Zelamir

A Roman Holiday

Chapters 24-26

Chapter 24

"Marcus get back on the bed with your bum in the air. Now you're a slave as nature obviously intended you have to earn your keep like any other little slut."

Cassius still laughing released the boy's ears. Marcus struggled to grasp what had happened. The shock of discovering that, from the very first moment, Cassius had recognised his true identity had completely unsettled him. Slowly anger and shame replaced the initial numbing panic. It was bad enough having to pretend to be slave boy and offering his body to satisfy Cassius's lusts. Somehow it made it ten times worse to discover that Cassius had known all along his true identity.

"Move whore," Cassius said cuffing him on the side of the head, "I haven't all day. We've got a long journey ahead of us. A lot of people are looking for you. I think though we'll keep you for ourselves and use you to force your father back to Rome. Then we can extract his whole fortune from him. After that is done, well, we'll see. Perhaps the Emperor's inquisitors will be glad to have you or a boy brothel…which ever pays the best no doubt."

The blow, the realisation that his step mother's family would use him to blackmail his father, triggered something within Marcus. Without warning he drove the top of his head into Cassius's sneering face. The man taken completely by surprise fell backwards onto the bed, his open hands clasped to his face, blood welling from between his fingers. Marcus took one glance at the injured man and ran to the window. He threw the shutters open and jumped. He landed on his feet like a cat and was running again the instant he touched the ground. From behind him he heard Cassius shouting.

Two of the kennel men appeared round the house from the right. Marcus turned and sprinted to the left, aiming to cut between the barn and the house. Behind him he could hear the thud of the men's boots on the ground as they pursued him. Ahead of him a groom's startled face appeared looking over the half door of one of the loose boxes. The man quickly took in what was happening and moved out to cut off the fleeing naked boy. Marcus dodged from one side to the other and then catching the man off balance ducked below his outstretched arms.

Ahead of him he could see the yard wall and beyond the snow covered mountain slope. Once out there he would have a chance of escaping but how he would survive even one night in the freezing cold was another matter. He reached the wall and leapt for it. His hands clasped it's top. His bare feet scrabbled desperately at the rough stones. Glancing back he saw the groom almost on him. He had his right leg along the top of the wall. A hand caught his left ankle. He kicked out trying to break the hold. The man's grasp held. There was a sharp jerk on his leg and he was dragged off the wall falling on all fours on the ground. He tried to get away but the man's boot thudded into his stomach winding him.

"I'll teach you to run away," the man shouted punctuating his words with savage kicks to Marcus's ribcage.

"Get him to his feet we'll deal with the runt," another voice commanded.

Marcus was hauled to his feet and held by the groom, the man's fore arm across his throat, his feet clear of the ground, kicking helplessly. The two kennel men stood in front of him their hands on their knees panting for breath.

"Hit the boss would you?" one demanded and his fist thudded into the boys face.

Then the man stumbled forward as Musca drove the point of a broom handle into his kidneys. The second kennel man spun to face the boy only to receive a blow in his crutch that doubled him over. For a moment it looked as though Musca's intervention would be successful as he turned to deal with the man holding Marcus but another two men appeared from the house and Musca was taken from behind. He was knocked to the ground. The men took it in turns to kick the boy, his slight body lifting and shifting on the ground as their heavy boots thudded into it.

The groom watching the fun relaxed his hold on Marcus. The boy sank his teeth in the man's arm and wriggled free. He ran forward to try to protect his friend. The groom shouted and strong hands pulled him away from Musca.

"The little brute's bitten me," the groom shouted. "One of you give me a knife I'll geld the tyke."

One of the kennel man drew a knife from it's sheath on his belt. The men clustered round grinning as the groom advanced on Marcus the bare blade glinting in his hand.

"I think that's enough for a moment."

Cassius had joined them unnoticed in the excitement. He stood now slightly to one side a blood stained rag pressed to his nose.

"He's too valuable for the moment to kill. Bind his hands and bring him to the house," he continued. "I promise you we will have some fun with him later."

"What's happening? What's going on?" Crastinus asked hurrying up in his turn from the other side of the yard.

"Oh Crastinus," Cassius said silkily, "I don't suppose you knew what an important and valuable guest you have been entertaining here. Let me introduce you to Marcus son of the traitor Corax."

"So you spoke the truth after all," Crastinus said looking wonderingly at the naked boy now held firmly by the arms by two men, his wrists secured behind his back, blood dribbling down his chin from where the kennel man's fist had split his lips.. "You are the son of Corax"

"Of the traitor Corax," Cassius snapped.

"I don't know about that," Crastinus said slowly. "He has always been good to me and mine."

As he spoke Crastinus's right hand moved automatically across his body to where his sword would have rested when he was a soldier. His gesture was noticed and understood. Cassius took a step backwards and the other men tensed and fell silent.

"Sir," Marcus said, breaking the tension, "Sir, please look to Musca, he was trying to help me and I think he has been hurt badly."

His intervention was deliberate. Crastinus would not have had a chance, alone and unarmed, against Cassius's men. It served it's purpose. Crastinus glanced across to where Musca's small body lay forgotten, broken and bleeding in mire of the yard. With an oath he hurried over and knelt beside him. Cassius gestured to his men and they began to drag Marcus away towards the house.

"Cassius what ever has happened to your nose?" Antonius demanded as he joined the group of men.

"My little friend there did it with his head," Cassius grated gesturing at Marcus.

"On purpose? Are you going to torture him. After one of the dinners at the palace we all went to watch a youth being tortured in the cells. You have no idea how he screamed when they used the red hot pincers on him. So shrill you know. Quite painful on the ears. I could only stand it for a little . But I suppose it wouldn't be so bad in the open air if we had it done in the yard. It would pass the time after we return from hunting this evening and would have a good effect on the other slave brats."

