Cardea

The crowd roared as Libertine removed his helmet and looked to the emperor’s box to see the verdict. His adversary lay in the dust at his feet. The battle had been difficult; it had been an excellent match. But Arden’s trident had been no match for his double swords. He waited and hoped that his friend would be allowed to nurse his wounds and fight another day. But the emperor appeased the crowd, and with one well-aimed strike; Libertine stilled the heart of his fallen friend.

As Libertine strode out of the arena, his master collected his purse. He watched with a raised eyebrow as he greedily counted the money. “Soon,” he reminded himself, “Soon I will earn my freedom.” He washed the dust from his face and waited for his master.

“Libertine,” he whispered, “Your presence has been requested by the emperor’s advisor. We are going as soon as the games are finished. You are wanted at the palace. I have a girl waiting to get you cleaned up.” Libertine raised an eyebrow. He had been invited to some aristocratic households before; he had done some fighting for a party’s entertainment. He had even been summoned once or twice to bed a lovely and rich woman who wasn’t afraid to pay for her pleasure.

He doubted that he was being summoned for either purpose. There was no telling with Emperor Quirinus. If the rumors were to be believed, he was mad. Libertine had heard many stories about the emperor’s strange behavior. His wife, the love of his youth, had died last summer. People said he had mourned her as no man had mourned a lover before. Others said this mourning was because he had no heir. By the autumn, Quirinus has taken a new bride. Her name was Cardea. The young woman was the daughter of Quirinus’ closest advisor and many viewed the marriage as one of manipulation on the part of the girl’s father. Libertine had seen her many times. She was seated next to her husband and what had drawn Libertine’s attention was that she had once pleaded for a gladiator’s life. Everyone in the arena who could see them could tell the emperor was displeased with her, but she begged him. Libertine had to admire that courage. Very few people stood up to Quirinus and lived to tell about it.

He went to his quarters and just as his master promised there was a woman there to get him ready. She bathed his sore muscles, her expert fingers working out the tired and sore spots. She tended his wounds, mostly scratches. He looked her over as she offered him a clean tunic. She was attractive enough, but he was too curious about what might lay in store for him at the palace to placate his lust in the squalor of his cell.

In the dark of night he followed his master. He had not roamed freely since his boyhood and no longer knew the city. He took in every sight and smell. The sounds of the city streets were more overwhelming than that of the roaring crowd. The arena’s crowd was one massive voice; in the streets there were snippets of a thousand conversations floating by him. When they reached the palace a guard ushered them to a side entrance. The emperor’s advisor met them there. He was a tall, gaunt man and his expression was somber.

“Young man, I am about to take you in to the Emperor. He is going to make a request of you. People do not survive a refusal of Quirinus.” Libertine nodded his assent and wondered if this man thought him a fool. He was led into the room and immediately dropped to his knee, head lowered. His master stood in the shadows and nodded his approval.

“My champion, Libertine, I am so pleased to see you this evening.” Quirinus was just a few feet away from him. His hand wrapped around a deep goblet of wine, his gray hair wild around his head. “I ask a favor of you, a favor that only you can perform. I have looked at all of the men in the empire and it is you that I have chosen.” He motioned for Libertine to stand. The gladiator straightened and Quirinus eyed him up and down as if he were a horse to be bought or bartered for. “Yes, he is perfect. Tell him what he must do.” Then Quirinus rushed from the room snickering.

Libertine turned and looked at his master and the advisor. The advisor addressed them nervously.

“The Empress has yet to conceive a son. If she does not soon, the Emperor is talking of finding another more pleasing wife. My daughter’s life depends on having a son and the Emperor has been unable to consummate this marriage. “ His voice was hushed and frenzied. “The emperor wants you to bed his wife and conceive a child with her. You are his prized dimacheri and he believes the gods have told him that you are the man to do this. It was the purpose of today’s match. He was choosing between you and the other gladiator.”

Libertine’s master negotiated a fee as Libertine’s mind raced. This was unbelievable; a man had died today because the emperor was impotent? He reasoned with himself that men had died because the emperor was in a foul mood and that wasn’t any better reason.

