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The hood over my eyes kept me from seeing the shadows, as they worked at binding me and taking me away. It did not, however, keep me from putting up a fight, and I lashed out at whatever I could hit. I shouted obscenities at them, and writhed in their grasp, using every bit of my will and strength, to escape. They wrestled me to the ground, and tied me to stakes, so that I could no longer move. I screamed for my gods to forgive me my lack of faith, and sobbed for Maximus, when the shadow figures began to stab my shoulder and face."I'm here," Maximus murmured, a low, protective thunder that threatened to send the shadows back into the forest of my mind. With it he brought the rain, gently washing blood and tears away from my face. The demons that haunted my sleep of late faded away, whispering in their meaningless tongue, leaving behind the excruciating pain of the wound in my shoulder, and my broken nose.
Justinius was saying, as I woke to very tangible reality, "No wonder they shot her. She probably gave them just as much trouble."
"Oh, I'm sure she gave them more, she was awake then." Phillip gingerly examined the arrow's depth in my flesh, tenderly probing the hole, careful not to disturb the ripped shreds of tissue caused by my violent activity. "I'm going to have to cut it out," he announced to Maximus, filling a vessel with what I recognized as one of my own recipes- yarrow, to dull the pain, and chamomile, to make me sleep, again.
"Then do it," Maximus consented, his nausea quite evident, when Phillip began selecting his implements. He ushered Justinius out, to give the surgeon and his assistant room to operate, and Phillip commented that perhaps he should join his nephew. Maximus informed him tersely that he was going nowhere. Just as he had been reluctant to leave his kinsman's side, he would not leave mine.
"This isn't going to be like removing a spear," I reminded hoarsely. "Go outside and wait. Phillip and Matthias know what they are doing."
"I'll stay." That was the end of it. His tone brooked no argument, and I was in no shape to. It was going to be a painful surgery, and until the medicine that Matthias helped me drink took effect, I would need all my strength to endure the incisions needed to remove the barbed arrow. Phillip cut my ruined clothing away, and cleansed my chest of smeared blood and other matter. Cassandra was called to take and burn my precious uniform. A silent, haunted tear slid from my eye, before my vision was filled with the tender safeguard of the general, and the first slice into my flesh was made.
When next I woke, Maximus was perched on Cassandra's pallet across the room from mine, turning the vicious arrowhead over in his hands, examining it in the lamp's glow. Its tip was curved to the point, but where the shaft had been glued to it, splayed four barbed prongs, that would have ripped a hole in my shoulder, had Phillip merely pulled it out. I watched him while he inspected it, the lines of his handsome face drawn and taut, in concentration and anger over the object in his hands. With the realization that I was awake and observing him, his features softened, and he came to sit beside me, laying the arrowhead on his little finger, so I could see how long it was. Looking at the thing, I felt empty, as if all that had occurred the previous night were a lifetime ago, rather than a matter of hours.
"You're going to give me gray hair," he teased.
"I already have." His laughter was assurance that everything was all right, if we could find humor in our trials. Then seriousness invaded our quiet peace.
"He found you." He did not need to end with what we both knew. There was no way to know how many letters had gone from Catavignus' hand, here in Vindobona, to Livius', in Lugdunum. That my enemy awaited the delivery of his prize was not in doubt, and when enough time had passed, and none of his men appeared, and I was not in his own grasp, he would again search for me. Word would be sent, anyway, that Catavignus was dead. Livius would be written to with the explanation that had been agreed on, in that forest miles away from here, but he would not believe it. Through his friends in the Senate, it would be no hard thing for him to discover Maximus' and my destination, and try again, to capture me. Catching Maximus would be an added reward, and I knew that my master would never be safe, as long as we were together. It hurt me that his days were spent worrying about danger, where I was concerned, over an old feud that should never have been his concern at all. Any other man would have sold me, and washed his hands of the problem.
"Aye. And now he has more reason to hate me," I whispered bitterly.
"I should never have given you permission to go." He was not looking at me, but at the evil-looking weapon, testing the edges of it, with a thumb.
"Or I could have told him I didn't want to go, or any number of things could have prevented it. But it happened. It's not your fault, and it's not mine. He'd have found another way." I held my hand out for the arrow tip. He placed it in my palm, gently, with a query in his eyes. "I want to keep it, as a reminder," I explained.
"Do you really want to remember?"
"Only that the gods have blessed me, and that I can never be blind to it, again."
"I'm not sure I would consider a broken nose and an arrow in the arm, a blessing from the gods." His grin warmed my heart.
"I'm not sure a slave who's more trouble than she's worth, is such fortune, either."
