The Songs of Slaves (28 page)

             
The blood drained from Lucius’
face. He took a deep breath, turning his back on Connor, and then made his way back to his seat. He took a draught of wine as he rocked back in his chair, gazing into the flickering lamplight.

             
“Is she badly hurt?” Montevarius said at length.

             
“She lives,
Dominus
. I do not know how bad her injuries may be. But she is deeply distraught.”

             
“Naturally enough,” Montevarius said. There was
a weariness
in his voice, but a lack of conviction that urged Connor further.

             
“There are more victims,
Dominus
. Melinda has a man – a husband, if you will – a man named Brontius. He is a man born to your property, and one of your most loyal and hard-working slaves. Melinda is his woman, and so this crime is a crime against this man as well. Two of your loyal subjects – slaves who look to you as their master and provider – have been harmed by these malicious actions.”

             
Lucius Montevarius turned and looked Connor in the eye.

             
“Thank you, Connor. Your words have been noted. I will look into it, and I will speak with my son.”

             
Connor hesitated, not knowing whether to say anything further to make his case, or to just trust his Master’s judgment and withdraw. He did not have a chance to decide.

             
“Speak to me about what, F
ather?”

             
Lorentius strode into the room. The lamplight seemed to shine on his eyes and his teeth as he smiled
–
an expression that was at once conciliatory and mischievous. He no longer wore his scarlet cloak, and he had straightened his clothes. Though he was safe within his house, he still wore his sword.

             
“You would like to speak to me about what?” Lorentius repeated. He glared at Connor, but Connor did not back down.

             
“I do not know that this is the time or place for it, my son,” Lucius said evenly. “We should speak in private.”

             
“Oh? Well, you speak in private to this shit-eating slave about me, so what would you have to say that he shouldn’t hear? It seems that we have no secrets from him, dear Father. So what vile lies was he telling you about me? I am very curious to hear what slander our beasts have about me this week? Stolen your bread? Fucked your women? Eaten your babies? What is it, barbarian? With what filth do you attempt to draw my own father away from me?”

             
Connor steeled himself and di
d not turn away from Lorentius’
malevolent stare.

             
“You know what you did.”

             
Lorentius swung, back-fisting Conn
or hard across the jaw. He slammed
his knee into Connor’s body before driving into him with repeated punches until Connor lost his footing and fell. Connor covered his head, struggling to suppress the urge to fight back as the pain shot through him. He must make room for the Master’s justice. Lorentius reached for his sword hilt, but seemed to think better of it. Crossing the room in three powerful strides he took hold of the fireplace poker. He raised the iron bar over his head as he charged back towards Connor.

             
“Stop!”
Montevarius shouted. “Stop this m
oment, Lorentius!
”

             
But Lorentius did not stop until he had brought the tool down hard across Connor’s back. He reared back again, but Lucius grabbed the poker and wrenched it out of his son’s hand. Lorentius kicked Connor in the gut before moving away.

             
“You want to listen to your little slaves before you listen to your own son?” Lorentius spat. “Are they going to carry on your name, or revere you when you die? You want to heed their lies at the expense of your own flesh and blood?”

             
“Silence, Lorentius!” Lucius thundered. “Hold your tongue! Enough of this show of temper and unmanly indecorum! I will not question you in front of my slave and within hearing of the prying ears in the hallway. We will discuss this matter as men, in private and with patience.”

             
“What is happening?”
Lucia
cried. Connor looked up to see her standing over him, spreading her arms protectively. The rage
seemed to wash from Lorentius’
face, leaving a look of shamed resentment and he took a step back. He, too, had not seen
Lucia
enter the room and did
not know how much
she had seen.

             
Lucia
crouched down beside Connor, one of her arms stil
l raised to ward off Lorentius’
blows. She placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder as if that alone could heal him. Connor looked up at her distressed face and drew strength from the compassion in her eyes.

             
“It is alright, little sister,” Lorentius said, changing his tone. “Everything is alright. Go along now. This does not concern you, my little bird.”

             
“Do not hurt him,”
Lucia
pleaded. “Whatever it is, I am sure that he did not mean to do any harm. Father, please go easy.”

             
“It is alright,
Lucia
,” Lucius said. “Everything is in hand.”

             
Lorentius walked over and took
Lucia
by the hand gently lifting her to her feet. He moved to escort her out of the room, but
Lucia
stopped him.

             
“Not until you promise not to hurt him any further!”

             
A ripple
of annoyance crossed Lorentius’
countenance, but was quickly replaced by the placating mask of the indulgent older brother.

             
“If it pleases you,” Lorentius said, forcing a smile. “I think this corporal punishment is met out and perhaps we can move on to discipline you find less offensive.”

             
Lucia
hesitated, glancing back to Connor and then to her father. She then allowed herself to be led.

             
“I’m sorry that you had to see any of this,” Lorentius said. “Young ladies should not have to be concerned with such matters.”

             
“Please, Lorentius. I know that you are angry with him, but he is a good man.”

             
“Leave this to Father and
I
, my dear. We will take care of you. You do not need to worry about the management of slaves. Go back to your room, and I will come up to check on you anon.”

