The Forgotten Legion

  Jovina did not hesitate. 'One of his other slaves then?'

  She shook her head. Velvinna had always been adamant about their parentage. 'A woman knows these things,' she would mutter darkly. 'Mother was raped by a noble one evening as she came back from the Forum Olitorium.'

  Jovina was unsurprised. 'And did Gemellus often lie with her?'

  'Nearly every night.' Fabiola felt anger deep in her belly. Revenge on Gemellus would give a purpose to life in the brothel. That and trying to rescue her mother and Romulus. Best of all would be to discover the rapist's identity.

  If it was possible.

  Something to plan, while she pleasured men. Something to dilute the horror of her situation.

  'See much of what happened?'

  'No, though I did see him naked once when he was excited.' She recoiled at the memory of the merchant's erection.

  'You've watched dogs in the street mating?'

  'Yes.'

  'Heard other slaves talking about sex?'

  'Many times.'

  'It's much the same as with animals, although you must know more positions.' Jovina quickly described those that most men preferred.

  Fabiola struggled to control her surprise at the more outlandish ones. Gemellus knew only one.

  'Make lots of noise. The customer must always think you are in ecstasy.'

  'Yes, Madam,' she replied quickly.

  'The first time a man penetrates you, it will really hurt. Probably be a fair amount of blood too. That's normal. After that, it often feels good.' She cackled. 'There is more for you to learn, but the others will instruct you. Make absolutely sure that you can give oral pleasure.'

  Fabiola forced a smile, relieved that the lesson seemed to be over.

  'The room is yours to do with as you will.' Jovina grinned, and the wrinkles on her whitened face became more pronounced. 'But no men are allowed back here. The chambers where customers are entertained lie at the front of the building. The doormen, Benignus and Vettius, are always nearby. Scream if you need them.'

  'When do I start?'

  'Tomorrow. I just paid out eight thousand sestertii so you've got to start earning. But I'll let you settle in today. Find your way about the place.'

  Fabiola kept her voice calm. 'What about food?'

  'Some more meat on those bones won't hurt business.' Jovina laughed at her own joke and gestured at the slave who had been standing behind, unseen. 'Docilosa will show you round. The clothes room is worth seeing. It's got a better selection than any bazaar in Rome.'

  Fabiola's mouth opened.

  'And make sure you dress seductively.'

  A smile flitted across Docilosa's face.

  'Yes, Madam.'

  'Good. You will do well.' Jovina turned and was gone, leaving a strong smell of perfume.

  Fabiola glanced at Docilosa, who was a similar age to her mother. Short, plain and clad in a simple smock, she had a kind face.

  'Can I have something to eat?'

  'Of course,' Docilosa nodded. 'Follow me.'

  Soon Fabiola was seated by a rough wooden table in the kitchen, devouring a piece of bread and cheese. The ordeal had given her an enormous appetite, increased by the fabulous selection of foods on the shelves.

  Gemellus had never given his slaves enough to eat, and her childhood had been dogged by hunger.

  Slaves clad only in loincloths looked at the new girl curiously. Docilosa pointed them out one by one.

  'That's Catus, the main cook. He's all right, but watch his temper.'

  Unable to hear what was being said, the balding man chopping meat at a large wooden block smiled.

  Fabiola soaked up the information. She wanted to know everyone in the Lupanar.

  'The two tending the fire are Nepos and Tancinus. The girl sweeping the floor is Germanilla.'

  The men sweating over the hot brick oven glanced over without interest. Though relatively young, both were quite overweight.

  'Do they get extra food?'

  'Of course not,' said Docilosa. 'They've been castrated.'

  Fabiola gasped.

  'To make sure they leave the girls alone. You're valuable merchandise and Jovina guards her property closely.'

  'What about Catus?'

  'Catus only likes men.' Docilosa's tone was scornful. 'And Madam rarely buys any – they're too much trouble.'

  'And the doormen?'

  'They receive favours from many women and she tolerates that.'

  'Why?'

  'Some customers get violent.' She made a chopping motion. 'The boys sort them out.'

  Fabiola made a mental note to make friends with Benignus and Vettius.

  Docilosa filled a plain black and red earthenware jug from a tank in the corner. Like Gemellus' house, the Lupanar had running water and sanitation.

  'You'll need this in your room.' She handed over a beaker as well, studying Fabiola closely. 'You remind me of my own daughter.' There was a brief smile before Docilosa gestured towards the door, all business again. 'I'll show you where the clothes are kept.'

