Warrior Games
Part Two:
“If you toss something away, you cannot take issue with
the one who finds it.”

Rating: NC-17
Warnings:
Summary:
Notes:

Hesperos knew he was beautiful. He knew he was beautiful the way he knew that the sun would rise and the Gods were capricious. He also knew it would not last, and that life for a slave, even a pretty one with skills, was not pleasant or long. Certainly he had been lucky so far, but circumstances could change, and suddenly. He had survived by his wits, and though he was not a cold or cruel man by nature, his circumstances called for a certain amount of calculative behaviour. Atoninn was kind, and wealthy, and was delighted to accept Hesperos’ children as his own. From Atoninn’s point of view, it was the perfect arrangement for himself. He had heirs, who would be legitimate once adopted, a pretty toy for his bed, and did not have to concern himself with marriage, which he was not interested in. Hesperos also was pleased with the arrangement; he and his children would be free, and well off. But there was a catch.

No babies, no freedom. Atoninn was a softie, but he was no Stupidus.

Currently he was getting into his clothes, while Hesperos sat in bed, doing a slow burn. Atoninn brushed his hair, then glanced towards his most beautiful possession. He grinned at the expression on the scribe’s face.

“Now, now, there is no need to look like that. Get packed, we are catching the evening tide to sail to Shalva.”

Hesperos flung back the covers and got out of bed, and Atoninn paused to look at him as he made his way to the bathing chamber, naked, his skin the colour of Egyptian gold. Hesperos, the Evening Star, whom the Gods named Beauty, stepped away lightly, his perfect nose quite out of joint. Atoninn grinned.

“That will teach you to make me chase you,” he muttered. Then he called; “Darith! Have you brought my breakfast yet?”

Darith walked into his master’s bedchamber, carrying a tray, and chewing. Atoninn sighed.

“Darith…”

“Breakfast is excellent this morning, Master.”

“So glad to hear it. You know, one day I really will flog you.”

“Of course, Master. I have all your things packed and ready for the journey. I see Beauty is in an uncommonly foul mood.”

“Our Beauty is no fool. I dare say the only thing greater than his loveliness is his calculating intellect.”

“I do not care for the sound of that. You do not think he is dangerous, do you?”

Atoninn thought, then finally said, “No. I do not think he is dangerous. I think he is deeply concerned that he obtains his freedom and status before he is fat and bearded, and his sons have been made into eunuchs and sold to some disreputable person. He is certainly working to a goal, but I have seen nothing that makes me think his ambitions would lend themselves to anything foul.”

“Well if he gets out of hand, you can give him to me,” said Darith.

Atoninn laughed. “Well that would certainly show him. And you of course would, out of a sense of duty, take him to your bed and force yourself to make love to him.”

“A difficult task, I know. But for you I would sacrifice myself in such a manner.”

Atoninn grinned. “You’re a good man, Darith. But as a good Master, I cannot allow you to undertake such a dangerous and tedious task. I will just have to make love to him myself.”

“You are a brave and noble man, Master.” He looked around, checking to ensure he had packed all his Master would require for the trip, then asked; “Do I pack for the Beauty too?”

“Yes, Darith. He is coming as well.”

“Hmph. I just thought since he is a slave he could pack his own damn bag.”

“Careful, Darith. If he keeps his end of the bargain, I have every intention of keeping mine. He gives me heirs, and I give him the position and status he would hold as lady of the house.”

“I should think the lady of the house would have bigger…”

Atoninn made a small sharp noise that told Darith he was pushing his luck. He held his tongue and packed, but could not help noticing his Master was still amused by the remark. Moments later Hesperos strolled in, naked, lithe, muscled like a fine dancer. His curling hair hung damp and loose around his shoulders, and fine beads of water clung to him. He strutted passed a mosaic of Venus, standing upon the beach. Both Darith and Atoninn watched him pass, then exchanged glances. Darith could not resist.

“Master I believe the lady of the house failed to mention her anatomical abnormalities to you prior to marriage.”

“Darith…”

“Yes Master, I shall take myself out and have myself flogged forthwith.”

“And while you are doing that, make sure Lion is ready to go.”

