Chapter 1

The girl stood on the platform shivering in her slip. It really wasn't a slip, which was being generous to the garment. It was really rags in the form of a small dress that barely covered her slight frame. She held herself as small as possible trying to hide behind the other slaves that stood on the platform with her. There were over a dozen waiting for the sale to begin this morning. Mostly men, a couple women, and her; she was the youngest of the slaves for sale.

The sale started, the yelling and cursing over the first slave raised a raucous in the morning air. The males went for quite a sum in these parts. The Roman's were bringing back several fine specimens of working flesh from the war in Gaul. The girl had been captured outside a village being burned to the ground for not giving up enough food to the traveling Legions. The lesson was taught well, give it up or suffer the consequences.

When it was the girl's turn, she fought with the slave master as he pulled her forward. He swung his sap, hitting her on the neck and she went limp. There were many who laughed but none who offered a bid. None of the gathered purchasers wanted a wild girl on their hands. The slave master was forced to put her back into the pens until she woke up and he could teach her some manners.

She woke up sore and moaned. She looked around to see where she was and found herself back in one of the cages. There were no other slaves in the cage with her. The one guard looked in her direction when she moved and he grinned. He waved his arm to catch someone's attention outside the tent and the slave master walked in a few seconds later. He unlocked the cage and stepped inside. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the cage. She screamed but he ignored the pain he was causing her.

He placed her in the center of the tent and attached a rope through her manacles and pulled her up off the ground. Her small feet swung through the loose straw on the floor. She whimpered and begged to be let down, but her cries went unanswered. The slave master silently walked around her, inspecting her, looking for the perfect place to begin her lesson. He slid a dagger out of his belt and cut off what little remained of her rags, leaving her small frame naked in the flickering light of the torches.

He picked up a short whip, one that is used to control unruly horses. He stepped around her until she could see the whip in his hands and she began to cry and plead for him not to whip her. The slave master squinted in the low light and picked his spot. The whip whistled through the air and the crack of it hitting her skin sounded in the confines of the tent. She screamed, of course, but it did her no good. The slave master continued to select places on her body where it would inflict the most pain without doing any real damage. He was very good at what he did. He never hit her in the same place twice and he never drew blood.

What he did do is reduce her to a panting mass of hanging flesh. The pain she experienced shattered any vestige of humanity she had left. She was pain; nothing more, nothing less. The slave master had never uttered a word the entire time he whipped her. He stopped before she passed out and her body shut down. That would defeat the purpose of what he was trying to do. Her breathing was ragged and whistled out of her dry, scorched throat. He put down the whip and picked up a bucket of water. Placing it where she could see it.

Her listless eyes tracked his movement, waiting for the next round of torment to start. She couldn't lift her head anymore; she no longer had the energy to do so. The slave master grabbed a ladle full of water and sipped from it while she watched. The thirst she was suffering from was almost as bad as the whipping. The sharp pain in her throat matched the pain from her welts. The need for water drove her to try and speak. Nothing but a small squeak issued from her mouth. Her tongue was so swollen she couldn't lick her lips.

The slave master grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Her mouth open but no scream came out. The slave master nodded in approval and lifted the ladle to her lips. He poured a small amount of water into her mouth and she almost choked. She swallowed and he poured a little more. She swished it around in her mouth and swallowed. She tried to speak again, this time a slight hoarse whisper came out.

"Thank you, master."

The slave master nodded again in approval and gave her some more water. When she had finished the ladleful that he had offered, he stepped back from her and dropped in the bucket as he left. He stepped out of the tent and an older female slave stepped inside immediately afterwards. The woman picked up a small rag and the bucket of water, and she started washing off the young girl. She moaned when the old woman pressed too hard over some of her welts but she never cried out. Somehow she knew that if she did, the whipping would start all over again and she knew she couldn't handle that again.

When the woman had cleaned her off, the slave master returned with a large, rough canvas sack. He pulled out his dagger and sliced two holes, one on each side, and then a larger one in the bottom. He lowered her down onto the floor and she lay there in a heap. He threw the sack at her and only said two words.

"Get dressed."

She nodded and whispered.

"Yes, master. Thank you."

He smiled and nodded. He watched as she slowly slid the canvas bag over her head and pushed her arms out the holes. It wasn't a good fit, but it covered her down to her thighs. He grabbed her arm and helped her stand. She wobbled and stumbled back to her cage with his help. He closed the door and locked the cage. He walked out of the tent leaving her alone in the cage. The older woman knelt at the entrance of the tent with her hands in her lap and her head bowed. The young girl slowly hobbled over to the corner of the cage and pushed as much of the straw as she could find into a small bed and lay down.

