This is a fictional story. The characters and events described herein are fictitious. The story and its contents are the sole property of the author. It has been posted on the Nifty Story Archives page with the permission of the author. If you are offended by sex or sexual acts between two consenting males, or by a relationship between an older man and a significantly younger one please do not read any further. For the rest of you who don't need this read on and enjoy. Let me know what you think.
Copyright 2006
Author's note: Yes, I realize it's been almost 2 years since I last updated this. I am sorry to leave the story hanging for so long. But if I still have anyone's attention then the story is not finished yet. Unfortunately I cannot guaranty that updates will be regular but I will try my best.
Chapter X
The air hissed above his head from the force of the swing as Baraethius dropped to the ground just narrowly in time for it to miss. His opponent was decent, the man knew which end of the sword to swing, but that stroke had left his side wide open. Baraethius could hardly let the opportunity pass him by. Driving himself up from the ground with his legs Baraethius brought his sword up in a calculated arc. The `blade' bit into his opponent's flank and the younger man grunted. Had this been an actual match the other man would have been well on his way to his death. But since the swords were wooden and this was only practice the man would live to see his next meal at the very least. Though he would have a nasty bruise in his side for the next week.
Baraethius pressed his attack. He reversed the direction of his swing and spun, bringing to bare his wooden blade to the man's other side. His opponent brought his sword up in time to block the strike, but the margin had been narrow.
The other man swung again, retaliating out of desperation and panic, it was a mistake. Baraethius knocked the blow aside almost lazily, his opponent losing his grip on his sword. Baraethius struck the man's knee in a leisurely fashion. The man cried out and dropped to the ground kneeling. Baraethius brought his sword around in a powerful swing aimed at the man's neck. His opponent braced himself for a blow that never fell. The man opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to see what had happened. The `sword' was a mere inch from his neck; Baraethius had pulled his swing just before impact.
The sound of applause echoed across the training yard as the other man pushed himself to his feet wearily, the dust from the hard packed earth clinging to the sweat on his skin. Overhead the sun beat down mercilessly, the heat of summer having finally arrived. The sound of clapping continued, other similar sparing matches being brought to a halt and all eyes in the training yard turning to them and the sound of the applause.
"As always, an excellent example of martial ability," the man stepped towards Baraethius and his defeated opponent. The man was squat and gnarled. Thick arms and a thicker chest and neck were attached to a head that was completely clean shaven save for the eyebrows. The sun reflected harshly off the man's pate and his eyes were a solid brown. The man's skin was weathered and leathery; scars decorated this man's body as sand on a shoreline. In fact the man always seemed reminiscent, at least to Baraethius, of a sea cliff. Beaten and weathered, but unyielding in an absolute way. His middle was becoming soft with age and the skin on his face had begun to sag, lines creating deep trenches across his features. Those lines must surely get deeper every year, just as surely as the ocean that beats against the cliff crafts and creates the features of the rocks.
This man was the head trainer for all the new gladiators who would fight in the Coliseum. Warden and taskmaster both, the man gave no name by which they might call him, he was simply addressed as `master'. The man strode over to Baraethius and stopped in front of him with a disappointed and expression on his face.
"Now," the warden addressed Baraethius looking directly into his eyes. Baraethius averted his gaze begrudgingly, to do otherwise would have been seen as insolence on his part. "Tell me, slave, why did you not finish this man off when you had the chance?" He spoke loudly enough for the rest of the yard to hear him. Apparently Baraethius was to be an object lesson for the rest of the new gladiators.
"I made the killing blow," Baraethius said by rote almost, "had this been an actual fight and not just sparing this man would be dead."
"No, you didn't" the warden hissed. "I saw you make a blow that would have taken this man's head from his shoulders had your blade actually bitten flesh. But you stopped your blade short."
"This is training, not the Arena," Baraethius responded. He turned to meet the man's eyes, more from force of habit that a desire to be insolent, "I saw no need to..." he was cut off as the warden backhanded him with a meaty fist.
"You dare raise your eyes to me?!" The warden roared, "I am your master! You do not meet my eyes as though you were my equal, slave!" Spittle flew from the man's lips and Baraethius couldn't help but notice that a number of the man's teeth were missing.
