The Barbarian's Mistress

BOOK: The Barbarian's Mistress
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The

Barbarian’s

Mistress

 

 

 

 

Nhys Glover

 

 

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. With the exception of historical events and people used as background for the story, the names, characters and incidents portrayed in this work come wholly from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental

 

Published by Belisama Press 2013

 

 

© Nhys Glover 2012

The right of Nhys Glover to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988

 

 

This book is copyright. All rights reserved.

Apart for any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without the written permission of the author.

 

Map of the Journeys across the Roman Empire 79 CE

About the Author

 

Nhys Glover is an Australian teacher,
historian, international presenter and author, who now lives and writes in the beautiful Yorkshire Dales of England. Here she looks out over Bronte Country, and is inspired to write romantic (and a little bit hot) tales of adventure that feed her Soul and inspire her readers.

The Barbarian’s Mistress
is the second historical fiction Nhys has written, and in it she has again returned to the Roman Empire of 79 CE. This is a period that came to life for her during several visits to the archaeological site of Pompeii.

She wants to applaud
the amazing work of Stanford University’s Orbis Project, and thank them for their generosity in allowing unlimited access to their interactive map of the Roman Empire. Without its amazing ability to plot both land and sea journeys across the Empire, this work would have been far less detailed and accurate.

Please visit
www.nhysglover.com
to find out more about Nhys, her fascinating life
, and more details about her many books.

Chapter One

 

10 April 75 CE, Rome, LATIUM

 

Vali moved with quick precision along the full length of the covered peristylium, his long legs eating up the distance in moments. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the tiled floor beneath his sandaled feet. It was the only way he could maintain control of his volatile temper. Focus on one step after another, allow no thoughts beyond your next step, allow no thoughts of your destination, and most importantly, allow no thoughts of the reason for your destination.

Salvia Bibuli was sending him out on yet another time consuming and petty expedition into the marketplace, when she knew he had work his master had assigned him to do. It was her way to get even with him for not pleasing her in bed. He brought himself up hard, casting the thought away.

Allow no thoughts of the reason

A sudden cry, followed by a cruel, childish laugh had him looking up and out into the enclosed garden, distracting him from his furious thoughts. There he saw the youngest daughter of the house, Annia Minor, sprawled awkwardly across a bed of herbs. Her older brother, Publius, stood over her, roaring with laughter.

One step in front of another, allow no thoughts beyond your next step…

With a furious shake of his blonde head, he ignored his own counsel and deviated from his path, heading toward the children.

Anniana, as she was affectionately called by the household, lay awkwardly in the dirt. She was obviously trying hard not to cry.

‘Young mistress, are you well?’ Vali asked, reaching out a hand to help her rise.

Big, doe-shaped eyes the colour of amber looked up at him, unshed tears making them glisten brightly. A tentative hand reached out to him. But a faster arm knocked his away before their fingers touched.

‘She doesn’t need your help,
slave
. Go about your business and leave well enough alone.’ The sneer on the boy’s face was just asking to be wiped off, and Vali clenched his fists to curb the urge to do just that.

Allow no thoughts beyond your next step…

‘The wellbeing of a child of this household is my business, young master. Your sister needs my help. I give it willingly.’

He had five years on the fourteen year old and a foot in height. If push came to shove, it would be the younger boy who would go down. And Publius must have read his future in Vali’s eyes, because he shrugged and backed off.

As he began to saunter away, the boy cast one last barb over his shoulder. ‘Just because you’re my mother’s pet, doesn’t mean you can get away with insolence,
slave.
Be warned!’

Turning back to the girl, Vali offered her his hand again. She took it, and staggered upright onto long, gangling legs. At thirteen, Anniana was beginning to sprout up, already topping her brother by several inches. The growth spurt made her as ungainly as a foal, and self-conscious because of it.

Vali remembered what that growth spurt felt like. He’d gone from looking his mother in the eye one day, to being able to rest his chin on the top of her head, in what felt like the next. And he hadn’t stopped there. In a few short months, he’d grown to be the tallest man in his village. And the thinnest. It had taken years for his big body to fill out to its now impressive size.

‘You shouldn’t have done that, Vali,’ Anniana said, brushing dirt off her gown. ‘He’s vindictive, and he’ll get even with you for standing up to him.’