She woke up with a start when the slave master unlocked her cage the next morning. He pointed to the floor in front of his feet and she quickly scooted across the floor and knelt down with her head bowed like she had seen the other woman do. The slave master looped a rope through the loop on her collar and jerked it once. She stood up and followed behind him as he turned and walked out of the tent. He led her up to the platform and tied her to the corner post with the rest of that day's slaves. She was the only female today.

The males sold quickly as it was springtime and the local farmers needed field hands. When her time came she followed meekly behind the slave master to the center of the platform. He touched her shoulder and she knelt at his feet and bowed her head. The bidding was immediate and brisk. The slave master drove a hard bargain but she was finally sold. She didn't look up as her new owner walked up to the slave master and dropped a large number of gold coins into his hand. She kept her head down even as her new owner approached her.

She heard a deep voice above her telling her to rise and follow. She stood and did as she was told. She looked at her new owners feet as he walked in front of her. They were the feet of a soldier. She recognized the caligae of the Legions, the ones who killed her family and put her into slavery to begin with. She quailed at the thought that she would now belong to one of them, to be used by one of them.

The thought that one of these monsters would have her after killing her betrothed was almost too much. She had been so happy a fortnight ago, working on her wedding dress and looking forward to living away from her mother and father for the first time in her life. Then the Legions marched into their valley and demanded all the food. When they discovered that not everything had been offered up, they taught the villagers a harsh lesson. They killed all the old men and women that were too weak to work, and shipped off the rest to be slaves. The small children were left inside the huts as they were set on fire. She could still hear the screams in her tortured nightmares.

The memories brought swift hot tears to her eyes and she choked back a sob. Her new master turned and glared at her when he heard the muffled noise. He jerked the rope and pulled her along even faster as they walked past the vendors and stalls of the local farmers hawking their wares. They reached the stalls of the local blacksmith and the soldier haggled over the price of a new collar. Once the blacksmith started making the requested item, the soldier went over to the horse post and tied her to it. He walked inside the barn and retrieved his mount. He inspected the horse and all his belongings and nodding in satisfaction, he paid the blacksmith for the collar and the new shoe for the horse.

When her new collar was finished and secured around her neck the soldier jumped up onto his horse and then reached over and untied her from the post. He grabbed her arm and hauled her off the ground and threw her over the pommel of the saddle in front of him. It was a very undignified position, but one that she could easily be controlled from. She watched the ground go by as they rode out of the village. The exhaustion and pain overwhelmed her and she slipped into nothingness.

She woke up when she hit the ground and the air rushed from her lungs. She coughed and sucked in a harsh breath and looked up to see her owner swing down off his horse. He landed next to her and reached down to grab her arm and yanked her to her feet. She felt the rasping calluses scrape her arm as he pulled her along. She struggled to keep her feet beneath her as he strode to the large tent near the fire ring. He flipped aside the flap and tossed her to the floor of the tent. She cowered there watching him as he took the end of the rope attached to her collar and tied it to the center post of the tent.

She went pale and started quivering when he started to undo the straps of his armor. He saw her expression and he laughed, giving her an evil grin. Once he had his breastplate off, he dug through his pack and produced a jar of oil and a rag. He placed the breastplate in front of her and then handed her the jar and rag.

"Clean and shine it so you can see that tiny face of yours in it."

With that he stalked out of the tent, heading for the fire ring and the others that were gathered there. She listened to their banter and hales as her new owner strode into their midst. She heard the name Tertius Aeresius Paetus called out and his gruff reply.

"Get your sorry ass's off those logs and get back to work."

There was a loud chorus of laughter at this and then it trailed off as she heard a slap and liquid sloshing. She wondered what the sound was until she heard one of them complaining about receiving poor quality wine this week. She looked down at her assigned task and opened the jar of oil carefully. She dreaded thinking what her new master would do to her if she spilled any of the precious oil. She rubbed the dust and sweat streaks off the breastplate and listened to the soldier speak to her new master. She gathered quickly that he wasn't just another soldier; he was a Praetorian. That meant that she might not be living in a tent for very long, he would have a residence nearby that his family would be in. She hoped that he was married, that would keep his attentions away from her after they arrived there.

She listened to the soldiers talk about some of their concerns for local events as she polished her master's breastplate. They seemed to have a minor problem of water-bearers going missing about every fortnight or so. They hadn't really started to look for them because they had bigger concerns with incursions from the Gauls. She heard her master's gruff voice bark at the others.

"Just where are these boys running away to?"

"We haven't found any trace, Aeresius Paetus."

"Then I suggest you start looking harder. What direction were they heading for when they went missing?"

"To the north, towards AlpesPenninae, Aeresius."