"No, no Antonius you've got no idea how valuable this boy is. I'll explain it all to you in the house while we get ready to ride to Rome. You will come with me won't you? The rest of our friends can stay here and hunt. I would like them to keep an eye on Crastinus. These old soldiers you know have peculiar ideas about loyalty and gratitude which make them a danger to all reasonable people. I wouldn't put it past him to try some stupid rescue mission."

"Vindex," Cassius continued addressing one of the slaves, "go to the stables. Find Argius and the two of you saddle up four of the best horses we have here. Bring them to the front of the house. Come armed the pair of you. You will ride to Rome with me."

"You two," he went on speaking to the two men holding Marcus, "keep that boy safe till we're ready to go if you value your hides."

"Now," he said taking Antonius by the arm, "I will explain all this to you."

Half an hour later Marcus was lead back into the yard his hands still bound behind his back. The four men were already mounted and ready for the journey. Cassius and Antonius richly dressed with thick cloaks and swords at their sides. The two grooms in heavy woollen garments, Vindex with a dagger in his belt, Argius carrying a long spear.

"Take him up in front of you Vindex," Cassius ordered.

Marcus was lead over to the slave's horse. Vindex lent down and helped the two men holding the boy hoist him up onto the back of the horse. They found little trouble in lifting the boy's slight body so that he was seated in front of the groom. The man reached round him to take hold of the reign and Marcus felt his coarse clothes against his naked back.

Cassius reached down and snatched a piece of sacking from off the shoulders of one of the watching men.

"Wrap this round the brat," he ordered Vindex, "I don't want him freezing to death before he reaches his loving step mother."

Then he dug his heels into the flanks of his mount and clattered out of the yard followed by Antonius, then Vindex with Marcus jolting about uncomfortably in front of his captor and finally the spear carrying Argius.

It was clear that Cassius wished to put as much distance as he could between them and Crastinus during what remained of the short winter's day. They rode hard and dusk was falling before he slackened his pace just after they had ridden through the town of Voisini..

"You said your father had a farm somewhere about here Antonius?" Cassius enquired.

"Yes the turning is off to our right about a mile further on. But they won't be expecting us."

"No matter provided there are beds for us and shelter for the horses and slaves. I suppose there'll be food and wine there even if it means killing a couple of chickens for our suppers," and Cassius rode forward again.

It was dark by the time they reached the farm. The house was shuttered and apparently lifeless. No amount of hammering on the front door could raise anyone. It was only after Argius had been despatched, stumbling and swearing in the darkness, to the barn that he managed to find anyone. Then it was only an old and very frightened slave who had been left as a caretaker over the winter.

"Sir," the old man mumbled nervously as he stood by Antonius's horse wring his hands, "if I had known you were coming ….. but there is only me and little in the way of food or anything here."

"No matter you," said Antonius carelessly, "open up the house for us and we will forage for ourselves. I know where my father keeps the wine and even if I do not have a key to the cellar we will soon have the door off it's hinges."

"Sir what will your father say if…" The old man remonstrances were cut short by Antonius kicking him in the face.

"Shut up you old fool," Antonius commanded. "Open up the house as I ordered if you don't want to feel the whip across your shoulders and do not concern yourself with the affairs of your betters."

It was not long before Cassius and Antonius were comfortably settled in the best room of the house. The cellar door had collapsed under Argius's assault and the two young men were enjoying a bottle of Valernian while the remains of the door fed the fire at which they warmed their feet.

"What shall I do with the brat?" Vindex asked from the shadows in the side of the room where he stood holding Marcus.

"Oh untie his wrists. He can't get away here and he can wait on us while you help Argius forage for some food," Cassius replied.

Marcus felt the man's hands brush against his bare bottom as he fumble at the cord binding his wrists. It seemed to him that the job took Vindex rather longer than necessary. Then his hands were free and he was rubbing the red bands where the rope had burnt his skin..

"Come over here boy," Cassius commanded and Marcus shuffled reluctantly forward into the light.

"Nearer boy. You can't serve us standing half a mile [800m] off can you stupid little brute? You need to be close enough to fill up our glasses when they need it which will be often enough."

"Not a bad looking little tart is he Antonius." Cassius lent forward and ran his hand up the back of Marcus's thigh and squeezed his bum. Marcus stood there tense and glowering resenting the man's touch but powerless to escape.

" Do you know back in Rome when I first made a pass at him he turned me down flat," Cassius continued. "Too proud for words but it's different now. He's learnt he's got to please his betters. He's become a really lively little whore. Likes nothing better than his master's cock up that pretty bottom of his and good at sucking too. You should try him Antonius. You'll give him a really good time won't you Marculus" ( Authors note. The Romans added ulus to a word as I have mentioned earlier in this series to indicate both smallness and contempt. Thus puerulus meant not only a small boy but a small slave boy with the further implication that the child was his masters sexual play thing. Thus Cassius by calling Marcus Marculus was indicating that the boy was both a slave and a whore )

Marcus shifted uneasily under the man's touch but said nothing.

"Come on speak up slut," Cassius snapped, "or I'll have Vindex take the whip to you. There's nothing he would like more. He likes the whip does Vindex and he doesn't like little boys who bite."

"Yes," Marcus mumbled reluctantly and then as he saw Cassius's face darken with anger added hastily. "Yes Sir."

"That's better Marculus. You're a slave now and must try to please your Master. A good slave loves and respects his Master and I'm going to teach you to be a good slave."

Cassius moved his hand away from Marcus's bottom and ran it up the lads ribcage. He took one of the boy's nipples between his finger and thumb and pinched it hard. Marcus cried out in pain and the man laughed.

