The Trident

"What did the woman look like?"

"Young thing. Pretty as they come."

"What time was it?"

"About the fifth hour; same as now."

Gaius flipped him a silver coin.

"Be well, gladiator. I'll bet this denarius on your next fight."

In a short time Gaius returned to the Porta Capena just as the guards changed shift. A tall soldier came out of a small guard shack as Gaius approached. "Ho, Thanatos. How goes it?"

Gaius grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a hot one, isn't it?"

"You can say that again. That was one hell of a fight you had with Belenus. You put that fucking Batavian in his place alright."

"Yeah, in his grave," a second soldier, shorter than the first, said, coming out to see Rome's most famous gladiator of the moment. "You got another fight coming up soon?"

"Can't make any money otherwise," Gaius grinned. He glanced around idly for a moment. "Say maybe you can help me. I was having a few the other day at the way station with a heavy set guy with a scar on his cheek and his young friend, fellow with curly hair. I was interested in buying a slave girl they had with them, but I passed out before we could come to terms. I was thinking they might have come this way. They were traveling on horseback, I believe."

"Oh, sure," the shorter soldier said. "That's those two mercenaries named Mack and Harkin. They're into everything. They had the girl with them. A real looker. Out cold. Mack said she was his girlfriend, but if she was a slave that would explain the bruise on her jaw.

"Happen to know where I can find them?"

"Well, the one called Mack has a place at the foot of the Esquiline in Subura. I'm not sure where exactly. Someone can put you on to them, though. They're a well known item."

*

They weren't that well known Gaius found out, but eventually he ran into a lupa who gladly gave him directions, when he told her he had a score to settle, since she had been beaten and raped by the two men.

When he got to the two story structure the front door was ajar. Inside he found, what were no doubt, Harkin and Mack lying on the floor in pools of blood. They'd been stabbed repeatedly. Upstairs was an empty bedroom and a storeroom full of assorted merchandise. A lift platform was attached to pulleys outside the window.

Justina was nowhere in sight.

Y

"Momma, when will Gaius come back?" Sarah asked, while eating oatmeal at the breakfast table.

"I don't know, honey," Miriam said, placing a hot buttered wheat bun next to the bowl of oatmeal. "You ask the same question everyday. The master is very busy, but I'm sure he'll be back as soon as he can."

Sarah finished her oatmeal, then picked up the bun. "Can I go see Zipporah, mamma?"

"Yes, but be sure and eat all the bun. Don't give it to the cat."

Outside, she broke off a piece of the bread and tossed it to a grey cat named Ariel that rushed up to her. She walked on down a dirt path to where a reed bird cage hung between two trees on a line. Iolaos had made the cage for her when she had found a fledgling robin floundering on the ground unable to fly but too big to return to its nest. He had fixed an outside perch to it so the mother robin could continue feeding the fledgling until it would be able to fly.

"When he's able to fly up to the top perch," Iolaos had said, "you can let him out."

But as she came up to the cage something wasn't right. Zipporah wasn't on his perch. Closer, she saw a clump of feathers lying still on the bottom of the cage.

"Zipporah?" she whispered. She nudged the cage, but there was no response.

Iolaos fashioned a coffin. Tearfully, Sarah wrapped the tiny body in a piece of linen cloth and placed it in the coffin. She went down the road in front of the main house to a place that overlooked the plain below to the rim of the sea far beyond. She scraped out a hole with a rock and placed the coffin in it.

"Goodbye, Zipporah," she whispered, then filled the hole back up. She placed the rock on top, then sat down next to the tiny grave and stared into the distance.

Chapter XIV

"I'll teach you how to cuss in Greek. That's something your tutors neglected," Damon said. "And you can teach me philosophy."

Lucius smiled. A bright youth, near his own age, Damon's poor parents had sold him into slavery. His last owner, a farmer, had dropped dead one day while plowing his fields. Damon, a female cook and another male slave, along with other household property were auctioned off, and Lucius, needing someone to help him with his small farm, bought him for 10 minae after he'd arrived in Ephesus.

"I'm not a philosopher anymore."

Damon, smooth-faced, deeply tanned and muscular from years working in the hot sun, sat on a couch, his back against the living room wall of the small hut of concrete and brick that Lucius had purchased. Lucius leaned back in a creaking chair with his feet propped up on a old grey wood table, his hawk-like face fixed toward the ceiling. Both youths were drinking a thick Greek wine.

"But you studied philosophy."

"Not anymore."