He frowned, and brushed my hair back. "If I didn't think you were worth it, I wouldn't have gone after you." Maximus would face the entire world alone for those he loved, if it meant keeping them safe.
For the better part of two days, I spent time in thought or prayer. Phillip kept me restricted to Maximus' quarters, or the infirmary, and while I did nothing but ponder, it seemed to me that I had never really given thought to how short life can be, until then. Even while I healed from the far more fatal wounds I had received, courtesy of the bears, I had been preoccupied with the unknown of who my new master was, and letting myself become human, again. But then, when I was recovering in the home of Gracchus (was it really only a year, previous?), I had been a creature with an empty heart. I had not learned the things I knew now, nor had I cared enough. Trust was an alien concept to me, and love even more remote an idea. My family members were all dead or missing, so the shorter my life was the better. Never did I expect that to change, and so had not reflected on what would never be accomplished, if it were suddenly taken away. It was as if nearly escaping the sentence placed over me by Livius yet again, made me think on things differently. So quickly can one's fate change, in just the blinking of an eye. The slightest adjustment in circumstance, and the opportunity to say the things we should, or carry out the plans we have made, may be taken away. Every moment is precious, and must be taken advantage of.
Maximus was reluctant to let me out of the compound, but finally agreed on the condition that I wait until he could get away and accompany me to my shrine. Since the morning he brought me back wounded and bruised, to be treated by Phillip, until the hours before we rode out of the gates of Vindobona forever, he arranged to keep me close by, and took his dinner in his quarters, with me. Much of that time was spent in a silent dance of hearts that needed to say so much, uncertain, afraid, and unable to bear a distance.
That the gods heard my prayers was not in doubt, when I knelt in silent communion with them. It was not easy to approach them again, and at first, I just stayed motionless, letting my mind meander as it would. Maximus had told me, the second day of our acquaintance, that the gods take forever to reveal their plans. At times, they made the way through life hard to bear, and let a person endure trials that seemed unreasonable, to test their servants, and ensure their worthiness to receive the blessings at the end. Brigantia had told me that, in Cybele's temple. But a part of their purpose for me was already becoming apparent.
Each experience of my life was a lesson to be learned, in not looking at things on the surface, but obtaining a clear view of matters by digging through all the elements, and trying to understand what mechanisms were at work. Assumption is easy, but wisdom is thinking beyond what is obvious. It had taken being thrown into slavery for the gods to show me that the truths that I had clung to in my youth were not always so. For the last eight years of my life, I had met many people, and saw many strange and different things, gaining knowledge beyond that which I might ever have, had the gods left me in my tiny village, shut off and unconcerned about the rest of the world. Certainly, the path they led me down was difficult, and sometimes frightening, but in the end, it had been for my own good, so that I could learn the lessons that I had along the way.
One of the most important ones for me then, was that of love, and its many forms. I had known the love of my parents, and had visited that same deep, unconditional, all-consuming pride and joy on my own child. There was the love of my sister and me for each other that had kept me going, throughout most of my childhood and even through the years we had been separated. Justinius and his family, as well as Gracchus and his, were dear friends and I loved them, almost as much as I cared for those who shared my blood. The only mystery to me was romantic adoration.
As I glanced at Maximus, I realized the gods had brought me to the only man that I could truly find worthy of such a strong feeling. The night breeze that kicked up swirls of leaves and dead grass about me could not chill me more than knowing that I had almost lost the chance to love Maximus, and be held in his heart, in return. We were so close to letting ourselves fall over the edge of our pasts and pain, into love, but the strong hands of fear kept holding us back. Several times, during that hours-long ordeal, when I was certain I was headed for my death, I had regretted not finding the courage to tell Maximus that I was his beyond the bonds of slavery. The gods heard. All I had to do was take advantage of the gift of time they had presented me, and not squander it.
A smattering of snowflakes fell softly to the ground and melted, when I joined Maximus, to walk back to camp. He looked up to the sky, with its dark blanket of thick clouds that blocked out the stars.
"Early winter," he observed.
"It's a good thing we're leaving soon. It'll hit Eire harder." He nodded, then led the way back. We strolled side by side, in no hurry, our stride in perfect tempo. Once, he veered into me, knocking me out of sync, and I giggled at his play, trying to do the same to him. He was far more solid, and I bit back the cry of pain from hitting my damaged shoulder. So I settled for shyly tucking my fingers between his.
