 
###### Vegas then Rome

###### Book I of the Sex, Blood & Glory trilogy

##### by B.E. Lore

##### Published by Time Warden

##### Copyright 2016 B.E. Lore

##### Cover art by Jacqueline Law

##### License Notes – thank you for downloading this eBook. This book remains the property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoy this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite online retailer. Thank you for your support.

##### Acknowledgement \- I would like to thank Dianne for her support, Jacquie for her artwork, Neil for his funny lines, Liz and Jessica for improving my writing, and finally Lisa for reading my draft and giving me the encouragement I needed to continue.

##### Notes to you, the reader – 1. Because this novel operates in two timelines moving at different speeds, you will find beneath each chapter heading the dates, and occasionally times, for ancient Rome and the future. 2. Regarding speech patterns, characters from the future will use contractions such as 'I'll' and 'shouldn't' for faster speech flow, conveying their hurried pace of life. However when speaking in the Roman tongue, such characters will not use contractions as they adjust to the ancient world. When coupled with the Leluuwahn frequent use of 'yes' and 'no', it can allow the reader to identify characters without the need for 'she said / he said'.

##### Also out now by B.E. Lore:

###### 1,000 Years in 20

###### Book II of the Sex, Blood & Glory trilogy

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Nate's First Night

Chapter 2 Gaius is Saved

Chapter 3 Found by the Lost

Chapter 4 The Proposal

Chapter 5 Vegas Then Rome

Chapter 6 A Bumpy Landing

Chapter 7 Aub's Razor Whip

Chapter 8 New Masters

Chapter 9 Jane Goes to the Palace

Chapter 10 Bart Catches Up with Nate

Chapter 11 The Toilet and the Bath

Chapter 12 Aelia's Little Secret

Chapter 13 Nate Catches Up with Bart

Chapter 14 Publius, Amanda, and Lucius

Chapter 15 Agrippina and Jane

Chapter 16 Sarai's Ride

Chapter 17 Pomponia

Chapter 18 Glade, the Lost, and Porcia

Chapter 19 The Glory of Rome

Chapter 20 Milonia to Wed

Chapter 21 Jane Starts her Plans

Chapter 22 Nate, Wax, and Scented Soap

Chapter 23 Scaevola's Sex Education

Chapter 24 Enticing

Chapter 25 The Potion

Chapter 26 Glade and the Lost

Chapter 27 A Little Misunderstanding

Chapter 28 A Walk and a Chat with Aelia

Chapter 29 Dinner with the Emperor

Chapter 30 Cicero

Extract from Book II – 1,000 Years in 20

Front Cover

Julia –youngest sister of the Emperor Caligula, and as a Vestal Virgin, off limits to any man.

Spartacus \- slave, gladiator, and hero to the spectators of the amphitheatrum.

Spine and Back Cover of paperback

Nate – when aiming to find a forever girl, his life takes an unexpected turn.

Back Cover of paperback

Hornia \- a palace courtesan whose thirst for knowledge is invigorated and hampered by her calling.

Glade - when the girl he loves is enslaved, Glade makes it his mission to rescue her.

# Chapter 1

# Nate's First Night

## Ancient Rome - June 30, 40 CE

## The Future - July 12, 2042

The two frequent the same space, yes. Sos will be pleased that the Lord's plan is in motion with no sign of the Shining One yet.

I

Age lines. They were accelerating across Jane's face in every mirror she used. No matter how many times I chemical peel and ex-fucking-foliate the little shits won't curl up and die. Removing a small vial from her Ghisellini clutch purse, Jane dabbed specks of cream around each eye while listening to two young, plum-in-the-mouth women as they queued behind her to use the nightclub's cramped washbasin and mirror. Daddy's little tramps can wait.

"She looks in her early thirties," one whispered a little too loudly, her nose crinkled in contempt. "Nice purse though."

The second woman raised her eyebrows, nodded in Jane's direction, she heard that, and changed the subject. "How was that guy with the square jaw and tousled hair in the red shirt at the bar? Great bum. Not sure about his jeans. Do you think he might be gay?"

"No. I watched where his eyes were going. He's not gay, but I prefer his friend with the round face and full lips."

Oh no. Jane felt a stab of fear in her stomach. A grey hair.

"He looked like husband material, but probably boring in bed. I want a man who needs taming."

"What did you think of the other one?"

"The one with the weak chin? You're joking, aren't you? I ruled him out at first glance."

Square Jaw. I noticed him too. Shoulder-length unruly hair, dark blue eyes, thick chest, and butt-hugging blue jeans with a Lycra crotch. Banish wrinkles, my arse. This cream is making them worse. Jane replaced the cap on the vial, sucked in her non-existent tummy, and unzipped her top to ensure no man would notice the crow's feet at the edges of her eyes. I'll beat the little bitches to him. She was dressed in her finest Dior clothes to camouflage the worst of her past. The daughter of a Kings Cross working girl, pimped from a young age by a drug addled mother unconstrained by maternal instincts, Jane had never experienced the comfort and security of a parent's embrace. Neither had she enjoyed the money her mother promised for the deeds she performed.

Good. Buttman is still there. The owner of the butt hadn't noticed her yet, but he soon would. Jane knew how to seduce a man with a confidant stance and elegant walk. She knew better than most that the promise of what could be was a woman's most powerful weapon to incite a man's interest.

Her prey moved away from the bar, towards the restrooms, and she resolved to examine his firmness on return. I might even audit his two friend's equipment. No. Those two are not on my shopping list. Tonight is not about me. Jane was on a mission for her tennis club, and in Buttman she may have found what they were looking for.

I

Eighteen-year-old Nate with his friends Trev and Bart had spent the afternoon in Sydney watching football. Nate's team, the South Sydney Rabbitoh's, had thrashed cross town rivals the Manly Sea Eagles and his mood and libido needed the attentions of one or more of the provocatively dressed women in the bar. In conflict with his libido was a heart that ached for a keeper, a girl to cuddle and talk to, not a one-night stand.

To attract a keeper I need to be sophisticated. Nate sipped his beer, a Black Old, a dark brew as the name suggests with the burnt taste he enjoyed. What will he order? Nate trained his eyes and ears on a slim, tall, dark haired man in a suit who had just walked up to the bar. A Black Bull neat? The barman poured a straight scotch whisky. I could drink that. His attention returned to the women.

The constant parade of short skirts and low-cut tops created more excitement than his new Lycra-front jeans could hide. While the pants were great for 'advertising,' as Bart had insisted, Nate was concerned they might reveal his enthusiasm. He had disgraced himself with a wet spot once before, and made a prudent dash for the gents to discover his concern had been justified.

Shit. He untucked his shirt and hoped it, and the dimly lit bar, would spare him from embarrassment. Look casual, just look casual. He returned to his mates, grabbed a handful of salted peanuts from a bowl on the bar, I hope they don't feed the butterflies in my stomach, and washed them down with a mouthful of beer. Just look casual.

"Where did you buy that?" Bart pointed to Trev's cream shirt with blue, red, green, and white stripes.

"Like it, do you?" Trev smoothed it out across his chest with his free hand; the other holding his schooner.

"No, I just wanted to know where not to shop." The three shared a laugh.

The nightclub was starting to fill, though for the moment there remained enough room for Bart and Nate to rest one arm each on the bar, Nate with his back to a side wall. In an hour it would be difficult to reach the bar, let alone stand there and drink. Not that Bart would mind; any excuse not to buy a round was fine with him.

Sydney was a multicultural metropolis where all shades of skin could be found. Nate came from convict stock with blue eyes, fair hair, and a golden tan. Bart was Greek and Trev Spanish; both Aussie by birth.

"So, did you manage to blow yourself up again this week, Nate?" Bart sipped his beer and waited for the answer.

Nate was an apprentice at a fireworks factory an hour north of Sydney. "No...well...almost."

"Almost? You need to change jobs before you kill yourself, mate." Trev placed a hand on Nate's shoulder. "What happened this time?"

"Well, you remember how I didn't secure the mortar properly and the rocket took off sideways instead of shooting into the sky?"

"And raced towards you to explode above your head." Bart laughed. "You idiot!"

"This time I didn't pack the gunpowder properly, and the rocket misfired and landed near my feet."

"It exploded near your feet? Better than near your head, I guess," said Trev shaking his.

"Well ... not really. It ignited another rocket that exploded over the office, and then my boss exploded and fired me."

"Fired you? It's probably for the better, Nate. What'll you do now?" Trev knew Nate struggled to pay his rent on an expensive apartment on Pauls Corner in Gosford. The apartment overlooked the Brisbane Waters, a Pacific Ocean inlet an hour north of Sydney.

"I don't know. Maybe I could..."

"Excuse me, boys." A cougar pressed her lithe body between the three mates. Facing Bart and Trev with her back to Nate, she positioned herself for maximum body contact with Nate as she reached to the bar and plucked a single peanut from a bowl to place it on her outstretched tongue. You do have a weak chin. She looked down her nose at Bart while pressing her leather-clad buns into Nate's crotch.

Although Bart and Trev were no innocents, Nate was still a virgin. Her bottom against his groin made his chest tighten and his Lycra crotch stretch, consigning consideration of his financial difficulties to another day. Her skinny bum feels good. Though Nate preferred the sight of a full-bodied and curvaceous woman, he longed to grab this one's love handles to pull her closer. She beat him to it, reaching around with her left hand to squeeze his left buttock. Wow. She has to be feeling my bone. Her stilettos had Jane's bottom at Nate's crotch height, and the perfume of her dark hair encouraged him to close his eyes and imagine more.

"Yes." The word slipped out before Nate could stop it. He was thankful nothing else escaped before it should. Feeling her move away, he opened his eyes to watch her bottom sway it's way to the other end of the bar.

I

Not too drunk yet, Jane thought as she sat on a bar stool. He rose to the occasion the moment I touched him, and he felt more than adequate. Some lingering eye contact and he's mine tonight.

Jane had no concern for social diseases. She had the latest antibot dispenser implanted in her stomach to slowly release magical little gizmos into her body for the next twenty years. With the human genome having been mapped years before, the antibot robots roamed her body to kill everything that did not belong. Each antibot lasted only a month and was programmed to exit the body via urine after twenty-one days. The antibots were expensive but well worth the cost for nouveau riche Jane. To rise from the gutter and gain respectability she had found and killed a rich husband, then moved to another to play the same game. They screw me; I screw them. Tonight she had a different deed to perform. She signalled the bartender to give her another 'double screw'; a sweet and bitter fusion of Cointreau and orange juice.

I

"Did you enjoy that?" Trev smiled at Nate.

"You're kidding, aren't you? You can't be into grannies, Nate."

"He's a virgin, you dickhead."

"Keep your voice down. I don't want the world to know that."

"No one's paying any attention to us," Trev said with an eye on a passing mini skirt.

"She is." Nate pointed to the thin, stylish woman in designer clothes who had rubbed herself against him. There is nothing cheap about her.

"Don't worry; she can't hear us from over there. Are you going to try for her?" Trev looked to the other end of the bar where the woman now sat. He knew Nate wanted a keeper, not a one-night stand, and he offered some quiet advice. "It's better to know what to do before you meet the one you want."

Nate's heart and crotch continued their argument, while his head determined Trev's advice to be sound. "Do you think she'd be interested?"

"Are you kidding?" Bart turned his back to the bar and spread his arms lazily across it. "That one would take all three of us on board if she could, but at her age she'd be drier than the Simpson Desert and more capable than sandpaper of wearing a hole in your dick."

"Bullshit. How would you know that?" asked Trev.

"Hey...I know. I spent a night with a cougar at the Melbourne Grand Prix. Not as stylish but as slim as the one over there, probably the same age, about fifty, and she was so dry she wore a hole in my dick. I know."

"That one," Trev nodded down the bar, "is not fifty. She'd be in her mid-thirties at most. Honestly Bart, you've got more tickets on yourself than the floor of a betting office. Women are like cars; you need to turn them on before you drive them. A little foreplay helps."

"Hey, I know how to turn them on, and drive them, but the older they get, the drier they get, Drooper."

"That only happened once, and I was drunk." Trev skulled the last of his beer and asked for another.

Nate had one ear in the conversation and both eyes on the cougar. She held my bum. He took a mouthful of beer to calm his jangling nerves. It did not work; his heart pounded harder. No. Don't do it. Wait for a keeper. But her fulsome breasts, barely contained by a purple blouse only zippered to half-mast, had ensnared his eyes. Adjusting his crotch to hide his enthusiasm, Nate glanced down to check for a wet spot.

Thank Christ for that. The one that had been there, if still present, was no longer visible against the dim lighting. He looked back to the cougar's chest, then lifted his eyes to her face. SHIT. She's smiling at me. He looked away and swigged his beer. When he looked back her smile was wider. SHIT. Blood was rushing to his face as much as his crotch, while sweat poured from his brow. What do I do?

"You want to ball her, don't you? Don't do it, mate. See that one over there?" Bart pointed to a bottle-blonde with a cheeky smile, flat chest, broad bottom, and weightlifter thighs in a shorter than short skirt. "She'll be a better ride. The ones with walnuts for breasts are keen to please, and once you've ridden a big bum you'll never look at a full bodied wench the same way again. She's bodacious." At twenty-three, Bart had been with enough women to believe he was an expert on them all, and enjoyed embellishing his achievements.

"Bodacious? What does bodacious mean?" I wish I had Bart's knowledge of women.

"You know—smart, daring, confident, that sort of thing. She'd be a tiger in the sack." If I had your looks, Nate, I could get any woman I want.

Although Trev had experienced female company across three continents, his understanding of women was like that of most men; limited. He worked for his parents as a barista in their café. As their only child they allowed him the freedom to take holidays on a moment's notice when a cheap airfare was found. He had already travelled to Europe and Asia.

"Oh yeah, Mr Experience?" Trev was still stewing over Bart's 'Drooper' comment. "You know everything about women but you can't keep a girlfriend."

Trev's prescient assumption regarding Bart's lack of foreplay had begun to raise the hairs on Bart's back, but his observation of Bart's inability to maintain a relationship had cut too close to the bone. Bart's last three girlfriends had dumped him, leaving him with a damaged ego he veiled with bravado.

"I know what women want. They want a strong man telling them what to do. After all, God made them for our entertainment; it's in the bible. Eve was for Adam's entertainment. Cooking, cleaning, and sex, and not necessarily in that order."

"I'm not a believer, but I don't think He quite meant it like that," Nate countered.

"I am a believer, and there is no way He meant that." Trev attended church most Sundays.

"Yeah, well I think He did, and if you want to prove me wrong then have a chat with Him and get back to me."

"If ever I meet Him, or His son, I will." Not likely though, Nate thought, not believing he would be accepted into a heaven that did not exist, or travel back two thousand years to meet Christ.

"You don't need to meet them, just talk to them. Millions do every day."

Nate shrugged off Trev's suggestion.

Trev reached out for a change of subject. "If you want to try for her, have another drink to calm your nerves first. No more than one or you'll end up doing less than you can. Too much and you will wake up with a head that feels like it's spent the night in a vice."

"A Berocca can fix that. But listen, dickhead, like I said before: don't go for the old one. Go for the fat-bottomed blonde in the mini skirt over there."

Nate had no love for being called a dickhead, and his libido was unconcerned for what Bart and Trev thought; it knew what it wanted. Maybe just once before I find my keeper.

"Hey, is that Miss Dobson over there?" Bart pointed to another cougar with long, wavy brunette hair with an improbably large bosom.

"I think it is." Trev rubbed his chin. The three remembered Miss Dobson well from their home economics classes at school. Her knitting lessons had been a favourite amongst the boys. With a level tone and a devilish look in her eye, she would reach around from behind to assist with difficult stitches. Being petite, her arms barely reached around to the boys' needles, requiring her ample bosom to press into their backs to correct their technique.

"Wouldn't I like to cast on with her." Bart remembered his knitting terminology. "I always wanted to put my face in those breasts."

"Didn't we all?" Trev's chest and nether region were rising. "I'd love to knit one and purl two with her." He and Bart watched Miss Dobson walk to the powder room. "Hey Nate, do that trick where you touch your tongue to your nose." With Miss Dobson gone Trev noticed Nate's eyes were still captivated by the cougar.

"Why?"

"Sometimes you have to walk through the rain to get to your rainbow." It was a line Trev had heard at his great grandmothers' funeral.

I hoped tonight doesn't wash away my dream of finding a keeper.

I

Nice length. I could make use of that. Jane licked the rim of her cocktail glass while admiring Nate's oral dexterity. To her the three young men were like characters in a familiar movie, their body language and expressions betraying their thoughts. One made out he knew everything. Another not so certain, while the last was controlled by a desire to lose his face in her bulging breasts, falsely advertised by her gel bra.

Brushing up against the boy had confirmed he was fit. Keep his eyes interested, Jane pushed her chest out, and he will be mine tonight, and tomorrow if his performance warrants a second interview. She looked down as she slowly lowered her zip below her bra. When she looked up, his eyes are dinner plates.

"Another drink, ma'am?" the bartender asked.

"Choc malt."

"Pardon? We don't serve milkshakes here, ma'am."

The bartender went unheard; Jane was moving towards Nate with the poise of a supermodel, her hips and breasts in predator mode. Facing him, she reached to the bar to place another peanut on her tongue, then pressed him against the wall with her body knowing her gaping top and bra would reveal some areola. From the boy's wide-eyed look, he may have popped his cork in his pants.

Snuggling her left arm through his right, Jane walked Nate from the bar with her long, dark hair trailing behind her. She gave his bottom a slap and squeeze as they stepped out onto the street. Men love having their buns squeezed.

"You look great in that outfit. Oh shit." Nate, oblivious to his path and the cold night air, had stumbled over an empty beer bottle.

Jane shivered against the frigid night air, holding tight to Nate's arm. He's so warm.

I

"She's going to eat him alive." Bart sighed.

"I'm sure he hopes so." As his mate and the cougar disappeared out the door, Trev turned his attention to Miss Dobson.

I

"They have met Sos, yes. I suspect they retire to couple."

"Good. Follow them, Buzzeere. We must do as our Lord instructs. Have you felt the Shining One's presence, seen his sign, yes?"

"No." And I hope not to. I have no need of mischief on my first quest. The red sky of Lucifer had not been present since Buzzeere had arrived in the future. He opened his eyes to end the telepathy, and flew through Sydney's skyline to continue manipulating the young man at the centre of his Lord's scheme.

I

"Your lips are so soft and tasty," Nate said through their tangled tongues.

Flavoured lipstick works every time. Now in her hotel room on Park Street, Jane unlaced Nate's pants to lead her latest boy toy by his strings to the living room. She stood him on a chair and noticed a dark spot on his pants. It was barely noticeable on the black Lycra, but it was there. Primed for passion already. She pulled his pants down and...

"Sponge Bob underwear?"

"Oh...they...they hug me nicely." Bugger.

Jane dropped Sponge Bob to Nate's ankles. Tan lines. Didi won't like that.

Nate kicked his pants and underwear away while Jane enclosed his firmness in one hand and cradled his testicles in the other to achieve the sense of power she craved.

"Thank Christ for that." With his pants off, Nate no longer had need of concern for a wet spot.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

First it was 'Yes,' then I'm 'soft and tasty' and now it's 'Thank Christ.' The boy can't control his tongue. The tennis club will help him there. Jane began inspecting him for tell-tale signs of disease, not that she need worry with antibots coursing through her veins. The inspection was a residual habit from her mother's teachings in Kings Cross. "You're a virgin, aren't you?"

"Umm...well..."

He can't think what to say. Hold their balls and you hold their brains. With his erect manhood at her head height, Jane opened her mouth in a wide, yawning motion, and relaxed her tongue to the bottom of her mouth to welcome all of him in, just as her mother had taught her. It was an age-old and effective technique.

# Chapter 2

# Gaius is Saved

##

## Ancient Rome - June 30, 40 CE

## The Future - July 12, 2042

Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, Emperor of Rome, beloved by his people as Caligula, lay upon a featherdown mattress under a purple silk sheet within his marble line bedroom, unconscious and approaching death. His falling sickness, endured since birth, had progressed. Tumbling from his favourite horse in the morning, still unconscious at early evening, the young emperor's physician, Hippocrates, had diagnosed his passing by nightfall.

Caligula's three sisters, contrary to custom of selection before puberty, had been raised to Virgins of the Temple of Vesta by his decree. They could mend their brothers injuries by allowing him to inhale the smoke from the burning leaves of their sacred bush, but to do so would unbalance him; temple scrolls recorded the descent into madness of untrained minds who inhaled the smoke. Given their brother's unfettered imperial powers, he could unleash a malevolence across the known world. Rome would not prosper under a crazed ruler, and his hunger for the sacred smoke could exhaust the temple's hoard of the slow-growing plant.

"Of what do you speak, my daughters?" Agrippina was sitting at her son's side, holding his hands between hers. A once strong but now ailing woman, her breathing was shallow.

"We pine at the impending loss of our brother and emperor." Agrippina the Younger, eldest of the sisters, was petite, slim and promiscuous, and a near twin to her second sibling.

"My hearing is not as weak as you think. This bush you speak of ... it is from your temple?"

Julia Livilla, last from her mother's womb, confirmed Agrippina's suspicion with a nod, only to receive admonishing looks from her siblings. It was known to all that the Virgins tended the eternal flame of their city, a flame fuelled by Aleppo pine, Cherry laurels, and Mediterranean olive, a flame essential for the security of Rome. But none outside the temple knew of their sacred bush and the properties of the smoke from its burning, a smoke that could heal, a smoke used cautiously to train the minds of prospective Vestalium Maxima's, the greatest of Vestal's, to enable them to transcend base instincts on their path to a higher consciousness. Julia Livilla, who had not consumed the sacred smoke, looked down and fidgeted with the red and white ribbons tied at her waist, ribbons that signified her importance to Rome as a Virgin. She often clashed with her sisters over their promiscuity, her chaste ways, and her loyalty to familia versus their deference to temple and city. Physically she was also their reverse, her curvaceous figure the subject of derision by her skeletal sisters.

"How can you even consider withholding aid from your emperor? You will make the necessary preparations for healing my son ... now."

"If you heard our conversation, Mother, you would know that the sacred smoke cannot be inhaled by the untrained. Gaius will grow mad and die, taking others with him as he abuses his authority," Agrippina the Younger explained.

"Your lack of faith in your brother saddens me. He has survived the murders of his father and brothers to become the sole male survivor of our familia. He protected us from your great uncle Tiberius during our years of imprisonment." Agrippina struggled to recover her breath and stave off the tightness in her chest. "With scant training he has become the most loved emperor Rome has seen, restoring democratic elections, abolishing taxes, and ceasing the treason trials Tiberius foolishly embarked upon while simultaneously constructing roads, temples and aqueducts. Far more projects has he in planning, and yet you deem it prudent to allow your brother to pass from this world?"

"It is pointless to rescue him from death, only for him to kill and be killed." Julia Drusilla looked for and received approval from her elder sister. "He will endanger Rome, Mother. We must be practical. Our duty is to Rome."

"Your emperor is Rome, and it will take a strong man, with strong accomplices, to slay him," though Rome has no dearth of such men. Agrippina's shallow breathing quickened as her passion to save her son's life rose.

"Please calm yourself, Mother." Julia Livilla placed a hand on her mother's shoulder. "It does you no good to—"

"Perhaps Uncle Claudius could assume the mantle of emperor? That could satisfy the Temple and the Senate." Julia Drusilla preferred compromise to conflict.

"Your uncle is weak, both of mind and body, and he lacks the support of the legions. Banish from your thoughts all concern for others when your brother and emperor has need of you. He is admired by all from the rising to the setting of the sun, and has lifted you to the high station of Vestal, a station many are aware that two of you are unworthy of. Try as you may, the flaunting of one rule with open legs cannot be offset by championing another with closed hearts. Gaius deserves your aid. He deserves every assistance his subjects can give. You are his subjects; your temple is part of his empire. Your emperor DEMANDS your assistance."

"You cannot speak for him, Mother." Agrippina the Younger stared down her nose at her mother. How dare you chastise those who tend the Sacred Flame. "No one speaks for the emperor without his permission."

"I have spoken for him since his birth. You and your temple have the obligation to heal him for the good of Rome. If he does turn mad as you say, then as a familia, we will protect him as he has protected us."

"I agree with Mother," Julia Livilla whispered with the firmness of a field mouse, "and when we use the bush on Gaius, we should also allow mother to inhale the sacred smoke."

"Thank you Julia. At least one of my daughters has compassion, but no. Gaius must have it all."

"I do not think you understand, Mother. If we..."

"Do it!" Agrippina ordered her namesake, her chest heaving from the effort.

All the sisters bowed their heads, yielding yet troubled by the mind bending properties of the sacred bush on their brother. Julia Drusilla closed her eyes. He declared his horse Incitatus a senator when sane. What madness will an unreasoned Gaius inflict upon Rome?

II

Dangling over the edge of the Tarpeian Rock, held back from death by the loving hands of his mother and youngest sister, Gaius burned under a scorching sun as he struggled to find a toehold on the face of the cliff.

His other two sisters stood with arms crossed, watching, offering no aid. If ever I regain the summit I will punish them both. I will rain every plague possible upon them, and every reward in my grasp for Mother and my beloved Julia Livilla; praise be to Jupiter they are here for me.

In the background stood his Uncle Claudius. Physically weak, mentally delicate, he does not stand with me. A more wretched creature one could not find yet those two think him capable of leadership.

My strength fails, yet Mother and Julia remain my bulwarks. Their love will save me from the rocks below. They are forever my safe harbour.

Agrippina brushed stray hairs away from her son's face to place them behind his ear, then gently stroked his cheek with her thumb. Oh Mummy. The moment returned Gaius to is childhood, to the comfort she had provided after the death of his father. I must fight as hard as they to save the life of their emperor.

# Chapter 3

# Found by the Lost

##

## Ancient Rome - June 30, 40 CE

## The Future - July 12, 2042

Balbina was one of dozens of Lost on watch, waiting to rescue the young unwanted trash of the Empire. Each rescue brought the same sadness to Balbina. Her heart was soft to every child rescued, while every rescue hardened her heart against Rome.

Abandonment of unwanted children was nothing new; it had been common for centuries. Romulus, founder of the great city, had himself been abandoned as a baby. If Romulus could rise to greatness, then the Lost knew any child rescued could achieve it.

Over the centuries, most abandoned infants had deformities. Missing fingers, hands, toes or feet. Arms and legs deformed; spines twisted. No eyes. A torso out of proportion with its limbs. Regardless of a child's problem, abandoned newborns became part of the Lost, as Balbina had two decades earlier. She had been wrapped in purple silk, a mark of royalty. If ever Balbina found a child wrapped in purple, she would keep it for her own rather than deliver it to her band's crèche.

The Lost, the abandoned who had grown to create communities of their own, considered every child to be one of them. It was a bond that united them in purpose, if not in society. Their small bands had no government, no royal line as with the Empire. While there were men to lead each band, none of those leaders had the support to lead all the Lost, and without leadership, her people were truly adrift.

Some hoped that one day their numbers would grow to challenge the might of the Empire. Only a few guessed that numbers would not be enough. They would need a leader to rally behind and weapons to fight with. Weapons need artisans to craft them, and of those they had none.

Babies without obvious flaws were rarely discarded. But today's boy was an exception. Physically perfect, his blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin told of Germanic lineage, yet his white silk blanket, fringed in leopard skin and embroidered with an eagle in a corner was clearly from a patrician familia.

"Y-y-y-you will be s-s-safe with m-me, Me-Me-Medeely." Cradling him against her generous bosom, twenty-year-old Balbina would give Medeely a mother, something she had never experienced in her crèche. He would feel secure, safe, and special. He was not in purple, but he was in silk, and that was enough for Balbina.

# Chapter 4

# The Proposal

##

## Ancient Rome - June 30, 40 CE

## The Future - July 13, 2042

"Next time you can get your own fucking breakfast."

"What?"

It was morning, and having left Nate asleep in her hotel room, Jane had just returned from McDonalds. She dumped the food and coffee on a bedside table, ran fingers through her long mane to tame the damage done by an early morning breeze, and ripped back the bed sheets to admire her heavy-eyed boy toy. There were bruises and marks on his torso she had not noticed the night before. I didn't put those there, though the scratches are mine. With his muscular physique and cool demeanour during pain, he probably plays one of the rugby codes. To Jane, the marks heighten his masculinity. This boy is a piece of art those two young bitches last night could only dream of bedding. The businessmen at the Cross, and her two dead husbands, were never this good. He had the strength to pick me up and lower me onto his tongue. Jane slapped and squeezed his bottom.

Where am I? The fog in Nate's head began to clear. Memories of the night before, the first time he had been with a woman, rushed to him. After enjoying her mouth, she had manoeuvred him into a warm shower to gel him up and shave his privates. Not bothering to wash the gel away, she rode him like a thoroughbred's jockey, using her stilettos as spurs to steer him around the room and back to the bed. Nate ran a hand across his butt and viewed his palm through squinted eyes.

No more blood ... and no cuddle to wake me, just a slap on the bum, but how wrong was Bart about the cougar? I'm no virgin now. Nate rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head. Her demonic howls released me from that embarrassment. She looks good in the morning after sounding like a daughter of Lucifer last night. I wonder if I'm as good in bed as she made me sound. She?... Shit. What's her name? "Good morning."

"They only had one service line open, and in front of me was a man-scented, metro sexual piece of white middle-aged male mediocrity taking orders for coffee from his prissy, blinged up, manicured, bitch of a wife. Women aren't attracted to men that are easily pushed around, boy." And the bastard was holding a little girl's hand. The sight always put Jane on edge with memories of her past.

"Really." It sounds like the poor guy was just buying his wife a coffee.

"Then three pillow-biters walked up behind me discussing the coffee they were going to order. One faggot said he wanted a non-fat, sugar-free vanilla latte, another a non-fat mocha frappuccino, and the last little bum chum said he wanted a non-fat, half-caffe something or other with skim fucking milk. They probably all wanted non-fat because they gave each other too much fat last night."

"Right." How do I respond to that? And vanilla? Jane flavours herself with vanilla. Jane! That's her name. Wow. She woke me up in the middle of the night in a 69er position, her bald, vanilla coated pussy on my face. What were the flavours inside? Caramel, banana, chocolate with choc malt so deep I could barely get my tongue onto it, despite having picked her up to turn her around.

"And when I finally got to the counter the little islander girl could barely understand English, let alone speak it. She must have walked straight from the canoe to the counter. I hope she got my coffee right. I didn't see the coconut make it." With global warming causing sea levels to rise, Pacific Islanders had been making their way to Australia.

So she doesn't like men, women, straights, gays, whites or blacks? This woman is definitely no keeper. Last night's high-class Jane has performed a reverse metamorphosis to change from a butterfly to the devil worshipper she sounds like during orgasm.

"Not very PC, am I?"

You sound like Dad.

"All those PC fucking Nazis ever do is piss off the silent majority like me to keep the whinging minorities happy. Screw them."

Yep, just like Dad with a few more expletives. I couldn't take her home to meet Mum. Nate tried never to use the F word, having promised his mother not to swear. "What did you buy?" Maybe a change of subject will bring last night's classy woman at the bar back.

"I bought you a cappuccino and a bacon-and-egg McMuffin. Now get the coffee table from the lounge room and place it at the end of the bed."