“What of the girl? Does she agree this is the will of Quirinus’ gods?” The advisor eyed him coolly.

“The girl, is your Empress and she wants to live, so she will be … amenable.”

Libertine was escorted to a sumptuous chamber, his escort opened the massive door and then he was left inside alone. The air was scented with the mixture of florals and spices he imagined when he conjured the image of his aristocratic lover. Clean, feminine and unlike anything he had smelled before or since. The light was soft. In the center of the room was a carafe of wine and cushions covered in hues of plum, scarlet and gold. He sighed and poured some wine into a goblet worth far more than all of purses in a year.

He looked up when he heard her bare feet on the stone floor. She really was as lovely as men had said. She was young for Quirinus, but a woman in her own right. She was not just a girl as she appeared from her box in the arena. Her slender form was wrapped in a sheath of soft shimmering fabric. Her dark hair and dark eyes were striking against her fair skin. He smirked.

“Quirinus must be half dead to not be able to bed you.” He uttered half out of nervousness but also because he wanted to put her at ease and the women he had bedded before had always seemed to respond to flattery. She flinched and put her finger to her lips.

“The Emperor is watching. I can feel his eyes on me. “ She whispered as she sat beside him primly. “ I am Cardea, Libertine. I am sorry your friend died today. My father said you had trained together since you were boys.” He nodded and watched her face. Her eyes were soft with compassion but he could sense her fear. That was a skill that had kept him alive, when he sensed fear clutch his opponent he would unleash his most ferocious assault. He had never had to lie in the dust and pray that he would receive mercy. The fear of others had kept him victorious. Making warriors feel that fear made him feel powerful but he didn’t like the feeling of knowing that she was afraid of him. He poured her a generous glass of wine.

“Drink this and steady your nerve. There is no need to be afraid of me, little one. This is beyond the control of both of us. Our fates have been decided. I will not hurt you and we will both gain the promise of one more day on this earth.” Libertine was a slave and used to not having control. He told the lovely empress this. She nodded and drank her wine. He watched her cheeks flush. She really was lovely. He admired the soft curves of her breasts, her feminine fair skin. She looked too fine for his scarred and rough hands.

“Has he ever touched you, Cardea?” She shook her head.

“He says that he finds me unappealing. That I cannot stir up the fire of any man’s heart.” He saw the subtle change in her face, the fear replaced by an emotion he could not read at first. It wasn’t until he kissed her that he knew what it was. She was ashamed. Ashamed that her husband did not want her. He smiled to himself. He would make this exquisite woman feel wanted. He could make no guarantee that his seed would bring a son, but he wanted to leave her feeling like the beautiful woman that she was.

His mouth was strong and rough on her soft and pliant lips. He felt her body stiffen as his tongue pushed into her warm mouth. His hands cupped her face. He had been given no instructions, but he wanted this woman to feel pleasure. A woman’s pleasure had never been so important to him before. He felt her mouth begin to respond as his fingers meshed in the silk of her dark hair. His mouth slid to her throat, her head thrown back offering him more. His lips nuzzled and kissed her neck hungrily and then slid to the tops of her breasts that spilled from her gown. She closed her eyes as she lay back on the cushions. His body covered hers. She nestled against the heat of his warm skin.

Cardea’s mind raced. This man was not her husband. How could her body betray her like this? She was supposed to submit to this, not relish every touch this man lavished on her body. She bit her lip and closed her eyes trying to fight the warmth that was spreading through her skin. She gasped as she felt his hands undo the laces of her gown. It took only a few tugs and her gown was just a heap of fabric beside her.

Cardea watched as his eyes drank her in, his gaze lingering. One of his hands cupped her breast.

“Emperor or no, Cardea, you are beautiful. Any man would face both of my swords to be where I am, right now. “ His head lowered and he began to suckle her breasts, his hands kneading her feminine flesh. She tried to still her hips, but her body arched against him with need. He saw her flush deepen. “Shh, my little one. There is no shame here for you. Let me show you what this lovely body is for.” His voice was husky but his words freed her. Her hands cradled his head to his chest. He took one nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it until the pink skin puckered in between his lips.