  Fabiola followed her guide out of the stone-flagged kitchen, down a corridor filled with the smell of burning incense. Alcoves along its length displayed Greek statues.

  The room exceeded all Fabiola's expectations. Dozens of richly adorned costumes hung from iron hooks on its painted walls. Large bronze plates on stands acted as mirrors. Tables were covered in dozens of glass bowls, bottles and silver hand mirrors. Oblivious to the new arrivals, two women were trying on dresses at the far end.

  Docilosa gazed at the display and sighed. 'I'll leave you to it. Get to know some of the others.'

  Fabiola could see that both were years older than her. It was intimidating. Trying to remain calm, she walked further into the dressing room.

  A buxom Germanic-looking prostitute had already half turned in her direction. She was holding up a mane of long blonde hair, admiring her reflection in the mirror. Fabiola stared, intrigued. The only person she had regularly seen naked was her mother. A scanty red robe barely covered this woman's generous breasts and a flat waist. At the top of creamy white thighs sat a small puff of hair. She was very beautiful.

  'Who are you?'

  'Fabiola.' She paused, then added unnecessarily, 'I'm new.'

  The blonde was displeased. 'How many young ones is Jovina trying to pack in?'

  'Ignore her.' The second woman's face was more friendly. 'She 's having a bad day. I'm Pompeia and that's Claudia.'

  'I've never seen so many types of clothes.' Fabiola's mouth opened as she surveyed the selection.

  'Wonderful, isn't it?' Pompeia giggled and Fabiola took an immediate liking to the tall redhead. With green eyes and an alabaster complexion, she was extremely striking. A tight stola, slit at the sides to the waist, and then above the belt to the shoulder, revealed tempting expanses of flesh.

  'Wear whatever we like, too.'

  'Jovina said I must dress seductively.'

  'She would,' cackled Claudia.

  Pompeia threw her a frown and cocked her head at Fabiola. 'How old are you?'

  'Thirteen. Nearly fourteen.'

  'Gods above. Still a virgin?'

  Fabiola looked at the marble floor.

  'Never mind, you're here now.' Pompeia strolled along the wall, trailing her fingers through the garments. 'Come with me.'

  Fabiola followed slowly, touching the items with disbelief.

  'Mustn't overdo it. The most important thing is that you're a virgin.' She produced a white robe of fine linen with a purple hem. 'Try this.'

  Fabiola reached out eagerly. 'It's beautiful.'

  'Only the best for Lupanar girls. Put it on.'

  Fabiola lifted off her ragged smock and pulled on the crisp fabric. It felt luxurious against her skin, far better than anything she 'd ever worn. Fabiola smoothed the dress against her body. 'It's lovely,' she whispered.

  Claudia snorted dismissively.

  Fabiola found Pompeia appraising her keenly.

 
'Perfect. You look like a Vestal Virgin.'

  'But you can buy this bitch!' said Claudia.

  Pompeia spun round. 'It's sad that fool Metellus Celer has just died, but you'll soon find another rich client. Stop taking it out on her.'

  'The master used to lie with my mother most nights.' Fabiola's voice was steady. 'I know what to expect.'

  'He no longer owns you,' Claudia said unexpectedly. 'Forget him.'

  Fabiola smiled at that thought.

  'I saw the fat pig through the peephole.' Pompeia screwed up her face. 'Many customers here are far better looking. Play it smart and they'll become regulars.' She turned to Claudia for confirmation. 'Men love giving presents. Taking you out.'

  'All you have to do is satisfy their every desire,' said the blonde.

  A twitch of apprehension crossed Fabiola's features. Her only knowledge of sex had come from watching her mother, who had loathed Gemellus' visits.

  Noticing, Pompeia took her hand. 'We will teach you lots of ways to do that, my girl. Come over here. Take a look in the mirror.'

  Fabiola stared at the beaten bronze. Light shimmered from the tiny curves and dents across its surface. With a shock, she saw that the reflection was indeed pretty. Her confidence lifted slightly.

  'How many . . . prostitutes work here?' The word still felt disgusting. But that is what she was now.

  'Including us? About thirty. Varies a bit.' Pompeia dipped a brush into a bowl of ochre and applied a little to her cheeks. 'According to how many get sold or gain manumission.'

  Fabiola's ears pricked up. 'Sold?'

  'Sometimes a customer likes a girl so much that he buys her. Mostly they go off to a life of luxury. Villa in Pompeii or the like.' Pompeia looked wistful. 'Unlucky ones are got rid of when they are sick. Or too old.'