"The slut seems a bit sulky," Antonius remarked with a grin.

"I'm afraid he is Antonius and nobody likes a sulky slave. Still I expect we'll cure him of it in time. Come on Marculus let's see you smile." Cassius twisted the boy's nipple viciously.

Argius reappeared grasping two chickens by their necks. By the time these were plucked and cooked Cassius and Antonius were well on their towards finishing their first bottle of wine. They chatted idly while Marcus saw their glasses were kept filled and endured their constant fondling of his body. He longed to escape. He was sure that if he could just get to the horses he would be able to get clear. Serving the two men and with the slaves busy in the room no opportunity presented itself. Then his chance came.

"My glass is almost empty Marculus," Cassius said crossly looking up from his plate of chicken stew, "pay attention to what's going on can't you."

"The bottle's empty Sir," Marcus replied.

"Well go to the cellar and get a fresh one. Hurry boy. You should know better than to keep your betters waiting."

Marcus darted from the room. Behind him he heard Cassius say in a satisfied voice, "there he's learning. Slave bred you know. It comes naturally to the little brute."

In a few seconds he was outside in the yard. It was a dark night and he had no idea where the stables were. Dimly he could see farm buildings looming above him to the right. He ran across to them. He knew he had little time before the men began to wonder where he had got to. Feeling his way along the side of the barn he listened at each door he came to. Behind the third one he heard a rustle of movement. He pushed it open. It was pitch dark inside but ahead of him he heard a horse whinny. Forgetting all caution he moved quickly forward and stumbled headlong over a bundle lying on the floor.

Marcus scrambled to get up but a hand closed round his ankle in an iron grip.

"What's happening?" A man's voice demanded.

Marcus recognised the voice of the old slave that had welcomed them when they first arrived at the farm. Marcus tried to wrench his ankle free but although the man might be old he was still stronger than a twelve year old boy.

"What are you doing here?" The man demanded pulling Marcus towards him.

"Please let me go. Please," Marcus pleaded. "I'll …I'll do what ever you want if you'll let me go. I'll suck you Sir any thing Sir. I'm good at sucking.. You can have me up the bum if you'll let me go."

"A run away eh?" The old slave said.

"Yes Sir please don't take me back to them Sir please." Marcus was almost crying now.

"It's no good my boy. You'll have to come with me. I can't take the risk. If let you go I'd be lucky to get off with a flogging. The young Lord's a cruel master and I've seen men nailed up for less."

Holding Marcus firmly by the scruff of his neck he marched the naked boy back into the house. In the hall way they were met by Vindex.

"So there you are boy," he said reaching out to take him from the other slave, "come with me you're in for a thrashing now."

"I found him," the older man said retaining his grip on Marcus's neck.

For a moment it seemed as though a tug of war was going to develop between Vindex and the old slave. Then Cassius's voice interrupted their contest demanding what was going on.

"I caught him Sir," the old man said brushing past Vindex and pushing Marcus ahead of him into the room where Cassius and Antonius sat. "He was trying to run away Sir. He was in the stables after a horse and I caught him."

"Well leave him here now and we'll deal with the brat," Cassius commanded.

"He said he'd suck me Sir if I let him go and let me have him up the bum too."

"Oh I see that's what you're after. Well you'll get your reward in the morning. Masters before slaves you know. Now get out of here. You smell of the farm yard."

Cassius walked up to Marcus and without saying a word hit him hard with his clenched fist full in the face at the same time kicking his feet from under him. Marcus crashed backwards full length on the floor. Cassius pinned him to the ground with a foot pressed into his stomach.

"Argius," he ordered, "Fetch your spear. Now bind the little tyke's ankles to it about a foot apart. Now you and Vindex take hold of each end of the spear and lift it up waste high."

Marcus lay on his back, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth where Cassius's fist had split his lips, gazing up fearfully at his tormentor.

Cassius picked up a cloth from the table and dipped it in a pitcher of cold water.

"Have you noticed Antonius how delicate a boy's feet are. Look at Marculus's here, clearly a slaves feet, dirty and calloused yet so small and fragile." As he spoke he sponged the dirt away. "Really rather pathetic and although the souls have been hardened the nerves are still very much alive, look how his toes curl when I do this." He ran his thumb nail firmly along the arch of Marcus's foot.

Smiling faintly he replaced the damp cloth on the table and picked up his riding crop. Without warning he landed a vicious cut between Marcus's legs catching him across the scrotum.. The boy screamed shrilly and clasped his hands to his crutch.

"Just pull his hands clear, would you Antonius, please."

Antonius dropped to his knees and reaching forwards pulled his hands away from his balls pinning his wrists to the floor above Marcus's head. He bent forward and kissed the whimpering boy full on the lips.

"Now Marculus pay attention or you'll get another one across the same place. Are you paying attention brat?" Cassius raised the cane to strike again.

"Sir yes Sir," Marcus gasped desperately.

"Good I'm very disappointed with you Marculus. I thought last night you had learnt to be an obedient willing little slave boy eager to please your Masters but today you have behaved badly. You've been sulky and bad tempered and I really can't allow that in a slave brat. And now trying to run away, to steal a horse, when you knew that Antonius here had said he would honour you by fucking your bum. That is very ungrateful and wicked. You've been put into this world Marculus to serve and give pleasure not to have ideas and wishes of your own. Clearly you have been spoilt and I must cure you of this foolish wilfulness."

Once again the crop cut down between Marcus's legs and the boy howled in agony.

"Do you understand boy?"