"Sounds good." Not much of a meal. I would have preferred a hot chocolate and three bacon-and-egg McMuffins. He retrieved the coffee table as demanded. "What did you get for yourself?"

"A triple espresso."

"Only coffee?"

"Hot and strong," Jane said as she moved their breakfast onto the table. With her hands now free, Jane whacked and squeezed Nate's bare arse and made a show of stripping off before picking up the TV remote. "I think this thing controls your crotch too," she said, pointing the remote towards his erection. "Now get on the bed."

"Get on there yourself, face down, head at the TV end," Nate said, returning with interest the whack and squeeze Jane had delivered. "Women do not like servile men." Screw you.

Jane stared at him for a moment. He has a forceful tongue in more ways than one. "You learn quickly, boy, but don't expect to get away with it every time." She looked him up and down, then lay on the bed as instructed, spread her legs just a little while propping herself up on her elbows, Jane's eyes only leaving him when she reached for her coffee.

Nate picked up his breakfast and climbed aboard her bottom. Shit. I can't get in. He placed his McMuffin on her back, spread her cheeks with both hands and pushed a little harder.

"Some foreplay normally helps, dear."

"Oh. Sorry." That's what Trev said. Oh well ... I think ... a little further down ... push a bit harder ... yes, I'm in now. As Nate settled into a rhythm, munching on his McMuffin, Jane settled into her coffee as they both watched the Sunday Morning Business Show, hosted by big-breasted Tina Totter.

"Why are politicians always arguing? Why can't they stop playing politics and just run the country?" Sometimes I'd like to punch those guys in the head.

"Because they have to play politics to achieve and maintain their position, dear. No position, no power, no running the country." The naivety oh! ... and vigour of youth.

Makes sense I guess. Tina looks nice in sky blue, and the show interested him, especially the conversations regarding military tensions in Asia. Japan had accused China of locking weapon-guiding radar on naval ships. North Korea was suffering food shortages and had sent warplanes in and out of South Korean air space to deflect attention from its problems. India and Pakistan were engaged in an escalating skirmish in their long running border dispute, and China was becoming more assertive in its claim to resource-rich waters owned by the Philippines and Vietnam. With China's military budget larger than US military spending, the Chinese could defeat all other Asian nations combined.

Where will it all end? Nate thought as he devoured his bacon-and-egg McMuffin.

"Nate...NATE."

"Huh?"

"Lost interest, have you?" Jane twisted around, balancing on an elbow to glare at him.

"No, no. This is interesting. Bit of a worry though. The problems in Asia remind me of the situation in Europe in the early 1900s. Lots of issues over many years between different countries eventually allowed a relatively small incident in Kosovo to escalate into World War 1. In Asia, if something happens to draw the US or Europe into shielding an alley from Chinese aggression, it could erupt into nuclear war. And if that happens..."

"Into wars and current events, are you?"

"Yes. I studied modern history at school, and ..."

"At the moment I would prefer you were a bit more into me. Your artillery's gone soft, dear."

"Huh...oh." His eyes met hers. "I'm on it." Nate swallowed the last of his McMuffin and coffee, handed the empty coffee cup to Jane who threw it on the floor. Working to revive his flagging excitement, Tina's breasts helped but the potential for war weighed on his mind. Another distraction were the advertisements for hypersonic airliners, and fusion-powered tourism to the moon. I'd love to go there. Fortunately, he was still firm enough to be inside her, but his gun wasn't completely out of its holster yet.

And then Betty, the prissy platinum blonde weather woman with a mouth so tight it appeared she disapproved of everything came to his rescue. What an arse. Nate ogled the profile of Betty's butt as she briefed her audience on the day's forecast weather. She always wears the tightest skirts, always purple, and they hug her prominent buns to perfection with never a panty line in sight. It's a G-string or nothing for Betty.

"I know what I would like to brief her on," Nate said, and immediately regretted it.

"And what would that be?"

"That she...ah...presents her..." don't say bum, "weather well."

It seems Betty has reloaded his gun. "She does have a great arse, doesn't she?"

"Ah...yes?"

"You'd like to jump on it, wouldn't you"?

Yes, and ride it into the sunset while sucking on Tina's tits but I'm not telling you that. Anyway, you're the one who turned the TV on, not me. It's not my fault I'm screwing you while thinking of her. What am I doing with you anyway? I want a keeper not a Devil worshiper.

Jane smiled at his silent discomfort, and reached around to withdraw his now well-oiled manhood and slide him up and down between her buttocks. That's right. Pretend my arse is Betty's.

Is she going to...? Nate held his breath, his heart pounding.

Looking into eyes that were focused on her hand, Jane slid him slowly down between her cheeks to slip him into...where he had come from. Give him a hint, a suggestion of hope for his innermost desire and you can string a man along for years. No way is he diving into my anus.

Oh well. Nate breathed again and pushed himself in all the way. It does feel good in there.

"You love the shape of her arse, don't you? Her skirt hugging her hips and buttocks tantalises you, doesn't it?"

"You feel great," he said as his mind's eye screwed Betty.

Jane pushed back. "Go on. Give it to her, and suck on Tina's big nipples." She reached around and placed a finger in his mouth.

Hmm. Vanilla. How does she know Tina has big nipples? Nate regularly watched the Sunday Morning Business Show and had never noticed Tina's nipples through her conservative tops. Screwing Jane while sucking on her vanilla finger while watching Betty and Tina, knowing that Jane knew he was thinking about screwing Betty and Tina, and knowing that Jane was OK with that was...well...this is unbelievable. It wasn't long before Nate tumbled from Jane onto his back to relax in his afterglow.

Jane needed no rest. She hopped off the bed, downed the remnants of her coffee, put on and zipped up her top, strode to the bathroom to refresh herself, and returned to randomly shove the remainder of her clothes in a bag. After tucking her hair under a skullcap made from a stocking, she donned a long blond wig and oversized hoop earrings. Wrap-around sunnies finished an outfit that transformed her into a 1960s sex kitten. Wearing only a top, stilettos, wig, earrings and sunglasses, Jane slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door without a word to Nate.

She's leaving? "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Wearing no pants?"

"Makes for an exciting trip."

Probably would, and not just for you. "Where's home?"

With a wry smile and a look of satisfaction, Jane left him hanging momentarily.

"Get your pants on, stud, if you need to, and I'll take you there too." She wiped the cream off his cappuccino'd top lip before sitting down to cross her legs and tap fingers on her phone in a chair by the door.

What should I do? First, he had never wanted a one-night stand, and if she left now he would feel used. Maybe we could spend the day together? Second, although he wasn't playing today due to a strained calf muscle, his coach expected him to turn up to the game. What would my teammates do?

You look way out of your comfort zone, boy. Jane stashed her phone in her bag. The tennis ladies are going to love you.

IV

I can't believe this. Nate was standing beside Jane in the corridor outside their hotel room, she wearing no pants and no underwear, while he wore discomfort. Nate held his breath as the elevator door opened.

The lift was empty.

Thank Christ for that. Nate breathed again. They entered the lift and Jane pressed the button for the level-two car park. How many people will get in on the way down? None did; the lift did not stop until it reached their destination where the door opened to expose two middle-aged men holding hands, one short and chubby, the other tall and skinny wearing sunglasses. Jane exited the lift and turned right.

"That's Bald Barbara," the skinny one said, jumping up and down and clapping his hands. "We should try that, Marvin. I want to do it. I want to do it."

"Ring-a-ding-ding," Marvin enthused, uninterested in Jane, his eyes expressing his appetite for Nate. "What a shame his bulging Lycra-front pants are on." Marvin puffed out his chest and assumed what he thought was a butch pose while his partner Henry chuckled and snapped photos of Jane with the camera in his glasses.

Nate reflexively squeezed his butt cheeks together. "How does that work?" he said racing to catch Jane. She takes very long strides in those heels. "You're the one walking around with no pants on, and I'm the one getting all the attention."

"They're gay you idiot," Jane said over her shoulder and strode on, accentuating the sway of her tanned buttocks for her paparazzi. The wig and sunglasses blocked her identity as it had when she was younger, servicing the businessmen her mother pimped her to. It was her time with businessmen that taught Jane to enjoy sex, the power to control men, and the thrill of fleecing their wallets with the extras she provided, extras her mother knew nothing of. She learnt that to be truly seductive she needed to allow her inner self to shine through. And businessmen were good business, some wishing only to talk. Listen or screw, the money was the same.

It was losing her virginity to a paedophile she resented most. Jane despised her mother for it and all the men that followed the first, covetous of a pre-pubescent girl. She wanted to cut off their genitals and shove them down their throats for hurting her, and she never saw a cent of the cash her drug-addicted mother had supposedly banked for her.

"Already paid for the room?"

"Account." Jane approached a Volvo station wagon with elegant sweeping lines, its front doors and tailgate opening as she approached. "You drive," she instructed and threw her bag in the rear.

So she's a regular. Nate sat in the driver's seat and pulled the joystick down between his legs. Comfortable in his seat, he pushed a button on the door and the mirrors adjusted themselves to his position. What was the name the skinny one called her? Nate had read stories in the e-papers and heard reports on the radio of a woman seen strutting naked from the waist down around Sydney. The media had nicknamed her "Bald Barbara," in reference to her waxed crotch.

"So where's home, Barbara?"

"Just press the home button on the GPS, dear."

Home was on the leafy north shore of Sydney, guarded by tall, remote-controlled, solid metal gates of Troy. Fuuuuuck! Sorry Mum. A winding red gravel driveway made its way past a blue tennis court, a sandstone-and-glass-enclosed swimming pool and a giant oak tree straining against a now roaring breeze before terminating at a five-car garage.

Jane has serious money. I love that oak tree. One day, some way, I want a home with a tree like that; a home with nature's splendour in my own backyard where kids can climb and birds can sing and with my soul mate build a life for our family.

Nate's wide eyes and open mouth told Jane he was impressed. And so he should be! "Put your tongue back in, stud. I don't want it getting damaged."

The five-car garage contained a vintage white MG, a yellow Porsche, a silver Aston Martin, and a 1970's locally made red Holden Sandman panel van with air-brushed pictures of a scantily clad warrior princess as garish garnishing along the sides. There has to be a bed in the back of that thing. They entered the house through the back door, the only way she hasn't allowed me to enter her, which led to an expansive kitchen occupied by a full bodied girl with peach shaped buttocks facing a microwave oven. Her wafer thin orange and green striped pants were snuggled between her butt cheeks, and Nate could see no bra under her purple and pink checked singlet top. Nice bum. Interesting colour choices.

"Hello, dear."

"Hello, Mummy." The girl put a hand to her chin, and did not turn around. Oh gosh. I should have worn makeup.

Jane has a daughter? She doesn't seem maternal. And Mummy? Talk about north shore.

"I understand you had a good night. Alex rang to say she has organised the tennis club ladies for twelve thirty."

The girl spoke at such a relaxed pace that Nate thought she may not be playing with a full deck. It was around 10:30 a.m., and to him the concept of upper class north shore ladies playing tennis at midday on Sunday was strange. Shouldn't they be sipping cocktails or French champagne, or washing down scones with Devonshire tea with their little fingers sticking out?

"Sarah, this is Nate. Nate, this is my daughter, Sarah." Jane, still naked from the waist down, threw her bag on the kitchen counter for it to slide to a stop next to a toaster.

"Hello, Nate." Sarah remained focused on the microwave's progress.

"Hi." If her face is half as good as her bum she'll be a stunner.

Bing! Whatever was cooking had finished. Sarah removed a mug from the microwave, held it up to her face and turned around.

Nate had difficulty taking his eyes from her free swinging, but not overly large, breasts. When she offered him a hot chocolate he looked up to say, "Ah, no thank you," and noticed a large ruby ring on her right hand. He gave her a brief smile, and to his delight her eyes returned it with warmth. Hazel; what a lovely colour.

Sarah surveyed him over the rim of her mug. That red shirt fits him nicely.

"Would you mind giving Nate a tour of the house while I shower, dear." It was an order, not a request. Sarah had grown up with the privileged lifestyle of a businessman's daughter that Jane, as a child, could only dream of.

Nate shook his head to escape Sarah's eyes. He looked from Sarah to Jane and back again. Does Mummy arrive home half naked so regularly that it doesn't even raise an eyebrow? A pity. With those eyes and that bum Sarah could be a keeper. He admired her bottom as it wobbled its way through a dining room where high-backed chairs ringed a dark timber table. This is like King Arthur's court.

I should have worn different pants. My bottom looks fat in these. I need to get him talking so he doesn't notice. "Did you enjoy your night with Mummy?"

How much does she know? "Your mother's very..." Nate searched for a sentence that did not include exciting, tasty, daring, kinky, imaginative, racist, or homophobic, and came up with "Your mother ... has many facets."

Leaving the dining room they entered a library featuring floor to ceiling bookshelves packed tightly with leather bound tomes.

"Wow. You even have a ladder on rails."

"Do you read, Nate?" Sarah asked as she admired his broad shoulders, lowering her cup and her guard for the first time.

A pretty face too. "Not really. Until recently I was an apprentice at a fireworks factory and read mostly to study. Other than that, only the sports pages." I love your eyes. Wow, and that's a big pimple on your chin. But those hazel eyes ...

"Are you working now?" Sarah turned away, sipping her drink. I think he noticed my pimple. Oh well. He'll see more than that soon.

"No, but something will come along," Nate said trying not to ogle her wobbling bottom, and hopefully soon than later or I'll lose the apartment.

"I read a little. I like fashion and read magazines from television shows like Make Me a Model and Designed for Me. Have you watched them?"

"No." I haven't even heard of them. "There are so many channels these days."

"Well, Designed for Me is really helpful. It shows how each body shape needs its own clothing style and how different colours suit different skin tones. Anyone can go on the show if you're lucky enough to have your name drawn from the barrel. You email your photo, and they determine your body shape. Each week two lucky winners get to star on the show."

You need to pray your name is drawn next, Sarah; that top doesn't match those pants. Despite the poor clothing choices, Nate appreciated the movement of her body within them.

They sailed through a billiard room, Sarah making small talk in between sips of her hot chocolate. On the far side they ascended a curved timber staircase. Nice view; Nate was following. At the top of the stairs was a timber floored hallway with a royal blue runner down its centre. The hall had one door to the right, and one to the left, with a bay window and seat at the far end. Sarah led Nate through the door on the right where a palatial, timber floored bedroom unfolded. At the centre of the room was a dark timbered, four-poster bed with an awning and seating for five on one side.

A bed with a viewing area? Nate stood quietly considering the implications when a message came through on his phone.

It was Trev. 'How did you go? I'm knitting with Ms Dobson ;-)'

Half his luck. I'll bet Ms Dobson is nowhere near as weird as Jane and Sarah.

Nate returned his phone to his pocket, intending to reply later, and looked around. The room was so large and the ceiling so high that the giant bed did not overpower it. Swords, pikes, axes, balls and chains. With the dining room, this place feels like an old English castle. To the right was a cabinet running the length of the wall, punctuated by a door at its centre with a tiled entry. "Bathroom?" he asked for Sarah to nod in reply. A liquor cabinet was against the wall straight ahead, and to the left were windows that overlooked the driveway, tennis court, swimming pool, and his majestic oak tree. From the kitchen to the bedroom, Sarah had spoken in a soft, slow, and reserved tone. Nate had admired her all the way, only half listening to her pleasantries until ...

"It's time to take off your clothes."

"Pardon?" He was listening now.

"I can do it for you if you like."

"Do what for me, Sarah?"

"Take your clothes off, silly."

Nate's mouth was open. The possibility of Sarah being a keeper had evaporated, at least for the moment. This isn't just strange; it's downright kinky. I hope today doesn't turn into a family affair.

"Where's Daddy?" Nate looked to the door.

"Daddy died when I was eight." Sarah placed by mug on the liquor cabinet.

Oh shit. "I'm sorry to hear it," and relieved.

Looking down and away, Sarah spoke softly. "Mummy isn't my real mummy. She married Daddy when I was seven. My real mummy died in a skiing accident when holidaying with Mummy and Daddy when I was six. Mummy then married Daddy, and eight months later Daddy died of a heart attack. Mummy is all the family I have now."

What a sad story. How do I respond to that? "Was Mummy married before she married Daddy?"

"Yes, but her husband was quite old when she married him, and he died of a heart attack shortly after my real mummy died." Sarah had her back to Nate as she spoke, and then turned around with her hands on her hips. "Now...would you like me to take your clothes off, or will you do that yourself?"

What was it Trev said? You have to walk through the rain to get to your rainbow? Enjoy yourself, get some experience, and then resume the search for a keeper. Nate held up his arms and fell into her eyes.

Sarah gently unbuttoned his shirt, running her hands across his chest to drop his shirt to the floor. Nice tan and he works out, but not so much he looks into himself. She was slow and patient, which for Nate was good considering his pecker was low on peck post earlier forays. She guided him to sit on the bed with her hands on his chest. Kneeling to remove his shoes, unlacing each with care, Sarah folded his socks and pushed them inside his shoes. Asking him to stand on the bed, she unzipped his jeans to pull them and his underwear to his ankles.

Just like Mummy did last night. Reaching up to grasp one of the beds timber crossbars, Nate did a chin-up, kicked his clothes away, and his excitement at being naked before her began to show. Landing on his feet on the bed, he reached down and held her chin in one hand. "You have beautiful eyes, Sarah." Maybe you could be a keeper.

"Thank you." He looks strong, but he doesn't sunbake in the nude. Didi won't like his tan lines. She and Mummy will be here soon. If only we were somewhere else, Nate. He released her chin and she dropped her head, biting her bottom lip when she saw his manhood staring up at her. That's big.

Nate looked down as she cradled and massaged his man parts.

"Why does Mummy always do that?" She released him.

"Do what?" Don't stop now. And always?

"Mummy has shaved you. You will be prickly tomorrow. I prefer men to be smooth in my hands."

How many men has she had in her hands? And this mother-daughter thing ... Nate shook his head. I'm out of here once this is finished.

While Nate stood naked in his thoughts, Sarah was busy locking shackles around his ankles. Each shackle had a soft cloth attached that ran to one of the corner posts at the base of the bed. She pushed him off his feet and onto his back, straddled his chest and leant forward to position his arms above his head.

Wow. Sarah's nipples were pressing through her thin cotton top. I'm not the only one who needs to be bound. Nate rolled her over, swapping positions to sit on her chest, his enthusiasm flourishing between her breasts.

Oh my. It's even bigger up close.

Spying the shackles Sarah had intended for his wrists, Nate raised her struggling arms above her head ...

"Wait. We shouldn't..."

... and kissed her. This kiss will keep her quiet. Shackle no. 1 in place. Her lips are so soft.

Sarah twisted her head sideways. "But Nate..."

Nate pushed his tongue down her throat, clicked shackle no. 2 into place, and felt Sarah relax beneath him. She wants this.

Not now. Not yet.

Nate lifted his head and asked, "Now. What were you trying to say?" I think those are bedroom eyes; such a lovely colour.

"The keys to the shackles are in the top drawer of that cabinet over there."

Nate looked to where Sarah was pointing. It was a cabinet to the left of the bathroom. Running his eyes over the length of their bonds he judged they were bound to the bed with no means of escape. Oops.

"I'm so stupid. I should have kept the keys with me."

"You're not stupid. You made a mistake."

"You're just saying that. Mummy and the tennis ladies all say I'm stupid, except Amanda."

"You're not stupid. You're beautiful."

"You don't mean that." Mummy says men lie to get what they want. "Mummy wants me to wax you before she returns."

"Why?" You are beautiful.

"Because Mummy and her friends, our neighbours, may have a work offer for you, and she wants you to look your best. If you're not waxed when her friends arrive she'll get angry with me."

Jane and her neighbours? What type of worker works in the buff? Anyway, I can't have Jane angry with her. "OK. Let's move the bed to the keys."

Shit this is heavy. They had cleared the chairs away and Nate, with his shoulder to the base of the bed and his naked body near parallel to the floor, looked like an American football linebacker as he pushed the bed towards freedom.

Sarah, fully clothed, stood back to admire the view. Oh my but he looks good. When they reached the cabinet, Sarah retrieved the keys, pocketed them, turned and said "I'm so stupid. I moved the keys yesterday. They're in the cabinet under that window." She was pointing to the far side of the room.

You're kidding? Why didn't you think of that earlier? "That's OK. It's not a problem." He sighed, put his shoulder to the other side of the bed, and pushed and pushed and pushed the heavy bed towards the other side of the room.

This is wicked, Sarah put a hand over her mouth, but he looks so good from behind.

When Sarah unlocked them, Nate sat on the bed to regain his breath.

"I need to wax you before Mummy arrives." Sarah raced to the bathroom.

Nate was looking out the window above the cabinet, listening to the sounds of a microwave emanating from the bathroom, when a dark-skinned little man with silver hair in the shape of a teardrop popped his head up and peered through the window. What? Is there a balcony outside? Nate leaped to the window to find no balcony, and no little man.

Sarah re-entered the room with a smile, a bowl, a paint brush, tweezers, and an old fashioned shaving razor that glinted in the bedroom lights. For a moment Nate forgot the little man, his interest piqued by Sarah's razor.

Sarah noticed. "I'll use it to tidy stray hairs once I've finished your waxing. Have you been waxed before?"

"No, and you didn't tell me what kind of work Jane has in mind for me."

"Mummy thinks you'll make a willing lothario."

"Lothario?"

"A gentleman friend."

"You mean a gigolo?"

"Mummy prefers to say lothario."

Am I in a dream or a nightmare?

If only someone like him could want someone like me, and only me. Sarah waxed his front, rolled him over to do the same, and when finished ran her hands over his bare bottom and back to check for stray hairs. Those remaining were plucked with tweezers or sliced by the razor.

She has wonderful hands, beautiful eyes, and this has been fun. I may have a keeper.

"You're ready for inspection," Sarah said with an approving pat on his lily white nice little bottom.

Hearing footfalls in the hallway, stilettos, they have their own sound, Nate turned to see Jane sashay in, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She wore a Zorro mask, a studded leather choker, quarter cup bra, over the knee high heeled boots all in black with a thick silver chain for a G-string that disappeared quickly between her legs. Her stance was wide with her hands on her hips as she asked, "Sarah, why is the bed over there?"

They look sheepish. Where does she keep the keys? "You two idiots managed to lock yourselves onto the bed, didn't you?" For fucks sake. Jane pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head.

Though embarrassed, Nate could not take his eyes from Jane. I'm sitting naked on a bed, next to a girl I could fall in love with, and her mother, the only woman I have ever made love to, walks in dressed so erotically she has me boning up again. Can life get any weirder than this?

The rolling thunder of heels on carpet announced the imminent arrival of more women.

The neighbours? If they're dressed like Jane they're not here for a scones and tea.

Five male fantasies marched single file into the bedroom, identically attired to Jane except for G-strings that matched the martinis they carried, with one fantasy perched on red heels rather than over the knee boots. Each stood straight backed, feet apart, facing chairs Sarah had hurriedly arranged to face the bed.

Wow! Weirder is here. Colour coded women in stilettos. Nate's mouth and eyes were wide as the eye of his manhood stared at them too. "Nice bum."

It can't be mine; mine is too fat.

Yes, the boy loves my buns. My gym time is working.

If only I had Betty's bottom.

He didn't say that about my bottom when I led him here.

At a click of Jane's fingers the ladies pirouetted, sat in unison, and crossed their legs right over left like a team of synchronised swimmers.

"Wow...so many sensational women." A second thought had escaped him, a little quieter, but not quite quiet enough. They weren't all to his liking, but the fact they were dressed to impress gave him a wide smile. Their scent is so feminine.

The seated women preened their hair, and adjusted meagre clothing.

I shouldn't have cancelled the hairdresser yesterday.

This G-string won't cover a fat tummy.

That's a mighty boner he has there.

My thighs look so fat when they're crossed.

"I see you're interested in our new arrivals, Nate, so let me introduce them to you."

Nate stood out of politeness, not bothering to hide himself. No point trying to cover what they've already seen.

"Sarah, get changed. Ladies," Jane said to the scantily dressed gathering. They can't take their eyes from him. "LADIES! This is Nate. Nate, these are the ladies of my tennis club. I suggest you do your best to impress them. Doing so could be lucrative for you."

Lucrative? So the money is good. I wonder if Sarah will return dressed like them. He glanced towards the bathroom.

"On your left, in pink, is Alex." Alex was slim-hipped and middle-aged. "Alex enjoys fencing, taking weekly lessons," and more, "from an Olympic champion."

And I like my men young and fresh. I'll impress you, boy. Alex was on the move the moment Jane mentioned her name, placing her martini on the floor and shouting "Datemi una spada, give me a sword," before retrieving a sword from the wall behind her. She slashed the sword through the air, twirling her way towards him, giving advice as she went. "Stay balanced. Keep your feet apart. Elbows bent and close to your body. Don't charge in recklessly. If you lunge and miss," she thrust the sword towards Nate's crotch to balance his manhood on her blade, "your opponent can take advantage. And be sure to stay relaxed, gorgeous," she advised as she tilted her sword to allow his balls to drop from it. Next she ran the edge of her blade down each ... of the defined muscles ... of his abdomen. "He has nice muscle definition, Jane." He can work out with me anytime.

"Well, that was exciting." For a moment I thought she was going to neuter me.

Yes. It worked. Alex returned to her seat to sit with one hand between her crossed legs, the other holding her martini. "He can't keep his eyes off me," she said softly to the woman beside her. "I'm so glad my gym time has liberated the real me." On advice from her therapist, Alex had changed her attitude towards dieting. She was now dieting to gain her true self; weight loss being a pain in the neck.

What a load of horse shit. The woman beside Alex gulped half her martini, ate her cherry and the cherry of the women to her left.

"And he's toned," Jane replied. "As I said in my text he obviously attends gym on a regular basis. There are a few bruises on him, so perhaps he plays a code of football?" Jane raised her eyebrows and looked at Nate. "Rugby?" was answered with a shake of his head. "League?" was answered with a nod. That makes sense. He doesn't seem like a private school toff, League being a working class game. Nate worked out four times a week in the gym of his local club at Erina, an hour north of Sydney.

Although the experience with Alex had been exciting, the cold steel against his balls had deflated him to less than his best. When Sarah returned dressed in her beguiling tennis club uniform, her G-string black, "Wow," Nate returned to full size.

He's not looking at my pimple now. Sarah sat on the bed; her body warmed by the light in Nate's eyes.

"And his cock's like a rock." While Nate had been admiring Sarah, the blue G-stringed woman had moved to take him in hand.

I think I recognise her voice, but she can't be...

I love having a man and a drink in hand. Blue G-string sipped her martini. A few pumps will keep his eyes from my thighs.

Bart would love her thighs.

He's a handful. "If only my husband could get it up like this."

Your husband gets it up for me. With her nose in the air Alex took a satisfied sip on her drink. You need to tighten up with pelvic floor exercises, Tina, and do more than lay on your back like a dead fish.

"Wearing blue we have Tina." Tina was big-chested, big-nippled, and full-bodied. "She enjoys reading history, storia Romana." Jane had learned Italian from her immigrant mother.

"Sounds interesting, but what is storia Romana?" And from where do I know that voice?

"The story of ancient Rome," Tina answered. "Boring as an accountant's convention but look, he's crying." Tina directed the tip of Nate's dripping enthusiasm towards the seated ladies while gulping the last of her sky blue martini.

"Kiss him better," Alex said to tennis club chuckles. "I love these lothario interviews. They're like a girl's night out with a stripper all to ourselves. Nothing makes me hornier after a mundane week than to be out with my friends, having a few drinks and rubbing up against some random ripped guy."

"And there is no one here to judge us." Tina held out her glass for Sarah to collect, and then did more than 'kiss him better'.

"Would you like a drink, Nate?" Sarah asked with a hand on his bottom, her eyes on his face to ignore Tina's activity.

"A Black Bull, neat, please."

We haven't got that. Mummy doesn't drink whiskey so we only have a cheap brand.

Nate stood statue still, chin up, shoulders square, chest out, not looking at the woman between his legs while his eyes followed Sarah as she refilled glasses, at the last delivering a shot of whiskey to him. She returned his gaze, winked, and with a hand on his bottom whispered, "It's OK," in his ear.

Could a keeper be so...understanding? Nate downed the whiskey in one gulp. Shit. "Thanks, Sarah," he croaked, and handed the empty glass to her.

"Would you like another?" That was impressive.

He looked past Sarah and shook his head. My throat's on fire.

Tina stood and backed up to her chair. He doesn't need to see my fat arse again so soon.

"I enjoy my beef salted too," said the green G-stringed woman with a hand on Tina's knee.

Blue and green are speaking with a slight slur. Those two are half cut.

"In green we have Didi. Nate, Didi enjoys a man with outstanding oratorical skills. Didi, I'm sure you have noticed how loose his tongue becomes when a beautiful woman crosses his path."

"I can assist the pretty boy there." Bottle-blonde and buxom Didi placed a finger between her lips.

Pretty boy? Piss off!

"With practice comes control. Did he reach your banana, Jane?" Didi continued.

"Past the banana to the chocolate, and almost to the choc malt." Five seated crotches pushed towards Nate.

They're talking about Jane's pussy flavours. Could they all flavour themselves?

"After his efforts with me, I think a little training and a tongue extension will see him devour every flavour we have." There was a collective intake of breath.

A tongue extension? How can a tongue be extended?

"I also like pecs, buns, abs, and guns, and the buns need to be freshly waxed with no tan lines. From his untanned crotch I suspect he has them. Can you turn him around please, Sarah," Didi requested with a twirl of an upraised finger.

Sarah placed her hands on Nate's waist to turn him like a prize winning bull. Oh. I missed a hair. She reached for her razor, pulled his penis down and sliced the offending hair from his body. That's better. Throwing the razor on the bed, still holding him, Sarah looked up into his eyes. I wish I still had you to myself.

Thank Christ for that, Nate sighed as he eyed the blade on the bed, relieved his bedroom warrior was not lying defeated and bloodied beside it.

Didi considered Nate's rear, drumming a finger on her chin as she did. "Very nice. Strong back muscles, but he'll need more sun to overcome those tan lines."

You're so boringly predictable, Didi.

Nate looked over his shoulder to see Didi's tennis friends, excluding Jane, nod in agreement.

"I see you left your signature on his bottom, Jane." There were mumbles of amused agreement from the crowd, and Didi twirled her finger again.

With him facing the tennis ladies once more, Sarah sat on the bed, crossed her legs and reached between his to slowly scratched his bald scrotum.

Nate widened his stance.

Neither looked at the other.

"In purple we have Betty. Betty enjoys confessing, don't you Betty?" Wicked laughter erupted.

The one with the nice bum ... and a tight little pursed mouth too. But why are they laughing about her confessing? Perhaps they're laughing at Sarah scratching me. Nate maintained his stance.

"Always." You will become a regular churchgoer with me, Nate. The tennis club had purchased a confessional of generous proportions for a local church; Betty had a penchant for confessing her sins while committing them. For her it heightened the intensity of both. "He has nice cheekbones."

"And you have a nice bum." STOP TALKING. They'll think you can't control your tongue.

Damn. I though he meant mine. I'll need more gym time.

Betty is so lucky to have just the right amount of booty. Mine's fat.

Betty? A great arse? And Tina's tits and voice look and sound like Tina Totter's. They couldn't be them ... behind those masks. They have to be. It would explain Jane's familiarity with Tina's nipples this morning, and she was right—they're big.

