LEANORE 10
By Heck



Comments to heck@beadyeye.net

CHAPTER TEN

WITH A RESOUNDING SMACK, Sextus clapped a hand to his forehead and leaned it
wearily against the grille. He spoke into the metal.

"Oh, shit! That's it. It's all up fer 'er, now!"

One of the gladiators, who had survived his own debut in the arena, looked up
from tending his wounds.

"What is?"

"'Er 'ole fuckin' life, that's all. It's bad enough that she's refused the
kill. But she's only been an' gone an' turned 'er back on the Domina, that's
all! She'll be executed, fer sure". He gave a deep sigh. "All that potential.
All that value. All gone to waste! Look. 'Ere she comes".

Back ramrod straight and head held high, Leanore walked across the arena
toward the gate. It rumbled up on its mechanism to admit her.

Sextus's eyes were on the Domina as Leanore passed him. He expected her to be
furious, and was surprised to see a look of quiet contemplation on her
classically beautiful features. As he watched, she rose and left the dais
without any regard for the crowd. He turned to Leanore.

"What the 'ell were you thinkin'? Why didn't you finish the kill?"

"I told you I do not kill, unless I have to. Shimon was beaten. I had no
reason to kill him".

"No reason!? No reason!? Don't yer realise the penalty for defying the Domina?
She don't take kindly to it. She executes people who annoy her". He swept a
hand across his bald pate. "You've only gone an' throw yer life away, that's
all. What a waste!"

Leanore laid a cool hand on his sweaty shoulder.

"Do not worry", she smiled with a courage she did not feel. "I am not to kill
easy". She moved aside to allow the stretcher-bearers, carrying Shimon between
them, to pass. A healer walked with them, and she grabbed his arm. Her voice
was filled with genuine concern. "How is he?"

"Just stunned", the healer replied. "He might have a bit of a concussion and a
stiff neck, and he'll have a hell of a headache for a few days, but he'll be
fine. The rest of his injuries are fairly minor. He'll get over it".

"It's not 'im yer should be worryin' about", Sextus blustered. "Yer own future
is more in question than 'is is. She'll prob'ly 'ave yer tortured to death".
He raised his arms, letting them fall against his sides with a slap. "It's out
of my hands, o' course. There's nothing I c'n do about it. Yer better go and
get dressed, an' wait 'til we 'ear from 'er".

He watched her go, brows knitted with a mixture of anger and regret. All that
work, he thought. All the training an' effort I put into 'er. She could've
been a champion. It would've made my reputation as a trainer. All gone to
waste.

Leanore threaded her way through the gladiators and attendants. If anything
could be said about Sextus, it was this; he cared about his stable of fighters
in the same way a racehorse trainer cares about his charges. He saw to it that
they were well fed and housed, and their needs were attended to by his own
team of attendants. He gave his clients a guarantee that he would take them
back if they did not fulfil his promises and, if they fought well and survived
long enough [having been unsold or returned], the males were put to stud to
live out their lives in comparative luxury. Females who performed well in the
arena were destined to die there - the people always liked to see the women.
Those who acquitted themselves bravely but less than brilliantly were kept for
breeding, and lived quiet but fulfilling lives until the ravages of repeated
childbirth destroyed their usefulness. Those of either sex who did not shine
were sold on again, and ended up as household servants, the males often as
eunuchs.

At the rear of the quarters, attendants awaited the survivors, ready to
administer to them post-combat. For the most part, they were not slaves, but
employees of Sextus and included doctors, midwives, masseuses, and so on.

Leanore went to a tiled area, where two young women waited for her. Completely
naked, they were strikingly beautiful females, but the contrast between the
two pale, fragile, waif-like creatures and the statuesque, magnificently
muscled black amazon reduced them almost into insignificance. Watching, Sextus
knew which of the three he preferred.

Flashing her small but strong white teeth in a brief smile, Leanore stepped
between the two girls. She stood relaxed with feet slightly apart, while they
removed her now grubby loincloth, revealing her in total and splendid nudity.
Using buckets of warm water, they began to soap her sweaty body, spreading the
foamy lather with their soft hands. Their gentle ministrations which, Leanore
was forced to admit, if only to herself, were more than a little arousing,
helped to make this harsh life into which she had been plunged more bearable.

