This story contains scenes of abuse and cruelty involving young boys although milder I think than in earlier episodes. If you do not enjoy such stories then do not read it. Some people also get killed. These deaths are incidental to the story and are not intended to have a _s_e_x_ually content. To understand this instalment fully you need to have read the earlier parts of this story which are in :MMSA Stories archive under the author's name.
The four boys trotted briskly along the dirt track their ponies hooves raising a small cloud of dust behind them. Three of the boys were chattering together happily. The fourth although clearly part of the group was largely silent. Occasionally one of the other boys would shout a question at him and then he would reply readily enough.
At first when Gaius had arrived among them together with his uncle and adopted father Longinus Cornelius, the lads, all sons of local landowners or high officials, had thought because of his withdrawn manner that he was soft. They had revised this opinion when he had fought the largest of them, a youth a year and a half older than himself to a bloody standstill, in defence of a kitten that the older boy was intending to throw to the farm dogs. They might not understand how anybody could be so upset by a little harmless sport but they recognised, that although Gaius might be odd, he was also determined and tough. As the youngest and the newest arrival in the area he was not automatically part of the group. This was all the more so as horsemanship ranked high among the skills valued by them and Gaius when he first arrived was no horseman. His first few tumbles had caused great amusement but when instead of limping home in tears he got up and tried again and again and again, rather as he had refused to stay down in the fight over the kitten, the amusement became tinged with respect. Now while he did not join in the chatter and noisy horseplay he was fully accepted by them.
The track swung round the side of the farm buildings at the back of Gaius's uncle's villa. From the yard came the sound of the thud of leather on bare flesh interspersed with screams of pain. The unmistakable noise of a slave being whipped. Gaius's face paled and he rode on gripping his reigns tightly. The other three however turned their horses into the yard, whooping excitedly, to see the fun. It was another oddity of their friend's that they accepted, now without comment that he did not seem to get any enjoyment out of watching a flogging.
All too soon, at least from the boys' point of view the entertainment was over and they came trotting up behind Gaius cheerfully discussing the spectacle they had just witnessed.
"A pity that overseer stopped so soon."
"Well his shoulders were well bloodied. He must have had a few strokes before we arrived."
"Some beggar the overseer said. Probably a runaway slave."
"My Father says we have to keep them down or they'll try to take over from us."
"Do you know Gaius the brute was caught asking for you. He said he had a message for you but when he was asked to describe you he couldn't. He was just making it up. He's just a thieve and a liar like all slaves."
"I tell you what must have hurt even more than the whipping. That thing the overseer showed us when they cut him down. Fancy having that done to your _c_o_c_k_."
"And right between his legs and out the top of his bum a rose.... Gaius... Where are you going?"
Gaius spun his pony round and clapping his heels to it's flanks cantered it, regardless of the well being of it's legs, back towards the yard. He swung in through the gate in a cloud of dust nearly knocking the overseer to the ground.
"You've just flogged a boy?" Gaius asked leaping from the saddle.
"Yes young Sir. But it's over now. No matter though I'll have him strung up for you again if you want Sir.. He could easily take another half dozen strokes." The man sounded surprised for Gaius had up to then had a reputation as a kind hearted youth among the slaves and freemen on the estate.
"No . No I must see him. Where is he?"
"I just had him put in the shed over there Sir. He won't be going anywhere for a bit. Not after the whipping I gave him and the master can make up his mind what to do with him tomorrow. I reckon he's a runaway so if I had my way it would be off to the Governor's. Gallows meat is what he is." (the Romans often used 'gallows' as a synonym for crucifixion.)
Gaius thrust the reigns of his pony into the overseers hands and ran over to the shed. He pushed the door open. There in the gloom lying face down on a bed of dirty straw was a youth with shoulders ripped and bloodied from the lash. Gaius could see the tip of the rose bud appearing at the top of the boy's bottom. To make absolutely certain he dropped to his knees in the straw and pulled the lad gently round. He found himself looking down into Bestia pain glazed eyes.
"Is he going to live." He demanded anxiously of the overseer.
"It'll take more than a whipping to kill one of those Sir."
"I want him put on a hurdle, taken gently to my room and then I want the maid Chrysis to clean his back and tend to him."
"You can't do that Sir. He's a slave and he's dirty and bleeding. What will the Master say."
"I don't know what my Uncle will say. I am going to find out now because I'm going to see him and tell him what I have done." Gaius paused and then continued earnestly. "He is a slave but I owe him a great deal. Please have him looked after."
"Well... Well young Sir," the overseer looked down into the boy's earnest young face and then began to shout orders. Two grooms appeared, a hurdle was found and Bestia lifted gently on to it. Gaius jumped back on his pony and rode slowly up to the house trying to work out in his mind what exactly to say to his uncle.
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Longinus Cornelius sat at his desk looking up at his nephew and adopted son with a puzzled expression. The boy was obviously disturbed, he was pale and he seemed to have difficulty in speaking and indeed in controlling the trembling in his hands and knees. Bursting into his room like this and in so nervous condition and demanding an interview was unlike Gaius.