Betty flicked her hair back and turned her head to the side to look at Nate out of the corner of her eyes, attempting unsuccessfully to hide a smile behind a hand.

"Well...moving on...in the honey coloured G-string we have Amanda. Amanda will do whatever you want, Nate, won't you Amanda?" Jane looked down her nose at the raven haired beauty.

"Mostly." Amanda's emerald eyes looked up through her black mask, filtered by a fringe of long hair. I wish I was as attractive as Betty.

The one in red heels. Amanda is breathtaking and intriguing. That diamond-studded cross around her neck shows there is another side to the kinky woman she seems in that outfit.

"Get up and go to the bed, Amanda. Sarah, tie her down."

"Yes, Jane." Amanda held tight to her crucifix. What will he do with me? One handed she slipped off her G-string to reveal a pencil thin Brazilian. Which part of me will he take first? The last man took everything. Or perhaps he won't want me at all. Can I trust him? Will he hurt me?

I wish Mummy chose me occasionally. "You're so lucky, Amanda," Sarah whispered in her ear. Having pleasure forced upon you eclipses the guilt for shameful acts.

Sarah wants this too? I thought I was alone. I love this when I'm not being hurt. If only I was strong enough to give control of my body to someone I trust rather than to any man Jane forces upon me. I'm so weak.

Wow. That thin line of black hair is mesmerising. Nate moved to one end of the bed to give the two beauties space to do their thing. His eyes flitted between both as he watched Sarah shackle Amanda, tightening each bond until Amanda's arms were behind her head, her stilettoed feet beside her ears.

Make them tight, Sarah ... yes, that's good. His choices, his shame, my pleasure. Be kind to me, Nate.

"May I ask why the bed is over here?" Didi asked.

Jane explained. Everyone but Nate, Sarah, and Amanda laughed.

"How did he take the waxing, Sarah?" Tina asked.

"Much better than the others."

The others? How many of me have there been?

"Excellent," Tina replied.

"Do whatever you want with the pathetic creature, Nate," Jane commanded with hands on hips. Start by spanking her arse hard. "Don't be shy." Get inside her boy, and negotiating with you will be easy.

Jane is right. I am pathetic. A pathetic sinner. Jesus would not approve of this. No. Don't think of Jesus or God during sex. No. I must always keep them in mind, but then I can't enjoy men. What should I do?

To finish her work, Sarah blindfolded Amanda then fitted her with noise-cancelling earbuds.

Please God, don't let him hurt me as Jane does.

Sarah placed a hand on Nate's arm. "With her ankles as earrings you'll achieve deeper penetration."

Nate looked straight ahead. Deep is good.

Is it only Sarah and I who want this? Could the others want this too? No. They would be strong enough to resist, or strong enough to give permission before being controlled. Please help me to find my path, my Lord.

Alex stood for a better view, feet apart, her hands at crotch height pressing down on the pommel of her sword. Fuck her while thinking of me, Nate, while I think of you fucking me. Her sword tip dug into the timber floor. Submission is so empowering. You unearth a man's deepest desires, and later use them to dominate him while he believes he dominates you. He owns the shame; you own the pleasure. Swords and male egos are my weapons of choice.

Lick her, pretty boy. Didi squeezed Tina's butt.

Harder. Tina met Didi's eyes. Yes, harder. Keep going. I wish I could do bondage on air, but how to avoid losing my reputation and position? Radicals, extremists or kidnapers could take control of the studio. Fuck yes, Didi, squeeze the other cheek. Or those musclebound dim-witted male models from last week's show wanting to make a statement about equal pay to their female counterparts ... oh fuck .. wouldn't being dominated on air be something.

I could have him attach anchor points inside the confessional. I hope he's good on the tools.

Unable to stop his eyes from wandering, Nate looked from Sarah to Amanda to Betty to Tina to Didi to Alex, has she mounted that sword ... yes she has! This is too weird, and settled his attention on Jane. She's the Weird Controller of this moral train wreck. "I think we can stop right here." Focus on the money. "Sarah informed me you're seeking a lothario," and I'm not screwing Amanda in front of Sarah. Who knows, she may still be the one. "You said it could be lucrative. What is your proposal?"

Nothing is happening. Perhaps he doesn't want me. Perhaps Jesus helps me to avoid sin.

"Very well. We're offering a salary of six hundred thousand dollars per annum for three years, a car to the value of two hundred thousand dollars, a clothing allowance, plus antibot and contraceptive implants in return for your services. Exclusive services," Jane added, slapping his bottom as an exclamation mark. "All tennis club members have implants for their health, and in some cases marital security. What is your current line of work, how much are you paid, and when can you start? I'm sure our offer would more than match the wage someone of your years could otherwise earn."

I'm earning less than a quarter of that, without the benefits, and I need the money. Three years of rain and I could afford to buy the unit I'm renting. The estate agent mentioned the owner was thinking of selling. A man is more attractive to a woman if he has assets. I should clarify a few points first.

"I only work Mondays to Fridays, and this will be my room?"

"Yes," Jane said.

Good. I can continue playing footy. What can I do about midweek training though? "There will be a written contract detailing our agreement?"

"There is no need. We are women. We keep our agreements." I'm not putting this in writing you fucking idiot.

He doesn't want me, or my Lord has a higher purpose for me. Could I become a bride of Christ?

And men don't keep their agreements, you sexist bitch! Don't push it. "I'll be choosing the car, and I want one hundred K up front before I resign from my job." That should be enough for a deposit. "I'll be giving up a good career path with the prospect of international travel."

You're lying, Nate. Should I tell Mummy you're unemployed? No. I like you. If you leave I may never see you again.

"Done." Jane did not bother to ask the others their opinion. "You can drive my MG to your home to collect your things. Sarah will accompany you."

Sarah and Nate looked into each other's eyes as Nate's phone rang from somewhere under the bed; it had been kicked there with his clothes. Probably Bart. He can wait. He'd be boasting about bonking that bodacious woman he pointed out last night. I'd rather keep my eyes on Sarah's.

Didi and Tina departed, each with the others backside in hand.

I should check eBay for anchor points.

Where did I leave the keys to Mummy's MG?

That finished too soon. Alex slammed the sword back onto its wall mounts.

The fucking idiot didn't haggle on price. He learns quickly though. I think I'll drive the MG home with him rather than Sarah. I love moving through the gears in that old sports car.

IV

With no movement on the bed for some time, Amanda knew she had been abandoned; bound, alone, deaf and blind once more. I'm sure Jane leaves me here for her amusement. What can I do to become more confident, to be as bold as everyone else? Betty and Tina have careers. Alex has her fencing, and she and Didi have their charity work. Jane has the confidence and independence I want and Sarah will surely find a man more attentive to her needs than mine is to me. He takes his secretary Lyndon with him everywhere, and they go to dinner together at least three times a week. If I could...

WHACK!

"Oh." Amanda's bottom stung. Experience told her to lay still. "Thank you for coming back for me, Jane." I wish Sarah was bound not ...

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

No. It would be wrong to wish pain on anyone. Who would want this? Tears began to roll from Amanda's eyes. Please, God. Please stop her hurting me. Please give my life purpose.

"You're pathetic." Where is that studded spanker I bought ... "SARAH!"

IV

"It is finished, yes? The man and woman are now together as instructed?" white-haired Sos, eldest of the Leluuwahn, asked her pupil.

"They are together as our Lord instructed, yes." This was silver-haired Buzzeere's first mission as an elder, and he was pleased with his efforts so far.

"And the Shining One?"

"His sign traversed the morning sky, yes, and the breeze grew from a zephyr to a bora."

"A red sky in the morning. He must be watching. He always follows when we Travel. It is of no matter. He will not know of our purpose. The women will teach the man skills he will need, and the Lord shall inform us when the man is ready to Travel. You may return home, Buzzeere. You have done well, yes."

Buzzeere straightened. Praise from Sos was not easily earned.

With the first hurdle of their mission overcome, both elders of the Leluuwahn placed their palms together, bowed, and opened their eyes to finish their telepathy. Buzzeere stepped onto his Crystal Shield to commence his homeward journey, preferring to fly over the modern world before Travelling through time. If he flew at cruising speed it would take seventeen days to reach the Plateau, 10,000 miles and 2,000 years away. I shall be home in ten, yes.

# Chapter 5

# Vegas Then Rome

##

## Ancient Rome - July 22, 40 CE

## The Future - July 20, 2045

I need to find meaning for my life ... and respectability. Nate was in a window seat, well into a Finnair flight from Las Vegas to Rome, the plane sparsely populated with suits and holiday makers. When his contract had expired a week earlier, Jane presented him with a business class round-the-world, multi-stop, multi-continent ticket allowing him to travel until he had touched down twice on each continent. No start date, no direction, and no end date, just turn up when you want and go where you like.

I need to find a better use for my life, one I can tell Mum and Dad about, and associate with a better class of women. 'What do you do for a living?' 'I work for a ladies tennis club who volley, smash, backhand and forehand my balls from one end of their clubhouse to the other.' I don't think so. For three years his customary state of dress had been undressed, normalising life in the nude.

Looking across Amanda, the swaying hips of a tall, blonde haired, Nordic looking stewardess caught his eye as she patrolled the aisle in search of passengers in need of her service. Nice bum. I wonder if she...don't. Stop viewing women as sex objects. Find a keeper. He looked out the window, and ran a finger around his collar.

He doesn't look comfortable in clothes. Amanda had one eye on Nate while the other skimmed an inflight magazine.

I could take up fencing, I guess. Datemi una spada, give me a sword. He had enjoyed fencing with Alex, and the occasional wound encouraged gladiatorial fantasies. The two had taken regular lessons from an Italian Olympian named Alessandro who gave Nate a solid grounding in the basics of the sport. It had been as Alex had said on that first day. Relax. Stay balanced. Keep your feet apart. Do not charge in recklessly. Elbows bent and close to the body. If you lunge and miss, your opponent can take advantage.

Or I could teach women how to keep their pussies tight; Alex was the oldest with the snuggest purse. "Pelvic floor exercises, darling. They help mature women fight incontinence and maintain a snug fit for gorgeous men like you."

He just pushed his crotch forward. What's he thinking about? That's a nice watch, but too much.

No, definitely not. That would take me back to whoring and making money from my all-over tan and tongue extension. A keeper would never want me. The extension had given him an extra two centimetres in length, and Didi had been tickled pink with how it tickled her pink. Didi was thorough in flavouring herself. It had been Didi who introduced the tennis ladies to Francesco's Five Fabulous Fanny Flavours: vanilla, caramel, banana, chocolate, and choc malt.

There was an advert for trips to the moon on the screen in front of Nate. Those TV ads back in Vegas said they're taking bookings now for flights starting in twelve months. I don't think my ticket will last that long. Probably wouldn't cover it either. Maybe I could get a degree and teach history? Tina the newsreader had regularly used him to practice news reading "under pressure," sitting on his face while reading books on philosophy and Roman history. The professional challenge for Tina was to transition from serious to jovial to sympathetic expressions, regardless of subject matter or Nate's activity.

Nate enjoyed her readings. Philosophy made him think, and his favourite philosopher was Cicero. "If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need." I'd love a garden with an oak tree like Jane's. And with philosophy came history, Roman history of battles, politics, violence, intrigue, and larger-than-life characters to entertain and educate him. It was an era with lands to conquer and adventures engage in, where military service brought discipline and risk to a man's life. The camps, the forts, battle formations and tactics all fascinated him. Minimum height, five foot six. Minimum age, eighteen. Why any emperor would trust his Praetorian Guard was beyond Nate, the Guards killing numerous emperors throughout Roman history. He learnt a lot with his ears between Tina's thighs.

Rome, a city that once provided rich returns for people of virtue and vice. I wonder which level of Roman society I would've been in. A noble patrician family would be best, a middle- to lower-class plebeian family would be OK, but a slave?

"Nate. NATE."

"What?" Nate looked to Amanda then up to the Nordic hostess. Nice rack ... don't. Look at her face first. "No, thank you. Do you have a Black Bull whisky?" was answered with a shake of the head. "A hot chocolate?" Another shake of her head. Nate shook his and waved her away with a smile. Nice bum. Sarah made good hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream, nice dunking biscuits too. He looked out the window. So that's Spain. It looks dry. Such a pity Sarah is Jane's stepdaughter. His heart yearned for their relationship to move beyond sex, but the stepmother, daughter and friend's thing had been too much. Maybe if I still have feelings for her when I return I'll contact her. She'd need to leave that house though. I don't want a life with Jane in it ... not often anyway. Escaping her in one piece was an achievement.

Nate had asked Sarah of the men previously employed as gigolos. The last one had died, accidentally, at the end of his contract. Two dead husbands and one dead gigolo are three dead bodies too many for me. Jane's husbands had left her with money, and the death of the gigolo had left Nate with suspicions of foul play.

If she was going to kill me, she wouldn't have let me go so easily. Or would she? She bought my ticket, so perhaps she can track me. A dangerous woman, Jane. Exciting, though. A woman like that takes men out of their comfort zone.

He had absorbed enough Italian from Jane to make himself understood, including vulgarities. She was Italian by descent, as was her first husband, and Nate supplemented her teachings with online lessons. It was useful at Italian restaurants and should be useful when they landed in Rome, if I can speak it well enough.

"Nate. NATE. You need to fasten your seatbelt. They said we're entering turbulence."

"Huh? Oh, OK." What a different woman Amanda is to Jane. Submissive, hides behind her fringe, cries out for forgiveness during sex rather than howling like a she-devil. "No...no...oh no, don't...oh...stroke, stroke, stroke oh no...oh God forgive me...forgive me." She said her first intimate boyfriend had been a rower. How many times have I heard 'stroke' while screwing her with that crucifix around her neck? They say Catholic guilt never leaves you, but why think of God while you're sinning?. He looked sideways at her, trying for discretion within scrutiny. I like the way that leopard print dress I bought in Vegas rides up her thighs. Bart thought so too when I sent him that photo. She's lovely, and only a few years older than me, but I'm not sure Mum would warm to her.

V

Nate's contract with the tennis club had ended at midnight on Wednesday, July 12th, 2045. Five days later, on a Monday, he had been sitting in the Virgin business-class lounge of Sydney Airport on a grey winter's day, hungrily reading a menu, when he heard Amanda's soft voice.

"Hello, Nate."

"Amanda? Where are you off to?" Eyes wide and smiling, he stood for a hug.

"I don't know. Can I travel with you?"

Nate then lifted Amanda's chin to see her emerald eyes were bloodshot. Her makeup is much heavier than her normal light dusting. "Jane?"

Amanda nodded.

Wrath and sympathy and rose up inside him at the thought of a woman being treated so callously. Jane is usually content with giving her a firm whack on the backside or a slap across the face, but this time she may have given Amanda a beating. But Nate calmed on seeing Amanda's face light up as she looked at him; I like you too, Amanda. You have no need of my anger. He hugged her again, she laid her head on his shoulder, her tears and makeup staining his shirt. Her trust in him warmed his heart but dampened his excitement for travel. Consumed by a need to comfort a damaged angel, Nate's felt his mood begin to mirror the overcast sky and dampened tarmac behind her.

Why does she have a need to submit to others? Nate stroked Amanda's raven hair. So soft. I've enjoyed her submission and the tennis ladies using me but that was reciprocal; we used each other and I was paid. "How did you slip through Customs without a ticket?"

"I have the same ticket Jane purchased for you. I left after she hurt me. I knew you were flying out today so I came early to wait for you. Can I travel with you, Nate? Where are you going?"

"How about a few days in Las Vegas? We'll decide where to go after that." He kissed the top of her head.

Amanda looked up into his eyes. "I'll go anywhere with you, Nate. I don't deserve your kindness."

Nate wiped away her tears with a finger. "You deserve more kindness than I have to give."

V

In Vegas, it had been the profile of Nero carved into a bedside table that inspired them to fly to Rome. During the flight's second movie, an old John Wayne western, a newsbreak told of rising tensions with China. The Chinese had invaded India after India had pushed further into territory of a Chinese ally, Pakistan. So far only conventional weapons had been used. Warships from the United States, France, and Britain were en-route to join their Indian allies to square off against the Chinese in the Bay of Bengal and Arabian Sea.

"Tensions are increasing," announced the American anchor woman.

If any of those ships are sunk...

"Nate. My finger vein scanner isn't working properly. Could you help me please?" Before leaving Vegas, Amanda had given Nate a new solar-powered mobile phone and had one for herself. "And it says on the box that after the first charge, the phones will never need to be charged again. They receive their power from the sun or electric lights. Is that true?"

"Not sure. Probably," he said as he held her finger to re-scan it. Nate watched as she then sent and received a dozen messages, to whom, he did not care. Checking his own phone, he could see Bart was at home, and Trev was in New York. Funny. Trev hadn't mentioned going to New York.

On the descent into Rome news came through that London and Beijing had suffered nuclear attacks, and panic briefly broke out on the plane before the captain calmed them; New York not Rome was not expected to be the next Chinese target.

Shit. Nate phoned Trev; they had been mates since Boy Scouts. No answer. He tapped his fingers on the arm rest. Come on, Trev. Get out of there, mate. The next news update said there had been no more missiles or bombs released since the first two detonations, and negotiators at emergency meetings were close to reaching a truce. Millions had died.

Amanda placed a sweaty hand on Nate's forearm, "Will Rome be safe?"

"I don't know, but regardless of what the captain says I think large cities will probably be targets so we need to get the hell out of Rome as soon as we can." He placed a hand on top of Amanda's, the touch a calming force for both of them. Where do we go? Both East and West have enough bombs to blow up every city on the planet. Staying in the countryside will avoid the blasts, but the fallout will get us.

"Should we go somewhere remote?"

"I think we should go somewhere remote. What do you think?"

Men! They never listen. "That sounds like a good idea. There are more cities in the northern hemisphere, so perhaps we should go south?"

Think. Most of the bombs will go off in the northern hemisphere where the biggest cities and the major players are. We could return to Australia, but there are plenty of cities in Australia too. Even Tasmania has Hobart. Patagonia! It's at the bottom of South America with no cities to speak of. Thank you, Betty. His time watching Betty's buns on her World Weather report finally came in handy for more than soft porn. Looking up the flight schedules on the screen in front of him, he found...no...yes...damn! It's so remote the next flight to Ushuaia isn't for three days. He booked and paid for it anyway.

"I think we need to go south. I booked two seats for us on a flight to Patagonia. OK. Now we have three days to enjoy Rome," or maybe less.

"How can we enjoy anything when millions of people have died, Nate? Sometimes you can be as heartless as Jane."

V

"The Eternal City. What a place!" Nate was looking up, around, and smiling. "After more than two thousand years, the buildings are still standing, parts of them anyway." It was Friday, their first full day in Rome, and they were walking through the Forum towards the Colosseum. Amanda was wearing a tiny red-and-white dress with black high heels; Nate in shorts, a checked shirt, and was unshaven having left his razor in Vegas. Despite the tension in the air from the prospect of Armageddon, the two were enjoying each other's company as they toured Rome's sights, inhaling its history.

"Being in this city when the buildings were new would have been incredible, don't you think? The Arch of Titus, the Arch of Constantine, and the Circus Maximus. What a buzz it would have been to drive a chariot around that." The Circus was only a grass track now, but standing within it and using his imagination, Nate could hear the roar of the crowd and taste the dust of the track. "What a city Rome was, and how far the mighty have fallen. Men who would once have marched off to conquer foreign lands now stay at home wearing plastic legionnaire and gladiator costumes, probably made in China, hoping tourists will pay to have photos taken with them."

"It's too hot to walk further. Toilet," Amanda said to her phone.

"Toilet is not available from your current position," the phone answered.

"Isn't that app supposed to suggest which way to go?"

"I downloaded it for restaurants and clothes, but it should work for toilets too, shouldn't it?"

"I guess so." No, it won't. Nate sighed and looked down. SPQR? On a sewer access cover? That's from ancient times. The Senate and People of Rome.

Saturday they visited the Pantheon, the Trevi and Four Rivers Fountains, and with few people around due to Romans taking their summer holidays on the coast and tourists fearing nuclear attack, they waded in each fountain to cool down. A lack of customers allowed Nate to negotiate a good deal with a taxi driver called Massimo.

On Sunday, July 23, 2045, the Holy See awaited them. Once there the two went separate ways, Amanda heading for St Peter's Basilica, Nate setting off to wander St Peter's Square, looking in wonder at the obelisk at its centre.

How can the Pope and her bishops, leaders of the Christian world, justify the prominent display of a stolen object? Caligula stole this thing from the Egyptians in about 40AD. The madman claimed divinity, committed incest and made his favourite horse a senator. He wasn't the most stable individual, yet the Catholics now proudly display his stolen prize. What about "Thou shalt not steal." I'm no expert, but I don't think turning the other cheek to theft was quite what Jesus meant!

Then again, I'm not exactly a pillar of virtue myself, having been educated on Roman history between the thighs of a sex-crazed newsreader. Thinking about that, and Tina's breasts, gave Nate his own replica of the obelisk. I have to find a keeper before my crotch takes charge again.

When Nate tried to call Amanda, the phone's finger-vein security stopped him; this is Amanda's. Bugger. Returning to their taxi, Nate saw a willowy girl in Massimo's arms, the lecherous driver squeezing her butt before sending her away with a playful whack on her bottom. She walked off with a smile.

"Squeeze 'a' their bum, they happy. You try 'a' with her," Massimo said in English better than Nate's Italian as he pointed to Amanda who had also discovered their mistake.

The two exchanged finger scans on their phones, and Amanda messaged as they walked back to the Holy See. St Peter's was an ocean of humanity seeking comfort from the Pope, comfort she was doing her best to give during a troubled time. Always calm, reasonable, and regal, the travellers had seen and heard Pope Maria across all media since they arrived in Rome. Two days before she had been at the Colosseum in flowing red-and-white robes, cleverly using the setting to remind the world that Rome had once been in the hands of tyrants. "Those men had sacrificed good people to lions for entertainment. The tyrants were defeated, and the tyrants of today will also be defeated. We will not be intimidated," she announced in her American Midwestern twang.

From within the crowd in the square, Nate and Amanda were tapped on the shoulder, selected to be among the few to receive a personal audience with the Pope at the top of the steps to the Basilica. Today she wore flowing white robes with a genuine leopard stole across her shoulders.

"I thought they banned animal skins years ago?"

"She wears the clothes of the people of all continents, Nate, not purely westerners."

"And why does she wear that scarf that's shaped like a Y?" Why believe?

"It's not a scarf, Nate, it's a pallium," a circular, lamb's wool shawl, three fingers wide with tails front and back which to Nate made it form the letter Y. "It's a vestment of the Catholic church that dates back to something Saint Peter wore."

"A vestment?"

"Clothes of Christianity." I wish I had worn something more Christian. Amanda pulled her dress down her thighs, tugged it up over her boobs, down her thighs, over her boobs, and finally with sigh accepted the obvious; her dress wouldn't cover everything.

Kneeling at the Pope's feet, an awed Amanda clutching her crucifix beside him, and the eyes of thousands in the Square and millions on TV watching, Nate answered his phone. It was Bart.

"G'day, Nate. Meeting with the Pope, are you?" The map on Bart's phone had Nate at the Vatican. Bart had also turned on his TV and was watching live footage of the Vatican pilgrims, thinking Nate had to be in the crowd somewhere.

"Yeah, I am. I'll call you back."

"Wait," Bart said, but it was the Pope who did not want to wait. She was not accustomed to being left "on hold" and so held out her hand to receive Nate's phone. "You need to get out of Rome. Those in charge of the nukes couldn't give a shit if a few more cities are blown up. You need to..."

"God will protect you and your friend, young man," a female voice with an American accent said to Bart. The voice was familiar, but he could not place it. It must be that Amanda woman Nate is travelling with. She sounds older than she looks. Nate said he isn't really with her; she's just along for the ride. A little flattery won't go astray.

"Oh, hi. You must be Nate's travelling friend. You looked terrific in that red-and-white dress the other day at the Colosseum." Some small talk, some flattery, and she'll be mine. Remembering a photo of Amanda that Nate had sent from Vegas, Bart continued. "And you wear leopard print the way it should be worn. Some women look cheap in it, but you look confident and sexy." Bart's eyes wandered back to his TV and a close-up of the Pope, talking on a mobile phone and wearing a leopard stole across her shoulders. A man and a woman knelt in front of her.

Those two look a lot like...

"Shit. You're fucking kidding me." Bart's eyes went wide when he realised he had said the "F" word to the Pope. He ended the call. "FUCK." With his head in both hands, looking through his fingers at the TV, Bart could see the Pope give Nate a disapproving look as she returned his phone.

"FUCK." Bart peered through his fingers at the TV. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" and threw his phone against a wall where it was smashed to pieces. "Ohhhh fuck."

V

On their last day, Amanda euphoric after meeting the Pope, Nate with a belly full of saké from dinner at a Japanese restaurant, they had the four-poster bed in their hotel room squeaking to the rhythm of love. "You're a beautiful woman, Amanda." They were doing it doggy-style, and in a wall mirror Nate could see her cross and breasts rocking in time with his thrusts.

Revelling in Nate's lust and reminiscing on her meeting with the Pope, Amanda slipped from lust into guilt.

"Oh no...no no...oh stroke, stroke, stroke...oh God. Stroke, Stroke, ohhh God. OOHHH GOD FORGIVE ME!"

Row, row, row your boat, screw her 'til she screams,

Full and firm and ripe and round, her tits are just a dream, Nate sung to himself. I think the sake has made me a songwriter. Black Bull has never done that.

"God is not available from your current position."

"Huh?"

"Oh God forgive me." Will He turn from me for enjoying this?

"God is not available from your current position." It was Amanda's phone. It was on their bed, and the voice recognition had picked up on her "oh Gods."

If her phone thinks a new position is required, who am I to resist. Nate smacked her backside and rolled onto his. Ohhh, too much saké. The bed spun beneath him. Regaining his composure, proud that he could still perform with so much alcohol in his blood, Nate had Amanda straddle him, facing away.

"No...no...oh no, don't...oh...oh no...oh stroke me, stroke, God forgive me...ooohhh God ohhh forgive me." Hail Mary, full of grace, please may Our Lord still love me.

"God is not available from your current position."

"This God character of yours is pretty damn hard to reach, Amanda." Enjoying the challenge the phone provided, Nate rose to check his Karma Sutra app for something more unusual. He scratched the three-day growth on his chin as he swiped through the app to find....

Yes. That looks good. He dropped the phone on the bed, beside Amanda's. "God will definitely NOT be available from this position." Nate strapped her arms to her torso with the leather bonds they had purchased on their first day in Rome.

"Oh Nate, make them tight. Hail Mary, full of grace." Give me no control.

Kinky sex with a guilt ridden Catholic girl; so good. Nate lifted her red stilettoed feet to his chest. "I love having sex with women wearing nothing but heels and bling." It was a hangover from his first night with Jane.

"A crucifix isn't bling, Nate."

It is if you don't believe. With his saké-sodden brain concentrating on Amanda's breasts, his crotch concentrating on her buttocks, and Amanda exchanging "oh Gods" and "not available from your current position" with her phone, their activities and the lubricant deprived bed camouflaged Jane's entry.

V

Having bought their phones and one for herself in Vegas, linking them to her GPS while hiding her position from them, Jane knew Nate and Amanda's movements. With regular messages from a compliant Amanda, she also knew when the two would fly into and out of Rome, timing her first class flight to Rome to ensure the three would not meet at the airport.

Big, dumb and well hung, just the way I like them. After pinching her blonde haired cabin attendants bum as he paused to button his shirt before leaving her cabin, Jane raised the back of her flatbed seat to sit naked, feet up, sipping pink champagne from a long flute. That one might be a half decent replacement for dumb fuck Nate.

But before I replace him, I need to butcher him. I love killing husbands and lotharios. For Nate's demise Jane had persuaded Amanda travel with him, track him to kill him. If the tennis club became known to people of substance in Sydney, it would be difficult for Jane to take another rich husband if needed. She shouldn't need another with the money gained from the first two she had murdered, but complacency and wealth do not mix. There were no loose ends surrounding the deaths of my husbands, no loose ends from killing the boys before Nate, and I will have no loose ends now.

Jane could not end Nate's life in Vegas. The retina scan needed to enter his and Amanda's room had foiled that. But the duo's room in Rome was low-tech, requiring an old-fashioned key for entry, and the lock had been easy to pick while the pair toured the Colosseum. Jane had purchased a carving knife and meat grinder from supermarkets in Rome, leaving no cause for suspicion; Italians love preparing food. Today was to be the day of the kill, Jane instructing Amanda to ply Nate with alcohol at dinner. "Give him enough to dull his brain, not his libido, and bed him with his back to the door. And remember to position your phone camera to stream his position." A knife plunged through his back to his heart will silence another loose end.

With Nate dead, Jane would chop him up in the bath, process him through the meat grinder, and throw his minced body into a forest near Lazio for the wildlife to enjoy. She would then rummage through Nate's phone for recent calls and, passing herself off as him, message his friends to say he was off to Greece, taking the phone with her. Once there, she would message from an Internet cafe to say his phone was broken and that he could not be bothered buying another until he reached London. The trail would go cold and his last known location would not be the scene of his murder. In Rome she would leave cash on the apartment's coffee table with a note of thanks for the owner. He'll keep the cash, not the forged note. The plan had worked with Amanda and the last boy in Rio, and it will work again in Rome.

Looking at the pictures streaming live to her phone, Jane saw Nate regularly change positions. Stop poncing around, boy. Turn her ankles into earrings and get on with it. As she entered the apartment, the images on her phone gave her confidence Nate had not heard her until ...

Fuck. What's he doing now? Nate had left the picture.

Jane released a silent sigh of relief when he returned to the frame. I haven't seen that position before. Amanda seems to be enjoying it. Jane stared at the screen.

"No, no, oh...oh, push harder, stroke, stroke me, Nate, please...oh no...no don't...oohh God forgive me, push harder. Oh God!" Please forgive my sins.

"God is not available from your current position."

Not only is the stupid bastard being controlled by his dick, but his dick is being controlled by a phone controlled by Amanda shouting "Oh God." Fucking idiots.

With his back to the door, Jane crept into the room and slowly, gently, stepped onto the bed. Holding her knife in two hands above her head, ready to plunge it through him, Jane used the moment to take pleasure in the look of dread in Amanda's eyes. You are pathetic, and he has a muscular back. It will look even better with my steel in it. One, Two ... too late.

Hands grabbed Jane from behind, a flash of light blinded her and a deafening explosion knocked her to her knees. She fell for a few seconds to land with a thud, what the fuck, and whoever was holding her waist was still there.

V

Nate doesn't deserve to be murdered. He did everything Mummy's club asked. Hoping Jane wouldn't kill him, but fearing she would, Sarah had trailed Nate's follower. The carving knife and meat grinder she witnessed Jane purchase had cut deep into Sarah's hopes.

So intent was Jane on tracking Nate and Amanda, she had no thought that someone would follow her. She never took a suspicious look over her shoulder, not even as Sarah followed her to Nate and Amanda's apartment. While Jane waited at the door, Sarah waited on lower steps. When Jane went through the door, Sarah moved to the door. When Sarah saw Jane take the knife from her bag and move to another room, Sarah ran after her. Seeing Jane standing on the bed with a knife ready to plunge into Nate's back, Sarah rushed to grab Jane by the waist, to pull her away from Nate ... and then the light blinded her.

