As Manius mounted Abaster, his horse, he wondered how it was that Sergia knew about the dagger he laced with the enchanted dragon's blood. He certainly didn't tell her about it. She never touched a rune while he was there. "Hmmm …" he murmured as he analyzed the situation. Abastor stepped nervously, waiting for instruction from his rider.
He turned his thoughts to the scene at the villa. He decided he couldn't ponder the strange encounter with Sergia, not now anyway. "Later," he thought to himself. He felt nervous that he was not able to discover his own fate because he never got to the point of Sergia reading his future before the hag verbally attacked him. Manius turned the horse north and started to ride, as fast as he could. He knew he had to return to the villa before the blood bath was discovered. All the way back to the villa, he never suspected he was being followed.
Sergia cast a spell on Manius, to keep him from seeing her and her horse. Luckily, the spell didn't require ingredients and didn't take as much energy as casting a spell where she was invisible to everyone. As long as she was still connected to his mind, the spell would last. She could have ridden right by his side without him seeing her if she could have kept up with his horse, Abastor. She didn't enchant her own horse, nor could she without having certain ingredients on hand but, as long as she could stay close enough to be connected to his mind, it was good enough.
Manius arrived at the villa stable unnoticed, Sergia was still in tow.
He unmounted Abastor, and put him in the stable with fresh water and grains. He briefly stroked his back and said "Good boy." He had affection for the horse. There were few living creatures he cared for, but Abastor was definitely one of them. Once Abastor was settled in he left the stable.
As he walked, he kept to the rear of the building to stay hidden. He saw a peacock with its emerald green tail on full display. It was vibrating its tail in a display of courtship towards a few peahens nearby. As he walked past, the peacock turned and took a defensive lunge at him, and dug its spur into one of his legs. Blood gushed as Manius silently winced in pain while simultaneously grabbing the bird by the neck and throwing it against the villa's private garden wall.
He entered the lush garden, full of green shrubbery, fig, olive, and lemon trees, grapevines, ivy-barnacled statues, and roman style garden columns and then followed a cobble-stoned path that led to the rear of the villa and disappeared inside the rear entrance.
Once inside, he decided to become part of the bloody theater before him and waited for discovery. He was worried that perhaps someone already happened upon the grisly, blood-imbrued spectacle and decided to place himself under a piece of furniture so he could pretend he was there all along, just unnoticed. He gawked in gruesome fascination as he stepped over the contorted lump of what used to be his wife and found an overturned sofa to crawl under. He decided the wound from the peacock would look good, as if he were trying to defend his wife and guests, and decided to cut himself with a few more cosmetic fleshy wounds.
Soon enough, a traveling merchant stopped at the villa to sell some wine and dried meat. When he saw that everyone inside had been callously slaughtered, he gasped and he went running for the street guards. It seemed like an eternity before the merchant returned with the guards. The sofa was becoming heavy and he wished the twit would hurry.
When the guards arrived and entered, they stood aghast at the butchery that presented itself. They heard the cacophonous sound of flies buzzing around, turning death into a delicacy. The smell surpassed description, not only the smell of death and blood but also urine and bowels that opened up at the time of death. Spit and mucus oozed from open mouths and noses, running down stiff faces with open eyes that froze their final expression of fear at the moment of death. Rigor mortis set in, and gravity pooled the blood to the parts of the bodies closest to the floor turning them black. Most of the bodies were beginning to bloat, gases building up inside. It was truly an orgy of death.
Manius fabricated a moan as if waking in pain from a state of unconsciousness. He said in a low, pained, raspy voice "Help!"
The guards lifted the sofa and helped Manius to his feet. The floor was sticky with blood and made a ripping noise every time any of them took a step.
One of the guards asked Manius, "What in the name of the Gods happened?" "Do you remember anything?"
Manius began to manufacture tears, "My wife, my guests" as he covered his hands over his nose and mouth "It was a slave revolt."
"I couldn't protect them. I tried, but I failed."
He fell on his knees next to the body of his departed wife "They've killed everyone, my wife, my guests."
The guard rhetorically whispered to himself "To what end?"
One of the guards in the villa spoke up, "I��m going to alert the other guards and we will begin looking for the escaped slaves immediately." he then made his exit.
Sergia was riding her horse up the stone-paved street, which was now full of people. Word spread quickly and people were crowding in front of the villa waiting to hear any news. Most were just morbidly curious and wanted to take a peek at the onslaught for themselves. Others were waiting to hear the identities of the victims. Guards were at all entrances to the villa and stopped the crowd from getting too close. Sergia was happy for the crowd. It gave her an excuse to be near the villa, unquestioned. She hopped off her horse and stood near the rear of the crowd.
To save energy, she dropped both her disguise as an old hag and invisibility. Manius would not recognize her even if he saw her anyways.
Sergia searched for Rhesus in the villa with her mind but he was absent. She was beyond anxious to find him. She wondered what direction he went.