If anything he had been worried the boy was too quiet. It had been a relief to him that the other lads in the area had accepted him into their company although he noticed the boy held himself aloof from many of their wilder escapades. Then too there had not been the confidence between himself and the lad that he had hoped for. The boy was very reserved and hated being touched. Not that he wanted to fondle the child. He was not that sort. The reason he had no children had nothing to do with his _s_e_x_ual tastes although being partial to boys had not prevented many of his contemporaries also fathering large families. Still there were times when it was natural to want to put your arm round a boy's shoulders and hug him to encourage or console. But any move on his part and the boy shied away like a young unbroken colt. Why even after that epic and faintly ridiculous fight with young Cerialis, over the kitten, when Gaius had returned to the villa with his face bloodied and hardly able to walk, he had crawled off to his room by himself and refused all offers of help.
"Well Gaius if you have something to say perhaps it would be easier if you sat down." Longinus said trying to put the boy at ease.
Gaius took no notice of that invitation. Looking straight ahead speaking sometimes haltingly and sometimes in sharp bursts he told his story. Longinus listened to the saga of abuse his face blank only interrupting occasionally when in his emotion Gaius lost the thread of his narrative and became confused. He heard the whole story. How Gaius had been taken from his father's villa by Corax disguised as a slave to escape the imperial agents, his beatings and abuse at the hands of Corax and Marcus, his branding, the killing of the groom and how from almost the very beginning Bestia had tied to protect and help him finally taking on his own shoulders the guilt for the grooms death that rightfully belonged to himself . There was only one fact that Gaius deliberately omitted. .
"I'm sorry Uncle," the boy said the story over, "I should have told you all this before now I know but I was ashamed and I thought you might be angry with me for letting them do these things to me." He began to cry. It was the first time Longinus had seen him in tears.
"I am not angry with you Gaius. I wish these things you have just told me about had not happened to you because they were not nice things to have to experience. There is no reason at all why you should be ashamed of yourself. You were put in a position where you had no choice. What counts is what you are now."
Longinus paused and then continued.
"But one thing puzzles me. Why have you told me now. Do you want me to buy that slave boy Bestia who was so good to you. No doubt I could and I could find him a nice quiet job on my estates somewhere if you wish. But we'll have to find him first."
"He's in my bed Uncle being washed by Chrysis," Gaius blurted out. "He came herewith a message for me, I don't know what it was, and the man assumed he was a runaway looking for something to thieve so they flogged him and I only found out on the way back from riding this morning."
Longinus sat staring at Gaius with his mouth open and then lent back in his chair and laughed.
"You had better go to your room now," he said through his laughter, "and reassure that young friend of yours. Once he's recovered enough to take notice of what's going on around him he's going to be very confused finding himself in a proper bed with a pretty blonde girl tending to him unless there's someone there to explain how it's all happened."
Gaius could still hear his uncle laughing when he closed the study door behind him. He couldn't quite see what the joke was but he was glad his Uncle was not angry with him or Bestia.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The winter sun shone though the windows of Gaius's bedroom and gleamed on the long fair hair of the slave girl as she bent over the couch swabbing gently at Bestia's torn shoulders. She glanced up as Gaius entered the room and smiled. The boy was a favourite of hers ever since he had come across her crouching in a corner of the dairy weeping. He had taken the trouble to sit beside her and to find out what was troubling her. He had then interceded so effectively with his uncle that her lover who had been due to be flogged and then set to work in a chain gang in the fields was allowed to keep his jib as a groom. He did not escape the whipping but then he thoroughly deserved it. The carriage horse that had been injured due to his carelessness was worth a great deal more money than he was. Longinus Cornelius had even spoken of permitting a servile marriage. This was not wholly altruistic on his part for as a prudent slave owner he was unlikely to pass by the chance of breeding fresh stock from so pretty a girl. However it would give Chrysis the unusual privilege of choosing her mate and for this she was deeply and rightly grateful.
Betsia turned his head to look at the new arrival.
"Pisclus," he said weakly, "I didn't know I would see you. You must have been bought by Gaius Cornelius. I have a message for your master."
"He thinks your a slave like him Sir," Chrysis said giggling. "They do go a bit funny after they've been flogged. My Cario thought I was his mother when I was cleaning his back up."
Pisclus knelt beside the bed.
"I am both Pisclus and Gaius Cornelius," he said.
Painfully Bestia reached out and touched the other boy's neck.
"The collar is gone," he said wonderingly and then, "I have a message for you from Marcus." The boys continued to talk together long after Chrysis had sponged clean Bestia's bloodied back. Gaius sat on the floor his head lent back against the couch Bestia's hand resting on his chest. At that moment there was no difference between the two boys although one was the adopted son of a Roman Senator the other a slave. Then Gaius felt Bestia start. Looking up he saw that his uncle had entered the room. He scrambled hastily to his feet.