From his hiding place Quirinus gasped. He never expected his shy young bride to respond like this. He had chosen a gladiator because she was horrified by the death and violence in the arena. In his mind he had seen her cowering and crying as his chosen warrior ravaged her. This was not working out the way he had planned at all.

But seeing his shy little bride on her back wanting more, not only made him jealous, he felt himself becoming aroused. The pale soft-spoken girl had never managed that before. He watched torn between throwing out the slave and taking her himself and watching her find her pleasure with the brute.

Libertine kissed down her smooth belly, his hands caressing her warm skin. Libertine shed his tunic wanting to feel his body cover hers. Everything about her was feminine, her scent, her skin, and the gentle needy sounds escaping her lips from the back of her throat. Her body transported him to a new world. In her arms he was free, there was no impending battles, no blood, no death just freedom. For a few moments, he was just a man.

He slipped his hand between them as he kissed her deeply. His hand caressed her soft mound. A single finger slipped into her slit. He gently pushed his finger inside of her, she moaned against his kiss. She was slick with need. His finger pressed deeper, as he ravished her with kisses. He began to fuck her with his finger. Her soft, wet cunt clutched his finger.

Her eyes were wide with confusion. Her breath kept locking in her chest and her body arched off of the cushions. She felt as if each lunge of his finger would push her into oblivion. His eyes met hers.

“Cardea, trust me little one. Let it happen.” Then he felt her release. She cried out against his neck as she felt the pleasure of release wash over her for the first time. He positioned himself quickly. He drew her legs apart and pressed the head of his cock to her opening. He knew this first stroke would hurt but her cry still rattled him. He held her face in his hands and kissed her face as her body adjusted to his.

“Libertine.” She whispered again and again as he began to slide in and out of her body. He willed himself to wait. Her body fit him like a glove. This lovely empress writhing beneath him was a sight that could bring a man to his knees; paired with her touch it took all he had to take her slowly.

Quirinus stroked himself as he watched in horror and in lust. He took a few steps closer as he watched her arms twine around the slave’s neck, her sleek legs spread even more. He listened to her sounds become more frenzied. His anger, jealousy and lust danced with his madness, even the Emperor had no idea whether he was pleased or angered by this outcome.

Cardea and Libertine found their pleasure together. She clung to him as he jetted his seed deep inside of her. Her lips planting hundreds of soft kisses against his neck. He laid his head on her chest as their bodies stilled and he could feel the fluttering of her heartbeat. He kissed her eyelids and her forehead. She could string no words together, she just sighed contently as she clung to him.

Quirinus had seen enough. He stormed to the lovers and threw Cardea’s gown at her. “Get up, get up and get out.” Libertine hastily got off of her as she wrapped her gown around her glistening skin. Her husband grabbed her arm and urged her away from Libertine.

Quirinus flung open the door and pulled in Libertine’s master. “Get him out and speak of this to no one or you will both die.” Quirinus pulled on his tunic and followed his master out. He left hoping that Cardea would be all right. Quirinus’ face had been filled with wrath. Libertine wondered if either of them would live through the night.

Libertine suffered the next few days. His dreams were full of Cardea. Images of them being lovers, being husband and wife. He had often dreamed of being a freeman, but in these new dreams she was with him. Cardea’s belly was swelled with a child and she was sleeping beside him. These dreams were so real that he could even smell the almond orchards he had always dreamed of owning.

It was not long before Libertine was summoned to the palace again. Cardea had not conceived and Quirinus wanted his son. But more than anything he wanted to see Cardea transform into Libertine’s lover. Libertine tried to hide his excitement as he was escorted through the hushed hallways to Cardea’s chamber. When the door opened he felt his heart race as the fragrance hit him. And there she was in the firelight. She smiled at him, her eyes filled with delight. She motioned to the balcony above but he shrugged his shoulders as if to say it was no matter to him if his emperor was watching as long as he was with her.