"Well?" The warden asked in a dangerous tone, "I asked you a question, you will answer me!"
"Forgive my impertinence, master," Baraethius said through gritted teeth, it was difficult to keep the venom from his voice. "But as I was saying before, this is practice, not the Arena. I saw no need to humiliate this man further and rob the audience of another contender to fight for their entertainment."
Baraethius kept his eyes averted in a gesture of humility and submission. But the act was hollow and it showed, the set of his shoulders too resolute and the stance in which he stood bespoke defiance.
"Bah," the warden spat on Baraethius, who made no move to wipe the fluid running down his chest away. "You are a fool on top of being a traitor, though I suppose the two must go hand and hand. Your sentiment will get you killed. There is no mercy in the Coliseum, save the whim of the crowd. And that is a mercy as fickle as the tides at best, not to be trusted nor counted on. Any man you might kill or wound to the point that he will be unable to face you in the Arena is one less opponent that could very well kill you.
"This goes for every one of you as well," the warden turned addressing the rest of the yard. "You see an opening, you will take it, you will hit with all the strength you can muster, or you will spar with me personally. And I can assure you, you will find no mercy form me. Furthermore, any man that mercy is given to will receive fifteen lashes.
"Now get out of my sight, all of you." With that the warden turned and stalked away. The rest of the gladiators-to-be dispersed and made their way to the mess hall.
Baraethius turned to his fallen opponent, who was slowly making his way to his feet. Baraethius strode over to the man and without hesitation pulled him up to his feet by his arm.
"Ge'r off!" The man said, angrily jerking his arm away. "Case'n you didn' hear I'll tells ya this, my fair's bad nough wi'out yer makin' it worse. Is foul nough luck I ended up in `ere I don' need extra lashin's piled up on tha'. So save yer pity an' save yer mercy!"
With that the young man turned away, following the rest of the gladiators to their midday meals. Baraethius was left alone in the training yard save for the guards posted at the entrance. Baraethius stood for a moment with his eyes closed, he pictured the boy whom he had spared being taken by the commander, tried to remember the exact look on the young man's face. It helped, sometimes, to remember the gratitude in the young man's eyes. Baraethius did not know what other horrors the young man had been through, it had been apparent from his eyes that he had already seen too much. But the knowledge that Baraethius had kept this from that boy comforted him at least in some small measure.
Baraethius took in a deep breath and held it for a few moments. Gods but this was hard. Body, spirit and mind, he just wanted to give up. To have been executed as a traitor would have been so much easier than this humiliation.
Baraethius chastised himself for his momentary weakness. He had to be strong to get through this, if only to spite Remeaus. But there was also Ithukas to think about. Baraethius knew that he had to endure, that all things must pass in time.
Baraethius let out the breath that he had been holding and looked down at the practice sword in his hand. A thought occurred to him, a momentary whim and he decided to indulge it. He walked to the center of the training yard, consciously aware of the guards' eyes on him but not really caring. What more dignity did he really have to lose? He closed his eyes and then slowed his breathing till it was a conscious effort, each breath taken with a deliberate awareness that he was doing it. His heart beat a slow steady rhythm in his chest. He cleared his mind of all thought, all the distractions.
Baraethius assumed a sword stance, his hand reversed on the pommel of his practice sword so that the `blade' lay against the length of his forearm. A voice echoed in his head from years long past.
Be thou as water.
Baraethius brought the brought the practice sword across the front of him in a short, controlled arc and with that first movement he began the form that he had been taught years ago.
Flow smoothly with the world around you.
Baraethius' pace began to quicken, he focused on keeping his breathing controlled and his steps and swings crisp.
If a stone is put in a river's path does the water try to fight it? No, it flows around it, finding a new path.
The air began to whistle with each stroke that Baraethius made. He spun, twisted, sidestepped, slashed and thrust.
Given time, water may even prevail against stone.
Baraethius finished the last step in the form and held it for a moment, breathing heavily. Most of it was simply too specific, and too difficult to really pull off in a fight. But there were pieces of it that had saved his life more than once.