"I came to see how your guest was doing Gaius and to thank him for the help he has given you in the past," the man said quietly.
Gaius looked at his friend and saw he would have to speak for him. Bestia who had bravely suffered so much to protect him was terrified by this man who spoke gently but wore a toga bearing the broad purple stripe that marked him as one of the rulers of the Roman world under the Emperor himself.
"Bestia came here with a message from Marcus Uncle," Gaius said. "He has been sent as a slave to my brother who will kill him and he begs for my help."
"I can see no reason why you should grant him that help," Longinus remarked coldly. "You it seems to me owe him and his father nothing. They both maltreated you and abused you. A taste, even if it is lethal, of his own medicine is what that young man deserves."
"Yes Uncle, but while that is true Marcus acted to save Bestia from being sent to his death as a field slave in Sicily and I owe Bestia a great deal."
"Your debt to Bestia I acknowledge and will honour. I do not see however that it puts you under an obligation to Marcus." Longinus spoke firmly obviously wanting to close the discussion.
"I still want to help Marcus if I may," Gaius blurted out. He knew he was living dangerously for Longinus was his adopted father and in the Roman family the father's word was law.
"I cannot see why... Unless," Longinus paused looking closely at Gaius who shifted uneasily under his gaze, "you love the boy."
Gaius said nothing but flushed. This was the one thing he had not told his uncle. Indeed he deed not know if he loved Marcus. All he knew was that despite all the abuse and cruelty that the older boy had inflicted on him he missed him desperately and had done so from the moment he had driven him away. He wanted desperately to be with Marcus again, to be his boy, to taste his cum and to have his _c_o_c_k_ deep within him. Perhaps this time Marcus would be more gentle with him. He hoped so but whether he was or not he wanted to return to him.
Longinus read his nephew like a book. He did not approve but the he told himself boys went through phases and then there was the political aspect of the matter. Corax was, he understood from his informant in Rome, on his way back into imperial favour. The man was fabulously wealthy. Marcus would no doubt inherit that wealth. Admittedly he was merely the son of a freedman and socially very inferior to a scion the patrician Cornellii family. On the other hand freedmen's sons had risen to the highest honours of the state short only of the imperial crown itself. It would be useful to have the gratitude of Corax in the short term and a friendship between his nephew and Marcus might have a long term value for both boys.
"Very well," he said and Gaius who had been waiting for his decision visibly relaxed. "I will make arrangements for you to travel to Britain. You will leave in three days. There are a number of arrangements I will need to make."
"And Bestia won't be fit to travel before then Uncle either."
"You will be accompanied by your tutor," Longinus continued ignoring this interruption.
"By Plautus," said Gaius aghast.
"Yes. I cannot come with you because of business here but I am not going to have you undertaking a journey like that without a responsible adult to keep an eye on you. He will be acting on my authority and will exercise that authority over you."
Longinus turned and left the room.
Two days later the two boys were sitting in Marcus's bedroom waiting for Chrysis to bring them their suppers. Normally Marcus ate with his uncle but he had since Bestia's arrival been eating in his room. At first to keep the other boy company while he recovered from his beating. Later because Bestia was so fearful of his uncle that it would have been an unkindness to him to suggest they ate with him and also because he knew his uncle would find it difficult to accept a slave eating at his table. Longinus walked into the room and the two boys scrambled to their feet to greet him.
"I have just returned from a meeting with the Governor," he said addressing Gaius. "I have obtained authority for you to use the Imperial Posts on your journey. I have also obtained letters of introduction for various officials in Britain that will I hope prove useful. I am entrusting these to Plautus to take care of."
"Thank you Uncle."
"My task in obtaining these was made the easier in that it is clear that Corax will be restored to Imperial favour. It is sad how men are always eager to assist the rising sun." Longinus added portentously quite over looking his own calculations of material advantage when he agreed to his nephews journey to help Marcus.
"There is one thing though that I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about," he continued. "It is Gaius your friendship with Bestia. I am afraid I have to say that I have come to the conclusion that it is quite unsuitable. It cannot be right for a nephew of mine to be on terms of friendship with a mere slave boy."
He saw Gaius had reached out and taken hold of Bestia's hand. Bestia himself looked as though he had been struck in the face.
"I have decided that the situation cannot be allowed to continue," he paused and smiled. "I have therefore also obtained from the Governor ordering that Bestia should be granted his freedom and I the matter of the manumission tax I have taken care of myself."
He was almost knocked to the ground by Gaius who hurled himself at him and clasped his arms about his waste hugging him tightly. It seemed he thought that he had at last found a way of breaking through the boy's reserve.
"I hope," he said patting the dark head that was pressed against his chest, "that you will both have supper with me. It will be the last one before you both set out on your journey to Britain."
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Titus Cornelius took a deep gulp of wine from his goblet and looked across at his guest.
"It is pleasant," he said speaking with the exaggerated care of a man who had taken rather too much to drink, "to have an opportunity to meet some one other than the provincial bores I have to suffer round here. You must stay for the games they are only a week away now."
