharply, fingers scrabbling at the smooth wall,and he laughed. Kadamil had managed to roll up into a sitting position now, still curved over his groin. But he said viciously. \\"That's it, Tinactus. Take the skin off the bitch."\\

\\"Quiet. It's your own fault, you know. I told you not to go too far, and you should have had enough sense to stay out of her reach. This is more for form's sake than anything else. Though,"\\ he chuckled. \\"I am enjoying it."\\

Dramilla watched the flogging, stony faced, her mind speeding. She'd never seen anything like the woman's actions. Such ferocious protectiveness, and toward a child that wasn't even her own, one she'd known only minutes. The question was, would she be willing to go all the way to protect him?

She spared Kadamil a glance of disgust. The man was the worst type of degenerate. After what the woman had done to him, he must still be in pain, but he was watching the punishment avidly, drinking in every jolt and moan the woman gave. His hands were up under his toga, moving quickly, and the cloth was tented, a small patch of dampness marking where his cockhead was leaking.

At the thirteenth strike, the woman's knees gave out, and she dropped. The chain only let her fall so far, then she was hanging, the collar so tight with her weight that it pressed into the tender flesh. She started wheezing, and the fighter reached over and gently lifted her to her feet before she could strangle. He took her hands and wrapped them around the chain, pressing them tight. \\"Hold on, little sister. Hold on tight."\\ He pressed her hands tight again, and she nodded in understanding. Her eyes were glazed with pain, and the deepest confusion he'd ever seen.

\\"Very sweet."\\ purred Tinactus. \\"Perhaps after I've had her, you can give me a show."\\ He delivered two more strikes in rapid succession. Again her knees buckled, but she managed to hold on to the chain, dangling till she could get her feet under her again.

Tinactus had forgotten about his customers, and the slaves watching in silence. His entire being was focused on the slave. Her face was pressed to the wall, turned to the side. He could see the silver streak of tears on her smooth cheek, but she wasn't sobbing out loud. Her breath was loud, and ragged. He'd seen what Kadamil was up to, now he felt his own erection. It rose stiff and insistant against his belly.

Five more strokes to go. He needed to hear her scream before he was through. Two more strokes, with all his strength behind them. Her cries rose, but still it wasn't quite what he needed. The wailing wasn't enough. Three more left. He wouldn't go beyond the promised punishment, though it was tempting. He'd just have to remove his customers quickly. Then he'd pull down those ridiculous trousers and take her from behind, against the wall. Yes. The eighteenth blow whistled, cracking. In her ass, yes, that would make her sing. No lubrication but his sweat and her own blood.

He put all his strength into the last two blows, wondering if she might faint. Many did, with such a beating, men and women. At last, he handed the flail to one of the slaves. He stepped close to the woman, and laid his hand against her back. She cringed at the touch, moaning deep in her throat. \\"Tender, precious? Perhaps that taught you to be a good girl, then. We'll see in a moment."\\ Still caressing her back firmly, relishing the whines of discomfort, he said \\"Kadamil, Lady Dramilla, I'll have to ask you to excuse me now. The discipline isn't quite finished."\\

Lady Dramilla nodded firmly. \\"Tinactus, I want to purchase this slave."\\

Part Three

Tinactus frowned. \\"Not this one, Lady. I could hardly sell you a slave who's still so green and untutored. Choose another."\\ He tangled his hand in the woman's dark, curly hair and dragged her head back, arching her neck. \\"I have plans for this one."\\

\\"How much did you pay for her?"\\

\\"Forty dinars. At first I thought I had allowed myself to be defrauded by the scum who brought her to me, but I'm seeing possibilities."\\

\\"What would you consider a fair profit?"\\

Tinactus looked at the matriarch shrewdly. There was a bit of pink weal visible at the collar of the slave's shirt. Tinactus licked his fingertip, and traced the puffed pink flesh. \\"You know why I want her, Lady. Why do you want her? Surely not as a charitable act?"\\

\\"I told you, I need a nursemaid for my son. Loyalty is hard to judge, but I just saw this woman take a severe beating to protect a child she didn't even know. I want that protective instinct for my children."\\

\\"Well, Lady, I'm not sure what I'd need."\\ His hand slid down over the woman's ass, roughly digging and squeezing. She wasn't too far gone to jerk a foot back at her molester, but he avoided it, chuckling. \\"She's a sweet thing, and has become quite dear to me."\\

\\"Eighty dinars--double your price."\\ Rentic stiffened. Such a price would bring a sturdy laborer.

\\"No, no, really, I've promised myself this treat, Lady Dramilla."\\ With one hand pushing the small of her back, fixing her to the wall, he forced the other hand between her legs from behind. The woman squirmed, obviously cursing him.

\\"One hundred dinars."\\

Tinactus paused in his rummaging. This was serious. One could buy a trained house slave for that price. Could he get more? \\"But Lady, I'm so looking forward to her, and it would be a shame and a waste if she wasn't used. Unless..."\\ He cocked a hot, amused eye at Rentic. \\"you're buying her as a companion for him?"\\

\\"One hundred twenty dinars, Tinactus."\\ The slaver was silent. That was the price of an experienced body servant, or a medium grade pleasure slave.

He was lustful, but the greed for money won out. \\"Ah, well."\\ He withdrew his hand, and patted the woman. \\"Who knows, pet? Perhaps you'll come on the block someday. I'd enjoy finishing this. All right, Lady Dramilla. The slave is your's for one hundred and twenty dinars, and I hope you may never regret your purchase."\\

\\"I will write you a draft for the amount, and you can settle with my husband at your leisure."\\

Tinactus bowed hin head. \\"So it shall be. Will you take her with you, or shall I deliver?"\\

Lady Dramilla regarded the slaver, then said dryly \\"She will accompany us home. Frankly, Tinactus, I do not trust you to deliver her to me in the same state in which I would leave her."\\

He smiled. \\"That I will not deny. I doubt I'd be able to resist a taste before I sent her over. I'll throw in the collar. Would you like to have her branded before you go? My metalsmith could put a lovely mark on her ass or thigh for you."\\

\\"The collar will be sufficient."\\

Rentic had parchment and writing implements in a pouch at his belt. He carefully wrote the contract Tinactus and Dramilla dictated, then Lady Dramilla signed it. Tinactus had the chain unhooked from the wall. \\"I'd advise keeping her on it till you get home. The beating has taken some of the vinegar out of her, but she's very new to her station. Who knows how foolish she'll be?"\\

Rentic took the chain, and the woman said, "I'm transferred, huh?"

Rentic replied. "Mistress bought you. Cost high. You be good, be worthy."

She shrugged. "Well, it pretty much has to be better than him." She made sliding, scooping motions with her foot in Tinactus's direction. It was amazing how clearly the girl could convey her meaning in sign. She looked like an animal trying to bury something that it found particularly foul.

The three left the slaver's house. As they walked through the streets Lady Dramilla noticed how the girl went to the end of her lead to be close to the fruit stands and roasted meat sellers. The nostrils of her small, tilted nose flared, and a hand pressed to her belly. \\"Is she hungry, Rentic?"\\

Rentic spoke to the girl. \\"She says, Mistress, that her belly thinks her throat has been cut."\\

They were by a baker's cart. \\"Buy her a loaf, Rentic."\\

Rentic retrieved a coin from his purse, handed it over, and chose the freshest loaf, still warm. He gave it to the woman, and they resumed walking. Lady Dramilla saw that the woman wasn't eating. She cradled the loaf carefully, bending to sniff now and again, but she didn't eat. \\"Rentic, why doesn't she eat? I thought she was hungry."\\

Rentic spoke to her. "Lady say why you not eat?"

She looked surprised. "Oh, this is for me?" She studied the loaf. "How much can I have without getting in trouble?"

He frowned. "All."

Mozelle made an odd little gesture. She pinched the air beside herself and swept the hand out. At the same time she bent her knees, crossing her right foot behind her left leg, toes pointed delicately, then stood back up again. Her expression was grave. Lady Dramilla observed the action with vague, puzzled amusement. \\"Rentic, what was that about?"\\

"Woman," He clumsily immitated her action, and the woman almost laughed. "What that?"

"That was a thank you curtsey."

\\"She says it was a thank you courtesy, Lady."\\

\\"Oh. I thought that Tinactus said she wasn't used to a slave state. That was quite... charming."\\

\\"I'm not entirely sure it wasn't mocking, Lady."\\

\\"Well, we'll give her the benefit of the doubt. Eat, child."\\ She made feeding motions, and the woman nodded.

Breaking off a piece of the bread, Mozelle sampled it. She was careful to keep her face neutral. She'd never liked whole wheat or whole grain bread, cheerfully preferring the insipid bleached flour white variety. Here, she realized, there wasn't going to be much choice. "Roman Meal or nothing," she murmured, working on a rather chewy mouthful. Ah, well, she'd always liked her bread with a bit of texture to it.

She ate as she followed the other two through the streets, observing everything carefully, trying to figure out if there was a snowball's chance in hell of getting away, and getting somewhere where she wouldn't be considered part of someone's assets. It didn't look very hopeful.

Part Four

They paused at a fruit vendor's stand and Lady Dramilla began selecting the plumpest peaches and figs he had. Mozelle continued eating, then paused as she noticed a couple of ragged urchins watching her. The eldest, a boy of about ten, reminded her a little of Antonius, but much thinner. He had his arm around a tiny girl of no more than six. Both of them were grubby, dressed in ragged bits of cast off clothing that had never fit them properly, barefooted. Their eyes were enormous as they followed each motion of her hand to her mouth.

She swallowed, then tugged on the chain lightly. When Rentic looked at her questioningly, she said, "Hey you, is all of this thing mine?"

He nodded, curiously. "Save, eat." He made a seesawing motion of his hand to indicate, 'whatever'.

Mozelle started to break the loaf in half, then took note of how gently the older boy was cradling his sister. She held out the entire loaf. Their already large eyes grew enormous. The little girl started to reach out, but her brother stopped her. He drew himself up with dignity. \\"What must we give?"\\

Mozelle looked at Rentic questioningly, obviously expecting him to translate. He didn't have to, of course, since she was just a slave, but he did. "What you want?"

"Oh." Mozelle smiled brightly, pointing to her own lips, and held out the bread again.

The little girl moved quickly, snatching the bread into her own arms, as if expecting it to be pulled away. Mozelle thought sadly that there just might be people who would amuse themselves by teasing the children with the promise of food, then drawing it away.

When Mozelle didn't grab for the bread, or make any comment or protest the little girl peeked at her over the loaf, and gave her a sweet, tentative smile. Mozelle's smile broadened into a grin. She clapped her hands, covered her eyes with them, then peeped over her fingers at the girl, making a sound of pleased surprise. The child laughed, a thin, silvery sound.

Rentic saw the older boy stiffen in something like astonishment. He looked down at his sister, expression melting into one of tenderness. Then her looked up at the woman, who was regarding him over the screen of her fingers, and he smiled also. It was strained, as if he were unused to it, but it was genuine.

Mozelle clapped her hands lightly, as if applauding. Then she pointed at them, made eating motions, and shooed. The message was clear. Go somewhere and eat. The two children melted away into the crowd.

Mozelle turned back to find herself the center of attention for Lady Dramilla, Rentic, and the fruit vendor. She crossed her arms defensively. "Well, you said it was mine."

Lady Dramilla shrugged. \\"I can see I'll never be able to give her charge in a kitchen--she'll give away all the stores to the first beggar that comes along."\\ But she didn't sound displeased. And she had Rentic hand over a small bundle of the best ripe figs, telling him to instruct her to eat those herself.

None of the mortals noticed the woman with the sharp features who watched them from atop one of the market's pillars, or the young man who lounged atop another pillar closeby. Dischordia scowled, pointing at the woman at the end of the chain. \\"What did I tell you? Vesta's."\\

\\"What makes you say that?"\\ Somnus was genuinely interested. Dischordia's 'logic' could be so convoluted sometime.

\\"She's hungry. I know that. She's given food, and what does she do? Does she sanely gobble it down before it can be taken away? Does she shrewdly horde it for other, leaner times? No! She gives it away to some puleing brats she's never seen before. Protecting the young, that has Vesta all over it, the boring twat."\\

\\"Dischordia, surely you're not still angry with her? The poor bitch only slept on your alter. You've turned her life completely upside down, thrown her into a situation that would have had even your most devoted followers reduced to shaking, sniveling bundles..."\\

\\"And she has the nerve to cope with it! It's an insult."\\

\\"Leave her alone, Dischordia."\\

The woman scowled. \\"For now. But she'd damn well better have a little chaos and confusion soon, or I will be very annoyed."\\

Somnus grimaced. Dischordia happy was bad enough, Dischordia annoyed was downright perilous.

Mozelle, oblivious to the fact that she was the center of attention for two deities, enjoyed the figs. She hadn't eaten any for years, but her grandmother had owned a sturdy fig tree in her backyard when Mozelle was a child. It always bore a heavy crop. She'd helped her grandmother collect them, to be turned into jams and preserves, but there were always plenty of the heavy, syrupy red fruits to be eaten out of hand as she picked. For a moment or two, they almost distracted her from the constant cold circle around her neck.

They moved away from the bustle of the center of town, out into broader, quieter streets. Finally they entered one with an impressive limestone face. The inside was cool and dim, with tiled floors. It would have echoed, but the walls were draped with pretty hangings and tapestries.

The woman spoke to the man, then swept off down a corridor. He led Mozelle back another way, into rooms that were smaller, and not so graciously decorated. *Ah. Roman version of 'below stairs'*

They finally stopped in a room with a large, open hearth. There were free standing wooden cabinets, and the ceiling was festooned with bunches of herbs, onions and potatos in string nets, strings of garlic, loops of sausages, and several unidentified items she later learned were cured and dried meats. A thickset, red face woman was at a large scrubbed table, vigorously scraping the skin of a freshly plucked chicken. The chicken still had head, claws, and innards. *Oh, gross. Nature food.*

She looked up as they came in, giving Mozelle a not unfriendly look, and Rentic a distinctly affectionate one. \\"What have you there, my love?"\\

\\"Mistress bought her to help with the young ones. I'm not entirely sure she was wise. This is a raw one, but she seems to love children well enough. Gave her food to two urchins in the market, and took a beating for a child she didn't even know."\\

\\"Is that so? Well, then, sounds as if she's worth having. Hello, girl."\\

\\"She only speaks my language, after a fashion."\\

\\"So? Well, another reason for me to love her, eh?"\\She smiled at the wary looking woman, and nodded.

The woman studied her, then lifted her hand and waved her fingers slowly. "Hello."

\\"I'd guess that's a greeting?"\\ "Huh-loa."

Rentic spoke up. "This Malanda. She top slave under me."

"Second in command. I dig."

Rentic frowned. "No dig. You help care for child."

"Oh, so I'm going to be a babysitter? Cool, I can deal with that. Why not? I considered being a nanny back... before. Yeah, I think I can do that."

\\"Malanda, dear, get some of your special balm, will you? That animal Tinactus beat her badly, and I'm sure she's in pain. A little of your ointment should work wonders."\\

\\"Certainly. I just mixed up a fresh batch yesterday. It's in the still room."\\ She bustled through one of two doors in the back of the room.

Rentic gestured at her. "Take off."

Her expression froze, eyes narrowing. "No."

He blinked at the flat denial. "Just..." he tugged at the upper part of his own garments. "Off."

"Fuck no."

Malanda returned bearing a large, shallow bowl. It was full of a waxy liquid so thick that it was almost a paste, faintly green. Rentic looked at her. \\"She won't let me treat her."\\

\\"Did you tell her you wanted to soothe her welts, or did you just tell her to strip?"\\

\\"Um, well..."\\

\\"Dolt,"\\ she said mildly. \\"After a spell with Tinactus, I don't wonder that she doubts any man who tells her to remove her garments. Explain, and tell her I will help her. Then leave the room."\\

Rentic said hesitantly. "Back hurts?"

She winced at the reminder. "Duh. Yes, it hurts."

Rentic touched the dish Malanda had set on the table. "Good. Take pain, no poison come."

"Okay, medicine. I understand that. But I'm not taking my shirt off."

Rentic shook his head. "I go. Malanda, she help. Yes?"

After a moment of thought, Mozelle nodded grudgingly. Rentic left, happy to turn the new slave over to Malanda. Though he could speak to her, he was a long way from understanding her. His own freedom was many years in the past, and he had a hard time imagining what she must be going through.

With gestures and coaxing noises, Malanda managed to get the woman to shed her top garment. She was quite astounded to see that she wore something underneath, some sort of chest protector, but made of soft, shiny material. It looked like a courtesan's garment. But the woman was so matter of fact about it, that she wondered about her first conclusion.

She only agreed to unfasten the odd garment and remove it when she clutched her outer garment to her chest, hiding herself. She really must not have been slave long to still retain such modesty, even with her own sex.

When Malanda saw the woman's back, she moaned in sympathy, and cursed the slave trader. The soft white skin was criss-crossed by thick, wide pink welts, decorating her from the top to the base of her spine. Some of the marks licked up on her shoulder, and where they crossed, they deepened to angry red. A few more, and blisters would have popped up, blood would have burst through.

Malanda dipped her fingers in the ointment and, as gently as possible, smoothed it over the wounds.

Mozelle hissed at the contact on her raw skin, but almost immediately some of the pain faided. The stuff was cool almost to the point of coldness, soothing on the false heat caused by the blows. It smelled faintly of mint, and other herbs she couldn't identify. When she was done, Malanda tried to disuade her, but she replaced her bra, and redonned her shirt.

Part Five

Rentic returned, peeking in to be sure it was all right. She said, "Sorry I cussed you. That really helped. Thank you."

"Good. You come now."

"I've got nothing better to do."

She followed him out of the kitchen, toward the main part of the house. Mozelle couldn't help admiring the place. *Electricity, central air and heat, indoor plumbing, and this would be a fantastic place. Wait a minute... indoor plumbing. Cripes, I'm gonna have to ask this guy what sort of facilities they have, and he's going to think I'm some sort of throwback.* And the issue was going to come up--soon.

He led her to a room only a few steps from the kitchen that had a mural of a bright blue sky laced with fluffy clouds painted on the plastered wall. The Lady Dramilla was there, along with another grey haired woman. The elder woman was a slave, dressed in the usual simple tunic, a bronze collar around her neck.

A small, dark haired boy of about nine peeked from behind the slave woman's back, eyeing Mozelle curiously. She smiled automatically, without thinking. The boy clung closer to the woman, but he smiled back.

Lady Dramilla was sitting on a rough bed, nursing an infant. She was utterly unselfconscious when they entered. She removed the nipple from the baby's mouth and handed the child to the slave woman. As Dramilla repinned her garment the woman put the baby up to her shoulder and began rubbing it's back gently. In a moment there was a very respectable burp. Mozelle found herself grinning. Some things were the same, no matter what century.

Rentic gestured toward the little boy, who was tickling the baby's bare toes. "Gaius." He touched the baby's back gently. "Patenic."

*All right. What's the proper etiquette for meeting the children of the people who own you?* She touched the baby gently, and it turned it's wobbly head to gaze at her. "Patenic." Then she bent down and offered her hand to Gaius. "Gaius?" The little boy regarded her hand closely, then reached out tentatively and touched her fingers, drawing back with a giggle.

Lady Dramilla watched the interaction with satisfaction. \\"Rentic, explain her duties."\\

Rentic cleared his throat. He indicated the slave woman and the two childern. "You help Tessa with children. Bathe, feed, play." He touched her arm for emphasis. "Protect. Important."

She gave him a look that said he had stated the obvious. "Of course protect. Like they were mine."

Rentic translated this to Lady Dramilla, who nodded. Excellent. Exactly as she had hoped. She left the room, happy with her purchase.

Rentic left also, and this left Mozelle, Tessa, and Gaius exchanging shy looks. At last Mozelle said wistfully, "I don't guess you speak English?"

Tessa's wrinkled face brightened. "Britanic? Rentic teach some."

Mozelle clapped her hands in delight. "Hot damn! A female source of information. Can you tell me how, er, where I go to weewee?" The woman's face puckered in confusion. "Ah. This won't be as simple as I thought. Uh, urinate?" Another puzzled look. "Answer nature's call?" Tessa shook her head. "Hm." Mozelle touched Gaius' s shoulder, urging him to turn away. Then she mimiced lifting skirts, squatting slightly, and made a hissing sound.

Tessa's face lighted, and she laughed. \\"You need to make water. All right."\\ She put the baby down in a well padded basket, opened a small cabinet, and showed her a metal bowl and stack of cloths. "Bad weather, night. Come." They went back into the corridor, and out a door. They were in a small fenced area. Near the back was what could only be an outhouse.

It wasn't too bad, actually. They kept it very clean, and it hardly smelled at all. Tessa showed her the pile of (rougher than she'd have liked) cloths, and the small bucket of white powder she was to scoop in after using it for solid waste. Then she left her alone. A few minutes later Mozelle emerged, feeling a little more at peace with the world.

*Okay, let's weigh the situation. I have a roof over my head, clothes on my back. I'm going to be fed regularly from the looks of things. They have a toilet of sorts. The people I'm with seem relatively decent. I even have a job. I have to look at it that way if I don't want to turn into a howling lunatic. I have the feeling that insane slaves don't have a good time of it here, no matter how kind their owners are. Okay, I can do this. I can cope. And maybe I'll wake up sometime.*

Back in the house Tessa sat on the bed and began stitching on what looked like it would be a small shirt. Since she'd been given no direction, Mozelle prowled the room, examining it. Besides the large bed, there was a smaller one. The small one was more carefully made, with smoothly sanded wood, a thick pad, and a plump pillow. It also had smooth sheets and a heavy coverlet. Gaius sat crosslegged on it, playing with what looked like a handful of polished stones, so that was obviously his bed, and the baby probably slept with his nurse That took care of Tessa, Patenic, and Gaius.

She went to stand beside Tessa, and asked, "Where do I sleep?"

Tessa frowned. "No sleep now."

Mozelle sighed. This pidgin English wasn't as effective as she might have wished. "No, I don't want to sleep now. I want to know where I'm going to sleep." When Tessa looked puzzled again, Mozelle held a hand over her eyes and scanned the room. Then she held both hands, palms upward, and shrugged, eyebrows lifted.

Gaius said, "Ah! Bed!"

He climbed off his bed, reached under it, and pulled out what looked like a stuffed canvas bag. He dragged it till it lay across the doorway, then patted it. He pointed at Mozelle. "You." He pointed at the bag, folded his hands, and lay his cheek against them, closing his eyes.

Mozelle stared at it, then rolled her eyes upward, muttering, "It's better than nothing, it's better than nothing, it's better than nothing..." After all, she'd managed to sleep on a stone alter the previous night. She could deal with this.

She helped the little boy stuff the pallet back under his bed. Then he tugged her hand till she sat beside him on the bed. Scooping up the stones, he poured them into her palm. He said helpfully, "Tesserae."

Mozelle examined them more closely. "Well, I'll be darned. Dice." And dice they were. Not quite as meticulously formed as the machine made dice she was used to, but dice nonetheless. "Don't suppose you have a Monopoly game to go with these, do ya sport? I play a mean game of Monopoly. Or how about Trivial Pursuit? I'd be SURE to win at that."

He made a tossing motion. "Throw."

She rattled the dice in her hands and tossed them on the bed. He tapped each one, muttering under his breath, then gathered them up, shook them in his hands so vigorously that one leapt free, and dropped them on the bed. Again he tabulated them, then looked up at her with a smug smile. "Hah."

She gave a mocking gasp, hands on hips, and said, "So, you won, did you?" She started to tease him about the fact that he could cheat outragiously, since she had no concept of the game. She stopped short, thinking that this might not be a good idea. If she remembered correctly, the ancient Romans had been a bit fanatical about honor. It might be a serious thing to accuse someone of cheating, even in jest.

He handed her the dice again, and she threw them, and watched as he once again began his count. She was going to have to start paying attention. There was no telling how long she'd be here, or even if she'd ever get back home at all, so it would be sensible to start trying to learn the language. *Full immersion. People pay good money back home for that.*

The three older occupants of the room paid no attention to the young man who entered a moment later. When Somnus bent over the cradle, though, little Patenic smiled up at him. He returned the smile, and tickled the baby till he gurgled. Tessa gave a fond look at the infant. What on earth could the little thing find so amusing.? Somnus stroked the baby's head, sending him off to the deep, peaceful slumber that only infants can achieve. Then he considered Tessa. Yes, she could do with a nap. He hadn't gotten to the baby last night, and the little mite had kept her up. He passed a hand over her face. The hands busy stitching stilled, her eyes drifted shut. In a moment, there was a soft snore. He nodded. Yes, that was better.

He stood and watched the dice game between Dischordia's newest irritant and the little boy for a moment. She looked almost peaceful. This both pleased and worried Somnus.

He had no reason to wish the woman ill. In fact, she seemed like a good sort. He'd be happy for her to settle in here, since he couldn't do anything to return her to her home world. But he had to hope that, in that case, Dischordia would forget her, find something else to be outraged about. Seeing a mortal who had unconsciously belittled her sense of self living a life of anything approaching serentiy would drive Discordia to make sure that some turmoil entered that life.

Part Six

Dischordia seemed to have found other things to outrage her for the next few weeks. Mozelle settled into the household with minimal difficulty. Dramilla's husband, Lucius, had at first been a bit irritated by the expense of the new slave. After all, she couldn't even speak a civilized language. Still, he couldn't fault her work. She was quite devoted to the children, even after such a short time, and she got on well with the other slaves. Gaius and Tessa had become very fond of her. He supposed Patenic had, also. It was so hard to tell with infants, especially as he didn't see the children much. Such was the custom.

Dramilla did more first hand observing, though it seemed to Mozelle that they both spent precious little time with the children. She couldn't understand that. She'd never been able to understand the concept of letting someone else raise your children unless you flat couldn't do it yourself.

She was... well, not really happy. Though she came to care deeply for the children, old Tessa, cheerful Malanda, even *stick up his butt* Rentic. Her feelings about her owners were more guarded because they were, well, her owners.

It worried her sometimes that she wasn't more upset about her situation--slavery that was. She kept having the vague notion that she ought to be screaming in outrage, or plotting escapes, or shouting defiance, instead of helping wash out the baby's poopy diapers. *The fact of the matter is...* She dipped a particularly pungent cloth into the wash basin and reached for the globby stuff she supposed was a form of soap. *I'm really not good at that sort of stuff. Plotting, planning, strategy, intrigue, espionage, whatever. And how the hell do I blend in when the extent of my Latin is things like 'Change his diaper'?*

Now, had she been stuck with someone like that first guy... What was his name? Tictac, or something. Sounded like a breath spray, or jock itch cure. Yes, he inspired rebellion, because you knew that life as his slave was marginally better than oh, say, death by slow torture.

"It ain't like a girl has much choice," she said to Patenic, who was kicking happily on a blanket spread on the grass nearby. "It's pretty much that ol' 'make the best of a bad situation, between a rock and a hard place, devil you know versus the devil you don't know' stuff." She spread the last of the cloths and dumped the water. "Not that you'd understand that, huh, baby?" He gurgled, and she tickled his belly.

Dischordia, sitting on the back garden wall, watched this with a scowl on her face. Disgustingly peaceful. Well, she had a little surprise arriving any minute now that should take care of that nicely.

As if on cue a young man turned into the rough lane that ran behind the grounds. He was dressed in a simple, dusty tunic, his legs streaked with more dust, and mud. He looked up and down the lane, then went to the wall where the goddess perched, invisible to mortal eyes.

The dark haired man jumped, catching hold of the top of the wall, and pulled himself up, peering over the top. He scanned the garden and his eyes fixed on the woman playing with the baby. She was turned away from him.

*That must be Patenic* Lupus thought. *But who's that with him?* Too young for Tessa, and Malanda couldn't have lost that much weight. And he knew that his mother would never have let Shimorn near Patenic after she nearly lost Gaius down the well that time.

The eldest son of the house heaved himself up over the wall, narrowly missing giving Dischordia a kick. This earned him bared teeth that he did not see, but she was too eager to see what mischief his sudden arrival would cause to strike out now.

Lupus dropped lightly to the ground, landing in a crouch. Lightly, yes, but the woman must have had good ears. She looked around. He had a brief impression of startled blue eyes. Then she moved with unexpected swiftness.

Patenic was swooped into her arms so suddenly that he shrieked in fear. At the same moment, the woman was moving toward the house, screaming, "Rentic, help!"

Gaping at the turn of events, Lupus said, \\"No, wait, it's all right."\\

Tessa had appeared in the door, alarmed. The woman shoved the thrashing, bawling baby into her arms, saying, "Run!" She darted into the room, disappearing for a moment.

Tessa stared after her, confused, then looked outside. She frowned worriedly at the young man, then said tentatively, \\"Master Lupus?"\\

A second later, the woman was back. She pushed at the old woman. "Run! Run! Rentic!" She turned back to face Lupus, lifting her hand. She was holding Tessa's shears, gripping them like a dagger. The long blades glinted. She was trembling, but she snarled, "You get out of here! Leave us alone."

Tessa, horrified, lost whatever hold she'd had on Brittanic and started babbling in Latin as the baby's howls rose.

Lupus approached cautiously. He said carefully, "No danger."

Her brow wrinkled at his use of Brittanic, but the blades didn't lower. "Oh yeah, like I really believe you. Go away!"