Atoninn could almost hear Darith’s hackles go up, but all he said was “Yes Master,” and departed to make certain the huge warrior was getting ready for their journey. He watched him go, feeling sympathy for him, but there was naught he could do. If Lion was not interested in Darith, then that was the will of the Gods, and he would have to accept it.

***---***

They reached the ship in good time. Atoninn traveled a great deal between the islands in his quest for new fighters, and had purchased his own ship to spare himself the discomfort of booking passage on the great merchant ships. It was a converted single mast private vessel, with a deck fitted on above the galley area where the sailors rowed, and a small bow mast. The galley had a sleeping area for the sailors and newly acquired fighters, and the upper deck held a cabin for Atoninn and his personal attendants. It was far more comfortable than the merchant vessels, and preferable to sleeping on the deck of one like an animal. Atoninn had named the little ship Africus, after the god of the Southwest wind, and the main sail bore a swirling image, meant to convey the image of a good warm gust.

Atoninn had other reasons as well for wishing to take his own vessel, and as he led Hesperos onto the deck, several of the sailors made appreciative whistles and crude comments. Here, at least, he knew he could keep Hesperos relatively safe; his sailors were loyal and well treated, with a healthy respect for Lion. On a large ship, with an equally large crew, his pretty scribe could be easily kidnapped and raped.

He paused, looking around at the crowd of sailors, twelve men in all, eight of them burly rowers, all far more interested in Hesperos than anything else. Atoninn glanced at his scribe, whose dark eyes were large and nervous. Atoninn did not doubt that Hesperos had been subjected to more than his fair share of forced couplings; a slave with his sort of beauty likely had not remained long a virgin. Atoninn did not think one of his crew would dare to rape Hesperos, but they were probably not above cornering him for a little titillation. Atoninn decided to nip such antics in the bud. He gently led Hesperos forward, letting the men get a good look at him, listening to the appreciative sounds they made.

“This is my scribe,” said Atoninn. He smiled. “Look at him, and tell me he is not the work of Venus herself! Only she could have made something so lovely.”

The sailors agreed loudly and heartily. Hesperos gave Atoninn a look that told him he was thankful for the wording of the compliment; the last thing he needed was to be called more fair that the goddess of love and beauty, and to incur her wrath. Atoninn suspected Hesperos was most curious as to where this was leading.

“I shall make you good men a deal,” he said, smiling as he suddenly had the attention of every man on the boat. “It is a two day row to Shalva. If my scribe reaches Shalva, utterly untouched by anyone save myself, I shall double your pay. However, should he be grabbed, groped, kissed, or molested in any way, you shall get half pay and the name of the man who cost you your earnings, so that you may thank him personally.”

The sailors agreed to the bargain, and set about their duties. They still looked at Hesperos, but at least now they were unlikely to make advances towards him. Hesperos smiled at Atoninn, and mouthed the words; “Thank you.”

Atoninn smiled, and gently kissed him. “You will be safe now,” he said.

Lion stepped on deck, and Atoninn left Hesperos in his care before walking away to check all was in order. He was unaware of the look on Hesperos’ face as the slave watched after him, touched that his master would care about his safety. During his brief time with Augustus, he had frequently been offered up as part of the hospitality of the house. Atoninn, however, had given his word that Hesperos would be treated with respect and kindness. It seemed he was telling the truth.

Lion took Hesperos and gently guided him to the small cabin, while the sun began to set. Then, as the tide at last reached its peak, the small ship set forth, lanterns casting a soft glow upon the water.

***---***

The evening was warm and fair. Hesperos took advantage of the quiet to lounge on the bed and rest. Aches and pains plagued him often, and though he was not old, he had been worked hard in his younger days, when he had been a scrawny, scraggly boy. He had not been trained in the more refined capacity of scribe until he began to transform into the glorious beauty he was now, and his bones recalled too well the endless days of lugging water for the kitchens, wood for the stove, and sand for the stables. Some days he was so crippled with pain it was a wonder he could get out of bed, but he did. His bones may have recalled the crippling labour, but his mind recalled the beatings he would get if he did not get up.