"I would enjoy that but I must return to London to pass your receipt for Corax's whelp here," Cassius slipped his hand under the gold tassels that Marcus still wore around his waist and pinched the boy's balls between his finger and thumbs, Marcus whimpered but dared not move, "to my Father's agent in London."
"A week will not make any difference to that and your Father will never know. Come on stay here. You will enjoy both the stay and the games. I've been picking up boy's cheap from all over Britain for the show and you can have the pick of them to entertain you while your here."
"A weeks not long to train them as gladiators," Cassius remarked.
"I'm not wasting money on training them. Have you any idea what a real gladiator costs? No the Governor's landed this priesthood thing on me out of spite, I know that, but he's not going to get me to ruin myself with the expenses as he plans." (Cassius was quite right in his opinion of the Governor's motives in having him made a priest of the cult of the Divine Claudius. The making a personal or political enemy to a priest of a cult where he would be expected to give large and expensive public games to celebrate his appointment was at some stages in the Empire a fairly common tactic.)
"I know it's expensive," Cassius replied.
"It is and in addition to the cost of the gladiators and the wild animals there's no permanent amphitheatre here. I've got to pay for some sort of temporary structure for the games to be held in." "That's bad luck."
" I'm not spending more than I have to," Titus rejoined grimly. " That's what I've been buying these boys for. I'm just going to have a small number of professional gladiators and keep their fighting each other to the end of the show. The first part we'll just be matching boys against gladiators and the boys won't have a chance. That'll safe money and satisfy the crowds blood lust at the same time."
"Won't it be a bit tame. No real sport?"
"The gladiators will be told to take their time cutting the boys down. You stay and watch. It'll be great fun. The boys will be stripped and given short swords. They'll fight even though they don't have a chance that's their nature. They'll be butchered artistically."
"And Marculus here will be part of the spectacle."
"Yes, after I've _f_u_c_k_ed him. I've been wanting to do that to the brat ever since he stopped me whipping that little tyke Gaius for stealing my boat and wrecking it. Come over here tart you've got to please me now."
Cassius gave Marcus's balls a final painful squeeze and with a slap on his bottom sent him across the room to serve his new master.
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A sturdy black youth was crossing the yard a carrying two pales of water. He stopped to watch a small cavalcade swing into it from off the public road. Two boys on fiery little ponies and a middle aged man on a steady looking cob headed the group. Behind them rode five strong well turned out slaves. Longinus Cornellius when sending his adopted son out in the world ensured that he was properly attended (Julius Ceasar when a young man and almost bankrupt still travelled accompanied by a large number of slaves - you lost status if you did not do so).
Ceres caught the glance of one of the boys, a lively dark haired lad. The boy jumped from his pony and ran over to him.
"Ceres don't you recognise me? Come on surely you do look," and he twisted round and pulled up his tunic to show incised on his hip just below the waste the mark of the imperial eagle.
Ceres mind went back to a morning when the yard was full of frightened naked slave boys, he smelt again the acrid smoke from the brazier and heard the screams as hot iron was pressed against tender young bottoms and the jeers and laughter of the spectators. Now a fair haired slightly older youth had joined the dark haired boy. A smile of recognition spread across Ceres's dark face.
"Gaius, " the middle aged man's voice was strained with anger, "would you please have some thought of who you are. You must have some sense of dignity and pride. Not going around exposing yourself to slave brats in public places.... Or anywhere else for that matter," he added quickly.
"Oh Plautus," Gaius said grinning cheekily at his tutor, "Ceres has seen a great deal more of me than this."
"What's going on here? Ceres get on with your work. Young man you are welcome at my Inn but you have slaves of your own to serve you please stop preventing mine from serving me." Vacca had come out of the kitchen into the yard attracted by the noise.
"Miss you don't recognise me either," Gaius said. "If I showed you the whole of my bum you would. You'd recognise your handiwork there after Corax ...."
"This madam," Plautus spoke hastily cutting short Gaius whom he thought, with some justification, was too lively for his own good. "Is the son of Longinus Cornelius he was here some time ago in rather unfortunate circumstances about which I think it would better if nothing more was said. We require lodgings and perhaps you could see these two boys get a meal while I go and call on the local prefect with our letters of introduction."
"Well, well," Vacca said slowly looking from Gaius to Bestia and back, "yes I recognise the pair of you now. You can have our best rooms both of you will be familiar with them and perhaps sometime some one will explain to me what is going on."
"And now Ceres," she continued turning on the black boy. "The reunions over and you can get on with your work you useless little brute."
"Miss couldn't Ceres serve us Miss?" Gaius pleaded. "Plautus will be taking our slaves with him when he calls on the Prefect he always does to impress you know. We'll need someone. Couldn't it be Ceres?"
"I suppose it may as well be," Vacca said resignedly, "The little tyke might even do some thing useful then without me warming his bottom up with the strap."