There was the clatter of approaching footsteps, as the rest of the household arrived. Rentic and Malanda came into the children's room behind Mozelle. Lucius and Dramilla came around the barrier that separated their private gardern from the back area. Dischordia clapped her hands happily, eyeing the milling people.

Rentic grabbed Mozelle's wrist. "Mozelle! What you do?"

"He just came over the back wall. Do something!" She watched in amazement as Lady Dramilla walked over to the disheveled, dirty young man and gingerly kissed him on the cheek. "What's going on?" She allowed Rentic to pry the scissors out of her hand.

"Master Lupus. Home from school."

She stared. That disreputable looking thing? "But you said school." Gaius had run squealing to his big brother, and was swung up into the air, giggling. "With Gaius, I thought maybe twelve or thirteen..." This wasn't a boy, it was a man. He had to be at least twenty.

Lucius shook hands with his son, clapping him on the back. \\"We weren't expecting you for days."\\

\\"I know. I took my tests early. I thought I'd surprise you by sneaking in. I suppose I succeeded."\\

\\"I suppose so. I think you scared a year off our new slave. Come along."\\

They went over to where the household slaves were gathered near the children's room. Rentic had a tight grip on the woman who'd brandished the scissors. She still looked alarmed, but for a much different reason now. Lupus had heard Rentic hiss to her that it could mean death for a slave to threaten her owner. Dischordia hopped off the wall, interested, and came over to listen more closely.

Part Seven

\\"I must admit, this wasn't quite the welcome home I expected."\\ Lupus eyed the still distressed woman curiously. \\"So, you hired an amazon to look after the boys?"\\

\\"Don't be silly,"\\ his mother said dryly. \\"Everyone knows amazons have no maternal instincts. Her name is Mozelle. Shimorn died several months ago. Stupid girl. Malanda told her that the pork was being thrown away for a reason, but she would insist on eating it."\\

Lupus sighed. \\"That's too bad."\\ Shimorn had been a bust as a nursemaid, and not that much use at anything else, but she'd been an adequate bed partner. Now he'd have to patronize the bawdy houses if he wanted a bit of pleasure.

Lucius eyed his son shrewdly. Lupus had been bedding the nursermaid, of course. It was to be expected with a young buck like him. No doubt he'd assumed he'd have a warm and willing bed partner near to hand during his stay. \\"You look and smell like a barbarian, son,"\\ he said mildly. \\"Come in an get decently clean."\\

Rentic said \\"Master, about Mozelle...?"\\

\\"Oh. I suppose I should do something."\\ He looked at Lupus. \\"You're the one she almost skewered. What do you think should be done with her?"\\

Lupus studied the woman. She stared back, not dropping her eyes as most slaves did. That would have earned her a beating in some of the stricter households. \\"I'd say give her a reward."\\

\\"What?"\\ His father regarded him with mild surprise. \\"You can't be serious. She fully intended to stab you, boy. I know you're trained to defend yourself at school, but a woman guarding a child can be dangerous."\\

\\"Exactly. She was guarding Patenic. She had no idea who I was. I'd say she did exactly what she should have."\\ Lupus pulled a small bag off his belt and opened it. He extracted a silver coin, took the woman's hand and pressed it into her palm. He pointed at Patenic. "Guard well." He patted her arm, nodding.

"Oh. Uh... thank you." He smiled, patted her arm again, and followed his parents to the family section of the house.

Malanda was jabbering to Rentic. \\"Here he is back, and me without a decent meal to set before him! Rentic, you'll needs go to market for me. I'll need a nice, fat lamb, and a few quail, I think. If you can't get them, chicken will do, if they're young enough. And some of those tiny little green peas he likes so much. The mint has just come in, and it will go well with them."\\

\\"I'll need to pick up that cask of wine today, too,"\\ Rentic fretted. \\"Have you time to make a fit dessert?"\\

\\"No. Get spice cakes from Boferus in the market. And some sweets from the third stall after his. Not the second, the third!"\\

Rentic was muttering the list of ingredients and tasks under his breath as he headed for the door. Then he stopped and smacked a palm against his head. \\"Dischordia have mercy! I almost forgot about Master Lupus's bath!"\\

Dischordia had followed them into the house. Now she grinned contentedly. Things had been quieting down. Imagine the young man rewarding that impertinent wench. Dischordia leaned over and whispered in Rentic's ear. \\"You must go to the market."\\

\\"I must go to the market."\\

\\"But your master needs to be tended to."\\

\\"But Master Lupus must be tended to."\\

Malanda was already up to her wrists in dough, kneading frantically. \\"Don't natter to me about it. I have work to do."\\

Rentic thought. \\"Perhaps Tessa..."\\

Dischordia whispered again. \\"Tessa is busy with the baby."\\

\\"But Tessa is busy with the boys."\\

\\"And who does that leave?"\\

His face cleared. \\"I'm in such a hurry I almost forgot. Mozelle can do it."\\

Malanda kept working the dough. \\"Are you sure about that?"\\

\\"Why not? It's simple enough. All she has to do is help him undress, bathe him, and help him dress. She's done it for Gaius."\\

\\"And nearly blushed herself to death with a ten year old boy. She's likely to have apoplexy if you ask her to bathe Lupus."\\

\\"Nonsense. It's a simple household task. It's not as if she's a pleasure slave, expected to perform."\\ He walked back to the children's room.

In a moment, Malanda heard a loud squawk. "You want me to do what?" She shook her head, sighing. She loved Rentic dearly, but sometimes he could be very dense for such a clever man.

He came back into the kitchen, followed closely by a very distressed Mozelle, who was jabbering frantically in her peculiar version of Britanic. "But... but he's a guy! I'm a girl! Don't you people have any concept of... of separation of the sexes? I thought that type of stuff only happened in Japan."

Rentic scowled. "Why you care?"

"Because I'm not in the habit of looking at men when they're starkers, much less handling them!" Dischordia watched, clapping her hands. Oh, now that impertinent wench had her toga in a twist.

Rentic sighed. "Mozelle, I busy. Malanda busy, Tessa busy. You do."

"Can't he bathe himself? I could bathe myself when I was four or five."

Rentic and Malanda both looked shocked. Make a master bathe himself when there was a perfectly good slave available? Rentic said heavily, "Mozelle, you do! You want go back Tinactus?" It was a bluff. Rentic doubted heartily that Lady Dramilla would return this slave to the one who had sold her, no matter how recalcitrant she proved. She had seen the man's intentions for the slave, and would not abandon her to such attentions if she could help it. But the bluff worked.

Mozelle suddenly got quiet, some of the color leaving her face. Her voice very small, she said, "He won't... um... get the wrong idea, will he?"

Rentic rolled his eyes, but Mandala patted her shoulder gently with a flour coated hand. \\"Can't you see she's frightened, my love? Tell her she'll be all right. Master Lupus would never force himself on a woman, free or slave."\\

Rentic said, "Mozelle, Lupus..." He searched for words. "Good man. Not hurt woman. Not hurt you."

She said morosely, "People have different definitions of hurt." But he could tell by her eyes that she was resigned.

He showed her to the small bathing room, a tiled enclosure with a place for a fire on chilly days. The bath was a small sunken pool, about a dozen feet square. At one end the water was barely knee high, sloping quickly to four feet deep. There was a constant circulation of water from a natural spring. It had been quite hideously expensive, but Lucius felt that it would pay for itself with the fees he saved from the public baths. And this way his wife could enjoy it, also.

Rentic showed her where the soaps and towels were, brought in a fresh tunic, and explained what was expected before he left her. She paced nervously. It was ridiculous--grown, healthy people being dressed and bathed.

Dischordia watched the woman with malicious glee. \\"Not so placid now, are you?"// she chortled. \\"I haven't had this much fun since I ran that rat through the procession of Vestal Virgins."\\

\\"Dischordia,"\\ Somnus appeared. \\"You're neglecting your duties. Zeus says for you to get on with things."\\

\\"Just a little while longer. The man should be here any moment now. I want to see if she stands her ground, or bolts."\\

\\"Now, Dischordia. Two drunken charioteers are even now making a bet about a race through the market place."\\

The goddess perked up. \\"Oo! Flying fruit stalls!"\\ She disappeared. With a shake of his head and a sympathetic glance at the woman, Somnus disappeared also.

Lupus entered the bathing room, whistling softly to himself. It was good to be home. He had enjoyed his time at the acadamy, but he was glad that his formal schooling was coming to an end. Communal living with none but his own sex did not appeal to him.

When he entered the room, expecting to find Rentic ready to attend him, he found instead the new slave. A little surprised, he said, "Rentic?"

"Shopping. If you want to wait for him, I can go see if Malanda needs me in the kitchen." She sounded hopeful.

Lupus most definitely did not want to wait for Rentic to return. He was tired and dirty, and wanted very much to get clean. "No. You do." He waited for her to begin to disrobe him. She stood there, wringing her hands uncertainly.

Lupus frowned. What on earth was the woman waiting for? Then he remembered his mother telling him how new she was to slavery. They were her first owners, and apparantly the only duties she'd had so far was a few household chores, and caring for the children. She didn't know how to be a body slave. Questioningly he said, "You no do this before?" She shook her head. He sighed, but smiled at her encouragingly. Crooking a finger, he said, "Here."

She approached cautiously. He touched his belt. "Do." When she hesitated he took her hands and placed them on the knot at his hip. "Do."

"Oh." She began to pick at the knot, working the ends loose. He watched her. She was biting her bottom lip in concentration. His eyes lingered there, and he felt a spark of interest.

At last she got the belt undone. He pinched a fold of his tunic and lifted it, saying, "Off." He put his arms up and waited.

"Okay." She took hold of the tunic and pulled it up. He bent, and helped her slide it over his head. She inhaled sharply, eyes going big, and turned away quickly to lay aside the garment. He heard her muttering, "God, hasn't underwear been invented yet?"

Lupus felt a tickle of amusement. A modest slave. This might be fun. He went to the pool and stepped into the water. "You." She darted a look at him, eyes resolutely on his face. He beckoned again. "Come." She edged nearer. Lupus pointed at the edge of the pool. "Sit."

Looking puzzled, the woman sat down beside the pool. He sighed, as if his patience was being tried, and grabbed her ankles, dragging her foreward till her feet dangled in the water. Then he turned around and sat down, pushing back till his back was against the pool's wall, between her legs. She was very still. He looked back up at her. "Hair first."

"Great. Now I'm a cosmotologist." There was a pottery jug provided. She dipped up water and poured it over his head, wetting his hair. She scooped up a glob of the creamy white stuff Malanda had brought from the still room. "I'm assuming that this is what I use, since there doesn't seem to be any shampoo."

"Yes."

She worked the stuff into his hair and it foamed nicely. She'd never washed anyone else's hair before, but she seemed to do all right. She tried not to pull or scrape with her nails as she massaged the scalp.

Lupus was enjoying it. The woman had a good touch--gentle, yet firm. He felt himself relaxing, the tensions from his journey easing away. She dipped up more water, to rinse. As she poured it over his head she laid a hand against his brow, shadowing his eyes. He realized that she was protecting him from the soap. Very good. Many slaves forgot that.

She kept rinsing. All the soap was gone, but she kept dipping and pouring. *Oh. A little reluctant to move on, are we?* He took a cloth and handed to her. Scooting forward a bit, he said "In water to wash."

After another moment's hesitation she stepped down into the pool. He looked at her, staring pointedly at her pants, which were now soaked up to the knee. Body servants usually stripped when they came into the pool to bathe their master. Then he shook his head, deciding to allow it. She was a bit skittish as it was, and if this made her more comfortable...

Mozelle again scooped up some of the soap. She smeared it across his back, then started rubbing it in with the cloth. He sighed, and leaned back to her touch. His back and shoulders felt really tense. She held the cloth in both hands and rubbed harder, massaging. He sighed again, and muttered, "Good." She felt a touch of satisfaction. She could do this. It wasn't so hard.

He held out his arms, and she cleaned and massaged them also. They were grubbier, from the dust in the road. She even paid attention to each finger, working them gently. She had become engrossed in her work, and didn't notice that he was watching her.

*She's being wasted as a nursemaid. She ought to be trained as a body slave. She's got the right touch, and attention to detail.*

She shifted to his side, reaching around to soap his chest. He sat up a little straighter as the soapy cloth brushed over his nipples. She was intent of being thorough, passing the cloth over each section of skin several times. He felt his nipples harden, firming to buds. She rinsed him, and hesitated. The hand holding the cloth made a tentative motion toward the water.

"Ah. Legs now." Lupus stood up and sat on the edge of the pool as she had. Lifting his right foot, he offered it to her. She took it, and began the cleaning process again. His feet and legs had been particularly soiled, and she had to work to get the skin clear again. She worked her way higher. When she reached his upper thigh, her hand moved more quickly and lightly, and she turned her head, seeming to study the play of the light on the water. He offered his left foot, and she began the process again.

Lupus found that he was becoming aroused. Well, nothing unusual about that. He would have wondered at himself if he hadn't. This bath was turning into a deliciously sensual experience. She rinsed the soap from his legs, and he stood again, turning his back to her.

He waited. Nothing. He glanced back to find her staring at the water again. Her cheeks were a bright pink. He smiled slightly. "Mozelle?" She looked up at his eyes. He slapped his buttock. "Wash." She didn't move. Her eyes were huge. He felt his cock stiffening. "Slave." She flinched. He'd used the title deliberately, to remind her of her duty to obey. But his voice was softer when he said, "Wash. Wash well."

Mozelle took a breath. She wasn't going to be able to get out of this. *All right. It's just batheing. There's nothing sexual about it, Mozelle. He isn't interested in you. Young stud like him must have them lined up around the block. Just do it.*

She stroked the cloth over the pale gold skin. *All over tan. Didn't I read that they exercized in the nude at some of the schools? Oo, there's an image for you.* He felt very muscular. She tried to keep a moderate pace, neither hurrying, nor lingering. At last, relieved, she rinsed him.

She put her left hand on the edge of the pool, and started to climb out, but he caught it, stopping her. She looked at him questioningly. He turned and pulled her in front of him. "Not done."

After a pause, she reached out and rubbed the cloth over his abdoment. Mozelle felt the muscles ripple at her touch. *Oh lord, he's hard. What am I gonna do? He can't expect me to touch him there.*

She moved her hand away again. With a sound of impatience, Lupus grabbed her hand and pulled it to his crotch, laying the cloth against his erection. "Slave! Wash!"

Closing her eyes, she obeyed. The cloth was thick with lather now, and she glided it over the column lightly. She made sure to miss nothing, so that she could finish this chore quickly.

Mozelle felt Lupus grasp her right hand again. He pulled the cloth away from her, and she felt a wash of relief that it was now over. But he didn't release her. He guided her hand, closing her fingers around hot flesh. Her eyes sprang open, and she made a little cry, trying to pull back. Lupus tightened his grip on both wrists, holding her.

*She looks frightened. You'd almost think she'd never touched a man before.* He was sorry she was distressed, but he wasn't about to stop. He needed this. It had been weeks since he'd had a woman. He wouldn't rape her, but he intended to find release with her touch. He already knew how skilled those hands could be.

"Be still!" He said firmly. She quieted, except for her trembling. "I not hurt you. You touch." He directed her hand to glide along his length. "Like this." She shook her head. He jerked her left hand so that she half stumbled against him, and hissed, "Slave! Do!"

With a little hitching breath, she closed her eyes. Her fingers tightened, and she began to stroke him. When he was reasonably sure she wouldn't stop, he released her right hand. She hesitated a moment. His grip on her left wrist tightened warningly, and she kept on. Lupus sighed, and gave himself over to the sensations. Gods, but it felt good.

Mozelle forced herself to keep touching him, kept her motion slow and steady. *I can get through this. I can. It's just my hand, I can do it. It's not even anything personal for him. I didn't know a guy's thing could get this hard. Or be this hot. He feels like he has a fever or something.*

The young man started to move his hips, pushing into her grasp. Her hand slipped, squeezing over the swollen head, and he grunted. She froze, afraid she had hurt him, and he would in turn hurt her. But he said roughly, "Again." She repeated the action, and his eyes half closed. "Yes. More. Faster."

Her cheeks burning with shame, she obeyed. His breathing was becoming ragged. Surely he'd have to finish soon. When he touched her face, she was so startled that she cried out. "Sh. Not hurt." She felt him stroke her cheek, her throat. His fingers fluttered over her closed eyelids. "Open. Look at me." Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.

He took her chin in his hand, and directed her gaze to his face. He was flushed, his expression intense. He moved his face close to hers. *Don't kiss me. Please don't do that. Kissing is for when you really want to be doing it.*

He didn't. He just pressed his forehead to hers. His breath was hot against her face, deep and fast. He stared into her eyes from such a short distance that their eyelashes almost brushed. *Oh God, what are you looking for?*

His fingers crawled up her chin, pushing at her lips. "Open." She just stared. He prodded gently, demanding, "Open!" With a small sound of protest, she opened her mouth slightly. He slid his finger inside, stroking her tongue. His thumb urged her jaw up, directing her to close her lips around the invading digit. "Suck."

*It's only his finger. He's... guy's really find that sort of thing sexy? I can't believe I...* He was frowning. Remembering Rentic's threat, she started to suckle softly. His expession smoothed with pleasure. He slid the finger in and out between her clinging lips, pumping more quickly into the tight grip of her hand. He started talking to her, but as it was in Latin, she couldn't understand a word of it. She only hoped he wasn't giving her instructions that she couldn't follow.

\\"I'll have to send old Rentic shopping more often. You're a little slow on the uptake, but not bad at all. But why are you acting so frightened? You tremble like a virgin."\\

He could feel himself approaching orgasm. Her hands were wonderful, but he wanted just a bit more. Lupus moved along the edge of the pool toward deeper water, pulling the slave along. She seemed relieved that he'd stopped her ministrations, but hung back. He jerked impatiently. He wanted to come soon, and her delay was irritating. "Come, woman."

He hauled her out till the water was lapping about her shoulder, then pushed her up against the side of the pool and pressed against her. She didn't make a sound, but she started twisting and squirming, trying to shove him away. But Lupus was much stronger, and determined. With the bouyancey of the water he lifted her easily and pinned her against the wall at just the right height, and began humping against her crotch.

Her clothes were completely soaked now, clinging to her. He slid his hands up under her shirt and was surprised to find his touch bared by some sort of undergarment. He didn't have the patience to try to remove it, so he settled for massaging the soft mounds through the cloth. Nice enough. Shimorn had been a flat chested girl. This one was nicely fleshed.

She'd stopped resisting. She just hung in his arms, trembling. He slowed himself. He'd never been one to just selfishly take what he wanted from a woman, free or slave. It was so much better if they enjoyed it, too. She was doing well, she deserved a little pleasure also.

Lupus bent his head and kissed her throat, licking upward to tickle just below her ear. She shuddered, and made a small sound in the back of her throat. Yes, that was better. He lifted her legs up around his hips, settling himself in the cradle of her thighs, and surged against her. This would put pressure on the little pleasure bud, he knew. He'd have to see that she got a proper tunic. Then he could have just lifted it, but with these odd trousers... He was too close to the edge to take the time to strip her now.

The mewling noises she was making weren't entirely distress now. Her mouth was softly trembling, her eyes hot and confused. He couldn't last to take her over to her own release. He came with an explosive curse, driving against her hard. The ever circulating water spun the ropy swirls of his come away, to be washed out through the drain.

He rested against her, regaining his breath, feeling the warm wash of gentler pleasure that followed the more intense ecstacy of orgasm. Her head was dropped on his shoulder, chest heaving with ragged breaths. He stroked her hair approvingly. "Good slave." Not looking up, she gave a moaning sob. Poor thing. It would be cruel to leave her hanging like this. He put his hand down between her legs.

She stiffened, head shooting up. "Why?"

"You burn." He explained. "Good for me. Now you."

He was shocked when she thrashed violently. Taken by surprise, she managed to shove him away. He slipped, taking a dunking. By the time he'd spluttered to his feet, she'd floundered back to the shallow end and was crawling out. She gained her feet and started toward the door. "Slave!" She froze, then turned back slowly. He studied the shivering woman, perplexed. He'd only been trying to help her find her own pleasure. He shook his head. Well, it was beyond him. "Wait."

He waded back to the shallow end, and got out. He pointed to the towel by the pool, looking at her expectantly. After a moment, head down, she came back and picked up the towel. She dried him competently. She was careful never to let her hands brush his bare skin, though. Then she helped him into his fresh tunic and stood, eyes downcast, waiting to be dismissed.

Lupus regarded her. Odd woman. Finally he touched her chin, directing her to look at him. "Mozelle? No run. Understand? Next time, no run." He left the room.

Mozelle stumbled back into the kitchen. Malanda saw the shocked look on her face. Clucking, she made the white faced woman sit down, and gave her a glass of cool water with a pinch of nerve soothing herbs blended in. She'd told Rentic that the girl wasn't ready for that. Apparantly Master Lupus had been feeling rather frisky, and had sported with the woman. Mandala wished she knew more of Britanic. Then she could have understood the words the girl kept muttering, over and over. But what did, "Next time" mean?

Part Eight

Venus, lounging beside her scrying pool, gave a cat-like smile. That had been a nice little interlude. The Goddess of Love and Sexual Pleasure had a particular fondness for young men, and Lupus was as fine a mortal as she'd run across in several milleniea. It was a pleasure to see him enjoy himself so much.

She frowned. The girl was a problem, though. She'd started to feel the pleasure, Venus was sure, but she fought it. Why? Lupus was such a lovely young man, and he hadn't been harsh with her. She'd been... Venus was frowning again, and she made a conscious effort to smooth her features, even though, as a divinity, she could not get wrinkles.

She was distant, that was it. It had been difficult to influence her. The silly thing would have just skimmed Lupus quickly with the cloth if Venus hadn't interferred, losing the opportunity to caress that lovely, strong body.

There was something different about this mortal, and she wanted to find out what it was. Who was the greatest gossip monger among the gods and goddesses? Juno could sling mud with the best of them when she wasn't in a noble mood. No, the best bet would be Dischordia. She delighted in causing trouble, but she was usually accurate.

She located the other goddess supervising a street war between two rival gangs of urchins. At stake was a rather skinny, pathetic dog, which she had scheduled to bite whoever won. \\"Cordie. Keeping busy, I see."\\

\\"Small chores to large tasks."\\ She nodded approval as one child took a stick to another. \\"I have a village being sacked on the coast this afternoon, but I love the detail work as well as the sweeping gestures."\\

\\"You're the most informed about the confusion of the mortals, Cordie. I've run into one that really seems to have her head in a whirl. I can't understand why she hasn't come to my attention before, and I was wondering if you could tell me anything about her."\\

\\"If it's detrimental, I can. Who is it?"\\

\\"It's a new slave belonging to a family that lives just up the street here. I believe her name is Mozelle. She was bought as a nursemaid, and this afternoon..."\\

Dischordia's eyes lit up with unholy glee. \\"What did he do to her?"\\

Venus was taken aback. \\"Not all that much. That's why I'm curious. She was aroused by him, but she was nearly panicked by her feelings. Ran away before the dear boy could help her to the final relief."\\

The Goddess of Mischief and Chaos scowled. \\"You don't mean to say she enjoyed it? Even a little? Damn!"\\

\\"Great Jupiter, Dischordia, what do you have against that poor mortal woman? She seems totally inoffensive."\\

\\"Look, Vee, maybe they don't worship us in the twenty-first century, but that doesn't give her leave to go lolling about on one of my altars, like it was a futon."\\

\\"Twenty-first...? Cordie! You time travelled!"\\

Shifting of feet. Grudgingly, \\"A little."\\

\\"And you brought back a mortal? Oh, Cordie! Dad will not like this."\\

\\"I was within my rights. If it's left on one of my altars, it's an offering. And why shouldn't a virgin be offered up to me? Don't they cause confusion enough in the world?"\\

Venus's voice rose. \\"A virgin? Cordie! You know very well that they fall into the province of either Vesta, myself, or Diana."\\

Dischordia grinned nastilly. \\"Well, you ladies are welcome to try to protect her, if you want. But I'm a long way from through with her."\\

\\"I ought to just send her back at once."\\

\\"You can't."\\ Discordia sounded smug. \\"She can't be sent back, Jupiter won't allow it. They've stopped believing in us, then. If she goes back, they could come looking for us. With all that technical magic, there's a chance they could find us."\\

\\"If she spoke about us, she'd most likely be locked away somewhere with padded corners and no sharp objects."\\

\\"Probably. But her age loves off-the-wall theories. They have these things called tabloids. You'd love them, Vee. What isn't wierdness is sex."\\

\\"Look, Cordie, I'm going to ask Dad about this. Don't you do anything rotten to that woman till I have his answer."\\

Dischordia stuck out her tongue. \\"That could be centuries! You know how preoccupied he gets. I'm not giving up my fun entirely."\\

Venus sighed. \\"Well, just don't endanger her physically. Keep her alive, healthy, and out of the hands of danger."\\

\\"All right, all right. Sheesh. What, do we have a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Mortals now?"\\

\\"Just remember."\\ Venus left to begin the daunting task of arranging a meeting with her father.

Dischordia thoughtfully tripped a man carrying a tray of fresh pastries, and watched as the children broke off their war to scramble for the windfall. They dodged the flailing, cursing vendor, snatching up sweets and pelting away into the crowd. As a final touch, she had the dog rip the man's pants open at the seat.

Her eyes narrowed. \\"I won't hurt her. Physically. But you didn't say a danm thing about mental anguish."\\ Perking up, she popped off with a good will to start the pillage of the village.

Part Nine

\\"Malanda has outdone herself on such short notice."\\ Lucius dipped his fingers into the plate of roasted peppers, scooping up a fragrant gob of red and green.

Lupus nodded in happy agreement. \\"We have plenty of food at school, but it's plain. No one thinks to season it much. They never put mint in the peas, the way I like it."\\

The family half reclined on comfortable couchs, the dishes spread before them on low tables, as was the custom. Rentic hovered nearby, ready to refill goblets as needed.

\\"So, you will not miss school?"\\ Dramilla watched her eldest son fondly. She had delayed his entering the Acadamy. He had been twelve, instead of ten, as was usual. She just hadn't been able to bear parting with him. When Gaius was born, though, she listened to her husband, and sent him off to spend most of the year with other noble or moneyed youths at the school.

Consequently, though he was technically of age, he hadn't really had the full privileges that accompanied manhood. He'd been patient about this, joking that it was to his advantage to be the eldest at school. Dramilla wanted to do something special for him to celebrate his ascendency into adult hood. She'd discussed it with her husband. Generally, a young man did not own a personal slave until he bought one on his own. They had decided to gift their son with a slave of his choosing. Dramilla had been scouting possibilities for some time. Now that he was home, she hoped to get some idea of his desires in that area. Then she could obtain a selection of possibles and present them to him.

Malanda entered, bearing proudly before her the roast lamb. Its little body was trussed in a natural lying position, head resting on bent knees. The skin was a succulent, golden brown. Mozelle followed with a tray of tiny roast fowl. She was eyeing the lamb in a distinctly queasy fashion. She'd lost her lunch when Rentic butchered it. Dischordia would have been pleased.

Malanda placed the lamb before Lucius, then helped Mozelle distribute the quail while Rentic began to carve slices from it. The first went to Lucius, the second to Lupus, as men were served first. When they started to move on to Dramilla, Lupus grabbed Mozelle's shirt, stopping her. \\"Malanda, you can finish serving alone, can't you?"\\

The cook hesitated. \\"Aye, Master Lupus. I can."\\

\\"Good. Take the tray and leave her here with me, would you?"\\ Malanda glanced at Lucius, who shrugged. She took the tray from Mozelle and laid the last quail before Lady Dramilla.

Mozelle watched this apprehensively. "Malanda?"

"You stay."

\\"What are you up to, Lupus?"\\ his mother asked.

\\"Just wanting a little pampering, Mother."\\ he replied. He scooted back a little, making room, and tugged at the woman till she sat on the edge of the couch. He pointed at the food, then at his mouth. "Feed."

"You have to be joking. There aren't even any spoons or forks. I know forks aren't invented till around the Middle Ages, but still..."

He pushed at her thigh, and said firmly, "Feed!"

"Oh, God, this is so unsanitary." She broke off a piece of bread and offered it to him. He opened his mouth, lifting his eyebrows. She sighed and leaned forward, tucking the morsel in his mouth. He nodded, chewing contentedly.

Rentic had placed a thick, pink slice of lamb before them, the plate swimming with juices. Lupus pointed at it next. There weren't any knives available. With a grimace she wrestled a chunk off it, coating her fingers with grease. "Oh, gross, gross, gross." She fed him, then plucked off another bite and repeated the process. "When I think of that poor little thing, it's almost enough to make me a vegetarian. It does smell good, though."

"Mozelle!" Rentic hissed. "No talk."

\\"It's all right, Rentic."\\ Lupus smiled up at the other man. \\"I can't understand much of it, but I like to hear her talk. She has a pleasant voice. I've never heard an accent like that."\\

He watched in amusement as she struggled to dismember the quail, muttering what were obviously curses. When she offered the tiny drumstick, he grasped her wrist and held her still while he gnawed the meat off the bone. For good measure, he licked some of the juice off her fingers. That made her tremble.

