The Forgotten Legion - Kane Ben - Страница 31

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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.

Inside, half a dozen prostitutes were washing and talking animatedly with each other. Conversation stopped when they saw the newcomers.

'This is Fabiola,' Pompeia announced. 'Girl I was telling you about.'

The majority nodded in a friendly enough manner and resumed chatting, glancing over occasionally. Pompeia stripped naked, indicating that Fabiola do the same. The redhead was full-bodied and curvaceous, her breasts larger than any the girl had seen before. Fabiola stared with fascination at Pompeia's bush of auburn pubic hair. Her milk-white skin contrasted sharply with the tall Nubian in the circular bath, who moved over so the two friends could enter and sit down.

Fabiola sat bolt upright in the warm water, smiling nervously.

Pompeia saw how ill at ease she was. 'Relax! We 're all family here and we all look out for each other. The only rule is that you never try and steal another woman's regular.'

For a good hour, Fabiola concentrated hard as Pompeia lectured her on the subjects of personal hygiene, the herbs to drink that prevented pregnancy, and how to make interesting conversation with a man. Every so often one of the others would chip in. Pompeia talked completely without embarrassment, and eventually Fabiola began to feel more at ease.

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