"Very well Madam thank you." Plautus said and turning to the two boys continued. "Now while I'm away your not to leave the Inn do you understand that."
"Yes Plautus," both boys chorused. Plautus looked at them sharply he was no fool and their very willingness to agree with him filled him with suspicion. On the other hand, he told himself, the letter had to be delivered. All he could do was to order and threaten.
"In particular," he said speaking sternly and gravely to impress on the two lads the seriousness of what he was saying, "you are on no account to go anywhere near those public games I saw advertised as we road into Colchester. They are not suitable places for well brought up young boys to frequent."
Gaius and Bestia looked at him their faces absolutely guiless and innocent.
"If I find you have disobeyed my instructions I will beat you both. You know Longinus gave me authority over you."
"I didn't see anything about Public Games," Bestia said as soon as Plautus had set off on his call, "what's it all about Ceres?"
"They're being held to celebrate the appointment of a new Priest of the Divine Claudius. A man called Titus Cornelius. I was going to try to sneak off and see them. I've saved up enough from tips to pay for a seat."
"Titus is my brother," Gaius remarked
"And we're stopping Ceres from seeing the games," Bestia added. "That's not fair."
"I'm sure if Plautus had known my brother was giving the games he wouldn't have forbade us to go to them."
"It'll be too late to tell him tomorrow though."
"Yes they'll be over by then Bestia. I mean it's not very polite to my brother not to go."
"Quite apart from us causing our friend Ceres disappointment."
"If we went now we would be back before Plautus finished his visiting. You know how long he takes. He would never know we'd been."
"Not that he would mind Gaius, if he did know, if he knew all about your brother giving the games and everything.."
"And we've got plenty of money to pay for entry."
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Gaius sat with his head in his hands. He had been sick first some twenty minutes earlier. It was not the swaying of the gimcrack structure in which they sat, as an increasingly strong wind from the East gusted around it, that had made him so. It was the scenes of continuing brutality that had been played out on the sanded floor of the circus below. The two older boys had not been sick but both were shocked and tense. There was a momentary pause in the proceedings as the lifeless carcass of the last boy to be butchered was hauled unceremoniously from the arena and fresh sand was scattered on the killing floor. The eight gladiators lent on their blood stained weapons grinning and chatting. It had been an easy day so far for them. Boy after naked boy had been driven into the amphitheatre armed only with a pathetically short sword. The gladiators had taken it in turn to play with them, drawing them on, letting them think that for at least a minute or two they had some sort of chance before the blood letting began.
The three boys were crammed into seats immediately above the tunnel through which the victims were driven on their way to the killing ground. They would have left long ago were it not for the men, women and children squashed into the seats about them. Opposite , in a box specially reserved for the patrons of the games, lolled Titus with a young man the boys did not recognise but which Marcus knew only to well, Cassius. Both were slightly drunk. The gladiators, after the first two or three boys had been killed in obedience to a carelessly downward flick of Cassius's thumb, now no longer bothered to look to the patron's box before despatching the victim of the moment. Titus had not noticed his younger brother packed in among the crowd opposite him.
There was a trumpet blast. Gaius moaned to himself and another boy appeared below them. The guard at the entry to the arena thrust forward the torch he held in his right hand aiming to scorch the boy's bottom and send him scuttling forward to meet his fate. It was a trick had already earned him many laughs and some applause from the crowd.
This time something went wrong. Marcus unlike his predecessors did not have his eyes fixed on the grinning gladiators against which he was so unfairly matched. Titus at Cassius's suggestion had instructed, in an act of exquisite cruelty, that he should be the last boy sent into the arena. Marcus knew it was intended that he should be killed and that his chances of avoiding death were minimal but he was no lamb to be driven unresisting to his slaughter. He had not sat crying as many of those that had been taken before him had waiting to be dragged from the cage just outside the arena where the boys were kept. He had stood pressed up against the bars staring up towards the killing floor trying to see what was going on and trying to think up some way of at least putting up a fight. He had seen the man with the torch play his little trick many times.
Marcus had his eye on the guard and when he thrust the torch forward the boy whirled round and slashed his sword hard across the fellow's wrist. The man screamed, blood gushed from his half severed hand. The torch fell to the ground. Marcus seized it and ran forward into the arena straight at the nearest gladiator. He hurled the torch into the man's face. The gladiator through up his arm to ward off the flaming brand and at that instant Marcus shifting his sword back into his right hand leapt at him and stabbed at his throat.
There was pandemonium. The crowd, that had become restless and bored with the one sided slaughter that had so far been offered them for their entertainment, roared. They stamped their feet and clapped. The wooden structure that housed them swayed and it's timbers creaked and groaned as if in sympathy with their excitement.