  'So are those who disobey Jovina,' said the blonde ominously.

  'Where to?'

  'One of the cheaper brothels. To someone needing cheap labour.'

  'Salt mines, latifundia, you know.' Claudia scowled. 'Got to remain popular and stay beautiful.'

  Fabiola thought of her mother and shuddered.

  Mistaking the reaction for one of fear, Pompeia patted her arm. 'Don't worry! Jovina won't be selling a prize catch like you.'

  'Do some girls gain their freedom?'

  Pompeia smiled. 'Jovina lets us keep a tiny amount of the fees for our services. Regular clients will give you some money too. Save every last sestertius. Isn't that right?'

  Claudia nodded vigorously, powdering her face with chalk and white lead.

  'A little more – that's not pale enough. Don't forget a bit of antimony on your eyebrows.' Pompeia turned back to Fabiola. 'Keep on Jovina's good side. In a few years she might let you buy out of here.'

  Claudia snorted. 'The old witch only says that to keep us happy. You know that. Can you name anyone who has bought their manumission since we arrived?'

  Pompeia's face dropped, and Fabiola's heart went out to her. Life in the Lupanar was obviously not secure. She would have to work hard to survive.

  The redhead saw her staring at the huge array of bottles and jars on the table. 'It's makeup. Lotions.'

  'Can I try some on?'

  'You're far too beautiful.'

  'But you're both using it.'

  Pompeia laughed. 'We 've been here for a long time! Have to keep looking good. You're as fresh as a flower.'

  'Not even some ochre?'

  'Perhaps a little. On your lips. Nothing else.'

  Unsure what men who visited the Lupanar would want, Fabiola gazed into the big mirror.

  'The clients will love you.' Pompeia gestured expansively as if talking to an audience. 'You might need some lead in a while, but for now you're the Vestal Virgin.'

  'Pompeia's right.' Claudia's tone was slightly more friendly. 'Understatement's better. For you.' She laughed, indicating her own generous curves.

  Fabiola smiled.

  'We're forgetting ourselves. Must be nearly sundown!' Suddenly Pompeia was all business. 'Have a good soak and an early night. It's time for us to work. Customers will start arriving soon.'

  Fabiola threw her new friend a grateful look. 'Thank you.'

  'I'll come and fetch you in the morning. We can chat about how to make men groan and beg for more!'

  'Or cry out!'

  Pompeia rolled her eyes. 'That's Claudia's speciality.'

  Fabiola left them to it and walked down the corridor, rubbing the linen fabric with secret pleasure. To her relief, she was the only person in the tiled bathing area apart from an old female slave, who silently provided olive oil and a strigil.

  The experience was far better than she had imagined. Gemellus had only allowed slaves to wash in the back courtyard with a bucket of cold water. Being able to lie back in a heated pool, admiring colourful paintings through the steam, seemed like total bliss. Fabiola fantasised about a time when talented craftsmen would paint the walls of her villa with similar depictions of Neptune and mythological marine creatures.

  Clean and relaxed, Fabiola retired to her room. She lay on the bedcovers, staring at flickering shadows cast by the torch. The grief at being parted from her family had abated a little with the discovery of a new friend and the Lupanar's soothing luxury. Pompeia would be a good ally, someone she might be able to trust. And she had something to aim for: to become the best prostitute in the brothel. With influential politicians and nobles as customers here, there was real power to be had by being good at her new profession. It gave her strength to know that rich men paying for sex might prove to be at her mercy.

  Fabiola stayed awake for some time, trying to imagine what intercourse would be like, but she couldn't. Rest would be better than worrying over something beyond her control. She closed her eyes and fell asleep. There were no nightmares.

  Pompeia arrived as promised early the next morning. Hearing the gentle knock, Fabiola threw back the covers and padded to the door, running a hand through her hair.

  'Still sleeping? You weren't working half the night!' There were dark rings under Pompeia's eyes, but the vivacious redhead was full of energy. 'Let's go and wash. There's a lot you need to learn.'

  Fabiola flushed with embarrassment at that prospect, but picked up a drying sheet and followed Pompeia down the corridor. A waft of warm, moist air accompanied by the noise of talking women met them at the door.

  It felt decadent.

  Suddenly an image of Romulus came to mind. The thought hit hard.

  Seeing her brother being dragged away was something Fabiola doubted she could ever forget. All I have to do today is sit in a heated bath and learn how to pleasure a man, while Romulus learns to fight for his life. Guilt swept over her.