She blushed and ducked her head. Every time he spoke he unnerved her. Of course, the sight of him was unnerving, too. There was no way she was going to win with this man…
"Yes, I would like something to eat," she said, trying to sound calm. He gestured toward the archway gallantly, waving her to walk ahead of him. She did so, and her breath caught.
Before her was a large table, spread with every kind of food she could imagine, and quite a few she had never seen or heard of before. There were fruits, pastries, delicately sliced meats…More than enough to feed the entire village, she realized, marveling.
"Where did all this come from?" she asked in a whisper. Sabiniano laughed.
"I have a pouch that produces it," he said, smiling. "I won it several hundred years ago in a dice game with Hermes. He still hasn't forgiven me."
"But there's so much!" she said. "Who will eat all of this?"
"I have no idea," Sabiniano said, shrugging lightly. "It simply appears when the bag is opened and disappears when it closes."
Kalliara thought of all the times during her life that she and her fellow villagers had shivered with the cold while their empty bellies rumbled. Last year, three of the youngest children in the village had died of hunger…Unable to control her disgust, she burst out.
"What the hell is wrong with you? You're a terrible ruler, to have food like this and not share it with your people!"
His face darkened, and she raised her had to her mouth in horror. How had she dared say such a thing to him? What would he do to her? Would he kill? With dark humor, she realized that if she spurred him into killing her now, it would save her a much slower death later. But instead of striking her down, he turned and strode back toward the balcony.
"Eat your fill," he said curtly before disappearing behind the curtains. She nodded and turned to the table. No matter what else happened, she would need her strength. She had to learn to keep her mouth shut. Her father had always said she talked too much for a woman, that her sharp tongue would get her in trouble.
He had been a wise man, she thought wryly. And accurate.
Sabiniano paced the balcony, then turned abruptly to look out over his lands.
In the distance he could see smoke from the cooking fires in the village. She was right. He could have easily fed these people, yet it had never occurred to him. He hadn't worried about their lives any more than he worried about the lives of the birds and squirrels in the forest. The strong would live; it was nature's way.
But the look on her face when she saw all the food told a different story. He was cold and uncaring; his people could suffer and not only did he not care—he didn't even notice. How had be become so cold and empty?
He thought back over the course of his long life, wondering when the change had occurred. He hadn't been born uncaring. His mother, a nymph, had been kind and beautiful. He had never spent much time near human children, but she had taught him to be careful of them. She had reminded him constantly that their lives and bodies were fragile; they should no more be crushed without reason than the flowers of the field…
But that had been a long time ago. And he hadn't paid any attention to flowers recently, either, he thought wryly. His studies still brought him pleasure, but little else touched him. Even sex, drinking, the violence that was his heritage were little more than rituals to be performed this past century.
He picked up a small pebble lying on the balcony's stone railing. Without thinking, he tossed it into the distance. It flew with great force, and then he heard a screeching noise. He'd hit a bird, and now it was falling from the sky. He closed his eyes in disgust. No matter his intentions, destruction and death followed him.
Kalliara was making him think far too much, and he didn't like it. Not one little bit.
She had never tasted anything as good as the food on Sabiniano's table. Each grape burst in her mouth, filled with sweetness and juice. The bread was light and crispy, the cheeses rich with flavor. There were several goblets on the table; each filled with a different kind of wine. Of course she had drunk wine before, but it was usually mixed with water. This was strong, heady stuff and she questioned the wisdom of drinking even a little bit. But the first sip was so good, and then she was filled with a thirst that was impossible to ignore.
She tipped the goblet, drinking deeply, and the wine sang into her veins like a drug.
She grew light-headed, and before she even realized what she was doing, she danced around the room. Jumping up on the bed, she laughed out loud. Being alive was wonderful! How little she had appreciated it before. The underworld had been safe, pleasant even. But this room was filled with bright colors and fresh air. The food was wonderful, and she felt as is she could fly.
But before she flew, she wanted another drink.
By the time Sabiniano came back, she was giggling to herself, clutching the goblet and staring at him with wide eyes. He stopped in his tracks.
"This is really good stuff," Kalliara told him gravely, trying not to wobble.
Why had she been so afraid of him before? He seemed perfectly fine now. Except he didn't have any wine…a wave of compassion washed over her.Everyone should have wine, she thought. She would share hers!
"You havegot to try this," she said, standing shakily and offering him her cup. He reached out, catching her before she could fall down. She laughed, and collapsed into his arms. He lifted the cup and sniffed curiously.
"Why you doing that?" she asked, confused. Her word sounded strange, garbled.
It was hard to talk. "You're supposed to drink it, not sniff it."
"I can't believe you drank this," he said, his voice tight. What was wrong with him? It was good stuff, and he should be drinking it. She reached up and tipped the goblet toward his face. It over-balanced, running down the front of his tunic and she cried out in horror.
"You shouldn't pour wine over fabric like that," she said in disgust. She looked up into his face, trying to convince him of the importance of what she was saying. If she was going to get that stain out before it set, she would have to get tunic off him and in some water right away, she thought. She pushed away from him struggling to say upright, and reached toward the edge of his tunic. Grasping the hem, she pulled the fabric up. He gave a startled gasp and tried to grasp her hands. She lost her balance; then she was on her knees before him. It was a most interesting position…
He had a big cock. Right in front of her face. It was swelling up, and she cocked her head, fascinated by it.
"You were going to stick that in me?" she asked, laughing out loud. "There's no way it would fit in me. I think you must have made a mistake."
Then her view was cut off as he pushed his tunic back down. His hands were grasping her upper arms, and he was flinging her over his shoulder. She squawked in protest, wiggling against him to get away, but he ignored her.
He walked across the room, pushing open the massive doors as if they weren't even there, and started through the temple. She braced her head up against his back with her elbows, and watched in interest as they moved along. Nymphs watched them from corners, giggling and gossiping with each other. She saw groups of satyrs as well, some of them looking worse for the wear. They must have been drinking and carousing last night, she thought sagely. Too bad they didn't have some of her wine. They wouldn't look so unhappy if they had the good stuff, she thought in smug satisfaction. Their sickly expressions made her giggle, and she twisted, wanting to share the joke with Sabiniano, but he simply ignored her.
They walked out the front of the temple, and he headed down the broad steps.