Bestia had recognised Marcus almost as soon as he had appeared in the tunnel leading to the arena floor. The guard with the torch had hardly staggered back nursing his injured arm than Bestia hurled himself on the man's back from his perch above. The man went down and Bestia seized the sword from his scabbard and ran forward to join Marcus. The man's fellow guard jumped forward to intercept Bestia only to have Ceres 's heels slam into his back as the black boy jumped down help his friend. The man went sprawling his back broken and Ceres grabbing his sword also ran out into the arena
Marcus snatched up the sword of the gladiator he had killed. The seven remaining men began to circle him. He backed away. He knew it was only a question of time probably very little time. Ceres and Bestia joined him and forming a half circle they moved slowly back as the men advanced menacingly.
It took Gaius who had begun to wretch again a second or two to grasp what was happening. The his nausea vanishing at the prospect of action he too leapt down. There was no sword for him so he darted forward to pick up the smouldering torch that Marcus had abandoned.
At that moment there was an enormous crash. The tiered seats of the amphitheatre in front of him disappeared from sight and open sky appeared. There was a moments silence and then the screaming began.
Gaius checked in his stride but then he saw one gladiator taking advantage of the sudden shock of the crash had moved unnoticed round towards the back of the three boys. He ran forward and from behind thrust the now blazing torch between the gladiator's legs. The man screamed and Ceres alerted by this spun round and stabbed. Now Gaius had a sword and now it was four against six. But the four were mere boys hardly able to wield the heavy swords they had captured while the six were experienced and hardened fighters. The s fight would have been quickly over were it not that, as the stadium collapsed about them with a series of rending crashes, increasing numbers of the audience leapt into the arena to avoid being crushed by falling beams and other debris. This panic stricken crowd slowed the advance of the gladiators but they still moved forward, steadily shouldering their way through the milling crush and driving the four boys inexorably back. Marcus felt the enclosing wall of the killing ground against his back. They could retreat no further. The gladiators were within thrusting distance of them and then they suddenly halted their faces turned towards the entry to the stadium.
Marcus followed their gaze and saw a file of soldiers with drawn swords lead by a centurion marching towards them. He knew he was looking at his death either a quick one now or a much longer slower one later, but still death. He yelled and summoning all his strength lifted the heavy man's sword over his head and hurled himself at the Centurion. The man turned his downward stroke on his shield with practised ease and Marcus loosing his balance, carried forward by the weight of his weapon tumbled sprawling on the sand. The centurion pressed his boot down on the boy's right hand forcing him to release his sword.
"Glaucus Crastinus of the Tenth," the centurion said slamming his sword back into it's scabbard, "I heard you were a fighter." He bent forward and holding out his hand pulled Marcus to his feet.
A tall hard faced man in a shabby toga stepped out from between the ranks of the legionaries.
"I told you Marcus we would meet again," said Falco, "but I think we would be wise to leave here before the remainder of this structure collapses on top of us."
The two ranks of soldiers opened to admit the four boys. Glancing back over his shoulder Marcus could see that an enraged mob was shaking the wooden pillars supporting the patron's box which had so far survived the general collapse of the building. Titus and Antonius were standing shouting and gesticulating wildly at the legionaries demanding assistance. A grim smile crossed Crastinus's face and he shouted an order. The soldier wheeled around and marched out of amphitheatre. Behind him Marcus could hear another great crash of falling timber.
(Temporary amphitheatres that collapsed were rather a hazard of Provincial Roman life. Tacitus mentions an incident in his "Histories". In that case the patron got off more lightly than it appears Titus will, being simply fined and banished).
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Falco lying half asleep on his couch looked across the room to where Marcus lent over the window sill peering down into the inn yard. He marvelled at the resilience of the boy. He wondered whether to call the boy back to his couch so he could once more enjoy his bottom so provocatively displayed by his current pose. If that is he had the energy to do so, for Marcus on being brought to the inn had not collapsed in exhaustion as Falco had expected after his ordeal. Rather he had seemed to have been filled with a fierce passionate energy that had brought Falco ultimately to a series of deep shuddering climaxes deep inside the lad. Then Marcus turned back into the room.
"Here comes Gaius now," he said excitedly.
There was the sound of light footsteps running up the stairs and Marcus hurried over to open the door. He threw his arms round Gaius's neck and kissed the boy fiercely on his lips.
"Surely," Falco thought wearily, " he's not going to start again, not after last night," and then wryly, "I suppose I must be getting old."
Gaius extricated himself from Marcus's embrace and glanced across embarressedly at Falco.
"Any news young man?" Falco asked trying to put the boy at ease.
"Crastinus has just looked in to see my tutor. The mob killed Titus and Cassius last night. They blamed Titus for the collapse of the amphitheatre and they set on them both."
"You don't sound too sad about the death of your brother," Falco remarked.
"He was a cruel man. He was always trying to hurt me and I think the slaves on the estate will be celebrating when they hear of his death."
"Marcus, I know we were in debt to your father," Gaius continued rapidly. "Do you know how much it was for? You see I don't need that estate now Uncle Longinus has adopted to me. I thought maybe I could give it to Bestia and look after him like that but I'd have to persuade Uncle to clear the debt first."