"Yes Sir…Please Sir…"

"You can let go of the child's wrists if you wish now Antonius." "It is fortunate you know," Cassius continued as Antonius came to stand beside him, "how providence supports the natural order of things. Here we are with a slave brat that needs a beating, whom I do not want to mark in a noticeable way before I deliver him to my sister and who needs to be prevented from trying to run away again. All that can be achieved in one operation."

With these words he raised the crop and brought it down hard across the bare soles of Marcus's feet. The boy yelped and threw himself about on the floor.

"Hold him steady now," Cassius commanded the two slaves and struck again.

Again the pain caused through Marcus's body. Cassius plied the cane vigorously raining a series of short sharp strokes down on the boy's feet. Before long it seemed to Marcus as if every nerve in his body was being wrenched and twisted into a knot of all consuming agony. He no longer felt the individual blows fall just the overall excruciating pain that gripped his body and drove out all other sensations. Held firm by his ankles his body threshed and rolled on the floor as the man continued his merciless assault. His hands and head drummed on the ground, while snot and tears streamed down his face and a shrill constant scream was forced out between foam flecked lips.

"I think," Cassius said pausing at last in his cruel work, "that that will probably do."

He bent forward to examine the souls of Marcus's feet. Slipping the loop of the crop over his wrist he took one of Marcus's feet in his hand and pressed his thumb nail firmly down into the tortured flesh. The boy's screams reached a new intensity.

"You two unfasten his ankles. Antonius we will have a drink to refresh ourselves and give the brat a minute or two to recover before you enjoy him."

Cassius and Antonius returned to their seats by the fire where they lounged at their ease sipping their wine. Marcus released from the cords that bound his ankles to the shaft of the spear rolled himself into a ball on the floor and sobbing quietly.

"Marculus," Cassius drawled after a little time had passed. Marcus raised his head and looked at his tormentor threw eyes blurred with tears.

Marculus," Cassius continued, "you seem to be forgetting your duty. Our glasses are empty fill them at once."

Marcus began to pull himself gingerly upright dreading the moment when he would have to rest the weight of his body on his raw feet.

"Vindex the boy seems to have difficulty in standing. Be a good fellow and help him."

Vindex stepped forward and with a cruel smile hauled Marcus roughly to his feet.

The boy screamed. It felt as though he was walking on burning coals. He began a grotesque jig as he tried to ease the agony as the pulverised flesh on the base of his feet touched the floor. The four men watching roared with laughter.

"Why Marculus," Cassius sneered, "what ever is the matter. You'll never be able to pour wine hopping about in that ridiculous manner. You really are the most useless slave boy I've ever had the misfortune to own. Still never mind go and lie on the couch over there. On your face whore with your arse up in the air ready for Antonius to fuck your miserable carcass. Get on boy."

There were further howls of laughter as Marcus half hopped half staggered across to the couch. He stretched himself out on it as commanded, hating the man for the pain and humiliation they had inflicted on him, hating himself for bearing them.

Antonius stood up and pulled his tunic up over his head. He undid his loin cloth and let it drop to the floor. His prick already stood erect and distended. He had been greatly excited by watching Marcus's punishment. He spat on his hand and lubricated his swollen cock with his own saliva. Cassius also got to his feet. Casually he thrust the poker into the glowing embers of the wood fire. He glanced at the two slaves and nodded. Grinning evilly they too began to approach the couch.

Antonius in a state of high arousement wasted no time on preliminaries. He knelt between Marcus's legs and thrust forward impaling the boy on his shaft. Marcus groaned as he felt the man's member invade his body. Antonius brutally rammed his cock into the boy. With three powerful thrusts he forced his way past the lad's sphincter and buried his prick's full length in his body. His balls slapped against the child's bare bum as he drove forward. As always, despite the pain, despite his own wish not to do so, Marcus began to respond to the man's invasion of his body.

Cassius pulled the poker from the fire. At the same moment Vindex and Argius gripped Marcus's by the ankles. Grinning broadly Cassius pressed the glowing tip of the iron bar against the bottom of one of Marcus's feet. The boy screamed and his whole body was convulsed. Antonius cried out as the child in his agony clamped himself tight and writhing about his cock. With a loud groan the man came in a many phased orgasm deep inside the boy.

After a moment or two Antonius rolled away from the boy. He got back on his feet and stood panting by the couch looking down at Marcus's naked sobbing body.

"I'll lay a small bet that you've never had a more lively boy than that one," Cassius said laughing.

"You'd win it if you did. It's a trick I must remember for the future. I think it might be something that we could use in the Golden Palace. I don't think that I've ever heard of it being used even there."

"The only trouble is that it leaves the boy in a bit of a mess. Chuck this boy out in the hall one of you. We don't want his sobbing disturbing us," Cassius ordered.

"Isn't there a danger he'll try to make another break for it?" Antonius asked

"Not with his feet like that," Cassius replied reassuringly. "He wouldn't make it to the yard even."

There was further hilarity so far as the men were concerned the next morning when the old slave came to claim his reward for betraying Marcus. Cassius refused to allow the man in the house because he was so dirty. Marcus therefore had to service him in the yard with the other men standing round and jeering as he laboured. Indeed at first the boy was unwilling to perform but this reluctance quickly vanished when Antonius proposed a further application of the hot poker to the soles of his feet.

After the old fellow had been satisfied Vindex tied Marcus's wrists behind his back. He then wiped the lad's bottom clean with a handful of grass before lifting him onto the back of his horse for he did not want the saddle stained with filth.

They rode hard throughout that day and it was still some hours before sunset when they trotted through the Colina Gate and Marcus was once again back in Rome. He sat slumped in the saddle held in place by Vindex. Head bowed sunk in misery he took no notice of the crowds that jostled about them as they forced their way through the crowded Roman streets. This feeling of numb hopelessness stayed with him when he was pulled roughly to the ground and he saw that he was standing at the base of the broad flight of marble steps leading up to the portico of his old home.