The women's hands covered every inch of her glorious body, and Leanore closed
her eyes, savouring the experience. Their fingers moved slowly across the full
roundness of her shoulders and arms, and slid over the iron hardness of her
flat belly, down to the great curving muscles of her thighs. Occasionally,
their breasts or another part of their bodies would brush against hers, and
they paid a great deal of attention to her high, full breasts, or skittered
across her erect nipples, sending little flutters of pleasure through her
being.

"So strong", one said. "So beautiful".

"Mm", her companion agreed. "Your skin is so smooth and soft, yet your muscles
are like iron. You feel like velvet-covered teak".

It was part of their job to flatter the fighters, to stroke their egos and
make them feel good about themselves. This time, though, they were totally
sincere. They were both in awe of this tall, powerful woman.

"Arms up, please", one said. Leanore linked her fingers behind her head,
raising the twin peaks of two large, rounded biceps as a result. Even though
not fully flexed, the hard muscles were more than impressive.

The girls washed around her smooth armpits. Leanore's eyes were still closed,
and they smiled conspiratorially at each other. Giggling like a pair of
children, each interlocked her fingers around an oak-hard bicep and, not
without a little effort, heaved themselves clear of the floor, to dangle
sniggering from Leanore's immensely powerful arms.

Their weight, around ninety or so pounds each, did not even unbalance the
woman. A slow smile spread over Leanore's lovely face as she realised what was
happening and, eyes still closed, joined in the joke.

"Could you girls check for me", she said. "Only, I think a couple of gnats
must have settled on my arms. They tickle!"

The giggling pair peered at each other around Leanore's deep chest, laughing
in amazement at her sheer strength. Leanore, of course, could have supported
the two in this way nearly all day, without breaking sweat, but it was the
strength in their own frail arms that failed, dropping them back to their feet
after a couple of minutes.

"You two!" Sextus's stern but not unkind voice broke the frivolous mood.
"Finish up an' get 'er dressed. He met Leanore's gaze with almost sorrowful
eyes, and spoke as if reciting. "The Lady Julia Domina summons you to attend
upon 'er with all 'aste".

Leanore frowned as buckets of fresh water sluiced the suds from her body. The
girls, towelled her dry with squares of clean, coarse cloth, and dressed her
in a short white tunic, fastened over one shoulder with a bronze clasp and
cinched at the waist with a leather belt.

Eschewing footwear of any kind, as was her wont, she followed Sextus to where
a pair of heavily armed and armoured guards were waiting. The trainer said
nothing, but gave her a long and almost sympathetic stare before leaving her
at the point of their swords.

Without taking his eyes off her for a second, one of the guards thumped on a
small door at his back. It swung open, and Leanore saw that a small, enclosed
cart had been drawn right up to it. The guard moved aside, and motioned with
his hand.

"Get in". There was no emotion in his voice, and Leanore could tell that he
was a consummate professional who would not hesitate to kill her at the
slightest provocation.

Nor would his mate, who jabbed her sharply in the buttock with his swordpoint
for emphasis.

Leanore knew that she was fast enough and strong enough to disable the first
guard, and probably both of them, but was smart enough to know that she would
be unlikely to accomplish that without being skewered by at least one of them,
leading to serious injury and, possibly, death. She got in.

The interior of the cart was clean but dingy. There were no seats, and she was
forced to kneel on the wooden floor to avoid banging her head on the ceiling.
A series of ventilation holes had been drilled into the sides, but were so
close to the roof that she could not get an eye to one to see out. The
tailgate closed and she was alone in the dark.

About thirty minutes of lurching, bumping, clattering progress later, the cart
came to a halt. The tailgate was lowered, and she stepped out to find herself
surrounded by javelin-wielding soldiers in a high, echoing, marble room. The
floor was covered in intricate mosaic, and the walls were polished to such a
high gloss that she could see her faint reflection.

There were eight soldiers forming a ring of wickedly sharp points around her.
Her chances of escape, she judged, were zero at present, and she elected to
let the situation play out until she had a better handle on events. One of the
soldiers, a centurion to judge from the plume on his helmet, spoke sharply as
he fastened heavy manacles to her wrists.