"There'll be no need to do that," Falco spoke hastily. "Corax gave me almost unlimited powers, Marcus, to achieve your release and I can commit him to forgiving the debt outstanding on that property. You'll have to grant Marcus his freedom though Gaius because now as your brother's heir he is your slave."
"Good," Gaius said grinning happily, "I was beginning to feel sorry for Bestia now Ceres has been looked after so well. Bestia's free but he had no sort of property to live on."
"What's happened to Ceres?" Marcus asked
"Well Vacca said she couldn't have a boy as a slave who had saved her nephew's life and she's made him her heir for the tavern business. She said she was loosing nothing because he was the most useless and lazy slave she had ever had the misfortune to own and maybe he'd work harder if he had an interest in the business."
"Nephew," Marcus said puzzled.
"Yes," Falco spoke, "your father explained this to me last time I saw him. Your mother and Vacca were sisters. That's why the pair of them are always arguing - sister in law and brother in law. Their owner had one sister called Vacca (cow) and the other Fortunata. He thought it funny. Corax bought them both free and gave Vacca the opening capital for the tavern business."
"Your father would have come himself you know Marcus but he still hadn't been reconciled with the emperor when Helena Crastinus saw you being taken in to your father's villa by Cassius. She came straight to me and then I had first to go first to your father who couldn't leave Parthia at that stage and get all sorts of letters of authorisation from him and the Emperor. After that I had to find you and I would have been too late if it hadn't been for your friends."
"Any way he should be back in Rome by now and you are to go to him there. I have other business that I must now undertake. So if you boys would excuse me..."
"You want us to go?" Marcus asked surprised and added, " but I have no clothes."
"Oh come on," Gaius said, "come over to our rooms we'll have something for you to wear there."
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"Why don't you sit down Gaius," Marcus asked as he rifled through the other boys' clothes looking for something to fit him.
"I..I'd prefer to stand."
Marcus turned and stared at him. A broad grin spread across his face.
"You've been beaten."
"Yes Plautus thrashed both Bestia and me first thing this morning for disobeying him and going to the circus. I told him if we hadn't gone you'd have been killed but he said that wasn't the point and I'd get six extra cuts for arguing. I don't think it's fair."
"You should do as your told Gaius. Let's have a look then."
Obediently Gaius turned round and pulled up his tunic to reveal a bottom across which the cane had scored a good dozen weals now deepening from scarlet to purple with the deeper bruising taking on a yellowish tinge. Marcus grinning ran a finger lightly along one livid welt.
"You won't hurt me too much will you?" Gaius asked nervously
"What's too much," Marcus asked and bending down kissed the welt.
It was some time afterwards that Marcus returned to the task of finding a tunic to fit him.
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Musca crouched against the boulder sheltering from the chill wind, patches of winter snow still lingered among the rocks contrasting wit the fresh green of the spring grass. He told himself he was a very lucky boy. Many masters would have just let him die after the injuries he had received. Crastinus had wanted to keep him down on the farm but he had asked to be sent up into the mountain by himself. Here, though it was lonely, there was nobody to stare at him or to laugh. He wondered how Marcus was. If he had survived or even escaped. Whatever had happened to his one time friend he was sure would not see him again. Marcus would have no time for a slave boy.
He saw two figures on horse back appear on the edge of the corrie picking there way gingerly down the steep slope. It was strange he thought that they were not on the track. They must have struck up the mountain from the road before it reached the farm. Huntsmen perhaps after hares or other game. They seemed to be riding straight towards where the flock of goats were grazing. If they scattered them it would take all day to get them together again. If he was quick he could perhaps get below the flock before they arrived and move the goats out of their way. He leapt to his feet and began to run.
Then an amazing thing happened. One of the riders jumped from his mount. There was a shrill whistle that Musca could hear from where he stood. Taurus the patriarch of the flock _c_o_c_k_ed up his head. The whistle shrilled out again and Taurus trotted over to the rider who bent and patted him. There was only one person other than himself who could do that. Musca ran forward.
Then he hesitated and turned away remembering. He put his hand to the left side of his face feeling the scar. But it was too late for him to draw back now. Marcus's arms were around him hugging him. Musca pulled back.
"What is it Musca? What's the matter?" Marcus asked. He reached out and pulled Musca's hand away from his face.
"They did that to you Musca?" He asked staring at the empty eye socket.
"Yes Sir," Musca muttered trying to turn his face away
"Not Sir, Marcus. I'm your friend don't you remember," and Marcus lent forward and kissed the scar. Marcus was silent for a moment. It was the first time in his young life that he had cried for anyone else but himself.
"You don't have to call anyone ' Sir' ever again unless you want to Musca. You're free now. My father has given you your freedom."
Musca smiled but then his face clouded over.
"What is to become of me and of Taurus.... And whose going to tell Crastinus?"
"You're going to come and live with me in Rome and Taurus will come too. He fought that mountain lion with us we'll not leave him behind," Marcus said cheerfully. "We'll go down now to the farm now and I'll tell Crastinus."