Hesperos dozed, relishing the chance to do so at his leisure. His first master had been very hard on him, but once he realized the skinny half-Egyptian boy was going to be a rare prize, he trained him, and made up a false history for him. Then he sold him for twelve times his actual worth. It was another reason Hesperos was so anxious to build a life for himself while he still had his grace and beauty. In but a few years, he would likely be bent and bed-ridden, and Atoninn would probably be rid of him. But he could at least use what talents he still had to secure a future for his children.

He rolled over, pulling the blankets with him, snuggling into the mattress with a sigh of contentment. A soft bed, good blankets, clean clothes, and a warm fire. It was a wonderful change from a dank, dark little room beneath the house, crowded in with other servants, breathing the stink of many over-worked bodies, and shivering in the cold. He would enjoy it while he could.

He raised his head, thinking he heard Atoninn coming to the door. But no, it was only Lion patrolling the ship. He lowered his head, closing his eyes and reminded himself not to get too attached to any master, not even a kind one. Once his bones gave way, and his beauty faded, he would be back in the basement again, or sold. He was property, not a lover. He had to keep his emotions to himself.

Still… it was nice. Even if it was only for a little while.

***---***

Atoninn stood beside the captain, watching the weather change. Both men were uneasy as they scented the shifting air, and felt the water transform from a gentle sea to threatening swells.

“Should we turn back?” asked Atoninn.

The older man shook his head. “Even if we did, we would never reach Icaria in time. We will stay the course. There is a tiny dot of land ahead, not much more than a half-mile strip of sand and grass. We will drop anchor there.” The captain scowled thoughtfully at the weather. “I don’t think it’s going to be a big storm. The time of the year is wrong.”

Atoninn nodded, though he did not feel any easier about the brewing storm. He was about to go back and check on Hesperos, when suddenly the ship slammed into something with a horrific crash, the entire vessel jolting to a halt. There came a scream of tortured metal, and the groaning and splintering of timbers. Atoninn was flung to the deck, landing hard, and lay, stunned. He felt Darith come to his aid, helping him up.

“What was that?” Darith shouted. “These waters are supposed to be safe at this point!”

The captain shook his head. “I do not know! There is no reef here, or there is not supposed to be!”

The small vessel lurched, and broke free from whatever it had struck. Then something swatted it, sending the ship spinning. There was an enraged howl of some massive beast, and a great head with blazing yellow eyes rose from the water, rising higher and higher, until it was taller than the mast. In the darkness of the building storm, it was difficult to see exactly how it looked, but the eyes blazed like yellow suns in the darkness. A second head rose up to join the first, and as more of the animal came into view, they could see huge, double rows of spines trailing down the slick, fish-like back. The thing screamed at the sailors that had dared to ram it in its slumber.

Darith did not linger. He grabbed his master and dragged the injured man to the cabin, hauling him inside and dropping him onto the bed and bolting the door. Hesperos was sitting up, looking frightened.

“It’s a hydra!” said Darith in response to the unasked question. “Captain Odysseus out there hit a hydra!”

Atoninn slowly sat up, holding his head, noticing there was blood running from his scalp. “Darith there is no need for insults.”

“HE HIT A BLOODY SEA MONSTER!”

Atoninn sighed, conceding the man had a point. He looked to Hesperos. “Are you all right?”

Hesperos was terrified, and was shaking visibly. Atoninn pulled him close, offering him comfort, but was thrown off the bed as the ship was struck a violent blow. That was when Darith seemed to notice their little group was a man short.

“Lion!” he exclaimed. He opened the door, and was met by a great wash of seawater. “The ship is sinking!”

“We have to abandon the ship,” said Atoninn. “There is land nearby, we should make it.”

“But… Lion…”

Atoninn had little time to offer comfort to his favorite slave. “Lion is a big boy, he will be fine.”

“But…”

Atoninn grabbed Hesperos by one fine wrist, and took Darith by the other. “Do you wish to prove your love by leaping down a hydra’s throat?”