"Don't do anything unless you're told. Don't speak unless you're spoken to.
Don't make any sudden moves. You might just survive a little longer. That
way".

The marched her to a high, arched doorway and down a long, windowless corridor
dimly lit by oil lamps in recesses in the walls. The military rhythm of
sandalled feet, marching in perfect time, echoed in the gloom. At the far end
a pair of carved oak doors awaited them, and the centurion used a gilded
knocker, in the shape of a leopard's head with a brass ring in its mouth, to
announce their arrival.

"Come". A pleasant female voice sounded from within. Two of the guards pushed
wide the doors, and Leanore was ushered forward. The contrast between this
room and the dim corridor could not have been more pronounced.

Like everywhere else she had been in the building, the walls and floors were
lined with pink-veined marble, inlaid with exquisite designs. The walls
carried panels in which heroic figures were depicted in combative or athletic
pursuits, while the floor displayed a glorious sunburst design in both vivid
and subtle colours. Luxurious rugs were scattered about, carefully positioned
to appear random, and several low marble chaises were draped with velvet and
strewn with deep cushions. A fire blazed in a hearth that seemed to have been
carved from a single block of onyx, and cast a cheery light into the room,
complimented by a dozen oil lamps that made it as light as day.

The ceiling was open to the sky, cunningly contrived so that only the most
balmy of breezes penetrated the interior, and allowing a magnificent view of
the star-studded night outside. One wall was no more than a series of fluted
columns, giving access to a marbled patio and the formal gardens beyond. On
the edge of hearing, Leanore detected the sound of a tinkling fountain.

The centrepiece of the room was a large, beautifully carved and polished
table. Like most other things in the room, subject as it was to the rain from
time to time, it was made of cool marble and bore bowls of fruit and
sweetmeats. The guards brought Leanore to stand at one end of it. In a
comfortable chair at the opposite end, looking radiant and dressed in silken
finery, Julia Domina gazed at the arrival with unabashed curiosity and just a
hint of amusement.

"You may leave us". Her voice was soft and silky, but held the unmistakable
confidence of one used to being obeyed without question. The centurion looked
uncomfortable.

"But, Lady ."

"Leave us, I said". The dulcet voice now carried the whiplash of command. The
soldiers were left with little alternative.

"Ma'am. Yes, ma'am. We will be close by".

Leanore met her gaze unwaveringly as the guards left. The glittering grey eyes
that stared back were full of intelligence and cunning, but totally and
utterly cold.

"Before you get any silly ideas, let me point out one or two things". The
Domina picked up a crystal glass filled with rich red wine, and stirred the
liquid with a painted fingernail. "You are manacled. The table between us is
nine cubits long. And there is a eunuch up there", she pointed to the open
ceiling, "with a crossbow aimed at your heart". She gave a small chuckle. "You
would be dead before you moved two paces".

Leanore did not let anything show in her face.

"Why am I here?" was all she said. The red haired woman's lips parted in a
smile.

"Did no-one tell you? I can't believe that. You refused a kill in the arena.
That is enough". Her face clouded briefly. "But as if that wasn't enough, you
showed contempt to me. Nobody does that. I could have you killed out of hand".

"Then why do you not?" Leanore injected just a touch of boredom into the
words, just enough to irritate the Domina slightly. The woman paused briefly
before replying.

"I don't know. Now that I've met you, I'm not sure that I like you. Where is
that indomitable will, that prideful insolence you showed in the arena? You
just seem like a sullen, moody bitch to me, and I'm beginning to get bored
with you".

The last two sentences showed Leanore where her best path lay. She stood proud
and tall.

"I may be bored too". This time she put a sharp edge on her voice, but was
careful not to overplay her hand. The other woman allowed herself a tiny
laugh.

"You amuse me. I have plans for you", she said. "I shall buy you from Sextus.
I'll give him a fair price, but that doesn't really matter. He'll have no
choice. You'll fight for me. You'll represent me in the arena, and I'll make
lots of money from you. Eventually, you'll fight in the great Hippodrome at
Capitol, and you'll make my name famous. You'll be the champion of Julia
Domina! How does that sound?"