He sat beside her and whispered how much he missed her, how much he longed for her. His hands cupped her face. His thumb rubbing across her lower lip. Her eyes closed and he could feel the heat rise within her. Soft sounds of need tumbled from her lips. Then they were locked in an embrace. He held her body to his with all of his strength. She unfastened her gown as he kissed her. She straddled his lap and as her mouth tasted his greedily. His fingers found her. She was already wet. Wet and warm and ready to be touched. He wanted to ask if her husband had made love to her, but he couldn’t bear to ask. He didn’t want that picture in his mind as he made love to her.

“Don’t make me wait, Libertine.” She whispered as his fingers rubbed her until she came in his arms. She was breathless and flushed as he guided his cock into her. Her legs wrapped around him as he thrust up into her. She arched her back, her hands in her hair as he kneaded her breasts. Her eyes closed as she moaned softly, the sound floating up to her husband.

It was her sounds that did him in. Libertine watched as she gasped and tried to find her pleasure quietly. She whispered into his ear that she had wanted him desperately. That she had prayed that she would not yet conceive so that she could be with him again. He felt himself climax as he she continued her loving litany against his ear.

This time Quirinus did not rush in. The lovers stayed in each other’s arms for a few moments. He kissed away her tears as she dreaded his departure.

“Libertine, stay safe please. I could not bear to watch it if you were hurt in the arena.” He shushed her and tried to placate her fears but they both knew they were real. There was a knock at the door and he had to dress and go as he was bid,

For months Libertine waited for news. He dreamed of her more and more. In his dreams, Cardea would be beside him and there was a sweet faced baby boy at her breast.

Each time he was called up to fight in the arena he looked for her and when it was not his turn he asked the other gladiators if they had seen the empress. One of the slave girls finally told him why she was not present.

“The empress is going to bear a son. The rumor is that she is ill, but others say she is heartsick for a lover.” The slave girl went about her business and didn’t notice his response. He was afraid for the empress. After meeting the emperor he knew that she was no more free than he was. He might some day earn his freedom but she had been traded into the hands of a mad man for her father’s political future.

Libertine tried to glean any information of her he could from those he came in contact with, but all anyone knew was that she was with child. A few months later the Emperor announced a celebration in honor of Empress Cardea’s birthday.

It was no surprise to him when his master told him he would be fighting at the event. His master hung his head as he told him that he was battling three men.

The battle was inevitable. There was no fighting the will of the Emperor. He wondered if Quirinus had sealed his fate that first night or if it was true that Cardea was heartbroken and longed for him. Libertine smiled. If he was going to die today he hoped he was dying because Cardea loved him.

The crowd roared when Libertine entered the arena. He looked up to the emperor’s box and there she stood. She was even more radiant than he had remembered. Her belly and breasts were swollen by her pregnancy. He could see the fear on her face and for that he was sorry. He closed his eyes as the other gladiators entered and pictured her face as she had writhed beneath him whispering his name.

Then Libertine drew both of his swords and bowed for his empress. Cardea begged the gods silently that Libertine would stay undefeated. She watched each blow, each maneuver, he was quick and skilled but against three men he was wearing quickly.

Quirinus laughed when the biggest of Libertine’s opponents pierced his skin. Cardea cried out and those seated with them saw the mask of anger settling on the emperor’s face. Libertine used all of skills, even killing the weakest of his opponents but he knew it was too little. He just regretted knowing Cardea would watch him die. He remembered her begging for the life of an injured gladiator. That man had squirmed and screamed in the dust. He knew he would do no such thing. He would die with grace.

Then the blow came. He was disarmed and bleeding. He felt the ground hit him before he knew he was falling. He heard the gasp of the crowd. He saw Cardea. He saw her tears. He knew today was the day that he would die. No more master, no more dreams of Cardea and longing for freedom.

He heard his crowd shout in outrage as the emperor gave the thumbs down. Libertine looked up at Cardea one last time. She really was lovely. She was too fine for any man that could not recognize her beauty. Libertine blew her a kiss and prayed his brother in battle would strike true and quickly. And out of respect for the great Libertine, he did.

Cardea soon gave birth to the next emperor. Being the mother of the heir to throne kept her safe from her husband’s madness and she never went to the arena again after the defeat and death of Libertine.