Maximus stopped, and for a moment, so did the entire world. The only sound was of our breathing, the wind moving the branches above and the pulse of my heart in my ears. He looked down at our intertwined fingers, and I watched the array of emotions that crossed his countenance- uncertainty, hope, and finally joy. Then he was searching my eyes, flushing a confession from them. He tugged at my hand, to draw me into the warmth of his embrace, keeping our joined hands between us. I studied his- broad, war-scarred, noting the thick, strong fingers and roughness of the tops, while I rested my cheek on his shoulder, breathing in the smell of the leather of his parade armor, and the oils he had used in his bath that morning.
"What's on your mind, Sweet?" He nuzzled my hair with his chin, and tightened his arm around me, when I could not find the voice to answer him, right away.
"There's no rush. Tell me when you're ready."
"I don't know where to start. There's so much."
"I know. I'll wait."
"I want to make you happy," was all I could think to say. He brushed hair away from my face, and brought my chin up to hold me with his eyes, as well as his arms. His thumb traced my lips.
"This is a good start." He graced my forehead with gentle busses, careful to avoid my nose and cheekbones. He laced his fingers with mine, again, and stepped back from our snuggling.
"Are you hungry?"
"Aye. I could eat."
"Then let's get our dinner, before they come looking for us." Before we could be seen by the guard at the gates, Maximus brought my fingers to his lips and kissed them, sending waves of shock all through my arm, and into my stomach and private places. Then we made our way inside the walls to his quarters, not touching, not speaking. I was still trembling with excitement and nervousness.
Dinner was quiet and over quickly, for neither of us seemed to have an appetite, after all. Cassandra cleared away our plates, and gave Lupa the choicest scraps, when she realized we were not really interested in eating, or in her company. I hardly remember performing my usual routine. I turned down his blankets, and made sure his armor was ready for the next day. Normally, he would climb into his bed, and bid me a peaceful rest, as I left him to his slumber, but he remained in the chair next to the hearth in the atrium, reading a scroll. I let my fingers trace the diamond shaped patterns of his pillow, my thoughts wandering at will.
Although smaller than the bed in the house that Maximus' replacement now occupied, this one would still sleep two, comfortably. There would be no interruptions, as Cassandra was spending our last nights in Vindobona with Justinius. That Maximus wanted me there, was no longer in question, he simply wanted me to come to him, when I was ready. That moment was at hand, but still I was apprehensive. My only knowledge of relations with men was of rape and business.
I thought about Cassandra, wondering if she enjoyed the sex with her lovers. She never seemed put out, and from past experience of her bringing in a friend when she thought I was fast asleep, and judging by the sounds of their quiet mating, it seemed to be a pleasurable thing for her. The men who had used me had not cared whether I liked it, or not. Was Maximus different? I could imagine, from the gentle way he treated me, and the fact that he had never forced himself on me, that he must be, but sometimes even the weakest of men were little more than rutting pigs, when release was presented them. Whether he was considerate or not, I wanted to at least be the one he took what he needed from. I had years of practice at enduring the emptiness of being used, and shutting it out of my mind.
He was still reading, when I went to Cassandra's and my room, to divest myself of clothing, and brush out my hair. If I was going to offer Maximus the sacrifice of myself, it would at least be a presentable one, if not perfect. I left the shutters open, and let the cold night air waft over me, cooling my body, and helping me ease the tension that had mounted since early on, and refused to go away. Next to my cot, Cassandra had set a bottle of lavendar oil, to cast a love charm for me. I was grateful for the encouragement, and dabbed a bit over my stomach and behind my knees, as I had been taught to do in Aphrodite's temple. Wrapping a blanket around my bare shoulders, I blew out the oil lamp, and crept to where Maximus sat by the fire, Lupa at his feet.
If he heard me enter the atrium, he gave no sign, nor did he seem to pay much attention to the scroll unrolled over his lap. He leaned back on the chair, one arm draped over the back of it, staring into the flames that crackled merrily in the fireplace. The light of it made his skin glow honey-gold, and seemed to touch his dark locks with copper. He sighed, then reached to rub his beard. He started to turn in his chair as if to leave, coming around to face me, where I stood memorizing the picture of him.
His eyes blazed a blue-green trail of fire over me, long and scorching in their assessment of what was offered to him, and seared my soul, branding me his. It was not hard to read the naked arousal and yearning there. I glimpsed the tip of his tongue, as it wet his lips, and wondered if his mouth was as dry inside as my own. "Come here to me," he whispered, barely audible. It was not a command, but an invitation, a wish that I granted, letting him pull me between his knees, and allowing his hands to roam over my blanket-covered hips and legs.