"Get that lazy brat moving Vindex," Cassius called over his shoulder as he and Antonius hurried up the steps.

"Go on boy don't keep your master waiting," the slave ordered giving Marcus a push in the back to encourage him.

Marcus hobbled forward each step sending waves of pain through his body. He did not move fast enough for Vindex who reinforced his order with a savage kick on the boy's bum. Marcus staggered forward and loosing his balance fell to his knees. Passers by turned to see what was the cause of the commotion. Among them was a stocky country woman who had appeared from the side of the house. Her eyes rested on Marcus for a moment as he crouched on the steps sobbing and then wrapping her shawl about her head, she hurried away.

"Hurry it up," Vindex shouted, "crawl like the filthy brute you are if you must but get up those steps now."

The slaves brutality ignited a spark of spirit in the boy. He had not much pride left to him but he was not going to crawl into his own house with the slaves and freemen sneering at him. Marcus forced himself to stand up and then, biting down hard on his lower lip to stop crying out, walked, despite the agony that each step caused, him up the stairs.

"Take me to your Mistress, my sister, at once," Cassius commanded the porter.

The man's gaze strayed past the young man and rested on Marcus. His eyes widened as he recognised in the naked slave boy his master's eldest son.

"But Sir…" The slave stuttered gesturing at Marcus.

"But what you stupid brute. You've seen a plenty of dirty little slave tarts like that one I'm sure. Get a move on man and do as your told if you don't want a thrashing. And Marculus, you idle lump of dog's shit don't lag behind if you don't want the same."

Marcus stumbled along behind the two men as they followed the porter further into the villa. The porter took them to what Marcus recognised as his father's old study. He knocked on the door. A shrill bad tempered woman's voice told him to enter.

"Your brother to see you Miss and another gentleman," the slave said holding the door open for Cassius and Antonius.

"Ah Philomela," Cassius said as he entered the room with a satisfied air, "I have a gift for you.

"And for you too Father," he added catching sight of a fat worried looking man and bowing slightly.

He glanced over his shoulder and clicked his fingers impatiently

"Just put your boot up that brat of mine's bum. I want his useless idle carcass here now," he snapped at the porter and then turning back to his father and sister said, "I think you both know my friend Antonius."

The porter remained unmoving by the door. As Marcus made his painful way past him he bowed slightly and closed the door. Cassius who was busy talking did not notice the man's disobedience. Nor would it have occurred to any of the adults there to wonder, if they had noticed the man's bow, whether it was addressed to the slave brat rather than to themselves.

"What idiocy are you up to now Cassius?" His father demanded impatiently. "Your sister and I have problems enough without you wasting our time with your play boy friends and some little slave tart that you've purchased out of the gutter."

"Father I am surprised at you. Surely you recognise your nephew by marriage. The slave collar sits naturally about his throat don't you think? That's not surprising considering his breeding."

"It is Marcus," Philomela confirmed. She did not sound pleased.

"Why have you brought him here?" Cassius's father demanded fiddling nervously with the broad silver ring on his left hand.

"I thought you'd be pleased to have him," Cassius protested. "You can use him to force his father back to Rome and then to surrender his wealth to Philomela."

"The problem now is not getting Corax back here. It is keeping him away. When we moved in every free man of his seems to have disappeared. The slaves profess to know nothing and if they do know anything they're not saying, even under torture. Every creditor of his is pressing for payment and we have no idea of who owes him money. As a result we haven't been able to pay the monies we promised either as bribes to the imperial freemen or as contributions to the treasury we promised the Emperor. Now the Emperor has lost patience and I understand he has been negotiating with Corax for some time now to persuade him to return."

"I..I didn't know all of that Father."

"You don't know anything," his fond parent snapped. "Now you've brought the boy here what are we to do with hi?. If you'd left him up in the mountains there'd have been a good chance of him starving to death before the summer. Then your sister's son Lucius would have been Corax's heir and we'd have at least salvaged something from the wreck."

"Couldn't we just kill the brat Father. Then Lucius would be his heir anyway."

"That might have been a solution if you hadn't brought the little brute here. Every slave in the place will know by now that we have him. Kill him now and our corpses will be found floating in the Cloaca Maxima (the main Roman sewer) once Corax is back."

"Couldn't we murder both of them father?" Philomela suggested. "Then we could tell Corax that we killed Cassius to punish him for murdering Marcus."

"That idea is not without it's attractions but it won't work my dear. Not now that the whole household knows that the boy is here with us."

The fat man sat slumped in his chair thinking drumming his fingers on it's arms.

"I have it. There's that young man in England, Titus Cornelius, who's been bothering us about the provision in Corax's deed of manumission by which his eldest son was to be surrendered on reaching his thirteenth birthday to be a slave of his father Julius . The father has died, drunk himself to death I believe, and now young Titus is chasing his dues under the deed. I think Corax had some hold on the Cornelius's but his agent in England disappeared when Corax fled abroad and I can't find out what it was. They probably owed him money but I can't prove it. We'll send Marcus to him and that will be that. Otherwise we might have had to let him have your son Philomena when he reached thirteen."

"You can't take my Lucius to be a slave," Philomena protested angrily.

"Well it would be either that or paying young Titus a sizeable sum of money to forgo his rights under the deed. Anyway that won't arise now. And there's another advantage. I happen to know that Titus has been made priest of the Divine Claudius in Britain. He's desperate to lay his hands on as many boys as he can for the games at Colchester he has to give to celebrate this. Marcus will make good boy's flesh for the arena. He'll be killed and we won't be blamed. All we have done is to hand him over as we were legally obliged to under the deed of manumission."

