The Chariots Slave (9 page)

The two women quietly walked through the bathhouse to a
large wooden door. Sellah hadn’t remembered seeing it from
her last visit here. Orla pushed it open and ushered Sellah in.
Unlike the bathhouse, which until now Sellah had thought
beautiful, this room was suited for kings.

The ceiling opened to the sky, allowing the sun’s rays to
light the pool. And the entire ground around the salt bath was
covered with hand painted green and yellow tiles.

Orla smiled as she watched Sellah take in the space. “It’s
beautiful isn’t it?”
“Yes, I have never seen such a lavish place,” Sellah
confessed.
“The salt bath is only accessible to our most elevated
clients.” Orla tried to find the words to explain without
insulting Sellah’s status. “I am not sure what you have done
to merit your Dominus sending you here, but you certainly
could use it. In fact, I would not have thought this possible,
but you may look worse than when we first met.”
Sellah laughed at Orla’s jest, resulting in a stabbing pain
to her side. With a worried look Orla rushed to help Sellah
out of her stola and into the salt pool.
“Rest now, I will go prepare a poultice.” Orla managed to
support Sellah’s weight while lowering her into the salt
bath’s healing waters. “And Sellah, if someone approaches
you, please do not reveal to them that you are a servant. It

What do you mean, Diana refuses to pull any of the new
drivers?” Thaddius screamed into the face of a very nervous
stable hand.

“Dominus, we have put forth great effort. Believe me we
have, and every time she refuses to take step. Even after
receiving the motivation of a whip she remains still.”

Upon hearing they had brought whip upon his most trusted
horse, Thaddius lost all restraint. He grabbed the man by his
neck and slammed him into the stable door.

“If I ever hear of you lashing that horse again, I will return
the favor. For every one lash Diana receives you will receive
two. Do I make myself clear?”

The man bobbed his head in understanding, and Thaddius
released his grip, dropping him to the ground. “Now go,
ready the men. We will meet on the circus grounds and
discuss our problem.”

Without hesitation the man ran off to see to Thaddius’s
demands. Taking this moment to rest and reflect on the past
few days, Thaddius slumped onto the hay bale beside him.
With his head rested on his hands he focused on breathing,
long deep breaths.

His head was a swarm of thoughts: Sellah, new drivers,
Simeon, being Dominus. He couldn’t focus; he needed to
take his mind off everything. He could try wine and women,



but for some reason he had not had a taste for either lately.
But he did need the mental release, and he knew of only one
other way to do so—Diana.

It wasn’t wise for him to race now that he was Dominus.
But it wouldn’t hurt taking a biga or a quadriga out for a
couple of laps. Having made up his mind, he strode
purposefully toward the circus. The anticipation of once
again standing in a chariot and commanding Diana and the
team quickened his pace. It had been four months since he
had done so, and four months since his father’s death.

As he rounded the stable walls, a scene of disaster spread
out before him. Men cried out in pain and fear as they
desperately clung to the leads of a rearing horse. Even though
it was fastened to the chariot, it bucked wildly, pulling men
off the ground and kicking at anyone within range.

Thaddius quickly surveyed the area and noticed some of
the men bandaging fresh wounds. The other two horses
pulled to the side as they tried to be free of the ties that bound
them to the cart and to the wild horse. This only acted to
block the men from securing the right side, and it caused the
cart to tip precariously high.

“Stop!” Thaddius yelled as he ran down the hill toward the
men. “Let go of the line, the cart’s tipping!” In their panicked
focus the men did not hear Thaddius’s warning and continued
their attempt of pulling down the rogue horse.

This fuelled Thaddius’s need to get to the track and save
the cart from tipping completely over and injuring one of his
prize horses. He ran faster than he had known possible and in
no time made it to the heart of the calamity.



and an eerie stillness fell upon the circus. “Get the cart before
it tips,” he directed to the men as he turned toward the center
of this struggle. The horse.

“Diana?” His eyes widened as he realized the wild horse
had been his most trusted and best trained.
“What happened here? Why does she react so?” Not for
one minute did he believe the problem had anything to do
with Diana. The fault lay with the men who tended to her.
Hoping to keep her state of calm, Thaddius ran his hand
over her strong neck, comforting her as he waited for an
explanation.
“Apologies Dominus,” one of the stable hands said. “This
is what I meant by she refuses to pull any drivers. As soon as
one sets foot in the cart she begins rearing. Of the three new
drivers brought here this morning, we have only one who is
undamaged.”
Taking in a deep breath, Thaddius absorbed the words and
looked about him. His men were frazzled, worn out. But
instead of letting his anger take control, he couldn’t help but
smile. “Leave us!”
“My Lord?” one of them asked, unsure of the
us
Thaddius
was referring to.
“All of you, return to the stables and pick two new horses.
We will test our last driver with a fresh biga.”
The men hurried toward the stables, eager to be away from
their surprisingly well tempered Dominus and his angry
horse. When they were out of his vision, Thaddius turned to
Diana.
“Let me guess. Not one of them is good enough to ride
with you?” he asked.