Something I had wanted to do sometimes, when I knew he was tired, and needed the comfort of a touch, but never could bring myself to, was stroke his beard, and find out if it was as soft and thick as it looked. While I explored the grizzled carpet of facial hair, I forced myself to keep my eyes level with his. I was afraid not to, lest I miss something important in them. He captured my straying fingers, and brought each one to his lips, for a caress, but his gaze never wavered from mine.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through me, painful and beautiful at the same time and I gasped as the sensation of what he was doing almost brought me to my knees. Maximus caught me, pulling me across his lap; the scroll that occupied it previously lay forgotten and unimportant on the floor. The blanket that provided a thin barrier between my nakedness and his nomadic fingers joined it, then his mouth was on my shoulders and neck, kissing and nibbling, while his hands began an investigation of the rest of me, sliding over my thighs and belly, raising goosebumps, in their wake.
Not satisfied to merely taste my skin, he gently claimed my mouth, teasing and sampling my unschooled lips, teaching them to part and accept his wide, soft tongue, when it tagged mine. He was careful not to cause me pain, and did not insist on prolonged contact, but it was the most wonderful thing the gods could have made up for man and woman, I thought, as I tentatively tried to return his kisses. I made note to myself that when I was healed I was going make a thorough study of the art of pleasuring him that way.
Between what his hands were doing and his lips, I was certain my head would explode; the titillation was beyond what I could ever have dreamed up. Begging him to stop, I started to pull away, but he kept me fast in the iron circle of his embrace. He ceased, soothing me with wordless hushing noises, while I tried to gain control over the quaking in my limbs and private places. My arm found its way around his shoulders, and I hung on to him, as if I was drowning in a sea of ecstasy.
"Hasn't it ever been good for you?" His breath was warm, on my neck. I shook my head, and looked off into the blaze that spread its heat over us, though it was hardly needed. "No, this is the first."
"Why didn't your husband teach you properly?"
"We were young, and the marriage was a bargain between clans. That was all. It was over and done with." Absently, I traced the muscles of his shoulder, through the open neck of his tunic. My reward was a tender kiss above my breast, just under the arrow wound.
"Look at me." His fingers tangled in my hair, and rubbed slow little circles around my back through it. "We'll go slowly, this time, if you still want this."
"Aye, I do." To see the love and desire in his gaze, and feel the weight of him over me, and give him all the pleasure in return, that his eyes promised for me? I could not imagine that I would ever refuse him. The torturous rapture that a single touch could give me still frightened me a little, but I wanted more, until I could no longer bear it. He stood, and gathered me to him, for long minutes, holding me captive to his racing heart. It beat through his long nightshirt, and calmed me as much as the stroking of my back and buttocks did. As though I weighed nothing, he picked me up and carried me to the blankets and furs that covered his bed.
"Stay here," Maximus kissed my forehead, and pulled one of the blankets up to my shoulders. "I'll be right back."
"Where are you going?"
"To bolt the door." Giggling, I did as he asked, letting the feral odor of the skins and warmth of the bed lull me into a near-trance, while I waited for him to return. Then he was standing beside the mattress, eyes traveling over the shape of me in his bedcovers, breathing hard and even, silhouetted by the soft incandescence of a single oil lamp, and the candles on his altar.
He pulled the nightshirt over his head, leaving the sight of every solid, well-shaped muscle of his torso, the width of his sloped shoulders, and the golden carpet of thick fur covering his belly. The rhythm of his pulse was visible in the hollow of his throat, and I had the urge to press my lips to it. He watched me study him, and unbuckled his trousers, stepping out of them, and leaving them where they fell. His loincloth joined them, and then he was naked before me.
In the temple, male organs of all sizes could be serviced, in all manners of ways. I never took note of them, never considered them the blessing of a goddess, rather I had thought of them as a tool by which men took release. But Maximus' phallus, rising long and heavy from its base of dense curls was intended as a gift, and I would appease Aphrodite by worshipping willfully. Timidly, I reached out to hold him in my hand, causing him to moan far back in his throat. He closed his hand around mine, guiding my fingers over it, showing them how he wanted to be touched.
When leaning on my injured arm was too much to bear, he opened the blanket and slipped in next to me, avoiding contact with the limb, when he pushed the thin coverlet away.
"I want to look at you," he breathed softly into my hair, nuzzling and burying his nose in my mass of red mane.
"I have scars," I began to say, but was cut off by soft, insistent lips.
"I know. I'm trying to decide which of them is going to get my attention first." Shyly, I lay my cheek against the smattering of chest hair that formed a line between his pectoral muscles, and played with the crocodile tooth that hung from its leather string, about his neck. He gently rubbed my nose with his, but I whimpered at the contact.