Damon ran his fingers through his thick hair, puzzled by his young master whom he knew had been exiled, from Rome, by his wealthy father, though he was unaware precisely why. Outside, through the doorway, he could see the blinding heat of the sun wavering the air. It was just after noon and time for sensible people to nap for a couple of hours, but Damon wanted to find out more about Lucius.

"What will you be if not a philosopher?"

Lucius chuckled and held up his cup of wine. "A consumer of wine, perhaps, or a gentleman farmer on a small scale--very small, for with just a few acres I doubt I'll get rich."

Damon smiled. Since being purchased by Lucius, at the agora, life had been sweet. The small farm grew figs, dates, apples, pears, olives and onions providing the produce they kept for themselves or sold in the agora. They had a few sheep to make cheese and two acres of grape vines that gave them all the wine they could drink or sell. For things they didn't produce they bought at the agora, like wheat flour, salt, white bread, eggs, fish, quail, and honey. A black freed woman, named Kebi, cooked for them. Compared to the brutal sunup to sundown laboring she'd known before this was paradise.

"Why did you give up philosophy?"

"A philosopher has to believe in truth. I no longer do."

"But surely you believe in the gods and life after death or else how can you go on?"

Lucius righted his chair for a moment and poured himself more wine from a clay jug, then leaned back again. "It is because life is futile that men want to believe in gods and an after life. But wanting it doesn't make it so."

"But how can you ever be happy? I would be miserable if I didn't believe that the good are rewarded with an afterlife."

"Where's your proof? Where in nature do you see the gods having concern for human beings?"

"But the priests tell us--"

"Fools or liars."

Damon remained silent. Then, "What do you do to be happy?"

"To be happy, I stroll down Harbor Street mornings and browse through the bookstores or listen to learned men who lecture from the walkways or debate this or that. Or I drift over to a whorehouse for a little tail. I hike in the mountains or sit on the dock and watch the ships come into harbor and unload their merchandise. I sit here with you and drink wine. We pick fruit and tend the garden. And we have a fantastic cook. I enjoy it all. I am healthy and free from pain. So far I'm truly blessed. I'm happier than I ever was constantly searching for illusive truth. I think I shall be sorry to die, and I think that's the best anyone can ever hope to say."

*

Vassus palmed her budding tits and thumbed the pink nipples. He lowered his hands to stroke her naked body. She turned her face to the side, eyes tightly closed, teeth pressed into her lower lip. Her delicate wrists were tied with ropes that hung from an overhead beam. Her toes barely touched the stone floor.

"I finally have you. I offered to buy you from your master, Gaius Saturninus, did you know? Of course you didn't know. I'm just speaking my thoughts. Rhetorical. It's fate. You were destined to be mine...to do with whatever I wish." He moved his finger to her cunt and inserted it. "You're dry. But I know how to fix that. In time I will merely have to snap my fingers and you'll be instantly eager to please. Wet and willing."

Vassus removed his finger from her cunt and stuck it in his mouth, then he stuck it back in her cunt, rubbing his thumb against her clit. "Feels good, doesn't it? I know you like it 'cause you're a cock loving slut. Tell me you like it. That's the first lesson."

Vassus moved his finger in and out slowly. He felt her clit harden against his thumb. "Ho, now we know, don't we? The body doesn't lie. You can pretend to fight it all you want, but in truth you love it. You can't live without it. I know. I've turned dozens of boys and girls, men and women, into sex slaves. I've never failed. Not once, and you know why? Because all of them wanted to be slaves."

Vassus turned her and spread her ass cheeks. The tight looking hole was pink and inviting. He pulled off his tunic. His fat body was baby soft, pink and clean shaven. His cock was huge and jerked up against his bulbous belly with a smacking sound. He gripped it with one pudgy hand while steadying her with the other.

"I usually prefer young boys, but you have such a boyish figure I'll pretend you are one." He placed the head of his purple-headed cock against the puckered hole, breathing rapidly with anticipation.

His body reeked of cloying perfume. It was nauseating. Justina would have heaved, but she hadn't eaten anything for three days. He placed his soft arms around her and pulled. She felt the head of his cock begin to slide into her. It felt as if it was ripping her apart. The palms of his hands were pressed against her belly pulling her onto the thick organ. She tried to twist away, but with only her toes touching the stone floor she couldn't gain traction.

He moved deeper within her. Flames of pain racked her insides as if his cock were coated with shards of glass. She cried, but his cock continued impaling her without mercy.

She felt his bloated belly against her ass cheeks when he lodged his organ fully inside her. He raised his hands to her tits twisting the swollen nipples and placed his slobbering mouth against her neck biting down painfully. As he pulled out it was as if her insides were being torn from her. She screamed repeatedly, but the walls were of stone. No one beyond them could hear her, nor would anyone care if they could.