The ship took another resounding hit, and smashed like kindling. The debate was over, and they were flung into the ocean amidst timbers, provisions and other debris. Atoninn struggled to the surface, grabbing hold of a timber. It was large enough to support his weight, and he clambered onto it, hoping to be mistaken for something inedible by the hydra. He looked around, but saw no sign of the beast, his crew, or his slaves.

“Hesperos!” he cried. “Darith! Lion!”

Darith surfaced, sputtering. He clumsily paddled his way to his master, and was helped onto the timber. He looked around, and heaved a sigh of relief as he saw Lion not far away, clinging to another timber. The waters were calming, and the captain’s prediction came true as the threatening storm turned to little more than a summer rain. Atoninn looked around, and called “Hesperos?”

The trio looked around, but saw nothing moving in the darkness. “Hesperos! Lion, do you see him?”

“No, I see nothing.”

Atoninn stood up on the timber. “Hesperos! Hesperos give me a sign you are alive!”

They listened, but heard nothing other than the wash of waves, and the soft sound of falling rain.

***---***

Morning came, finding the three sitting on timbers, floating about like three gulls on a log. They had managed to lash three of the larger bits of ship together to form something of a raft, and bobbed about in irritated silence. Occasionally they spotted something in the water, but were unsure as to whether it was a shark or the hydra. Either way, it discouraged any thoughts they had about one of them attempting to swim off in an effort to find land.

Atoninn had long lived by his luck, but even he was astonished when, late in the morning, he saw a small pleasure boat approach, the garish sail, boasting sea nymphs, proclaiming it to be an old friend. He gaped, unable to believe what he was seeing, then stood up on the raft and waved his arms. He laughed, and called out; “Anibal! Have you room for three more?”

“I don’t pick up trash, I toss it!” Anibal leaned over the side of his yacht, flanked by the most bored-looking and unattractive catamite Atoninn had ever seen. Anibal surveyed the mess of debris. “I see you have been chasing war ships with your pleasure boat again.”

“A hydra, actually.”

“Ah, hydras. Disagreeable beasts. No sense of humour.” Anibal sighed heavily. “Well I suppose I should pick you up, I might miss you if you died.”

“Your generosity knows no bounds.”

Anibal had a rope ladder lowered, and Atoninn climbed up, followed by Lion, and lastly Darith. Anibal greeted his friend, then, as Darith climbed onto the boat, damp and salty, Anibal grabbed him and drew him into an embrace, touching him.

“And you still have this little gem! Let me borrow him for an hour or so, I promise not to damage him. You may have Endre.”

Atoninn looked at the bored and rather ugly catamite. He could think of fish he would rather lay with. “Thank you, no.” He glanced at Darith to see how he was responding to the groping, and noted wryly that Darith did not seem to be too terribly distressed by the situation. “Well, it is the least I can do for you saving my life. But don’t break him, he’s the only one who knows where the key to the wine cellar is kept.”

Anibal laughed, and slung Darith over his shoulder. He ordered food, wine, and dry clothes to be brought for his guests, then carried Darith off to his cabin. As the door slammed, Atoninn heard Lion growl.

“Did you have to let him do that?”

Atoninn looked at his friend, blinking. “I see no harm. Darith does not seem to object, and Anibal will not mistreat him.” Then he smiled slightly. “And it is not as though you care for him.”

Lion muttered angrily, and changed the subject. “What do we do now?”

“There is a sand bar not far from here,” said Atoninn. “With luck, Hesperos made his way there. If not, then….” He paused, not wishing to utter the next words. He thought of his Beauty, and of the emotions he had for him. He did not deny that his initial feelings towards him had been wanton lust, but he was now finding other sentiments for him as well. He was touched by the quiet way he bore his pain, and the genuine deep concern he had for his missing children. Lately, Atoninn was finding want and ownership were being replaced by caring and affection. He offered a silent prayer to the Gods that Hesperos was well.

He drew a deep breath. “If Hesperos is not on the sand bar, then he is… no more. We will press on to Shalva and claim his children from Augustus.”

Lion nodded. He accepted the dry clothes he was brought, then looked towards the cabin, scowling angrily, nostrils flared as he heard Darith laugh. Atoninn patted him on the shoulder.

“If you toss something away, my friend, you cannot take issue with the one who finds it.”