Dramilla was busy with discussing the small party they would have in Lupus's honor, but his son was preoccupied with the slave. *So, he's taken a fancy to her. Huh. The woman nearly stabbed him, and now he's playing with her. Funny thing is, the woman isn't playing back with him. That's odd. Most slaves are eager enough to ingratiate themselves to their owners. My son is a handsome, charming man. Still, she seems uncomfortable, even reluctant.*

At last Rentic and Malanda cleared the tables of the half empty platters. They brought around basins of warm water, and fresh towels. Lupus washed his own hands, then plunged Mozelle's into the water, bathing them also, and dried them. The other slaves brought in cakes, sweets, and fruit to finish the meal.

Mozelle was prepared to feed Lupus, as she had before. He had something different in mind this time, though. He sat up a bit higher against the raised arm of the sofa, hooked his arm around her waist, and dragged her down. "Lie."

Startled, she started to struggle. He pinched her sharply, saying, "No, slave."

"Mozelle!" Rentic waved at her, looking annoyed. "Lie. Legs up."

She froze. Was this customary? Dramilla was looking mildly surprised. Lucius, looking indulgent, made the same gesture Rentic had. Slowly she lifted her legs up and stretched out on her side beside Lupus, lying stiffly. What in God's name was he up to?

Lupus turned on his hip, spooning up against her and holding her with his left arm over her waist. With his right hand, he broke off a chunk of cake and ate it, hand idly stroking her belly. The second bit he pressed to her lips, so she ate it. It tasted good, but she was scarcely of any mind to enjoy it.

*This is too bizarre for words.* Candy, figs... He ate and fed her steadily. Mozelle didn't have anything to judge by, but she suspected that there weren't many slaves in the city getting as good a meal as she was right then.

Lupus popped a fat, blue-black grape into her mouth. It burst against her tongue with winey sweetness. *Mff. They haven't gotten seedless grapes yet. What am I going to do with the pip? I can hardly spit it out on the floor.* Lupus cupped his hand in front of her mouth. She mumbled, "Oh, you have got to be kidding." He slapped her lightly on the back of the head, and she spit the seed into his palm. "I should be happy. I don't see how you can be sexually attracted to someone who spits grape seeds into your hand." He fed her another grape, and the process was repeated.

The meal was finally done. Lupus stretched contentedly, snugging her back against him with a sigh. Dramilla said quietly \\"Son, let Mozelle go. She needs to go help Tessa with the boys."\\

Lupus unhooked his arm, and gave the woman a little shove. "Go help Tessa."

"Bout freakin' time." She winced at her own words, but Rentic and Lupus, the only ones who could have possibly understood, looked blank. "The blessings of speaking a different language."

Lupus sat up, watching the slave leave. \\"You know, Mother, she's wasted as a nursery slave. She should be trained. She already does quite well for having no formal instruction."\\

\\"I'm satisfied with her as she is, Lupus. She does exactly what I bought her to do."\\

\\"Would you object if I trained her? I don't have much to occupy me these days."\\

His mother arched her eyebrow. \\"What sort of training?"\\

\\"Oh, as a body servant. Dressing, care of garments, massage... various things."\\

Lucius spoke up. \\"I don't see any reason why not. It can only improve her value. Just don't let it interfer with her duties to the boys, Son."\\

Lupus smiled. \\"No, Father. I think I can find time when she isn't needed."\\

Part Ten

"Mozelle."

Mozelle grumbled, turning on the thin pallet as a tiny finger poked into her ribs. "Wha?" A small body snuggled down beside her. "Gaius? Again?" It wasn't even daylight yet. Not even the faintest grey seeped under the crack of the door out to the garden. She glanced toward the dark lump that was on the larger bed. A mild snore emerged from it. "What's wrong? Did Tessa wake you up?" Gaius shrugged. "Need the chamberpot?" He shook his head. She looked down at him. Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could barely make out his face. Finally she said quietly, "Lonely?" He nodded. She sighed, and put her arms around him. "Me, too."

It wasn't surprising that he felt a little alone. Middle children often experienced that, even in the closest families. And, she'd noted the Roman method of child rearing in this age, at least for this class, did not involve a lot of closeness. Gaius loved Tessa, who had practically raised him, but Tessa was preoccupied these days with the baby. Mozelle was kind and interested, and it wasn't unexpected that he'd fixed his affections on her.

"Go back to sleep, kiddo. We've still got some time." She moved the narrow, rough blanket to cover him as he curled against her and closed her eyes.

Malanda poked Rentic sharply. \\"Husband."\\ Rentic groaned, but otherwise did not respond. She poked again, harder, hissing. \\"Rentic! Get up, I hear someone in the kitchen. It's scarce dawn."\\

Rentic rolled out of bed, fumbling into his tunic. He took a thick staff from beside the bed, and peered out into the kitchen. Someone was crouched by the hearth, feeding a small fire. He lowered the staff, and turned back to his wife, grinning. \\"It's only Master Lupus. You've forgotten what an early riser he is, what with him being away so long."\\

\\"That I have!"\\ She threw off the blanket and started to rise. \\"I'd best attend..."\\

\\"Don't bother, Malanda."\\ Malanda gave a small shriek, snatching for the bedclothes as Lupus appeared in the doorway. He grinned at the plump, blushing woman. \\"There's plenty of bread, cheese, and fruit. That's all I need. I'll feed Gaius and get him off to his tutor. You drag your husband back to bed for an eye opener."\\ He winked cheekily, and left.

Malanda shook her head. \\"How he can be so impudent and so thoughtful at the same time..."\\ She eyed Rentic archly, then flipped back the covers. \\"Well, husband? You heard the young master."\\

Lupus padded down the shadowed hallway toward the children's room, and almost tripped over the two figures sprawled across the doorway. Gaius was nestled next to the new slave, her arms curved around him protectively. He was wrapped in the one thin cover.

Lupus watched them for a moment. His little brother looked peaceful, and content. Mozelle looked a little tired. No doubt the pallet wasn't all that comfortable. The tile floors were aesthetically pleasing, and practical, but damnably cold without a rug to warm them. He wondered if she'd like the chance for more comfortable sleeping arrangements. His own bed was quite nice, rather large, and very empty at the present.

He reached out and stroked Gaius' hair with one hand, touching Mozelle's shoulder with the other, whispering, "Gaius, Mozelle. Wake."

Mozelle stiffened even before her eyes opened, and her arms tightened around her small charge, who emitted a sleepy squeak. She looked up at the man squatting beside her apprehensively, then recognized Lupus. Some of the tension left her, but not all.

He squeezed her shoulder. "Up. Breakfast. Then take Gaius to school."

Mozelle shook Gaius gently. "Time to rise, sunshine."

Gaius sat up, rubbing his eyes, then leaned across her to hug his brother. \\"Lupus. Do I have to go to Napatha today? I'd rather stay here with you."\\

\\"Yes, you have to go. You want to be ready for the Academy next year, don't you?"\\ He nodded. \\"Then you can't neglect your studies. I suppose Rentic has been walking you?"\\ Another nod. He glanced at the woman, who was stifling a yawn. \\"Do you know the way? Could you show Mozelle, if I sent her with you?"\\

\\"Sure. She's smart. But are you gonna let her go out alone? I mean, without a grownup? Papa says she's real new. She might try to run away."\\ He whispered, \\"Don't tell her I said that. It might hurt her feelings. But I don't want her to run away. I like her."\\

\\"So do I. I don't think she'll run. And if she does..."\\ He ruffled the boy's hair. \\"I'll find her. All right?"\\

\\"All right."\\

Mozelle eased to her feet, stretching. Then she eyed him, and said, "I need to go to the kitchen to get the water for Gaius's wash up." Lupus gestured for her to pass. He was standing in the doorway. "There isn't room. Please let me by." Lupus crossed his arms, looking at her. "I know you understand me." He smiled. "You aren't going to move, are you?" No reply.

She sighed, examining the narrow space left to her. Finally she squeezed between him and the doorframe, facing him. She had to brush rather firmly against his side to do it. Just as she got between him and the doorframe he leaned on her. Gauis giggled. It was a good joke to him. Mozelle bit back a curse, and wiggled out, heading for the kitchen.

Once there she located the covered kettle that had been sitting in the ashes all night long, and opened it. The water she had placed inside had evaporated a little, but there was still enough for her purpose. She dipped up a basin, and carried it carefully back to the bedroom. Once there, she gave Lupus a warning stare, hoping that he'd interpret it as 'If you try that leaning crap again, you're going to be very wet.' He might have understood, but he stayed out of her way.

She quickly helped Gaius wash, sponging his little body as he held his hands over his head, humming absently. This didn't bother her, though it would in a couple of years. She hoped she was out of this situation by the time his hormones kicked in.

She slipped a fresh tunic over his head, ran a carved wooden comb through his dark hair, and shooed him out into the hall to go to breakfast. She started to pull her shirt over her head, so she could have a quick wash herself. Then she noticed that Lupus was standing in the doorway again. Instead she tossed the water out into the garden. He shrugged, and motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen.

Gaius was devouring a thick slice of honey smeared bread when they arrived. Mozelle located the pot of milk that had been delivered the night before, and sniffed it carefully. It didn't smell quite right to her. But then again, she'd been informed that it was goat, not cow milk, so what did she know? He'd spit it out if it was bad. She poured a mug and gave it to Gaius, who slurped down the strong smelling stuff. *Oh, gross. I'll get rickets before I drink that stuff.*

Lupus fixed another slice of bread like the one Gaius had, and handed it to her. All right, breakfast. You ate what you were given when you were a slave. *This isn't bad, but I'd give my back teeth for an Egg McMuffin and a side of hash browns. Why did he do that? This can't be usual, the master fixing the slave's breakfast.*

When they were finished eating, Lupus said, "You take Gaius to teacher."

"Me? Alone?"

He nodded. "Alone."

She looked at the younger boy doubtfully. She'd only been out of the household a couple of times since she'd arrived. Both times she'd been with Rentic, and on the end of a chain, carrying packages as he shopped. The idea of venturing out into such a large, and alien, city was a little daunting. "Well, this shouldn't be too bad. It never takes Rentic more than fifteen or twenty minutes to go and return. Sure."

"I show you." promised Gaius.

"You better, kid. I don't want to end up wandering around out there. The last time I wandered somewhere unfamiliar, I ended up with a permanent necklace." She touched her collar, grimacing.

Gaius led her through the just beginning to bustle streets. He was very careful to point out to her signs and landmarks she could use to find her way back to the house. 'Turn right at this fountain, turn left at this temple, the statue of this goddess faced the way you must return...'

They reached the tutor's house without incident and Mozelle turned to begin making her way back to the house.

\\"She's being given more responsibility,"\\ Somnus remarked. He looked up from where he'd been settling a sodden doze on a ragged man who'd finished his previous night's carousing just a few moments before.

Dischordia was glaring after the retreating woman, wearing her usual scowl. \\"Yes. That means that things are going entirely too smoothly for her."\\

Somnus sighed. \\"Oh Cordie, aren't you over that yet?"\\

\\"No. I can't let this sort of disrespect go unaccounted for. I'm a minor deity as it is. Mars gets all the attention. If I don't keep my hand in, then where will I be?"\\

\\"Don't do anything rash,"\\ he warned. \\"Remember, Vee is going to talk to Jupiter about her."\\

\\"Oh, I'm not going to touch her."\\ She grinned evilly. \\"Not personally, anyway."\\ She blinked out. Somnus sighed again. She really could be a vindictive bitch sometimes.

Dischordia winked into existence next to a rather modest statue of herself, and regarded it thoughtfully. \\"Not a bad representation, but I don't like the way it's arranged."\\ She waved her hand. There was a squealing and grating of stone, and the statue slowly made a quarter turn, ending up facing to the left of it's original orientation. Discordia grinned. \\"Yes. Much better."\\

She watched as the mortal woman approached the statue. In fact, the slave stoped only a couple of feet away from the Goddess of Mischief and Discord, unaware of the malicious eyes focused upon her. She looked in the direction the statue faced, doubt in her expression. Finally she shrugged, and went off in that direction. Dischordia followed close behind.

Mozelle's steps got slower and slower. This didn't look right. She seemed to be moving into a rather seedy section of town. Shops and stalls were giving way to inns and taverns, and... possibly other establishments, judging by the half clad woman she saw lounging in one doorway. No, this didn't look familiar at all. Perhaps she should retrace her steps?

Dischordia whispered. \\"But you took the right turning."\\

"I know I went the right direction, I checked the statue."

\\"Maybe it's just a little farther."\\

"I'll just try a couple more blocks." She kept walking, but finally stopped. "Oh, this does not look right. I wonder if there's somewhere I could ask for directions." She groaned. "If I could speak the language, that is."

As she was thinking this, the door to a nearby tavern opened and three men exited, two of them weaving. The unsteady ones wore the usual rough clothing she'd seen on the poorer citizens. The third, a tall young man with light hair, wore a fine linen tunic, covered by a rich woolen cloak. He also looked considerably cleaner than his companions, while they were stubbled and grubby. Probably a patrician, out slumming.

She was just thinking that it might be better to leave when one of the two drunks spotted her and crowed. \\"'Ey! A slave."\\

The light haired man turned his attention to her, and she felt a small, queasy flutter in her belly. The eyes were like chips of blue ice. He spoke softly. \\"So it is. But you didn't state the most important fact. Not just a slave. A woman."\\ And he smiled.

Part Eleven

Dischordia studied the young man with the blonde hair, greatly interested. Yes, she knew him. Celsus Malum. Well named. He'd been a bit of help to her more than once. He was regarding the slave closely. Dischordia smiled. *I don't think I'm going to have to put any ideas into his head. I believe there are plenty enough nasty thoughts running around up there without my help.*

Celsus was fresh from a night of carousing with two of his lower class friends. As he exited the tavern, he'd been thinking. *Lower class. Huh. Gutter, more like. They can be amusing, but last night was a bit of a wash out. Only two wenches in that rat hole: one of them with skin like bad cheese, and the other as thin as a skinned rabbit. Had a body like a twelve year old boy. Damnation, if that was what I wanted, I could find a twelve year old boy easy enough.* Then Balatro had interrupted his revery with his shout.

He'd looked, expecting to see some weary drudge. Any slave owned by someone in this district couldn't be worth much, they had to be on their last legs. He was surprised by what he saw.

The woman was clean, well fed, and looked healthy. She wasn't a wrinkled granny, but neither was she an underdeveloped slip of a girl. She was a full blown, well rounded woman. He looked closer. She was rather nice, actually.

Her hair wasn't gold, or red, as was most popular with the fashionable sort of slaves these days, but it was a rich, dark brown, and it curled. She had blue eyes, so possibly she was from one of the more barbaric northern territories. That would account for the outlandish dress. Imagine, trousers on a woman. Yes... imagine that.

Celsus smiled at the woman, and she shifted nervously. *Ah. She's not stupid. And she's not a whore, or she'd be smiling back. I know we look like good potential customers.* \\"Balatro, Bardus... Ease around her. Slowly and cautiously. Block off the exit."\\ They grinned, and sidled to either side. Celsus lifted his voice. \\"Woman, come here."\\

*Femina... proprinquo. That's... uh... woman, come here. Oh, hell no! What's that word Gaius uses when he doesn't want to do something Tessa tells him to? Nego.* "Nego!"

Celsus blinked. Reluctance wouldn't have surprised him, and outright refusal was unexpected, but interesting. \\"Do you understand me?"\\ He took a step toward her.

"Uh uh!" Mozelle backed up cautiously. She made a shooing motion at him. "Just go have a few more. Find a nice bar maid. Get in a fight, but leave me alone."

She was waving him away. Trying to order him. Oh, this was too delicious. And she did look nice and fresh, not hard used. Pretty, pale skin. He wondered if her nipples were pink, or brown? \\"I think perhaps you're a bit mad, slave, but that's all right."\\ He came closer.

"I am so out of here." She turned, and almost ran into one of the grinning drunks. *Oh, crap! How did he move that quiet, drunk as he is?* It didn't really matter how he had done it. The fact of the matter was that her exit was blocked. She couldn't go back the way she had come. And there was another of them blocking off the side street. The only way out of this little area was past the blonde guy. That was alarming.

*I wonder if screaming will do any good? I don't know the language, but a scream is a scream. Problem is, they might take it as a call to a show instead of a request for help around here.*

Her thoughts were interrupted when a rough hand grabbed her arm. She reacted without thinking, which was probably why it worked. Instead of pulling away, which was what Bardus had expected, he moved toward him, coming in close, putting a hand on his shoulder. He thought for a moment(with the stupid assurance of his own desirability that only the very drunk can achieve) that she was going to embrace him. Instead, she held him firmly, and lifted a knee into his crotch.

His hand dropped. He dropped. *Yep. Like my mama always said, lay one where it'll do the most good, and they won't be thinking about anything but pain.*

She heard a laugh behind her, but was too busy starting for the now open exit to look around. Unfortunately, the guy on the side wasn't as drunk as he'd appeared. He caught up with her easily, snagging the back of her shirt, then throwing his arms around her from behind.

Wishing for once in her life that she was wearing heels, Mozelle stamped down on his feet as hard as she could. Heels would have been better, but a sturdy athletic shoe seemed to work pretty well, if you're assailant was wearing sandals, anyway.

He howled, but he didn't let go, so she threw her head back as hard as she could. It connected with his face. It hurt--she'd probably have a knot, but there'd been a satisfying crunch of cartilage, and a yell. She'd broken his nose. He let go.

Unfortunately, as he did, a cloth settled over her head. The thick fabric enveloped her, fluttering down around her waist, and suddenly it was cinched tight around her by a pair of strong arms. She thrashed and kicked in the musty darkness, but couldn't struggle free. That was when she started screaming.

Celsus held the struggling, shrieking, cloak-wrapped woman with a little difficulty. \\"Dammit. Bardus, quit clutching your stones and come help me, before she gets away. Balatro, don't you have a room near here?"\\

The other man was clutching his nose, thick streams of blood dripping between his fingers. His voice was muffled. \\"I couldn't afford it any more."\\

\\"Damn."\\ Celsus looked around. \\"Ah, well, there's a stable over there. Plenty of good clean straw for a nice, soft tumble. Bardus, take her legs."\\

Bardus was upright, but he clutched his gonads again, eyeing the thrashing feet. \\"Let Balatro do it."//

Balatro was trying to wipe blood on an already filthy tunic. \\"I don't want to go near that crazy bitch unless she's tied up."\\

Celsus snapped. \\"We can do that in the stable, if that's your pleasure."\\ He smiled wickedly. \\"Actually, that is my pleasure, sometimes. But first we have to get her there. Come on. Whichever of you helps me get her there and hold her down can go second."\\

\\"You're not making plans for my slave, are you, Celsus?"\\

Celsus peered over the struggling, noisy bundle in his arms. The dark haired man glaring at him was familiar. \\"Lupus?"\\ Well, of course it was him. The same age, but two years behind him at the academy. Not slow, in any way, just kept back by a doting mother. If Celsus remembered correctly, Lupus was always willing to spoil whatever fun he was having with the laves, or the younger and weaker students at the academy. \\"This is yours?"\\

\\"She is."\\

\\"Man, what on earth are you doing letting her wander about down here?"\\

\\"She took my brother to his tutor. Let her go, Celsus."\\

\\"Oh, I'd really rather not. I took a bit of trouble getting hold of her. Bardus has a bruised sac, and Balatro will be even uglier than before with that mashed nose. She owes us."\\

\\"She owes you nothing. A slave is permitted to defend herself when her master hasn't given permission for her taking. She's defending my property. Now let her go."\\

\\"Oh, come on, Lupus. Don't be greedy. Let me borrow her for a quarter of an hour."\\

Lupus raised an eyebrow sardonically. \\"Not very ambitious, are you?"\\ Celsus scowled. \\"Let her go, or I'll report you to the guard."\\

Celsus sighed. \\"Oh, very well. Spoilsport."\\ He pulled the cloak off the woman's head, and quickly grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. He buried his face in the smooth spot where her neck flowed down into her shoulder and gave her a hard, biting kiss, then shoved her toward Lupus.

Instead of running to her protector as he had expected, she once again surprised him. She turned and leaped at him, scratching for his eyes. He only just managed to catch her hands and throw her back again. She stumbled, and her owner caught her. And held her as she tried to scramble back at him. \\"Now that was not self defense, Lupus. You need to get that hell cat under control, or she'll get you both in trouble."\\ He sighed. \\"What a pity. All that... energy."\\ He refastened his cloak, and strolled away, trailed by his limping, muttering accomplises.

Mozelle glared at Lupus, and tried to shake herself out of his arms. "I was doing okay."

She was surprised when he shook her violently. "Stupid!"

"What did I do?"

"Not here." Maintaining a hard grip on her arm, he started to drag her home.

Part Twelve

Dischordia followed along happily, watching as Lupus dragged the stumbling woman home. Actually, she was feeling a little mellower toward the slave. That had been a nice bit of chaos she'd participated in back near the tavern. A broken nose and some bruised testicles weren't a bad score for one woman against three men.

Still, she wasn't quite ready to forgive her, no matter how amusing that had been. And she was interested in seeing what Lupus had planned for her when he got her home. If he thought she'd been purposely trying to escape it could be pretty bad. The first offense could mean branding, depending on the discretion of the owner.

Lupus kept his grip on her arm, even when they entered the house. Rentic watched, confused, as his young master hauled the obviously distressed woman through the house to his own room. *Oh, dear. Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I just hope she isn't silly enough to fight him. He won't want to hurt her, but...*

Mozelle was getting more and more worried, especially when Lupus took her back into the family section of the house. She'd only been in there to help with the cleaning, and that one time to wait at table. Lupus brought her into one of the slumber rooms. She assumed it was his, as it hadn't been in use before he arrived.

He pushed her down into a chair, and glared at her. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why there?"

"Why was I there? I got lost." He snorted, looking skeptical. "I'm telling you I got lost. This isn't my home town, and I didn't have a map. I thought I knew where I was going, but I guess I should have taken a left turn at Alberquerqie." She trailed off, sighing. "Oh, never mind. I sure can't explain Bugs Bunny to you. Besides, you don't look like you have much of a sense of humor right now."

"You try to escape." His voice was flat.

"Where the hell would I go? I'm not stupid. I'm just ignorant."

"Mozelle," he leaned over her, and she slumped back in the chair, staring up at him. His voice was very serious. "Escape bad. Not legal." He paused. "Dangerous. Escaped slave captured, branded."

Her mouth dropped open. "But... but I didn't. I told you, I got lost."

He cocked his head, studying her. "Maybe."

"No maybe. I got lost! I was coming back. Heck, I was glad to see you. Speaking of which, why did you just happen to be there?"

"I follow."

"You..." She glared at him. "You thought I was going to run away, and you were following me. How rude. Well, couldn't you tell I'd lost my way? I dithered around enough."

He sighed. "All right. Lost. This time."

"Thank you." She stood up, and started for the door. "Can I go now?"

He caught her arm again. "No. Stay."

She stopped, ready for another lecture in broken English. "What?" Lupus smiled at her, and touched her hair. She read the look in his eyes and felt her stomach sink. She shook her head.

"Yes." He pulled her toward the bed.

"No, I can't. I don't want to." She tugged backward. The three men had been one thing. She'd known instinctively that she was expected to protect herself. But this... He was her owner's son. What would be the punishment for refusing him?

Dischordia made herself comfortable out of the way in a corner. This should be good.

"Mozelle, remember. No run."

"Look, it's broad daylight outside. I... I need to go help Tessa."

"Later." He pulled her hand down and pressed it to the front of his tunic. "Help me now."

There was a loud banging on the door, and Lupus scowled. \\"What is it?"\\

\\"Son?"\\ It was Lucius's voice. \\"I want you to come down to the docks with me. I'm to meet a Frankish merchant, and I could use you as a translator."\\

Lupus sighed regretfully. \\"All right, Father. I'll be right there."\\ He patted Mozelle's cheek. "Tonight you come here." Then he left.

Mozelle leaned against the wall, hugging herself, trying to still her shaking. Dischordia watched her with a frown. \\"You really have the most damnable good luck, woman."\\

A plump, motherly looking woman appeared next to Dischordia, tapping her foot. \\"Not through any agency of yours, Cordie, that's for sure."\\

Dischordia gave the other woman a disdainful look. \\"Vesta, was it you who got that old goat to interrupt Lupus's little tryst? Not very nice of you."\\

\\"Not nice of me? Cordie, I know darn good and well that you've been harassing that poor thing half mad, all because she took a nap on an alter you hadn't used in several dozen hundred years. Really, that's petty, even for you."\\

\\"It's my business, not yours."\\

\\"On the contrary. She's a virgin, and virgins fall into my domain, and you know it."\\

Dischordia smirked. \\"Well, she'll be moving out of your jurisdiction pretty soon, if I don't misjudge Lupus."\\

\\"Oh, really, Cordie! This is intolerable. When Vee told me about this, I really didn't want to believe it, but now... I'm going to add my petition to hers, and I'm having a talk with Diana AND Minerva."\\

\\"Go ahead, see if I care. Get the whole damn brood of hens down on me. I won't be told how to run my affairs, Vesta."\\ She disappeared with a snap.

Vesta sighed, watching as the woman gathered herself and went out of the room. \\"Oh, dear. I'm afraid I may have made things worse for you, child. All I wanted to do was help. I should have remembered how touchy Dischordia is. Say black, she'll say white. Say up, she'll say down. I scold about preserving your chastity, she's determined to see you debauched."\\

She followed the slave out to the kitchen. There she nodded approvingly at a bustling Malanda. The woman was a good housekeeper, paid proper attention to all things domestic.

\\"There you are, girl. I was wondering where you'd gotten to. Tessa wants you to..."\\ She trailed off, getting a look at Mozelle, who slumped disconsolately at the table. \\"Oh, dear. What now?"\\

Vesta spoke to her. \\"She's had a bit of a shock to her system. Get her some tea, dear."\\

Malanda brewed a cup of herbal tea, sweetening it with honey, and pressed it into Mozelle's hands. \\"Drink this. You look like you need it."\\

Vesta spoke to her again. \\"Your young master has frightened her. He doesn't mean to, but she's just not ready to deal with a man wanting her right now."\\

\\"It was Master Lupus, wasn't it? Dear, he doesn't mean you any harm."\\ She patted her arm, wishing that she spoke her language.

"Malanda, what am I gonna do? He... he's after me. It doesn't really scare me--not like that guy out in the street today. But..." She gulped some of the tea, and shuddered. "You're a good person, Malanda, but that is the nastiest stuff. Oh, well..."

"Mozelle?" Tessa beckoned her into the children's room. Beaming, she held out a dark blue garment. "Yours."

"Oh. Thank you, Tessa." She held it up. "Y'all may call it a tunic, I call it a dress. Tell you what. I'll save it for special occasions, huh? Um, I'll wear it when I wash these."

Tessa nodded and smiled. "Wear."

"Not now, okay?"

Tessa frowned. "Master Lupus say you wear."

"Well, he isn't here, is he? Later."

Tessa studied her, then poked her shirt, and pants. "Wash now."

"I just had them washed yesterday. Okay, technically, I just got wet in the pool, but..."

"Wash." She held out her hands expectantly.

"Well, damn." But Tessa was senior. Mozelle stripped off the shirt and pants, and handed them over. She flatly refused to part with any item of underwear. "Not on your nellie. I might catch a stiff breeze in that thing. I don't want to end up giving a Gauis the sort of education his mama and daddy don't want." That was an excuse, of course. She wanted one more barrier.

The dress was actually no more immodest than anything she'd seen in her own time. It would have been considered quite conservative, actually. But she hadn't worn a dress that came above her knees since grade school, and she felt exposed. Especially since there was no hose or tights involved. She was bare legged. And she figured she had to look pretty funny, walking around in the tunic and her athletic shoes.

She had to serve again at supper, but it was going to be a simpler meal, so she figured she could get out more quickly. The first course was a soup, so at least she didn't have to worry about being expected to feed that to anyone, she thought. She carried the tureen for Rentic, while he ladled some for each of the family into small, cup like bowls, from which they sipped it.

Lady Dramilla watched her with surprise as they made their way around the table. \\"What on earth is that girl wearing?"\\

Mozelle didn't know the language, but she sensed the meaning. "Don't blame me. I didn't pick it out."

\\"I had Tessa make up some garments for her, Mother."\\ Lupus said. \\" We really couldn't leave her wandering about in those that she had."\\

\\"I suppose not. But that... It's terribly brief, son. She... she looks like a girl in a brothel."\\

Lucius eyed his wife. \\"And how, my dear, would you know what one of those look like? I think she looks quite nice. Oh, if we have some of the stuffier patricians over, I suppose we'll have to get her something a bit more sober. But I see no reason why we can't have that."\\

Next there was beef that had been roasted till it was falling into tender chunks. Again Mozelle held the platter, while Rentic served. While she stood beside Lupus's place, she felt a hand come to rest on the back of her knee. The platter trembled a little in her hands, but she steadied it. The hand began a slow slide up the back of her leg, under the hem of the garment.