"This is going to be easier, when you feel better, you know," he grinned. I nodded, and lifted my gaze, so that I could drown in the depths of the ocean. My focus was drawn to his whiskers, and again, I let my fingers comb and smooth them, then tried to nibble on his beard, mindful of the areas of my face that hurt. He offered his neck to me, and I gave it the same care and tentative love, reveling in the happiness I was giving him, when he purred like one of the big tigers he had fought. That scar received a kiss, when I discovered it, in my exploration. His hand strayed down my body, outlining my own marks, and came to rest on my breast, cupping and kneading it. His thumb flicked the nipple, and made lazy circles over the areola, until it hardened and ached, under his ministration. His mouth followed the same path his hand had, then captured my breast, laving the puckered tip, and suckling it, until every part of me was suspended by that sensation alone, and I cried out. But instead of heeding my plea for mercy, he turned to the other, and repeated his action on it. My hands threaded through the soft sable waves that crowned his head. They flowed through my delighted fingers like water, and I hugged him to me, as he feasted on the banquet of my breasts.
He finally tore himself away from my bosom, and kissed his way down my stomach, halting at the large scar across my adbomen, from the gutting I had taken. He glanced up at the bandage wrapped arrow-wound on my shoulder and stroked the one that laced my belly, tenderly, lovingly. "I've almost lost you twice," he whispered hoarsely.
"Twice?" I covered his hand with mine.
"The other night, and when I bought you from Aelius Pontius. For days, I didn't know if you would live. The gods answered my prayers." He smiled up at me, and there was the barest hint of moisture in his blue-green eyes.
"They answered mine, too."
"How?"
"They gave me to you."
He laughed against my skin, and the vibration of his voice tickled. "I think they gave me to you. You've been the master, since we met. The first time I saw you, I became your slave."
"Then why do I do all the work?" He snorted, and tickled me, until I wrapped my arms around his back, to make him stop. We lay quietly like that for a few minutes, both memorizing the imprint of the other's body into our own, the warmth and joy of the humor that always seemed to bind us closer, and the leap of our hearts, as they began a steady harmony of beating.
His tumescence between us reminded that we had yet to complete our lovemaking. It lay hot against my belly, pulsing with readiness to claim my sex. I bit my lower lip to block the wave of nervous, bitter nausea that swept over me, when he lightly brushed me with his knuckles. The quivering that had begun to subside came back, stronger, and more frightening. He frowned, then stroked around it, sliding his free palm along the insides of my thighs, and under my bottom, while he cuddled me in the other.
"Do you trust me?" His eyes bored into me, willing me to forget that there had been others who would never ask me that.
"Yes." He placed a fairy-light kiss on my brow, then spread my legs apart, stroking the thatch of curls between them, and the treasure they hid. A lightning bolt of exhilaration shot through me, almost lifting me from the bed. A mewl of sweet despair escaped my lips, and his chuckle answered it.
"Not so bad, is it?" Shaking my head, I smiled, and parted with silly fear. "Well, then you'll be happy to know, that's not all there is to it." His thumb found the center of my being, and began a slow, delicious trek around the bud of it, circling and stroking, until I was thrashing and whimpering. His tongue began the same torture on my breasts, all over again. A scream began to build in the pit of my stomach, and worked its way up into my throat. My protective wall of aversion and detachment came tumbling down, leaving knowledge that the gods did indeed purpose for man and woman to reach Elysium by that most sacred of acts. What more perfect gift could they have given?
Maximus covered my mouth, when I could no longer hold back the cry of unbelievable bliss that sought escape. His mouth replaced his hand, ravishing mine deep and hard, mindless to the pain in my face, and I cared nothing, either. I lay against the pillow and rumpled bed coverings, panting and unable to breathe, when he moved down. There was little time to recover my energy, before Maximus nestled inside me, letting me adjust to his size, then started the primitive pace of the mating ritual. As his thrusts got harder and faster, his breath came in short pants, each punctuated by a groan or a growl of long-held back desire. He guided my legs to wrap around his hips, as he pumped into me, moaning his love in my ears. Then his body spasmed, and the lava of his seed erupted and flowed inside me, as he roared his joy. I held his head against my good shoulder, while our breathing slowed, and our fingers joined. The realization came to me, as sleep overtook us, carrying us into a place where dreams are beautiful, that I had never liked intercourse because no other could take me to the heavens and bring me crashing back down, and I would settle for no less. I tightened my arms around my lover, and pillowed him with my body, as we dropped into a sated sleep, together.
All first times should be like that night. I had no maidenhead for him to break, when he entered me, but every caress, all the whispered endearments, each kiss was new and incredible, an experience to wonder upon, and cherish in my memory, for all my life. Even now, when I let my mind wander back, my heart constricts, and I feel the tremors of awakening passion, and am made whole, all over again.