# Chapter 6

# A Bumpy Landing

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 2pm

## The Future - July 23, 2045 7.30pm

Uuuuuuuuhhh. What a position. I wish I'd found that years ago. Or maybe it was the saké. Relaxing in his afterglow, Nate remembered his orgasm, a bright light, an almighty bang, and the bed floating through the air to crash on the floor. Who cares if it was the saké. If it does that, I'm going to drink it every time. Nate rolled off Amanda and onto his back, enjoying the sun on his face.

Sun? He opened his eyes, and there was the sun. "What?" He blinked. The sun was still there and so was Jane. What in hell is she doing here?

VI

Longinus and Paulus, Praetorian Guardsmen, looked at each other.

"Caligula." Paulus shook his head in disappointment. The young emperor had started his reign with promise and the support of all citizens. He had embarked on an ambitious building program, only to fall into cruelty, extravagance, and sexual perversity. As Guardsmen, they had witnessed his deeds. Worse, Caligula was leading Rome towards bankruptcy.

"Only thinks with his penis now," Longinus replied.

The two had seen a naked man and a naked woman on a large bed with a strangely dressed woman who looked strikingly similar to the emperor's mother. The three had not been there a moment before. No one had carried the bed past them, a bed so big it could only have come from the palace. Caligula allowing people of the palace to have sex on a bed adjacent to a busy road was further evidence of his perversion. If the strangely dressed woman was indeed the good lady Agrippina, the emperor had dragged his hitherto respected mother into the gutter with him.

On duty with their conturbenium to guard the road, the two did not relish the task of asking members of Caligula's court, including Caligula's mother, to move on. Deciding that task was more suitable for their centurion, the two sent their newest recruit, young Scaevola, to fetch Vergilius; he would know what to do. Overstepping the mark with people from the Imperial Palace was a sure path to a swift and painful death.

Vergilius did not take long to arrive, and he too was cautious. The bound and naked female with the strange, bright red, foreign-looking shoes was of no concern, probably a courtesan by the way she trimmed her crotch. The strangely clothed woman was of great concern. He would make no eye contact with her. Oh, to have enough gold to not care how others found you. Vergilius resolved to make polite enquiries of the naked man.

VI

"What are you doing here, and what's with the knife?" The sight of Jane with a knife in hand ripped Nate from his afterglow. Was I to be her next convenient death? Then he noticed the two hands clutching Jane's waist, their severed arms had been cauterized, and there was no body in sight.

Are they real? Is that...that's Sarah's ring! "What have you done with Sarah?"

Jane looked down and realised who had grabbed her; however, knowing it had been Sarah did not explain what had happened. "I don't know. I didn't...I don't...where are we?" she said, looking around.

"We're in Rome, as if you don't know. Now what have you..." Nate stopped midsentence, looking past Jane to see what appeared to be ancient Rome, not the modern-day Rome they had been in. "Where are we?"

Their eyes widened, and all three forgot each other as they quietly surveyed their new surroundings, Amanda's view constrained by her restricted movement.

Nate stood, hands on hips, balanced on the balls of his feet. Where there had been buildings across a lane that he could almost reach out and touch, there now were none. I can see the Tiber River. I couldn't see that before. Turning, he could see the Pantheon, and again, there were no buildings in between. To his right, he thought he could see the Forum, but...where is our apartment? Where is our bedroom? And where is Sarah? His mouth was open, his eyes staring at sights they did not believe.

"What's happened?" Amanda hid behind her fringe when she realised she was naked in public, crossed her legs, and endured a short pause before Jane answered.

"I remember a blinding flash of light followed by a loud explosion."

"I thought that was the saké in my system and the orgasm."

"You idiot! Do you really think that fucking Amanda caused this?" Jane extended her arms to all that surrounded them.

"No, I don't. Fucking Amanda didn't do this to us, but giving Amanda the biggest fuck of her life might have." Sorry mum, Nate thought, remembering his promised not to swear.

The two glared at each other, and when Jane felt the knife in her hand, she lunged.

Nate disarmed her easily. He was stronger and faster, threw the knife to the ground and stood over her.

"Please calm down." Amanda's shame had turned to nervousness. Bound like this, I can do nothing to cover up.

Jane and Nate glared at Amanda, but he walked to the other end of the bed when he realised the sense of her words. Discussing the situation, the three agreed there had been a bright light followed by an almighty explosion.

"It must've been a nuke." The others nodded in agreement with Nate. "What happened to Sarah?" He pointed to her arms.

"I really don't know, or care. I never wanted her; she came with the money." Jane brushed Sarah's arms from her waist to the bed. To Jane, Sarah's life had been safe with no paedophiles, no businessmen, and no drug dealers to harass her. She had never needed to hide in a closet to escape.

Bitch, Nate and Amanda thought.

"I came here to kill you. Sarah must have followed me, and tried to stop me when I jumped on the bed. As only the bed has landed intact, her arms must have been the only part of her over it when the explosion occurred."

"Sarah was obliterated by the explosion." She saved my life and ended hers, while I did nothing but enjoy myself. I can't even hug her to thank her.

"But how did the explosion land us here?" Amanda peeked through her hair to see up and down looks and smiles being directed her way. People like me. They like me as I am. She flicked her head to move her hair and smiled back.

"We don't know, and it doesn't really matter, Amanda. We're here and we must deal with it," Jane snapped.

"Why were you trying to kill me?"

"You're a loose end." Brainless muscle head.

"You need to expand on that." Bitch.

"You really are a simple boy, aren't you? Money and reputation. I married two husbands for the latter, and killed them both for the former. No need to mention our killing of the last cock we used, is there, Amanda?"

Nate turned to Amanda, open-mouthed.

"She beat me, Nate. I didn't want to help her, but she beat me." Amanda began to cry. Her buoyant mood from the many stranger's acceptance was shattered by the guilt of her complicity with Jane.

I should be angry, thought Nate, but Amanda would never hurt anyone. She's too weak to resist Jane's coercion. He moved to Amanda, placing a hand on her arm to comfort her. It wasn't enough for either of them. Lying beside her to hold her in his arms, Nate's sense of loss for Sarah cut a little less.

He understands. If only he would think to untie me.

It was an unusual scene; Jane on her knees, fully clothed, with Amanda bound and naked wearing only her red shoes and in Nate's arms, while Sarah's arms lay lifeless on the bed. The three remained that way until Nate stood to look around. With one foot on the bed head, shielding his eyes from the sun, he scanned the horizon like an old sea captain. Still naked, his 'rudder' flapped in the breeze.

All three pondered the events that had led to their predicament and what would happen next. There were scores of people walking past the bed, their clothes giving away their social standing; a few in silk togas carried on litters, while others trudged naked in chains. The thought of being sold into slavery crossed each of their minds. Donkey drawn carts pulling animals in cages gave off rustic odours. Apart from Amanda's admirers, most passers-by avoided making eye contact with the occupants of the bed.

"Where are all these people and animals going?" Nate asked. "And why are nearly all of them going that way? What is over there? I think that's, maybe east, or south east?"

Amanda's red shoes caught the corner of Nate's eye.

"Why are you staring at me, Nate? I didn't want to help Jane. Please believe me."

"I do believe you. It's just that your shoes remind me of Dorothy and how she landed on her bed in Oz with Toto, but Dorothy wasn't dressed like you."

"Well, maybe if she had, the Wizard of Oz would've been more helpful."

"No doubt about that." I don't know why, but high heels place every piece of art that comprises a female body into its perfect place. They can transform a housewife into a sex goddess.

"So what is your plan to get us out of here?" Jane asked.

"And why is it up to me to find a plan?"

"Because, according to you, you're the one who got us here with your fucking, you fucking idiot." All my hard earned money is gone.

"Nate," Amanda said quietly.

"Don't call me an idiot, bitch."

"Nate," Amanda called his name a little louder.

"I didn't call you an idiot. I called you a FUCKING idiot because that's all you're FUCKING good for."

"Bitch," Nate retorted, coveting a more cutting reply.

Amanda could not get Nate's attention by calling his name, so she wriggled one arm free of her bonds to reach up and fondle his manhood.

"Bloody hell, Amanda. Our love-making lasted two thousand years and you want to do it again?"

"It was nice, Nate, but no. That man seems to be talking to your penis." She pointed to a little man in a military uniform whose head was in front of Nate's groin. He and his companions gave me a long approving look when they first arrived. Emboldened by the men's smiling eyes, Amanda pointed her Brazilian towards them, took a sharp breath, and looked away.

VI

Vergilius stood in front of the naked searching man, doing his best to ignore the bound courtesan. "How may I help you?" No answer. He seems to be in argument with the strangely dressed woman. The searching man's genitals were looking Vergilius in the eye, which made the centurion uncomfortable.

"How may I help you?" Vergilius asked again, this time a little louder. Neither the searching man nor the strangely dressed woman noticed him, but the bound and naked woman did. She split her attention between him and the searching man, trying to get the searching man's attention. Beautiful.

Vergilius looked to Paulus and Longinus for help, but they only shrugged, interested as they were in the bound woman.

"Perhaps he is a little deaf, Centurion," young Scaevola offered.

Young, but he could be correct. "HOW MAY I HELP YOU?" Despite shouting, Vergilius still had not gained the searching man's attention.

The bound and naked woman did, though, toying with the searching man's rapidly erecting penis.

"Centurion, perhaps, to get his attention, you need to do as she did." Paulus struggled to contain a smile.

"How about I cut your penis off and hit him with it to get his attention?"

Paulus stopped smiling.

VI

Nate looked down to see a short man dressed in one of the legionnaire uniforms he had seen at the Colosseum. He looks ridiculous. The man had parked his fat head a foot away from Nate's groin. And what is he saying? Though he could speak some Italian, with all that was happening around him, the words weren't registering with Nate.

But rather than trying to listen harder to understand what was being said, Nate replied, "No point talking down there, mate. That's not a bloody microphone, and those aren't speakers." He pointed to his penis and testicles respectively.

VI

The searching man looked down and said something that Vergilius could not understand. Looking for assistance from his guardsmen, Vergilius received only shrugs.

The boy, Scaevola, tried to help. "I think they are speaking the tongue used in Britannia."

"How would you know that?" Vergilius asked, doubting the boy.

"My father was a senator's slave before being freed in thanks for saving the life of the senator's wife. Some of the other slaves were from Britannia. I learned to speak a little of their language."

"So what did he say?"

"I think he said there is no point in you talking to his penis, and his penis is called Mikafone..."

"Sounds Greek to me," said Longinus to Paulus quietly.

"...and he also said it was not something about blood, which I did not understand, and maybe his testicles can speak. I am not sure."

"What?" Vergilius' question was echoed by Longinus and Paulus. "I was not talking to his penis, and what did you mean by 'it was not something about blood that you did not understand and that his testicles can speak?'"

"I think he may have cocked up the translation," Paulus said. Longinus tried unsuccessfully to hold back a laugh, masking his mirth with a cough.

Undeterred, Scaevola continued. "I meant I did not understand what he was talking about."

"Then why did you not say that? Ask him what he meant and make sure he knows you are not talking to his penis."

"How do I do that?"

"Do not be a dickhead," Paulus said, looking very serious and forcing Longinus to cough harder into his hand.

Vergilius was not a man completely without mirth, but his shallow pool of patience had evaporated. As the searching man is not speaking Italian, he obviously is not from Caligula's court, so the respect I thought was required is not required at all. The centurion drew his sword.

VI

After being naked for the better part of three years with the tennis club, Nate was not at all uncomfortable standing naked while talking to the little man in the legionnaire's uniform. But when the little fellow used his sword as a plate for Nate's testicles, Nate's discomfort grew quickly. No more smart arsed comments; this guy isn't Alex. I don't want my balls sliced off and fed to one of the passing animals to be chewed, and digested to become another piece of shit on the ground.

"I thought you could understand Italian. He was asking how he can help, you idiot." Jane shook her head.

"Well, it would be a big help if he removed his sword from my balls. Could you ask him to? PLEASE?"

"La prego di prendere la spada lontano da sua palle?"

VI

"At last we are getting somewhere," Vergilius said, not yet ready to remove his sword. "Weapons speak all languages."

As the strangely dressed woman had an accent that was not Roman, Vergilius knew she was not whom he feared.

"I may perhaps remove my sword from his balls, but first, you will tell me who you are, from where you hail, and how you came to be here."

VI

Now listening intently, Nate understood what was said. "How in hell are we going to explain that?"

"Well, that appears to be more your problem than mine, doesn't it?"

Bitch. Nate gritted his teeth and forced a smile. Those two standing behind the fat head don't look very friendly with those weapons. Both men were armed with a sword on their hip and a lance in hand.

"Perhaps we can ask them to take us to their leader?" Amanda suggested. With the men's eyes regularly flitting towards her, hers flitted towards theirs; she had begun to embrace her nudity. Oh my. She squeezed her thighs together and held one fingernail between her teeth. I want more people to see me naked.

"My balls would prefer a better plan than that."

"Well as your balls have been doing your thinking for the last three years, perhaps your balls could come up with a better plan?"

Unfortunately, Nate's balls could not come up with a better plan; neither could his brain and neither could Jane's.

"Portarci il vostro leader," Jane said. "Chi è?"

VI

"She wants us to take them to our leader." Scaevola was pleased to help.

"I know what she said. I do speak Italian. But how is it they do not know Caligula is in power?"

"Perhaps—" Paulus began, and Vergilius cut him off.

"Fetch the remainder of your conturbenium and any other guardsmen you need and carry that bed, with them on it, at full step to the camp near the amphitheatrum. Leave your lances at the armoury. We shall see what Prefect Titus has to say about them. Hopefully he will not be too annoyed by the interruption to his planning for Sunday's opening."

"Titus will know what to do," Longinus said quietly to his friend.

Yes, he is a strong man who leads us well. Paulus enjoyed serving under Titus.

VI

"Did I hear correctly? Did the one who balanced my balls on his sword say that Caligula is the emperor and that Titus is his prefect? And that the amphitheatrum is to be opened on Sunday?"

"It certainly sounded like that." Jane watched two of the Romans jog away. They're fit.

"None of this makes sense. I'm not sure of the exact dates, but Caligula was emperor around 40 AD. Titus was only born in about 40 AD, so how can he be prefect now? And the amphitheatrum, which we call the Colosseum, was finished around 80 AD by Titus as emperor, not Titus as prefect. And that kid there," Nate pointed at the boy, "seems to understand English. But English, as we know it, only developed around 500 AD. On top of that, these guys are speaking Italian, and Italian only emerged around the fifteenth century...I think. None of this makes sense."

"And being here makes sense to you, does it?" Jane had great faith in Nate's ability to achieve multiple orgasms daily, but had no faith in his knowledge of history. "Maybe it's a different Titus, and maybe it's a different Caligula. Or maybe you don't remember correctly."

Nate doubted himself only briefly. "No. I may not have the dates exactly right, but I'm close. Maybe it isn't the same Titus, but there was only one Emperor Caligula. And there was only one Colosseum, and Caligula didn't build it, and Italian and English weren't spoken during Caligula's reign."

"Well, maybe someone built it before Caligula." Jane was determined not to believe him.

"No. Titus finished it after his father commenced it. What was his father's name? Vas ... Ves ... VESPASIAN. Yes. Vespasian."

Pleased with himself, Nate left his sea captain position to kneel beside Amanda, facing Jane. But what part of Caligula's reign are we in? Have we landed in the time when Caligula had the admiration of the Roman world? Or during his time of madness? Nate hoped for the former, and feared for the worse. He also wondered what day of the week it was. I want to attend the opening of the Colosseum.

VI

"What do you think will happen to them?" Scaevola asked Paulus as they walked towards the amphitheatrum, carrying the bed.

"They are not Roman. Titus will probably sell them to the slave traders, and as we were the ones to find them, we should gain coin from their sale."

"Much?"

"They look soft, so they will be of little use in the fields. The man is handsome and pampered with no hair on him...anywhere! The pretty woman with the strange shoes should fetch a pretty price as a whore. They will probably be sold in the Saepta for a high price." The Saepta was near the Forum, close to the most fashionable shops. "The older female...she looks...skinny...but I do not know. It will depend if someone wants her on the day. Whatever we get is whatever we get."

"If we get anything," Longinus countered glumly.

"We will get something." Vergilius chimed in. "Titus is an honest man."

VI

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, and it doesn't sound promising," Jane replied.

"What's happening?"

"We may be sold as slaves, Amanda," and slavery will bring me neither meaning nor respectability. Shit.

"What kind of slaves?" Before landing, I would have been thrilled to have a master, someone to do with me as he pleases. Now, with all these approving eyes, I'm finally starting to feel confident, even liberated. I want everyone to see me naked, and grow out my fringe, she no longer hid behind it, but I'm not sure I want a master.

"They aren't sure."

"I'm sure we'll be separated." Jane wasn't bothered by the thought.

I'll be happy not to see you again, but I'm fond of Amanda's charms. Reclining and bound as she was, Nate could not help but admire her beauty.

"Don't even think about it," Jane warned.

"What?" The talk of impending slavery had deflated Nate's manhood, but his latest review of Amanda's assets had revived him.

"Don't even think about it. I'm not sitting here watching you bonk her while we're carried through the streets of Rome on this bed. Don't ... even ... think about it."

Oh Nate. I love having that effect on you. We shouldn't have intercourse here though, where people can see us...unless you want to...but Jane has said no. I won't allow you to do that, unless you really want to. Oh Lord, I'm flitting between liberation and submission, but then, Amanda closed her eyes, submission can be so liberating.

Nate sighed loudly, pondering their situation.

"Nate?"

"Yes."

"Untie me...please." Will he do it?

"Sure." Without someone to remind me, I always forget to untie her. He did, and lay beside Amanda to contemplate their predicament.

I was forceful. He did as I asked!

Sarah? Where's her ruby ring? Nate sat up and looked at Jane; Sarah's arms are gone. "What have you done with Sarah's arms, Jane?"

"I threw them away."

"You cold-hearted bitch. Why?"

"Because when we get to wherever it is they're taking us, not only are they going to ask us how we got here, they will also ask about her arms. How are you going to explain that, you fucking idiot?"

The bitch has a point. "The ring? You threw away her ring?"

"Yes," Jane lied. It was in her pocket.

"Now who's the idiot? We could've traded it for money. I'm sure we're going to need some." Idiot. Wait. There's a bulge in her pocket. Lying bitch. Nate returned to Amanda's side and stared up at the sky. Poor Sarah. She was nice and... "What are they?" he asked Amanda, pointing straight up.

"What?" Amanda had been looking sideways at people admiring her.

"Up there. Up in the sky. Two of them. One looks to have silver hair and another white hair. And there...and there...and there's another one too. They're all over the place."

Jane looked up. "They look like little men flying naked on clear little disks."

"I don't think they're all men, Jane. The one with white hair has bare breasts and a skirt. The silver-haired one has a cloth wrapped around his penis. Why are they all going in that direction, Nate? All of them except those two, and why are those two looking at us?" Or are they looking at me?

"I don't know. Look over there. One's going...south?"

In no more than a minute all the flyers had dispersed. Wherever they were going, they were going there fast.

Where are we? Nate thought. We aren't in modern Rome anymore, and with those people in the sky we sure as hell aren't in ancient Rome. It does look like ancient Rome though. And one of those flyers looked like the man I saw outside the window on my first day at Jane's.

"Ouch." Amanda said with a girlie screech and slapped her bottom. "Something bit me."

Nate stood to close the bed's insect curtains, sat down, and playfully slapped Amanda's bare arse. "Sorry. I thought I saw another one."

"You're naughty, Nate." Amanda smiled and slapped his thigh.

Rolling onto his side, Nate rolled onto one of the phones. His fingerprint unlocked it. It can't be Jane's. Why is the clock racing? It must have been screwed by the nuke. It had been about seven p.m. when we returned from dinner. I enjoyed Amanda for maybe...thirty minutes? The two thousand years of time travel and arguments with Jane had lasted maybe another thirty. Not that it really matters. If this is ancient Rome, I doubt they have a mobile phone network, even with little men flying around. The clock was going so fast that a minute ticked over in a second.

There's a message. "Are you OK?" It was from Bart. As if answering is going to work from here, Nate thought but sent one final message anyway. "Sitting on a bed, fine and dandy, waiting to be sold into slavery."

A reply came a split second after he hit send. "Slavery? My GPS says you're in Rome. How did you survive the nuke? They used one of those high-radiation bombs, killing everyone and leaving the buildings."

The phone works?!? I'm still in touch with the future?

"You might as well play with your dick as play with that, you fucking idiot. As if it will work here."

"It does."

"Does what?"

"Work!"

Jane shook her head. "You're an idiot. First you say all the dates are wrong and Italians shouldn't be speaking Italian. Now you tell me they have a mobile phone network here in ancient Rome, which is where we seem to be," Jane said, looking around and pointing a finger at him. "You're a fucking idiot."

"Well, mine's working, so try yours." Nate dialled Bart, but when the call connected he could hear only a screech. He tried again and achieved the same result. "I can text, but the phone isn't working," Nate sent. The reply was immediate. How can he text so quickly?

"I answered your call, but there was only a slow drone. Maybe it's a tech issue caused by the nuke."

"The time on my phone is going really fast. Is yours? Have you heard from Trev? Is he OK?"

"No, no, and I don't think so."

What's happening? Nate set the time on the phone to calculate internally rather than from the satellite feed, and it slowed down immediately. Now I need the local time, day, and year. He hid the phone, pulled back the insect curtain, and in his poor Italian pointed at his wrist and asked, "Boy. Time?"

Scaevola looked from Nate's face to Nate's wrist and back up again. "Time?"

Having seen the interplay, Jane weighed in. "I don't think he would know what a wristwatch is."

Yes, that was pretty stupid. This time, waving his hand from the sun to the ground and up again a few times to indicate a sundial, Nate asked again, "Time?"

Scaevola shrugged and asked Paulus and Longinus for the time of day, but it was Vergilius who answered. "Between the eighth and ninth hour. Perhaps."

Nate knew 11 a.m. was the Roman fifth hour and that 4 p.m. was the Roman tenth hour, which meant it must be around 2:30 p.m. He set his phone to that.

"Day? What day?" Nate kept his sentences short, thinking longer ones in poor Italian may confuse them.

"Monday," Scaevola replied.

"Month?"

"July." Scaevola enjoyed talking with the stranger.

"Year?"

"Year?" Scaevola did not know and looked to the others for help.

"Yes. What year?"

The Romans all shrugged, not knowing the year. Nate closed the insect curtain and began entering the date into his phone. Caligula had ruled around 40 AD, so he entered that into the phone. Computers won't accept dates before 1900. I guess none of the software companies ever envisaged me needing to set my phone to 40 AD. As he had come from Sunday, July 23, 2045, he decided he needed a Monday in July, and he wanted it to be the twenty-third, because it was the twenty-third when he'd left modern Rome. Playing around until he got Monday, July 23, 1951, I'll just have to pretend the year on my phone is 40 AD. Close enough.

While Nate was fixing his phone, Jane had contacted Alex. Meanwhile, Amanda held her cross in one hand, Nate's excited manhood in her other, and smiled at the men and women who smiled at her. Each consumed in their own world, they stopped what they were doing when the bed landed with a thud. They had been unceremoniously dropped to the paving stones between the Arch of Constantine and the Colosseum. All their bed bearers walked away, apart from the boy, the two men who had found them, and the one who had held Nate's balls on his sword.

"Shit. We must have passed the Forum and I didn't even notice it." Nate stood, turned off his phone and tried to put it in his back pocket, remembered he wasn't wearing pants, and threw the phone onto the bed. Looking towards the Colosseum, his eyes were drawn to a curvaceous woman with red and white ribbons streaming from her hair and waist. With her long, dark and wavy hair, from behind she was the image of...Sarah? It can't be. She disappeared into a crowd, and though he craned his neck to find her, she was lost to him and his heart was racing.

"Nate. Nate." With him not hearing her, Amanda tugged rather than fondled and Nate looked down with raised eyebrows in response.

"Didn't Jesus live around this time?" she asked still holding her cross. "Could we go to Israel to find Him?"

"What? ...Oh...He was crucified before Caligula became emperor, and that was in Judea, not Israel." Where is that woman?

"Oh."

"But..." I'll probably never see her again, "the Colosseum was built about...I don't know...two or three hundred years before the Arch of Constantine, and both weren't around when Caligula was emperor, according to the history I know, and yet here they are. And look over there," he said, pointing towards where they had landed. "There is no Arch of Titus, and that does make sense." Nate paused, looked for the ribboned girl again, and then to the cross around Amanda's neck. "Constantine began his reign as a pagan emperor, and eventually turned Rome toward Christianity. If he has been and gone, Rome may already be Christian which means Jesus has also been and gone. I don't believe this."

"So you can believe a nuclear bomb can transport us back two thousand years to ancient fucking Rome, but you can't believe the things around you once you get there? Forget the dates and deal with it, you idiot."

"Datemi una spada!" (Get me a sword!) Nate shouted in frustration while thrusting an imaginary sword towards Jane.

"As if you can use one." Jane knew Nate had "played swords" with Alex and her fencing friend. "Playing with Alex is a world away from knowing how to kill with a sword."

VI

"Is he asking for battle?" Longinus posed.

"I think so." Paulus smiled broadly. "Centurion, the man is asking for battle."

"Yes, I heard. You and you, take him over there and clear an area. You, boy, get Laurentius. That bloodthirsty bastard will enjoy this," as will I thought Vergilius. "I will continue on to Titus for instructions on the fate of the women."

VI

"Well, you've done it now, you fucking idiot."

"Datemi una spada!" She knows how to press my buttons.

VI

Paulus and Longinus ripped down the insect curtain, threw it aside, and grabbed an ankle each to pull Nate's feet out from under him and drag him off the bed, his back hitting the ground with a thud.

"You will get your sword soon enough, foreigner, and if you are lucky, Laurentius will kill you quickly. I do not believe in luck," Longinus said with glee as he looked down at Nate.

Nate understood enough Italian to know that at least one of his new mates held little hope for him. The guardsmen grabbed an arm each to pull him to his feet, and, being taller than both, Nate did not look down on them kindly. Not that they noticed as they led him away from the amphitheatrum towards his death.

"This should be fun to watch." Paulus slapped his own thigh. "Were you there when Laurentius killed that big Gaul? I thought he would have his hands full, but Laurentius toyed with the man. He cut one Achilles tendon to cripple the barbarian, then chopped off his sword hand and killed him with dozens of small cuts. He kept the big Gaul alive for some time, cutting off a foot and then his genitals before slicing his throat to cut off his head and raise it on his sword. Laurentius is a sadistic bastard."

This is Jane's fault. That bitch got me into this.

Punching Nate in the lower back to drive him to his knees, Paulus drew and pointed his sword at the back of Nate's neck, ordering him not to move.

"Allontanarsi. Allontanarsi." "Move away," Longinus called as he traced a circle in the dirt, roughly thirty feet in diameter, and cleared people from within it. Although the ground was uneven with small rocks sticking up, Longinus judged it good enough to butcher the stranger. A fight is a pity because we will receive no coin from the man's sale, but I love a good slaughter. This will be a precursor to the opening on the amphitheatrum.

Shortly after the area was prepared, a giant of a man, muscular and solid, strode into the arena. He wore sandals, a long leather loincloth, leather arm guards and an eager smile. He held a gladius, his short sword, in his right hand.

Alessandro was righthanded too, Alex's fencing tutor. This dumb prick must be Laurentius. He has arrogance, but not intelligence, in his eyes. With the back of his hand Nate wiped sweat from his brow. His heartbeat and breath both quickened. Breathe deeply, steady yourself, and think. This has to be a fight to the death, so I don't need to placate the bastard.

The barbarian fights naked! Laurentius threw his loincloth to the ground, thrilled to do battle Greek-style. It gave him an opportunity to display his appendage, and strode around the hastily convened arena challenging any man to show him a bigger one. The men are shamed and the women want me.

"My God," Nate said, looking up from his kneeling position. "He must be part donkey." This guy wouldn't just lay women; he'd skewer them.

"What did he say?" Paulus asked of Scaevola.

Scaevola had returned from his errand with a sword in one hand and a cloth in the other. "I think he said Laurentius looks like a donkey." Paulus smiled, leaving Longinus to guard their prisoner to pass Nate's views onto Laurentius. Laurentius did not take it kindly.

"Did you little pricks have to pass that onto him?"

"What did he say?" Longinus asked again.

"I think he said we all have little dicks."

Longinus kicked Nate between the shoulder blades, knocking him onto all fours. On his return, Paulus kicked Nate as well, causing Nate to roll onto his back. The guardsmen then delivered kicks to his head.

Raising himself to his knees, his head in his hands with blood from his nose running through his fingers, Nate's head was spinning with pain, and the remnants of saké. I need to find a better interpreter, or work on my meet and greet technique, or better still keep my mouth shut. I'm not making too many friends here. The young boy Scaevola dropped a sword in front of him. I can't pick that up until my head's clear. He was hoping Laurentius would not attack an unarmed man.

The two guardsmen and the boy moved away to stand behind Nate to watch the slaughter. With the gathering crowd remaining outside the line drawn in the dirt, Nate was left at the centre of a circle of spectators with only a sword between him and death.

Laurentius moved counter clockwise around his prey, not attacking, as Nate had hoped, but chomping at the bit to commence his butchery. "Raccoglierlo, RACCOGLIERLO!" (Pick it up. PICK IT UP!)

Not yet. Nate's mind was still foggy. His senses had narrowed, his hearing focused on the footfalls of his opponent. He lifted his head, turning it to the right, to where he'd last heard Laurentius, and then rocked back to sit on his arse, arms reaching behind him for stability.

"RACCOGLIERLO, RACCOGLIERLO."

"ASINO," Nate shouted. Oh shit, my head hurts.

No need for Scaevola to translate. Being called a donkey for the second time, now publicly, was transforming Laurentius into an angry ball of muscle. "RACCOGLIERLO, RACCOGLIERLO!" His face was blood red and the veins in his neck and arms were bulging.

"Don't charge in recklessly," Alessandro had advised Nate during fencing lessons. If I can keep pissing this guy off, maybe he'll do something reckless. Maybe. Any chance is better than none. "Stay balanced" was another piece of advice Nate remembered. Looking around, he noticed the ground was uneven and littered with rocks for trip points.

Though Laurentius was muscular and strong, he was also heavy and slow. By contrast, Nate was confident in his speed and agility. He needed to clear his head, shook it, then massaged his temples. If I can trip the bastard up, who knows...

Still sitting, Nate let his head roll back and saw Scaevola standing behind him. "To the death?"

"Yes."

This would've been a good time to be wrong. Oh well. Looking at the surrounding crowd, Nate knew there was nowhere to run. What were those Italian insults again?

Waiting a little longer until his head was almost clear, Nate timed his insults to coincide with Laurentius arriving on his left where the ground separating them was at its rockiest. He then stood and shouted, "ASINO, PAZZO, DISCARICA DI LETAME PUBBLICA, STUPIDO, DONNA CHE RUTTA!" Nate had used all the insults he could remember and hoped his pronunciation was correct.