Lady Dramilla said quietly, \\"Lupus."\\ There was a sigh, a light pinch, and the hand was withdrawn. After the slaves left, Lady Dramilla said, \\" Look, son, I know that you're young, and your blood runs high. Your father isn't the only one who understands that. But please, I don't want to end up with that one getting pregnant. Having children by a slave is awkward, to say the least."\\

\\"She won't, Mother."\\ He reclined on the sofa, thinking about the coming night. *I know how to avoid it.*

Part Thirteen

It was almost bed time, and she was tempted to go hide out in the garden, but Tessa would be sure to have something to say about that. Her place wass on the floor, across the entry.

She avoided it as long as she could, offering to play just one more game with Gaius, tell him one more story. He was a fresh audience for all the nursery rhymes and fairy tales she'd accumulated through her life, and he never got tired of them. Tessa did, though. Finally she shoved Mozelle's pallet into her arms and tucked Gaius into his bed, blowing out the lamp and crawling into her own bed.

Mozelle stood there for a moment, then spread out the pallet in it's usual place, and lay down, pulling up the thin, coarse blanket. But she didn't sleep. She lay awake and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for something that she hoped wouldn't happen.

The household was very quiet. She could see a little of the kitchen. The coals in the fireplace illuminated it dimly. But just as she begin to think that it might be safe to drift off to sleep, she heard the scrape of a foot in the hall. There were stealthy, but distinct footfalls, and a shadowy figure appeared on the other side of the kitchen, and paused. She closed her eyes, not wanting to notice him. She would treat this like she have so many other problems in her life: by ignoring it, and hoping it would go away.

But this was a persistant problem. There was a soft hiss. She stayed very still, and it came again. Then there was a sigh, and Lupus called quietly, "Mozelle."

She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. *I'm asleep, leave me alone.*

There were a few more footsteps, and the voice was a little louder, "Mozelle!" She pulled the blanket over her head. There was something in Latin that she was fairly sure was a curse.

The blanket was twitched down, and she opened her eyes to find Lupus bending over her. He crooked his finger. "Come." she shook her head, and he frowned. "Slave, come."

*God, I hate being reminded!* She stared up at him and said, "No."

That surprised him. Slaves didn't usually dare outright refusal. He took hold of her arms to pull her up, but she made herself a dead weight, offering no help at all. It isn't easy to move someone when they are completely inert. *I guess this is what is known as 'passive resistance'. It's only effective because he's trying not to wake up the others.*

After a moment, he abandoned his attempt and just looked at her, clearly puzzled. Then a sly look came into his eyes. Before she realized what he intended, he got down on the floor and crawled over her.

He'd pressed against her in the bathing pool, but having a man lie on top of her was a completely different experience. Talk about feeling trapped.

*What in God's name is he thinking of? There are other people in the room. What if one of them wakes up?* Apparently he thought of this, because he held one finger to his lips in a shushing motion, smiling at her, and pushed his crotch against hers.

She silently tried to throw him off, but he held on tightly. They began a very quiet struggle, there on the floor. Neither of them made a sound. Mozelle could hear Tessa snoring on the other side of the room. It was surreal. *I'm about to be raped, only feet away from someone else.*

He slowly worked her shift up over her hips, and seemed surprised to find her panties. In fact, he paused for a minute, pulling back a little while he held her down and examined them. Then he shrugged and started ripping them. "Dammit!" she hissed. "Stop that!"

Another shrug, but he stopped. "Off."

"No!" He started tearing again. *Thank God for tough nylon, or I'd be naked below the waist by now.*

//"Lupus?"//

The voice was puzzled and sleepy, and the man on top of Mozelle froze. Gaius was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and smiled sleepily. \\"Did you get lonely, too? Mozelle is good to sleep with when you're lonely."\\

As he got out of bed, Lupus quickly pulled down the woman's tunic, covering her decently, and rolled off. \\"Yes, Gaius, I got lonely. Why are you up? You should go back to bed."\\

Mozelle held out her arms to the child. "There's enough room for you." Lupus glared at her, but the little boy happily snuggled down beside her.

For a moment Lupus lay on his stomach beside Mozelle and the boy, chin propped on crossed arms, staring at them. She stroked Gaius's hair, staring back. At last he murmured, \\"Gaius, she's a clever girl, our Mozelle, isn't she?"\\

\\"Yes, she tells the most wonderful stories about bears and pigs and goats and witches and... oh, all kinds of things."\\

\\"That wasn't exactly what I meant, but I'm sure it's true. I'm glad you have a companion to keep you amused, little brother. Problem is, your big brother needs a companion to keep him amused, too."\\

\\"Ask Mozelle. She's lots of fun."\\

\\"Mm. I'm trying. I'm not having much success, though."\\ He reached over and touched her face. \\"Funny thing. Why are you so afraid of me? I suppose I ought to give up on you. I don't like the idea of rape. Much."\\ He sighed, and got to his feet. \\"I'll go back to my own room, Gaius. See you in the morning."\\

None of them noticed the beautiful woman and young man standing in the corner, both of them shaking their heads. Venus turned to Cupid. \\"You see, son? It's such a mess. Two perfectly nice people who should be having wild sex, and nothing. I'm at my wits end."\\

Cupid scratched his chin. \\"Well, Mother, I think the question here is whether it should be just sex, or love."\\

She frowned. \\"What do you mean, just sex?"\\

He sighed. \\"Oh, now please. You know I didn't mean any disrespect. But this is a complicated situation. I mean, she's a virgin, right?"\\ Venus nodded. \\"Well, I personally think that all virgins should be in love the first time they 'do it'. Call me a romantic, that's just the way it is. And it would be nothing to slap her with an arrow. Heck, she'd only really need a dart. She's fascinated by him to begin with. If she'd met him on the street in her own time, there'd be no problem. And it wouldn't take much of anything with him, either. He's ready to fall in love, and he already has a bit of an obsession about her. But..."\\

\\"But what?"\\

\\"Would it be fair to both of them? We have no idea what her final disposition will be. I take it that you haven't been able to get through to grandad, or you wouldn't have called me in."\\

\\"Just flat can't get ahold of him."\\

\\"It would be rather cruel to make them fall in love if she were going to be whisked back to her own age any time soon."\\

\\"I see your point, but this is going to come to a head soon. He's a randy young man. He won't be able to wait much longer. And, though he's basically a decent sort, well... He has had that master/slave concept drilled into him since birth. He really wouldn't see much wrong with forcing himself on her, if she keeps resisting. I'm afraid if that happens, it'll be too late for them. You're potent, son, but mortal pain can go pretty deep."\\

\\"Tell you what, Mom. I'll monitor the situation. If it's moving toward crisis, I'll step in. How's that?"\\

She patted his cheek affectionately. \\"You're a good boy."\\

Lupus tried to put Mozelle out of his mind. He even considered visiting a whore house the next day. But he found himself standing outside the establishment, looking at the woman lounging in the doorway. Her face was plastered with the thick, white makeup and vivid rouge favored by the prostitutes of this era, and it just looked distasteful. He kept thinking about Mozelle's fresh, creamy complexion. The whore's hair was brassy gold, and it curled, too. But the curls were stiff, lacquered into place with scented pomade. His family's slave's hair was soft and silky.

He finally turned away. That afternoon he wasn't really thinking about it, but he found himself in an apothecary shop. It was a clean, but dim place. The walls were lined with shelves filled with boxes and jars. The place smelled of herbs and must.

The apothecary himself, a small, thin man, bustled to him, rubbing his hands. \\"And what can I do for you, young Master, on this fine day?"\\ His eyes twinkled. \\"Something to help you win the affection of a lady?"\\

Lupus blinked in surprise. \\"I thought those didn't work?"\\

\\"Truth to tell, nothing material is sure. You must rely on the gods for that. But nature can sometimes give a little push."\\

\\"How did you know... I mean, what makes you think I'd be interested in that sort of thing?"\\

His eyes glittered merrily. \\"You're young, and a man, that's why. Also, it's spring. Even the old goats get frisky in the spring."\\

\\"Well, I wasn't exactly interested in a stimulant. Though I suppose it wouldn't hurt. No, what I really need is... You see, she's part of my household, and my mother doesn't want..."\\

He waved. \\"Say no more. Yes, bastards can be awkward. I have just what you need."\\He studied the shelves for a moment, then took down a squat jar. Opening it, he showed the contents to Lupus. \\"These are the seeds of the wild carrot. Their benefits are many. Including blocking conception. And..."\\ He elbowed Lupus conspiratorilly. \\"They're also an aphrodisiac. Very convenient, wouldn't you say? Easy to administer, she doesn't even have to know what she's getting. Just steep a spoonful of these in boiling water for a few minutes, and serve it as a tea. And it's reasonably priced, too."\\

\\"I'll have some of that."\\

\\"How big a supply? She'll need to take it at least three times a day, before and after, for it to be effective."\\

\\"Um... a month's?"\\

\\"Fine."\\ He began weighing out the seeds. He handed over the small sack, and Lupus paid him. \\"Hang on just a minute, son."\\ He went into the back room, and returned with a small package, pressing it into Lupus hand. \\"I just got these in. They're sheaths made of fish skin. Yes, yes, I know it sounds a bit nasty, but they're well cleaned, and perfumed. You wear one on your member when you top the girl, and it catches your seed. A bit of extra precaution. Just grease yourself a bit to slip it on, then after it's on, if you want to be considerate of the girl. Oh, and only use them once, mind. They're delicate, and can't stand to be washed. No charge this time, because I like you. If you like them, you can buy more later."\\

Lupus looked at the package, impressed. \\"Aren't modern inventions wonderful? Thank you."\\ He said sincerely.

\\"Not at all. Just keep me in mind for all your apothecary needs. I'd much rather see a young man like you at home with a decent, clean slave rather than risking the pox with the city whores."\\

Part Fourteen

Malanda looked up from the bacon she was slicing as Lupus entered the kitchen. //"Good afternoon, young Master."// She noticed the small sack he was carrying. //"What's that? Have you brought some delicacy you wish me to prepare?"//

//"Not exactly, Malanda. Have you got a jar or box free?//

//"Let me see..."// She wiped her hands, studying the shelves. She plucked a small, lidded jar off the shelf and opened it. //"Yes, I thought I'd used all the cloves. Will this do?"//

//"It should serve nicely.// She watched, curious, as he poured small, dark seeds into the jar. //"Do you have any water on the boil?"//

//"Not yet, but it should only take a moment."// She moved the pot of water over the hottest part of the fire. Almost immediately it started to steam. //"What is it, Lupus? A new type of tea?"//

//"Yes."// He found a small jug and spooned some of the seeds into it. That done, he put the lid back on the jar and placed it on the shelf. Tapping it, he said, //"But it's rather special. It's for Mozelle, only. I want her to take a cup of this three times a day, without fail. Don't let her talk her way out of it, either."//

Malanda frowned in concern. //"Is it medicine? Is the girl sick? She seems healthy enough."//

The water was boiling, and Lupus used a ladle to pour water over the seeds. He set a plate over the jug to keep the steam in. //"No, it's not medicine... exactly." He looked at her consideringly, and said, //"Mother doesn't want her getting with child any time soon."//

//"Oh."// Malanda picked up the knife and again began slicing bacon. //"I'll use this to season the spinach tonight. Rentic found some with a good bit of lean in it, not too salty."//

Lupus sat at the table. //"You don't approve."//

She didn't look at him, but shrugged. //"It's not my place to approve, or disapprove."//

Lupus shook his head. //"I know, I know. A good slave has no opinions when it comes to her master. Absolute rubbish."//

Malanda began to mince the bacon. She said slowly, //"She... she's young for her age, Master Lupus."//

//"Malanda, she's not much younger than you."//

//"I said she's young for her age. Master Lupus, I'm pretty sure she's never been with a man."//

He smiled. //"Come now, Malanda. She's a slave."//

//"And this is her first household. She hadn't been slave more than an hour or two before she came to us. You've seen how modest she is."// She sighed. //"I think what I'm trying to say is that it might just be a bit of fun to you, but it will mean a good bit more to her."//

Lupus checked the jug, and poured the liquid off into a mug. He sniffed it, made a face, and stirred honey into it. //"Where is she?"//

//"In the children's room."//

"Mozelle!" he called. He looked at Malanda. //"Don't worry, Malanda. I'll be good to her."//

As the woman came into the kitchen, Malanda thought *I know you mean to, Lupus, but you're a man. I doubt if you can understand.*

He offered the mug to the woman. She eyed it. "No, thank you." He lifted it to her again. "I'm not thirsty."

"Drink. Medicine."

"I'm not sick."

He sighed. "Stubborn." He went to her and held the cup up to her lips. She kept her mouth firmly closed. He put his free hand into her hair and took a firm, but not violent grip. "Drink. I command."

"I don't believe this." She reached for the cup, but he didn't turn it loose. Instead she ended up sipping from the cup as he tilted it to her mouth.

When the cup was empty, he patted her cheek. "Good?"

"Tolerable, and totally unnecessary. I told you I wasn't thirsty."

"Good for you." He pointed out the jar on the shelf, and held up three fingers. "Each day, three times. Malanda make for you."

"What? The only thing I've ever wanted to drink three times a day was Diet Coke."

His voice was firm. "Three times, each day."

"Oh, for heaven's... All right." Still muttering to herself she went back into the children's bedroom, casting a suspicious look back at him. *He's up to something, I know he is. But tea?*

He watched her go, with a small smile. //"Tomorrow."//

*

Later Mozelle sat staring at the third cup of tea for the day. Actually, it wasn't bad, though she'd always preferred plain Lipton to herbal. She offered to let Malanda have some, but the older woman just shook her head. "Yours. Lupus buy for you."

"Malanda, that doesn't make any sense. I'm a slave, why would the son of the family be buying something special for a slave? I mean, if I was sick, and he was buying medicine to protect the family investment, I could see it, but otherwise..." She shrugged.

Malanda couldn't understand everything she said, but by now she could get a general idea of what the girl meant. Malanda wondered if she should say anything to her. Master Lupus hadn't forbidden her to speak of it.

The housekeeper indicated the jar and said, "Medicine, yes."

"But I'm not sick."

"Not for sick." Malanda bit her lip, then patted the girl's stomach. "No baby."

The woman's forehead wrinkled. "No baby? Of course not. I'm not pregnant. I never even..." Her expression went slack. "Oh, no. I... Do you mean that's a contraceptive?"

"You drink, baby no come. Safe."

The woman's voice was shrill. "Safe? Safe? I think that crap will make me FAR from safe."

Lupus came into the kitchen, noting the full cup. "Three?"

She stared at him. "Last." She tossed the contents of the cup into the fire. She watched as his expression stiffened.

Without a word he prepared another cup of tea. They stared at each other in silence as it steeped. Malanda hovered out of the way, nervously looking between the two. When it was done he placed the cup on the table before her. "Drink." She picked up the cup, then tossed the tea into the fire again. Lupus studied her, then said quietly, //"Malanda, leave the room."//

//"Master Lupus..."//

//"I'm not going to hurt her, but we have to have this out. Now go."// Malanda left the room, and Lupus started another cup of tea. //"I wonder if you have any idea how unusual this is--a master waiting on his slave? I wonder if I'm crazy to do this, instead of just beating you into obedience?"//

He left the tea to steep by the fire, and went to stand over Mozelle where she sat at the table. Folding his arms he looked down at her and said quietly, "Why?"

"Why won't I drink it? You know why."

He cocked his head. "You want baby?"

Her face flushed. "I won't have to worry about having one if you'll just leave me alone."

"Mozelle." He touched his chest. "Man." Then he touched her throat. "Woman." He slid his fingers back up into her hair. His voice was soft. "Want you."

She sat very still, feeling her heart begin to thump. Her voice was cracked. "I... don't want you."

He smiled slowly. "No?" He cupped her face in his hands.

Mozelle closed her eyes, unable to look at him when he was so close, when he had that knowing tone in his voice. His hands were large, smooth, and warm. "No, I don't. I... Why won't you leave me alone? Aren't there enough women out there?"

She felt the warm brush of his breath against her face. "Want you, Mozelle."

He let go. When she opened her eyes again he was holding out the third cup of tea. "Drink."

She bit her lip, and whispered, "Please."

As he had done earlier in the day he held the cup up to her mouth. "Drink, Mozelle." Resigned, she drank the tea. Pleased, he stroked her hair. "Good. No worry." He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You see." He left.

Mozelle slumped, crossing her arms on the table and resting her burning face against them. *I don't believe this, I really don't. Where the hell were you when I was in high school, watching everyone else go out on dates? Oh, wait, I know... You'd been dead for over a thousand years. If I sleep with him, will it technically be necrophilia?*

She sat up, sighing. *Why am I so worried? He's gorgeous, he's randy--the answer to a maiden's prayer. Well, if the maiden was a bit sluttish. I'm in a culture where having sex with him wouldn't really be looked down on, it would be expected. It isn't like someone would embroider a scarlet letter on my toga. God, but I've waited this long. I always thought that when I did it I'd at least be going steady.*

Malanda peeked into the room. Mozelle said, "It's safe, you can come back in." The older woman entered, watching her closely. "He didn't hit me, or anything." Her face crumpled. "I caved, dammit."

Malanda came and sat with her, patting her hand comfortingly. She was obviously thinking very hard, trying to put what she wanted to say into words that the girl would understand. "Mozelle... Lupus good man. Not hurt."

Mozelle rubbed her face tiredly. "Sure, he's grand. Not hurt, just use. I just... Malanda, I haven't had a lot of control in my life. My body was the one thing I had total say in. No body told me how to dress, what to eat... I said whether or not anyone was going to touch it. Then I land here. Now I'm a slave. The last thing I had clear title to is taken away. Why is everyone so surprised that I'm not happy with the situation? And why am I ranting like this when you can understand maybe one out of ten words I say?"

Mozelle stood up, gripping Malanda's shoulder. "Thanks, you're trying. I just need to try to wrap my mind around this. It looks like I'm going to get de-virginized, whether I plan on it or not, and I need to decide just how I'm going to react to this." She was muttering to herself as she left the room. "Okay, no screaming--it would scare the kids. No crying, either, if I can help it. I read about one woman who peed to turn the guy off, but my bladder gets shy when I'm around other people, and besides, that's gross..."

*

Mozelle was a little surprised, but very relieved, when Lupus didn't try to order or lure her away from her pallet that night. She slept fitfully, though, half expecting to feel a touch sometime during the night. When morning came she wondered if she dared hope that he had changed his mind.

It was a little crazy. That night Lady Dramilla and her husband were having a celebration to officially welcome Lupus to manhood. A few extra slaves had been brought in from the country estate, and Mozelle spent most of her time keeping Gaius amused so that he wouldn't be underfoot in the kitchen, begging for tastes. She was relieved to find out that she was off bath duty, as father and son had taken a trip to the public baths together, and the lady of the house had a maid to attend her.

Still, when it was time for the dinner party, she didn't manage to hide in the children's room, as she had hoped. Rentic sought her out, bullying her into a fress tunic, and informed her that each guest was to have their own slave to attend them at the banquet, so she was needed. The children were fed and bedded down early that evening.

The spacious room at the front of the house had been prepared. Sofas and divans had been arranged in a square, each with its own low table before it. She stood against the wall next to the hall door, waiting with several other slaves as the guests began to arrive. Since she still couldn't speak Latin well enough to converse with anyone who wasn't very patient, she spent her time watching the greetings.

Rentic admitted each guest, and led them to the couch where Lucius and Dramilla waited, Lupus standing beside them. After they were presented, there was a few polite words passed, then Lups would show them to a seat. There were several young men, who were friends of the guest of honor, judging from the easy way Lupus spoke and laughed with them. Mostly, though, there were older couples--Lucius and Dramilla's friends, she supposed.

Mozelle stiffened when she recognized one man--a stocky man with grey hair and shrewd eyes--Tinactus.

Tinactus bowed low in greeting. //"Lucius, Lady Dramilla, Master Lupus. My humble thanks for this gracious invitation."

The two elders inclined their head graciously. //"You are most welcome, Tinactus."// said Lucius. //"We thank you for helping us celebrate this auspicious occasion."//

Tinactus's eyes had been roving the room. //"I see you still have the slave I sold you, Lady Dramilla. How does she?"//

//"Quite well. She performs her duties admirably, especially for one so untrained. We have all become quite fond of her.//

Tinactus studied Lupus. The young man gave him a hard stare when he noticed the older man eyeing the woman who stood among the other slaves, shifting nervously. //"Indeed. I cannot say I am surprised."//

Lupus led the older man to a seat and went back to his parents with barely a murmur of conversation. Leaning close to his parents he said quietly, //"Father, why did you invite him?"//

Lucius frowned. //"Surely you're not a snob, son? Just because he's in trade. We are ourselves, you know."//

//"It isn't that."//

//"Don't try to tell me it's because he's a slaver. We own a good number of slaves."//

//"It's not that, either. It's the way he conducts his business. I've seen some of the slaves who come from him. Many of them take weeks to recover from his custodianship."//

Lucius looked uncomfortable. //"His methods are harsh,"// he conceeded. //"But he is not here strictly on a social level.//

Before Lupus could reply, Rentic began to lead a trio of people to them, and Lupus's face went stiff. Lucius followed his gaze and said quietly, //"Lupus, don't cause a scene. You have a duty as a host. I know you don't like Celus, but his father is a business associate, and his mother is your mother's friend. You don't have to be loving--just be civil."//

//"I will try.//

Greetings were exchanged. Graccus Malum, Celsus's father said heartily, //"Lupus, you and my boy were schoolmates at the acadamy."//

//"In a way, sir. We took no classes together, as we were some time apart, but we knew of each other."//

Celsus's smile was cold. //"Our paths have crossed a time or two."// Lupus led the family to seats. Celsus, the last to sit on a small couch of his own, said, //"So... are you keeping a tighter leash on her, Lupus?"//

The Malum family had been the last to arrive. Slaves began to carry in food, filling the tables before the guests. Lupus took his own seat on a sofa across from his parents--the place of honor. He was a little disgusted to realize that he had Tinactus on one side and Celsus on the other. He should have paid more attention to the seating. Lupus scowled at Celsus and said, //"Do not concern yourself about Mozelle, Celsus. You have no business with her."//

Following the example of the other slaves, Mozelle brought a jug of snow chilled wine to Lupus's table, poured some into a goblet, and presented it to him. Celsus, taking a goblet from his own slave, otherwise ignoring the man, stared at her. She stood at Lupus's elbow like a well trained slave, waiting to see what he would need. That tunic was almost scandalously short. He'd already seen a few of the matrons, his mother included, eyeing it in surprise. There'd be talk about it later.

He smiled into his cup, thinking, //"I may have no business with her, but I think that some time I will have pleasure with her."//

Part Fifteen

*Oh, crap, it's that jerk from when I got lost! And he's leering.* Mozelle tried to ignore Celsus, but it wasn't easy. She could feel her skin crawling. *Funny, if someone back in my time had leered at me like that in the middle of a room full of people, it wouldn't have bothered me much. I'd have known that if he tried anything I could have the law down on his ass, but here... Oh, crap. Surely this isn't going to turn into one of those Roman orgies I read about? No, I don't think so. This family strikes me as too conservative. Thank heavens. I sure don't want to end up as a party favor.*

The one relief was that she wasn't required to hand-feed Lupus, aside from some grapes. The bad part was that she had to remove the seeds, just as he had for her. Both Celsus and Lupus found the faces she made when Lupus spit the seeds into her hand very amusing. They also earned her disapproving looks from the other slaves. *What's up with them? Pride of profession?*

When the food was cleared away, Mozelle thought that she might be dismissed, but no such luck. Rentic shooed her away from the door when she tried to leave, pointing sternly back to her assigned spot. "Mozelle! You stay, job not done."

"Yeah, he may need me to help him blow his nose," she grumbled quietly, but she resumed her station.

Lucius stood up, and the murmur of conversation stilled as the guests politely gave him their attention. //"My friends, we thank you for coming here tonight to help us celebrate the ascent into manhood of my beloved son--Lupus."//

There was polite applause. //"This is a long overdue celebration, as you all know. I'm afraid our fondness caused us to hold him back. We want to make it up to him now."// He looked at Tinactus, who knodded to the slave who had been attending him. The man left the room, heading toward the back of the house. //"A gift is customary on an occasion such as this, and we wish to give him a significant one--something a bit more substantial than we would have."//

The slave re-entered the room, leading a half dozen others. Without direction the six men and women stepped into the center of the table arrangement. Tinactus gestured to Lupus, and they ranged themselves before him. //"Son, we are giving you your first slave. Choose whichever you wish."//

There was applause, the guests nodding approval at the parent's generosity. Tinactus got up and went to the group, beginning to point out their various merits. He tapped a slender youth with pale skin and flaming red hair, saying, \\"Paulus is from Gaul. He's young, so you'll get long use from him. He has some training. He's still a little rough, but he has other assets."\\ He patted the boy's rump, then moved to the next one.

\\"Gella is a Nubian. Very exotic, yes? Lovely skin, excellent teeth. Young and healthy, you could breed a good number of little slaves with her."\\ Next there was a middle-aged man. \\"Tobias is a bit older, but he's very experienced as a body slave. He can keep your life well ordered."\\

The next slave was a handsome middle-aged woman. \\"Cassia is an excellent housekeeper. She can cook and care for children."\\ Tinactus indicated a huge man, all lean muscle. \\"Den is a former gladiator. Yes, I know they usually retire by dying in the arena, but his owner was kind. He can no longer fight the gladiatoral level due to an injury, but he would make a most proficient bodyguard. And finally, one of my most prized items, Galeana."\\ The woman was in her mid-twenties, voluptuous, and with long, shining gold hair. She smiled at Lupus and licked her lips. Tinactus laughed. \\"I think her qualifications are fairly obvious."\\ There was general laughter.

Mozelle cast her eyes up toward the ceiling. *Thank you, thank you, thank you!! This should do it. I ought to have a little peace now.*

Dischordia popped into existence beside Tinactus. //"You know, old boy, you and your kind do a lot of good work for me. I still don't like you much, though."//

Since she hadn't willed it, no one saw or heard her--except for the handsome blonde man who popped into being beside Mozelle. //"Cordie, haven't you caused enough trouble? What are you doing here?"//

//"No, I haven't, and I should be asking you that. This is none of your business."//

Cupid growled. //"Mom and I both disagree. You know, Cordie, if you keep going at this rate you'll have pissed off all the gods and goddesses."//

//"Like I care. Now, quit bothering me. I have to decide what will make the biggest mess."//

//"No, you don't. You just keep out of this."//

She sneered. //"Oh, well, since you asked so nicely."//

Cupid's eyes narrowed. //"Try anything, and you'll find yourself deeply in love with the grossest mortal I can find."// Dischordia grimmaced, obivously considering whether or not he'd carry through on his threat. Not even the gods themselves were able to resist Cupid's arrows, though the effects did wear off on the gods--eventually. //"I'm not bluffing, Cordie. I'll have you hand washing the dirty drawers of some sewer cleaner."//

Dischordia scowled. //"Fine. I suppose I've laid enough groundwork for there to be sufficient distress. I'm going to go let a rat loose in the kitche. That should give their cook a fit."// She popped out. A minute later there was a crash from the kitchen, followed by Malanda's shrieks. Rentic hurried back to see what was upsetting his lover.

*Gella or Galeana, Gella or Galeana, Gella or Galeana. Please, please, please,* Mozelle thought. *If he gets either of them he should be too pre-occupied to mess with me.*

Cupid came up behind her. He could hear her thoughts--there was very little mortals could hide from the guards. //"What are you so worried about, little woman? You're attracted to him--that's something you can't hide from me. What on earth have your people done to sex and love in your age?"//

Lupus smiled at his parents. //"Mother, Father--this is indeed generous."

Dramilla spoke up. //"Now Lupus, if none of these are to your taste, you needn't choose right now. We can visit Tinactus's place of business tomorrow, or wait for an auction. We want you to have what you want."//

//"Thank you."// Lupus sat forward on his sofa, studying the slaves arrayed before him. //"This is a nice selection."//

Celsus drawled, //"The question is will you get someone useful for household chores, or..."// he pointed at Galeana //"will you be practical?"// There was general laughter. The more conservative Romans didn't openly discuss it, but it was generally accepted that the young men of the household took their pleasure with the household's female slaves.

Lupus considered the slaves. He dismissed the idea of Tobias or Cassia immediately--Rentic and Malanda filled those roles in the household very ably. Paulus looked pleasant enough, but Lupus had no desire for a slave younger than himself. Paulus wasn't all that much older than Gaius, and the idea made him uncomfortable. He didn't really think he needed a bodyguard, and there wasn't enough heavy work to justify someone as massive as Den. That left Gella and Galeana. He beconed the two women closer, and began shifting his attention between them.

Cupid sighed. //"Oh, boy, you don't really want either of them.// Lupus frowned slightly. //Galeana is a slut who will do her damndest to seduce your father, because she thinks it will better her lot.// The blonde woman gave Lupus a heated smile, but he noticed her eyes flickering to the other men in the room. //Gella is a nice enough girl, but she prefers women. Neither one of you would really enjoy the relationship.// When Lupus looked at Gella, the woman glanced at Tinactus, then gave her potential owner a half-hearted smile. //"You have what you need right here. The problem is convincing her it's right at all, and convincing you that she isn't just a convenience."//

Cupid whispered to Mozelle. //"You want to see this more clearly. You ought to move closer to him."// She shifted closer to the sofa.