Lion snorted, but said nothing.

***---***

Anibal’s ship took them to the sandbar, and Atoninn leapt off the bow and into the shallow crystal water. He ran onto the narrow strip of land, looking around. He heard Lion come to stand beside him, and both began searching for any signs of Hesperos. It was Lion who first noticed the amphora in the sand, next to the pile of clamshells. But it was Atoninn who noticed more ominous signs: a pair of sandaled feet, fleeing bare ones, and the deep scrape of a small ship-to-shore boat being pushed across the sea grass.

“It seems he was here,” said Lion.

Atoninn looked up and down the beach, seeing nothing. “Hesperos!” he called, and listened, hearing only waves and gulls. “Hesperos!”

Anibal hopped off his ship and came to stand by his friend. “I see no one,” he said.

“Hesperos was here,” said Atoninn, “look! He has been taken.”

“There is only one place close enough to take him to,” said Anibal. “And that is Shalva. Come, back into the boat. We will make haste to the nearest Shalvan port.”

They returned to the ship, and the rowers began moving the craft towards Shalva. The wind picked up, catching the sails, and the sleek little vessel gathered speed, guided by the old but wise helmsman. Atoninn felt his friend put an arm about his shoulder.

“Well will find him,” Anibal said, though he was unsure if he spoke the truth.

Atoninn felt a sick knot in the pit of his stomach. “What could have happened to him?”

***---***

Hesperos coughed, and raised his head, his long hair matted with seaweed and sand. He looked around, finding himself on a narrow strip of grassy beach. Overhead, the sky was grey, and the air was cold. He dragged himself out of the shallow water and onto the sand, shaking, and in great pain. He was scraped and bloody, and his bones were complaining loudly, but he thought he was probably all right.

He heard a strange noise, like a horse, but higher pitched. He glanced around, and saw the animal stranded on the sand bar. The upper portion did indeed look like a horse, though it was covered in silvery scales, and the mane was of filmy, translucent matter that sparkled wetly. The lower half, from the belly down, formed into a long, elegant tail, shark-like, and also silvery. The entire animal had fine, black stripes, perhaps to help it blend in with the kelp forests. It had gills as well as nostrils, and they were filling with clumps of sand. Plainly the beast was suffering. It could not get its weight off the sand bar, and was dying a slow, miserable death.

Hesperos approached the hippocampus, noting that it seemed to be a mare, uncertain what to do with the beast. It was possible Poseidon would reward one who helped such a creature. It was equally possible the animal was some woman transformed and left to die as a punishment, and Poseidon would be enraged at any who dared to aid her. He paused, watching the beautiful creature raise her head, making plaintive, dolphin-like sounds of agony. Unable to bear it, Hesperos came to the hippocampus, kneeling beside her, stroking the delicate head. He could not haul her into the ocean, but he could make her more comfortable.

He looked around, finally locating a piece of ship’s debris he could use as a scoop. He filled it with seawater, and began cleaning the grit out of the delicate gills, and the soulful, seal-like eyes. Once the animal seemed less distressed, he began to dig around her, scooping out a depression beneath her large body. The task took hours, but at last the hippocampus was able to roll onto her belly with a sigh of relief. Hesperos once more ran water over her, cleaning her, dampening the glossy scales. The hippocampus shook her head, plainly feeling much better. Once the tide came in, she would likely be able to use her equine forelegs to pull herself off the bar and into the sea, where she belonged.

He smiled, and stroked the animal’s head. She seemed tame and unafraid, though a little weak. The hippocampus stretched her neck, trying to reach a bit of seaweed. Hesperos picked it up and rinsed it off, giving it to the large, graceful animal. He went to find her more, heaping the greens before her in a slimy feast, one which seemed to delight the hippocampus to no end. Hesperos sat with the animal, watching her eat. Hours passed, and the tide slowly came in. Finally, the hippocampus was able to turn around, using her tail and forelegs to pull herself off the sand bar and into the sea. Without so much as a backwards glance, the beautiful animal was gone.

Hesperos sat alone on the sand, shivering with cold, his joints burning him. He had saved the hippocampus, now he could only hope someone would return the favour, before thirst and starvation claimed him.