The ever-increasing crowd responded with shocked "oohs." Shouts of "uccidi il barbaro" (kill the barbarian) and "ammazza il selvaggio" (slay the savage) told him his pronunciation had been good enough. Bending to pick up his sword, Nate made a show of looking unbalanced.

How dare this piece of dog excrement, this trash born of a whore, call ME, Laurentius, champion of the second legion, a donkey, a fool, a public manure heap, a blockhead, and a woman who burps. Seeing his prey now armed and unbalanced, Laurentius unleashed his anger, charging in with hatred overflowing to run straight towards the bent-over fool, confident that the piece of garbage would buckle on first contact. This scum will die now.

Hearing Laurentius charge, Nate turned to his left to face the man, spread his legs for balance, and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet.

If Laurentius had not been so incensed, he might have noticed his opponent's new stance and paused his charge. When Nate moved to his right, Laurentius tried to change his course but tripped on a rock and lashed out with his sword as he stumbled past Nate.

As Laurentius faltered past him, Nate felt his stomach burn and saw his opportunity. He spun to slash his own blade at the back of the man's legs, hoping to sever a tendon or at least cut enough muscle to cripple or slow his opponent. He felt the edge of his sword make contact, and watched Laurentius fall to his hands and knees. Nate mentally thanked Paulus for the idea of crippling Laurentius, but the fight was only starting. While still on the ground, the Roman turned to face Nate, and then rose to his feet.

"SHIT," Nate said through gritted teeth. Not looking down, he placed his hand on his burning stomach and felt what he assumed to be warm blood. It was of no matter, the fight to the death had to continue.

"He calls him shit," interpreted Scaevola to Paulus and Longinus, and the now-quiet crowd heard too. Nate's unexpected good start and apparent confidence shocked them.

The Roman champion's eyes were bulging in anger, anger that quickly turned to shock as he wobbled and tumbled back onto his arse. Moving onto hands and knees, Laurentius again tried to rise, only to fall again, this time to his left. As he lay on the ground, he looked up at his opponent. The shock that had replaced the anger in his eyes was now replaced with questions. Who is this man that now stands balanced for attack? His sword arm is bent and close to his body. He looks a warrior ready for battle. Laurentius realised he had been goaded into anger, his life now in the balance due to his quick temper.

Some startled, some reappraising, the crowd also looked at Nate with different eyes.

Paulus and Longinus were to Nate's right, and did not like what they were seeing. How could this man who looked so soft be capable of crippling the great Laurentius? He has tricked Laurentius. Tricky fighters were dangerous. If this man won, which now appeared likely, they would need to subdue him before returning him to Titus; subduing a gladiator would not be easy.

What to do? Laurentius' training told him to think. Thinking was not one of his strengths, and he was too arrogant to know it. If I was him, I would move in slowly and cut me to pieces at my leisure. Most would not though. Most would move in quickly to finish. That is what this man will do. When he does, I will throw my sword to bury it in his chest. I will live.

Don't rush in. He's experienced, you've been lucky so far, lucky enough to catch him off guard, but not experienced enough to know how to finish his opponent without risking further injury to himself. Think. He can't move far. You have no need to rush in as he did. Think!

VI

A short distance from the fight, Aelia Silanus, wife of the late vigneron Quintus Caecilius Metellus Creticus Silanus, prepared to go shopping in the Forum. Rather than send a slave for fruit as other patricians would, Aelia liked to choose her own. She also enjoyed listening to the orators she passed. The walk from her home on the Palatine Hill behind the House of Augustus would be especially pleasant today because her friend Milonia Caesonia was to accompany her. Milonia, who at twenty-two was younger than Aelia, was to help Aelia choose new footwear, and find something for herself to impress a new beau.

VI

As Nate was dragged away, Jane and Amanda were left to themselves on the bed. Considering the way Nate had been treated, Jane decided to speak up.

"Do the people of this city have no manners? Where can a lady gain refreshment?" She had used her best Italian, hoping to gain the attention of someone in power and convey the message she was a woman of substance. She was determined not to let them think they could drag her away.

Alas for Jane, her foreign accent made it obvious she was not Roman.

"I am sure your new master will be only too happy to serve you in whatever way he desires," a sleazy-looking little man said as he walked up to the bed. He looked in need of a good meal, and others passing the bed sniggered at his words. "My name is Tertius. I have been sent by Prefect Titus." When Jane tried to introduce herself, Tertius held up a hand. "I have no need of your words. Show me your teeth."

"I beg your pardon?" Jane put her hands on her hips.

"Show me your teeth."

"I am not a horse." She slapped his hand away.

"And by that tongue, you are also not Roman. Iulius, come here." A big, square-headed man with dull eyes emerged and backhanded Jane across the face, knocking her and her phone from the bed to the cobblestones. Lying on her side, the acrid taste of blood quickly filled Jane's mouth.

"Raise her."

Iulius grabbed Jane by the hair and lifted her to her feet. She held her face.

"Remove your hands from your face so I may speak with you."

Jane towered over Tertius, his masculinity challenged by her height. In shock and pain Jane did not hear him speak and once again found herself sent to the ground by the back of Iulius' hand.

"Raise her," Tertius ordered. "Remove your hands from your face, you tiresome woman, so that I may speak to you."

Jane did nothing and was close to receiving a third blow when Amanda jumped up from the bed to pull Jane's hands from her face. Amanda could not speak Italian, but she deduced what the greasy man wanted. Despite the poor treatment she had received from Jane, Amanda could not watch her beaten.

For her interference, Iulius was about to punch Amanda in the face when Tertius held out a hand. "Not her. Unmarked, she will fetch a good price at the Saepta." Tertius placed his hands on Amanda's shoulders and gently encouraged her to sit on the bed, ogling and fondling his inventory as he did. Her skin is silk, his mouth curled into a smile.

Sitting on the bed, Amanda crossed her legs, flicked back her hair with one hand, pushed out her chest, and returned the slave traders smile.

Returning to Jane while glancing back to Amanda, Tertius asked, "From where did you buy those clothes?"

Jane was still stunned but now listening. "Sydney."

"Sidanee? Where is Sidanee?"

"Australia."

"Ohstrayla? Where is Ohstrayla?"

"Two thousand years away."

His face darkened. "What do you mean by that?"

Jane had to prevent her sharp tongue from lashing the sleazy little piece of shit in front of her. "I do not know how to get there from here. I do not know how I arrived here."

"Well. By order of Caligula, all slaves may keep one personal item. What will be yours?" Tertius hoped she would not choose her clothes. She was close to the same size as his wife. Unusual as they were, they hugged every curve of the woman's body and had a curious tick symbol on them. It was the same tick he used when marking slaves off his lists. Even her shoes had the tick on them.

Jane saw only two choices, the ruby ring or her phone. The ring is as good as money. She placed it on the same finger Sarah had used.

"Very well. You are keeping the ring. Take off your clothes and place them there." Tertius pointed to the bed.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, take off all your clothes and place them there." Again, he pointed to the bed.

"I can't walk around naked," Bald Barbara argued. Unknown to Jane, slaves in ancient Rome were presented naked for inspection to enable faults to be seen. Signs would be hung around each slave's neck detailing age, skills, and defects. If the standard six-month warranty were not to be provided, the slave would wear a hat.

Jane hit the ground again as Iulius walloped her with the back of his hand. Standing, Jane removed her clothes and threw them onto the bed. When finished, she glared at him. The little bastard can have his meat-headed mongrel beat me, but I'll not cower to them. Jane stood straight and tall, arms crossed.

The woman must be near forty but her defiance and bald crotch are appealing. If no one buys her, I might throw in a few coins myself to replace that slave I lost last week. Tertius liked to gamble. "Open your mouth."

Jane opened her mouth, but she was too tall for little Tertius to see into it. Tertius gave Iulius an amused look, and Iulius grabbed Jane by the hair to pull her to her knees, her head back and mouth open for inspection.

Strange. Her teeth are in near perfect condition. The slave trader did not recognise fillings that were the same colour as her teeth. Waving a hand to signal Iulius to release her, Tertius determined the slave was in good condition. With a little fattening, she could keep me satisfied on cold nights. His wife had to endure his infidelities. As he turned away from her, Jane took the opportunity to retrieve her phone.

Amanda then noticed a large, tanned, and hard-looking man wearing a long leather loincloth, carrying a sword, and moving with haste in the direction Nate had been taken.

"Jane, look there. Do you think he's the one Nate is to fight?"

"Probably." Jane quickly found herself on the ground.

"Stop speaking that gibberish, and tell her to stop speaking it too," Tertius commanded.

Iulius pulled Jane back up to her feet and pushed her in the face back onto the bed.

Amanda held little hope for Nate's survival. Jane held her face.

It was now Amanda's turn to be inspected. Tertius ran his eyes and hands over her, enjoying everything he saw and touched. Unable and unwilling to assist, Jane left Amanda to her fate, believing the slave trader could ill afford to damage the fine young goods he was inspecting. She used her time to turn off their phones and place all three under a pillow. It was an act of defiance that stopped her from feeling helpless, a state she had tired of long ago.

Others are watching as he inspects me. Amanda placed her hands on her hips and stared into the eyes of all who watched her, glad to still be wearing her heels.

VI

With the Forum in sight, Aelia noticed a large crowd to her right, not far from the Arch of Constantine. From the noise they made, she assumed there to be a dispute in progress and wondered why Praetorian Guards were not there to control it. A break in the crowd gave her a better view, and she noticed a barbarian standing naked with a sword, his wild, shoulder-length fair hair, hunted eyes and unshaved face in contrast to his sculpted, bronzed, and hairless body. Whilst a sword fight should not be happening in such a place, the colouring of the man almost stopped her heart. He reminded her of a slave she had once purchased and a baby she would dearly love to hold. She moved closer, running her fingers through her hair to push long auburn strands behind her ears.

Milonia, totally uninterested in gladiatorial affairs, continued to the Forum - the shops beckoned.

VI

Watching Laurentius, Nate moved to grab the cloth Scaevola held.

The boy probably had it for Laurentius to wipe my blood away. Nate made a show of wiping Laurentius' blood from his sword, throwing the bloodied cloth at the face of Paulus, and spitting at the feet of Longinus. So much for making friends! Oh well. They're already pissed off with me, so why not piss them off some more?

"If you survive this, you will be the first one fed to the lions at the opening," Longinus hissed, pointing to the amphitheatrum.

Growing up, Nate had loved watching the Olympic opening ceremonies, but the opening ceremony at the Colosseum wasn't the Olympics. Maybe I shouldn't have 'pissed them off a bit more.' It's done now. I'll enjoy this while I can.

Nate noticed from the ground surrounding Laurentius that the man was losing a lot of blood. Unless someone stemmed the flow, Laurentius would die.

I can watch him die, but how long will that take? And he might lose consciousness and die painlessly. Bugger that! The sadistic prick deserves to die in pain. That's what he planned for me; death by a hundred cuts. Cut off one hand or both, keep the bastard alive so he knows his fate, and use his tactics against him, the tactics those two little pricks gleefully shared with me.

With his head clearing and his body primed with adrenalin, Nate was possessed of a bloodlust he had never known before. Time was moving slowly. Everything was clear and focused. He watched Laurentius rise to his knees with his sword in his hand, only to straighten and wobble again. The man was weakening faster than Nate had anticipated. Move in, move now, or the arsehole could die before receiving his dues.

Laurentius saw his chance. Just a little further, scum, and you will be in range. Come on. Just a little further. YES. Summoning all his energy, Laurentius threw his sword with both hands from behind his head, straight towards his opponent's heart.

The sword landed at Nate's feet, and he bent to pick it up. He had seen it coming, judged its trajectory, and knew it would not reach him. To those watching, the savage looked calm and fearless. After his training with Alessandro, Nate could feel that the sword of Laurentius had superior balance to the one the boy had been given him and decided to use it for the kill. Nate threw the lesser blade to land between Laurentius' outstretched arms.

"Raccoglierlo, RACCOGLIERLO!" Nate shouted and moved to stand outside the champion's reach. Time for some fun. Before the fun started, Nate, tired of being naked, picked up the loincloth that Laurentius had proudly thrown to the ground.

Stepping to his left, Nate turned to slash the sword arm of Laurentius, leaving it attached by only a thin strip of sinew below the elbow. Another stroke and it was free. He picked it up, turned his back on Laurentius, threw the limb into the crowd before him and enjoyed watching them scattered to avoid it.

Which body part will I sever next ... his left foot?

"Aargh." Something had hit Nate's left Achilles'.

With his remaining hand, Laurentius had picked up the discarded sword and slashed it towards the foreigner. It was perhaps his final opportunity with his last piece of energy.

No blood. Thank Christ for that. Nate's Achilles' hadn't been severed, though a bruise was a certainty. Laurentius, weakened by blood loss, had only made contact with the face of the sword. Nate kicked the sword from Laurentius' hand and then kicked the man in the head and torso until he rolled onto his back. With the tip of his sword, Nate turned Laurentius' head to face him. Their eyes made contact, one set looking down with malice while the other looked up in resignation. Raising his sword above his head, Nate brought it down with both hands.

Laurentius closed his eyes and stiffened in expectation of a blow that did not come. He waited a moment before re-opening them.

Now! With the eyes of his would-be killer open, Nate completed his stroke. Two more strokes and the champions head had been severed. Nate skewered it with his sword and raised above his head. Sweaty, dirty, and victorious, I feel like a gladiator. The only thing missing is the crowd roaring my name.

"Grazie Alessandro," Nate shouted to the sky in appreciation of his fencing teacher. His grip on the sword faltered, and he looked up to see the cause: blood was running down the blade from the severed head, its face contorted in pain. Better his blood than mine. Walking to stand before one of his newfound mates, Nate lowered the severed head to the guard's eyes level and spoke in his best Italian. "Paulus, friend, I thank for advice. Trophy for you."

Despite his barbarian grammar, Nate's meaning was clear and the crowd stared daggers at Paulus. It was not what anyone had expected to hear.

"Why did that guardsman help the barbarian?"

"Why aid him to slay a champion?"

Paulus appeared to move to accept the trophy, only to knee Nate in the balls and drop him to the ground for the second time in one day. On the way down, Nate's free hand instinctively grabbed his crotch, leaving the sword butt of Longinus an unchallenged path to the side of Nate's head. The newest gladiator in Rome was unconscious before his face hit the dirt.

After repeatedly kicking Nate's limp form in retribution, Paulus and Longinus began dragging him back to Titus.

"What advice did you give him?"

"I DID NOT. You heard what I said." Paulus reminded Longinus of recent events.

Scaevola walked behind the three, upright, poised but pensive, admiring how the strange man had beaten Laurentius with brains not brawn, and speculating if the man was also honest. I would have much safer life with a smart honest man than with the likes of Paulus and Longinus. I wonder if he will survive the day.

VI

"It is done, yes. His wisdom is boundless. Our Lord's timing was impeccable."

"Most wise," silver-haired Buzzeere agreed, bowing his head. "Using the explosion to hide our use of Travelling will leave the man unaware of our powers. But should not the Lord have delayed until His son is prepared, no?"

"The time of the Son of our Lord is near. Our place is to act on instruction."

At one hundred, Buzzeere was young for an elder, still more questioning than accepting. "What of the man now, and his women? We had no instruction for them, no. And what if the man fails, or refuses the task?"

Sos looked down her nose at her questioner. "If he fails he will lose our aid and remain a slave; the contacts we shall give him we can also take away. If he refuses, eternity in the realm of the Shining One awaits. But I expect the man will survive, become Roman, and forge alliances for the tasks our Lord has for him. Of the women, I know not. The Lord will guide us if He has purpose for them."

"I am regretful if my questions offend your sense of duty, my elder." Buzzeere again bowed his head to Sos. "However, questions are a pathway to understanding. Do you have insight into when he shall Travel back to his time?"

"The timing is neither in my hands nor awareness, no. We are to deliver him, structure his life and protect him, yes. Let us hope the Shining One does not complicate our task, and prefers to focus his interest in the human emperor and the emperor's friends. Come. It is time to eat, yes."

"His other task. It will take longer than the first, yes?"

"Long enough to most likely fall to his heirs."

"I suspect he may know the second, without knowing if it will fall to him, his son, or his son's issue. He pointed to Constantine's Arch, in his timeline the first Christian Emperor of Rome. I am certain he queried its presence. He sees the meaning, yes."

"His son? You believe human females have not the courage, nor strength, to change their world?"

"No Sos. But the humans, their ways are different. Roman males possess their females; they objectify and use them. There is Glade." Buzzeere found a welcome change of subject in a young Leluuwahn flying slowly to the south. "He flies to view the human female again. Should I stop him, yes?"

"No. Such contact is discouraged, not forbidden. I suspect Glade's interest in humans may play some part in our Lord's plans, yes."

VI

Through the crowd that had been gathered around the fight, Julia had seen the fair haired, wild barbarian hold aloft the head of a legionnaire, and then watched guardsmen subdue and arrest him. A man such as that would be a challenge to tame, a puzzle to solve. Gaius and Mother would not approve, and I would need to leave the temple. With a man like him I would never know what was coming next. And he is completely hairless. Venus but he is attractive, and unfortunately out of my reach as a Virgin. Julia twirled her hair through her fingers as she watched Nate being dragged away.

# Chapter 7

# Aub's Razor Whip

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 2pm

## The Future - July 23, 2045 7.30pm

Hovering a thousand feet above the eternal city, his Crystal Shield strapped to his feet, Glade surveyed the human activity below him from the middle of a clear blue sky. He was safe from human arrows, able to relax after a morning of working in the fields of the Plateau, the Leluuwahn homeland. The Plateau topped a cliff north of Rome, protected from attack by its geography. Crouched on his haunches, and eating nuts he had earlier squirrelled away in the small compartment in the centre of his Shield, Glade pondered what mission his elders must have for the three humans they had Travelled from the future.

To enlighten them? No. Our elders could do that in the future. The Lords work, yes. He looked at the angle of his shadow on the ground far below. I must be off.

Glade knew his friends Febreeze and Sarai were nervous. They had been preparing as a couple for ten years. Now fifty, they had reached the minimum age for breeding, and the elders would today decide if they were ready. Today was the Selection, where sensibility, responsibility, work ethics, logical behaviour, and devotion to the Lord mattered most. The Selection would commence three hours past midday. Without a partner, Glade could not nominate for selection.

Living for 250 years or more gave the Leluuwahn a longer thought horizon than the humans, though longevity placed the limited resources of the Plateau, and consequently their culture, under pressure. Their homeland was only capable of supporting one thousand of their people. Couples were allowed to breed between the ages of fifty and one hundred so that in most years only two couples applied. The maximum number of children per couple was four. The higher limit allowed the elders to deny unsuitable couples the opportunity to breed.

It had not always been this way. Generations before, the humans had forced Glade's people from their land. Most had retreated to the Plateau, but some, referred to by his people as cousins, had gone Elsewhere. Not an elder, Glade did not know where Elsewhere was, and on clear nights he would gaze at the stars from which his people had come in search of a sign. The change of location had not affected their purpose, to serve their Lord as their Lord required. They were safe on the Plateau. Humans, without the gift of flight from the sacred bush, could not reach them. Although humans had captured some Leluuwahn, a sacred bush and one Crystal Shield, they had yet to discover the secret of flight.

Glade would today use his time before the Selection to watch the humans. Humans intrigued him with their cruelty, their insatiable desire for control, their slavery, and more recently cannibalism. They were a truly interesting species to study, yes. To study effectively, he needed to get closer than the distance allowed by the elders. The human farmhouse, nine leagues to the south of Rome on the northern shore of a small lake, was his place of learning. Flying there would take only a short time.

VII

She is there again, yes. Glade saw the dark haired woman through an upper floor western window, busy on her bed with the autumn sun shining into her room. She had flawless milky skin, black painted fingernails, and full breasts. Humans were not so different in shape from Glade's kind that he could not appreciate their beauty. She mates with another. The woman sat astride a portly male, facing the window, he focused on the movement of her breasts.

His thinning grey hair, generous girth, and short frame should make him an unsuitable mate for such a female. Human mating habits are intriguing.

Glade met her eyes, and warm smiles spread across their faces. Over the many times he had watched from outside the window, she had always smiled nicely. Surely, that warm smile is attached to a warm heart, yes? She motioned for him to open the window and enter the room. Although he liked her, Glade was not yet sure if he could trust her. The human male trusted her, yes. He had allowed his hands and feet to be tied to the corners of the bed with strands of blue velvet. The man arched his back and shuddered. It was unusual for Glade to find her without a male beneath her.

Glade flew to the next window, on the southern side, to look for the other woman, the one with long, dark hair. She was the only other woman he knew to visit the farmhouse. The first was often there, but the second only occasionally. While the first would have sex with men of all ages and physiques, the second's preference was exclusive to attractive young males. Why is that so, and why is the second one never welcoming? She appeared embarrassed by his presence, though like the first, never alerted her male companions to his presence. She was not present today.

Departing the farmhouse, Glade flew over the river Tiber. There were open places along the riverbank where Glade and his friends could feel comfortable, able to sit, relax and dangle their feet in the cool running water of the river while one flew high to keep guard. Humans would always take opportunities to attack Leluuwahn.

With his keen eyes, Glade found Sarai and Febreeze sitting by the river, on a log on the last large bend before the Tyrrhenian Sea. Facing the river is dangerous, yes. Their only vigilance was towards each other. To be on human-controlled land with no guards was not approved for good reason, and three reasons were approaching them from behind. Able to see the humans, but without the telepathy of the elders, Glade was too far away to warn his friends.

VII

"Do you believe we will be selected, Febreeze?" Sarai had a stick in her left hand, tracing a heart in the river sand. She had known Febreeze since birth, their families from neighbouring huts. At five feet, Febreeze was tall. Only Beanpod was taller amongst their people. Both Glade and Febreeze were good men, and she loved them both dearly. A decade earlier her family had chosen Febreeze over Glade as her mate, deciding her chances of selection to be greater with the sensible and reliable youth; his were traits the elders sought.

"Surely, we must. We are both of age, work hard, obey our elders, and are in good health. I believe three couples, including us, have put themselves forward, yes. One couple has been denied for ten Selections. They must be considered unsuitable; although, knowing Wave and Sky, I cannot understand why, no. Surely, we will be s—"

Something stung Sarai's nose as it flashed past her face. Bringing her hand up to rub the sting, she noticed blood on her fingers. I have been bitten? Strange. Midge bugs do not draw blood. Holding her hand out to show the blood to Febreeze, she realised he had stopped talking. His eyes stared blankly ahead.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Febreeze. Febreeze, are you well?" He gave no answer. Touching his shoulder, she froze in horror as his head tumbled to the sand at his feet, eyes open and staring to the sky. Sarai could not move. She could not think. Her shaking hands went to her face.

Wearing chainmail gloves, Aub rolled up his razor whip, attached it to his leather belt, and with an accomplice at each shoulder moved to claim his prize. Selling the Leluuwahn female to the imperial brothel would give them coin to last a year.

VII

Glade watched as the humans placed Sarai sideways across the rump of a pack horse, powerless to help her. They mounted their horses to commence what would be a two-hour ride at walking pace to the human city. Glade could see that the men knew he watched them; they held up captured Shields to him like trophies. With Sarai's head down at the horse's side, Glade was unsure if she knew he was near. The Leluuwahn were not quick to anger or seek revenge, but Glade's level temperament was being tested. He flew higher to take time to think.

Being captured in my attempt to rescue her would do her no good, no. The Leluuwahn elders would not sanction a rescue attempt, nor would they barter for the release of one so careless as to be captured; the legendary tale of Crystal's ensnarement proclaimed that. The humans knew the Leluuwahn possessed no weapons, and no aggression to use them if they did. The Leluuwahn would not barter away their Shields, not even for the female who invented them.

What to do? Perhaps give myself to the humans and hope to rescue her from within? That would not work, no. No one taken captive has escaped. Some had been seen from above, yes, but none have returned from Rome.

The Lost? No, they are outcasts who rarely venture to the city. I will need help from within Rome, yes. The woman at the farmhouse? I could fly back to her. And Scaevola; a young boy, yes, but a good friend, and I saw him in the city with the humans from the future.

Glade waited, hovering over the large marble building where Sarai had been taken. He could wait until she came out, but that would not help her. He did not know what the female at the farmhouse could do other than engage in sex, but she had many times motioned for him to enter. Perhaps she wants to engage in sex with me? If that is required to secure Sarai's release, I will do it, more than once if need be. I will forfeit my pride for Sarai.

Ready to fly to the farmhouse, Glade saw the humans who had captured Sarai exit the building. From the steps they looked up at him, pointing and taunting. The one with the whip untied it from his hip, rolled it to the ground, and motioned for Glade to come down. The man laughed and made a slicing motion with his hand across his throat, rolling his head with his tongue hanging out. The others roared with laughter and held their groins, mimicking thrusting motions. The implication was clear: Sarai had been used.

How could the death of Febreeze and the abuse of Sarai be amusing, something to boast of? Glade would need to inform their parents, but that could wait, as would recovering the body of Febreeze. Febreeze was dead; his recovery would not help Sarai.

Warier now than earlier, Glade knelt on his Shield for an hour, scanning for humans, before descending to the house of the friendly woman. She was not there. Flying to his left to the next window, he again found no one. He continued circling the farmhouse, peering in each upper-level window, each time with the same result: nothing. Glade descended, stepped from the foot straps on his Shield onto soft grass, and placed his Shield on his forearm.

He walked barefoot around the house until a window revealed the friendly woman towelling down beside a sunken bath. It was strange for her to be alone, and strange she had not seen him. He entered the building by a northern doorway and coughed into his hand to announce his presence. She was not startled. As was his people's custom, he placed his palms together and bowed to his hostess before speaking.

"Greetings, Lady."

She placed one upright finger to her mouth, signalling him to silence, dropped her towel, and commenced circling him. Glade barely reached her shoulder.

"Are you alone, Lady, yes?"

She held a finger to her mouth again, and again, he ignored it.

"Are you alone Lady, yes? I do not wish to be captured, though I must talk to you. Is the other lady here?" For safety, he wanted only the friendly woman present. For modesty, he preferred privacy if sex was required in payment.

Porcia continued to circle her prey, running a finger across its little chest, down one of its little arms to the back of a long-fingered, slender hand, and onto its backside to give it a firm squeeze. Nice tone. Her finger continued up its other arm as she brushed past its cold Shield, returning to its chest. Following a zigzag path down to its groin, she untied the strip of cloth that encircled its genitals. The cloth was the only clothing a male Leluuwahn wore, no matter the weather. She was not interested in its angular, broad-nosed face. Its heavy brow and thin lips look comedic; however, its shiny, straight, teardrop-shaped hair is interesting. Porcia ran her fingers through its hair. "So soft."

"Are you alone Lady, yes? Could you please tell me?"

She gave it an understanding smile. Its caution is warranted. Their males are killed upon capture; weak, stupid, and too small to be of use in the fields. Interesting that Leluuwahn females are so highly prized for their sexual prowess. The sexual abilities of the Leluuwahn men were unknown because good Roman women favoured chastity, modesty, and dignity above base pleasures. Roman men were not so virtuous.

Lifting the little man like a child onto a chair to better examine him, she was surprised and disappointed by the modest size of his penis. Most small men possess at least the appearance of a large penis in comparison to their body size. This thing's penis is tiny, guaranteed to not satisfy a woman. Even impeccable technique could not overcome such a deficiency. Using the first finger of her right hand, Porcia lifted the Leluuwahn's circumcised appendage.

"Is this normal?"

"Lady?"

"You have five holes in the end of your penis. Is this normal for your people?"

"Only for males, Lady."

Only for males? Patience is needed with this simple creature. The stories of their squat intellect have a solid foundation. "I realise only males have a penis. Is it normal for your kind to have five holes in the end of it?"

"Of course, Lady. It would perform poorly if it did not."

"In what way does it perform better?"

"If you stop talking, Lady, I will show you." She focuses on what she wants, and so she shall receive it.

That was direct. Perhaps a modicum of intellect does reside within it.

"Are you alone Lady?"

"No."

Glade crouched and turned, expecting to see death approaching.

"I have you as my guest. Follow me."

Glade relaxed and Porcia led him to the upstairs bedroom where he often viewed her. He admired the shape of her buttocks and the way her hips swayed with each step. Good, but not as shapely as Sarai's, no. In the bedroom, she motioned him to lie down.

"No, Lady. Please." Glade gestured for her to do so.

Porcia preferred to stay in control, senators and members of the imperial familia aside. Not to do so often led to her poor treatment. He is only small; he can do me no harm. "You have come to my window many times, little man, and yet I do not know your name."

"It is Glade, Lady. Do you have water, yes?"

"I am Porcia. Do you enjoy watching me with men, Glade?" All men do. From her reclined position in the middle of the bed, Porcia pointed to a bedside table where a pitcher of water stood ready.

"Does the lady have more water, yes?"

She mouthed no and he took a long drink from the pitcher. "Do you enjoy watching me with men, Glade?"

In imitation, Glade held up a finger to his mouth. Reaching out to gently take hold of her ankles, he pulled her buttocks to the edge of the bed.

He is stronger than I suspected. Porcia lifted her legs, held her ankles wide, laid her head back, closed her eyes, and waited for the inevitable hurried activity. Men rarely consider foreplay. Feeling his tiny penis tickle her clitoris, Porcia lifted her head to see the little man's mouth a foot away from her vagina and...

"Oh my Venus!" It was not his penis tickling her, it was the tip of a foot-long tongue.

Glade pulled back at her movement. She is surprised? Once Jane again laid her head back he continued, slipping the first six inches of his tongue inside her.

Oh Venus, his head is still six inches away from me and yet his tongue is ... uh oh...yes...wriggling its way in. She had what felt like a foot of writhing warmth inside. How much more can he give? Porcia reached to her left to snatch two pillows and placed them behind her back and head. I want to watch this as much as feel it. She placed her hands between her thighs to hold them apart. Her mouth was open, and her eyes riveted on the best foreplay she had ever experienced. This little man will bring me to the boil as my rich old senators cannot.

She looked down across her stomach as Glade moved his head closer, and closer, pushing more of his thick tongue inside until his lips touched her crotch. She had one-and-a-half feet of thick, warm tongue writhing within her, caressing every passion-soaked extremity and then ... it started to vibrate.

"OHHHHH VEEEEEEEENUS!" Porcia climaxed; it was her first genuine orgasm in she did not know how long. With her hands clasping the back of Glade's head, she pressed his lips against her crotch while her thighs constrained his head. I want this forever.

Glade gradually decreased his vibrations, and slid his tongue in and out before finally removing it.

"I want you always, Glade was it not? I could not hope for more or better." Porcia allowed her head to flop back on the pillow, gave one last shudder, and closed her eyes for sleep. How long has it been since a male performed to please me? I cannot remember.

"But I am only starting Lady, yes. Do you not want more?" Surely, she was not satisfied with only that, no?

Porcia's eyes popped open. His five-holed penis!

"You want me no more, lady, no?"

"Do whatever you wish, little man." Porcia spread her legs wide and waited for what was to come.

Glade's five holes were designed to operate like a modern-day garden sprinkler, rotating one way then the other, his penis swelling and pulsing fluids through Porcia's "garden." Like his tongue, his penis vibrated too, and over the next hour, it inspired Porcia to multiple orgasms. Glade stayed hydrated with the water from the pitcher, only stopping when pitcher ran dry.

"Do you have more water lady, yes?"

"What?" Porcia was on her back, spread eagled, and breathless.