Galeana noticed this, and a petulant look came into her eyes. She decided that the curly haired slave in the scandalous tunic must be the young master's current bedwarmer, and was worried about losing her favored position. Galena threw her bosum out a little farther.

Cupid spoke to Lupus. //"What's that lovely smell? Mm, soap and... Well, it's hard to say, isn't it? Just glance sideways, boy, and you'll see."// Lupus cut his eyes quickly to the side. //"Yes, it's her. She has her own scent, doesn't she? Look how white her skin is."//

*She's not interested in me.* Lupus turned his attention back to the other two women. *These two, at least, know their place, and what's expected of them.*

Cupid shook his head. //"I never took you for lazy, Lupus. Mozelle..."// He laid one hand gently on the woman's forehead, and her eyes became slightly unfocused. //"He's going to choose one of them, you won't have to worry about him bothering you again. It's a shame you hadn't met someone like him in your own world, isn't it? Now he'll ignore you--you'll be just the nursemaid. Before that happens, wouldn't you like to touch him just once more? He's pre-occupied, he won't even notice."//

Her eyes downcast, her hand stole out and came to rest lightly at the small of Lupus's back.

Lupus went very still. There was only one person that touch could come from, but she'd been so reluctant to make contact before. He had a sudden memory, so intense that it was almost like experiencing it over again. Oddly enough, it wasn't about sex. He could have understood remembering the warm, wet thrashing in the pool. No, what he remembered was the moment in the kitchen when she told him that she didn't want him. The softness of her hair, the warmth of her skin under his palm as he stroked her cheek, and the way her voice had cracked. *The lack of conviction...*

He took a breath. //"They're all fine slaves. But Mother, do you really mean that I can have whichever slave I want?"//

She smiled. //"Well, don't get too greedy, son. Keep it in this general price range."//

He laughed. //"I don't intend to bankrupt the family, Mother. In fact, I want to save you money."// He reached back and took hold of Mozelle's hand, pulling her forward. //"This is the one I want."//

The guests exchanged looks. Surely that was a family slave? Didn't Lupus already have access to her?

His father's forehead crinkled. //"But son, surely you know that you... There's no reason to... You can have another one."//

His mother's voice was almost annoyed. //"Lupus, not the nursemaid!"//

//"If you're worried about losing a caregiver for Gaius and Patenic, why not give me Mozelle and buy Cassia to replace her? She can help Tessa and Malanda."//

//"But Lupus..."//

//"Dramilla,"// said Lucius, //"we did tell him he could have what he wanted. It won't cost us any more money to replace the nursemaid than it would to buy Lupus another slave."//

She sighed. //"Oh, all right. We'll sign her over to you tomorrow, Lupus. Tinactus, we'll have the woman, then. Can she stay over and start tonight?"//

Tinactus bowed. //"Certainly, my lady."// He looked at Mozelle, who returned a defiant glare. //"An interesting choice, young Lupus. If you require any help with her training, I'd be happy to help."// He smiled wolfishly. //"No charge."//

The other slaves were herded back to the kitchen again, and one of the guest's slaves played the lyre for them. Lupus pulled Mozelle down to sit beside him, putting an arm around her. She sat stiffly at first, but he didn't caress her as he had at the family dinner, so she relaxed a little.

Celsus watched them, then spoke to Lupus. //"So, Lupus, she wasn't really yours when you spoiled my fun the other day?"//

Lupus gave him a flat look. //"She was of my household, Celsus."//

//"Mm."// Celsus looked up as his slave poured more wine in his goblet. She was a slender girl with large grey eyes and nut-brown hair. He nodded his head at her. //"Do you like Tika?"//

Lupus glanced at her. //"She's very pretty."//

He pushed her toward Lupus. //"Let's trade."// When Lupus scowled he said, //"Just for tonight, eh? Tika can stay here, and I'll send your wench back in the morning."// He smiled. //"I'll even promise to try to leave no marks on her."//

//"No."//

//"Then how about lending her to me for a few minutes back in, say, your garden?"//

Lupus's voice was dry. //"Not very confident in your stamina, are you?"// Celsus was fair skinned and the blood rising in his face was an easy indicator of his anger. //"I don't share my women, Celsus."//

Cupid stayed to listen to the harper--he was very fond of music. He watched as Mozelle gradually relaxed in the circle of Lupus's arm, nodding. *They have some rough spots ahead, but things should work out satisfactorily.* He looked as Celsus, who was still watching the woman with covetous eyes. *As long as people stay out of it.*

Finally it was time for the guests to leave. Lupus patted Mozelle on the shoulder, then went to the front door with his parents to see the guests off. Mozelle was grateful that the evening was over. She shuffled back to the kitchen, muttering, "Slavers and muggers--fine sort of friends these people have."

It was late. She hoped she'd be able to slip her pallet out from under Gaius's bed without waking him. Rentic and Malanda were sitting at the kitchen table together, sharing a cup of wine, when she entered. They both smiled at her, though Malanda looked a bit doubtful. "Quite a shindig, but I'm glad they do that sort of thing too often. Kind of tiring, huh?" She looked around. "I couldn't understand what all was being said. Which one did he pick? Can she speak any Britanic?"

Rentic and Malanda exchanged looks. "Mozelle..." Rentic began.

She shrugged. "I guess I'll find out tomorrow. I just hope she's not snotty." She walked back toward the children's room. "I'll just go on to bed." She stopped short. Her pallet was already lying across the door, and someone was on it. She looked back to the other slaves, puzzled. "Do we have sleep over guests?"

"Master and Mistress buy Cassia. She be nursemaid, help Tessa, help Malanda."

Mozelle frowned. "But that's my job."

Rentic shook his head. "No, not now."

Malanda said quietly, "Mozelle, Lady Dramilla, Master Lucius say choose. Master Lupus choose you."

She went very still. Her voice was flat. "That's not funny, Malanda. He picked one of those other girls, the blonde or the black girl."

Rentic shook his head again. "No, Lupus want you. Parents buy Cassia to take your place. You belong Master Lupus now."

Mozelle glanced down. "Is... is that why she's sleeping in my place?"

"Yes. You stay Master Lupus's room now."

She was quiet for a moment, letting what they had said sink in. Finally she said quietly, "I don't want to."

Rentic sighed. Heavily, patiently, as if trying to explain something for the hundredth time to a slow child, he said, "Mozelle, you slave. Do what master bids." He tried awkwardly to placate her. "Master Lupus good man, he..."

"Everyone keeps telling me that!" she gritted.

"Mozelle?" They all looked up to find Lupus standing in the doorway. He crooked a finger at her. "Come. Bed." Her eyes were wild, and her glance darted to the door on the other side of the children's room--the one that led out into the back gardens. He noted her look and said sharply, "Slave! Escape is crime."

"Mozelle?" Gaius, his voice sleepy crawled out of bed and came to the door. As the adults watched, he crawled over the mound of Cassia, squeezing a woof of air from the woman. Then he embraced Mozelle, laying his head against her side. "Tessa say you no take care. She say that one do now." He delicately prodded Cassia with his foot. The older woman just regarded him with wry humor.

Lupus came over, squatting down to put his face on level with Gaius's. //"That's right, Gaius, she isn't your nursemaid anymore, but don't worry--she isn't going anywhere. Mother and Father gave her to me for my manhood present."//

Gaius blinked. //"Your very own? Oh, Lupus, you are lucky! She knows the best songs and stories, and she always has time to play games."//

Lupus smiled. //"That's good to know. But you know what, Gaius?"// He leaned close to whisper. //"I'm not sure she wants to be my slave. Maybe she doesn't like me?"//

Gaius looked disbelieving. He tugged at Mozelle's hand. "Mozelle, you like Lupus, yes?"

"I... Gaius, it's not that simple."

"You like him?"

She hesitated. Lupus grinned up at her. "You are so sneaky." She looked back at Gaius. He watched her expectantly. Finally she said slowly, "Sure, kid. I like him--kinda. Some."

He pushed her toward Lupus. "You go with him. Play games."

Lupus's smile got even wider as he took the woman's hand and began to lead her from the room. "Yes, Gaius. We play games."

Part Sixteen

Lupus was tugging Mozelle toward the hall that led back to the rest of the family quarters. Neither of them noticed the tall blonde man with wings who was blocking the doorway. Just before Lupus ran into him he passed his hand through the air and everyone in the room froze. He raised his voice and called, //"Dischordia!"// Nothing happened. He scowled. //"Dischordia, Now!"//

The red haired goddess appeared on the other side of the room. //"Impatient, impatient, Love God. I was busy with a nice little neighborhood feud that's about ready to errupt into actual brawling, and..."// She blinked, looking at the couple standing before Cupid. //"Hey! He's dragging her off to his room, isn't he? And in front of the servants, too. When did this happen?"//

//"It was his adulthood celebration tonight, and when his parents offered him a choice of slaves he chose her."//

Dischordia gaped. //"Wait a minute, I didn't set that up! That's... that's..."// Cupid was nodding, waiting for her protests. She grinned, //"that's just so perfect!"// She danced in a circle, clapping her hands. //"Oo, I just love it when things work out!"// She wagged her fingers mockingly at the oblivious mortal woman. //"Hah! Bet you think twice before you defame one of my altars again."//

//"Dischordia!"// Cupid's voice was like a whipcrack, and Dischordia stopped in her tracks, scowling. The mortals thought of Cupid as a gentle, benevolent god, but they'd never seen how he got when someone interferred in his affairs. Love could be just as implacable as War. After all, though opposites, they were two of the strongest elements in creation.

//"Mom was right--you're being a real brat about this whole thing. Look, why don't you just send that poor woman back to her own time right now? Think about the confusion and uproar it will cause if she just disappears into thin air!"// he said slyly. //"It should power you for a week."//

//"Oo, yeah!" She looked at Malanda, who had a concerned expression on her face, and Gaius, who was watching the scene with innocent incomprehension. "I bet it would scare the old lady and the kid into fits! Not to mention frustrating Lupus almost crazy, and..."// Her eyes narrowed. //"Wait a minute, you aren't going to distract me that easily!"//

He shrugged. //"It was worth a try. She's going back, eventually, you know. Sooner or later Zeus will listen to one of the goddesses you've gotten involved in this, and I'm about to start adding my petitions to theirs. I'm pretty sure I have something mapped out for this woman in her own age."//

Dischordia shrugged. //"Maybe in a few years. I think I'm going to substitue caraway seeds for that contraception tea he's giving her. A bastard child by a slave ought to really stir things up. I mean, it would be no big things in most of Rome these days, but this family?"// She chortled.

Cupid reached her in two strides, twisted his fist in the front of her toga, and lifted her off the floor. //"You will not bring an innocent child into this mess you've created!"// His voice was ominous.

Dischordia gave him a calculating look and quickly decided that she was riding far too close to the edge. //"It was just a thought. Anyway, shouldn't you go ahead and release them? The rest of the world is moving on, and someone is bound to show up."//

He let her drop. //"Damn! You're right--I have to do something, quick."// He sighed, stringing his bow. //"I was hoping to avoid having to do anything directly, but there's no time for slow and subtle. Let's see, Lupus is already fixated, so I just have to worry about Mozelle."// He unslung his quiver and examined the selection of arrows in it. "I don't think my Platonic Love special will do in this case. I can't justify using the Deep and Abiding Love, because she may be sent back to the future at some point, and it would be cruel to separate them." His hand hovered. "Mmm, I suppose Infatuation is the best bet."// He strung a silvery arrow. //"This should make the experience pleasant for them both. It'll wear off Mozelle in a couple of days, and by then perhaps Zeus will have decided to take a hand in this. If not, maybe it will develope into something deeper on it's own."//

He drew the bow and let the arrow fly. It had just a scant few feet to go, but instead of sinking into the woman's body and melting into her, as it should have... It bounced off. Cupid and Dischordia both blinked in surprise. Cupid retrieved the arrow and examined it closely. It seemed perfectly fine. He stepped back and tried it again. The same thing happened.

//"What's wrong?"// asked Dischordia.

//"I'm not sure. There's only one thing I can think of--she doesn't believe in us."//

//"But there are a lot of people who don't worship us, and we affect them."//

//"Dischordia, they don't actively worship us, and they may can't not to believe, but they were raised hearing about us every day, surrounded by our altars and statues, hearing our tales and our praises every day of their lives. There's a little corner of them that can't not believe. She was raised completely out of our time. We're nothing to her but myths."//

//"Yeah, but I've been working on her."//

//"No, Dischordia, you've been working on the people around her, and they've been affecting her. I'm not entirely sure I can affect her at all. Hm."// He studied the woman. //"I'm trying to work on her heart and her emotions. Maybe if I limited myself to the physical..."//

He rummaged in his quiver, reaching into the very bottom. //"I know I have one of them around here somewhere.//"

His hand was moving slowly and carefully, and Dischordia said, //"What's holding you up? Why are you taking so long?"//

He made a face at her. //"Because I don't want to stick myself with this. Especially not when you're around. Ah, there it is!"// He drew out a tiny golden dart. It was no longer than his finger, but rather fat. The tip was needle sharp, and the end was fletched with bright scarlet feathers.

Discordia examined it curiously. //"What is it?"//

//"It's a Passion Dart. Mom makes them for me. They're loaded with a sexual stimulant. She calls it an aphrodisiac. I told her it was a little vain, naming it after herself, but..."// he shrugged. "Since this is as much chemical as it is mystical, it should work on her at least a little. I just want to keep her from coming totally apart till I can figure out a more permanent solution."//

He went back to the woman, and studied her face, recognizing the anxiety and apprehension. Lupus showed nothing but anticipation. He shook his head. //"Damn, boy. She has some interest, yes, but it's buried deep, and it should be uncovered slowly and gently. You know enough about women to see that, so why are you pushing so hard?"// He shook his head. //"I think it's that damn collar."//

Discordia sounded skeptical. //"Some guys find that sexy, yeah, but it seems like kind of an extreme reaction."//

//"Not that, Cordie. I think that he can't see very far past the collar. She's a slave first to him. It's the prevailant attitude these days, and I'm not sure he'll be able to get past the mindset. He might fall in love with her, but I doubt if he'd ever consider making a formal committment to her. Oh, well, I'll just have to go for the temporary solution."//

He slapped the dart against the woman's behind, and this time it melted into her. //"Well, it's going to have some effect, anyway."// He waved his hand, and things went into motion again. Cupid watched them as they went down the hall. Was he mistaken, or was there a little less drag in her step?

//"Scuse me."// Dischordia tried to push past Cupid.

He grabbed her arm. //"Where do you think you're going?"//

//"To watch, of course.//

//"Like fun, you are.//

//"I'd like to see you stop me."//

His grip tightened, and his voice was low and menacing. //"No, Cordie, you really don't want to see that."//

They stared at each other silently for a moment. Finally she said, //"Fine. Party pooper."// She disappeared with a pop.

Cupid watched as Lupus and Mozelle disappeared into the family quarters. Malanda and Rentic went to their room, Rentic trying to reassure his wife that things would be all right for the odd little woman she'd become so fond of, and the new nursemaid coaxed Gaius to get back to bed.

Finally the kitchen was empty. Cupid looked up at the ceiling. \\"Mom? I sure do hope that you and the other ladies get through to Zeus soon. I don't have time to hang around this house, waiting to hit her with a dose of desire every time Lupus starts to feel frisky."\\ He disappeared.

*

*Oh God, oh God, oh God. The one time in my life I know precisely what's on someone else's mind, and it's this. I wonder how angry he'd get if I kneed him in the crotch? I hear that really pisses guys off. It sure as hell looks effective in the movies. How much trouble would I get in? Rentic said you can be executed for threatening a citizen. Somehow I figure they wouldn't take defending yourself against rape as a very good excuse for a slave, and I really should stop babbling mentally, because I'm about to have a serious situation to deal with...*

Lupus tugged Mozelle into his room, then released her, turning to lock the door. He turned back and leaned against it, smiling at her. A small oil lamp flickered on the table, and his smile was very white in the dim light.

*Okay, I'm going to ignore this. We'll see if that works.* The clothes that Lupus had changed out of for the celebration were tossed carelessly on a chair. She picked up his tunic and folded it neatly, looking around for where it was supposed to be stored. Lupus came to her and took it from her hands, dropping it back on the chair. She clenched her hands and said quietly, "I'm supposed to take care of your things, right? I'm just trying to do my job."

"Later."

She had seen something peeking out from under the edge of Lupus's bed, and she went and pulled it out. As she'd guessed, it was a thin pallet, like the one she slept on in the children's room. Apparently each of the householders had one in their room for a body slave. She spread it along one wall, out of the way.

Lupus watched her, his expression faintly amused. When she was done he shook his head and pushed the pallet back under his bed with his foot. When she started to reach for it again he took her arm. "Leave it."

When he reached for her other arm she swung her hand quickly, knocking his hand away. "Don't." There was suddenly something different about his touch that made her even more nervous. *Not exactly afraid, but nervous. Why not afraid? I should be terrified.*

"Mozelle," his voice was soft, almost chiding. He reached toward her again, and she raised her hand jerkily, prepared to block him again. He stopped, hand still outstretched toward her, and repeated her name, even more softly. "Mozelle? No hurt."

"You don't understand. There are different kinds of hurt." Her eyes squeezed shut for an instant. *Why should that surprise me? There are so many who still don't understand in my time. They think for it to be rape the woman has to end up in the hospital, or at least marked up.* His grip on her arm had loosened, and he slowly stroked her upper arm, still smiling. *Oh, Jesus, he's petting me to keep me calm.*

It was just so hopeless. She'd read plenty of books and articles on self-defense, had watched countless programs where experts told you the best way to deal with a rapist. The problem was, all of their advice was predicated on the assumption that there had to be someone, somewhere out there who was going to be appalled by the idea that you were being molested, and assist you. They assumed that the assailant was at least aware that there was some penalty assigned to such actions. None of that applied here.

Even if she managed somehow to get out of this room and out of this house... Well, she'd seen enough to know that it would probably create more problems for her than it would solve. She remembered Celsus and his cronies, and the two men who had lured her from the temple, and Tinactus. She came to the conclusion that there were things a lot worse than Lupus out there.

When she hadn't moved to force his touch away, Lupus tried again. This time she allowed him to grip both of her arms, and he pulled her a little closer. He could sense her resistence weakening, and was relieved to think that he wasn't going to have to use actual force on her. That would have been unpleasant for both of them.

Mozelle felt his breath fan her face, and her own breath hitched. She felt her scalp prickle, the skin drawing tight. *This is going to happen, isn't it? I mean, I think it would happen anyway, but I'm not going to do anything to try to make it stop. So much for Pearl Pureheart, fighting the fate worse than death to her final breath. Face it, Mozelle, you aren't as pure as the driven snow... not mentally, anyway. If there had been any choice involved in this...* He was leaning toward her. "I don't want this." He shrugged, then bent and pressed his mouth to the side of her throat. She stiffened, and had to lock her knees when they suddenly got weak.

One last try. "I know our communication is kind of sporadic, but I have to try. Do you know what a virgin is?" That made him lift his head.

Lupus studied the woman. "Virgin?" She nodded. "No men?" She nodded again. He knew that it wasn't tactful, and it might antagonize her, but he couldn't help it--he laughed. The very idea of a woman her age who was healthy and presentable, and hadn't dedicated herself to chastity in the service of some god, being a virgin. It was a mistake. He saw the flare of hurt in her eyes. The first slap landed, and it was a respectable blow for a woman. He caught her wrist before the second one could land. "Mozelle, sorry!"

"You bastard." It was her turn to realize that she'd made a mistake. In her time 'bastard' had become so mild that it was hardly considered an insult any more. That wasn't how it was in ancient Rome. His grip on her wrist tightened till she could feel the small bones rubbing together. She cringed, expecting the blows that her reluctance had not earned.

Instead Lupus took a deep breath and said, "You do not say again. Understand?"

"Yes."

He let go of her wrist, then pointed at her and flicked his finger upward. "Off."

There wasn't a lot of stalling to be done with the Roman style of clothing. In Victorian times she could have taken long minutes with hooks and buttons and lacings. You could only take so long to untie a belt and pull a toga over your head. When she was done she held the garment awkwardly, shielding her torso. Lupus took it from her hand and threw it on the chair with his other clothes.

She was still wearing her bra and panties, and he examined them with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, walking around her for a better view. She felt him tugging at the back band of her bra, trying to figure out exactly how it unfastened. He was muttering under his breath in Latin, and she wondered if he was cursing the garment, or commenting on it's cleverness. Eventually he figured out how to unfasten it, and she was ironically reminded of all those seventies movies where they made jokes about the boys out necking trying to fumble open a bra chatch. She had a sudden urge to hunt down every man who'd ever written such a scene and slap him.

When the bra joined the other clothes, she was unable to resist the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Lupus moved up close behind her, putting his arms around her and taking hold of her wrists, moved her arms down again. Then he reached up and cupped her breasts.

It was the first time a man had ever put his hands on her naked flesh. He chuckled, a low sound, and she was shocked to realize that her nipples were hard. *That shouldn't be! How can it...? It's not cold in here. Can fear do that to you? I'm not excited--I'm not!*

Lupus couldn't repressed the triumphant laugh when he felt the firm buds. //"So, you say you don't want this. Maybe you actually believe it, but your body tells a different story."// He urged her over to the bed and pushed down on her shoulders till she sat.

He began to untie his belt, and she said, "Lupus?" He paused. "Would... would you blow out the lamp?"

He touched her cheek. "Why? Pretty Mozelle."

"Please." He studied her a moment longer, then bent over and blew out the flame. The room was plunged into utter darkness. Mozelle thought that she might as well have gone blind. She heard the rustle of cloth.

*I won't fight. I'll use passive resistance. I'll just lay here like a sack of feed and let him do what he wants and get it over with. It can't take long. Then I'll get on my pallet and that will be the end of it.* She had expected to be grabbed and pushed and positioned. She hadn't expected gentleness.

He put his hands on her, stroking her arms and sides and thighs. He pulled her against his body, and she whimpered a little at the shock of warm skin against her own. She felt somehow sensitized, as if she were feeling all this much more strongly than she should have.

Then she felt his mouth. Not on her own, though. His lips brushed her cheeks brow. He nuzzled her ear. When she squirmed, he nibbled at her earlobe, then sucked it. He trailed damp kisses down her throat, and sucked and nipped at one spot till she knew that she would have a mark, and wondered vaguely what she would say if someone mentioned it.

By now she was wondering if she might not be sick, because she was feeling feverish. There was a heat in her blood, and she was feeling lightheaded. Her arms and legs felt heavy, and, while she felt as if she couldn't get off the bed unless there was a fire, she also felt like she was about to jump out of her skin.

She held good to her vow to remain still... for awhile. But when his tongue flicked over one stiff nipple she cried out quietly and arched her back. She felt a hand slip under the waistband of her panties, and she grabbed at his wrist desperately. His fingers stretched, and one slid shallowly into the crease that marked her sex, and brushed against something. She let go with a moan.

Lupus slid his hand over the tickling ruffle of her pubic hair, seeking. Again he found the small bit of flesh, and he rubbed it gently. A friendly whore had told him about this years ago, this little button that could give a woman so much pleasure. He continued to caress it, lavishing kisses, licks, and sucks on Mozelle's heaving bosom, till he suddenly found his fingers sliding in slick fluid, and the woman began trembling. *She's ready. She has to be ready. In any case, I can't wait any longer.*

Lupus eased the odd garment down Mozelle's legs. He could feel that the band of material that went between her legs was damp with her own juices, and he smiled. It wasn't easy in the dark, but he located the penile sheath he'd gotten from the apothecary, and the little jar of sweet oil. He quickly slicked himself, then carefully pulled the thin little sheath over his straining cock, being careful not to tear it. It fit snugly. After a brief hesitation, he slicked the outside of the sheath, too, to make it as easy for his lover as possible. If there was still the least bit of tension... He was determined to find his own release, but it would be so much more pleasurable is she enjoyed it, too.

Taking her shoulders, he turned her to lie on the bed, her head on the pillow, and moved over her. He slipped a knee between her thighs, urging them apart, then settled into the space. He was a little high at first, his cock pressing into the soft plain of her stomach.

Mozelle gasped at the alien sensation. It was so strange to feel the large, solid body pressing down on her own. And oh, it was even stranger to feel the hot, hard length poking insistently at her belly. She felt him lift, and knew he was going to position himself. Her apprehension burst back upon her, full blown, and she whispered, "Slow! Please, oh please, go slow!"

Lupus gritted his teeth, but he wanted her to be willing later on. He felt till he found the sorce of the warm, slick liquid. For a moment he hesitated. *Small. She feels so tiny.* But the lust was too strong, and it quickly pushed aside this qualm. He fitted himself against the little slit and began to push. She groaned. He couldn't feel the wetness, but he could feel the heat, and the oil in the sheath was almost as good.

He sank into her an inch, then two. *Jupiter, she's tight. It must've been a long time since she last lay with a man.* He continued to push forward, trying to ignore the whine of discomfort that was building in the back of her throat. If she'd just relax... He stopped. Not because he wanted to, but because he didn't seem to be able to go on. He was only half embeded, and it seemed as if some obstruction...

Sudden insight flooded over him, and he jerked his head up. His eyes had adjusted a bit to the dark. This close, he could just barely make out the lines of her face. Her eyes weren't closed, as he might have expected. She was staring at him, her breathing quick and deep. He said slowly, "Virgo?"

Her expression twisted, and her voice was almost a sob. "I told you, you ass!" He touched her face, and felt warm tears.

He wiped a tear from her cheek. "Sh, pupa virgo."

*Maybe he'll stop. Maybe since he realizes that I never...*

Lupus put his hand over her mouth, jerking his hips hard. She shrieked at the burning pain as her maidenhead was split, and he slid into her fully. Her entire body stiffened in shock. Lupus stayed still for a moment, wanting desperately to move, but also wanting to let her get used to her new state. She didn't cry out again, but made a whimpering sound that would have torn at his conscience if it hadn't been so lust fogged.

He uncovered her mouth and rubbed his cheek against hers. "Venia," he whispered. He started to move inside her. "Venia. Te facio mihi intrepidus."

*Did he just apologize?* she thought, dazed. Mozelle had sometimes pleasured herself in the dark quiet of her bedroom, but she had never been adventurous enough to try one of the devices she'd seen advertised on the 'net, or in the backs of 'adult' magazines. She'd never even slipped a finger into herself. The discomfort she'd encountered on on long ago aborted experiment had kept her from trying again, and now this. *I have to go over two thousand years and nearly six thousand miles to get deflowered. And I always figured it would be in my own bed, or maybe a Holiday Inn.* For a moment she had thought she was going to suffocate, but Lupus propped his upper body off her by bracing his elbows on either side of her. He was pumping into her now with a steady rhythm, hips working smoothly. After the initial burst, the pain faded to a dull ache, like that of muscles that had been overtaxed after remaining unused for too long, and even that ache was fading. She was almost horrified to realize that... that...

*Oh, my God. It feels good. What kind of a slut am I?! He's raping me, I can't enjoy this.* But when Lupus reached down between their joined bodies and found the small, slippery knob of her clitoris and began to rub it gently, there was no way to deny it. A heat that almost seemed to shimmer was moving through her body, building up in liquid waves.

If asked, Mozelle would have said that yes, she had had orgasms before (she would have probably cursed the questioner, but she would have been honest.) What hit her, though, bore only a vague resemblence to what had gone before. It was like comparing a bottle rocket to a volcanic eruption. Her entire inside seemed to convulse as a tidal wave of heat and pleasure broke over her, and she found that she was bucking up to meet Lupus, her feet hooking over his legs in back to draw him closer.

Lupus felt when she found her release. It was as if his cock was seized in a firm grip, stroked and squeezed. She arched under him, head digging back into the pillow, mouth open in a quiet wail of surprise. It was enough to make a man a little mad.

He lunged against her strongly, driving himself into her core with short, hard, almost brutal stabs, growling. When she cried out again, this time with astonishment as a second orgasm ripped through her, he came himself. He groaned in satisfaction, going very still, with his prick buried to the root. Head thrown back, he trembled as his seed filled the little sheath. He made one, two more strokes, his cock already beginning to soften.

Finally it was done. He pulled out carefully, holding himself so that the apothicary's generous gift would not be lost or torn, then threw the limp sheath on the floor. He was just ready to settle back when Mozelle shifted, beginning to swing her legs over the edge of the bed and sit up. He hooked an arm around her waist, holding her. "What?"

Her voice was a little ragged. "My bed. I'm going to get my bed."

He clicked his tongue, and pulled her back down beside him, settling her comfortably against his side. Reaching down, he pulled a sheet up over them both, then drew her head down to tuck it under his chin. "Sleep."

She was still. "Do you mean that besides sleeping with me, you want to sleep with me?"

He sighed. "Novus femina. Sleep."

There was a brief silence. Then she whispered, "Pertinacia juvenis."

In the dark, Lupus smiled. "Pertinacia? Etiam. Juvenis? Ne."

Part Seventeen

She woke up to an odd mixture of comfort and discomfort. She ached--there was no way around that. She felt like she'd been punched repeatedly in the crotch. The closest she could come to describing what it felt like was the time in sixth grade when she'd been walking the balance beam and had fallen, landing astraddle it. She also felt messy. There was a distinct stickiness between her legs, and her skin had the tacky feel it often got after she sweated and before she washed.

