Topic: A Reluctant Bride

Luciana

Date: 2009-08-18 08:49 EST
Across RhyDin, slaves of the house of Paulinus Lucius Scapula were reading out a proclamation penned by himself in every public place, before pinning it to the notice board, wall or door in front of which they stood, for anyone to peruse at their leisure. And they did, coming close to first hear, and then read for themselves the offer made by the great general of Rome.

http://i782.photobucket.com/albums/yy107/ShannaraRhyDin/Proclamation.jpg

It really was impossible to see how this day could get any more humiliating, Luciana thought to herself as she stood in the marketplace during one of these readings, enduring the curious and appraising looks sent her way as she was presented to those gathered there as the daughter of whom the proclamation spoke. Tall, svelte, flaxen haired and with pale blue eyes, she stared back at her admirers impassively, trying to ignore the stinging of the skin on her back.

Her father, the great Paulinus, had caught her sneaking back from her unescorted venture into the city the night before, and this public humiliation, this offering her to the highest bidder, was only part of her punishment. The other part was far more personal, and not for public eyes. She had been whipped with birch twigs across her naked back as the sun rose that morning; whipped until the skin was just about to break, and she was sobbing in pain and resentful remorse. Then salt had been rubbed across the abraided skin, and she had almost screamed at the sting of it. Though the pain was lessening now, each time the thick silk of her thigh-length stola brushed that abused skin she was forced to bite back a low moan of pain.

It was her own penance, not to show the pain. Her mother would have been proud of her. Gunnora, Paulinus' first wife and Luciana's mother, had been a Norse woman, the daughter of a chieftain, and as proud as her position demanded. She had never ceased to educate her daughter in the ways of her Norse people, despite the insistance of her husband that the girl be Romanised. So Luciana had grown up as an odd mix of the two; fiercely proud and independent, and yet capable of the mild mannered meekness of her paternal grandmother if she deemed it necessary. Unfortunately for her abused body, she very rarely deemed it so, and as such, after eight years of trying, since her first courses came at the tender age of twelve, Paulinus still had not managed to find a man who would marry her. 'Civilised' men did not want a barbarian wife, and there was never any question of marrying her back to her mother's people.

So here she was, put on display for the people of this new place of which she had never heard until her father had brought her here barely four days ago. And he had every intention of giving her up to some unknown man, together with her not inconsiderable dowry, and leaving her here, to get on or to rot. Whichever she did, it would be out of his hands.

Luciana scowled inwardly. She sincerely hoped no man who wished her was anything like that vile specimen of a man she had witnessed the evening before, with his smug charm and blatant flirtation. She was decided. She would die before ever allowing herself to be leashed to such a man as Cesare Romano.

Old Man Meko

Date: 2009-08-19 17:38 EST
pum-pum-click. pum-pum-click.

This was the sound of an old man, born aloft by a cane, walking down the lanes and passages of the Marketplace. He didn't know where he was going; he didn't know what he was looking for. All he knew was that it was a bright day in late summer, perfect for a stroll and maybe a chance to buy something eye-catching. He didn't need anything, of course, but there comes a time when any entertainment is welcome.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

It takes him a few times to read the sign and really understand what it means. He walks away, a few paces, but then he turns around, charged up with vigor and purpose, and jumps the queue to the factor in charge.

"I'll take her. How shall I prove that I am a man of means?"

Luciana

Date: 2009-08-19 20:55 EST
At first, Luciana was sure the old man must be jesting, coming forward before the day was even half-done and announcing his willingness to take her on. In front of her, no less! She stared at him in something approaching utter horror, wide pale blue eyes taking in every detail of his appearance and manner. Marry him' She would dance naked for the Emperor first!

Her father's factor, a man named Perspicus who had known her since she was a child, spared her only one glance with the look she knew as complete understanding of her position and cringing apprehension of her reaction. It wasn't as though her temper was unknown in the household she had grown up in.

The flaxen-haired daughter of Paulinus drew herself up to her full height, casting a look of withering scorn to the old man before her.

"I beg your pardon?" Her tone dripped haughty ice as she glowered at him. "You, marry me" Were I to consider such a thing even probable, I can assure you, sir, that you would not survive the wedding night. Look at you - how can a man such as yourself dare to aspire to be my husband?" She laughed harshly. "You would be in your grave before the feast had turned stale, and I with you according to tradition. My father may wish rid of me, but I highly doubt he wishes to send me so openly to my death. Go away, little man, and find some other, sweeter fool to warm your bed."

And that, right there, was the reason no man in the whole of the civilised Roman Empire would have Luciana Iona for a wife. Who would willingly marry that acerbic tongue" Oh, she looked pretty enough, and yes, she could be charming when she wished to be, but cross her, and that is what you got - a beautiful face with lips of absolute poison.

Perspicus winced at the way she spoke, and she could just imagine his stammering apologies to her importunate suitor as she whirled on her heel and strode away. She refused to remain here any longer. All the men Perspicus considered suitable candidates - if there were any after that little display, which she sincerely hoped - would have to ply to her father for any chance of even meeting with her, let alone marrying her. And Paulinus knew his daughter well enough not to push anyone towards her without first testing that man's strength of character.

Luciana stalked off through the city, fists clenched at her side. The audacity of the man! It was humiliating enough to be put up for sale, but to be propositioned in such a manner by one like him ....the insult was almost too much to bear. Better she should never marry, than marry only to die within weeks, days even. And she was sure that little incident would only be the tip of the iceburg. There would be others, ruder than he, she was sure. Well, they would get the same treatment, she determined. No man would have her without winning this battle of wits. No man.