"Do you have more water Lady?"

"More water? Why?"

"We are not to continue lady, no?"

"Do you mean you can go on? Oh Venus, little man, you are unbelievable."

"I normally use three times that water, Lady."

"Three times?" That means three times the sex! "I am sorry, Glade, but I can take no more today."

"Yes, Lady. Then may we talk?"

"I can give you no advice on sex." I do not think I can rise from the bed.

"A female friend was captured by three human males today and taken to your city. I need help to rescue her. You are the only adult human I could risk contacting. Can you help me Lady, yes?"

Porcia woke from her afterglow. Aub has captured a Leluuwahn female for the brothel. "I see." There will be any amount of coin to be made if the captured female is even half as good as this male. I will not give her back to you, Glade, but your vulnerability towards the girl will bind you to me. "I know people who may be of assistance, but it will take some time for me to convince them to do so."

"How long, Lady? A week, yes?"

"Oh, no no no, much longer than that, I am afraid. The men who took your friend would have received a large sum for her capture, and the purchaser will want to recoup his coin by selling her services."

"Her services, Lady?"

He worries about her. Good. Porcia placed a comforting arm around him. "There are men who would pay much to spend time with your friend, Glade. Do you understand?"

With slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, Glade nodded.

"Do you love your friend, Glade?"

"Oh no." He looked to the side. "I simply want to return her to her family."

He loves her. Excellent. He is mine and I will share him with no one. Share him, and proud Roman men will learn of their inadequacies. I need my customers to depart feeling manly and confident, not inferior.

"What is her name, Glade?"

"Sarai, Lady."

"I shall do my best for you. Would you be able to meet me here at the same time next week?"

"Yes, Lady."

"Good. I will bring whatever news of Sarai I can. I sincerely hope I can help you."

"Thank you, Lady." Humans have a reputation for being untrustworthy, but I think I can trust this one, yes. It would be better to have the assistance of a Roman male. Their males are the more powerful gender in Rome, and with them, I would not be required to mate."

"You said three pitchers of water I believe. I shall have them ready."

VII

"Why did we hand her over? We will never be able to afford her services, Aub." Anzo, a giant of a man, thought with either his crotch or his stomach, whichever needed more attention.

Aldegund, the eldest of the little group by a year, saw himself as a reasonable man. "By bringing her in fresh we received twenty thousand denarii. If she had been used or marked, we would have been lucky to receive half that. If you had put a mark on her and cost me coin, I would have cut your throat."

"No one is cutting anyone's throat. Anzo, you were allowed to rub your hands over her pleasant little thighs and other bits, so be grateful for that. Now we have coin, we can buy a woman."

"Why did we not bring the male with us?" Anzo was now thinking with his stomach.

"Just be quiet and let us arrive at the slave market before it closes. We shall eat well tonight," Aub said, jangling the coin in his pouch.

The three Germanics, in their late twenties, had been friends since childhood. They took pride in their people's victory over the Romans at the Battle of Tuetoberg Forest. Led by Arminius, chieftain of the Cherusci, the tribes had inflicted a humiliating defeat on three Roman legions. The victory had been so complete that the Aquila, the golden eagle of each legion held aloft on poles by Roman standard bearers, had all been captured.

Aub had personal pride in that victory. He was the bastard son of Arminius.

The strength of Arminius blossomed from his Roman military training, and his ability to unite six tribes to halt the Roman advance. Their victory had gained Arminius fame and glory beyond Germania. Aub, too young to fight at the time, but old enough to be a messenger, had since longed to fight beside his father to share in such glory, and listened intently to his father's advice.

"Know your enemy's weakness, my son. It is as valuable as good ground to fight on."

Aub's chance for glory came five years after Tuetoberg at the Battle of the Weser River. For a while his father's forces had victory in sight, until traitors, men who had previously fought beside Arminius, joined battle in alliance with the Romans. From that moment defeat followed defeat, and Arminius and his army were forced to flee. His nemesis had been Germanicus, commander of the Romans, who recovered two of the three golden eagles in the process.

After Weser River, Arminius lost control of the tribes, and was eventually killed out of jealousy by men from his own village. The bitterness at the source of his father's death, and the desire to take vengeance against the murderers and vengeance on Rome, became the driving passion of Aub's life. It was a passion shared by Aldegund, Arminius being like a father to him. Anzo did not share in their passion, but he was a friend. Lacking intelligence, Anzo was useful for his muscle.

Within months the three had murdered the murderers, Aub using his razor whip to flay the flesh from their bodies in view of their bound wives, sons, and daughters. The pattern for each killing was the same. Rape the wives and daughters; whip the murderers and their sons to death; defile the women again and then sell them into slavery. All females were used in front of their males, and all males died weeping in front of their females. In doing so, the three had become pariahs amongst their own people.

Nevertheless, Aub was careful to maintain contact with tribe chieftains in the hope of one day returning to unite them as his father had done before him. Aub burned with desire to repeat his father's success, to defeat the Romans as his father had, and push them all the way back to Rome, as his father had not. He wanted to spear the remaining golden eagle, an eagle safely buried within Tuetoberg, through the heart of a Roman emperor.

By a twist of fate Caligula, the son of Germanicus, had become the emperor. By a prior act of cunning, Caligula counted Aub as a friend. When Caligula was a boy on tour with his father in Germania, he became lost. Aub recognised the boy, and ordered him thrown into a stream, fully clothed in a miniature legionnaire uniform which weighed him down. Retrieving the boy and feeding him on cooked Roman flesh, Aub returned him safely to Germanicus in the hope of ingratiating himself. The plan worked.

With the boy now a man and emperor, the three had direct access to the target of their brutal plan. The friendship brought with it no riches, and living within the Empire was costly. Slave trading became their business, and sharing became a way of life. They shared everything, including food, money, and women. They used women simultaneously. The three, before now, had only enough coin to buy one woman at a time, and insufficient patience to wait until the others were finished.

Older women were cheaper to purchase, and less prone to crying and scratching than younger ones. The three hated the crying, they saw it as weakness, and no matter how many hits the females took to the head, most would not stop crying. The men could not understand why it was so hard for women to simply be quiet, eat, sleep, and engage in sex for three or four days. Certainly, their female bits would be sore by the end, but captivity was surely better than working a field, was it not? The three always planned on releasing the women—should they cooperate. None ever did; all were either sold or butchered for food. Resources were too valuable to waste.

VII

The evil implanted in man by nature spreads so imperceptibly, when the habit of wrongdoing is unchecked, that he himself can set no limit to his shamelessness - Cicero.

# Chapter 8

# New Masters

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 4pm

## The Future - July 27, 2045 11.30pm

Jane surveyed Vergilius as he ran his eyes and hands over their bed. Why would a man, who probably lives in a tent, want that thing?

Not allowed to speak English, and Amanda unable to speak Italian had left the two women alone in their thoughts. Independently, they pictured themselves standing naked before men seeking to buy them. Jane, with her hands on her hips, looked down her nose at the men who ogled her. Amanda stood cross-legged with a finger under her raised chin, smiling and twisting her body to face the eyes she met.

A slim, high-cheek-boned young man with a sly look in his eye approached them. He was dressed in a sky blue linen tunic, in his late twenties, and spoke quietly to Tertius before taking coins from his pouch. Tertius counted out the coins, placing three in his right pocket for each one he placed in his left.

"You will go with him," Tertius ordered Jane. A pity. I was looking forward to taming that shrew.

From nouveau riche socialite to naked slave in less than a day, Jane walked tall as she was led towards the Forum by her new young master. She reached out to hold his hand, smiled, and increased the sway of her hips. I'll dominate you my little boy blue.

A short butter-ball of a man in silk with a bulbous head, bulbous nose, chubby arms and legs spoke to Tertius next. He passed far more coin to the slave trader than had been required for Jane. His face was flushed and he regularly wiped his hands on his tunic. Tertius divided the coins using the same method as before.

"You will go with him." Tertius placed a hand on Amanda's bare bottom to direct her.

The bulbous man gave Amanda a kindly, hopeful look, and held her left hand to lead her away in the same direction as Jane.

His hand is clammy. Amanda had kept her high heels as her personal item. Tertius had not taken her cross from her because she had become upset when he tried; emotional slaves generally fetched lower prices. She walked with her head high, twirling her hair. I'm a slave and yet I feel so free.

"I shall buy something to protect your modesty, my dear." Publius looked up at Amanda and noticed her blank expression. "Oh. You do not speak our language. No matter for the moment. I shall have you clothed soon." He looked to her chest, red faced, she must be cold, and then looked forward to navigate a path through the crowd.

He likes what he sees of me. She tugged at the hair she was twirling. Perhaps I will never wear clothes in public again.

Before the masters and slaves had gone far, a commotion broke out behind them and all four stopped to look. Paulus and Longinus dropped Nate's limp body to the paving stones where he lay on his side, Scaevola standing close beside him.

"He was an idiot," Jane said to herself as she wondered where Nate had found the leather loincloth. It looks good on him, though too large for my liking. "Fuck it. I didn't want him to die like that. I wanted to kill the loose end myself."

"Stop that gibberish and come along." Her new owner squeezed Jane's hand and spun her around.

"Oh Nate. What have they done to you?" Amanda was twisted, looking over her left shoulder with her hand over her mouth.

"He was a friend of yours from the bed, was he not?" Publius enclosed her hand between his. "Would you like to go back and see to him?" He released her and Amanda ran towards Nate, her breasts bouncing wildly. She looks delightful with her raven hair streaming behind her. And she can run in those shoes? Publius could see men appreciating his potential wife, certain their thoughts were salacious. I must clothe her.

"Nate. Nate! Are you OK?" Crying, Amanda knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. I feel so responsible.

"Oooooohhh, my head."

"Nate. Oh Nate. You're alive."

"Oh, my balls." Nate rolled onto his back, holding his battered, leather-clad crotch with both hands.

Vergilius, knowing that Laurentius enjoyed butchering his opponents, was surprised to see the searching man return in one piece. He eyed the naked woman kneeling at the barbarian's side, then gave him a vicious kick between the legs.

"Oooooooooohhhhhhh."

VIII

"Prefect Titus, could you please tell me what is to happen to that man over there?" Aelia pointed to the man who had been dropped on the ground not far from the prefect's tent, close to the amphitheatrum. She was standing in the tent's entry with a legionnaire holding the tent flap out of her way.

"Dear Aelia! What a pleasure and a surprise to see you. Come in, please. Would you care to sit and enjoy some wine?"

"Very generous of you, Prefect, considering the long list of duties you must have for this week's opening, but no. I wished to enquire as to the identity of that man and your intentions regarding him?" Again she pointed to Nate.

Titus moved to see to whom she referred. "Ah. I see the stranger has been returned and, surprisingly, in one piece. More unbelievable than surprising, considering his opponent. I need speak with the men detaining him, dear Aelia. Perhaps you could accompany me, and I shall tell you what I know on the way." Titus held out an arm to Aelia, and she placed a hand on it. "How is Aquilinus?"

"He is well and misses you. I have explained that his Uncle Titus has duties that currently do not allow time for visits; however, a five-year-old boy longs for his hero."

"He is dear to me. Not many more days and I shall see him again. As to this man," Nate was now at their feet, "apparently he arrived in Rome naked on a bed with two women. He appears to have gained a loincloth." Titus rubbed his chin then continued. "One of the women was naked with her arms bound at her sides, and she now kneels beside him. The other was strangely dressed. From where they and their bed hail, we know not."

"Fascinating." I love those shoes and that necklace.

"As none were Roman and all were unknown to us, I asked for them to be sold at the markets. Before the trader arrived at their bedside, the man of whom you are enquiring sought battle. We thought it a strange request, though not unheard of, and so accommodated him by arranging a battle with one of our champions. The man has returned from that battle, and as he has not been cut to pieces, I assume he has been victorious. Although, as I mentioned, I find it surprising that he managed to defeat Laurentius." Seeing Aelia nod thoughtfully, Titus wondered why. "You do not seem surprised that he defeated our champion."

"I witnessed not all, but a good part, of the fight," she said, raising her eyebrows when Vergilius kicked Nate in the groin.

"Good. They commence his questioning."

"Your men question him by kicking his testicles? An unusual method."

"I am sure this will sound strange to your refined ears, but I have been informed that the man believes his testicles can speak. We seek to inform them they will be punished if they do not speak the truth."

Aelia's eyes narrowed.

"While the questioning is robust, it is designed to retrieve the information he has." Titus approached his centurion. "He has returned alive?"

"Yes, Prefect."

"How?"

"I was not there, Prefect. Perhaps these men can explain. Paulus, Longinus, step forward." The legionnaires proceeded to describe the battle, interspersed with flourishes from Scaevola. Once their story was complete, Titus turned to Aelia.

"Now, dear Aelia, I intend to question him regarding his background. An unknown man who severs the head of one of our champions is quite the curiosity."

"May I be present during questioning?"

"Well of course, if you wish, but may I ask why?"

"He reminds me of a man from my life with Creticus, and I am curious to learn of his origins." I feel drawn to him.

"Certainly." Titus' eyes widened for a moment, before retuning his attention to his men. "Throw water on him to reduce the smell, then bring him to the command tent."

"And the girl? She may be of use also," Aelia suggested. I want to know from where she purchased those shoes.

"Perhaps you are correct." You are known for your perception, Aelia. "And have the woman taken to my tent also. Clothe both first."

Titus entered the tent and gestured for Aelia to sit beside him. "May I offer you wine while we wait? I suspect we may hear an unusual tale."

"That would be lovely," though the wines purchased by the military are renowned for their singular flavour. "How is your mother?"

"Hale, thank you. She misses Father, of course."

"I hear Vespasian performs admirably in his governorship of Africa. His name is on the rise. I suspect one day he may rise above us all."

"Thank you for your kind words. He is scheduled to return early in the new-year. Your wine," Titus said as a young male slave bowed and proffered two silver goblets on a wooden tray.

"Thank you." Aelia took a shallow sip on the wine. "Lovely." Thin as expected. She made small talk regarding the readiness of the amphitheatrum, until she noticed the two slaves of her interest being held at the tent flap. "It appears the unknown couple are ready for us."

Titus waved Vergilius in. Paulus followed dragging Nate, Longinus nudged Amanda forward. Both slaves now dressed in tunics of coarse material causing Amanda to scratch at hers. Both guardsmen had regained their lances. Scaevola snuck in behind them all. In chains, the foreigners were roughly encouraged to their knees on a rug below Titus and Aelia's raised seats.

"I am Titus, Prefect of the Praetorian Guard. You are?" Titus lounged in his chair, having directed his question to the male.

"Nate." So you're the famous Titus. You shouldn't be here; you shouldn't be prefect. Who is the woman on your left? She's older than you and so probably not your wife. Maybe a cougar? The woman wore a white tunic, fringed in leopard, with an eagle sewn over her heart. Our mobile phones. Nate saw them sitting on a small table between Titus and the woman and tried not to stare at his only link to the future. The phones were bookended on the table by silver goblets.

This tunic is so itchy. I would rather not wear it. The thought of removing it made Amanda catch her breath, and hold her cross.

"From where do you hail, Nate?"

"Australia."

"Ohstrayla? I have not heard of it."

"You have map?" Nate asked in his poor Italian.

"Bring me a map," Titus said to no one, expecting someone to fetch it. In less than a minute, a "no one" walked past Nate to kneel and present Titus with a map.

"There is your map. Now, where is Ohstrayla?"

Nate unrolled the map on the rug. It covered the land surrounding the Mediterranean and the island the Romans called Britannia. With Germania at his knees, Nate pointed to a spot on the floor that was far off to his left and said, "Australia."

Titus, Aelia, and the other Romans looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"You have, um, globe?" Nate motioned the shape of a globe with his hands. "Globe?"

"Why would he need a globe?" Aelia asked. "Only the educated know the world is not flat. Would you mind, Prefect Titus, if I were to ask questions of this man?"

"Of course not, dear Aelia. Please, proceed."

"Where have you been educated?"

"Australia."

"Yes...well...that does not help us, does it? Perhaps if I ask the woman." Aelia turned her gaze to Amanda. "Where are you from?" I want a pair of those shoes and that necklace you cling to.

Amanda, seeing the lady looking and talking to her, looked to Nate for help.

"No speak Italian," Nate said, pointing to Amanda.

"What is her name?" Titus asked.

"Amanda. Need globe, show you Australia."

"Do we have a globe?" whatever that is. No one answered. Titus had no globe.

"Ball?" Nate asked, motioning again with his hands.

"Do we have a ball?"

"Yes. I will get one." Scaevola scurried off.

"At least one of these Romans has got some balls," Nate commented to Amanda in English. "Thank Christ that kid isn't here to interpret, or I'd be crucified." Amanda stifled a smile.

"I want to be naked again, Nate." She scratched at her tunic, and before Nate had a chance to ask why Titus interjected.

"You mentioned Christ in your gibberish. Are you from the new trouble-making Jewish sect we hear grows in Judea?"

Shit. I've managed to stuff things up without the kid around. They could throw me to the lions. Nate shrugged. "Christ? Me speak English." If he sees Christians as trouble-making Jews, then Constantine didn't convert Rome.

"It could have been a word that sounded like Christ," Aelia interjected.

Amanda's ears pricked at the continual use of her Lords name. "Are they asking if you're a Christian, Nate?"

Oh shit. With a smile on his face, hoping not to arouse suspicion, he said to Amanda, "Please say nothing unless I talk to you specifically, or you could make matters worse."

Fortunately, Amanda had a questioning look on her face when she had spoken, and the Romans let the reference to Christ go. Interesting how they think nothing of the cross around Amanda's neck, and yet they know of Christ. The Christians only became known to the Romans after Christ's crucifixion, so He can't be dead yet. Perhaps He's still alive and becoming known for His teachings. I wonder if I can travel to Judea.

Scaevola marched in with a ball, bowed, handed it to Titus, and then stood beside Nate, close to the action. Nate accepted the ball from Titus and held it in his right hand as he pointed to the map with his left. "Rome," he said as he pointed to the top half of one side of the ball. He then pointed to the other side of the ball on the bottom half and said, "Australia," and repeated the process. "Rome, Australia, Rome, Australia." From their nods Nate believed they understood.

"I can speak some of his tongue," Scaevola interjected. "I have been interpreting things he has said to the legionnaires."

"Yeah, but you stuff it up every time. You almost got me killed, you little shit," Nate roared in English and was rewarded with a knee in the back from Paulus. "Oh, piss off."

"What did he say?" Titus asked.

Here we go. Nate dropped his head and rubbed his back. I'm dead.

"I think he said I stuffed up the translations."

Nate, relieved and ignoring his back pain, reached out to shake the boy's hand, nodding in the affirmative.

"By the look of that, I would say you have...stuffed up...a few times, young man." Aelia had not heard such language before.

Scaevola went red with embarrassment and disappointment. I tried my best.

Nate smiled and patted the boy's shoulder. After having pissed off almost everybody I've met since arriving, making at least one new friend should do me no harm. It may as well be the boy, considering he's the only Roman I have found so far who can speak English. He has a street wise look about him too, someone who may have grown up before his time. He could be useful.

Titus and Aelia looked at each other confounded; what to ask next? The location of Ohstrayla had generated what seemed like a thousand questions. "How came you to be here?" Titus asked.

Nate went with, "Not sure."

Scaevola interpreted, "He said 'not sure.'"

"Yes, I know. He was speaking Italian."

"He was, Prefect?" Scaevola asked.

"You do not know?" Aelia wondered if the boy was simple.

Titus shook his head and noticed one of his functionaries at the tent entry, indicating there were people seeking audience with him. He turned to Aelia. "Although I find it intriguing that these slaves hail from unchartered lands, I am afraid I do not have time to interrogate them further, my dear Aelia. I shall have them held in chains until I do." Standing and then bowing to her, Titus excused himself and began to leave, motioning to Vergilius to remove the slaves from the tent.

"Might I suggest an alternative, Prefect?" Titus paused, nodded in reply to Aelia and raised a hand to stop his men. "Might I suggest they accompany me home, with the boy as interpreter, so that I may continue the questioning?"

While Titus was unsure of the wisdom of her proposal, he had no time for the foreigners today with the opening of the amphitheatrum so near. "A splendid idea."

While Titus and Aelia were talking, Nate had a chance to quietly question Amanda on her desire for nudity. "When I was naked, the approving looks of so many people gave me a feeling of confidence I have never felt before. I want to always feel that confident." How can something so wrong feel so right? She bowed her head, cross in hand. Forgive me Lord, but I want it.

Nate looked at her sideways. The heart wants what the faith disallows.

"Excuse me, Prefect. Excuse me, Lady Aelia. I am Publius. This morning, I purchased that female." He pointed to Amanda. "My condolences for the recent loss of your familia at Pompeii, Lady Aelia, but with respect, I would like to take my slave home."

Aelia closed her eyes for a moment, and then acknowledged his kind words with a small bow of her head. "I shall pay double the price you paid for her."

With Titus having waved him in, Publius walked up to stand on the rug beside Amanda. He looked familiar to Aelia, and she wondered if he once had business dealings with her late husband. Probably, given he knows me.

Publius was a freedman, released by his master ten years previously for loyal services rendered, not only by himself but by four generations of familia before him. With intellect and hard work, he had attained moderate wealth and used it to surround himself with beautiful things. He had purchased a skilled slave to tend and improve his modest garden. He had purchased fine ornaments to decorate his modest home and had paid for an artisan to create a mosaic to transform his atrium from modest to impressive. His most cherished and, to date, unfulfilled desire was to have a familia of his own. Before he could start, he needed a wife, and he wanted a beautiful wife to create a beautiful familia to enhance his modest but improving home.

Less than handsome himself, finding a beautiful female citizen who wanted him had been difficult, and so for two years he had been purchasing females with the intent of finding a wife. None had met his needs. Either they did not want him, or he did not want them. He sold each woman at a profit.

"She is not for sale, my lady."

"Come now. Surely, you could replace her with another, or perhaps two, with Lady Aelia's generosity."

"It is not the coin, Prefect." Publius spoke to his feet and wiped his hands on his tunic. He was not accustomed to saying no to an aristocratic lady, especially in the presence of the prefect of the Praetorian Guard.

"Then what is it, man?"

With his blushing face still staring at his feet, Publius continued. "Prefect, I saw her with two others being carried towards the amphitheatrum. She has the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen, filtered from view as they were by her long, raven hair. I...I just could not take my eyes from her face." I must buy her a new tunic. She scratches at the one she wears.

What sort of man notices a woman's eyes and face when she's lying naked on a bed, wearing red high heels? "You might need to be careful, Amanda. This guy could be a weirdo."

Paulus kicked Nate in the rump.

"I followed them until they stopped not far from here, and continued to admire her until I could see her no more. When I heard she was to be sold, I had to buy her, Prefect. If she does not wish to stay with me, I will sell her, but," he finally lifted his head, "I would like a chance for her to know me, Prefect." Publius, the rightful owner of this slave, was pleading with his better to keep his dream alive.

Amanda had been grateful to the little man for allowing her to return to Nate, but without understanding Italian, she had no idea what was happening. Seeing her puzzled expression, Scaevola interpreted for her. "He love you. Love you eyes. Love you hair."

Amanda looked at Publius, regarding the unattractive little man. Without realising it, she had started to like him the moment he had allowed her to rush to Nate's side. It was a kind act he didn't need to do. And he loves my eyes. I don't think Nate has ever noticed my eyes; he's never commented on them. You might have deserved that kick, Nate. I love the thought of him being my master. Flip flopping between her long held submissiveness, her freshly acquired confidence, and a desire to be seen naked, Amanda scratched at her tunic. I like controlling male eyes.

"Very well. But will you sell me her shoes?"

Looking at Aelia in surprise, Publius said, "Her shoes, my lady? I had not noticed them before." He looked down at the shoes with indifference and back up to Aelia. "They are not mine to sell, my lady. They belong to her."

He didn't notice red high heels on a naked woman? He must to be a weirdo.

"Will you please ask your slave if she will sell them to me?"

"I cannot speak her language, my lady."

"Amanda! That woman wants to buy your shoes." Nate reverted to English, pointing at Aelia. "Do you want to sell them to her?"

"Why does she want to buy my shoes?"

"I don't know. She's female. Women like shoes." Nate shrugged and pointed to a fine-looking pair of shoes that were poking out from under the woman's long tunic.

"But I wore these when we met the Pope, and I don't want to sell them. Do you think I should? I'll gladly give her my tunic."

"Keep them both. I don't know why but you, and all women, look sexy in high heels."

"Thank you, Nate." Amanda took a deep breath and peered at him out of the corner of her eyes.

She likes the barbarian. I need to get her away from him. Publius wiped his hands on his tunic again.

"She no want sell." What about her cross?

"I think that is what she said," Scaevola said to Aelia.

"I do not believe there is any more you can do here, dear Aelia. We cannot force the man to sell his slave or her shoes." Titus was not one to use his position for his own or others' gain. He served as prefect for the benefit of Rome.

"Unfortunately, I agree." But I still want them.

"You may go." Titus waved Publius away, and the relieved little man took the hand of the woman he hoped would become his wife and led her to the tent's entry as quickly as his stumpy legs would go.

"May I remove this?" Amanda began lifting her tunic. With her arms in the air, only her head covered, and her cross before her eyes she paused. Should I do this? She handed the tunic to a guard at the tent flap. The eyes of that burly soldier approve of me. Amanda reached out to take her masters hand. Still clammy.

Oh my. She really did not like that tunic. "I shall buy you new garments in the forum."

Amanda squeezed her master's hand, looked into his eyes, and pulled her hair back behind her ears to show him the eyes that he loved.

Being naked gives her confidence? Who'd have thought?

"I believe your name is Nate?" Aelia asked, looking at the foreigner and pulling him from his reverie. Nate looked back from Amanda, and nodded. "You are to come with me." Aelia stood to leave.

"Those mine." Nate pointed to the phones.

"What are?"

"He means those black things on the table, Lady Aelia," Scaevola said.

"What are they?" she asked, looking between Nate and Scaevola.

Shit. What do I tell her? "Gift from mother."

"They are gifts from his mother," Scaevola said proudly, pleased to be of use.

"Yes, we know. He was speaking Italian." Titus was still listening.

"He was?"

"We have been here before." Aelia gave a heavy sigh. "As a slave you may keep one possession, therefore I believe he can keep those." The heartstrings of a mother had been tugged.

"But there are three things, not one." Scaevola's youth allowed him to speak to his superiors without the deference Publius had possessed.

That bloody kid. I almost had them.

"May I?" Nate pointed towards the phones and waited for a nod from either Titus or Aelia. It was Titus who gave permission. Nate picked up the phones with caution, careful not to activate the vein scanners. He connected the three together as he had seen on TV in modern Rome. When connected, they acted as a solar cell for charging other devices.

"One," Nate said.

"We shall go." Aelia thanked Titus warmly for his hospitality.

"Prefect? We are not to sell this man as you ordered?"

The implication behind the centurion's question was clear. Vergilius and his men were about to be cheated out of the coin Titus had promised from Nate's sale. Titus conveyed this to Aelia. They had already been paid by Tertius for the women.

"How much would you expect, Centurion?"

Vergilius was uncertain how to respond to the lady. He did not want to offend her by asking too much, and he did not want to short-change himself or his men. Vergilius, Paulus and Longinus put their heads together, and judging by the time they took, Scaevola judged they could not agree on a price.

"Perhaps the lady could set a fair price," Scaevola suggested, bravely or foolishly, depending on the outcome. From the looks the men gave him, he felt more foolish and in danger than brave.

"Well said, young man. I am sure whatever price The Lady Aelia sets will be acceptable to my men, will it not, men?"

Each nodded his acceptance and gave Scaevola a "wait until we get our hands on you" look.

Because Aelia had already seen Nate naked, both fighting and lying on the ground, she had no need to inspect him for defects. She tapped her finger on her thigh. He is educated, and therefore probably has a trade. A young male with a trade would probably fetch a higher price than one without. No matter. It is who he reminds me of that sets his price. "Four thousand denarii."

Longinus gave Scaevola a smile, a wink, and a pat on the back.

How quickly money can change attitudes, Nate thought. He and the gift(s) from his mother were at the tent flap about to leave for their new home. He hadn't heard of "the one possession" rule between Tina's thighs, but he was glad to have the phones.

"Dear Titus. It may help if the boy accompanies us for the purpose of translation. Would that be acceptable?"

"Of course. Boy, you shall stay with The Lady Aelia until she has no further need of you. Men, you shall accompany The Lady Aelia to her home, fully armed to assure her safety, and you will not expect payment for the slave until the morrow." The men put fists to hearts to straight armed salute.

"May I impose on your time a moment more, alone?"

Titus dismissed all others from the tent. When they had gone, Aelia asked her question.

"As your time is precious, I shall keep this brief. Is there truth to the rumours regarding the emperor's behaviour? Others, and I, fear Rome is about to suffer."

"I have heard the rumours and can confirm from my time in the palace that much of what is being said is unfortunately true. It is my hope that Agrippina can keep him in check. If her health fails and her guidance of him lost, I fear he may go the way of Caesar."

"I see. And the Vestals? There are also rumours concerning their strained relationship with the palace."

"Yes. Tensions exist between the Vestals and the palace; it is obvious in the limited time they now spend in the palace corridors. However, as they keep their concerns to themselves, I have no further knowledge of that."

"Unfortunate. And his rumoured urinations?"

"His hygiene is as poor as the company he now keeps."

By the look on his face, Aelia could see that the prefect of the Praetorian Guard was disgusted.

VIII

Oft hath even a whole city reaped the evil fruit of a bad man - Hesiod

# Chapter 9

# Jane Goes to the Palace

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 4pm

## The Future - July 27, 2045 11.30pm

Leading the woman by her hand, Fabius was pleased with his purchase. She is a near replica of my mistress. Taking her to a quiet corner on the western side of the forum, he removed a scarf from his bag and instructed her to cover her head and face. Taking her hand again, he led her through the forum and to the right towards the Suburra, the poor quarter of the city.

I hope this fucking hovel isn't my new home. The area had narrow alleys, was low lying and wet, smelt of garbage, and the people were poorly dressed. And the house, it's no more than a storeroom. I think I've been purchased for prostitution. Screw this.

"Where can I sit? The room is devoid of furniture."

"There is food, wine, and water in that corner and a pot for your comfort in the other. You will be stored here until nightfall and then taken to your new mistress."

"Stored? Like an animal?" If he's storing me he isn't my master. "You Romans are an arrogant breed." At least I'm not to live here. Jane turned away with her nose in the air.

Fabius had been born a slave and knew the need to control such thoughts. "If you value your life, you will hold your tongue before entering the imperial household." As he turned and walked to the door, he offered further instruction. "Do not open the door or peer through the windows. Wait quietly, and you will be collected at nightfall."

There is only one window, not windows, you cretin. She stood with her arms crossed. So, I'm going to the Imperial Palace. Perhaps I'm to become a kitchen hand, a cleaner, a maid doing laundry, or used for some other menial role. Fuck this. She sat her bare arse on the floor, stood, removed her scarf, laid it on the floor, and sat again. Thin shafts of light shining through cracks in the timber window covering were all that illuminated the room, its only contents those described by the man. She rubbed her forehead. I could kill for a coffee.

