The Songs of Slaves (40 page)

He shook the thought off as he surveyed the room in the gray light of dusk. There was a massive bed in the center
, draped with thin muslin
to keep the
biting
insects away. Beside this there were two large wardrobes. In the opposite corner there was a writing desk and chair, though no signs of any books or parchment. Near the door was a dresser with a washing basin on top of it. Though the slaves had cleaned it, as they did every day, the room had a distinctly lived-in feel; as if
Lorentius
could return at any moment. It almost smelled like him, and the small items lying around the place gave testimony to the nature of their master – reminders to Connor of the young man that
had persecuted and pursued him until the day that Connor struck him down.

Connor strode towards the double doors that led out to the small terrace. He glanced out, ignoring the table and two chairs that stood near the iron railing and taking in the lay of the land beyond. It faced west, the direction of any flight. The terrace was one of the features for which Connor had picked this room as he was quickly looking for a place to shelter
Lucia
and himself before the Goths might have any untoward change of mood. The second reason was that it was a corner room, and so Connor reasoned it might offer slightly better options in case he had to make
a swift
escape. But all this was completely unclear now. Go
d, he needed some time to think!
He shut the doors on the terrace and drew the bolt.

Lucia
was still weeping as he approached the dresser. There was water in the pitcher. He poured some into the bowl and began trying to work the blood off of his hands. When this had been accomplished at least to some level, he opened the drawers and found some new clothes he could put on. He turned towards
Lucia
, but the girl’s face was buried in her hands and
she did not seem to be watching him at all. There was no sense in being shy – whatever happened, she would be seeing a lot of him over the next few days. He stripped his clothes off and washed off with the rest of the clean water. As he scrubbed his body with a wet cloth he looked himself over. He had been scratched and cut by his escape through the forest, and bruised by the beating sev
eral days ago and by Merridius’
surprise attack; but of the two battles he had fought in two days he had hardly a scratch. He was born for this – born to fight. Why had he fled from it for so long? After hastily drying, he pulled on
Lorentius
’
tunic and breaches. Though the cool tiles felt good under his tired feet,
he pulled a pair of riding boots on
and refastened his baldric. He had to be on his guard.

Golden light shone on the walls as Connor lit the lamp. He crossed the room to the bench and sat down beside
Lucia
.

“
Lucia
,” h
e said as gently as he could, but
Lucia
would not answer him.

“
Lucia
,” h
e said again, resting his hand on the sobbing girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!”

Connor stood to his feet, not sure what to do next. At first it seemed that she would say no more, but then she seemed to collect herself enough to look up at him.

“You brought them here!”
Lucia
accused. “It is because of you that my father is dead!”

“They came here on their own. They were marching this way long before I ever ran away. I only came back to protect you. And protect you I have.”

“Liar!
Why would you want to protect me? You hate us. That is why you ran away. My brother went to bring you back, but that man you ride with killed him
!
”

“
Valia did not kill your brother,
” Connor said.

“You are a liar! He did. I would recognize my brother’s sword anywhere. He loved that sword. You run away and then he rides off to find you. Days later you turn up with a gang of murderers and one of them has my brother’s sword. You think that I cannot see what this is? You have brought these men here for revenge. Are you going to rape me now? Is that it? Or
did you think that now that y
ou are here all big and acting important
that I am going to just lie on the bed and give myself to you? Isis
curse
you! You are no better than those men down there. You are a wolf and a barbarian! My father was a fool to love you as he did.”

At the mention of her father,
Lucia
’s vehemence flickered and she began to weep once more. Connor stood, momentarily speechless.

“Listen to me and li
sten to me well,
” Connor said finally. “I will not stand here and argue with you, nor will I answer you as a slave – no, not ever again. I am not your slave any longer.”

“Is that what this is all about?
”
Lucia
spat.
“
This
is the
m
otivation behind your betrayals
?”

“Enough!” Connor said. “You will listen to me. There is no time for this. I am not your slave any more. But I
have made an oath to your father
. I fled the injustice of this place and the cruelty of your brother, but
when I saw that you were in danger
I returned to protect you. If I had made it here sooner I would have protected your father also. But now you and I are in a
hard position. You have to trust me and I have to trust you if we are going to get out of this.”

“Trust you? I will never trust you! My family is destroyed! My home plundered. My whole life is being stripped away from me even now because of you! I will never trust you. You are with the men who murdered the brother I loved and the father that I loved! You are my eternal enemy.”

“This place is being plundered because your
proud
ancestors built it too
close to one of the roads east,
” Connor shot back. “
They thought that they would always be the ones in power; but things change.
Your dear brother was an ev
il man, who raped my friend
and tried to kill me.”

“Liar!”

“As for your father – did I not just risk my life fighting the man who killed him?
A fight to save you!”