When she heard the name, she knew exactly where they were talking about. She had heard some rumors about that place herself. A flaming ball from the sky had come down there years ago and since then, it was rumored to hold a monster or a god; some said both. That was a dark, thick, forested area that was almost uninhabitable to all, except perhaps goats and roebucks. This gave her an idea; it might be better to throw herself to the mercy of a god than to face what her new Roman master was going to do to her. She held no illusions as to what her treatment was going to be like, the Romans were merciless when they wanted something.

She looked around the tent for something sharp. She set the resealed jar of oil on the floor and went over to the pack. She spotted her way out sticking up amidst the spare clothing stuffed inside. She looked towards the tent flap; the conversation was still going strong outside. She slowly pulled the handle out of the clothing, revealing the sheathed pugio.

She glanced at the flap once more and made her decision quickly, she unsheathed the leaf shaped dagger and cut the rope from her collar. She grabbed one of the large shirts from the bag and went to the back of the tent. She carefully sliced an opening in the side and slowly looked around to see if anyone was outside. Seeing nothing but trees, she silently crept out of the tent and padded over to the nearest tree. Checking again to make sure no one could see her, and keeping the tent between herself and the soldiers; she ran into the forest.

She ran for as long as her legs and lungs could hold up, but eventually she had to slow down. She hadn't had anything to eat for two days and her energy level wasn't up to the task of sustaining that kind of effort. She listened for any sounds of pursuit, but she didn't hear anything but birds and insects. She headed north towards the area that the soldiers had mentioned, where servant boys had gone missing. She hoped that meant that there was a hidden trail that would allow her to escape the Roman, or that there really was a god in the forest and it would take pity on her.

She half walked, half ran for as long as she was able to keep her feet beneath her moving. Fear of what her owner would do to her if he caught her, kept her moving even past exhaustion. It was getting dark and she was having trouble staying upright. She was dizzy from lack of food and her feet bled from the cuts and scrapes. She caught the sound of trickling water to her right and she stumbled in that direction. She hoped it was what she thought, a spring or a creek where she could quench her thirst and rest for a few moments.

She came into a strange oblong clearing where the trees on either side were tilted away from the opening to the sky. At the end of the clearing was a large pool and a small stream meandered away from it down the hill to the south. She kept to the edge of the clearing, until she had no choice but to cross open ground to get to the water. It looked so inviting, clear and sparkling in the fading light of the day. She knelt at the edge of the pool and cupped her hands in the cool water and splashed it onto her face. She felt the instant relief of the cool water and she cupped her hands again, this time drinking the refreshing liquid.

The jolt of the cool water going down her throat and soaking into the parched lining of her mouth sent a wave of relief through her body. She swallowed it as fast as she could, almost choking in her rush to fill her stomach with the life sustaining liquid. She sat back on her heels as the rush that the water in her stomach gave her a renewed sense of energy. She suddenly noticed that there were no bird or insect sounds. Her nervousness returned full force as she looked around the clearing and listened more carefully.

That's when she heard the hoof beats coming from the direction of her escape. The adrenaline rushed into her bloodstream. She grabbed the shirt and dagger, running for the largest tree in sight. She heard the voice of her owner shout as he spotted her running across the clearing. She looked back over her shoulder as she ran and saw that he was almost upon her. He had a whip in one hand and the reins in the other as he charged across the clearing after her. She tried to dodge at the last second before the whip he was wielding found her back, but she wasn't quick enough. The lash cut her from shoulder to buttock as he passed her. The shoulder of the horse struck her and sent her sprawling across the ground.

She lost her grip on the dagger and shirt as she tried to catch herself. Her hands and knees skidded across the grass as Aeresius spun his horse around. She had just regained her feet and was preparing to run for the large tree again when two long rope-like things shot out from a misshapen tree and yanked Aeresius from his horse. His gargled scream stopped as the tree suddenly sprouted arms and she heard the loud cracks of bones being broken. Aeresius's body fell to the ground in a lifeless heap; the tree suddenly separated and part of it flew through the air in an arc and landed next to the fleeing horse. The rope-like things shot out from the upper portion of the thing and they hit the haunches on the horse. The horse screamed and then fell over in a giant spasm and then went still.

What she had taken for a section of the brown tree trunk suddenly shifted color, becoming green like the grass. It moved with a fluid like motion and it turned to face her. She was frozen with fear; the only movement she was capable of was drawing a ragged breath to relieve the crushing ache in her chest. The thing was huge, it was easily twice the height and it's torso was half again as thick as her former owner's. She watched as the rope-like appendages retracted into pouches on the upper shoulders. It had four arms, each ended with hands that had six fingers that would easily exceed the length of her forearm and there were two elbow joints, not one. The beast's head extended from the upper chest on a thick neck, it was flattened and oblong, with two extra large grayish irises, the pupils were vertical slits that expanded and contracted as it approached her. When it blinked the eyelids came together from the sides.