And there was someone in bed with her. Oddly enough, this wasn't part of the discomfort. Mozelle had always been a touch-me-not in bed, but then those few times she'd actually slept with someone it had been because there were too many people crowded into a house over a holiday, and her bedpartner had been a (generally elderly) female relative. The fact that the bed partner was young, male, attractive, and not a blood relative put it in a whole 'nuther ballpark.

Lupus was on his side, pressed along her body as she lay on her back. One arm curled over his head and the other was thrown almost casually across her body, just under her breasts. She could feel his breath, warm and moist, against her throat. As she tried to look at him from the corner of her eye (not wanting to risk waking him by turning her head), he made a soft, whuffing sound, not quite a snore, and half rolled on top of her, one leg going over hers. She felt something solid prod her hip, and that pretty much woke her the rest of the way up.

*Oh, geez, please tell me that's just a morning 'gotta pee' stiffie, and he's not going to want an eye-opener. Otherwise I think I might do something radical that might land me in chains for the next few months.*

Lupus yawned, opening his eyes slowly. When his eyes came to rest on Mozelle he smiled and said, "Quid agis?"

"I've heard that enough to know what it means. I'm... okay, I guess. At least you didn't say veni, vidi, vici." He looked surprised, laughing, and she flushed. "No! Not me, I'm not saying that. I mean you could have. I was trying to be sarcastic, so I guess it serves me right. I should know better than to make jokes in a second language. Do you understand anything I'm saying?"

"Parvulas." He rubbed her belly, and his hand started to slide lower.

She caught his wrist. "Consto."

Lupus was too amused by her attempt to speak Latin to be irritated by her refusal. "Quidne?"

She frowned in concentration. "Quan... quando eo sordeo."

He shook his head. "Lino, ne sordeo." //"You're a little messy from last night, but it's purely physical. You're not sordid."// "Good you learn." His fingers scratched lightly at her lower belly. "Ne?"

Again she thought hard, and said, "I sentio dolor."

She was a little shocked when he gave her a gentle hug. //"Yes. I'm sorry about that. By the time I knew... Well, I really couldn't stop."// He removed his arm and leg, and patted her hip. "Consurgo." She looked at him blankly. "Consurgo." He pushed her lightly.

"Oh. Up and at 'em. Okay." She was on the outside of the bed, so she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. There was a twinge, and she winced a little as she stood. "Now what do I..." Lupus had gotten up and was taking a pot out of a little cabinet. She turned her back quickly as he casually began to relieve himself. "I'm never going to get used to this. Most people have to be married for years before they leave the bathroom door open. But I suppose for you it isn't much different from peeing in front of the cat."

She hadn't expected him to understand that, either, but he stroked the back of her neck and chuckled. "Felis." He pulled the sheets from the bed and handed her one, motioning to her to wrap herself in it, as he did with his. //"First we bathe."//

She shuffled along behind Lupus, muttering to herself, "Empty halls, empty halls, please?" And she got empty halls... till they got to the bathing room.

Lupus almost ran into Lucius and Rentic as they were exiting. //"Good morning, son. I'm glad to see that you're up and about early. Now that you're a man I'll be expecting you to take your rightful place in my business."//

//"I'm looking forward to it, Father.//

Rentic was standing beside Lucius, waiting to be dismissed. While he waited he studied Mozelle. The woman hung back behind Lupus, almost as if she was trying to hide behind the young man. He felt a sense of commiseration for the girl. She'd so obviously been unready for last night. *But she'll just have to learn to accept whatever duties Master Lupus chooses to give her,* he told himself. *and it isn't as if she were a blushing virgin.*

The the woman shifted slightly, and Rentic saw the stain. There was a bloody patch on the sheet that was wrapped about her. His eyes flew to her face in astonishment. She flushed, but she didn't drop her eyes. Her gaze was level--almost defiant.

//"Rentic, you can go on about your business--I won't need you."// When Lucius dismissed him, Rentic bowed and went along to the kitchen.

In the kitchen Malanda was setting bones and vegetables to simmer for a stock. Cassia sat at the table, carefully feeding milk soaked bread to Patenic. Malanda looked up when he entered, and saw the concerned look on her husband's face. //"Rentic, is something wrong?"//

He sat down at the table, shaking his head. //"Mozelle. I met her in the hall, going to the bathing chamber with Master Lupus. They wore their sheets and... Malanda, there was blood on hers."//

Malanda gasped, and Cassia shook her head. //"And he looked like such a nice young man."//

Malanda said hotly, //"He didn't beat her! I won't believe that."//

Rentic stood and patted her shoulder. //"No, love, I didn't mean that. She looked well, there were no marks on her. I think that the blood was caused by something else."//

Cassia frowned, then laughed. //"Well, it wasn't much of a first night for them if her monthly curse came."//

//"But it wouldn't be that,"// Malanda protested. //"She came to me for cloths not more than ten days ago. It would be over by now, and the next not for some time. Rentic..."// she clutched her husband's arm. //"You really think it was her first time?"//

Rentic sighed. //"I know it seems unlikely, but I don't see what other explanation there could be. I'm a little ashamed of myself. I thought it was nothing more than reluctance to take on more duties."// Malanda slapped him, none too gently, on the back of the head. //"Yes, yes, I realize that now. Jupiter, Malanda, the look she gave me! As if she were challenging me to say, or even think anything the least bit pitying."//

Conversation died after that. Cassia didn't say much. She still wasn't sure of her footing in the household, and she figured it was more prudent to just sit back and observe for awhile. The good looking young man she'd been presented to last night bustled in, hair damp. He briefly greeted them all, took the baby for a quick cuddle, then gathered fruit and bread. //"No need to do much for lunch, Malanda. Father and I will be at the docks, and we'll eat in a tavern."// Then he was gone again.

A few minutes later the woman he had led from the kitchen the night before came in, carrying an armload of sheets and clothes. She halted just inside the door as all attention focused on her. After a moment's silence she said, //"Malanda, where tub? I wash this."//

Rentic pulled the large copper washing tub from under a shelf and held it out so she could dump her load in it. //"Where is the tub. I need to wash this."//

"Whatever."

Malanda said hesitantly, "Mozelle, I wash later."

She scowled. "No, it's my job. I have to take care of his things, don't I? After I finish these I'll straighten up his room, then I'm available for whatever you need."

"Mozelle," Rentic said, "You belong Master Lupus now. His slave. You..."

"Well, he isn't going to be here today, is he?" she snapped. "And once I get the little bit done taking care of his room and clothes, what the hell am I supposed to do? Lounge around and look pretty?"

"Mozelle..." Malanda reached out to her, but the woman jerked back.

"Stop it!" she hissed. "Stop looking at me like I've got some sort of fatal disease and you have to tiptoe around the subject to keep me from getting upset." Her voice rose. "All right--we all know what happened last night. Let's just say it and forget about it. I got deflowered, okay?"

Gaius came out of his room, rubbing his eyes. "Mozelle, what flower you lose?"

She turned crimson. "Oh, geez. Maybe if I live to my own century I'll learn to keep my foot out of my mouth." She shifted the tub to hold it under one arm, and used the other to tousle Gaius's hair when he came to lean against her. "I dunno, kid. I've always liked gladioli. Maybe irises. Knowing me, though, it could be dandelions."

Gaius hugged her waist. "You tell me story later?"

"Sure, hon. Go eat your breakfast." Without further discussion she took some soap and went out into the back yard. She dipped water from the well and filled the tub, muttering to herself, "Cold water for blood stains, or you cook them into the fabric."

First she washed Lupus's tunic, muttering to herself about how she'd have to get her spare clothes out of the children's room and move them to Lupus's chamber. Then she put the sheets into the tub and began to scrub them. The blood stain had dried, and she soaped and scrubbed and soaped and scrubbed till it began to fade. Finally she could see no shadow on the fabric, and drew fresh water to rinse the laundry. Soon she had most of it spread on the grass to dry, and was finishing the last sheet.

She held the material up, examining it closely. It was pristine--you would never guess that there had been a thick maroon blotch there. Suddenly she crumpled beside the tub, crushing her face into the damp cloth. The stain was gone. All evidence of the fact that she had once been a virgin was gone. The thought suddenly brought home to her how very changed her life was.

One of the most disturbing things about all of this was the fact that she wasn't any more disturbed by it than she was. *Shouldn't I be collapsed by now? Shouldn't I be crying, or gibbering, or screaming? I don't even feel much different--physically, anyway. Yeah, I still ache some, but no worse than when I first started to get my period. And there are bruises on the inside of my thighs, and on my hips. Not big ones, but they're there. Thank heavens he didn't want to get frisky in the bath today.* She shivered. *I don't think I'll ever get used to someone else washing me, though. I'm glad he let me wash my own private parts, but he might have kept from laughing when he did.*

She heard the hush of feet over the grass and sat up quickly, dropping the sheet. Gaius was appoaching, and he looked concerned. "Mozelle, you sick?"

She forced a smile. "No. I was just sniffing the sheets." She demonstrated, taking a deep whiff. "Mm, they smell fresh! See?" She held out the sheet. Looking puzzled, Gaius gave it an obliging sniff, and nodded dubiously. "One of my foibles, kid." She spread the sheet out and dumped the rinse water. "I've got to go clean up Lupus's room."

He tugged at her hand. "Breakfast?"

She disengaged herself gently. "Maybe later, honey. I'm not very hungry right now."

Gaius watched her go, puzzled. Mozelle missing a meal? That wasn't right.

Mozelle got fresh sheets and made the bed in Lupus's room again, then did what little straightening there was to be done. She lingered for awhile, then went to the kitchen. She wasn't going to hide.

Malanda was alone in the kitchen. She looked at Mozelle almost warily, and the woman sighed, then said, "I'm sorry I was snotty Malanda. I'm... a little touchy." She sat at the table, propping her chin in her hands. Malanda brought her a slice of fig cake, thickly spread with butter, and set it before her almost timidly. Mozelle nodded thanks, but didn't begin eating. Instead she traced patterns in the butter with her fingertip, licking it clean occasionally.

Gaius came in, went to her, and leaned against her side again. She offered him the cake, and he shook his head. "Your breakfast."

"I don't really want it." Gaius had a hand tucked behind his back. "Whatcha got there, boo?"

Smiling shyly, Gaius pulled his hand out from behind his back. He was holding a thick wreath of thin vines with silky green leaves and tiny cream colored, horn shaped flowers. A sweet fragrance teased Mozelle, and she smiled automatically. It brought back memories of hot summers in her childhood. There had been a huge bush at her grandmother's house that was always draped in this plant. She'd spent hours carefully plucking the tiny flowers, nipping off the stem end, and gently pulling out the this, threadlike stamens. A minute drop would appear at the end, and she'd lap it off, getting a little, sugary burst of flavor. "Honeysuckle."

He nodded, holding it up. "For you." She reached for it, but he shook his head, gesturing at her. "Down." She obligingly bent, tipping her head, and he carefully settled the wreath on her head, crowning her. When she sat back up, adjusting it, he clapped his hands happily. "There! Pretty, Mozelle."

She laughed. "Thank you, darlin. But why on earth?"

"You sad, you lose your flower. This better?"

Mozelle felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes, but she smiled and said softly, "Yes, baby, this makes it better." Then she started to eat breakfast.

Part Eighteen

Notes:Gratia agere te--thank you, vercundus--bashful, mei qualitas--my nature

The sunlight was deepening into gold, the shadows slanting in the back garden, when Lupus and his father returned late that afternoon. Rentic had told Mozelle what was expected, and Mozelle met the two men at the front door. She had brought a basin of water. Kneeling, she reached for the ties of Lupus's sandals, but her master pulled back, indicating his father. "Head of house first."

Lucius waited as the woman took off his sandals then quickly, but efficiently, washed the dust from his feet and lower legs, then dried them. Then she started on his son's ablutions. He watched critically to see if there was any extra slowness, any added tenderness. He honestly couldn't say. *And I wonder if I would want that. A young master and a female slave--it's almost certain that there will be intimacies. The problem is when the intimacies go too far. His mother is worried that he'll get her with child, and that would be awkward. If he does, I suppose we'd have to emancipate the child. If Lupus didn't want to give them mother up, then we'd have to find a decent family to foster the child. Oh, well. No use worrying about it till it happens. In the meantime, Lupus is old enough to be married now. There are plenty of likely choices out there. I'll have to discuss it with Dramilla.*

When Mozelle finished cleaning Lupus's feet, she stood up. Before she could bend down, he picked up the basin of now dingy water and handed it to her. //"Gratia agera te."//

//"AgerE,"// Lupus corrected. She nodded, and carried the water back to the kitchen.

As Lucius and Lupus walked to the family quarters, Lucius commented, //"So, she's learning our language, is she?"//

//"And not doing too badly. I think she's finally realized that this is her home now."//

//"Mm, well, if she accepts her station, things will be a lot easier on her."// He shook his head. //"Those slaves who go through their life with no thought but to be set free are sad creatures. I knew one old man who worked his entire life, saving the few coppers he was given or that his master allowed him to earn for himself working outside the household. Very generous man, his master. Never required him to hand over more than half of what he earned. Anyway, he worked and saved for over forty years, never spending a bit to buy the little luxuries that would have made his life more pleasant. He finally had enough to buy himself. His master was as good as his word--he let the slave buy his freedom. Well, of course, by then the old man was scarcely anything but a drain on the household. Off he went, into the world, with nothing but the robe on his back, his sandles, and a handful of coppers. He was killed about a month later when he tried to steal food from a senator's slave who was walking home from market. The old fool could have died warm, well fed, and cared for."//

Lupus made no reply, but he nodded as he followed his father.

*

That night Malanda shooed Mozelle out of the kitchen, telling her to go help her master change for dinner. *Makes sense, I guess. After all, no air conditioning, especially no air filters, no asphalt or cement means dust, dust, dust. Fresh clothes would be a benefit. Hmm. Maybe a little more than the foot washing would be in order? There's a few minutes till they serve.* She carried another basin of water back to Lupus's room. He was sitting at his table, studying a parchment when she came in. He looked up, studied her, and smiled. //"Another wash?"// She set the basin down on the table, shrugging. He reached out and ran a finger slowly up the inside of her forearm. //"Mozelle, do you think I need another wash before I change?"//

*This might have been a mistake. Sheesh, try to anticipate what they want you to do and put your foot right in it. Oh, hell, might as well try to snark my way out of it.*

She wrinkled her nose ever so slightly, and made an infintesimal waving motion with her hand. She was relieved when Lupus laughed and stood, holding out his arms so she could undo his belt.

As she stripped the tunic over his head she thought, *When I was a kid, ignoring my Barbie doll, I never dreamed that I would have a living Ken doll some day.* The tunic was laid aside, and Lupus stood patiently, waiting for her to begin washing him. She took up the wet cloth and started to wipe him down. When she got to his waist and started to skim down his hips instead of moving into the groin area, she thought, *But then, Ken dolls are never anatomically correct.*

Lupus allowed her to continue, his expression amused. When she started to drop the cloth back in the basin, he caught her wrist. With his free hand he grazed his fingers through his pubic hair, brought them to his nose, and sniffed pointedly, then raised an eyebrow at her. He released her, and without a word she re-wet the cloth and scrubbed it through his pubic hair, then wiped his genitals, quickly and gently.

Again he caught her wrist. This time he removed the cloth and formed her fingers around the length of his cock. She stayed very still. He said, //"Are you still shy, Mozelle?"// She looked puzzled. "Vercundus?" A blush was rising in her cheeks. //"Yes, bashful. Come."//

He led her over and sat on the bed, pulling her down to sit beside him. Then he again pressed her hand to his firming flesh and moved it slowly. //"You have to get over that, Mozelle. It can be charming in a young slave, just starting out, but it is inappropriate for a mature body slave."//

"It isn't like I can help it," she whispered. "It's how I am. Mei qualitas."

//"Your nature, eh?"// He slipped his arm around her waist and lay back on the bed, pulling her down with him. //"Perhaps your surface nature, but you showed me a different, deeper one last night, didn't you?"//

Cupid and Venus stood in the corner of the room, watching as Lupus guided Mozelle to stroke his awakening cock, while he used his mouth to give her throat a leisurely exploration. Venus was nodding her approval, smiling, but Cupid was shaking his head. She pouted. //"What? Look, son,"// she waved at the couple. //"They're getting along swimmingly."//

//"Mom, will you look at her eyes? She's not about to bolt, but she's definitely too nervous to be enjoying that."//

//"Well, hit her with a Passion Dart, then. I'm sure you just need to get her rolling and her hormones will take over. She's a healthy girl."//

//"Mom, they're about to call them in to dinner. You've been sexually frustrated before, haven't you?"// She gave him a look. He sighed. //"I know it isn't a regular thing with you, and I'll never tell, but come on."//

She shrugged. //"Well, there has been a time or two."//

//"Would you really wish that on those two?"//

She sighed. //"Oh, I suppose not."//

//"Then no Passion Dart till they're ready to go to bed."// Not too hopefully he said, //"Maybe by then they won't need it. But you know, Mom, I'm not really sure them having a relationship is good for either one of them."//

There was a tap on the door, and Lupus propped himself up on his elbow, scowling. //"What?"//

Rentic's deferential voice said, //"Master Lupus, your parents are going into the dining room."//

Lupus looked down at the woman who was lying beside him, looking up with guarded eyes. He grunted in impatience. //"Very well. I'm coming."// He stroked Mozelle's throat, saying, //"Later tonight. Now we have to do our duties."//

They got up, and Mozelle began to help him into a fresh tunic. Venus said, //"All right, what do you mean not good for them?"//

Cupid leaned his shoulder against the wall, flexing his wings out of the way. //"Look, I know that there has to be a certain amount of pain and tragedy associated with love--that's just how the world is made. It doesn't mean I like inflicting it, or I don't avoid it where I can."//

//"What on earth would be wrong with the two of them finding a little happiness together?"//

//"Nothing, if there was ever a chance that something would come of it. The most she could ever be to him is a concubine."//

//"Many men fall in love with their concubines. They have lives with them as close and committed as any marriage."//

The two were leaving the room, and the God and Goddess followed. Cupid said quietly, //"But the point is that they usually have a marriage. Their wife stands at their side before the world. The mistress hangs back in the shadows, often with their children gathered about her, and the most she can hope for is to be set free upon his death, and she must pray that the executors of his estate will abide by whatever he wishes to leave them, or they may very well starve in the street. She comes from another place and time, and she can see that, Mother. Why can't you?"//

Venus found herself speechless. She hadn't thought of that. Oh, she knew that such things happened, but she was the Goddess of Love and Passion, and hadn't really considered that it was Love and Passion. Love without passion was not whole, but Passion without Love could be empty, and she saw now, even harmful.

//"All right, son--no more aphrodisiacs. Lupus will just have to do his own wooing from now on, and I will strengthen my petitions to Jupiter. I'm not sure if she'll actually fall in love with him, but she's bound to come to care for him. She's not the sort who can have sex with someone without feeling something for them. And the longer she stays, the stronger it grows, the harder it will be for her to leave. But Cupid," she stroked her son's arm. "I know that Lupus is seeing her only as a pleasant, desirable bedpartner right now, and he might never be able to completely get past the fact that she's a slave, he isn't callous. He's becoming very fond of her. If they are together much longer, he's going to hurt when she leaves."//

Mozelle once again sat beside a reclining Lupus, feeding him. Dramilla and Lucius made no comment, but they both watched the interplay between their son and the female slave. She was a little less stiff than she had been before, though she was still far from the seductive, playful manner many slaves would have assumed in her position. The parents weren't sure how they felt about this, while they wanted their son to be happy, and enjoy the adulthood gift they had given him.

Dramilla thought, *Cooler or hotter, either would be preferable. If she was more aloof I'd know she was just feeling the proper respect and affection of a loyal slave. Any more familiar, and I'd know it was just the infatuation of a slave for a handsome, charming master. But this... It's like she feels a deeper attraction to him, but she's fighting it. And Lupus...* She frowned as her son, while speaking to his father about the day's business, idly caressed the woman's throat. Mozelle's eyes were distant, but she leaned minutely into his touch. *Right now he's thinking of her as more of a pet than anything else. His father is right--we need to focus his attention on a suitable mate before he can become more attached.* //"Lucius, refresh my memory. When the Malum family attended our last party, they didn't bring their daughter, did they?"//

Lucius smiled inwardly. //"No, Celeste was indisposed that night. It's a shame, too. She's just started coming out into society, and Graccus said she was terribly disappointed."//

//"That's just really too bad."// Dramilla said casually. //"I believe I'll have her and her mother... Yes, and some of the other matrons and their daughters over in the next day or so for a little get together. Nothing elaborate--just wine and cakes. The dear things get so little opportunity to go out. Will you be able to spare Lupus for a few hours to help me entertain them."//

//"Yes, I think I can manage without him."//

Lupus, who had laid his head in Mozelle's lap, lifted it to groan and give his parent's a pleading look. //"Please, not that! Not a flock of chattering, giggling little girls."//

//"Lupus, mind your manners!"// his mother scolded. //"Besides, these girls are the ones from whom you will eventually select your bride. It's time you got to know some of them. You haven't seen any of them for several years now, and you might be surprised. They've grown into young women."//

Lupus sighed, flopping back. He drew Mozelle's hand up to touch his hair, and she obligingly began to stroke it. //"Oh, all right. But there's no hurry, is there? Most men wait till they are almost thirty to marry."//

//"Most of the nobility, Lupus,"// his father informed him. //"They can afford to wait, plan, make family alliances to build dynasties. We're not of that class. It would be better if you married soon, and to some girl who's family would benefit us in some way. I'll keep my eyes open for a suitable match."//

Mozelle listened to this exchange, understanding most of it by now. *Damn, arranged marriages? I mean, I knew they happened, but I always thought of it from the woman's point of view. It never really struck me that there might be a guy on the receiving end, too. And he doesn't seem all that upset by the idea. He's pretty accepting. Wonder what would happen if Mom and Dad tried to fix him up with a wealthy, connected girl who had a face that would look at home on a fourth head for Cerebus?*

Then she thought, *Crap! Wait a minute, what happens to me if he gets married? Do I revert to the family household? Do I become slave to him and her? He wouldn't sleep with me anymore after he got married, would he? I dunno, this time period seems to have a flexible attitude about fidelity, especially where it concerns someone who's not a full citizen. Crap, that would be just what I'd need--being the mistress of a guy with a jealous wife, who had control over me. Ouch!* An even more disturbing thought came to her. *What if she didn't object? God, I don't think I could stand to be viewed as a convenient marital aid, for her to push him off on me when she wasn't in the mood.*

She shrugged mentally. *He doesn't even really know any girls here. Nothing is likely to happen for months, if not years. No sense in worrying myself sick over it. It isn't as if I could do anything about it, anyway.*

Lupus reached up to push a grape into Mozelle's mouth, then held out his palm for the seed. //"I just don't understand why you're both suddenly so interested in my love life."//

//"I just want to see my grandchildren soon, while I'm young enough to enjoy them,"// said Lucian. As his son, still not sitting up, slid his arms around Mozelle's waist, his eyes narrowed, and he thought, *My legitimate grandchildren.*

Part Nineteen

Mozelle grew more and more uncomfortable as Lucius and Dramilla discussed the guest list of her upcoming get together. She felt a pang when she heard some girl dismissed as 'nice enough, but not really first choice'. The attributes of their families seemed more important than the girl's personality, though character seemed very important, too. Another was dismissed because she had attended a public play.

Perhaps even more disturbing was Lupus's reaction--or rather lack of reaction. He continued to play with her hair or stroke her arm and throat. The constant physical attention was distracting. It melded strangely with the disturbance that the, to her, cold blooded discussion raised. *He's just letting them plot his future for him. Doesn't it even bother him?*

//"Celeste, Beatrice, Mirica, Jullianna, Valentina, Constance. That will do for a start, I think."// Dramilla sounded satisfied. //"All from the best families, gently reared, carefully sequestered. Lupus, you'll be happy to know that these are all quite nice looking, some of them very pretty."//

Lupus grunted, pinching Mozelle's thigh gently. //"None of them more than sixteen, I'll wager."// He sighed. //"They're all so unformed at that age."//

//"Well, you'll be happy to know that some of them have actually been educated a bit."//

Lupus looked up, interested now. Education for Roman women was usually limited to domestic matters, or a bit of poetry at best. It was a widely held belief that mental stimulation and exertion could be physically bad for a woman. Consequently, it was usually only the higher class courtesans who could hold a conversation about anything but the most basic, boring subjects. //"Really?"//

Lucius broke in. //"Yes, Mallum allowed Celeste to share Celsus's tutors when he was young, and continued her education when her brother went to the acadamy. It is said that she is intelligent in an almost masculine way."//

*And he totally missed the way wifey just rolled her eyes.*

//"Well,"// Lupus got up, taking Mozelle's hand and pulling her to her feet. //"I may end up bored to death, but I'll do my duty. Good night Father, Mother."//

Dramilla watched narrowly as he pulled the woman out of the room after him. *She's perfectly capable of following on her own, but it's as if he can't stop touching her at every opportunity.* //"I'm beginning to get worried about that woman, Lucius."//

Lucius had been drinking, now he lowered his goblet to look at his wife. //"Why? Lupus seems quite happy with her."//

//"Too happy."// She sighed. //"Maybe we ought to get rid of her."//

//"She belongs to him. We gave her to him, remember?"//

//"We haven't filed the papers yet."//

//"Dramilla!"// Lucius put the goblet down sharply. //"That's unworthy of you."//

//"Oh, please, Lucius!"// she snapped.

//"No."// He poured more wine. //"Not yet, anyway. We'll see how things go at your get-together. If we can't settle on someone that we can all agree on, maybe then."//

*

In his room, Mozelle helped Lupus off with his tunic. //"You know how to undress self?"//

//"Yes, I can dress and undress myself. We aren't allowed personal servants at The Acadamy."//

//"Roughing it."//

//"Many masters would beat you for such impudence. I enjoy it, but don't speak to me that way in public."// She ducked her head, and Lupus took her chin in his fingers, raising it so that she looked at him. //"Mozelle, it's important. How a slave acts is significant to all citizens. Rebellion cannot be allowed, and respect must be maintaned. If I allow you to be rude in public... Well, a lot of pressure could be brought to bear on me to discipline you. I don't want to have to do that."//

She pulled away sharply, staring at him. *That's a threat. He may think of it as a caution, or a warning, but it's a threat. He just got through kissing me, and he's telling me to behave in front of the neighbors, or else.* //"How?"//

Now he frowned slightly. //"You don't need to worry about that if you just behave yourself."//

She scowled, then looked away. Her voice was acidic. //"Be a good little bed warmer."//

Lupus threw up his hands. //"I don't understand you. I'm just trying to keep you from getting into an uncomfortable situation."//

Mozelle's short laugh was unpleasant. She stared at him hard. //"I was born free. All my life, free. Like you. Now..."// She tugged viciously on her collar. //"No choice. Work, no choice. Eat, no choice. Come, go, no choice."// She looked at the bed, then back at him, and he was surprised to see the pain in her eyes. //"Sleep, no choice. Save me from discomfort."// Again she laughed.

Lupus reached for her, and she turned away. He hesitated, then slid his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. //"But I thought... Last night. Didn't you enjoy it? I felt you..."//

She was laughing again, a bitter chuckle. //"Oh, yes. Last night. Rape."//

His arms loosened in shock, and he didn't stop her when she pulled away from him. //"No, not rape."//

She regarded him, her expression ironic. //"No? Then what?"// She clasped her hands under her chin, her expression suddenly falsly bright, her tone sickeningly sweet. //"Love?"// When he didn't reply she dropped her hands, her expression normal again. //"Not love. I said no. I didn't want. Rape, even if I not fight. No rescue. Scream? No one come for slave. Why fight?"// Her tone was sharp. //"Might be 'disciplined'."//

His voice was soft. //"You really don't want to be with me?"//

She closed her eyes briefly. "God, you will never understand. I don't want to be here, I don't want to be now I--want--to--go--home. I want my safe, boring old life back."

"Can't give you that," he said quietly. "Not in my power."

"You could free me." He stared at her. "I could work for you to earn back my cost."

"We not have free servants here."

"Then I could work somewhere else and bring the money to you."

Lupus turned away from her, going to sit on the bed. "Come, sit." She folded her arms. His voice hardened. "Mozelle, sit!"

Her lips tightened, and she muttered, "Yes, master," as she sat.

"I don't understand. Why you so obstinant?"

"Walk a mile in my sandals." He gave her a blank look. "Imagine yourself in my position. You're snatched away from everything and everyone you know. Someone slaps a metal band around your neck and tells you that you are now someone's property. They make it clear that you will be used in any way they see fit, up to and including sexually, and you have no say in it. In fact, you probably should be beaten for presuming to even suggest that it might make a difference how you felt about the matter. How would you feel, Lupus?" Lupus stared at her. "You have absolutely no idea, and I don't think you ever could." She sighed heavily. "Just forget about it."