Baraethius was brought out of his own thoughts by the sound of clapping. He twisted, startled, to the source of the sound and was momentarily taken aback. Standing under the eaves leaning against the wall of the barracks was a man, although that was almost too loose a term to apply. He stood probably about a good seven feet tall, possibly more. He had a powerful build, with thick legs, chest and arms. The white linen of the man's clothes was at odds with his skin. The man was hewn basalt, carved ebony. His teeth were a sudden slash of ivory matching the whites of his eyes, the irises of which were a brown so deep that they might as well be black. His hair was clean shaven but a coarse black tangle bearded his face.
The man stepped out into the yard and it was like watching a mountain move. Yet the man was almost literally a shadow and made about as much noise.
"You fight well," the man observed. He spoke with a heavy accent from the far south, even despite his obvious fluency with Latin. "Better dan most of da new men I have seen. And, for true, I have seen many. What was `dat you were just doing? I have not seen da like before."
"I was tutored by a man from the far east," Baraethius answered hesitantly, "a long time ago."
"I t'ink you will do well," the man said, studying Baraethius from a few feet away. The close scrutiny was almost uncomfortable. The man nodded to himself as if coming to a decision.
"Come, follow me."
"Forgive me, sir," Baraethius objected, "but unless I'm mistaken the mess will not be serving mid forever. I'd be loath to miss a meal. Even such scanty fair as they might offer," he added almost as an afterthought.
"Perhaps I can offer somet'ing more den," the man said as he turned to go, obviously expecting Baraethius to follow. "You would do well to come wit' me, Baraet'ius."
The sudden use of his own name startled Baraethius into motion. He followed the gigantic man down a hallway flanked by two soldiers, leaving his practice sword on a rack of such weapons at the edge of the yard.
"Traitor," one of the soldiers spat across his path as he entered the hallway. Baraethius did his best to pretend it never happened, it was hardly the worst insult he had received since being confined here.
Baraethius followed the man through the corridors. At one point the soldiers tried to stop him, but at a wave from the man leading him the soldiers relented, if begrudgingly. The man strayed away from the cells and barracks and led Baraethius to a small set of apartments. The furnishings were bordering on lavish, a woven rug laid across the floor and a few tasseled cushions littered the floor. A small table, polished till it gleamed, sat in one corner with a tray on it and two polished chairs on either side.
While the apartments were decadent when compared with Baraethius' cell there was still a man standing guard at the door. The man clasped forearms with his apparent jailer in an almost companionable gesture. He motioned Baraethius to one chair and took the other. The tray held a fresh loaf of bread, kept warm by a clean linen wrap. A pitcher of wine and a goblet sat beside a plate with a large chunk of crumbly cheese, slices of cooked beef, and, for a wonder, a stem full of ripe grapes and a small handful of olives. Compared to what Baraethius usually ate this was food fit for the Emperor.
"Guard," the man called from the table, "anot'er cup here, if you'd be so kind." The guard said something to someone passing in the hall and another goblet was produced in short order.
The man plucked off a few grapes and motioned for Baraethius to help himself. Baraethius began to eat hesitantly, but at further prompting from his host he began to eat with great enthusiasm.
"It would appear," Baraethius said after washing a mouthful down with some wine, "that you have me at a small disadvantage. You seem to know who I am but I do not know you."
The man sat studying Baraethius for a moment then gave a small half smile and shook his head.
"A wonder dat," the man said. His tone was odd. If Baraethius had to venture a guess he would have said that the man sounded sardonic, almost bitter. Yet from what he saw around him this man lived better than most people in Rome.
"Da name I was born wit' I left behind a long time ago. May be one day I will have it back, for now I am called Leo."
Baraethius almost choked on a grape.
"I, I saw you fight... once... eight years ago. I was little more than a boy though. Most gladiators only last one, maybe two years. A rare few last three or four, if they are not given their freedom before then."
The rest of the statement hung in the air unsaid.
"I see den dat my reputation speaks for itself," there was amusement in his voice with just the slightest touches of bitterness. "I t'ink den dat I must have been as old as you were den when I was taken. Since den I t'ink da rains must have come an' gone twenty times. Sometimes it seems longer dan dat, at ot'ers it seems only yesterday.
"Den we have you, Baraet'ius," the man Leo came out of his revere and considered Baraethius. "From what da guards tell me you were a soldier before dis, an' dat you turned traitor."
