Constantinople had fallen. The Ottoman horde had come from the east and the west. Both overland and by sea. The once great Roman city had capitulated. Many were killed, the lucky ones had fled. The unlucky ones had been taken as slaves. I was one of the unlucky ones.

Softly I padded into the kitchen, not so very long ago it would have been unheard of for me to lower myself to fetching my own bathwater. But times had changed. I was a slave now, no longer the pampered daughter of a senator. Humming softly I stoked up the fire and poured a pitcher of water into a pot and thrust it into the flames. I added a few drops of precious cedar oil and vanilla as the water began to boil. The fragrance was enticing. I closed my eyes as the familiar scent brought back memories of a happier time. Many of the other girls had let their appearances go, preferring to be filthy and wallowing in self pity. I was made of sterner stuff. I would not shame myself in front of these Ottoman monsters. I untied the sash and shivered as my silk dress puddled at my feet. I washed my long blonde hair first then my body. Rinsing the smell of him from my skin. The water had grown cold by the time I had finished bathing. I sighed as I watched the sun peek from the kitchen window. He would be expecting me back in his bed.

When the great ships had blockaded the harbor and the city had fallen, not only had men and horses emerged upon our docks, but black rats had also scurried to shore. Each time I glimpsed one of the nasty creatures I had to swallow back bile. I passed two of the beasts on the way back to what used to be my parents bedchamber.

The bastard who had taken our mansion had laid his claim to all that I held dear. Slaughtering those who refused to bend to his will. I had fallen so low, from senators daughter to a heathen's whore. My life was worth no more than the rats that lurked in the dark corners. I shivered as I entered the darkened room.

He lay there huddled under the luxurious blankets. His dark heavily lidded eyes boaring into mine as I guiltily closed the door behind me. I shook with fear, dreading another beating, but he just watched me as I returned to his side. He grabbed me, his huge hands wrapping around my wrist. His skin was on fire. I noticed his brow was covered in a fine sheen as well. Gutterally he choked out a command.
I nodded, and sagging with relief turned to fetch a basin of cool water.

All through the night I nursed him, and each time I went to the well for more water I had to resist the temptation to skip. The evil man was dying. Of that I was sure, surely no man could vomit and defecate so much and live. As the night wore on I noticed swelling upon his neck and under his muscular arms. They grew in size and by nightfall they were black and oozing. The smell was awful, I kept applying cedar oil to my neck and hands to mask the smell of decay and sickness. At midnight he took his last ragged breaths. I fled into the hall to spread the happy news, only to trip over another slave. He looked the same as the heathen. Black welts oozing a foul smelling pus covered his neck and arms. His body lay haphazardly in the hall, his eyes open and unseeing.

I began to panic. Each corridor I took seemed to be overflowing with soldiers. Normally I feared their vile attentions but now I recoiled from the smell. Vomit and filth littered the hall and men lay dead and dying upon every surface. The golden collar about my neck grew tight as terror gripped me. I fled, my slippered feet whispering against the marble tiles as I raced to the great gates. No man raised a hand to stop me, no man could raise a hand at all. The barbarians had been felled by a great pestilence. A sickness surely brought down upon them by the gods as punishment for the evils they had committed against the people of Constantinople.

But as I fled the once great city I saw that the gods had not discriminated. Everywhere I looked slaves and the Ottomans alike had been stricken. The smell of rotting flesh pervaded the once pristine streets. Bodies were stacked like firewood at each corner. One woman sat at her doorway wailing, her breasts exposed and covered in black sores as a crying infant wailed in her arms. My vision blurred with tears as I saw his little arms covered in pus. I ran faster and faster, my lungs feeling as if they would burst.

In my blind terror I crashed into a brazier spilling the hot coals and flames  into the pile of coal left at the ready. In a flash the fuel ignited. The heat stinging my face as the flames grew. Hungrily they spread up the wooden storefront. I watched transfixed as the red and orange tendrils spread. A weak scream of alarm roused me from my stupor and I began to run again. Fear spurring me faster still. As I reached the scattered stones that once stood guard over the city. I paused and glanced back at my home. The flames had spread quickly, most of the merchant district was ablaze. I could see a few people yet strong enough trying to flee the smoke and the flames. Their bodies weakly falling to the street as the smoke consumed them. I saw a group of sick soldiers staggering towards me, their faces and necks covered in black oozing sores.

I smiled as the flames consumed them.

Let them burn.