‘Vindictiveness runs in your family. I’m used to it.’ He cringed inwardly at his stupidity. The cardinal rule of slavery – never criticise your masters in their hearing.

‘Publius is a lot like mother and Annia Major, you’re right. But father and Gaius are not vindictive. They would see such behaviour as beneath them. Gaius used to keep Publius in line, when he was here. But since he went into the army…’ The girl sighed, distracting herself by trying to shake off the dirt that clung to the ends of her long, warm-brown hair. ‘I miss him.’

‘You have a hard time of it, don’t you?’

Vali didn’t want to feel sympathy for one of his owners, but this youngest child of the household was gentle and sweet, and had borne the brunt of her mother’s indifference and her sibling’s cruelty, all her life. Being her father’s favourite had only brought her grief. Luckily, Gaius, as the feted eldest son, had felt no jealousy toward her. But the others had no such special place in their father’s heart. And so they resented the beloved baby of the family, and punished her accordingly.

‘It’s not so bad. And Annia Major will be marrying soon. She’s much happier these days because of it.’

Vali grunted, unwilling to comment. He had been in this household for a little under a year, a scribe and secretary to
his master and secret bedmate to his mistress. In that whole time, he had never seen Annia Major smile. And, because she knew her mother’s secret, she treated him with barely concealed disgust, as if he was to blame for her mother’s misbehaviour.

It wasn’t as if he wanted to share his mistress’ bed. He was forced into it, just as he had been in the household before this one, and the one before that. The network of upper class matrons in Rome were a close knit group, who shared their dirty little secrets. When one found something they liked, they passed it on when they were finished with it. And what they had liked, in this instance, was a tall, bl
onde slave boy with ample endowments and clever hands.

‘I must go. Your mother requires a new stola from the markets.’

Anniana frowned in confusion. ‘Why would she send you? I thought father had you working on the monthly household expenses.’

Val
i shrugged, and looked away from the innocent eyes. This young girl didn’t need to know what games her mother played with him.

‘Father will be angry with you.’

Again he shrugged. ‘Then I better be off and get this done, so I can get back to my real work.’

‘I could go for you. I’ve nothing better to do this afternoon, and I could do with an outing. I’ll take Ninia and her father. What exactly does she require?’

Vali was tempted. But getting this young girl involved in his mess would only end up badly.

‘Better not, young mistress, if your mother found out, you’d be punished. This is my… chore…’

The girl tipped her head to the side, looking at him as if he was a strangely exotic bird, newly come to roost in her garden. Long fingers stroked a loose tendril of hair back from a face that was losing the roundness of childhood, and gaining the definition of womanhood. Soon, she wouldn’t be just childishly pretty, she would be beautiful.

‘Mother couldn’t be bothered punishing me. She doesn’t even know I exist. She certainly won’t notice I’ve gone to the market place. And if you go back into the office, she won’t realise you haven’t gone out. Please Vali, give me something to do. I go mad with boredom most days. There is only so much time I can spend playing the lyre.’

Against his better judgement, he nodded, handing her the small pouch of money. ‘A blue wool stola. As lightweight as you can find for the money.’

The smile she gave him was heart-stopping. It was as if he’d given her the best gift she’d ever received, rather than agreeing to let her do him a favour. ‘I’ll bring it to you in the office.’

Before he could change his mind, she scampered away like the child she still was, leaving him to wonder at her infinite capacity for kindness, when she came from such a family as this.

One step in front of the other…

He glanced around to see whether their exchange had been observed by any of the other slaves. Satisfied they’d been alone; he turned on his heel and headed for the small office at the front of the house.

 

By the time Anniana returned from her outing, bringing with her a beautifully crafted stola of egg-shell blue, Vali had caught up with his work. The girl dropped her purchase, and the remaining money, on the desk. Then she disappeared without a word.

He had just enough time to take the garment to his mistress before the master was due back from the senate. Once Bibulus was back in the house, Salvia would not be able to play her games with him.

His mistress was reclining on a lounge, eating carefully peeled and pitted grapes, when he entered her quarters. Her amber coloured eyes, so like her youngest daughter’s, studied him briefly as he showed her the stola. Sniffing, she held out her hand for the garment, feeling its texture, checking its weave. Then she nodded, and took the fabric fully, throwing it negligently across the back of the lounge.