Baraethius swallowed slowly, put down the goblet, pushed the tray aside and sat back, folding his arms across his chest with a sense of measured deliberateness.
"What is it that you want from me?"
"Want?" Leo turned the word over in his mouth for a moment, as though a man tasting something foreign. "No. I do not want. Look around, my every want is here. I do not want for food, or wine, or comfort, or even pleasurable company. What more would any man want?" Anger beginning to crowd out the bitterness.
"I have been a gladiator longer dan some have lived. I am a possession, an object to be had, owned by de Emperor himself.
"No," Leo said, sadness now coloring his voice, "I gave up wanting a long time ago.
"But I t'ink," he hesitated for a moment then pushed forward, "I t'ink dere may be somet'ing yet dat we may do for each ot'er. Your situation is like mine, or so I hear. The Emperor holds you as his possession, please him in the Arena and you will be well rewarded. Behold the evidence," Leo made a gesture taking in the apartments.
"Until you do though t'ings will be difficult for you, especially for what you have done I t'ink."
"What are you asking?" Baraethius cut in irritably. He was getting tired of waiting for the man to make his point.
"De guards all respect me," Leo said, seeming to dodge the question. "De warden treads carefully around me, for while he has de runnin' of dis place I belong to the Emperor and currently I please His Majesty. De Emperor would be displeased I t'ink, if any harm came to me.
"My point is this," Leo said right over an objection Baraethius was about to make. "Of all da t'ings dat I have one of de few dat I do not is friendship. Dat is not somet'ing dat many can give to me.
"My offer is dis, come live wit' me, here, and give me such friendship as you can give me. I know dat you will have to come to it on your own, but for now eat wit' me, drink wit' me. We can talk, commiserate, and train toget'er. T'ings will be easier for bot' of us I t'ink."
"Why me?" Baraethius asked, taken aback. This was the last thing that he had expected. "Surely you could have asked any of the other new gladiators."
"All de ot'ers are eit'er too full of de glory dey t'ink to earn, too terrified or will not live t'rough deir first fight. You, I t'ink, will do well and go far."
"I'm," Baraethius hesitated. The offer was generous. But he was wary. "I'm not certain it would be wisdom to befriend a man whom I might have to face as my enemy in the future."
Leo threw his head back and roared with laughter, a full throated guffaw, his arms wrapped around his sides.
"If dat ever happens," he said between gasps for air, "it will be a long time from now. Mont's, if not years. De Emperor, you see, is loat' to lose his playt'ings, or to have dem hurting each ot'er.
"No," Leo shook his head, "if you and I meet in de Arena, de eit'er you or I will have displeased him, and greatly I t'ink.
"You see," he answered the obvious question on Baraethius' face, "it is one t'ing to lose a gladiator in combat against anot'er's gladiator. It is anot'er t'ing to have your possessions killing each ot'er. It might help you if you t'ink of yourself as one of his trophies. Someone may take it from you t'rough combat, but you do not rob yourself of one of dem."
Baraethius sat in quiet thought for a moment. Again, the man's offer was generous. But Baraethius wasn't sure he could take it at face value, if Leo wanted more than Baraethius was willing or able to give then things might become... unpleasant, and quickly at that.
"Would you give me some time to consider?" Baraethius asked as tactfully as he could.
"Absolutely," Leo flashed a grin, a bright crescent in a clear night. "I ask no more than you are willing to offer, Baraet'ius," Leo spoke as if reading Baraethius' mind.
They finished their meal in relative silence, though it felt somewhat strained. When their meal was finished Baraethius stood to go and Leo stood as well.
"I will give you a week," Leo said with a companionable smile on face, "but I would know your answer by den."
Leo stuck out his hand across the small table. Baraethius hesitated only a moment, then clasped the other man's forearm, retuning the gesture.
"Thank you," Baraethius said, surprising himself with the sincerity in his own voice. "There have been few enough that have extended their hands to me in friendship in the last few weeks. I am still uncertain about your offer, but I still thank you."
"Be well for now, friend," Leo watched as Baraethius left.
The soldier outside gave Baraethius a dirty, suspicious look, but that was all. It was the most respect he had received from any of the guards thus far.