Chapter 25

"Yes, thank you my dear, all that remains is for Cassius to take the brat to Britain immediately and obtain a receipt for him from Titus Cornelius."

"Go to Britain Father," Cassius cried in dismay. "Leave Rome in January and travel to Britain. It will be a horrible journey even using the imperial posts. (Rome had a system of imperial posts set at intervals along all major routes. Here travellers could obtain remounts and accommodation. They could only be used by travellers authorised either personally by the Emperor or by a governor of a province). Can't it wait until the spring. Anyway couldn't you send some slave or other with the dirty little beast."

"The answer to all those questions Cassius is no and you deceive yourself if you think I am going to risk what little influence remains to me in imperial circles by soliciting use of the imperial posts on your behalf. You will set out this evening. You will sail from Ostia to Marseilles and then proceed up the Rhone Valley through Gaul to the North Sea where you will procure a crossing to London. From there you will go to Colchester and surrender the boy to his new owner. Having obtained a clear receipt for the brat you will take it to London and give it to my agent there. After that what you do is your concern not mine. I would suggest however you do not return to Rome."

"Not return to Rome!" It was clear Cassius was deeply shocked.

"Not unless you wish to explain yourself and the state you brought his beloved son to this villa to Corax my dear boy," Cassius's father grinned wolfishly. "You got us into this mess and now you will pay the price."

"But where will I go?"

"I don't know and frankly I don't care. Vindonessa on the borders of Upper Germany might be safe. On the other hand it might not. The same advice incidentally goes for that useless friend of yours."

"Me?" Antonius gasped. He had been standing to one side wisely trying to keep out of what was clearly a heated family quarrel.

"Yes. Unless you feel confident that your friendship with the Emperor, of which you are so proud, is sufficiently firm and strong to protect you. I personally wouldn't put much reliance on it."

"But I can't leave Rome. What will I do. It isn't fair I only came along to keep Cassius company. It was Cassius who put the poker to the little whore's feet."

"And who was fucking the tart when I did it and who asked me to do it again? You're as much in this as I am Antonius."

"Get out and take the boy with you. The pair of you bore me and the brat smells. By the way make sure, in your own interests Cassius, the boy gets to Colchester alive and in one piece. Titus must not be given an excuse for rejecting him."

Cassius turned, grabbed Marcus by his shoulder and hustled him from the room followed by Antonius. Without speaking to each other the two young men hurried out of the house. Antonius ran down the steps, took the reigns of his horse from Vindex, vaulted into the saddle and trotted off. Vindex and Argius seeing Cassius coming down the steps towards them, with the boy he had so proudly intended to present to his sister, exchanged alarmed glances. Clearly something had gone wrong with his plans and they knew from painful experience that when that happened he was liable to vent his frustrations on the backs and shoulders of his slaves.

"Vindex take this brat up in front of you," Cassius ordered. "We're going home."

It was only a short journey to Cassius's parents house and it was completed in silence. Cassius was furious at his treatment by his father while Vindex and Argius, although ignorant of the cause of his anger sensed it and were fearful of doing anything that might cause the young man to vent it on them. Marcus on the other hand sensed a faint glimmer of hope. He had heard Cassius's father warn his son not to harm him. That surely meant no more applications of the hot iron and at the most only moderate beatings. True he was apparently destined for the arena, but in Britain. The journey there was a long one and there might well be opportunities for him to escape. Anyway a comparatively quick death in the arena was better than being tortured for the amusement of Cassius and his friends.

. "Argius tell my people to pack a case for me and meet me here in two hours time. We're going to Britain," Cassius ordered as he dismounted outside a somewhat smaller villa than Corax's. "Vindex come with me and bring that little whore with you."

He strode off leading the way through dark corridors and down narrow staircases into the cellars at the back of the building. He came to a heavy wooden door and pushed it open. A vast brown skinned man rose to greet him. He wore only a cloth wrapped round his waist. Rolls of fat partly obscured the belt holding it in place. His head and body were quite hairless. Marcus eyes widened with terror as he took in the contents of the room. Suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps Cassius had no intention of obeying his fathers orders not to harm him. A stout table with scrubbed top and leather straps at each corner occupied the centre of the room, to one side hot coals glowed dully in an iron brazier. Massive chests were set against the walls and above them hung iron bars and pincers together with a variety of heavy whips.

"Sir," the fat man said his voice surprisingly high and girlish, "you have brought me a subject for me to exercise my skills on I hope. I am so pleased. It is pleasant to do work for one who truly enjoys seeing pain. Do you remember the first time you came here. You were hardly ten I think and had stumbled on the place while playing hide and seek with your sister. I was busy and wanted to send you away but you begged me to let you stay and watch and since then you've been a frequent visitor often bringing me boys to practice on."

"It's the brat here," Cassius said indicating Marcus with a waive of his hand, "but I'm afraid there are limitations."

"Limitations," the man sounded disappointed, " a lovely boy it would have been a pleasure to have stretched and broken him on the rack. There's endurance in that small body. He would not have disappointed you like some. He would not have had a quick death. You just want him gelded do you? I'll have them off him in a second. Hold him tight." He picked up a small knife from the table and advanced on Marcus grinning evilly.

"No Asiaticus." Cassius said hastily a note of regret in his speech. "My father says I have to take him to his new master in Britain and he is to be delivered undamaged and entire. But I want to have a bit of fun with him on the way and how can you get the best out of a boy if you can't hurt him?"

"True, pain is the great educator so far as boys of that are concerned." Asiaticus agreed. "But the whip and the branding iron are only some of tools available. He's not to be visibly marked or damaged. I suppose the little brute felt relieved when he heard that. Well we'll put that right now."