It stopped a few feet away from her quivering form and squatted down to look at her. It's legs bent in two places, folding together like a spring. She didn't know what to do, the fear kept her from moving. A thick black tongue the length of her arm slithered out and waved in the air towards her. It reminded her of a snake's tongue, except this one had six prehensile forks that waved around in all directions. As the tongue retracted back, the beast's mouth opened slightly, it separated in four petal-like flaps that were lined with several rows of hooked teeth. The end of each flap had one large fang that resembled the beak of a hawk. She tried breathing through her nose to keep from making a sound and the strong smell of salty loam filled her nostrils.

She risked a glance at her former owner's body a few feet away and then she took a chance. She slowly moved to her knees and bowed before the beast. She watched it change color as she moved, from the light green of the grass to dark reddish orange, and the salty loam smell changed to hot iron. The thing didn't move other than to track her movement. She prostrated herself at its feet and said one word.

"Master."

She looked at its feet, noticing the four long toes that splayed out to the front and two thick toes faced to the rear. Each long toe ended in a huge hooked claw that retracted and extended as the beast shifted its weight. She felt its fingers touch her hair and then it pulled her face up to its own. The long black tongue slithered out and each of the smaller forks touched the skin on her face. The heat coming from those sinewy waving ends felt like they had just come from the fire. She fought the urge to pull away, but something told her not to move; that her life depended on her ability to stay still. The tongue covered her face in a thin coating of slime, making her skin tingle like she had just scrubbed it with a rough cloth. The flaps of its mouth rippled as it retracted its tongue. It stared into her eyes, the beast blinked twice and it reached out with its lower pair of arms, encircling her waist. It uncoiled those massive legs and stood up, taking her with it.

The upper pair of arms reached out to her and the long triple jointed fingers adjusted her hair away from her face and touched her cheek. What looked like rough skin was actually silky soft and slightly damp. She could feel its inner heat coming through that touch. There seemed to be extra large pads on the ends of its fingers and a slit on the top. She quickly found what those strange slits hid, its razor sharp hooked claws. They rotated out like the claws on its feet did, except on the fingers they completely retracted, hidden from view until it flicked them out. The hands were more articulate versions of its feet, four fingers splayed out to the front of the large palm and it had two thumbs that seemed to rotate on the wrist as it adjusted its grip on her.

The thing's long strides carried them quickly across the clearing to the edge of the pool. It placed one of its hands over her mouth before she could move her head and then they were suddenly in the water and the beast was swimming down. She tried to squirm but its grip was too strong for her to move more than her legs. She closed her eyes and prayed to the gods to save her.

I have, little one. Stop fighting me.

She went limp when that strange voice echoed in her mind. Then it was true! This was a god! She was saved from the Roman Praetor by a god; it had killed to save her. At least, that is what she hoped. They continued to go deeper into the pool, her chest starting to hurt from lack of oxygen and her ears hurt from the pressure. When she thought she was going to pass out, they went through an opening at the bottom of the pool and then there was air. The god removed its hand and she sucked in a deep breath. She coughed and opened her eyes, at least she thought she did, there was no light. She heard the splash of its legs and she felt herself being lifted up out of the water. She heard the strange echo of its footfalls as it walked forward into the dark cave. She assumed it was a cave from the way the sounds bounced around in the dark.

It stopped walking and she felt herself being lowered onto something soft. It felt like cloth, but it wasn't anything she was familiar with. It was cool inside the cave and it contrasted sharply with the temperature of the god's touch. It let go of her and then she heard a metallic sliding sound and then a click. She couldn't feel the presence of the god anymore; the strange smell was gone. She tentatively reached out her hand and touched a cold, smooth surface. She realized that she was inside some kind of box or cage, one with solid smooth sides. She felt the soft cushion beneath her and decided that getting some rest was the best thing. She didn't know what the god would want when it returned, and since she couldn't go anywhere, she didn't have much of a choice. She curled up and went to sleep.

Nauarchus walked away from the room he had shut the primitive female in. He hissed through his nostrils at the name he called himself. Nauarchus meant captain of a ship in the soldier's language, and it was as good as anything to call himself when he would speak to the primitives. They either called him beast or god in their minds just before he killed them, he didn't like the first connotation and the word deus sounded too much like something else in his language and he wasn't about to call himself that. His real name was more of a thought image than a word so he didn't even try to tell them anything when he chose to talk to them. He thought it rather humorous to speak to them just before killing them.