He raped her, using her naked body as if she were just a piece of raw meat in the jaws of an enraged beast. He was sweating heavily when he finally pulled his cock out of her. Copious amounts of come dripped from her and down the inside of her thighs forming a viscous pool where the tips of her toes touched the gritty stone.

Without a word Vassus left through a doorway. Justina heard female voices and the splash of water. A steamy humidity seeped into the room and she guessed there was a bath somewhere beyond. More female laughter. Raunchy. Justina prayed to her northern gods that the women wouldn't come into the room and see her shame. But she knew her wish wouldn't be answered when she heard wet bare feet padding toward her. Two young girls came into the room. Both were naked and giggled as they saw Justina hanging from the beam.

If she expected them to take pity on her, she quickly realized from the salacious expressions on their faces that they were deriving some kind of perverted arousal from her plight. One of the girls moved around behind her while the other approached her from the front. She felt soft hands stroke her ass cheeks. The girl in front squeezed her tits, then with glee twisted her nipples crudely.

As Justina cried out the girl slapped her hard across her jaw, then punched her in the belly. Justina gagged with dry heaves, bile dripping from her mouth. Both girls got on their knees and began licking up the come on her legs. Soon their mouths joined at her cunt and asshole. Tongues worked furiously at her tender center. Pain raced through her body. She was unable to stop the cries of agony that escaped her lips as the two girls trashed her naked flesh.

The girl in front picked up a leather whip, flexing it, making a sticky crackling sound. The girl behind reached between her legs and forced them apart. The girl in front was smiling smugly. She forced the thick handle into her cunt twisting it cruelly, then jammed it in and jerked it out. She licked the blood from the handle and shoved it back in. The girl behind inserted her fingers in her asshole and frigged her rapidly.

The girl in front pulled the crop from her cunt and wiped it on Justina's tits leaving bloody streaks. Stepping closer she doubled her fist and pressed it against Justina's cunt.

"No!" Justina screamed. "Please, no!"

The fist disappeared inside her, then half the forearm. The girl behind took up the whip and began beating Justina who was no longer conscious.

*

GAIUS TO HIS AMICUS, LUCIUS, GREETINGS,

I WAS VERY PLEASED TO HEAR FROM YOU. YOU SAY THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN UP PHILOSOPHY AND BECOME A FARMER AND A WINEMAKER. YOU SAY YOU ARE AN ATHEIST. ISN'T THAT A PHILOSPHY?

I, TOO, AM A FARMER. I KILLED OPOLLO FIGHTING UNDER THE NAME THANATOS AND DOMITIAN AWARDED ME HIS FARM. I KNOW YOU DESPISE GLADIATORIAL COMBAT. I TOO. BUT I LACK YOUR CHARACTER, AMICUS. I AM SEATED IN THE MATERIAL WORLD. BEING RAISED IN WEALTH SPOILED ME FOR ANY OTHER KIND OF LIFE. FIGHTING IN THE SAND IS THE ONLY WAY, SHORT OF PIRACY, THAT I CAN EVER HOPE TO WIN BACK MY PORTION OF THE HIGH LIFE. PERHAPS I WILL DIE IN THE ATTEMPT, BUT SO BE IT. I WOULD RATHER BE DEAD THAN POOR.

I HAVE GIVEN UP POETRY. TIME TO PUT AWAY CHILDISH THINGS. NO LOSS. I NEVER WROTE ANYTHING BUT SENTIMENTAL CRAP FOR YOUNG GIRLS. THE FEW GOOD POEMS I WROTE I CAN COUNT ON ONE HAND AND WILL NOT BE MISSED.

I HAVE MY PICK OF WOMEN. THEY ARE HOT FOR MEN WHO SPILL BLOOD. BUT I CARE NOTHING FOR THEM. WE ARE TRULY THE PLAYTHINGS OF THE GODS WHO SEEM TO DELIGHT IN OUR TORMENT. I PRAY TO NEMESIS AND HERUCLES BUT, TRUTH BE KNOWN, MONEY IS MY REAL GOD.

WELL, I HAVE BORED YOU LONG ENOUGH, AMICUS. SOMEDAY, GODS WILLING, I WILL SHOW UP ON YOUR DOORSTEP, LIKE A STRAY DOG, AND WE CAN GET DRUNK ON YOUR GREEK WINE AND RAISE HELL. IF YOU EVER NEED ANYTHING YOU KNOW YOU ONLY NEED ASK. BE WELL.