Luciana

Date: 2009-08-20 10:04 EST
On this, the 20th day of the month of Augustus, by my reckoning ...

Will these humiliations never cease" Not a day goes by but that some new man comes to my father, seeking my hand in marriage, and all because of that stupid declaration. My punishment for being willful endures far beyond what it should for one act of independence.

It isn't that I don't want to marry. Of course I wish to, if only to be out from under my father's heel. But to be put up like cattle at market for the perusal and entertainment of whomever may pass by is almost more than my pride can bear!

My father may yet repent of his decision to offer me to all and sundry. Had I written his proclamation, I should have at least added some warning of my temper to it. My pride comes entirely from my parents; from the honour of being a general and governor's daughter, and from the high-born position of being my mother's child.

Perhaps I know too much of my mother's people. In Rome, had I been educated entirely as my father wished, I would have been married from the year my courses began, and glad of it. But the Norse peoples, they to whom I owe my appearance; they do not barter women in this fashion. A woman is free to choose her husband, within reason, and she may own property and fight if she so wishes. Perhaps I am a little too much like my mother for my father's happiness.

Five men have come to offer for my hand since that stupid day in the city, and each of them come and gone in foul spirits, which I own to be entirely my doing. I do not see why they should continue believing me to be mild-mannered and well-behaved when I am certainly not. The sharp side of my tongue has been my friend these last days, and I am sure will continue to be so.

Had any of them approached me in a more gentleman-like manner, I may have been disposed to be the warm, well-mannered woman my father tells them I am. But no, each in his own way has looked upon me as property, has expected me to fall at his feet in simpering gratitude for his kind condescension in considering me worthy to marry him.

I will not be what they expect. Nor will I allow any man to shackle himself to me without full knowledge of my temper, which is unpleasant in the very least way. It is unkind to ask any man to wed me who does not first understand what I am - fiercely independent and determined to remain so, if I possibly can. Is it so very cruel of me to display that temper which has made me unmarriageable in the civilised world" After all, I see the worst of them as they greet me, fully expecting my gratitude and whole-hearted willingness to be their bed-partner. Why shouldn't I return that compliment and display that which makes me so difficult to live with"

I know I must settle on someone soon, else my father may well send me to be a Vestal and keep my dower for himself and my brothers. And truly, I could not endure such a life; to be devoted to a goddess whom I cannot respect, to be kept chaste in order that others may feel better about their lack of chastity.

I am proud, certainly, but not so proud as to condemn myself to a life so devoid of battle and honour. Should some man come to ask me for my hand in marriage, without expectation of being accepted and simpered over, I may very well agree. But I will have the respect my mother had, or else shall make my chosen husband's life worse than he might ever expect.

But my writing must come to a close, I see a new supplicant come to the gates of the estate. And a fine gentleman he looks too; filled with his own self-importance and the finery of his clothing. I wonder how he will feel when I rub his face in the dirt he looks down on"

Luciana

Date: 2009-08-26 16:16 EST
"This must stop, Luciana!" General Paulinus Lucius Scapula paced across his disobedient daughter's bedroom in high dudgeon. "Every man who has come to our gates in the last week has been perfectly well able to support you and make an honest wife of you, and yet within minutes of meeting you, they leave in a temper and refuse all attempts to have them return! You are sabotaging yourself, just as you did back in Rome!"

Luci watched her father pace, her hands lowered meekly into her lap. "Forgive me, father, but you did raise me to expect certain standards from a husband," she said quietly. The hint of defiance in her tone did nothing to soothe him. "If by making an honest wife of me, you mean to tie me to a man who has no respect for me, or the family from which I come, I should rather not marry at all."

"You would willingly become a Vestal, then?" Her father laughed harshly, knowing it was the last thing his proud Norse daughter would ever do. And, indeed, that was the trouble with Luciana. There was far too much Norse and not enough Roman in her to make her a decent man's wife. "No, that would be too much to ask. Your mother should never have -"

"My mother would never have offered me to the highest bidder just to be rid of me!"

As soon as she spoke, Luci knew she had gone too far. Speaking the truth, however unpleasant it was, was not the path to a quiet life in the house of General Scapula, who was even now looking down at her with pinched white lips and the ruddy complexion of a man pushed beyond all endurance.

"Your mother was proud, too," he hissed furiously, advancing on Luci in angry upset. "Too proud, too willful, by far. And I see she has passed it on to you. You are not Roman, you are a barbarian, and fit to be no good Roman's wife. Or daughter."

Luci stiffened, but before she could retort, Paulinus was speaking again, his hands clenched at his sides.

"I will tame you, Luciana, I will have the obedient daughter I was promised," he snarled down at her. "If I must beat you every day of your life, and hand the switch to your husband when you marry, I will have you broken to heel. You are no barbarian princess, as your mother was - I have nothing to prevent me from drawing your blood until you break. Aye, and it shall begin tonight."

He nodded to Marcela, Luci's personal slave and his own mistress, and the pair of them left the room. Luci could hear Marcela pleading with Paulinus as they walked away from the close door.

So he meant to break her now, did he" She rose from her seat, taking up her own pacing of the floor, deep in thought. Well, if she was to be broken, she may as well earn that punishment. She looked out of the window at the darkening sky. Perhaps a trip to the city was in order. Alone and unescorted, as she had only once ventured forth in her life. Aye, that should do the trick.

Luci smiled to herself as she laced her sandals. Yes, her father would be well justified in punishing her for this. After all, what good was a punishment if it had not already been earned in some manner?