The sun had come out, and at first it was a blessing, but the heat was making him thirsty, and there was no shade or water. The salt dried on his skin, and crusted onto his khiton and sandals, making him uncomfortable. He wondered if Atoninn was looking for him, or if he had simply assumed him lost to the hydra, and he would be left to wither and die on this wretched half-mile slip of sand and grass.

He got to his feet and scanned the horizon for ships, but saw only white-capped waves, and a few gulls. He briefly thought he saw the hippocampus, but suspected the beautiful animal had made for deeper water. His belly rumbled, and he began scanning the beach for anything edible. He was fortunate; he found a few shellfish and some provisions, but more importantly he located a sealed amphora of fresh water. He opened it and drank deeply, his body absorbing the moisture gratefully. Sealing it once more, he carefully set it in the sand, taking great care to ensure it would not tip over. Then he began opening clams with a broken bit of metal he pried from a piece of ship. He would be okay for a little while. He hoped Atoninn came soon.

He feasted on clams, making neat heaps of their shells. Then he drank more water. At last he curled up on the grass, closing his eyes, letting the sun warm his aching joints. He dozed for a while. He was not sure how long, but was awakened suddenly by the sound of a bow running onto the beach. He sat up and looked, hoping to see Atoninn, but it was not his kind master he saw.

He leapt to his feet, staring back nervously at the men: six in all. They were dressed as seafarers, and their tanned, leathery skin spoke of many years on the water. Hesperos did not know if they were traders or pirates, and cared less. He backed up a step, his instincts telling him this was not a good situation.

The largest of the men stepped forward, looking over the rare prize he had found, just lying on a beach. He grinned. “Well, well, the Gods are feeling generous today.” He looked to his men. “Catch him and hold him, I’m first.”

Hesperos turned and fled. There was no thought in the motion, only gut instinct to escape. He had been violated before, and the memory of the horror, humiliation and agony was more than motive enough to escape. He heard them laugh; wondering where he thought he was going, as there was no escape on the sand bar. They were unprepared to see him flee straight into the ocean. Worse, he had dove into the water on the opposite side of the reef, which would force them to push their boat across the strip of land if they meant to pursue him. Their leader swore.

“After him!”

The men began shoving the boat across the sand, but by the time they got it back into the water and began to row, he was well ahead of them. He did not know if he could continue to out pace them, but was determined to try. However, his khiton was slowing him, and he was already weary. He quickly went from swimming to floundering, and as he heard the boat gaining on him, he tried to scream. No sound escaped his throat, and no aid would come before they had already raped and battered him. He made up his mind to drown. Exhaling every drop of air in his lungs, Hesperos sank.

A hand grabbed his hair, and he was yanked above water. He spun and bit like a wild thing, forcing the man to drop him. He gasped and dove again, heading for the reef beneath him.

A sailor dove after him, and Hesperos felt himself grabbed from behind, and dragged to the surface. He was thrown, soaked and struggling, into the boat, and immediately felt hands all over him, shredding his khiton. The one who appeared to be in charge punched him several times, and Hesperos dropped, stunned, blood flowing from his split lips. Defenseless, he could do nothing as he felt the man throw him onto the prow of the boat and begin trying to roughly penetrate him.

Then the world turned over, and Hesperos was in the water again. Something large and slick came up beneath him, and his fogged mind told him to hang on. He wrapped his arms around the long neck, and he surfaced, realizing he was seated on a huge, horse-like being. He pressed his face against the silver-blue scales.

The hippocampus mare snorted at the six men in the water, shaking her head, offering horsy insults. Then she turned and began moving away, carrying the injured man with her, leaving the six sailors to wonder what great crime they had just wrought against the Sea God in attacking what was likely either a sea nymph or siren. They righted their boat and hastened back to their ship to make the appropriate sacrifices.

***---***

Atoninn stood on the boat, staring ahead, willing the shores of Shalva to appear. Lion stood beside him, both silent, waiting for the craft to take them to their destination.