The rest of the day followed the usual routine, the other guards exhibiting the now customary displays of disgust. Training was exhausting but simple. The food of a mild quality, and he seemed to have gained a reputation with the other gladiators in training, which was not a good thing.
When he lay down on his small cot, tired and sore from the training exercises of the day, he found that it had been soaked through. He didn't bother trying to complain to one of the guards, they would have said it was the least he deserved. Fortunately the night was mild, as only late spring or early summer nights can be, and as he doffed his clothes and laid back with only his small clothes on the cool soaked mattress felt soothing on the spots where he knew he would have bruises.
Several of the gladiators in training had thought it good sport to match themselves against him all at once. The four of them were decent fighters; they just simply lacked his experience. Had this been a real match though, he would have been very badly wounded, but a good deal better off than their lot would have been. As it was he would bear the bruises for the next few weeks.
The next two days passed in much the same manner, with one exception. When they paired off to spar Leo sat off to the sides to watch. The other gladiators thought nothing of it at first till another few thought to have their sport with Baraethius again. As soon as the three of them had formed up around him Leo said a word to the guards and the group was immediately broken up.
It was both a boon and a curse. For while Baraethius was grateful not to have to undergo the same ordeal as the day before he noticed the dark looks that the men who were sent back to their sparing gave him, as well as the warden. It was clear that the warden did not like the amount of influence that Leo had over the guards. Baraethius who the men were that had been rebuffed, he would have to take extra special care with them.
Leo gave a small nod of his head and Baraethius acknowledged the gesture with a slight inclination as well. The other man was probably aware of the cost of what he had just done, for both of them, but the effort was still appreciated.
Leo was present the next day as well.
The third day after Leo had made his offer Baraethius had a visitor, the man he had been waiting to see. Ithukas was let into Baraethius' cell.
"I've missed you," Baraethius mumbled into Ithukas' hair as he embraced his companion.
"Likewise," Ithukas answered back, returning Baraethius' embrace. They held each other for a few moments. Then Ithukas broke off and looked over Baraethius. "I'd better get my check up done first. They're anxious for me to release you from my care."
Baraethius knew what Ithukas had meant to say, and why he had hesitated. They avoided speaking about what would happen when Ithukas declared him fully recovered.
Ithukas had Baraethius strip down to his small clothes and began to examine all the older injuries, trying not to wince at the newer bruises and cuts that had accumulated. He had Baraethius walk the length of the room and back several times, carefully examining the man's stride. After everything was done Ithukas could find nothing amiss with the man.
"It seems," bitterness creeping into Ithukas' voice, "that you are hale and healthy. I declare you fit and ready for combat," his voice trembled and he could not quite meet Baraethius' eyes.
"Ithukas," Baraethius said, his voice full of compassion and comfort. He reached for Ithukas and the other man almost fell into him.
"I'm not ready though," Ithukas breathed, shuddering. "I'm so sorry Baraethius, I'm trying to be strong, you don't need to have me falling apart on you, but the thought of you in there..." Ithukas shuddered silently against Baraethius and Baraethius allowed it for a few moments.
Then he put his hands on Ithukas' shoulders and pushed the man back so he could look in Ithukas' eyes, one hand taking Ithukas by the chin.
"You're right," Baraethius said sternly, "I don't need you to fall apart on me. I can't do this alone, Ithukas, I can't. It may be selfishness on my part, but I need you to be strong, I need to be able to rely on your strength.
"Remember that we were soldiers first before we were lovers. I have seen you in the field, there is strength in you. I've watched you save a man's life when the only thing that kept it there was your hands holding it in. And he lived to fight yet again.
"This is a battle, I am under siege as surely as if we were in the field. I'll not belittle my own strength and courage, they have been tried and tested. But I'll not make it alone. I need your strength to lean on or I will break in here and there's an end.
"Please Ithukas," his voice dropped to an almost whisper, "you are all I have left. I lose you and I have lost everything."
"Forgive me my moment of weakness," Ithukas gave a small laugh. It was all he could do to not break down again. "There are times when I forget why it was you rose so quickly. You always seem to know just what to say, heart of my heart.