"You give me choice?" Leanore let a touch of sarcasm through. The Domina came
to her feet in a smooth motion, letting a short snort of derision escape her.

"Of course not, silly child. Walk with me. Keep at least three cubits between
us at all times, and remember that crossbow". She was a tall woman in her own
right but, on her feet, the top of her head barely reached Leanore's nose. She
moved with a natural grace and regal bearing as she led the way onto the patio
and rested a haunch on the balustrade. "You'll be a credit to me, I'm sure".
Her eyes filled with lust as they scanned up and down Leanore's body. "I'm
sure".

"What do I get from this 'arrangement'?" Leanore brazenly asked. The question
caused the older woman to laugh heartily.

"Such boldness! Such naughtiness! Such naivety. What do you get? My dear girl,
just consider the alternatives!" Her laughter subsided to an amused grin. "But
a fair question, I suppose. Let's see now. You shall have the best food, the
best clothing. You'll live in my house and travel with me. You'll have a
gymnasium all your own, equipped to your own specifications, and limited
freedom within the confines of my entourage. I'll provide you with men, or
women, if you prefer, and your own servant to take care of you. But most
importantly from your point of view, you get to go on living. Good deal, eh?"
She rose and took a step forward, fingers playing with the hem of her
décolletage. "And, who knows? In time, you may come to find other ... benefits".
The look in her eyes told Leanore exactly what kind of benefits she meant.

"What of your husband? Will not he have something to say in all this?"

"Pah!" Her expression did not disguise her feelings. "Effluvius? Effluvius is
an irrelevance. He's an old man, who spends most of his time at the senate.
And when he's not there, he's at the baths, being pampered by those whores.
What do I care about Effluvius? He does what I tell him, just like everyone
else".

Leanore took a step forward, trying to convey as much sexuality as she could.
It was obvious that the noblewoman felt a great deal of lust toward her, and
she thought it would be to her advantage to appear to reciprocate.

"Why wait, then?"

"Ah, ah, ah!" Julia Domina stopped her with a soft manicured hand on her
chest. "Don't forget the crossbow". She moved away with a kittenish sigh. "Oh,
the thought is a nice one. I do like that fine body of yours. But not yet. Not
just yet. I don't trust you, and we both know you could snap my spine like a
twig. You're not getting that close to me yet. But soon. Perhaps". She clapped
her hands hard, twice. "Crassus will take you to your rooms, help you get
settled".

Shuffling footsteps sounded against the marble and an old man, toga hanging
from his aged bones but still carrying himself with some dignity, hobbled out
onto the patio.

"Crassus, this is Leanore. She'll be staying with us from now on. Show her to
her rooms, and then." She took up a wax tablet and a stylus. "Take this note
to Sextus the Gladiator Trainer. And be quick, old man". She settled back on
her perch atop the balustrade, gazing out at the stars, as if the other two
had vanished from her presence already.

Following the old butler, Leanore's mind was in a whirl. She could hardly
believe her luck. Not only was she still alive, for now, but it appeared that
she was going to live in comparative ease. For the moment, at least.

Having to moderate her pace to stay level with the old man, she took in her
surroundings with unhidden curiosity. Every conceivable surface, it seemed,
was clad in the same pinkie-white marble or tiled with complicated mosaics.
All the fixtures and fittings were of the highest quality and screamed of
breeding and money. The sheer opulence of the place almost overwhelmed her.

"Have you been here for long?" she asked, for want of something better to say.

"Fifty years". Crassus's lined face betrayed no emotion. "I have served the
master since I was taken as a young man, and he was even younger".

"You are a slave too, then?"

"Hmph. They don't like to call us that. Bound servants, they prefer to say.
But, yes. That's what we are, all right. The mistress seems to have taken a
shine to you, young lady".

"Seems like it". The tone of his cracked old voice prompted her next question.
"That is a good thing, is it not?"

"For now. Until she gets bored with you. Then she'll toss you aside like a
broken toy. So don't get too comfortable".

"I will not. I will just have to keep her interested".

"Hmph. She gets bored very easily. These are your rooms".