*

How often the burning sun returns
and then is gone,
and each day brings forth less hope,
spends what's held most dear
to drown in dust.

*

Lucius woke up with the sun shining in his eyes. He had climbed Mount Korresos the previous day to pick wild blackberries and fallen asleep under a myrtle. He sat up yawning, rubbing his eyes, and stared down the slope of the mountain to Ephesus, then out to the emerald glimmer of the Aegean beyond the harbour.

He gathered up his bucket full of ripe blackberries, that had just barely lost their sheen--that's when they are best to eat--and started down a goat path toward the City Wall, south of Ephesus, a massive stone work, 30 feet high, that stretched out from the eastern inland hills to the western Harbor Gate for almost two miles. As he came into the city he saw a large crowd gathering in Domitian Square at the end of Curates Street with its porticos. Damon, who was standing in the crowd, spotted him and came forward.

"What's going on?" Lucius asked.

"It's Apollonius of Tyana. He's going to speak."

They made their way through the crowd to the northern side of the square where a huge monument to Sulla and his son had been erected. Standing in front was an elderly man of firm stature, with unkempt grey hair and beard, in a tan linen tunic.

Several of what must have been his disciples stood behind him on either side, both men and women.

"Hello, people of Ephesus. I am so pleased to be back again after so many years. And had hoped to share my thoughts with you. As some of you may know I am a citizen of the world. I have spent my life seeking, by land and sea, the antique wisdom of Brahmans, gymnosophists, magi, astrologers, priests, mystics and healers in places as far flung as Hispania, Arabia, Aegyptus, Asia, Cyprus, Syria, Mesopotamia, Asia, India and more. And I have learned much and wished to share with you what I have learned in the hope that I could make your lives better.

But today I must speak out against tyranny. The Emperor Domitian has issued a warrant for my arrest for treason and wishes that I inform upon my friends--"

There was a murmur of astonishment throughout the crowd and some trepidation, for it was death to speak ill of the emperor.

"I have been counseled by the well meaning to make myself scarce, but that is not my way. I have always preached that one should stand up for the truth and not to fear the consequences. I have raised the standard of liberty, and at the moment she is on trial--shall I desert her and prove myself a hypocrite? If so, of what friendship am I worthy after having thus betrayed my friends into the hands of the executioner? My life is not necessary; to go to Rome my conscience tells me is. I shall therefore be true to myself and shall face the tyrant. I go to Rome! For, as Phrasea Paetus used to say, 'I had rather be killed today than go into voluntary exile tomorrow.'

And so my fellows I leave you, and, should I not return, know that my spirit will always be with you. Remember, we should love one another. All mortals should live like one, united, and peacefully working toward the common good. You should regard the whole world as your country, a country where the best govern, with common laws and no racial distinctions. I do not separate people, as many narrow-minded others do. I am not interested in the origin or race of citizens; I only distinguish them on the basis of their virtue. For my part, I consider all, whether they be white or black, equal. That is my message."

A handful of disciples surrounded Apollonius as he left the square and entered a portico on Curates Street headed toward the harbor. Disgruntled murmurings died out as the crowd dissipated.

"What did you think?" Damon asked.

"Impressive," Lucius replied.

"Some say he is the Christus."

"Hmm. What do you think?"

"I doubt it; for the Christus, if he existed, was just a man who was an appeaser with tyrants while, as you heard, Apollonius defies them. And Apollonius dresses as a commoner while the Christus was said to have worn only the finest raiment, dwelled with the rich and charged his converts a fee."

"Doesn't Apollonius hobnob with the wealthy and stay as a guest in their palaces?"

Damon tossed the question aside with a jerk of his head. "And Apollonius is greater for he can work miracles. He can heal the sick with a wave of his hand, and it is said that he restored to life a girl who had died and was being carried to her grave in a coffin. They say he can disappear and reappear elsewhere instantaneously."

Lucius nodded and placed his arm around Damon's shoulders. "I think we need to fill our cups and eat some blackberries."

*

COMING SOON. THANATOS THE TRIDENT MEETS SOPHRUS THE THRACIAN ON THE SAND IN A FIGHT TO THE DEATH.

Underneath the bold lettering on the wall was a painting of a retiarius and a Thracian locked in mortal combat.

The coming fight was the only talk throughout the empire. Heavy bets were being made, the odds being close, since both fighters were considered of equal skill.

At the palace, the night before their fight, Gaius and Sophrus faced each other across a banquet table loaded with exotic foods and drink. Mingling around them were the wealthy elite of Rome along with foreign dignitaries who had come out of morbid curiosity to see the two famous fighters, one of which would be dead the next day.