The eunuch lifted the lid on one of the chests and rummaged within it. He drew out a small rectangular wooden box. He opened it to reveal six thin steel needles with small wooden heads. He took one out and held it up the lamp light glinting on the fine smooth metal. Marcus catching sight of it whimpered and began to struggle in Vindex's grip.

"Hold the child firm now," the man commanded.

"There's not much spare flesh on him is there," he said running one hand over Marcus ribcage.

He took hold of Marcus's right nipple and squeezed it so it stood out from the lad's body. He rested the point of the needle against it.

"Please Sir. …. No Sir Please…" Marcus pleaded desperately and then screamed as the man thrust the needle through it.

The eunuch withdrew the needle and stood watching as two small beads of blood formed at the points where the metal had pierced the boy's flesh. He bent down and kissed the tiny punctures.

"Provided ," he said straightening up, "the needles are kept clean, you can use them and leave the boy's body unmarked. Now I think the other nipple, just to keep things in balance as it were."

"It's not only the nipples too," he continued once Marcus's screams had abated somewhat. "You can use them on the boy's lips, his scrotum provided you avoid his balls, his cock, pretty well any where you may fancy."

"Excellent that leaves room for the exercise of our imagination," Cassius said laughing "Well I had better go and see that the other arrangements for our journey are in hand."

"Perhaps Sir," the eunuch suggested, " you would care to leave the boy with me until you are ready to set out. Given a little time and with the assistance of Vindex here I'll give the child a schooling he will never forget."

"Good. Vindex bring the brat to my room when the half hours up." As Cassius left the room Marcus was sobbing and pleading for mercy. Cassius swung the cellar door closed. Behind him he heard the boy's whimperings rise into an ear splitting scream.

When half an hour later Marcus was brought to Cassius the boy although unmarked was sobbing wildly and unsteady on his feet.

"You've got the needles have you Vindex?" Cassius asked the slave who was half supporting half holding the trembling boy by one arm. Cassius noticed the child's wrists had been untied earlier presumably to allow some added torment.

"Yes Sir here you are," The man replied holding out the small box with it's cruel contents.

"I wonder," said Cassius flipping back the lid and drawing forth one of the fine needles, "if I should just try my hand with one of these."

"Sir….Please no Sir….I'll do anything Sir …" Marcus twisted away from Vindex's grasp and threw himself on his knees at his tormentor's feet.

"Well I don't know Marculus," Cassius smiled down at the boy grovelling at his feet. "You haven't been a good boy. Hitting me in the face, running away twice and now putting me to all the trouble of travelling to Britain. Perhaps you need just a little more schooling."

"I'm sorry Sir …..I'm sorry … I promise I'll do better in future Sir…" In less than an hour the eunuch had destroyed all boy's pride. He had only one thought now, to avoid the searing pain of the steel needles probing his body.

"Did he use the needle on Marculus's lips Vindex?"

"Yes Sir," the man laughed. "But he screamed the most when he was bent over the table and the man was working on his ring."

"What a delicious idea. Get the brat back on his feet for me."

Vindex moved forward. Marcus through his arms round Cassius's legs crying and pleading.

"Well," Cassius said holding up his hand to stop Vindex, "perhaps you have had enough for the time being. But remember the slightest disobedience …"

"Thank your Master you ungrateful little beast," Vindex shouted kicking Marcus hard in the bum.

"Now Marculus," Cassius said cutting short the boys whimpered thanks, "what you are is a tart and that's what your good at. In the end no doubt you'll have your throat slit in the arena but until then your my whore and you're to look the part."

He clapped his hands and a maid appeared. She lifted Marcus gently onto his feet and lead him away into a corner of the room. Producing a box of cosmetics she set to work. She was quick and it was not long before Marcus was lead back before his master, cheeks rouged, lips reddened, eyes outlined in kohl, nipples gilded.

"Very good," Cassius said looking with a sneer down into the boy's doll like painted face. "That's how I want you to look from now on and you need to wear appropriate clothes as well."

The maid stepped forward again. She fastened a belt of braided gold cloth around Marcus's waste securing it with a clasp in the form of a mans penis. From the belt hung a myriad short golden tassels just long enough to cover the boy's crutch. When he stood still the garment covered his nakedness but the slightest movement sent the tassels swinging giving tantalising glimpses of the more intimate recesses of Marcus's boy's body.

Cassius reached out to fondle the boy. Marcus flinched away.

"Oh dear Marcullus," Cassius said softly but with a hint of excitement in his voice, "you have still so much to learn. You're my slave now, child. I do to you what I want when I want You have no choice."

"Just catch hold of him by his neck and hold his head steady for me Vindex."

Marcus was held firmly from behind, the man's forearm locked across his neck forcing his face upwards. The slaves other arm was wrapped round his waste, pinning his hands to his sides. The boy's eyes widened in terror as they saw the long needle clasped between the finger and thumb of Cassius's right hand. The man pushed his left thumb into Marcus's mouth slipping it behind the boy's lower lip. Smiling he let the child feel the point of the needle. Looking down into the boy's face he saw his eyes roll back in terror. He laughed and increased his pressure on the needle forcing it through the boy's flesh until he felt the point prick his thumb on the inside of the boy's lip.

He held the needle there for a second or two, enjoying the spectacle of the child's suffering before he withdrew it.

"Just to make sure you don't forget Marculus."

He smiled and thrust the needle though the boy's lip for a second time.

Cassius stepped back and regarded the sobbing boy still held in a vice like grip by Vindex. He realised that Marcus's suffering had excited him. It would be amusing he thought to take him fresh from his torment. But time was short and there would be plenty of other opportunities during the days ahead. It would give him something to look forward to. Signalling to Vindex to follow him he walked from the room.