Deciding her headache would not improve without food, Jane investigated the meagre offerings. A mush that looks like porridge, half a loaf of...stale bread, a bucket of water, and perhaps wine...yes. Poor quality with no aroma. Eating only the bread and drinking all the thin-tasting wine, Jane listened to the clamour of a couple having sex in an adjacent room.

I should have killed him when I had the chance. Jane slapped her thigh for her moment of hesitation. That bastard got us here.

Hungry and wallowing in self-pity and regret, Jane found the mush was more palatable than it appeared, though it did not ease her headache, and her muscles were stiffening; her last coffee had been at breakfast. There must be hours to pass until nightfall. After the rhythm in the neighbouring room faded, it was not long before it started anew; the same woman, a different John, or Johns from the exertions. I don't want to play that game again.

Is there a lock on that door? What to wear on the street, though? I have only the scarf, and after flicking it a few times to remove the dirt from the floor, she confirmed her thoughts; it could cover her boobs or her bum but not both. While she enjoyed playing Bald Barbara in Sydney, to escape here I'll need to wear more.

Why would that little bastard want to cover only my head? Was it to hide the bruises I must have from the slave traders?

Despite the food and the wine, Jane still had the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, and she ladled warm water from the bucket to rid herself of it. The noises from the next room grew louder, climaxed, and then faded. Coins hit the concrete floor, and a door opened and closed. I have no money and no Amex, and no appetite for that.

With her eyes adjusted to the dim light, Jane was almost blinded when the door opened. Shading her eyes with her hands she squinted at the silhouette that walked in. The little shit returned earlier than expected. No. He's larger than I remember, and there are two, no three, and the third closed the door behind him.

The leading man spoke first. "I am putting in no money unless I go first. The one we had yesterday was almost dead by the time you two finished with her, and I received little for my coin."

Fuck. I'm in trouble.

"She was still alive when you finished, so we had to pay, and we always pay equal, so stop your whinging, Anzo," said the last one. Turning to Jane, he asked, "How much?"

The men were large, the whinger most so, and they were rough, not like the soft businessmen Jane once controlled at Kings Cross. All three were armed with short swords, and the last had a whip attached to his belt that glinted in the light from the window. I might be able to handle one and stay safe, but these three are too many. Jane stood tall with her chin in the air, doing her best to appear calm.

"I belong to the Imperial Court and am not for sale."

"Of course you are, and I am the Censor," said the man who had asked "how much." Their laughter sent a chill down Jane's spine. All three closed in on her. The one with the whip moved faster and came closer than the others. He slammed a thick fingered left hand across her mouth, pushed her against the rear wall, drew his sword and held it flat against her left cheek and brow, over her eye.

Jane looked into his cold eyes and inhaled his spicy breath.

"You can have this sword." He kicked her feet apart before lowering the sword to gently slap it against the inside of her calves, and up to her thighs. While licking her eyelid, the cold, razor sharp edge of his sword cut into her vagina.

Jane was rigid, terrified any movement would exacerbate the wound. Twisting and then removing it, the man held the sword out for the others to take.

"Or you can have this sword." He lifted his tunic to hold his firm penis against her blood-moistened crotch. "I think we will both enjoy this one, do you agree?" With a smile, he tapped his manhood against her.

With his grip near to crushing her jaw, Jane did her best to say "Yes." She could feel that his thick penis was covered in warts, and gave thanks to her doctor for topping up her antibots before she left Sydney.

As his pupils dilated to the dim light, Aub got a better look at Jane's eyes, and hesitated. "Who are you?" He paused his lovemaking and released her mouth to wait for an answer.

"I told you, I belong to the palace."

No. Her looks are strikingly similar to Agrippina, but her speech is wrong. Aub breathed a sigh of relief, reassured not to have made a fatal mistake.

"Why do we not buy a woman each now we have coin?"

"Our coin will go further if we share, Anzo." Aldegund was the frugal one of the three.

Once Aub had finished, to the complaints of Anzo, they all used her badly. Jane had their fluids in every orifice: her vagina, her anus, her mouth, her nose, and her ears, and with a sword to her throat, they forced her to clean their genitals with her tongue, and finished by wiping themselves with her hair. "Open up," the leader said as they laughed and pissed all over her head and into her mouth, engaging in mock sword fights as they crossed their golden streams.

When Anzo was finished, he pulled the ruby ring from Jane's finger to place it in a pocket of his tunic.

Aldegund noticed. "You cannot do that. It is common thievery, Anzo, and we are not thieves. Give it back or pay her."

"I will give her coin. Happy with that?"

Aldegund nodded his head in approval, shook his phallus three times over Jane to flick away the last of his urine, and dropped his tunic back into place. Aub, the leader, did likewise.

Wankers, Jane thought.

As the three slunk from the room, they threw coins on the floor behind them, Anzo throwing one more than the others.

"Did that whore look familiar?" Jane heard the big one say as he closed the door behind him.

Thank Christ the troll's dick was in inverse proportion to his height. Jane felt dirty all over, shaking and crying as she curled into a fetal position on the floor. I should have done more to stop them. I hate being weaker than men, I hate crying, and I hate those filthy scum. I'd like to fuck them with their swords. Crawling to a corner and holding herself to still her shaking, Jane wiped away tears with the back of her hands and noticed that the cracks of light around the door and window had disappeared; night had inhaled the day. Sunshine to darkness, a reflection of my life. That other son-of-a-bitch will return soon. In my current state, he may not deliver me to the palace. With great effort Jane rose to her feet to find her scarf, and used the water from the bucket to wash. Fading light, no mirror, and a meagre water supply fought against her.

She skulked to the window to peer through a crack and saw a bent old man shuffling along, a long thin pole in his hand lighting streetlamps. He stopped to exchange coin for an apple with a passing market gardener, and was quickly engulfed by the bustling city traffic of carts pulled by donkeys controlled by drivers of all colours and creeds. Gone, and his work will be extinguished in the morning. What a pathetic existence. They come from all corners of the globe to this metropolis to serve Rome's elite. I shall be near that elite. I must rise within it.

Sitting on her damp scarf, she held herself tight, dropped her head, and felt what she hoped was the last of the men's semen ooze from her. But for now I'm back where I started. "FUCK!" Can I muster the energy to rise again?

"What have you done?" Fabius entered the room to find Jane sitting bloodied on the floor. As he moved towards her, he inadvertently kicked a coin across the room. "COIN? You have prostituted yourself."

"No." She had no energy to argue or plead her innocence, instead allowing her head to fall forward into her hands. Toughen up. She straightened her back and looked him in the eye.

"Then why is that coin here? You have enticed men in. Damn you to Hades." He had told his mistress that her double had been found as requested, and now the woman was nothing more than a dirty, battered whore. My mistress will have my head over this. "Why did you do it? Why do you seek to make my mistress think me a liar?"

"I have not. I was raped by three men." Jane stood and raised her voice in reply, endowed as she was with more aggression than despair. If he fears his mistress I can use it against him.

"I cannot take you to the palace now," he said as he paced the floor. "You will come to my quarters where you shall clean yourself, and then we shall go to the palace. Come, we must hurry." He grabbed her arm and—

"DO NOT TOUCH ME." Jane pulled away, cringing and shivering as she crossed her arms and held herself tight. I have been used by men since I was born. Why does it affect me now?

"Do not speak to me in that tone. Know your place," he said and slapped her the face. "COME WITH ME!"

Again Jane pulled herself away, this time to press herself into a corner of the room. "I will only come if you do not touch me." You're too soft to hurt me you little shit. Toughen up. She moved from the corner and held herself defiantly before him, hands on her hips, appearing as a tiger while feeling like a mouse.

"Very well. I give you my word. We must move quickly."

Regaining a thread of control over the situation, Jane was able to steady her emotions and her shaking slowed.

Lit softly by oil lamps, the dim streets hid the two. Fabius was good to his word, not handling Jane again, and neither spoke. Upon reaching his quarters he gave her a wash bucket and a fresh cloth. Once the slave was clean, he prodded her still naked form out the door with a broom handle.

The palace guards recognised Fabius and allowed the two through without question. Jane followed his instruction to keep her covered head down, seeing little but the feet she was following. It suited her; despite being clean she felt dirty, and wanted no one to see her face. She had no care to enquire of his name, and when his feet stopped moving a pair of feminine feet moved in front of her. When the woman spoke, she seemed out of breath yet her voice was commanding.

"Is this the woman you informed me of?"

Fabius bowed and answered his mistress.

"She is in poor condition. What has happened to her? Why is she bruised and bloodied?" Blood ran down the inside of Jane's leg. Fabius told his mistress what he knew, informed her of Jane's insolence with the slave trader, and her denial of prostitution.

The slave listens and moves her head from Fabius to me as he speaks. The allegation of prostitution annoys her. Despite the coin, I believe you are wrong, Fabius, although the lack of hair between her legs might yet prove me wrong. Good women do not shave there. "Her name?"

Not waiting for the man to answer, an emotional, teary-eyed Jane spoke up. "Jane. My name is Jane, and I did not prostitute myself. I was raped." Though shaking, Jane remained on her feet, her eyes returning to the floor after speaking.

"I see doubt for her story written across your face, Fabius; however, I recognise a woman's distress when I see it." She wanted to spend more time with Jane to determine her character, check if her physical characteristics would be sufficient for the task, and determine the origins of her strange accent. Her height and build are as required, but I have yet to see her face. "May I remove your scarf, Jane?"

Jane nodded. She knew her face must be bruised and swollen, but when her scarf was removed it was obvious by the woman's smile that she was to the woman's liking.

"You have done well, Fabius, and I am grateful. Please, share wine with me." The woman moved to lift two cups of wine from a small marble table, holding one out to Fabius as she sipped the other. Yes. It soothes my breathing.

Fabius was surprised. I know I have done well in finding her double, but to be asked to share wine is most unusual. Mistress must be very pleased. Not accustomed to wine, he drank deep and fast.

His mistress gave Fabius a rueful smile, turned away, and walked to the other side of the room to recline on a couch and look at him over her cup. I do so hope this will not take long. It did not. Fabius clutched his stomach, bent over, and collapsed to the floor. Staring at his mistress with wide eyes seeking answers, Fabius looked from his mistress to the slave and back again with confusion and pain on his face.

"You did well, Fabius. Her likeness to me is uncanny, but no one can know of this. You were a loose end. I cannot have loose ends."

Despite shaking through all that had happened, Jane had listened and watched. There is a God. I have been placed with a kindred spirit. She may not understand the circumstances that required his death, but she was comfortable with the "why." If Fabius was a loose end, he needed to be dealt with. Jane's shaking eased, but her comfort quickly turned to a green mood of envy. You do look like me. We shall change places, but first I need to avoid becoming a loose end myself. I wonder if her breathing problem is temporary, or degenerative.

"If you ever were or are a courtesan" the woman said pointing to Jane's crotch, "that will cease now," and she nodded towards Fabius.

"Yes, mistress." I hope it's degenerative.

# Chapter 10

# Bart Catches Up with Nate

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 2.30pm

## The Future - July 24, 2045 8.30pm

According to the news reports on the TV and the net, Trev, who had been in New York, died at precisely 1:30 p.m., local time, on Sunday, July 23, 2045. With the other nuke exploding almost simultaneously over Rome, Nate should have been incinerated at 7:30 p.m., Sunday, local Rome time. With the time difference in Australia, it had all happened on a Monday morning while Bart was sound asleep in his bed at East Gosford. He had no knowledge of the tragedies until his radio alarm sounded with the 6am news.

Bart messaged both of his mates immediately in the hope they had moved on before the nukes detonated. When neither replied, and with their last GPS positions in the middle of scorched cities, Bart held little hope for Nate and Trev.

He could not bring himself to go to work that day, spending his time aimlessly wandering the Gosford foreshore. He had lost his best mates and felt lost himself. He spent a sleepless night watching endless news shows listening for word on survivors. World leaders were sheltering in underground bunkers, saying little, while global stock markets had crashed.

Just before 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning, Bart was woken by a message on his phone. "Shit. It's from Nate."

"Yeah. I'm sitting on a bed, fine and dandy, waiting to be sold into slavery."

What? "Slavery? My GPS says you're in Rome. How did you survive the nuke?"

As he waited for a reply, minutes passed like hours. Eventually, he received a call. "Nate! How in the hell did you survive?" He heard only a slow drone. "Nate...Nate...are you there?" With no answer, Bart hung up.

Minutes later, he answered another call from Nate, only to hear the same slow drone. Over half an hour passed between Nate's first and second text.

"I can text, but the phone isn't working."

"I answered your call, but all I heard was a slow drone. Maybe it's a tech issue caused by the nukes."

Another quarter hour passed and... "The time on my phone is going really fast. Is yours? Have you heard from Trev? Is Trev OK?"

"No, no, and I don't think so." I should have told him Trev was dead. Bart's head was in his hands.

Bart rang in sick that day to continue texting Nate despite receiving no replies. He was worried Nate might be trapped under rubble and went to the police station in Gosford to explain Nate's situation. The local police contacted their headquarters in Sydney, who contacted the Australian government, who contacted the Italian Embassy in Canberra, who contacted their people in Italy, and the message came back that the area was too radioactive for anyone to go in for three to five weeks. If he were alive, Nate would need to rescue himself.

Bart contacted Nate's family, sent him dozens of messages, and after nearly two weeks, on a Sunday, at around 5 a.m., he finally received a reply.

"Are you made of money? How many messages have you sent?"

# Chapter 11

# The Toilet and the Bath

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 5.30pm

## The Future - July 31, 2045 2.30am

"Hey, Scaevola, where can I take a piss around here?" Nate asked in English.

The walk up the Palatine Hill to Aelia's villa was short. Her home was large, though not palatial, its classical external lines unadorned. Given Aelia's familiarity with Titus, Nate was expecting something imposing. The interior was a different matter. A shallow mosaic pool lay under an open roofed entryway with a statue of Janus at its centre, the two faced Roman god who looked from one year into the next and gave his name to the month of January. There were rooms on either side of the atrium, a kitchen and dining room further on, followed by a colonnaded central garden around which additional rooms looked on. Though sparsely furnished, mosaics covered most common area floors, and walls not decorated with murals were brushed in earthy colours. At regular intervals marble plinths shouldered vases glazed in blues and reds.

Nate and Scaevola were shown to their room by an upright, sinuous, hawk-eyed woman in the upper middle-years of her life. She had a nose like a beak down which she considered her prey, and a protruding mouth with teeth so large that Nate was sure no man would trust them with his manhood. And no boobs and no bum. She eyed me like she wanted to eat me. Strange. Every aspect of her is unappealing apart from her walk; she moves with a confident, graceful elegance.

Neither Scaevola nor Nate could remember her name, and while her tunic bore the same eagle embroidered over Aelia's heart, the garment was not hemmed with leopard as was Aelia's. Their room was small, the first on the right off the atrium, and had no windows; this was common in Rome to protect homes from burglars. The furnishings were Spartan, with only one bed for the two, and no space for a closet or bedside table. From the faint smell of lanolin, they knew the puffy mattress was overstuffed with wool. Considering he was a slave and the treatment he had received so far, Nate felt fortunate to have been purchased by Aelia.

"Piece? Piece of what?"

Holding his hands to his groin, Nate made a psssssss sound, and said, "Piss."

"Ahhh. Either use pot or go latrine. Latrine back there." Scaevola indicated the direction. After he had been appointed as Nate's interpreter, the two had decided on the way to the villa to speak Italian in public, and English in private.

Scaevola not being a slave, and Nate not accustomed to his new position, they did not seek Aelia's permission before walking out of her north-facing front door to find Nate relief. Before leaving, Nate hid his phones under the side of the bed he had claimed for his own, the side nearest the doorway.

Scaevola was excited to have not only a new friend, but also one who came from a land he had not heard of. "So what is Ohstrayla like, Nate?" Now that they were in public, they spoke Italian.

"You say not right."

"You mean I am not saying Ohstrayla correctly."

"Yes."

"How do I pronounce it?"

"Oz."

"Huh?"

"Say as I say."

"Say as I say?"

"Repeat I say."

"Ohhhh. I will."

"Oz."

"Ossse."

"No. Ozzz."

"Ozzz."

"Stray."

"Stray."

"Lee."

"Lee."

"Ahhh."

"Huh?"

"No. Ahhh."

"Ahhh?"

"Ahhh. Yes. Ahhh. Repeat. Oz...Stray...Lee...Ahhh."

"Ohz...Stray...Lee...Haaa."

Close enough. Nate nodded to Scaevola and smiled. "Need piss. Where go?" He looked around, arms held out from his sides, palms up.

"Not far to go now. It is over there, ahead and to the right."

As they approached the public privy, Nate could see men and women coming and going. "Men women together?"

"No. They have separate sections."

Good. "Money? Coin?"

"No. It is free to everyone but the fullers. They have to pay to take the urine, ah piss, as you call it, away."

They have to pay to take the piss away? You're kidding. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why pay take piss?"

"Because the fullers need it for their cleaning businesses. They use it to clean cloth and clothes. They earn coin from their cleaning, so it is only fair they have to pay for the piss. They also... "

"Wait...busting." I can hear your explanation later.

Scaevola led the way into the male side of the privy. The room to the left had men standing before a little gutter that ran around its outer edge. The room on the right had men sitting around its sides.

Hmm. I think I could sit too. Defecating in public held no appeal to Nate, but as the need was there he entered, lifted his tunic and leather loincloth, and sat, looking at no one. With the men around him conversing, belching, and making common sounds, his 21st-century toileting etiquette was being challenged. Thick air was being masked by incense sticks and a man walking in and out of the rooms with a botafumerio, a round metal container swinging from the end of a short chain expelling scented smoke. Although the aromas were masked, the offending noises cut through the conversations like exclamation marks. Nate ignored his surroundings to concentrate on what he was there to do rather than where he was.

The man next to Nate phrrrrrrrtttttted, and Nate held his nose. A pity that guy with the smoke doesn't walk in more than he walks out.

"You are acting without manners," Scaevola said quietly, standing in front of Nate.

"Bugger off, will you? I'm busy." Nate had reverted to English.

Scaevola responded the same way. "Rude you no greet." He pointed a finger in Nate's face. Nate looked up to see an indignant Scaevola, and then looked around to see his fellow sitters and the shitters giving him the same offended look.

"Why?" Nate asked in Italian.

"You have to greet people when you meet them." Turning to the others present, Scaevola felt the need to explain. "Good men of Rome, please accept my apology for my friend's poor behaviour. He is a foreigner and does not know our customs. He is from Oz Stray Lee Haaa." His apology eased the tension a notch. However, the Romans saw themselves superior to everyone, and they were unsure about socialising with an inferior.

"Ohstrayla? And where is that, young man?" an elderly gent on Nate's right asked.

"Well...we are not sure yet. As he has explained it, Rome is on the top of the world..."

"As it should be," a young man said. He was opposite Nate and had large scars on his legs. Agreement came from all.

"...while Oz Stray Lee Haaa is on the other side of the world and underneath us."

Disbelieving looks were levelled at both Scaevola and Nate. Scaevola made a globe with his hands, doing as Nate had done for Titus while Nate wondered how these men could talk and defecate at the same time; he had always needed to concentrate on the task to get a result.

"Wait a moment." It was a skinny little fellow on Nate's left. "I heard Laurentius was today defeated in battle by a foreigner."

"Who?" asked an effeminate, pampered, and rotund man two seats to Nate's left.

"Laurentius. He was the champion of the second legion, and today a naked foreigner severed his head," the skinny fellow replied.

"Naked? He must have been Greek." The elderly man had once fought a Greek.

"The man was not Greek. It was Nate." Scaevola pointed proudly at Nate. "Nate killed Laurentius. You should have seen it. He crippled him with a cut to his leg. Then he chopped off an arm and then chopped off his head." The boy re-enacted every stroke of Nate's swordplay. "Everyone, including me, thought Nate would be the one getting chopped to pieces, but it was Nate who did the chopping." Scaevola was in awe of his new friend and his audience was wide eyed.

Nate's head dropped into his hands. "This kid is going to be the death of me," he said in English. "They'll all want me dead."

"Head up, Nate. You be proud. You beat champion."

Nate looked up, surprised to see admiring faces around the room. Eyes that had looked down on him as an ill-mannered barbarian now admired him as a victorious gladiator. All of the eyes. The elderly man, the man with scars, the skinny man, and the little fatso. They're impressed by me killing one of their own? Skill with a sword is obviously admired here.

"Would you like to come to dinner, young man?" the pampered little fatso asked Nate, and looked to Scaevola for help.

Unfamiliar with the customs of the upper classes, Scaevola was nevertheless keen to experience new things. "Yes. We would love to. Where do you live, and what time should we arrive?"

The man gave a long-winded explanation of the path to his villa, landmarks along the way, and finished by mentioning a tree outside his door. Nate could not follow it all and hoped Scaevola had.

With all that was going on around him, Nate hadn't started what he was there for, and so he ignored the conversation around him to concentrate. Eventually...he finished.

Where is the toilet paper? "Scaevola. Paper?" Nate said in Italian and made a wiping motion with his hand.

"Payper? What is payper?"

"Made from wood. Pulp, soften, make flat, dry, use to wipe." I think that's how it's made. Nate was unaware that paper would not be invented for another sixty or so years, and then in China.

"You use wood to wipe your arse? Does that not give you splinters?" someone asked who had stopped at the door to listen.

Looking to the doorway, Nate could see it was packed. Word had spread that the foreigner who had defeated Laurentius was present, and many wanted to meet him and hear his story. Although he was comfortable being naked whilst surrounded by females, having his pants down while watched by an admiring group of men left him uneasy.

"We tough down under," Nate said in Italian, hoping the ambiguity of his answer would baffle them. He saw the elderly man stand up and clean himself with a sponge on the end of a stick. The man then rinsed the sponge in a bucket of water, left it there, and walked out. Next, the skinny fellow did the same, using the same sponge on the same stick, rinsing it carefully before leaving it in the bucket.

Scaevola noticed what Nate was observing. "Yes. That is how we do it."

When in Rome...

XI

Walking back to the villa, Nate wanted to attack his bottom with a scrubbing brush and disinfectant. I need to think of something else. "Scaevola, how long Caligula emperor?"

"I am not sure. A year? Why do you ask?"

"Just wonder." Nate thought it unwise to enlighten Scaevola of his knowledge of Roman history. It might unnerve the kid to discover that I know the future, or at least a version of it. "Is he...?" Nate pointed to his head, making circles with his finger. "Crazy?"

"Oh. Yes, there are rumours he recently turned mad. The people are hoping his mother, Agrippina, will guide his decisions. Agrippina is well respected."

"Agrippina? Alive?"

"Yes. One of your slave friends looks a lot like her, I think. Why do you ask? Have you heard a rumour?"

"Ahhhhh...no." I know for a fact that Agrippina died before Caligula commenced his rule; another detail in this world out of sync with the history I know.

"Scaevola. Who go dinner with?"

"I do not know his name. I think I can guide us there, though."

"Think? Gave many detail. Street number, name?"

"Only main roads have names. What do you mean by numbers?"

"Numbers. House number in street." Nate pointed to the houses on his left as he passed saying, "two, four, six, eight," and then pointed back down the other side saying, "seven, five, three, one. House number in street."

"Oh. That sounds like a good idea, but we do not have them. How did you think of that?"

"Australia. Do it there."

XI

At the villa, the two found Aelia sitting in the central garden with Hawk Eyes nowhere to be seen. There was, however, a willowy girl with dark hair standing to Aelia's right, a little thin for Nate's taste, and she carried a small boy on her hip. The girl wore the same tunic as Hawk Eyes, and the boy wore the same as Aelia, trimmed with leopard and wearing a golden locket around his neck. Scaevola excitedly told Aelia of Nate's notoriety at the privy, and that Nate had received a dinner invitation from an unknown man.

"I see. My new slave and his interpreter have an invitation to dine with someone unknown to them, and unknown to me, after going to a public latrine where slaves are not permitted. Am I to be pleased with this?" She tapped a jewelled finger on the arm of her chair as she awaited their answer.

Nate looked at Scaevola, raised an eyebrow, and asked, "Not permit?"

Scaevola looked up at Nate, across to Aelia, and then down at the floor. "Sorry. I was excited and forgot."

Nate had been a boy only a few short years ago and therefore understood that boys often forget. Bugger! I didn't think to ask permission to take a piss, or to ask permission to go out to dinner. I had better remember in future. He scratched his bum and shuddered. I need to wash, and I need to think quickly if I'm to dine out.

"You come too?" he said to Aelia.

"So now I have your permission to dine with you, do I?" Her finger tapped harder.

Not hungry, huh? Maybe a compliment will work. "Your son?" Nate nodded toward the boy.

"Yes. His name is Aquilinus."

"Hello, Aquilinus." The boy half hid behind the girl's shoulder, but never took his eyes from Nate and Scaevola. "Shy. Look like you." I'd like a son one day, and a daughter. I'd like to find Sarah's double.

"Thank you." Her finger tapped a little slower.

"Nice toga," he said with a smile.

Aelia looked away, her finger-tapping ceased, and Nate saw a hint of a smile. He considered, but then thought better of, telling Aelia her arse looked good in her toga, primarily because he hadn't noticed her arse to date. If I haven't noticed it, it can't be good.

"May have bath?" He had sweated profusely during his fight with Laurentius, and lying in the dirt while holding his balls hadn't helped either. The quick splash of water from Paulus had helped little. Between the sweat, the dirt, the sponge and the stick, he needed more than deodorant to deodorize. Because the Romans were habitual about daily bathing, Aelia nodded, informed him she did not like bearded men, and pointed towards the front door. At least that was where Nate thought she had pointed, and he and Scaevola turned to leave.

"Wait. Your new clothes." To her left, hanging over a chair, were two tunics. Surrounding the chair, on the stone floor, were a variety of sandals. They tried on the sandals until each found a suitable pair. Their new tunics were made of a better-quality material than the ones they wore, and each had Aelia's eagle embroidered over the heart. Preparing to leave again, Aelia stopped them with another, "Wait. Towels." She pointed to the seat of the same chair.

She has thought of everything, Nate thought.

XI

"I think she gave us permission to go to the baths," Scaevola explained to Nate in Italian as the two walked out the front door for the second time. Scaevola pointed to the left.

"No shit, Einstein," Nate said in English, with good humour. "When we get to the baths, my little mate, please don't say anything about me killing Laurentius, and keep your head down. OK?"

Scaevola did not comprehend "no shit" or "Einstein" or "keeping his head down" or "OK." He wanted to know what all these things meant and got his answers on the way to the baths. With the baths in sight, Scaevola remembered something he really should not have forgotten.

"Nate. We cannot go to public baths. As a slave, you are not permitted."

"So you forgot to tell me I'm not allowed in the public toilet, and now, when we're almost there, you tell me I can't go to the baths either? If that's the case, why did Aelia tell us we could go?" He had trouble sticking to his agreement on which language to speak and where.

"I do not know."

"Bloody hell." My arse feels filthy. I suppose I could turn around and return to the villa to see if it contains a wash area. But when Nate saw other men walking down the hill in the same direction that he and Scaevola were headed, and those men had other men carrying their towels, he had an idea.

"We could get in big trouble doing this, Nate."

Unconstrained by respect for authority, Nate was happy to defy local customs to have Scaevola impersonate a slave by carrying their towels and tunics.

"Quiet. I try not talk. You not worry."

The plan failed. They were stopped at the door by a half-copper entry fee with no means to pay it. Turning to leave, they were greeted by the pampered little fatso from the latrine, their dinner host if Aelia had allowed it.

"Nate, my friend. Leaving already?"

He's taken a long time to come from the latrine to here. Then again, I noticed the Romans like to socialise while sitting and shitting.

"We have no copper," Scaevola said.

Surprised, and then surprisingly excited, Little Fatso paid the fee and took Nate in without Scaevola; Nate was the centre of his interest.

"What do I tell Aelia?"

"Nothing," he said to the boy, and Scaevola, disappointed, walked back up the Palatine Hill looking to the sky.

Why is he looking there? Nate thought.

"Good to see you again, my friend Nate. I had not expected to see you until dinner. No, no. Not that way. Through there to the change room. You have not been to one of our baths before, have you? Do you not have baths like this in Ohstrayla? We have so many baths here in Rome that I have not been to them all. It was Ohstrayla, was it not? Word is spreading quickly that Ohstrayla is a fascinating place, though no one I know has been there, apart from you, of course. Put your towel on the bench and your fresh tunic in the niche, up there on the wall. You do not need to bring a towel, you know, as they are included in the entry fee. Many do, despite them being provided. I notice you have no wooden sandals with you. You have none? I can buy a pair for you from the attendant, if you like. I will be happy to pay if you do not have coin. Oh. Of course, I forget. Please accept my apology. You did not have the entry fee, did you, so you would not have the coin for sandals. I will purchase a pair for you. Take off your clothes, apart from your loincloth, if you have one—you do have one, I hope—and wait here. If you have no loincloth, then put the towel around you, if you wish. Most wear a loincloth. Few Romans bathe in the Greek style. However, it is not unheard of. Please wait for me. I shall be back in a moment."

The little fellow is friendly enough, but talk about talk and I still don't know his name. By his looks, he could be the brother of the man who bought Amanda; this one seems harmless so hopefully the other one isn't the weirdo I think him to be. With the little fellow walking off to buy sandals, Nate took note of the man's apologetic walk, a crouched stance with head forward. Placing his towel around his waist, Nate set off for a quick recon.

"Oh, there you are. I thought I had lost you." Little Fatso had returned sooner than expected. Nate had only managed to stroll through an open doorway into a warm room next door. From his time with Tina, Nate knew that some of the Roman baths were huge, the size of football fields, and so he was keen to see the size of this establishment. Privately owned baths were thought to be much smaller than the palatial public baths.

"Your sandals." Little Fatso handed them to Nate and received a thank you. "Do not go into the next room without putting them on, will you? That is the hot room. The stones in there will burn your feet." Little Fatso rushed back to the changing room and returned with his towel and sandals in place.

"Right. We are now both ready. We have perhaps two hours before the baths close at sunset. It is not unusual to close at that time, but most do."

"Dinner. Not make dinner."

"Excuse me?"

"Dinner. Not make dinner."

"Do you mean you think you have to cook dinner at my home, or that you cannot dine with me tonight?"

"Not dine with you."

"Oh. That is disappointing." Little Fatso's shoulders slumped. "You do not wish to come, or there is a problem?"

"Problem." How can I tell him my mistress doesn't want me to go when that will alert him to my slavery? "Problem with ...ummmmm ...problem..."

"Your mistress is not pleased?"

"You know I slave?"

"Of course."

"How?"

"Word of all things spreads quickly in Rome. The word is that the foreigner who killed Laurentius was interrogated in the tent of Titus, and was afterwards taken as a slave by Lady Aelia Silanus of the vigneron Silanus familia. I know this because my brother Publius was in the tent."

So I was right. Little Fatso is the brother of Amanda's master. I'll wager she enjoys having a master. But Publius wasn't in the tent when Aelia bought me, so how did Publius know of that? Nate brushed the thought aside because, as Little Fatso had said, word spread quickly in Rome. So, if I could go to dinner tonight with Little Fatso, then I might be able to meet up with Amanda. No. I shouldn't. Dinner will have to wait, or Aelia might have me flogged.

Little Fatso saw Nate thinking. "It is not a problem, Nate. Although you are a slave, being a gladiator allows you to unofficially attend public baths."