Lion’s attention snapped towards the small cabin, where Anibal was currently hidden away with Darith, his large body trying to contain his ire, wanting to go in there and take Darith out. Anibal had “borrowed” Darith twice now, and this second time was taking far too long.

He moved away from Atoninn, strolling passed the cabin, pausing as he noticed a small crack in the wood where he could see inside without being obvious. He paused, pretending to look out over the ocean, his eyes on the pair in the cabin.

Darith was naked, his slim body coated in olive oil, and he was on his knees on the bed, Anibal before him. They were embracing, kissing, their hands running over one another and leaving smears in the oil, gleaming in the light of the lamp. Anibal was thrusting slowly, his penis between Darith’s thighs.

Lion felt anger clutch his heart. Perhaps if Darith was merely servicing Anibal, it would not be so bad. But this was not ‘servicing’. This was lovemaking. Anibal was not a frequent visitor to Atoninn’s villa, but when he did come, he usually spent a few days, and he often spent his nights with Darith. Lion had, for the most part, thought little about it, but this glimpse of the two of them together concerned him. Anibal plainly cared a great deal for Darith.

Anibal’s hands slid down Darith’s body, resting on his hips briefly before sliding onto his buttocks, slowly squeezing them, pulling him closer, thrusting harder. Darith gasped, slipping his arms around the other man’s shoulders. Anibal held him more closely, his fingers slipping between Darith’s cheeks, exploring him, gently prodding, and then slipping one inside of him, slowly moving in and out. Another finger pushed in, and Darith let his head fall back, eyes closed, lips parted in pleasure and passion.

The two lovers changed position, saying nothing, Darith lying down on his back. Anibal positioned himself over him, lifting his hips and sliding into him with a groan of pleasure. Darith uttered a short gasp, then drew Anibal down on top of himself. Anibal slowly thrust, holding Darith, running his hands over his shoulders, kissing his neck, his shoulders, his lips. Darith wrapped his arms around Anibal’s neck, returning the kisses, drawing his legs up to let the man enter him more deeply. Then he heard a soft, barely whispered interaction, one that nearly cut him in two.

“I love you, Darith.”

“I love you too. I’ve missed you.”

“I know, I am sorry to have been gone so long. But I am going to speak to Atoninn this eve. With luck, we shall not be parted again.”

“No. Let’s not part.” He groaned, and then made a soft gasp. “Anibal….”

Anibal shifted the pace of his lovemaking, and Darith cried out, writhing in pleasure, then uttered a sharp cry as pleasure overwhelmed him and he reached his climax. Lion walked away, angry with himself and the world in general. He returned to Atoninn’s side, and was relieved to see the faint outline of Shalva in the distance.

***---***

Atoninn stepped off the ship and looked around, as though he expected to see Hesperos awaiting him. Anibal followed him off the ship, Darith beside him, Lion trailing behind. Endre plodded off last, bored and sullen. Atoninn watched the portly and unattractive catamite.

“Where did you get him?”

Anibal looked at Endre. “In a dice game.”

“You WON that?!”

“No, I lost, I had to take him.”

“Yeesh.” Atoninn looked around. “If Hesperos has been taken, he would likely be in the slave compound.” He looked at Darith. “Arrange for transportation, and to have our baggage taken off the ship, then meet us by the compound. And mind yourself; the Shalvans are less amused by uppity slaves than I am.” He looked towards Lion. “Stay and keep an eye on our belongings while Darith is getting horses, then come with him to the compound.”

Lion nodded, and stepped off the ship, scattering sailors and dockworkers as he took up his place at the foot of the gangplank. Atoninn and Anibal began making their way to the nearby slave compound, walking swiftly passed moored ships, ignoring the smell of livestock, sweating bodies and oiled wood. They had not gone far, when Atoninn felt his friend take his arm.

“I have a matter I wish to discuss with you.”

Atoninn wanted little more than to find his Beauty, before something horrible happened to him, assuming it had not already. “What is it, Anibal?”

“It is in regards to Darith.”

“What about him? Did he eat your lunch?”

“I would like to buy him from you. I have… become fond of him.”

Atoninn grinned. “I’m rather fond of him myself. I can’t think how many times his habit of nibbling my breakfast has saved me from possible poisonings.”