"You talk of my strength, but this is yours it seems. You can pick men up when they think that all is lost and begin to yield to despair. You can find reserves of strength as yet untapped inside them, reserves that they had no knowledge of.
"If anyone can get through this you can," smiled, his eyes glittered with tears yet unshed, but he still smiled.
"There is something we must discuss," Baraethius said hesitantly. He began to tell of Leo's offer, sitting on the edge of the small cot.
"The man has not made it implicit," Baraethius finished, "but I believe that he wishes me to share his bed in every sense of the word. And I would hear your thoughts and feelings on the matter."
Ithukas looked down at Baraethius for a long moment.
"From everything you tell me this will aid in your survival, yes?"
Baraethius nodded.
"Then take it," Ithukas said without hesitation. "Take it and with it my blessing, do what you must do to survive. I can't be with you every day so find your allies where you can. So long as you are alive there is always a chance, right?" Ithukas smiled, giving Baraethius his words back to him.
"Thank you," Baraethius said with simple sincerity. He drew Ithukas sown to him and kissed him, putting into it everything he felt for the man, passion, desire, longing. Ithukas answered him in kind, pouring in his need and his want.
"eh!" The guard thumped on the door. "If yer finished in there hurry `er up! I don't have all day!"
Baraethius growled in frustration.
"Be well," Ithukas whispered, kissing Baraethius gently on the head. He stood back and went out without looking behind him.
Baraethius lay back on his cot, losing himself in his thoughts. The call for supper rang and Baraethius rose, donning his clothes. The guard opened the door, spitting loudly across Baraethius' path. Baraethius did his best to ignore everything from the guards as he made his way to the mess.
About half way there he came across Leo in the hall.
"Ah, Baraet'ius," the large man exclaimed, "good. I was rat'er hoping we might cross paths before you dinned."
"Greetings Leo," Baraethius said, not un-warmly. He had decided to accept Leo's offer, but he still was uncertain about his feelings for the man.
Leo smiled, understanding.
"I was hoping dat you might dine wit' me dis evening."
"That would be a fine thing," Baraethius said back, fixing his smile in place.
"Excellent," Leo beamed, his smile becoming a grin. He led Baraethius down the halls, talking excitedly all the while. Baraethius couldn't help but smile in places, in spite of himself. Try as he might though he just could not seem to relax, to let himself feel comfortable.
They entered Leo's apartments, Leo smiling and nodding at the guard, and shut the door behind him. Candles in sconces about the room held off the encroaching dark.
They sat opposite each other again at the small table in the front of Leo's rooms.
"What is da trouble my friend?" Leo said without preamble. "You smile but it seems as t'ough you would rat'er frown. Is my company so undesirable?"
"No," Baraethius said too quickly, stopped himself and paused to gather his thoughts. "Forgive me but I seem to be lost in my own thoughts tonight.
"There is something that I would discuss with you though," Leo went ahead and poured them both a goblet of wine and motioned for Baraethius to continue, his face attentive.
"I have decided," Baraethius began to explain, "to accept your offer."
"Dis is happy news, yes?" Leo interjected. "Why den de hesitation in your eye?"
"You have been forthright with me," Baraethius responded, "now let me be forthright with you.
"You say your bargain is for friendship, but you must know that that must come on its own. I do not know how far you wish to take this, what exactly you might want out of it and ultimately I am not certain how much I am willing to give. As it stands my heart belongs to another, whom you might meet in time if we are to start living together. I cannot say that will or will not change with time, but for now I will say that I will do my best to give you such friendship as I can."
Leo studied Baraethius for a moment after he had made an end of speaking. Baraethius sat with his eyes downcast and his hands resting on the table top. He was so deep in his own thought that the hand Leo gently placed upon his arm startled him. He looked up at the other man and saw Leo smiling in all sincerity at him.
"My friend," Leo said quietly, "dat is de only way I would have dis arrangement. I will never ask for somet'ing more den you are willing to give.
"Who knows," Leo said, leaning back in his chair, "perhaps in time, t'ings may progress to dat. Your heart may indeed find room for anot'er. But for now all I ask is your friendship.
"Come," he said, standing, "enjoy da food. I must go tell da warden of your new arrangements. I shall return shortly."