The merchant vessel the "Augusta" nudged gently against her moorings. Cassius followed closely by Marcus made their way down the steeply sloping gang plank to the wooden wharf between whose piles the muddy river sluggishly flowed. The man was warmly clad and walked with his head thrown arrogantly back. The boy was muffled in a cloak but beneath it his feet and legs were bare. His head was bowed and he stumbled slightly as he walked. He was trembling either from the chill of the cold mist that lay heavily on the water or from fear. A short chain was secured to the child's right wrist by a metal bracelet and the man tugged impatiently on this to urge the boy forward. Vindex and Argius s followed them carrying heavy bundles. A fair haired youth appeared from the warehouse at the landward end of the wharf and strolled forward to meet them.

"Welcome Sir," he said bowing to Cassius and smiling, "how can the house of Corax assist you."

"I require three good horses immediately."

"Horses Sir. I am sorry Sir," the youth said sounding not at all regretful, "that is very difficult. The Northern Campaign you know Sir."

"I don't know. What Northern Campaign?" Cassius snapped impatiently.

"The Northern Campaign Sir that the tenth and fourteenth legions are waging in the North Sir." The youth's tone was just the right side of insolent. "All the horse in this part of Britain have been commandeered for it Sir. You may find some in London Sir, but at a price."

"Well send someone to London and to get three horses for us and do it now ."

"I am in sole charge of the warehouse Sir. I am sorry there is no one I can send and I can't leave my post here or I would willingly do so to serve you." The lad made no attempt to hide the insincerity in his voice as he gave this assurance.

"Well I'll have to send one of my slaves then."

"Yes Sir I suppose you could do that. London's three miles [5km] up stream Sir and it will be dark within the hour but you certainly could do that."

"Well what's the alternative then?"

"You can sleep in the warehouse overnight Sir. I have a bed upstairs that you can have Sir if you wish and there is an ale house just up the road where you could send of your slaves to get food. It won't be what you're used to but it will be better than nothing."

Once inside the warehouse Cassius produced a small key from his purse and unlocked the bracelet that secured the chain to Marcus's wrist. At the same time he roughly pulled the cloak off the boy's shoulders. Marcus stood staring miserably at the floor his only clothing the obscene fringe of golden tassels that swung loosely about his hips.

"Where's this bed that I'm to have," Cassius demanded.

"It's up that ladder in the loft Sir."

"In the loft! Oh well I suppose I'll have to put up with it."

"Marculus, you idle little whore, take my bag up there and unpack it and bring the box of needles down here. I can see this is going to be a boring evening and I will need to make my own entertainment." Cassius laughed as his young victim began to snivel uncontrollably.

"Perhaps I should show your boy where things are up there Sir?"

"Yes all right and Vindex, you go up with them just to see my little Marculus doesn't try to run away and leave us without the pleasure of his company again."

The loft was a single windowless room that ran the full length of the warehouse.

"He's not going to be able to get out of here Sir," Vindex called down to Cassius after taking a quick glance around the place from the top of the ladder. "Shall I come back down."

"All right you can go to the alehouse and see what they can do us in the way of food. Remember you're going there to get food not to get drunk."

Once they were well away from the trap door Bestia turned to face Marcus and taking the other boy's hands in his dropped to his feet at his knees.

"What have they been doing to you Sir?" He whispered urgently

Marcus who had known only abuse and ill treatment for weeks burst into tears. He had recognised Bestia as soon as he had seen him on the wharf but he had expected the other boy to forget the one good deed he had done him and to take the opportunity to avenge on him all the many bad things he had inflicted on him. Bestia's gentleness completely upset him.

Bestia got to his feet and put his arms around the sobbing boy and hugged him

"They hurt me Bestia they hurt me so much," was all Marcus was able to say through his tears.

"I know about the beating your father gave you for helping me. I know about your father having to flee to escape treason charges. We slaves hear quite a lot you know. But is there anybody who can help you now? Is there anything I can do for you?"

"They're going to hand me over as a slave to a man called Titus Cornelius and he'll have me killed. His brother Gauis would help if you asked him, but he's living with his uncle Longinus in Southern Gaul near Narbonne."

"I'll find him."

"But Bestia how can you leave here you're a slave. You can't run away. What'll happen to you if you're caught?"

"I'll have to make myself scarce before tomorrow morning anyway," Bestia said with a grin, brushing Marcus's worries to one side, "before that lot down there find there's no shortage of horses and no Northern campaign or anything."

"You made it all up?" Marcus said grinning through his tears.

"Yes. We're meant to make life difficult for your step mother's lot till your father can return and they say that's not too long away."

Now I'll going to go down the ladder first. I'll say I've got to make a tour of the yard and that's the last you'll see of me till I bring your friend Gauis to rescue you. I'll slip aboard the Augusta. She's due to sale for Gaul on the next tide."

As Bestia crept along the wharf he heard clearly a boy scream in pain. There was no proper watch kept on the Augusta and he had no trouble slipping aboard. Later that night when she slipped down stream on the tide on her way back across the channel with Bestia hidden behind some bales of wool in her hold on his way to find Gauis Cornelius not knowing that he when he found Gauis he would recognise the slave boy Pisclus with whom he had shared the miseries of the voyage from Britain to Rome. Nor that Marcus's confidence that Gauis would help him was founded not on Gaius's friendship for himself but on that young boy's gratitude to Bestia himself. Nor that Marcus was destined for the slaughter house of the circus. All facts that Marcus in his terror of his persecutors had not found time to tell him.

Chapter 26

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 cock."

"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.

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 sexual 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 cock 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."

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 fucked 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.

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."

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).

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."

"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.

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 cocked 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.

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.

The End