             
“Yes, go
Lucia
,” Lucius said. “All is in hand.”

             
Lucia
took one last look at Connor, who still was curled up on the floor. Reluctantly, she closed the door behind her.

             
“You have upset your sister,” Lucius accused.

For once Lorentius seemed to take something to heart.
Lucia
’s intervention had taken the momentum from his rage, and now he was silent. But as Connor climbed back to his knees he could still see bloodlust in the young man’s face. Connor then realized that
Lorentius had set him up. He had wanted to give him something to come to the Master with. He had wanted Connor to give him a reason. This was all a sick joke.

             
“Are y
ou al
right, Connor?” Lucius Montevarius said. He reached down as if to help, but then seemed to remember his place at the last moment.

             
“Yes,
Dominus
,” Connor said, wiping blood out of his face.

             
Lucius stood up straighter. Lorentius remained quiet, carrying on a show of seething in anger, though his real emotions were unreadable.

             
“Connor, I will talk with my son,” Lucius said. “I forbid you to mention anything that has been said or done here this evening to any of the other slaves. It is not your place. If you do, you can rest assured that you will be disciplined. As for the offense, I am full of regret that it ever happened, and yet there are a few things that I must remind you. You are a sensitive and philosophical soul, but you must remember that these sentimentalities do not always carry over into practical life. If my son has overstepped his ethical bounds in his treatment of this female slave, as you say, he has not in
fact overstepped his legal bounds. Even as charged, he has committed no wrong-doing, as the slave was mine and by extension his. In the same way
, the woman’s union to the man
–
”

             
“Brontius,” Connor said. “His name is Brontius, and her name is Melinda. They are not objects; they are your loyal dependents.”

             
“He makes them sound like they are your children,” Lorentius smirked.

             
“Be still!
Both of you.
Connor, do not interrupt me again. I am your
Dominus
by right and by oath. This Brontius is a slave and has no legal right to marry, and therefore such a marriage has no legal protection. This man has no say in what happens with this woman, and it cannot be established that a wrong to her was a wrong to him, or even that there was a wrong done; as a man has a right to do what he will with his property.

             
“Moreover, your attitude in coming here to accuse, appeal, and answer without regard to your place is inappropriate. I fear that I have been too lax with you and encouraged you over much; but the actions of your masters are out of your scope to challenge or restrain.”

             
Connor stared at Lucius Montevarius.

             
“You are dismissed. We will work together again tomorrow, and if we have occasion to speak let it be of better topics.”

             
Connor struggled to his feet and again wiped blood from his face. He was aghast and had no words. Without bowing he turned and stumbled out of the room. Lucius and Lorentius began a heated discussion even before he had closed the doors. In the hallway the domestics were hovering, looking at him with different expressions ranging from pity to amusement. He walked by them, saying nothing, not even registering the faces of the men who had shared his work in the cellars or the women who had shared his bed. He pushed past them all, and finally past the armed
bucellarii
who had returned when the sounds of commotion had echoed through the halls.

Connor threw the doors open and strode out of the villa. The sun was setting. Thought began to coalesce once more, churning furiously, flowing like the images that Maximus etched in the dirt. Montevarius was talking to Lorentius, bringing him to heel as best as he could presumably. But the truth was
clear. Montevarius was intent on ruling over him, content to live his life as his ancestors always had. Lorentius on the other hand was clos
e to murdering him; and would not
be happy until Connor was maimed or killed. In the meantime, that child of Satan would go on to hurt whomever he wanted however he wanted, with any connection of his victim to Connor being an added benefit.
Lucia
would marry in the spring and go on to live her life, sacrificing to her secret goddess and praying for something better. Maybe Connor would see her now and again.
Maybe.
He was walking down the path, walking towards home, where he would find his friends in sorrow. He would tell them what had happened, despite the threats. What would they say? They would all drink and curse their misfortunes, but then what? They would all just go back to work in the
morning. The image of Maximus’
etchings played out again in Connor’s mind – the flow of things, the flow of life, power, and fate. He looked up again at the sun setting over the hills, just beyond the stone walls of t
he estate. Connor began to walk faster, then to
jog
, and then to run
through the arcades of trees and toward
s the wall. He was at a full sprint
as he crossed the wooden bridge. He did not notice the few that saw him, or even
stop when he was challenged. He ran faster until he reached the wall, and then leapt. Grasping the rough-hewn capstones he scrambled up and then over; and as the sun dipped behind the hills he landed on the other side.  

Connor jumped up, scattering the leaves and bracken that had covered him. He was in a low ditch, just a dozen paces from the side of the now-deserted road. It was first light. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushing through the entangled small twigs and dirt. The dream had been so lifelike, so pressing, that he still felt as if he could not catch his breath. His heart galloped in his chest, even as the memory became intangible in the gray light. In his mind he had been on the ship again
–
the first slave ship with the men who destroyed his village. But Lorentius had been there as well, at times taking the place of the narrow-eyed man. Grania was there too, and though in the dream she was a gray corpse she still spoke to him
–
though he could not remember what she said.
Lucia
had also been there, huddling in the back of the boat praying for protection from the murderers who raped the captives.