He gave Baraethius' shoulder a squeeze as he passed on his way out the door. The man was disarmingly genuine in a very direct fashion. Baraethius was sure that, given time he would come to like Leo. Who knew, perhaps even the more that this man spoke of as well.
Baraethius did not quite feel hungry yet, not that he wouldn't in a bit. But in the mean time he decided to explore where he would make his home in the days to come.
The only door was the one that separated the rooms from the rest of the compound. There was the front room, then there was a dressing room, a room with a large stone basin with a spout for running water (a wonder and a luxury, that) and space for a fire to be made underneath. In fact Baraethius noticed that there was already a bed of hot coals occupying this space. The bedroom was the only other room the apartment had. A small living space by normal standards, but lavish when compared to what the other gladiators had.
In the bedroom was a wash stand with a mirror in a carved frame. The bowl was of fine porcelain and the mirror was free of bubbles and imperfections, which said something in and of itself. There was a razor and foam, oils and soaps scented with herbs.
The bed itself was a marvel, thick oak and richly carved in whiling patterns, a canopy of rich red satin and silken sheets. The covers were made from fine wool and the mattress itself was down, the pillows plush and firm. The bedroom also had a small hearth with an easy blaze to take away any chill that might linger in the late spring air.
At length Baraethius heard the door open and close and went out to the front room in time to meet Leo at the table.
"Ah, dere you are," Leo said striding over to the table and seating himself. Baraethius took the chair opposite him and began to help himself to the food, bread and cheese, at looked and smelled like lamb and a bowl full of olives.
"De warden," Leo said, taking a swallow of wine to wash down a mouthful of food, "he was not happy about de change to your arrangements. It seems dat you managed to earn his ire simply by being an excellent fighter," Leo smiled, taking another swallow of wine.
"It seems like it's rather easy to be on the wrong side of that man," Baraethius came back. The thought of being an irritant to the warden brought him a vindictive sort of pleasure.
"If you'll excuse me a moment," Leo said, standing. He disappeared farther into the apartment and Baraethius heard the sound of running water. A few minutes later the sound stopped and Leo emerged again.
"If you would like to join me," Leo said, seating himself again, "in a little while I am going to take a bat'. De water should heat up just enough when we have finished off the wine."
"Gods," Baraethius breathed, it had been some time since he had last had wine and was feeling light headed, "I've not had a proper bath in months it seem. Of course I'll join you."
"Good," Leo exclaimed, his smile splitting his face again. He poured the last of the wine into each of their goblets and they began to sip idly.
"Tomorrow I t'ink," Leo said after a few moments had passed, "you shall train wit' me."
"It would be good to spar with someone who actually knows how to fight," Baraethius speculated idly. "Even with training every day I feel like I'm getting rusty."
"If you were able to use what you were practicing in the yard de ot'er day you could be very spectacular," Leo suggested. "You could become a crowd favorite quickly I t'ink."
"I'm not so certain," Baraethius shook his head and took another sip. "Most of that is hardly practical in a fight. Mostly it can help teach balance and reflexes, otherwise a man could very well lose his life while trying to be flashy."
"You make a good point," Leo conceded. "But still, it is too tempting an opportunity to simply dismiss out of hand. When we train tomorrow I would like you to start practicing it in de sense of actual combat. And besides, dis is fighting in de Arena, not de field. Flashy is what you want to go for if you can."
"Well, we can see how it goes," Baraethius mused.
A noise at the door drew Baraethius' attention, the sound of a bolt being slid into place.
"It seems dat dey say I am done for de day," Leo shook his head. "No matter. I t'ink de bath is ready now. Shall we?"
"Certainly," Baraethius said, finishing off his wine.
He stood and followed Leo to the other room, which had steam rising off the water. Leo began removing his sandals and stripping down to the skin. He heard Leo stepping into the water and turned around. The man watched him with an approving eye and Baraethius felt a little flutter of sudden self consciousness. But then he remembered Leo's assurance, no more than he was willing to give.
He stepped in the bath and the water was a welcome heat for sore muscles. Baraethius and Leo both simply leaned back and relaxed for a few moments. The heat of the water and the wine were both going to Baraethius' head.
He heard the water stir and opened his eyes. Leo was standing with a chunk of soap he had taken from the edge of the bath.