//"You're a strange woman, Mozelle."// He leaned over and pressed his lips to her neck. //"But such an attractive woman."//

Mozelle closed her eyes, and waited. She wasn't going to fight him, she knew that. She was so confused that she wanted to cry. *I should hate him. I should. I don't think I even like him--he's arrogant and just takes having whatever he wants, including me, for granted. But I'm not going to fight him, and it isn't really because resisting him could earn me pain, because I really don't think he'd beat me. I'm not going to fight him because... Oh, God, I don't know.* His hand had slipped down the front of her tunic, and his fingertips gently stroked her nipple, urging it to firmness. *That's part of it. Lord, no one has ever made me feel like this. Is it him, or am I just a slut, and I never knew it till now?*

He was nibbling gently at her earlobe now. She turned her head slowly, and his lips trailed across her cheek. She sighed and moved to touch her lips to his...

...and he pulled back. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He smiled, dropping a kiss on her nose. She started to lean forward again, and again he drew back, laying a finger against her lips. Then he pushed her hair aside and licked just behind her ear. Mozelle took hold of his shoulders and pushed him back. She studied him, and again moved to kiss him. He leaned away again, then nuzzled her cheek.

*He won't kiss me on the mouth,* she thought. *And I should be outraged. I should be pissed. But God help me, I'm just hurt.* "Fine." She pushed him away.

Lupus watched in surprise as Mozelle jerked her tunic over her head and pulled down her odd undergarment. Then she lay back on the bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. He touched her shoulder. "Mozelle?"

"Do it and get it out of your system. That's why I'm here, right? Get it over with."

He caressed her hair, //"What's wrong? Things were going so well."//

"If I have to explain it, you'll never understand. Go on and have your fun." He started to slide his hand over her belly. "I won't try to kiss you again."

He didn't stop, but he hesitated. He hadn't really noticed it, but he hadn't kissed her--at all. Why not? He touched her mouth, tracing the lines, noting that there was a sad droop that he hadn't noticed before. She had a beautiful mouth. He had imagined doing many things with that beautiful mouth, but it hadn't occured to him to just kiss her. You simply didn't kiss slaves, no matter how appealing they were. Sex was one thing, but kissing was another. Kissing was something to be done between equals.

He continued touching her, his hands moving over her sides, then down her thighs. She lay limp, unmoving. "Mozelle?" She turned her face away. The other night it had been so different. She'd been reluctant at first, but then she'd been so sweetly responsive. He moved his hand down between her legs, letting his fingers slide into the narrow crease. She shuddered. *Yes, this should work. She likes this.*

He sought till he located the little bud of flesh, then he rubbed. *Gently, but firmly. Slow, slow. Feel it firming. She's trembling. Her breath is coming faster.*

Mozelle closed her eyes, biting her lip. *Don't react. Don't react. Don't give him anything but a breathing lump. Damn, that feels so good. How can he know my body so well and not know me at all?*

Lupus felt a trickle of moisture. He slicked it over her now hard bud, making his fingers slide more easily. With his other hand he fondled her bosom, stroking and pinching gently. Then he slid his hand down farther, probing with his middle finger. She stiffened as his finger dipped in shallowly, then withdrew. When he probed again, her hips lifted of their oown accord, and he made a pleased sound. *So help me, if he smiles I'll hit him.*

He didn't smile. His expression was serious, and intent. He started to lie on top of her, but she pushed him off. "Mozelle, what?"

"Thing. That... that thing you used before." He looked at her questioningly. Her face flaming, the reached down and touched his erection. "Thing. Holder? Glove?"

"Ah! Sensible woman." He got up and went to his dresser. She watched as he dipped up oil from a dish and annointed himself, then slipped the funny looking, silvery sheath over his penis, then rubbed on more oil.

She grinned. He gave her a sharp look. "I'm sorry, but it looks funny." He frowned. She tried to make her face solemn, but she couldn't hold it--she giggled. Lupus tried to look stern, but found himself smiling, too. She was still giggling when he lay down between her thighs. She felt his weight settle on her, and before she could tense up he moved, sliding into her, and the laughter was cut off with a gasp.

*I thought it was going to hurt,* she thought, astonished. * No pain, no pain at all. Just a sense of fullness, heat, and friction. So good.*

It was as good as it had been the night before. She held him so tight, and it felt as if she were filled with melting honey. He tried to go slowly, but she moved with him, her little hands going up to glide over his back, and she made soft sounds, deep in her throat. He found himself going harder and faster, till he was lunging against her. He gripped her hips, pulling her up to meet each thrust. He felt it when she found her release. Her body clutched him even more tightly, pulsing and rippling as her climax moved through her. It drove him over the edge.

He grunted in pleasure as he made the last few, hard thrusts, emptying himself into the sheath, and he knew that he wanted to take her without the sheild. He wanted to really feel her, without the barrier between them. Surely the tea would be enough?

Lupus sighed, rubbing his lips against her cheek. She lay very still, and he suddenly realized that she was waiting for him to kiss her. He buried his face in her hair, stroking her flanks. He could feel her stiffen. He moved to her side, reaching to pull her into his arms. She moved quickly, standing up and donning her tunic. She reached under the bed and pulled out the pallet, spreading it on the floor.

"Mozelle?" he held out his hands.

She sat down on the pallet and looked at him. Her voice was toneless, but not quite steady. "It didn't change anything. Can you understand that? Even if I didn't fight, even if it felt good, it didn't change anything. I'm still somewhere I don't want to be. I still don't want to belong to you, or anyone. I'm still a slave, you're still an owner, and that's all it's going to be. Please, stop trying to make it anything more than that, because it could never be enough." Her breath hitched. "You can't let it be." She lay down, turning to press her face to her crossed arms.

Lupus looked at her for a moment, considering ordering her to his bed. He knew that she would obey, but the thought of having her lying beside him, but still so distant, made him feel a little cold. Instead he blew out the lamp on the table beside the bed and lay down. For a long time he listened. Her breathing was rapid and harsh for a while, but she wasn't crying--he could tell. Finally her breaths slowed and deepened, and he knew that she slept. Then he stared up into the darkness, wondering that he was lying awake because of a slave. *What does she want?,* he thought. As he drifted off he thought, *Why do I care?*

Part Twenty

//"Discordia?"//

//"What?"//

//"Don't snap my head off, girl!"// Venus crossed her arms over her spectacular bosom. She even allowed herself a frown (but a brief one, since they caused wrinkles).

//"Look,"// snapped the red-headed Goddess of Chaos, //"I'm orchestrating something complicated, here."// She pointed. //"That cat has to walk between that man's legs at exactly the right moment so that he trips and the tray of custard tarts lands on that bridal couple that's coming down the street. It has to hit both of them, so that the groom will be temporarily blinded by the goo, grab out for support, and rip his bride's dress half off her, giving most of Rome a good look at her tits before even he gets to see them."//

//"As much as I favor the public display of tits, we need to talk--now."// Discordia sneered and started shooing the cat toward the baker, who was paying more attention to the approaching wedding procession than he was to where he was going. //"Cordy, Jupiter finally got to my petition."//

That got her attention. The cat veered off toward a fish stall (an act that normally would have pleased Chaos, but she had her eyes on bigger disasters), the baker continued on to his stand, and the newly wedded couple never knew what a close call they'd had. // "And?"//

The aura of confidence did not fade, but there wasn't as much triumph in her voice as there should have been. //"He's considering it."//

//"Ha. Maybe I can still get that tray of tarts on the mother-of-the-bride."// She started off.

Venus did something that would have given the boldest man in the world pause--she reached out and grabbed the back of Discordia's robe, jerking her to a stop. The Chaos Goddess rounded on her, face pale and pinched, eyes flashing. //"Yes, I know what you can do to me. But you know what I can do to you, so just calm down and listen to me."//

//"Honestly,"// grumbled Discordia. //"When I'm trying to do my job, I get interrupted! Look, Vee, you know how he is. If he didn't make a snap judgement it could be decades before he does. Why are you bothering me?"//

//"I was hoping against hope to talk a little sense into you. Things are thickening on the Mozelle and Lupus front. His parents are plotting to get him married."//

Now Discordia smiled. //"Oooo, lots of good opportunities in weddings,"// she flicked a glance at the receding wedded couple, //"and marriage in general."//

//"That's not the point. What's going to happen to that poor mortal woman if her master gets married?"//

//"Now that's an interesting question."// Discordia leaned a hip against a fruit stand, casually knocking down a display of apples (one that had taken the vendor an hour to erect). //"What are the major possibilities? He moves into his own household, bringing her along, and she has to serve her lover's publicly acknowledged wife, maybe with a bastard kid sitting on her hip."// She snickered. //"The bride moves into his home for awhile, and she and the mother-in-law gang up on her. They sell her, probably to someone who isn't going to be as careful of her feelings."// Her eyes widened in delighted anticipation. //"Maybe they'll send her back to Tinactus on consignment! I bet if she had to go on the public auction block after whatever he did to her she'd snap!"//

//"You know, some of the philosophers think that Chaos is totally random and can't be considered either good or bad, but I could tell them--you are evil."//

//"This is my job."//

//"Has it ever occurred to you that occasionally something good could come out of the confusion?"//

Discordia blinked, looking surprised. Then her expression got thoughtful. //"That would keep the mortals off balance."//

//"C'mon, send her back. If you wait and Jupiter orders you, you might be in trouble. You know how much he enjoys meting out punishment."//

Discordia winced. Yes, she could remember a few instances that would make even a god or goddess think twice. But she was one of the most stubborn of the immortals, and she said, //"I'm not sending her back till she apologizes."//

//"Apologizes for sleeping on the mislabeled altar of a goddess she doesn't believe in, and probably had never heard of till she got dropped here?"//

//"Yes."//

//"Cordy, isn't that a teeny bit unreasonable?"// Discordia stared at her. //"Oh, right. Pardon me. Reason and logic aren't exactly your strong suit, are they?"//

//"Keep it up."// The vendor had the apple pyramid almost rebuilt. Discordia pulled one out of the bottom of the pile. She took a bite as the apples tumbled once again to the street and the vendor's colorful epithets filled the air. //"You're winning me over with your tactful flattery."//

//"Sarcasm is not attractive."//

"I'm not trying to seduce you. That's my final word, Vee. She apologizes, I send her home. Otherwise she can stay here till her grandkids are visiting her grave to lay flowers. Now if you'll pardon me..." She threw the half eaten apple, nailing a passing mercenary in the back of the head. He turned around and belted the citizen who was behind him. The man's wife cracked the mercenary over the head with the loaf of bread she was carrying. It crumbled, and the ever present pack of street urchins and dogs began to fight for it while the woman's eldest child kicked the mercenary and the youngest bit his knee. Someone grabbed the custard tarts from the baker's stand and started flinging them. In seconds the marketplace was in an uproar. Discordia nodded in satisfaction and flashed off.

Venus sighed, surveying the pandemonium, but despite her frustration and anger she couldn't repress a smile. The sight of that now thoroughly bewildered mercenary, face covered in goopy yellow custard while screaming women and children hung off him, pummeling and biting, was pretty funny. She'd have to direct Mars's attention to that family. She thought there had to be several potential warriors there.

But there was no time to stay and enjoy the show. Dramilla was having her 'get together' today, and SOMEONE needed to be there to monitor it.

*

Mozelle had been delegated the task of peeling the peaches that had been briefly dipped in boiling water. The skins had loosened, and slipped off fairly easily. Unfortunately the denuded peaches proved to be very slippery, and Mozelle had to do a juggling act several times to keep from dropping one. Malanda, usually so patient, scolded, //"Stop playing with them! I need to set them to macerate in wine, and if you don't hurry there won't be enough time before the guests arrive!"//

One of the slightly slimy golden globes squirted out of Mozelle's fingers, but luckily it landed with a plop in the bowl. //"Done."//

//"Here, let me have those. If I let you pit and slice them they'll probably find a finger in the fruit."//

Mozelle blinked. "What bug crawled up your butt?" When Malanda, quickly slicing fruit, frowned in confusion, Mozelle thought for a moment, then said, //"Tunic in twist?"//

Malanda hesitated, then sighed. //"I'm sorry, Mozelle. I didn't mean to snap. It's just that this is very important."//

//"What important?"// "It's a hen party." She rapidly pinched her thumb and forefinger together several times, imitating the rapidly working beak of a cackling hen. "Yadda yadda yadda."

The household, at least the ones who dealt with Mozelle on a daily basis, had become very astute at understanding her peculiar way of expressing herself. Malanda said, "Very important. Could be Master Lupus find wife here."

She regretted saying it immediately. Mozelle's expression stiffened. She grabbed up the bunch of mint intended to go in the peaches marinade and began to chop it almost viciously. Trying to soothe the woman's feelings, she laid a hand gently on her shoulder. "Mozelle, Lupus must marry."

"Why?"

Malanda was taken aback by the bald question, and she didn't really know how to answer it. People just got married--that was how it was, at least if you weren't one of the poor rabble. You got married for political reasons, financial reasons, social reasons, and, if you were very lucky, for love. It was different for slaves. Slaves couldn't legally be married, as they were considered property instead of persons. The masters had the legal right to dictate their slaves' lives. Many households forbade their slaves intimate relationships, feeling that their energy and attention should be focused solely on their duties. If you fell in love with a slave from another household, if you wanted to be together, there was the daunting task of finding time when neither of you were needed by your owners, especially since there was a curfew for slaves. Then there was always the chance that your lover would be sold away, or turned over to another slave for procreation purposes.

Malanda was well aware that her and Rentic's situation was a rarity. They were, to all intents and purposes, an old married couple, but they had no security but to trust in their owners' integrity. While Malanda often regretted that they had never had children, a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that at least she'd never had to worry about having a child snatched from her arms and sold.

Malanda sighed. "Is custom."

"Oh, well, now that you've laid out such a stunningly logical argument..." Mozelle trailed off. "Sarcasm is wasted when the victim doesn't understand enough of the language to catch the nuances. It's not your fault, Malanda, but I am not going to cheer up and be excited because they're parading the local blue blood breeding stock in front of the resident stallion. Me? Bitter? No, not much."

Malanda understood no more than a word or two of Mozelle's speech, but the girl's tone was clear enough--she was hurt and angry. She'd been forced into a position she hadn't wanted and now even that was being threatened.

As she spoke Mozelle had continued to chop, and the mint was in danger of going from minced to liquefied. Malanda gripped her wrist, stopping her, and she could feel the tenseness of the other woman's body. Mozelle wouldn't look at her, and the color was high in her cheeks. Malanda took the knife and said quietly, "Go. Play with Gaius. Hold Patenic." Malanda knew that it was with the children that Mozelle had made the strongest bond. Gaius still wasn't entirely accepting of the reality of slavery, and Patenic... Patenic was still an innocent who loved with his whole heart.

Mozelle relinquished the knife. Without a word she walked into the children's room, went to the bed where Patenic was lying on his back, staring up at the clouds painted on the ceiling and kicking her legs. Tessa and Gaius watched as she picked up the baby, sat on the bed, and buried her face against the infant's neck.

Gaius watched for a moment, then went and sat close beside her, putting his arm around her waist. "Mozelle, you lose flower?"

Her voice was muffled. "No, baby. My sanity, maybe. My dignity, possibly. But no flower." She looked up at him. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were moist. "And not my pride or self esteem, hon. Never that."

*

Rentic had spent most of the previous day arranging and cleaning the room where Dramilla was to hold her gathering. It was to be less formal than Lupus's manhood party, and he had removed one or two of the low tables and provided chairs as well as the sofas. In deference to the ladies who would be present there were bowls of fresh flowers, their scent supplemented by small pots of perfume hidden in strategic places.

Malanda, with Cassia's help, had prepared an array of foods that were considered refined and dainty enough for well born young ladies--fruits that had been adulterated from their natural state by soaking in wine or poaching in syrup, delicate cakes, tiny candies... Mozelle had surveyed it all and snorted. In a gruff, bossy voice she said, "Ah do declahr, Miz Scahlett! You-all cain't go gobblin' like a fiel' hand in front of society!" She snorted again and said in her normal voice, "I'm surprised all your post-pubescent girls aren't diabetic or anemic."

The gathering was scheduled for mid-morning, and the girls and their mothers began to arrive promptly. Everyone knew what this was all about. There weren't all that many eligible, respectable single men, and the competition was quiet, but fierce. Lupus--young, presentable, healthy, and of a fine old family, was a catch.

Lupus waited in the room with his mother. He was looking forward to the party now, but he was worried about Mozelle. She was standing near the door that led back into the house, waiting to be sent to bring in the refreshments, and she was watching the proceedings with a slightly acid, cynical expression. She'd been sullen and quiet since the night before. He had instructed her to give him a manicure before the guests arrived, and he felt no twinge when she scraped the pick under his nails to clean them, or used the file to smooth them. But her knuckles had been white, her head bent so that their eyes never met, and she muttered to herself. He thought he caught something like "classic torture method, something sharp under the nails, asking me to tart him up for those tarts..."

None of the room's occupants noticed the beautiful woman standing in the corner, or the pretty, but hard woman who appeared a moment later. Venus frowned. //"Discordia, don't you dare start anything here! I'm serious."//

The women started to arrive, and Lupus made his mother proud by greeting each new arrival with charm. He was a little disappointed by the amount of pointless giggling, but he supposed that couldn't be helped. Most of them would be no more than fifteen or sixteen, and unused to the company of any man but father or brother. Yes, things seemed to be going well enough till the Malums arrived. Rentic brought in Lydia Malum and her daughter Celeste--and her son Celsus. The bright smile Lupus had been wearing slipped. It didn't disappear entirely, but it went crooked, and it didn't reach his eyes.

Lydia bent to kiss Dramilla on the cheek. //"So kind of you to invite us, my dear friend! I do hope you don't mind that I brought Celsus."// She bent closer and whispered, //"I'm hoping that he'll settle on someone. He's of an age to marry, but no one has caught his fancy yet."//

Dramilla smiled graciously, privately cursing guests who brought unexpected extras. Still, there should be enough food, and she was confident that her son could outshine his friend. //"Of course he's welcome, dear."// She turned a more genuine smile on Celeste. //"I haven't seen you for ages, Celeste. My, you've grown into a young lady."//

*'Lady' is not the term I'd use,* thought Mozelle. *I didn't know they had invented bleaching back here. I've seen more natural hair on Barbie dolls. My time--hey, nothing unusual. Heck, it would be a teenybopper souvenir of a trip to the mall, but now? I think that's probably more familiar among the professional 'ladies'.*

Celeste Malum was a very thin, but fairly pretty, young woman, but her hair was the color of a Screaming Yellow Zonker, and probably just as natural. Her eyes were the same pale blue as her brother's, like milk poured over sapphires, and they quickly ran over Lupus in a distinctly un-virginal way. The smile she gave him was demure, though.

She spoke, rather than twittered, which was in her favor. As she gave her hand to Lupus she said, //"I'm so sorry that I couldn't attend your coming of age party, Lupus. Believe me, it wasn't from disinterest."//

//"I was devastated, Celeste,"// he said gallantly. There was a small noise behind him. *Oh, no, Mozelle! Please don't act up now. If you offend the guests I'll have to punish you.* But what might have been a snort changed into a cough. That was innocent enough that no one noticed. Well, almost no one.

Celsus's eyes, which had idly been roaming over the assembled girls, zeroed in on the woman at the door, and he smiled. She caught his glance and stiffened, looking away, which only made his smile broaden. He made a slight bow to Dramilla. //"I know this is an imposition, my lady, and you are gracious indeed to accept me so readily. I thank you."//

Dramilla softened. Celsus had a reputation as a wild boy, but so far he struck her as a well-bred boy. She nodded. //"You are welcome here, Celsus."//

Lydia made sure that she and Celeste took a sofa near Lupus, determined that her daughter should show up to an advantage among these others. Lupus was too polite to ignore the girl when she spoke to him, and gradually he found that she didn't seem so bad. She wasn't as obnoxious as her brother was, anyway. It never occured to him that women were just as capable of putting up a false front, and that they could court a man as well as he could court them.

Celeste was, indeed, pure--at least physically. She was shrewd enough to know that her virginity was her chief bargaining chip in life, and once it was gone she had little chance of making a favorable match. Lupus would suit her well enough, so she set out to charm him.

When it was time for refreshments Cassia, Malanda, Mozelle, and Rentic brought in the food and began to circulate. Mozelle had a bright, false smile, and Lupus winced when she bent down to Celeste, offering a bowl of fruit swimming in red wine. He heard her murmur, "Better hurry, Blondie, or this just might slip a-l-l over that pretty, dainty tunic of yours."

Celeste frowned prettily and asked Lupus, //"What is she saying?"//

//"She's offering you the fruit, Celeste."

Celeste pouted. //"You should teacher her to speak only when she's spoken to. Just talking to a citizen is impertinent."//

//"Lupus spoils her,"// Celsus drawled. //"He let her get away with assaulting two citizens who were doing no more than sporting with her."//

Celeste gasped, looking at Mozelle in horror, as if she expected to see horns sprouting from her forehead. //"And you didn't beat her? Lupus, you mustn't be so irresponsible! Why, if one of our slaves acted in such a manner they would not be able to walk for a week."//

Mozelle's eyes narrowed, the smile becoming thinner, and she murmured, "I bet you would." She bowed, beginning to step back, and the bowl started to slide from her hands.

Celeste squealed and jumped up. Mozelle had begun to right the bowel before the contents could slop out, tightening her grip, but the girl threw out her arms to ward off the spill, and instead caused it. The bowl flipped backward, and the majority of the contents went back onto Mozelle, soaking her from waist to toes. A few gouts splashed on the hem of Celeste's robe, and she danced away, trying to avoid the puddle running toward her slipper clad feet. In the process her foot came down on a peach slice. Her foot shot straight out, and she landed on her bottom right in the middle of the puddle.

Charm and demureness flew out the window, and humiliation and rage took their place. She screamed, //"She did that purposefully!"//

Celsus, looking highly amused, said, //"Don't be ridiculous, Celeste. It was an accident--anyone could see that."//

Rentic took the empty bowl from the now blank faced Mozelle, hissing, "Go! Clean self. Stay there, we finish."

She gave the fuming, splattered girl a bow and said apologetically, "You never looked better, sweetheart," then left.

Venus looked to where Discordia was sitting on the floor, laughing and holding her sides. //"Cordie..."//

Discordia held up her hands, but it was a moment before she could catch her breath. //"Was... wasn't me, Vee. If it was she'd have been wearing the bowl over her head."// Discordia wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. //"Okay, I will most definitely send her back if she apologizes. She's fed me enough energy and amused me enough to have earned a pardon."// Discordia blew her nose. //"But Vee, that may not happen in time."//

//"What do you mean?"//

Discordia stood up, dusting herself off. //"Something's about to happen."//

//"But her owners are accepting it as an accident."//

//"You don't think Dramilla really bought that, do you? Besides, considering what I noticed a minute ago while you were busy sniffing at my innocent enjoyment, I think Miss Mozelle is going to be doing something that can't possibly be interpretted as an accident."//

Suspicious, Venus said, //"What? What did you notice?"//

//"Something that no one else in the room seems to have noticed, either. I noticed that light haired horny bastard Celsus follow her out of the room."//

Part Twenty-one

"It was worth it. It was worth it. I'm an unholy mess, but it was worth it!" Mozelle muttered. She tried not to make a mess, but she still dripped all the way down the hall. She giggled softly to herself. *Ooo, the look on her face! I bet little ol' Celeste would have been a girlie-girl in my time. Wouldn't have worn jeans unless they cost eighty bucks. She'd have had a standing appointment with the hairdresser and nail techs. She would've spent more on a pair of dress shoes than I did on my first car.*

Malanda was busy garnishing a plate of poached quail eggs when Mozelle entered the kitchen. She glanced up and went back to her task, then her head jerked back up. //Mozelle! What on earth...?//

Mozelle picked her sodden tunic away from her legs. //"One of the guests got a bit clumsy."// She giggled again. //"You should see her. It shows up worse against white.//

Mandala clutched her head. //"Girl! Spilling the food on a guest? WHEN will you learn to be a proper slave."//

Mozelle's expression stiffened. "Never." She stalked off down the side hall toward the bathing room.

Malanda bit her lip, regretting her hasty words. *Poor child. Of course she hasn't learned her place yet, she's so new to it. But she must learn to accept it, she must! It could mean her life if she doesn't.*

Mozelle got her second tunic from Lupus's room and went on to the bathing chamber, still fuming. //"Crap. You'd think that a slave would understand."// She sighed, letting go of her resentment toward Malanda. //"She means well, but she told me she was born into slavery. She's never known anything else, so it's not likely she could understand my mindset. I guess I'm the only one in Rome right now who was raised in a society where there's no slavery.//

In the bathing room she stripped off the soggy tunic, letting it plop to the tiled floor, then got some soap. She stepped into the pool and gave herself a quick, but thorough wash. She dried sketchily, putting on her fresh tunic over still damp skin. She bent to pick up the soiled garment, preparing to take it out to the garden to wash it, but she hesitated. "Damn it, I'm not walking all that way when I have soap and perfectly good water right here."

Mozelle went to the shelf that held the bath supplies and examined them. The soft, almost liquid soap would be messy. It was a little slimy before you worked up some foam, and she just didn't feel like dealing with the unpleasantness. *Celsus was out there, and with him staring at me, my skin feels slimy enough. I'll use the hard soap instead.*

The hard soap was in a solid lump about the size of a brick. There was a small knife provided, and Mozelle shaved off a good handful. She knelt and dunked the tunic, stretched it out on the tiles, then began to rub the crumbling flakes into the material, working up a lather.

*

It wasn't hard to trace the slave's path. Celsus had only to follow the splatters of wine and bits of fruit along the passage. He passed the woman Lucien had bought at his son's manhood party. She gave him a curious glance, wondering why a guest would be wandering about in the private part of the house, but she said nothing. It wasn't her place, after all, but it was interesting. She couldn't help but wonder if the family would find some trinket missing after the party.

Celsus ignored the slave--she wasn't the one he was interested in. The trail led him to the kitchen, and he paused outside, peering in. There was another slave, a plump woman, busily feeding the fire that glowed beneath a bubbling pot. Beyond the kitchen he could see a small room, apparently the children's room, but the wine trail didn't go there. He studied the drops and realized that they came back to the door. *She doubled back here. I didn't pass her, so she must have turned off somewhere along the hall.*

He went back up the hall, and noticed something he had missed before--the trail turned off into a side room. He paused outside the door and cautiously peered in. He didn't want to alert his prey to his presence too quickly.

She was there. The woman knelt beside the bathing pool, scrubbing her soiled tunic. Luckily her back was to him, and Celsus took a moment to admire how white her thighs were below the short hem of her tunic. He thought for a moment, then slipped off his sandals and padded cautiously into the room.

Mozelle dipped the tunic in the pool, rinsing it thoroughly. She pulled it out and began to try to wring the water from the sodden cloth. "Damn itty bitty hands," she muttered. "What I need is a clothes roller. Screw that, what I need is a Whirlpool washer with a spin cycle."

She didn't hear him enter. The first clue she had was the shadow that fell over her. Mozelle assumed it was either Lupus or Rentic, come to scold her, and she really wasn't in the mood, so she ignored the presence.

He didn't go. Finally she sighed heavily and said, //"Yes, I know I should have taken it outside."//

//"It might have been more comfortable for you. I expect this tile will be much colder and harder than grass.//

She jerked around to find Celsus grinning down at her. Mozelle froze, then tried to relax and look unperturbed. *Show no fear--it only encourages the animal.* //"Is the party over and you lost your way?"// She pointed. //"The exit is back there."//

//"Well, I see that your grasp of our language has improved, even if your sense of your place hasn't. No, I've come to sample a different sort of hospitality."//

//"You have to be joking, and it's not funny,"// she said flatly.

//"No. I expressed an interest and Lupus, ever the good host, told me I had a free hand with you. Now, be a good little slave and take off that tunic. You won't need it for awhile."//

Mozelle stood up slowly. //"I don't believe you."//

He frowned slightly. //"Are you calling me a liar?"//

//"Yes,"// she said baldly.

//"And why wouldn't he offer you to me? Are you so special to him?"//

She felt a flare of pain, but said simply, //"Because he doesn't like you. At all."//

Celsus shrugged. //"Perhaps so, and he might be a bit angry, but it will be no matter. After all, who will miss one cup of wine from an already breached cask?"// He reached for her.

//"I would!"// She was still holding her sopping tunic, and she slapped it across his face--hard.

The heavy, wet material stung as it struck him, and he had a brief feeling of suffocation and blindness as the tunic plastered itself over his face. Mozelle seized the opportunity and darted for the door, sure that if she could get to other people he wouldn't dare press the assault.

Celsus clawed the fabric down with one hand, cursing, and grabbed at the fleeing girl with the other. He caught her tunic at the neckline and jerked back. The material, not as sturdy as that usually worn by slaves, ripped, but the force of the action spun her back so that she fell against him.

He wrapped his arms around her and began to drag her further into the room, away from possible escape. //"Oh, this is going to be a pleasure, slut! You won't walk or sit comfortably for a week when I'm through with you!"//

//"Braggart!"// She scratched at him, laying a line of raw stripes down his neck.

Celsus slapped her sharply. //"You're going to pay for that! When I'm through with you I'm going to beat you senseless. No official will condemn me after you marked me like this."//

Celsus shoved her against the wall, pinning her there with his body. Mozelle paled in revulsion when she felt a hard nudge at her hip, and realized that he was already erect. Her struggles were exciting him. //"Let me go or I'll scream the house down,"// she threatened. He responded by slamming his hand across her mouth, effectively gagging her. *Smart, Mozelle! Go on and warn him.*

Venus and Discordia appeared. Venus threw up her hands in anger when she saw what was happening. //The swine! That's a perversion of what should be the sweetest act in the world!"// She raised her hand and started to form a powerball, prepared to send Celsus to Pluto's realm.