“A fight to dominate me,
”
Lucia
retorted. “And you did not kill him, so that proves that you cared nothing for my father. You would not even avenge him when it was in your power to do so. And now his soul cannot rest, as he is unavenged and unburied!”

Lucia
again broke down into inconsolable weeping.

Connor turned his back and walked away towards the terrace. He opened the doors once more and looked outside. Night had fallen, but there was enough moonlight to see the contours of the land. Keeping a low profile against the wall, he strained his eyes and ears for all the information he could gain. He could hear the Goths celebrating inside the villa. Occasionally he would here the clatter as they knocked over some furnitu
re or shelving as they became im
patient in their quest for
plunder
. They would find the wine cellars soon, if they had not already. But Connor noticed that there was a number of Goths standing sentry, not only in the entrances of the villa, but also at st
rategic points throughout the grounds
. They were watching, highly vigilant for any counter-attack from the slaves, or the more unlikely arrival of local militia. Connor looked out further, towards some of the slave quarters. He was thankful that he as yet saw no signs of fire or destruction. Chances were that his old friends had fled and were hiding in the woods either inside or out
side the estate walls. Earlier
Arastan had come in with a lightning-swift show of force, riding through and
cutting down as many men as he could and scattering the
bucellarii
, so
the slaves would probably never risk an attack. They were unarmed and inexperienced at fighting, so how could they hope to stand against seasoned cavalry? But beyond that, why would they want to? Had they not been trained to accept whatever might come
,
quietly and without complaint? That was what their whole lives had been about. And it was unlikely that any notions of fealty towards
a system whose treatment of them ranged from
studied disinterest
to flagrant abuse
would suddenly turn them into heroes now. 

But the sentries created a bigger problem for Connor. Under so many watchful eyes, how could he get out? Connor did not know if
Valia
was still angry with him or not; but even assuming that he was not, he would mistrust such a sudden flight in the night. As for Arastan’s men – Connor need not question what they would do if they caught him sneaking around. But even if there had not been the threat of so much ill will, how cou
ld anyone move through the estate
grounds under the current circumstances without being taken for a foe by one group or another? If Arastan’s men did not shoot him at twenty paces, the fearful slaves might club him
to death. Even if he dared to try another escape, how far would he get with
Lucia
in tow? Even alone,
Lorentius
had caught him in twenty-four hours. Connor sighed deeply and rolled his shoulders, trying to shake the weight off. Again he closed the terrace doors and slid the bolt.

He moved over to the bed and sat down.

“If we are to escape we will need resources – money for bribes, money for supplies. Where did your father hide his gold?”

“To Hell with you!
Isis
curse
you
to eternal frost!
You will never find it. None of them will!”

Bad timing, perhaps, Connor mused. He struggled to keep his tone soft.

“
Do you have family in Massilia?” h
e asked. “We have to get you somewhere safe.”

“I’m staying here.”

“That is not an option. Hundreds of Goths will be here by tomorrow. They will stay at least overnight. They will clean this place out until there will be nothing left. After they leave, how do you know the slaves will
be loyal to you? And even if they are, the
bacaudae
will come, picking the place over like carrion birds after the wolves have eaten.”

“I don’t care. I will take my chances. I will trust the Mother.”

“Do you have family in Massilia
?” Connor asked more firmly.

“No.”

“Where then?”

Lucia
was silent.

“Listen – there are forty other men out there. You
can go to any of them and see i
f you will get a better offer. Now listen to me and heed what I say. Where is your family?”

“I have no fa
mily around here,
”
Lucia
said. “My mother’s family was small and reduced further by plague. Some lived north of here, but their lands have fallen into Burgundian hands
– filthy barbarians, like you
. My father had two brothers. One is dead. The other lives far to the south in Italia.”

“Where in Italia?”

“
Asisium
.”
  

“Where is that?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’ve never been there. It is in Umbria. I think in the middle of that land, north
east
of Rome.”

“You have met this uncle?” Connor asked.

“Once, some years ago.”

“And he seemed a good man?”

“Of course.
Better than you.”

Connor ignored the insult
s
. He rose up and started looking through the two wardrobes. They would need travel clothing.

“I suppose the obvious thing to do would be to lay low until the Goths move on and th
en take you to Paulinus Effacus,
” Connor mused aloud.

“You can’t do that!”
Lucia
said, standing to her feet and balling her fists.

“Well, at least there’s someone you want to be with less than me.”

“I hate him. I hate him and his son. And what makes you think that they would go through with the wedding or even honor me at all now that my fa
ther is gone? Effacus would find a way to stea
l this villa and make me his slave.”

Connor nodded, knowing that
Lucia
was probably right. He tossed the cloak he was handling on the floor on top of some of the other
suitable garments
.

“Stop going through
my brother’s things, thief,
”
Lucia
said.