To Love Again - Bertrice Small [154]
“You have eaten well, my friends,” he said to his guests, “and now I have a little treat for you. These two women are the most exclusive whores in Byzantium. They are pretty little rabbits, are they not? We are going to have a little game. We shall release these two little rabbits into the gardens, and then you, as randy a pack of dogs as I’ve ever seen, will chase after them. They will hide from you, will you not my beauties? But someone will find them, and whoever the lucky men are will have their pleasure of these women for this entire night. There are no losers in this game, however. The rest of you will have your choice of any other woman in the house after our game is over. What think you?”
The gladiators cheered Justin Gabras lustily.
“By the gods,” the Hun said loudly, “you give us a difficult choice, my lord. Both of these women are real beauties!”
“Which do you favor?” Gabras asked him.
“I am not certain,” the net man replied. He turned to his companion. “What about you, Wulf Ironfist? Which do you prefer?”
“The one I catch,” the Saxon replied, and his eyes met Cailin’s.
Casia quickly looked to her friend. Cailin was paler than she had ever seen her. Her great violet eyes mirrored both pain and shock. Is it he? Casia mouthed silently over the laughter that greeted the Saxon’s remark, and Cailin nodded. If anyone catches Cailin, Casia thought, it must be the Saxon. She looked straight at the Hun and smiled her most seductive smile.
“Are you as good out of the ring as you are in it?” she purred suggestively. “If you are, then I shall be happy to be caught in your net.”
To Casia’s surprise, the Hun turned beet-red as his companions whooped with amusement. So he was shy. But her bold words had certainly made it plain to the others that he was her choice. None of the others would dare to come after her now, for shy though he might be, the Hun would want her. They would not confront him over a woman, she knew. She could see the puzzled way in which the Saxon was looking at Cailin. Now she must make certain of him.
“Cailin Drusus.” She said her friend’s name loudly. “Do you have a preference among these fine men? I think the Saxon would suit you admirably.”
“I think he would,” Cailin replied, having caught on to Casia’s little game.
“So you are no better than the rest of them,” Justin Gabras sneered. “Why is it that all women are born whores?” He did not see how pale the handsome gladiator had become, nor the tightening of the Saxon’s lips and the flash of anger in the Saxon’s eyes at his words.
Without waiting for an answer to his question, Justin Gabras dumped the two women from his lap. “Run into the garden and hide yourselves, my beauties. I will count to fifty, and then loose these lusty beasts on you. Go!”
The two women ran from the room, through the marble pillars, and out into the early evening twilight. When they had gone a ways together into the dimness, Casia stopped a moment and said, “Hide yourself well, Cailin, and do not come out unless you see the Saxon!” Then she was gone down a grassy path. Cailin fled to the depths of the gardens, finally climbing into the branches of a peach tree. It was unlikely that anyone would think to look for her up there.
“Fifty!” she heard Justin Gabras call out.
The gladiators began to thrash through the gardens, noisily seeking the two women. Within a few minutes she heard the rough voice of the Hun crowing triumphantly, “I’ve caught a little rabbit, lads!” and Casia’s coy shriek of false surprise. The hunt for Cailin grew more intense, but she felt safe amid the branches of the tree. She could even see some of the men below, looking under bushes, behind the fountains, and among the decorative statuary for her. They will never find me, she thought smugly, but then what? How could she escape Villa Maxima without her clothes, without a litter? Suddenly the branch upon which she was perched gave way, and Cailin fell with