"Come," he said, "let me wash you, den you can return de favor."
Baraethius stood, water coming up to his hips, and obliged the man. Leo whetted the soap and began to run it over Baraethius' torso.
"You have a very good build," Leo noted as he gave his full attention to the task. "I'm not as heavy as most men," Baraethius mumbled disparagingly, "I'll never be as strong as some men."
"True," Leo conceded, "but I t'ink dat what you lack in strength and size you will make up for in speed. In a fight it will make for a better spectacle. De crowd will not wish a fight to be over too quickly, more rather dey wish for somet'ing blood and drawn out.
"More over," his tone changing slightly, "I can appreciate de artistry of your build. De lines on your body flow cleanly and evenly into each ot'er, like ripples on de surface of de water, wit' out de excess to distract de eye. I t'ink dat many a woman and man has eyed you wit' longing."
Leo finished with washing Baraethius and, producing a small pitcher from beside the bath, he washed the soap from Baraethius' back and torso.
Baraethius smiled appreciatively at the man and, taking up the soap, began to return the favor.
"I think that if stone could be made flesh it would fashion itself after you," Baraethius slurred his speech a little. He also couldn't help but admire the other man's build. Powerful, think limbs and lines covered the man's body, seeming all the starker for the man's coloring. A very light covering of black, curly hair grew in a few places over the man's torso like a dark moss clinging to stone, like the beard covering his face.
"T'ank you," Leo said smiling broadly.
Baraethius finished washing the other man and poured water over him as well. Leo picked up a small bottle of oil and pulled out the stopper. He began smoothing it over Baraethius' skin in slow, strong strokes.
"You will have your first fight soon," Leo commented idly as he rubbed the oil into Baraethius' skin. "Your physician, Ithukas I t'ink his name was, released you from care today. T'ough I guess you knew dat."
"Yes, I did indeed," Baraethius' face fell a little at the prospect. "When do you think my first fight will be?"
"My guess," Leo mused, "is dat dey will start you eit'er de end of dis week or dey beginning of da next. It will give us a few opportunities to practice toget'er before dat. We must be certain to do what we can."
Leo finished rubbing the oil into Baraethius' skin and Baraethius turned to do the same. Baraethius had a guilty pang. Since the washing and rubbing down had begun he had felt himself stirring, his manhood arousing to the motion and press of Leo's hands. Was he truly so fickle? He had told this man naught but a few minutes ago about his hesitations, about how he already held a man in his heart. Was a little wine and a hot bath all it took to loosen his resolve?
"Somet'ing troubles you again?" Leo made the statement a question.
"I... I'm sorry," Baraethius apologized. "I'm feeling very fickle right now, and somewhat ashamed of it."
"Your heart pulls you one way," Leo empathized, "while your body pulls you anot'er."
Baraethius merely dropped his eyes to the surface of the water. Leo raised Baraethius' chin with his finger, making Baraethius look him in the eyes.
"When I told you I wanted your friendship I meant it," Leo's gaze and tone were intense. "If I had only desired the de comforts of anot'er's body I could have dat any time I wanted.
"I'll not rip out your heart and cleave it in twain to get it. Let your heart cherish dose dat already reside in it. And when and if you are ready to know me in your heart, like you know dis ot'er, den you can let yourself go."
"Thank you," Baraethius whispered. Leo smile and kissed both of Baraethius' checks.
Baraethius rubbed oil on the other man's torso, not giving him near the amount of attention that he had given Baraethius, but somehow Baraethius got the impression that it was alright. They both rinsed off the excess and Leo fetched a linen towel for each of them and they both proceeded to dry each other off.
After that Baraethius was exhausted and almost literally fell into bed. He was vaguely aware of Leo extinguishing all the candles lit around the rooms. There was a rustle of silken sheets as the large man slid under the covers. The bed was fairly large, but then so was Leo. So Baraethius made no qualms about Leo curling around his back, and, truth be told, the warmth of another man's body was a comfort. Though Baraethius was distinctly aware of the semi-hard shaft pressed against the swell of his legs. It was long and thick already, and it was not yet fully hard.
Baraethius lay, pondering the recent turns his life had taken, and fell asleep.