This latter statement was made with rather less self confidence. In fact Marcus was feeling nervous at the prospect of meeting Crastinus again. He had been the only man that Marcus had come across while he was in servitude who had treated him at all decently. He knew that but he somehow he could not put out of his mind the feel of Crastinus's belt across his bare bum or escape from a lingering fear that the man might if he said something to upset him pull his tunic up over his shoulders and thrash him once again. It was to avoid Crastinus that he had struck off over the mountain before he and Gaius had reached the farm but he knew he could not postpone doing so any longer.
"Come on," he said, "you get up in front of me and we'll see him now."
"I must get my cloak," Musca said, "he'll be angry if I leave it behind up here."
"Gaius will have to carry it," Marcus said.
His eyes challenged Gaius to dare to laugh as Musca scurried off to his shelter to get the cloak. Gaius, who was a good hearted lad, did not even smile as he gravely took charge of the threadbare garment smelling equally of boy and goat. Musca kept tight hold in one rather grubby fist of the small fragment of glass that was his most prized possession.
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Marcus's nervousness did not decrease as they got nearer the farm. It would he thought have been better if they had been able to approach the place rather more discreetly. The bleating of the goats and the clang of Taurus bell made a quiet approach impossible.
Indeed Helena appeared at the farm house door before they were fairly in the yard.
"Marcus," she asked smiling at him "what are you up to?"
"I've come to take Musca to Rome Miss," Marcus had not intended to call her 'miss' but the word slipped out despite himself. "My fathers given him his freedom."
"To Rome," the smile disappeared off Helena's face and her voice changed.
"Well be that as it may," she snapped, "he's not leaving this farm until he's been deloused and wormed. I'm not going to have people saying I send boys out of here to spread vermin and disease. And you too Marcus, down you get off that pony and strip. You've had him up close to you and knowing the pair of you I expect you've been kissing each other."
"But...," Marcus began. He got no further for Helena caught him by the ankle and pulled him from the pony. She pulled his tunic up over his head and a moment later she was driving the two naked boys into the house with sharp slaps on their bare rumps.
Laughing Gaius tethered the two ponies and settled himself on the terrace to wait. He was still laughing when a few minutes later a stockily built man rode into the yard.
"Well young Sir," the man demanded, " who are you and what do you find so amusing in my yard?"
"I am sorry Sir," Gaius said scrambling to his feet and rightly surmising that this was the Crastinus, "I'm a friend of Marcus and I'm laughing because your wife is treating him for lice and worms."
As he spoke their was the sound of a young voice raised in youthful protest followed by the sharp slap of a hand on bare flesh and a squeal of pain.
"I'd better sort this out straight away," Crastinus said hurriedly dismounting.
"Oh Sir, wait a moment please Sir," Gaius spoke urgently, "Marcus had some things for you and I know he would want me to give them to you."
As Crastinus hesitated Gaius darted over to Marcus's pony and drew from it's saddle bag two very official looking scrolls. He handed them to Crastinus who taking them from him with a puzzled frown unrolled first one and then the other. Gaius watched the man's face as he read. He knew what was in the scrolls for Marcus had discussed their contents with him and had mentioned his reluctance to hand them to Crastinus himself.
"See if you can manage to give them to him when I'm not about Gaius would he ," he had asked. "I know he'll be pleased with them but it just didn't seem right my giving them to him."
Crastinus read through the first scroll slowly, rolled it up and then stood staring out across the valley to the mountain side opposite, before reading through the second. Not a flicker of emotion showed in his face. Then he spun on his heel and ran into the house.
Helena looked up startled when Crastinus burst into the room. She was sitting pouring an evil smelling liquid over the cropped heads of the two naked boys who were crouched side by side at her feet their heads bent over a bucket on the floor.
"The farm," Crastinus shouted almost incoherent with excitement, "and half a million sesterces."
He waived the scrolls at his startled wife.
"What ever are you talking about?" Helena asked amazed. She had not seen her husband in such a state of excitement since they had received the news of their son's promotion to Centurion.
"The farm and half a million," he shouted again. "That's what these scrolls are...or what they give us. Corax has given us this farm and half a million."
"You know what we're going to do woman. We're going to adopt Musca."
Musca started up knocking the bucket over flooding the floor with noxious liquid and threw himself at Crastinus wrapping his arms about the man and soaking his tunic with as he pressed his head against his chest. The fragment of glass that he had kept tight hold of up to that moment clattered to the floor. Laughing Crastinus returned the naked boy's hug. Marcus gave up the idea of pointing out that Musca was free now and should have a say in deciding his own future. It seemed to him the boy had made his wishes quite clear. Instead as he padded off into the kitchen on bare feet to find a mop to clear the mess up he said over his shoulder. "You will let him come to visit me for a holiday Sir won't you? I promised him I'd show him Rome."
That is the end of the story. As for what happened afterwards the good and moderately good survived and prospered. The evil met fates appropriate to their wickedness.