The mare answered by stamping a hoof and shaking her
dark mane. She was an intelligent horse, and he did not doubt
that she understood the gist of what he was asking.

“Diana, I need you to work with me. I must have a driver
in the next games. This trigarium is well esteemed in Rome.
And to keep it as such, we must continue to put forth good
competition and a good show. If you will not cooperate, then
we will have to replace you with another lead.”

Diana lifted her nose into the air and let forth a screeching
whinny.
“Are you calling my bluff?” Thaddius gave the horse a
mock glare. “I can’t even be sure you still know what to do at
a circus,” he jested.
The temptation of the empty chariot all ready to drive
gripped at his resolve. He looked longingly toward the cart.
He rested his eyes on his favorite place in the world, the
helm. As if understanding the matters of his heart, Diana
shoved her head into his back and pushed him toward it.
This slight nudge was all he needed to revive familiar
movements. His hand grabbed at the handle, its worn leather
embracing him with greeting. Using it to leverage his weight,
in one gliding motion he hopped onto the platform.
His feet were drawn like magnets to their traditional spot.
The paint below them was worn down to raw wood from the
numerous times he had stood in that very place. Somehow the
leather reins made their way into his grasp. And as usual, he
wrapped it three times around his left hand and with his right
clung tightly to the wooden frame.
Tilting back his head and closing his eyes, he predicted
every move he would make. His heart beat in unison with
each gallop he imagined the horses taking. He could no



longer deny what his body thirsted for, so he opened his
mouth and gave Diana the command.

with the same ferocity as if on show before thousands of fans.
Dust. stirred by their hooves, flew into Thaddius’s face. His
hair and tunic flapped about him as he stood his ground.

Man and beasts and cart worked as one, a balance of wit
and speed. A deadly trio.
They were reaching the first turn, and instead of pulling
back on the reins to slow their advance, he loosened his grip.
“Hijah!” he screamed, signalling the team to increase its
speed into the curve.
Instantly the outside horses leaned into Diana. Shoulder to
shoulder the three beasts pushed on. With each thrust of their
hooves, they dug in deeper propelling the chariot forward.
Thaddius bent his knees and readied himself to balance
through the bend. The speed at which they entered caused the
right side wheel to rise slightly from the ground. Ignoring the
pressing need to balance his weight, he trusted that Diana
would align the horses and steady their advance once
through.

Thaddius leaned into the tilt just enough to shoot the cart
through the turn. Most other riders would have steadied the
cart sooner, making sure both wheels were on the ground.
But not Thaddius. He knew this would lose precious seconds,
and in a race, each second defined your life or death.

The team had gone around the track another two times
before Thaddius noticed the growing crowd of onlookers.
The men returned from the stables and lined up and down the
circus grounds to watch Thaddius do what he was famous
for: becoming one with the horse and cart.

Deciding to end his adventure in style, Thaddius pulled
back on the reins and skidded the cart to a stop, mere feet
before the crowd. The dust from the sudden stop cloaked the
men around him. They coughed, trying to free it from their
lungs, and they batted at the air. Thaddius bounded off the
chariot and sauntered over to them.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Acestes walking
toward him.
“Apologies Dominus, but you have a visitor. And seeing
as you were occupied, I took the liberty of inviting him in.”
Acestes was careful to bow his head while approaching his
Dominus.
Thaddius squinted his eyes at the man, trying to gauge
who the visitor could possibly be. But when a voice spoke,
Thaddius required no introduction. He knew the visitor all
too well. He would recognize his ear-scratching voice
anywhere. Barachius.
“With a display like that, it really is a shame you will not
have a driver representing this trigarium in the Grande
Maximus tournament.”

The look of concern on Barachius face was obviously
planted. He did not care that Thaddius would not have a
driver representing the blue Veneta team. In fact, it made him
happy. Blue and green had been rivals for years, and without
blue to compete, the fans’ affections would be given to the
green Prasina team, Barachius’s team.

“Barachius, how unexpected of you to visit. Where do you
get your information?” Thaddius was trying to act civilly
before the men.

“I only assumed, since the blues have missed the last three
games, that they would also withdraw from the tournament.”
“Assumptions can be misleading,” Thaddius said straight
faced.
“Yes, I suppose they can be. Tell me Thaddius, will you
find a driver to compete on behalf of the blue Veneta team?”
Both men stood ready to battle, but they were frozen in
politics. Barachius’s obvious taunt caused Thaddius to thrust
his jaw forward. Barachius knew Thaddius had not found a
suitable driver, but yet he still came to make sure. That must
only mean that Barachius was nervous. Nervous that the blue
team may come back and defeat the green yet again.
“Of course we have a rider,” Thaddius offered without
thinking of the consequences of his lie.
“You do? Well then, before these witnesses shall we make
a little wager?”
Barachius turned and spoke to the men as if he were
giving an address to the senate. He was working the crowd,
and Thaddius was worried as to what he had planned. But he
could not back down now. Letting Barachius best him in
front of his men would be humiliating. He could not have his
men think him weak, an unfit Dominus. No, he must prove he