‘It will do. The colour is not quite right, but what can I expect from a man? I should send you back for another that is of a deeper hue, but…’

‘Your husband will be home shortly, and you would be hard pressed to explain why I was away from my desk.’ He finished for her, unable to keep the insolence out of his voice. The image of her bent over in front of him, her skinny, naked rear offered up to him, urged him on. This one liked it rough and dirty.

‘Hardly relevant. But, as I said, it will do. You may go for now. But I want you here in the morning to play handmaiden for me. You do the job
so
much better than Mira …’ She cast a look at her handmaiden who was studiously studying the tiles beneath her feet.

Vali felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. To have fallen so low as to be considered a handmaiden, when he was the eldest son of a powerful chieftain, was the worst kind of insult. Far worse than the acts he was forced to perform on the women who owned him. Far worse than being a slave at the beck and call of those who considered themselves his superior.

He gave an insolently brief bow and left the mistress’ quarters.

 

‘Hmm, the figures are higher than usual this month,’ Gaius Annius Bibulus commented, looking over Vali’s shoulder at the parchment that lay unrolled before him on the cluttered desk.

‘You have entertained more frequently this month. And the mistress has required a larger personal allowance.’

Bibulus grunted unhappily. ‘My wife will have us penniless before long. Her incessant dinner parties for her decadent court friends are making me a laughing stock.’

Vali knew better than to comment. Bibulus was a very rich and influential senator, but much of his influence was due to his politically motivated marriage into the influential Salvius line. He may not appreciate his hedonistic wife’s behaviour, but he would never attempt to curb it, for fear she would divorce him. Not only would he lose much of his political power base through the divorce, but his youngest daughter would legally go to her mother. And that he would never countenance.

Vali knew about this anomaly because he’d read the radical marriage contract. It had been drawn up shortly after Nero came to power, and it returned the dowry and any unmarried daughters to the paterfamilias of the mother in case of divorce. Usually, all children remained part of their father’s paterfamilias. He imagined that, at the time, Bibulus had considered it an acceptable loss for the political gain. After all, most men only valued their sons. But, since his youngest daughter had won his heart, he’d been held to ransom just to keep the girl close.

‘Your estate in Calabria has yielded higher than usual returns this year. That will balance any overspend in the household budget,’ Vali said neutrally.

‘That is something I suppose. If only my fleet would return, or I could enlarge it. I’ve tried to convince Vespasian that there is nothing wrong with senators trading, but though he is sympathetic to the idea, he feels the rest of the senatorial class will not be. We are landed gentry, not merchants. So my fleet must remain tiny, no matter how lucrative it proves, or how many eggs I’m forced to place in one basket.’ He sighed heavily.

‘Staying within the limits is certainly restrictive, but there are ways around it. Set up a loyal man as the trader, and then have him pay you exorbitant rental on property as a way to bring the coin back into your coffers from the venture. As for your ships, they’ll arrive any day now, I’m sure. There haven’t been any reports of storms, and pirates are less of a problem these days, with the navy patrols Vespasian has initiated.’

‘Yes, you’re right, Vali. I worry over nothing, as usual. And if I had a man I could rely on, I would certainly take up your suggestion. You provide astute council. My wife was oddly wise when she purchased you. For such a young man, you have a shrewd eye for finance, and a meticulous hand. Most of my wife’s usual purchases have been for looks alone. She does so enjoy having beautiful slaves around her. But most have nothing between their ears but air. You are the exception.’

Vali had heard this many times before, and no longer took it as a compliment. Bibulus saw him as no more than livestock. His appreciation was limited to considering him an excellent buy. It was almost as insulting as the way his wife treated him. But then, had he ever considered the slaves of his father’s household as people, if he’d thought of them at all? No. To those who owned slaves, no matter what culture, slaves were no better than livestock.

That was why young Anniana was so unusual. She saw everyone as a person, no matter whether they were slave, plebeian, citizen or patrician. Her kindness was offered to any who needed it, no matter what strata of society they belonged to. How had she come to be like that; an anomaly, out of step with her class and her society?

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