Discordia, laid a restraining hand on her arm. "Wait, Love. You know we are admonished not to meddle with the mortals unless it is in our immediate sphere of responsibility. Let them alone." Discordia chuckled. "Besides, she's doing well on her own. She certainly isn't like one of those swooning milksops in the front room."//

Celsus was trying to work Mozelle's tunic up over her hips, but it was difficult when the wench squirmed so, and he had only one free hand.

Mozelle kicked at him, unable to do much with her bare feet. In her mind she was screaming. *This is not going to happen!* She bit Celsus as hard as she could, her teeth sinking into the soft pad of his palm till she tasted blood. He swore, jerking his hand away instinctively. Mozelle, remembering some advice she'd read in a self-defense article ('People may ignore screams of help or rape. Instead yell...') took a deep breath and screamed, "Flamma! Flammaflammaflamma!"

Celsus gave her an astonished look, but didn't stop what he was doing. She brought her knee up, but he was pressed so closely that it only reached his thigh instead of its intended target--his crotch. Again he swore. He grabbed her throat with both hands and shook her, bouncing her head off the wall.

There were footsteps and raised voices in the hall, but they weren't coming quickly enough. Her head was starting to swim, and it was very possible that the enraged man would choke the life out of her before anyone arrived. Mozelle threw her arms out, and her hand fell on the shelf that held the bathing supplies. She fumbled over wash cloths and the hard bar of soap, and then her hand brushed something cold and hard. Desperate, she clutched it and swung at her attacker.

Celsus let go, and she drank in a great, whooping gasp of air, her head immediately clearing. He staggered back from her a pace or two, gazing at her in utter astonishment. The small soap knife was driven into his left shoulder, blood blossoming from the imbedded point to stain his tunic. He touched it and drew his hands away. Looking down, he saw the blood smearing his hands. Then he looked at her again and whispered, //"You stabbed me."//

Her voice shaky, she said, "Big fucking surprise."

He fainted.

Just as he slumped to the floor the first people came into the room. Rentic was first, with Mandala not far behind, since the kitchen had been the closest room. They both stopped short, gazing at the scene before them. Mozelle, agitated, her tunic ripped, stood near the crumpled form of Celsus. A knife was stuck in his shoulder, and blood was beginning to puddle on the floor.

Mozelle heard the voice of Lady Dramilla, and closed her eyes for a moment. This would be just the excuse she'd be looking for to get rid of the troublesome slave. //"What is going on? I smell no smoke--I do not believe...// Her voice trailed off. //"By all the gods! What have you done, slave?"//

"Defended myself," she said quietly.

Dramilla took no notice, gesturing to Rentic. //"Check him, Rentic. I pray to Fortuan that he is not dead. We are all ruined if a slave of our house killed a citizen."//

Rentic bent to examine the young man, then looked at his mistress. //"He lives, Mistress, and is not likely to die any time soon. He's only fainted."// There was the faintest trace of scorn in Rentic's voice. //"The wound is not grievous. It may leave a scar, but nothing vital was pierced, and the blood can be easily stopped. A few stitches from a healer and a poultice, and he will be fine."//

They all heard the sound of a group of girls approaching, and Dramilla hurried to the door in an attempt to head them off. //"It was a false alarm, young ladies. Nothing to worry about. Go back to the front room and have a bit more wine, and I will be there when..."//

A small blonde girl pushed her way up to Dramilla. //"But lady, I am worried! There was the call of fire, and my brother is nowhere to be found. I am afraid he may have been injured, or..." She looked past her hostess, saw her brother on the ground, and screamed. Unlike her brother, she did not faint.

Instead her eyes focused on the slave woman standing near his body. There was blood on her hand. Celeste pointed, screaming, //"Murderess! She has killed Celsus!"//

//"He's not dead!"// Mozelle snapped. "I wasn't that lucky."

Dischordia chortled. //"I don't know why I didn't like this woman."//

Celsus came around, his eyes opening slowly. He quickly assessed the situation, then gave Mozelle a mournful look. //"If you did not desire to bed me, all you needed to do was say so."//

Her mouth dropped open at such a blatant lie, and she looked to the others to be sure they had noted it. She began to worry when everyone but a tearful Malanda returned hard stares. //"That's a lie. He tried to rape me, and when I fought back he tried to strangle me."//

Dramilla, her voice hard, said, //"There can be no possible excuse for injuring a citizen like this. Besides, a slave cannot be raped."//

Mozelle dropped back against the wall, stunned by the callous injustice of this statement. She couldn't find words to protest, at least no words that would penetrate the established concept of right to property that the Romans held. Angry, she pointed to the bruises forming on her neck. //"What about this? I'm not allowed to try to save my own life?"//

Dramilla looked at her coldly, and at last said, //"Not if it endangers a free man."//

Mozelle slowly slid down to sit on the floor. "The world," she said quietly, "is mad, and the lunatics are in charge of the asylum."

Lupus had been calming the girls who had remained in the front room, and had finally found his way to the source of the commotion. Rentic was just pulling the knife from Celsus's wound when he arrived. He stared at the tableau, stunned. Rentic helped the injured man up and supported him toward the door, saying, //"I will take you to Master Lupus's room--it is the closest, and a healer will be called."//

//"No!// Celsus protested. //"I can't stay in this house another minute while that slave is here. My home is not far. Call for a litter to take me home, and my family physician will see to me. Sister, help me."//

Celeste slipped under his arm to support him. As she left she glared at Dramilla. "You will hear more of this, my lady. My father will demand retribution for this foul attack on an innocent man..."// Behind her, Mozelle began to laugh weakly. //"And I advice you to keep close watch on that slave, lest you all be murdered. But it should not be long. I have no doubt that my father will seek her execution."//

Lupus went over to stand by Mozelle. He squatted beside the giggling woman, concerned. While the girls were whispering together about what sort of Fury could attack and near kill a man and then laugh, he knew that Mozelle was close to hysteria. //"Mozelle,"// he said gently, //"What happened?"//

She stopped laughing and sighed wearily. //"You know very well what happened. Celsus is not one to take no for an answer."// She looked at him sadly. //"Of course, neither are you. You're just gentler about it."// She cocked her head, studying him consideringly. //"I wonder what would have happened if I'd fought you?"// She touched the red mark on her cheek.

Lupus gave her a pained look. //"I would never hurt you, you must know that."//

//"Yes, well, remind me to look up the definition of 'hurt' the next time I find a Latin/English dictionary. Perhaps it means something different to you than it does to me."//

Lady Dramilla turned to her guests. //"Nothing I can say can express the sorrow I feel that you have witnessed such an act in my home. Please, ladies, I think it best that we end the festivities now. Please, go home, and know that this will be taken care of."// The left, murmuring together. When they were out of sight, Dramilla allowed her continence to fall into a scowl. The gossip would be spreading as fast as they could whisper. By tomorrow all of Rome would know that they could not even prevent a slave from endangering a guest in their home.

//"Lupus, put that thing in the shed outside, and be sure that you bar the door securely. She can wait there till judgment is past. We must wait on word from the Malums. They may claim the right to kill her themselves."//

//"But mother, she should see a healer, to be sure she isn't injured, and she was only defending herself. This isn't the first time that Celsus..."//

Lady Dramilla raised her voice, and act so rare that it halted Lupus's defense. //"She almost killed him!"//

//"She didn't!"// he protested. //"Not really. The wound is hardly serious, and when you consider that he must have been choking her..."//

//"Enough!"// Lady Dramilla made a visible effort to calm herself. //"Lupus I cannot credit that you are so besotted by this creature that you do not see what a danger she is to all of us."//

//"Mother,"// he said quietly, //"You bought her to protect Gaius and Patenic. Would you deny her the right to protect herself?"//

His mother was silent for a moment, then avoided the question. //"What if she decides to do the same to you the next time you try to bed her? What would it have hurt for her to let Celsus have his way and be done with it? He would have lost interest quickly."// Mozelle listened silently, shaking her head in disbelief, wondering what Dramilla's reaction would be if she suggested the same course of action to her in case a man attacked her. //"And it isn't just a physical danger, Lupus. This could very well ruin us socially. It could hurt your father's business. She has to be taken care of in whatever way the Malum's demand. Now, stop arguing and lock her away. I need to go and lie down. I have the most ferocious headache."//

Lupus sighed, and took Mozelle's hand, leading her from the room. As they walked he said, //"Oh, Mozelle. Why didn't you call for me? I would have stopped him."//

//"I did scream. I wasn't waiting around for a warrior to come and save me--it could have been too late."//

//"But stabbing him."//

"If I had a gun I would have shot him. If I had a club, I would have bashed him over the head. If I had a semi I would have run him down, then backed over him. I had a knife. I stabbed him. It worked."

They had reached a small shed in the back garden. Once it had held tools, but now it was a sort of playhouse for Gaius, containing a small table and chair. The door stood open, and Mozelle could see the brackets set on either side of the doorframe, and the stout board leaning against the wall. She stopped, round-eyed. When Lupus tugged at her hand she said, //"Wait a minute. You really intend to lock me in there? You're going to lock me up and then hand me over to whatever that vicious, lying bastard decides to do with me?"//

//"Mozelle, I have no choice. The law deals very harshly with slaves who injure a free citizen. I'll do what I can. I'll plead for you. I have a little property of my own. I'll offer that in exchange for mercy. It may not be so bad."// He didn't sound very convincing. //"I might only be a public flogging, as an example to other slaves, or perhaps a branding."//

"Oh." She nodded slowly. //"Well, then, what am I arguing about? If it's only a branding..."//

He wasn't expecting it. She tripped him, jerking her hand free as he fell, and ran. She didn't get far. She was trying to hop up high enough to grab the top of the wall when he caught her. He dragged her back to the shed while she struggled, silently but ferociously.

For the first time since he was a child, Lupus wanted to cry. Couldn't she understand how reluctant he was to do this? He had already prayed to every God he knew for her to be spared death. That was all he felt able to do. He could not sensibly ask that she escape all punishment. That just wasn't possible in his world.

He shoved her into the shed, wincing in sympathy as she stumbled against the table. Then he slammed the door and held it shut against her pushing and pounding as he dropped the bar into place. He stood back and listened to the drumming of her fists, his chest tight. *She's only a slave,* he told himself. *I can find a hundred like her at the auctions.* He closed his eyes in pain. *I lie to myself. She isn't just a slave, and there are none like her.* His voice hoarse with unshed tears he said, //"Mozelle, I'm sorry. I'll do what I can. Try to understand."//

The pounding stopped, then he heard her voice, faint and hopeless. //"You try to understand. This is my life, Lupus."// Her voice fell to a whisper, as if begging someone, anyone to understand. "This is my life."

Part Twenty-two

Mozelle slowly slid down to sit with her back to the door of the shed, staring into the darkness. *I don't believe this. Why can't I just be insane? It would be very comforting to think that I was actually sitting in a padded room somewhere, drooling down my chin and waiting for arts and crafts. But I couldn't be that lucky.*

She put her head in her hands. "I went to the museum. I just wanted to look at the Roman exhibit, because I liked 'I, Claudius' when it was on PBS. How the hell did I end up at this point in my life?"

She wondered if anyone had noticed that she was gone. Or was that right to use the past tense when referring to something that had technically not happened yet? She sighed. *It takes too much energy to worry about that. I have other, more pressing matters-like keeping my hide whole, because I don't think that Celsus is the forgiving sort.*

*

//"Malanda?"//

Malanda quickly wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her tunic. //"Yes, Gauis?"//

//"What's wrong? Mommy seems mad about something, and Lupus looks like he wants to cry."// The little boy frowned. //"Lupus NEVER cries."//

Malanda looked at the little boy, trying to decide how much she should tell him. If she left it up to the family there was no telling what he'd be told. She was torn. On the one hand, the truth of the situation would upset him. On the other hand he loved the quirky slave woman, and not knowing what was going on would distress him further.

She sighed, //"I'm afraid Mozelle is in trouble, Gauis."//

As she had expected, his expression puckered in concern. //"Is it what happened this afternoon? I heard all kinds of yelling, but Tessa wouldn't let me go and see."//

//"Yes. Do you know Celsus Malum?"// Gauius nodded, making a face. He hadn't had much contact with Malum-gently reared Roman children did not have a wide circle of acquaintances, but he knew that he didn't like or trust the man. //"Mozelle and Celsus got in a fight, and I'm afraid she hurt him."//

Gaius scowled. //"What did he do to her?"// When Malanda looked at him in surprise he explained, //"Mozelle would never hurt anyone who didn't hurt her. Celsus must've done something nasty to her."//

//"Maybe he did."// Malanda paused. //"He probably did, but the fact remains that Mozelle hurt him. She stabbed him."//

Gaius looked curious. //"Did she kill him?"//

//"Gaius!"//

He shrugged. //"She must've had a good reason."//

//"Not according to the law. Anyway, your brother had to lock her in your playhouse till it is decided what to do with her."//

Gaius thought. //"They could make he have no sweets for a month."//

//"Oh, Gaius,"// Malanda patted his head. //"I'm afraid the punishment will be much more severe."//

//"A year?"// Gaius didn't like the expression on Malanda's face-it was giving him a funny feeling in the pit of his tummy. //"Lupus could switch her. My tutor switched my hands when I put the frog in his wine."// When Malanda didn't respond he said fearfully, //"Malanda, what will they do? Will... will they send her to prison?"// Malanda had started to cry again. Gaius's voice was faint. //"Will they do worse than send her to prison?"//

//"Gaius..."//

//"No."// He shook his head firmly. //"They won't do that-Lupus won't let them. He loves Mozelle, like I do. He won't let them hurt her."//

//"I may not have a choice, Gaius."// Lupus was standing in the doorway, his face pinched and his eyes red-rimmed.

Gaius ran to him, throwing his arms around his brother's waist. //"Sure you do! You can do anything, Lupus."//

Lupus sat, stroking Gaius's hair and gazing at him sadly. //"Not this time, little brother."// He looked at Malanda. //"We received word from the Malums. Celsus isn't calling for her death."//

Malanda threw up her hands, her face flooded with relief. //"The gods be praised! Anything else can be overcome."//

Lupus's expression was stiff. //"Pater famillius Malum has agreed to follow his son's wishes in this matter, since he is the injured party. Celsus demands that ownership be turned over to him, personally."//

Malanda shook her head, covering her eyes with her hand. Gaius looked confused. //"She would have to go live with him? But she's our slave."//

//"Gaius,"// Lupus said gently. //"If I don't send her to him, he can demand her execution. It is his right."//

//"No!"// The little boy stamped his foot angrily. //"It isn't right! You tell him no, Lupus."//

Lupus gave Malanda a helpless look, but she turned away. //"I don't have any choice, Gaius."//

//"But you can't! I need Mozelle. Who will I sleep with when I get lonely?"//

Lupus stood up abruptly, his face pale and paced nervously for a moment. His eyes fell on a clay jar sitting on the shelf, and he took it down. Opening it he found the wild carrot seeds that he had bought from the apothecary. He stared at them for a moment, then hurled the jar into the fire. It smashed, and the seeds sent up a pungent aroma as they burned. //"He's sending someone for her tomorrow morning."// He started for the door, then paused, his back to Malanda and Gaius. His voice low, vibrating with pain and frustration, he said, //"I pray to the Fates that the wound turns septic, and they take him soon to Pluto's realm."// He left quickly.

*

It was crowded in the little shed, though Mozelle wasn't aware of it. After all, the other occupants were invisible to mortal eyes. Venus watched the dispirited woman who slumped on the floor, back to the door. //"Well, I hope you're happy, Dischordia. You have well and truly ruined that poor woman's life, and all for a trivial slight that she wasn't even aware she had committed."//

Dischordia shrugged. //"All right, so I over did it a little. I'm willing to admit that."//

//"Then send her back!"//

//"She still hasn't apologized."//

//"Cordie!"//

//Yes, all right! But I can't just zap her back."//

//"Why not?"//

The Chaos Goddess fidgeted. //"I'm... um, not one hundred percent sure where I got her from."//

Venus rolled her eyes in disgust. //"Well, that is JUST charming! Are we going to have to go bother the Fates into tracing her thread all the way back to where she came from? They're already pissed at the way things have gotten tangled up with it doubling back."//

//"No, that shouldn't be necessary. If I can get her back to the temple and in particular, back to the altar, I can sort of use it as a homing beacon to locate her proper time and place."// When Venus raised an elegantly plucked eyebrow at her she shrugged. //"Hades, I don't know exactly how it works."//

//"Fine.// Venus raised her hands, ready to transport them all to Dischordia's temple.

//"Hold it. We need to do this mortal fashion. It wouldn't do to let the mortals think that the gods were taking this close an interest in such a trivial matter."//

//"I hardly think that Mozelle considers it trivial. What do you suggest?"//

//"We get one of the household to let her out."//

//"Who? Lucien and Dramilla are out, of course. They're frantic to avoid scandal. The slaves are out because, as much as they'd like to help, they w ould endanger their own lives. And Lupus..." she sighed sadly, "I've already tried to work on him. He loves her, but it's all mixed up with duty to his parents, and he just can't quite get past the whole master/slave thing. Who else does that..."// She trailed off.

Dischordia grinned.

*

Old Tessa was almost beside herself that night, trying to comfort a sobbing Gaius. Patenic was too young to understand what was going on, but he sensed the tension in the family, and he, too, was fretful. When it came time for bed Tessa was exhausted, and felt that she'd be restless all night. It was just as well, she supposed, as she felt she should watch in case Gaius became more upset during the night.

She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Dischordia nodded at Somnus as he stood up from leaning over her bed. //"Well done."//

He shrugged. //"Please, as if she was a challenge. You want the other one out, too?"// He eyed Cassia, where she lay across the door leading to the kitchen.

//"Of course. It wouldn't do to have that wench catching our hero about his work."//

Somnus bent over the woman, passing his hand near her face. Her eyelids fluttered, and soon she was snoring lightly. //"She was already dozing, but now she's in a nice, deep sleep. It would take a Macedonian elephant stampede to wake her up."//

//"Good. Now for my work."// She rubbed her hands together, grinning. //"This is an odd situation-I'm going to cause a good bit of dischord by rectifying another bit of mischief."// She bent till her lips were close to the quietly crying Gaius's ear. //"Listen, little mortal. It isn't right, is it?"// Gaius shook his head at what he believed to be his own thought. //"They can't send Moozelle to that rotten man. He's a monster. He'll treat her badly, and hurt here. You can't allow that!"//

Gaius's tears stopped, and his little jaw set with determination. //"The only thing possible is for her to run away! That's it! She's clever, she'll be able to get out of Rome, and maybe she can even get back to whatever strange place she came from. She just needs someone to let her out of the shed. Look, Tessa and Cassia are asleep."//

Gaius peeked at the two women. Yes, they had to be asleep, the way they were snoring. He crept out of bed and pulled on his tunic, then tiptoed to the door that led to the back garden. Tessa had bolted it before she went to bed, just as she always did, and he carefully slid the bolt back, trying not to make any noise.

He wasn't used to being outside alone at night, and he hesitated. Then he squared his shoulders manfully. Mozelle needed him-this was no time to be a baby. He crept over to the shed.

Mozelle had dropped her head down on her knees. Venus watched her sadly, hoping that Dischordia's plan would work. The Chaos Goddess appeared beside her. //"He's on his way."// She studied the huddled woman and said slowly, //"You know, through all this I've never seen her really look despairing, till now."//

Venus looked at her sharply. If she hadn't known it was impossible, she would have thought she heard compassion in Dischordia's voice. //"This has to work. I truly fear that if she is turned over to that monster she will summon Thanatos."//

There was a tiny tap on the door. The woman didn't move. It came again. "Mozelle?"

She lifted a tear streaked face, and her voice was disbelieving. "Gaius? Oh, honey, go back in the house. You shouldn't be out here." Her voice choked. //"I don't want you to see me like this."//

"Sh, Mozelle. Wait."

She heard a scraping, then a breathless grunt. Then she heard Gaius say a swear word that he really shouldn't have known. "Gaius!"

//"I'm sorry, but this bolt is heavy, and it's so high up. But I think if I stand on tip-toe..."//

Suddenly galvanized, Mozelle jumped to her feet just as she heard the thud of something heavy hitting the grass. The door swung open, spilling moonlight into the shed, and the two goddesses exchanged pleased smiles.

Gaius threw his arms around Mozelle, saying fiercely, //"You won't go to him! You'll run away, and find your home, and live a long, long time, and be happy!"//

Mozelle dropped to her knees, hugging the little boy. //"Oh, God, baby, I'm gonna try. At least I have a chance, thanks to you."//

Gaius buried his face against her shoulder for a moment, then whispered, //"I wish Lupus had done this instead of me."//

Mozelle closed her eyes. //"Me, too."//

//"I think he's scared, Mozelle. I didn't know grownup men got scared."//

//"They do, baby, all the time. It's just real hard for them to admit it."//

He clung to her. //"You have to go."//

//"I know."//

//"You have to run far away. I won't ever see you again."// He pulled back a little, gazing at her. Then he leaned forward and dropped a sweet, gentle, child's kiss on her lips. //"I love you, Mozelle."//

She remembered all the times Lupus had turned aside from her kisses-turned aside with what she knew had been at least the beginning of love in his eyes, and experienced a wrench of pain that she had thought herself too numb to feel. //"I love you, too, Gaius."// She kissed his cheek, then stood up. //"Tell your brother... Tell him..."// She sighed. //"I just wish we'd met in another place and time. Maybe then there would have been a chance. Now, go inside. You shouldn't watch me go. That way you can tell them that you don't know how I escaped, and you won't be lying."//

She watched till the little boy had gone into the house. Then she forced herself to go back into the shed, getting the chair. Remembering her earlier futile efforts to jump up and catch the edge of the wall, she climbed on it, them managed to haul herself over.

When she dropped into the lane behind the garden, she wrenched her ankle slightly. Not enough to hobble her, but as she hurried away, it began to ache, and it got worse as she went along.

She had no idea where she was going. She thought that she should try to get out of the city, because they would probably raise an alarm when they discovered her gone the next morning. Then there were the patrols to worry about. The city guards roamed the streets in pairs, keeping the peace, and they'd naturally stop any slave they saw out alone at this time of night.

Mozelle never knew how close she came to being captured that night. But every pair of guards that neared her suddenly found themselves feeling compelled to turn down a side street, whether it was on their route or not. Venus and Dischordia had commandeered several other gods and goddesses to keep the authorities away from Mozelle as she limped her way through the darkened streets. Dischordia followed the woman, whispering suggestions about direction at every cross street.

Mozelle was dismayed to see that she seemed to be going deeper into the city. Then she noted two guards approaching. They were at the end of the street, and hadn't spotted her yet, but she knew she had to hide, and quickly. There was a large, open sided building nearby, and she darted into it. She quickly hid behind a large, square stone and waited till the men had passed, then crept out cautiously and looked around.

She had enough Latin now to read the inscription on the altar. "Dedicated to the worship of Dischordia, Goddess of Chaos." Her eyes widened, then she gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Oh, isn't that just fucking typical of my luck! No wonder my life has been so screwed up." She gazed upward. "Hey, Dischordia!" Dischordia appeared behind her altar, watching Mozelle expectantly. "Goddess of Chaos, huh? I thought that altar I slept on was dedicated to Hestia. I never would have laid down on it if I'd known it was yours." She paused. "That is, if I had believed in you." She sighed. "I dunno. I guess there has to be SOMETHING to it, considering what happened. Look, whatever it was I did to piss you off, I'm sorry, okay? Could you just call off the dogs for a little while? Give me some breathing space? I'd really appreciate it."

Somnus appeared at Dischordia's side. //"Well, Cordie?"//

Dischordia nodded. //"She's met the requirements. It wasn't really all that humble, but it was an apology. Put her to sleep."//

Somnus exerted gentle force on the mortal woman. Mozelle yawned hugely. "Oh, no. No way. I have to go. I have to get into the wind." Even as she muttered this she was stretching out on the stone slab, and closing her eyes. She whispered, "Maybe if I say 'there's no place like home' three times... There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no... place... like..." She dozed off.

Dischordia bent over her and said softly, //"All you had to do was ask nicely."//

*

"Lady?"

Mozelle curled up tighter, moaning slightly. Damn, it was cold. It had been so warm when she'd fallen asleep. She remembered how stifling it had been in the confines of the shed.

*The shed! I'm supposed to be running away! Oh, Jesus, I fell asleep. How could I fall asleep?! Who found me? Please, God, don't let that be a guard!* She cracked one eye open warily.

There wa a small group of people standing in front of her, gaping. All of them except the man in front, that is. He wore some sort of a uniform, and was frowning. "Lady, get down off that right now! That's an antiquity, you're not even supposed to be behind the velvet ropes! If you damaged it, you'll be in a lot of trouble."

Without thinking she replied faintly, "It's solid stone and probably weighs a ton. What could I do to it?"

The man's eyes narrowed, and he started to reach for the walkie talkie that hung from his belt. Someone pushed their way to the front and laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Scusa, signore. My girlfriend, she is sick."

Mozelle and the guard both looked at the young man in surprise. He shrugged, smiling apologetically. "She said she was, um... nauseante. You know," he made an eloquent gagging sound, clutching at his throat. "Whoopsie. She said she was going to sit down, but she was light headed, yes?" He unhooked one of the velvet ropes before the guard could protest and went to where Mozelle was sitting up on the edge of the altar. He reached out and caught both her hands in his. "Bellissima, I'm sorry I didn't come with you. Are you feeling better now?" His back to the crowd, he squeezed her hands and winked at her.

"I... Yes, much better."

"Magnifico!" He gently helped her down off the altar, putting an arm around her shoulders, and began to help her away from the altar.

She found herself staring at him mutely. There was something very familiar about him, but she'd never met anyone from Italy. Well, no one from this century, anyway. As they walked past the still suspicious looking guard her escort gave him a charming smile. "Thank you so much for finding her for me. I will tell the people back in Italia how helpful and kind are the Americans at this wonderful museum."

Now the guard looked a little smug. "It was nothing. Are you sure you're okay, lady?"

"I think..." Mozelle pinched herself on the arm, hard, and yipped quietly.

The guard was back to gaping again. "Why did you do that?"

"To be sure I wasn't dreaming. Usually I hate the whole 'it was all just a dream' thing, but in this case I'm willing to make an exception."

They walked out of the Roman exhibit. Once they were away from the crowd Mozelle took a good look around. It was the museum, all right, looking exactly as she remembered it, except that workers were beginning to carry crates out of the room they'd just left, breaking down the exhibit.

Mozelle glanced at the man who held her arm, and stopped walking. He looked at her questioningly, then smiled. "Yes, we should talk. Here is a bench, more comfortable than your last bed, I think." They sat down and he said, "They were not going to let anyone into that exhibit this morning, but I slipped in." He shrugged. "I was feeling a little homesick. This is my first time away from Italia. You know, I thought you were part of the exhibit till the guard started to make a fuss."

"Part of the exhibit?"

He nodded. "Yes, like your Williamsburg? I have been there, too. It is fascinating, to see the people in their costumes, working as the colonists did. I thought that you were portraying a slave girl." He cocked his head. "The costume is good, except that the tunic is very short."

"I think he liked to look at my legs," she said absently.

"I do not know who 'he' is, but I cannot blame him." Mozelle looked up sharply at the flirtatious tone. "The collar is especially authentic." He touched the metal circlet with one fingertip. "How do you get it off?"

"I suppose it will by by a locksmith." She studied him more closely. In his twenties, dark hair, dark eyes, handsome. "You look so familiar. Have we met before?"

"Alas, I fear not."

She found herself chuckling. "Alas?"

He smiled again. "What can I say? I am Italian, sometimes the romance comes out. Since there is no one to introduce us, will you tell me your name?"

"I'm Mozelle."

"What a beautiful name. Mo-zell-eh. It flows off the tongue. I am..."

"Wait." *Thisiscrazythisiscrazy.* "Your name wouldn't happen to be Lupus, would it?"

His dark eyebrows rose in surprise. "No, it is Luka. But my friends call me Lobo. Perhaps we have met?"

"Perhaps."

He nudged her arm teasingly. "In another life, yes?"

Mozelle glanced wonderingly back toward the room she'd, apparently, spent the night in. "Yes," she said softly. The altar, on a cart, was being wheeled out. She kept her eyes on it as it passed, then disappeared around a turn into another hallway. She looked back at Luka *Lobo?* "In another life."

"Mozelle, I know you do not know me, and a woman must be careful these days, but..." He looked down at his hands, suddenly shy. She found herself smiling. He'd been so glib up till now. "Like I said, I am far from home. I moved to America two months ago, and I have made some friends, but..." he shrugged. "Would you like to have caffe with me?" He looked back at her. "I think I would like to know you."

She watched him thoughtfully. "Tell me, how do you feel about slavery?"

He looked puzzled, but willing to discuss any topic she found interesting. "It still exists in some parts of the world. It must be wiped out."

"You don't think it's an acceptable practice?"

"I... No!" He looked flustered. "What do you think?"

She laid her hand over his. "I think that maybe second chances aren't mythological after all."

END