“I love him.”

Atoninn stopped short, looking in surprise at his friend. The two men regarded each other, and then Atoninn nodded. “I understand. I find I have become uncommonly attached to a slave myself recently. And there is no doubt Darith brightens when you are about. Very well, when we reach your villa, we shall set a reasonable price for him. But I cannot sell him cheap. He has more talents than eating my breakfast and pleasuring you.”

“I understand. I believe I have a slave with similar talents. We can negotiate.”

Atoninn nodded. By now they had reached the small building that made up the slave warehouse, and both men recognized the burly, hairy man in charge of the stored slaves. His name was Cenon, and had sold Atoninn many good slaves. He raised his whip in greeting.

“Welcome my lords! We’ve a fresh batch, some very fine lads fit for the pits.”

“I have lost a slave,” said Atoninn. “I’m hoping you have him.”

“Ah. Run away?”

Atoninn shook his head. “Washed overboard. I have reason to believe he made his way to the sandbar, then was captured.”

“Well, I will show you what I have,” said Cenon. He led Atoninn and Anibal into the structure, their sandaled feet kicking up small clouds of chalk. “What is he? Fighter?”

“Scribe. Very delicate, with golden skin, and curling black hair far down his back. He is half Egyptian, and mute. His name is Hesperos.”

Cenon scowled in thought. “I’ve nothing like that, I’m sure.”

“It is very important that he is returned to me,” said Atoninn. “If he turns up in your warehouse, let me know. I will be staying with Anibal. I will see you are rewarded.”

Cenon grinned. “If I find him I’ll be sure you get him, now that I know he’s yours. Sounds like a real beauty. Most of the pretty ones end up with Augustus.”

Atoninn froze with horror, realizing Cenon was right. Augustus had a standing arrangement with Cenon to be alerted to any slaves of rare beauty. “Cenon, it is most important Augustus not get his hands on Hesperos. I will make it well worth your while.”

Cenon nodded. “If he’s yours then he’s yours. I’m not so fond of Augustus I’ll break the law for him. Any of these belong to you?”

Atoninn looked over the slaves, scrutinizing each one. But finally he shook his head. “No. He’s not here.” He felt fear and grief clutch his heart, and he gasped, trying to fight back tears as the understanding he may have lost his Beauty forever suddenly overwhelmed him. He reached out for Anibal, clutching his friend’s arm.

“Anibal, what if he’s gone?”

Anibal put an arm around his friend, steadying him. “We will keep looking. Come, you are weary from your ordeal. I will take you to my Villa.”

“First we must notify the authorities. If someone has my Hesperos then I will seek this thief out and take back what is mine!”

“We will find him, Atoninn,” said Anibal. “Come, we will notify the authorities, then I shall take you to my home. If Hesperos is anywhere on Shalva, we will find him.”

***---***

The hippocampus took Hesperos as close to shore as she dared, using her powerful forelegs and tail to push herself as far onto the sand as she could without beaching herself once more. She watched as Hesperos slipped from her back, then crawled onto the dry, warm sand. He lay like a dead thing, plainly injured from the blows the sailor had inflicted on him.

The hippocampus backed into further into the surf, keeping her skin wet in the white tipped waves. She made a soft noise of concern, watching as a small handful of men came down the beach, knowing she could not help her friend if they wished to hurt him. But they did not seem intent on violence. One of the men, a very large blond, picked Hesperos up, and began carrying him away. She hoped she had done the right thing, and her friend would be safe. She watched until the men were out of sight, then dragged her body back into the surf. She dove into the crystal sea, rolling and banking like a dolphin, heading for the kelp forests. She did not see Hesperos open his eyes and raise his head to stare blearily at the handsome blonde who carried him, nor did she see his dark eyes open wide in horror and fear.

“Well, well,” said Augustus quietly. “Look what the tide washed in.”

Disclaimer:

All original fiction and the characters, places and situations with them are copyright Alyx Shaw, and may not be published, copied, distributed or archived without the author's prior written consent.

The characters, places and situations described in these stories are fictional unless otherwise stated in the story headings.

(C) 2008 Alyx Shaw