"But not gladiator."

"Perhaps, but you did kill one, or at least you killed a legion champion, and that is sufficient to increase your social standing. Come, we need to continue, or we will not be clean for our respective dinners." Little Fatso led them into the hot room, and allowed himself to be oiled by a male slave; Nate oiled himself. After sweating for a while, the same slave who had oiled Little Fatso used a strigil to scrape the oil, sweat, and dirt from him. Nate did the same for himself, his only concession to assistance being his adherence to Aelia's request for him to be clean shaven. Surprisingly, Little Fatso was very quiet in the hot room, and the moments of peace gave Nate time to think on the girl with the red and white ribbons.

I wonder if the ribbons were just for decoration. She did look beautiful. Or do they signify something, a position or role perhaps. I hope her eyes are hazel like Sarah's, though I'll probably never see her again. I'll never see Sarah again. Fuck Jane...sorry mum.

The silence between the two men evaporated when they walked out of the hot room and onto a colonnaded walkway that led to the men's swimming pool. Little Fatso jumped in with a splash, came up for air, and did not take another breath for ages. It was relaxing for Nate, though, and he learnt quite a lot. Publius and Little Fatso, like four generations of their familia before them, had worked for a patrician familia, the Quinctilia. The Quinctilia predated Rome's founding by Remus and Romulus and had a tradition of freeing slaves whose familias had served them for five generations. Little Fatso and his brother Publius were that fifth generation. In accordance with Roman tradition, upon release they became clients of the Quinctilia's, continuing to serve them by organising the familia's grain importation and wine distribution businesses. Publius handled the grain while Little Fatso handled the wine. Little Fatso had, until recently, dealt with Aelia's familia business but had no dealings with her directly, although he did know her by sight. He went on to share the current hot gossip in Rome: Caligula's madness; the uprisings in Judea caused by Caligula's claims of divinity; the possibility that the legions would be sent to Judea to subdue the Jews; the trouble his brother was having in securing boats to bring grain to Rome caused by Caligula using boats to build a pontoon bridge, and how that led to a minor famine; and finally, the exciting prospect of going to the opening of the amphitheatrum on Sunday.

"Would you like to come with me, Nate? Publius will be there also."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course. It would be highly prestigious to have such a hot topic of conversation as yourself with us. Your rapidly expanding reputation, due not only to your gladiatorial expertise but also to your strange origins, is fascinating to everyone. Will you do us the honour of sitting with us?"

"Yes," Nate said with excitement in English and then "Yes," in Italian. But how am I going to put this to Aelia? "May bring friend Scaevola?" Nate held his hand at shoulder height to signify the boy. Maybe Scaevola can help with interpretations, and the ribbon girl could be there.

"Of course. A friend of yours is a friend of mine, my friend. To get good seats, we will need to queue tomorrow around sunset. I will meet you and your friend at the amphitheatrum at sunset."

Nate was excited and hungry. I had better get home to eat, and on the way conjure up a story for Aelia. As they arrived back at the change room, Nate realised what he didn't have. "SHIT!"

Little Fatso did not understand the word, but recognised Nate's mood. "Is there a problem? Can I help?"

"I don't have my Sponge Bobs. They're still in my room in Rome."

"Sorry, but I do not understand your language."

"Lost my..." he did not know the Italian word for undies. Undiesia? No, probably not, and what is this guy's name, anyway? As Nate put his head and arms through his new tunic, he asked "Name?"

"Name? You mean my name?" Nate nodded. "My sincere apologies. My name is Lucius."

XI

Scaevola met Nate at the front door of the villa. "We are in trouble, Nate. We were not supposed to go to the baths. Lady Aelia was pointing to a room inside the house, and you are late for dinner. It is almost sunset."

Some sweet-talking will be needed if I'm to see the opening of the famous Roman Colosseum. Nate hadn't thought of anything to say to Aelia on the way back to the villa, and as Scaevola led him to her, he still had no creative tale to tell. His stomach was grumbling, and he wondered if he would be eating with Aelia. Do slaves eat with their masters?

"How kind of you to join us, Nate." Aelia did not look at him. Instead she exchanged glances with a plain-looking woman seated to her right. Both were on stools on one side of a large table, and with a bump on her belly Nate thought the other woman to be in the early stages of pregnancy. Three couches lined the other sides of the table. There was no male present, but Hawk Eyes stood to Aelia's left, looking down her nose at him. There was a girl, a different one from before and without the boy on her hip, standing in a corner. This girl had a shy smile for Nate and curves that were much more to his liking. But where is Aelia's husband?

"I would ask you where you have been; however, Scaevola has already given explanation. May I ask the name of the man who paid your fee?"

"Lucius. He wine...ahh...dealer? He said deal you."

"Lucius?"

Nate nodded.

Aelia gazed at him intently. "Of the Quinctilia familia?"

He nodded again.

"You seem to have become well connected rather quickly, young man." Aelia looked him up and down before turning to her friend. "What do we do now?" she asked quietly. The small shake of her friend's head and the shrug of her shoulders said her friend would be of no help; her attention was consumed by Nate's biceps.

Ignoring the woman's lingering stare, Nate thought a dash of humility was needed. "Lady. What call you?"

"Scaevola?" Aelia looked for an interpretation. All eyes turned to Scaevola, only to return to Nate when he spoke to Scaevola in English.

"How do I address her? Do I say mistress? Do I say owner? Do I say Aelia?"

"Say Lady Aelia," he told Nate. Scaevola then turned to Aelia and said, "I believe he is asking how to address you, Lady Aelia. I told him to say Lady Aelia."

"I see. You may both address me as Mistress." She looked to the boy and then back to Nate. "You may attend dinner at the house of Lucius," she said, and waved them away.

Nate didn't move. "Thank Mistress, but no Mistress. Already said no. Not expecting me."

"I see. Then there is food in the kitchen for you." Again she waved them away.

Again, he didn't leave. "Thank Mistress. May ask permit...permitssion?"

Aelia drew an exasperated breath and threw him a steely gaze. What a different world this Ohstrayla must be. I did not punish him for leaving the villa without my permission and for arriving back late for dinner, then after giving him permission to accept a dinner invitation that he had already declined he asks for permission for something else he probably should not do. She stared at Nate, attempting to make him so uncomfortable he would leave. Nate did not.

"Lucius ask me go amphitheatrum open. Scaevola too. Can go?" Scaevola's mouth hung open.

Aelia turned to her friend and said, "Lucius," with a meaningful look.

"May I speak with you, Lady Aelia?" Hawk Eyes lowered her head towards Aelia while keeping an eye on Nate.

"Of course, my dear Pomponia." Hawke Eyes whispered something in Aelia's ear.

After listening intently, Aelia answered. "Yes, you may attend the opening. Now will you leave us? Please?"

Nate thanked her, bowed, and left the room with a quick glance at the girl in the corner. He was bewildered at how easily he had escaped trouble. Lucius, or perhaps the familia Lucius works for, or both, must hold some sway over Aelia. Scaevola followed him excitedly.

# Chapter 12

# Aelia's Little Secret

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 7.30pm

## The Future - August 4, 2045 6.30am

"I understand why you would allow him to dine with Lucius, and with his angles and muscles he does look delicious, but why did you buy him, Aelia? With your conservative reputation I suspect it is not for pleasure. And that insolent tongue he possesses requires re-training," Milonia declared in her husky voice.

Both men, Lucius and Nate, were reminders to Aelia of recent heartaches.

Her familia had been wealthy vignerons with large estates on the hills and shores surrounding Pompeii. They had produced wine for generations, wine that had been favoured by kings, emperors, and consuls. The eruption of Mt. Vesuvius less than a month ago, on the eighth day before the Kalends of July (Kalends being the first day of the month), had decimated their estates. Her entire birth familia, and her husband, Quintus Silanus, who had been visiting to select wine for their cellar, had been killed. People and places most dear to her had been lost.

Aelia's marriage to Quintus, her third husband, was sine manu, meaning she was still under the control of her father at the time of Quintus' death. The loss of her entire familia and Quintus left her belonging to no man. Her birth familia's fortune had passed to her, as did the commitment to their patrons, the Quinctilia. Since the familia of Lucius had been slaves to the Quinctilia for generations, and as Lucius had conducted business with her familia for many years on behalf of the Quinctilia, to not allow Nate to attend dinner and the opening of the amphitheatrum would have been an affront to Lucius. Legal and financial advice from the Quinctilia might be needed. All these things were known to the world, and Lucius was a reminder of it.

What was not widely known, and she hoped never would be, were the events surrounding her sons.

Daughters were tools of matrimonium, used to improve political connections and security of the familia. Aelia's first two arranged marriages had produced no children, causing both husbands to seek divorce on grounds of her infertility. She had not enjoyed intimacy with either man. Their encounters had been brief and functional.

Her third and most recent matrimonium was to Quintus; a distant familia member and a client of the Quinctilia's. The arrangement was again conceived by Aelia's father, though he made a concession by first seeking her approval. Initially, the marriage progressed well. Aelia's father had purchased a villa for them, her current residence in Rome, and she found Quintus to be good-humoured. Like her first husbands, he was much older than she. But unlike her first two husbands, Quintus was a proven sire with eight children and two grandchildren from three previous wives. Despite his age, their love making was energetic, frequent, and entertaining. She appreciated his foreplay and adventurous nature, mostly, but still, none of their efforts resulted in pregnancy.

After twelve months spent in Syria, where Quintus served as governor, and no sign of conception, not wishing to once more return to her familia in divorce, Aelia's maid from birth, the hawk-eyed Pomponia, fashioned a plan. Knowing Quintus to be away on business for an expected ten days, Pomponia sold two female house slaves at the markets to leave only herself, Aelia, and a trusted cook in the villa. She then purchased a male of eighteen years whose height, build, and colour matched that of Quintus. The first time he was scared and she was nervous. Thereafter, they were both keen for the pleasures the other could provide. Aelia made a conscious decision to release her inhibitions and use the boy purely for pleasure. She had Pomponia remove his body hair with a strigil and did the same for herself. Enjoying the touch of his oil covered hands on her body, Aelia felt more of a woman than ever before, allowing him to enter her in a way that she had not enjoyed with Quintus.

They entertained each other twice a day for seven days. He stretched her physical abilities further than she thought possible, far further than her husbands had done, and in return she released an adventurous passion she had until then contained within chains of respectability; she felt wicked for pleasuring the boy in ways she had not done for her husbands. On the eighth day, Pomponia sold the youth at the markets, though not before using him herself. With the proceeds from the sale of the first two slaves and the profit she made on the boy, Pomponia was able to buy two younger and prettier girl slaves that Quintus appreciated on his return.

Three weeks later, after missing her cycle, Aelia announced her pregnancy. No one suspected her adultery, and Aelia's first son came into the world on the Ides of April, the thirteenth. The boy was named Aquilinus, after the eagle symbol of her familia. Quintus was proud of the son who resembled him.

Aelia's second son was born years later after similar deception; Aelia choosing the sire against Pomponia's advice. The slave boy had the same build and height as Quintus; however, the muscular Germanic had fair skin, fair hair, and blue eyes. It was fortunate that Quintus had died at Pompeii and did not witness the child's birth. An explanation for his colouring would have proved difficult without admitting adultery, an admission too scandalous to contemplate. Pomponia abandoned the child to the Lost, publicly citing deformities as the reason.

"I have my reasons for purchasing him, Milonia," although I have yet to concoct a reason I may publicly give. She trusted her friend in most things, but the thought of enduring the punishment for adultery did not allow her to risk sharing such knowledge, even with Milonia. She had only known Milonia through her matrimonium with Quintus.

"I need more wine before my mind explodes from the inexplicable." Milonia held out her cup for one of Aelia's slaves to refill.

Nate. He reminds me so much of the sire of my fair-skinned son, a picture of the man my son could have been. He can fight, and wins trust quickly. For one of the Quinctilia to befriend him shows his good character. He is game to ask no permission to enter the baths, and make dinner and sporting invitations. He could be a son a mother could speak of with pride. He would not be the first slave adopted by a patrician familia.

# Chapter 13

# Nate Catches Up with Bart

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 7.30pm

## The Future - August 4, 2045 6.30am

"How did you get out of that, and are we really going to the opening of the amphitheatrum?" Scaevola was too excited to speak English as they entered the kitchen.

"No idea." Why in hell I wasn't slapped in chains is beyond me. It had to be something to do with who Lucius is or Aelia's relationship with the Quinctilia's. The why could wait; Nate was hungry.

Dinner waited for him on the table: soup, milk, cheese, fresh and dried fruit, and something that looked like congealed fat on a plate with bread. I'd prefer a T-bone steak, but this will have to do. Of greater interest to him were the two pretty girls who stood together at the far side of the table, but neither of them are as good as Sarah, or the ribbon girl. Seeing Nate and Scaevola, one of the girls giggled and both departed with Nate's eyes on the taller one with the long, straight hair and curvaceous bottom. Sarah's bottom was like that, and the ribbon girl's.

A short woman with flour on her face and an apron around her generous waist watched Nate as he ate, giving him a lecherous look as he licked his soup dish clean. She had exceptionally broad buttocks and full breasts, and made him feel so uncomfortable he was happy to leave her kitchen to retire for the night. He had gone from pleasuring Amanda at 7.30pm in modern Rome to a fight to the death at 2.00pm in ancient Rome; his batteries were low and his body clock was approaching midnight.

Scaevola kept his countless questions to himself, allowing Nate to fall asleep beside him. On the walk back to the villa from the baths, Scaevola had seen Glade in the sky, and his Leluuwahn friend had signalled a need to talk.

Despite his fatigue, Nate had only feigned sleep hoping Scaevola would be first slumber. When Scaevola departed for a destination unknown, Nate took the opportunity to retrieve the phones he had earlier concealed under the bed. Finding his, he turned off the sound, checked his messages and chose to reply to one of the dozens Bart had sent.

"Are you made of money? How many messages have you sent?"

"Great to hear from you, but why two weeks before answering?" came Bart's rapid reply.

"Two weeks? It's only been a few hours here."

"It's been almost two weeks here. What's going on?"

After exchanging a few messages and Nate telling the story of the little flying men and how he had seen one before, the two began to decipher the time issue. Nate had remembered setting his phone to local time in ancient Rome at 2:30 p.m. He estimated he had been there for about thirty minutes, so that meant he had arrived at about 2 p.m. Because it was now 8:15 p.m. on the same day, Nate had been there for about six hours and fifteen minutes, for a total of 375 minutes.

For Bart, the nuclear explosion in Rome had occurred at 4:30 a.m., Gosford local time, on Monday, July 24. It was now 1:20 p.m. on Sunday, August 6, which meant Nate had been in ancient Rome for thirteen days, eight hours, and fifty minutes. That was a total of 320 hours and fifty minutes, assuming Nate and Bart's math was correct; they agreed that was quite an assumption.

Considering Nate had guessed his time of arrival, their calculations meant that time was running close to fifty times faster in Australia that it was in ancient Rome.

"Little flying men, time travel, and time moving faster. That's bullshit," Bart sent.

"Bullshit or not, it is what it is. It's bullshit I'm here, but it's not bullshit I'm going to the opening of the Colosseum on Sunday. I'll send pictures if I can. I'll need to be careful not to let anyone see what I'm doing."

"The rest of the world isn't going to believe you're there," not that many would care with millions dead and millions more losing their jobs. They say it could take decades before the world recovers.

"I don't care what the rest of the world thinks. I'm here."

Unsure when Scaevola would return, Nate wanted to end the conversation. "Gotta go," he sent, and before he could shut down the phone, Bart had replied.

"Wow! The Colosseum? Send me video. When will you text again?"

"Same time tomorrow," he answered and, trying to slow down Bart's reply so he could turn the phone off, Nate added, "and check the web on how Romans tidied up after a No. 2. I did it."

Laying on his back, looking at a blank ceiling, Nate attempted to assemble his thoughts on recent events and how and why they had happened. He had met the Pope, been transported back two thousand years, chopped off a man's head, been sold into slavery, seen the most beautiful girl who looked like Sarah from behind, had to wipe his bum with a communal sponge, YUCK, been invited to the opening of the Colosseum, I hope my ribbon girl is there, and could still text Bart. Poor Trev. He could not sleep.

Is there a 'why' to all this? Is that little silver-haired man orchestrating something? Why else would he have been at Jane's window, and why else would he have been here when we landed? He must be controlling events.

Sarah. The ribbon girl can't replace her. Jane threw Sarah's arms away, arms that probably saved my life when Jane tried to kill me. If ever again I meet a girl like Sarah, the ribbon girl maybe, I'll put my heart on the line to be held or rejected. It's the only way to know if she feels the same way. Next time I'll do things differently.

What is that little man's interest in me? Perhaps he can transport me home? I saw him three years ago, and those three years of learning history, sword play and Italian set me up perfectly for today. Where to from here? I'm sick of having no direction, sick of being a piece of meat for rich women to enjoy. I want to do something constructive. He tapped his finger on his chin. And I'm not remaining a slave. Aelia is OK for a mistress, but not for the remainder of my life. Is there a reason I'm here? Maybe the little fellow wants me to be a senator. I would need political connections for that. It would give me a role, but what would I do with it? I could work to abolish slavery, which I need to escape. Nate was still awake when Scaevola returned.

Scaevola, swamped with empathy for his little Leluuwahn friend, unloaded on Nate about Sarai's plight and the attitude of her people towards rescue; they would not come to her aid. The Leluuwahn were pacifists, identifying themselves as servants of their god.

Now I have a friend who knows one of the flying men. Leluuwahn? A strange name, Leluuwahn, and they're servants of God? Which God, and why would a servant of God have interest in an atheist? They'll never convert me. Everything is falling into place for something. And Glade's friends name is Sarai. So close to Sarah I can feel his loss. Nate promised Scaevola to assist Glade if he could. Helping Glade feels right, and a flyer might be able to return me home. Do I really want to return home, go back to a debauched life with no meaning?

"I saw a girl today, Scaevola, near the amphitheatrum, with red and white ribbons around her waist and in her hair. Do the ribbons mean anything?"

"It means she is a Vestal Virgin, out of reach to any man no matter how powerful. If a man has sex with a Vestal, the man is whipped to death and the Vestal is placed in a cave and starved to death so as not to spill her blood. When they eventually leave the temple, ex-Vestals marry rich senators. You cannot touch her, Nate."

So I need to be rich, well connected, and escape my slavery to get the girl and become a senator. I have work ahead of me.

XIII

Gaius will have Barbarians fighting at the opening ceremony. Perhaps the fair one I saw earlier today will be there. I hope he wins. When I marry, I want my life to be exciting, not spent with a man who keeps me as a trophy. Julia went to sleep in the safety of her bed in the temple, a gentle girl dreaming of a wild man.

XIII

"Glade has met with the boy, Sos."

"Good, and the boy is connected with the man, yes. It appears Glade will have a part to play as I suspected."

# Chapter 14

# Publius, Amanda, and Lucius

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 6.30pm

## The Future - August 2, 2045 4.30am

Publius and Amanda sat in silence at the dinner table, exchanging polite, uncertain smiles, each thinking on how the other might change their life, and from small actions and reactions attempting to fathom the others personality.

She is beautiful of body and displayed loving concern for her injured friend. What I would give for her to show such concern for me. You can have everything you want, Amanda, everything I can afford. And those green eyes...they make me tingle when I look into them, just as I did when I held your hand on our walk home. Publi. She has a pet name for me already. I must learn her language. Perhaps I could buy the boy from the tent? I must buy her more pottery. She showed great interest in it at the forum.

His house is clean and tidy, and the mosaic in the entry is lovely. It feels homier than St. Ives with its rich earthy colours and bric-a-brac ... and now more pots. I was wicked! Biting her bottom lip, Amanda held back a smile.

When Amanda realised Publius was leading her to a clothes shop in the forum, she had stalled him by picking her way through colourfully glazed pots in a nearby store. He bought her one pot, then another, and another. She thanked him with a kiss on the cheek then rushed past the clothing store only for Publius to lead her back. You're a nice little man, Publi. They had managed to exchange names on the way to his home, and she unknowingly shortened his. I have my own room, my own maid, my own indoor garden with a hole in the roof, I think. While she thought these things, she did not know if everything he offered her was hers. Publi had pointed to them and pointed to her. However, as a slave she could not imagine owning anything.

This food is delightful and he served it himself. The bread is a little salty, but soft. The fruit is fresh, the meat tender, and the salty cheese complements the wine. The fact he nervously served such fine food shows he isn't like my husband at all. Publi is happy to be with me. I don't feel married anymore. Publi cares; he cares that I like the food, cares that I like him and his home. He's still fidgeting with the lovely toga he now wears. The boy in the tent said Publi loved my hair and my eyes. I feel comfortable and safe with you Publi. If only your hands weren't so clammy. Will he use me tonight? She gave him a discreet look up and down. Will he walk me naked through the city again? I'm so confused. After today, I want to be both submissive and confident and I want to please the Lord. Nate doesn't know how he will get us home. I must learn Italian.

Lucius burst into the awkwardly quiet dinner.

"Publius, I have met the foreigner who defeated Laurentius today, and not only that, he is coming to the opening of the amphitheatrum with us. He is a friend of your new slave, is he not?" Lucius pointed to and smiled at Amanda. "His name is Nate, and I met him in a privy not far from the Palatine Hill and later at a bathhouse. He belongs to The Lady Aelia Silanus. He was to come to dinner with me, but I think The Lady Aelia put a stop to that before she knew I was to be the host, as he did not know my name when I met him in the privy. When I met him for the second time—"

"Stop, Lucius. You talk so quickly I cannot get a word in."

"Yes, of course. I know it is a fault of mine, which I am attempting to control, but when I talk about something that excites me, I find it a challenge to stop. As I was saying, when I met him for the second time—"

"Stop, Lucius." Lucius stopped with his mouth open. "You can close your mouth." Lucius did. "I sent word to you earlier of my purchase, and now let me introduce you to her. She is the loveliest woman I have ever met. Lucius...Amanda...Amanda...Lucius," he said, pointing to each in turn. "She does not understand our language. I believe she is the one for me. She has already given me a pet name. She calls me Publi."

"Really? So soon? But how do you know, as you do not speak her language, and she does not speak ours? Perhaps it is a misunderstanding of yours, which..."

Publius held up his hand and Lucius stopped, again.

Amanda put a hand to her chest and said, "Amanda. Nice to meet you, Lucius," in English.

"I think she understood you, Publius." Turning to Amanda, Lucius spoke slowly and deliberately, "I ... met ... your ... friend ... Nate."

"It does not matter how slowly you say it, Lucius, she will not understand what you say."

"Nate. Are you saying you met Nate?"

"I think she understood me, brother. She repeats his name. I am sure that if..."

Publius held up his hand. "Nate," Publius said to Amanda, and then pointed to Lucius, trying to indicate that Lucius knew something of him, and then continued talking to Lucius. "If you have met him, have you also met the boy who was in the tent? He could at least haltingly speak their language. I wonder how his knowledge is possible, as they hail from a land which, until today, no one has heard of."

"I do not know of a boy from the tent, though I did meet a boy who was with Nate who could speak some of his language. I think the boy is a freedman, so you may not be able to buy him. Nate, however, is a slave, so perhaps you could buy him from the Lady Aelia." Lucius was making a conscious effort not to ramble.

"No. He is far too good-looking to have around the house, and from my observations while they were being transported towards the amphitheatrum, he is very familiar with her. I could not compete with him. The boy, however," Publius held his chin, "I could employ him as an interpreter and have him educate me in her language. Will the boy also be accompanying us to the opening?"

"Yes. Nate specifically requested his presence."

"Excellent. I shall seek his allegiance then. Should he..."

"Publi?" Amanda said, hoping to gain his attention.

She had it immediately. His heart melted whenever she called him Publi. "Yes, my dear?" He leant forward and held her hand.

"Nate?" She moved her other hand between Publi and Lucius. Why are they talking about Nate? I must learn Italian.

Lucius was the first to catch on. "We ... will ... meet ... Nate ... at ... amphitheatrum."

Trying to relax his face, Publius said to his brother, "Will you be quiet about him? I told you I do not want him here. Please do not mention his name again." Publius turned back to Amanda and shrugged, hoping she understood that he knew little of her good-looking friend.

Amanda nodded and looked down.

I do not want her sad; I want her happy. She must be tired after her long journey. Wiping his hands on his toga, Publius stood and led her away.

He's leading me towards the bedroom, taking control. She flicked back her hair. He's nice but I'm not sure I want him, at least not yet.

Publi led her into the bedroom, turned and left.

My master doesn't want me? It might be this shapeless tunic he purchased. It's comfortable, and soft, but not alluring. What if he sells me? Who might want me? Many men had eyes for me in the city. I could be awarded as a prize to victorious, sweaty gladiators. They might ravage me before and after fights, and I could use them; I'm sure I could use men now. I might be the last woman many of them see. Or pirates! I might be sold to pirates and sail the Mediterranean with dozens of immoral men. God forgive me.

# Chapter 15

# Agrippina and Jane

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 8pm

## The Future - August 5, 2045 7.30am

Agrippina's assessment of the woman's character could wait for another day. Her foreign speech was strange, and the land of her origin was unknown even to legends. Not that her character, speech, and origin was of importance. It was the woman's startling likeness to herself that mattered most, for two reasons. First, with Gaius behaving erratically since his illness, there could be an attempt on his life and hers. Secretly training and using this woman as her double should give Agrippina the time she would need to escape with her life. Second, her health was failing, and with many in high places seeing her as the only one capable of controlling her son, Agrippina's death might trigger an attack on her son's life. Should she die, this woman, her double, could execute a ruse that she still lived allowing Gaius to continue as Emperor.

Few would know of the duplicate's existence. Her daughters, Agrippina the Younger, Julia Drusilla, and Julia Livilla, would need to know. Gaius would also be in the circle, however if possible she would wait for him to be stable before informing him.

"From that which you have seen and heard, have you distilled the motive for your purchase, Jane?" Oh to be free of my laboured breathing.

Jane was mulling over all that had happened and was happening. She murdered Fabius and is now relaxing on a couch, sipping wine, and watching me intently. His death was warranted; tidying up a loose end is wise. She has refilled her wine twice since the murder, offering none to me, not that I would accept. A coffee, however, I would risk dying for. Jane's headache was worse; she felt listless, and her entire body was stiff.

Not as stiff as he soon will be. Jane looked down to Fabius. Determined not to be submissive, she stood straight, tall, and naked, her chin defiant.

"Why have you purchased me, and who are you?"

"You are not a slave in your land, are you?"

"And you are no queen there."

Agrippina raised her eyebrows, put down her cup, and made a triangle from her hands to hold up her chin. When she spoke, she spoke softly.

"I am prepared to grant you some familiarity, given the role I wish you to play. You will need to know me well, very well, for your role to succeed. If you fail, you will die. You will need to change the way you walk, the way you think, hold yourself, and talk." Agrippina reached behind the couch for a thin, whip like cane, and walked towards Fabius lightly slapping her leg while sipping her wine. She steadied herself with deep breaths before continuing. "You will also need to know that you are not me, and regardless of your success in the role, you will need to show me respect if you are to avoid this one's fate." Agrippina put her sandalled foot on the dead body, pushing him from his side onto his back. "You were a pretty boy, Fabius. I shall miss you." She looked him up and down, moved the hem of his tunic with her cane, and used it to flick his phallus. Without taking her eyes from her play, she asked, "Will you be answering my question, Jane?"

Jane was reminded of her hesitation in killing Nate. I should have acted as she did. "I believe you want to use me as your double. Someone who can take your place when you are unavailable or under threat."

"Very good. A clear, frank, and insightful answer." Agrippina eyes were still on Fabius. "You will also double for me on public occasions if my health does not permit. You shall sleep in my bed tonight, and tomorrow you shall commence your training. Be attentive. Your looks are well suited to the role; however, you will need to learn quickly. You will find me intolerant of the inadequacies of others." She lashed Fabius' crotch with the cane.

And he was successful. Fuck! I can learn from this woman. "May I ask a question?"

Agrippina moved to the other end of Fabius and used her foot to turn his head. "So pretty." With a backhand motion she lashed his face. "But no longer. You may."

"Who are you?" And what are your health problems?

"I am Agrippina, mother of your emperor, Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, lovingly known to his people as Caligula."

I'm in reach of power. "May I ask a second?"

"It will be your last for today." Agrippina drank the last of her wine, and returned her attention to his crotch.

I'll need to leave my question of the woman's health for another day. "Will you also be sleeping in your bed?" Jane immediately felt the heat of Agrippina's narrow gaze.

"No."

Jane's thighs smarted from the cane. She neither flinched nor rubbed them. Bitch.

"Follow." Agrippina led the way to a white marble bedroom with deep purple curtains embroidered with gold thread. The bed, at the far end of the room, was twice the size of the four-poster Jane had tried to kill Nate on.

Fuck.

A warm bath had been drawn, and Jane followed Agrippina's instructions to assist her mistress undress, the woman short of breath from their brief walk. After scrubbing the royal back in the warm, bubble-filled bath, Jane held out a towel to protect Agrippina's modesty. Jane was ordered to use the same water for herself.

Exhausted, Jane failed in her attempt to stay awake that first night. She did not hear the screams from a far corner of the palace, only waking when one of three regal-looking young women shook her vigorously in the pre-dawn of the next day.

# Chapter 16

# Sarai's Ride

##

## Ancient Rome - July 23, 40 CE 10.15pm

## The Future - August 10, 2045 12am

It had been twenty-three days since the emperor's sisters had allowed him to inhale the smoke from the burning bush. Physically, his recovery had been rapid. Mentally, his behaviour had been as predicted. Coin and slaves could be used at the emperor's whim, and Caligula had many whims that required fulfilment.

Despite pressure on the state treasury caused by generous donations to his military backers, lavish spectacles for the public entertainment, and an ambitious building program, since his recovery Caligula had commissioned the construction of a marble stable, and the tailoring of jewel-encrusted collars for his beloved horse, Incitatus.

The financial pressures led to the commissioning of the imperial brothel. Prices were high to match the quality of the courtesans. Caligula had imported beautiful slaves of all colours from all corners of the Empire to be groomed for service within the palace by his highly skilled madam, Porcia. Her ladies performed acts that rich senators dared not ask of their wives.

Porcia's new prize, the trophy all senators and rich merchants sought, was a Leluuwahn female. The sale of her favours should underpin the financial success of the brothel, and provide Caligula with desperately needed coin.

However, like so many men, Caligula thought with his genitals, and on hearing of the Leluuwahn's capture insisted he be the only one to have relations with it. Unless Porcia could find a way past that obstacle, her hopes for huge profits, of which she was to gain a percentage, were fading.

As he cantered through the palace on Incitatus, wielding a sword to slice through statues and slaves, Caligula thought of the new toy that awaited him in his bedchamber. When he entered the room and leapt from his horse, throwing his reins to no one, the Leluuwahn was frozen to the spot, wearing only sandals and jewellery as she stood at the far side of his enormous bed. His approach was slow, dragging his feet while his tall, spindly frame dragged a blood-covered sword behind him. The sword clanked as it scraped from one tile to the next. Stopping in front of her, the emperor raised the blade into the space between them, and with a finger made circles of blood on the sword; he licked his finger at the end of each circle he completed.

"Do you enjoy the taste of human blood, Leluuwahn?"

Sarai had been delivered free of marks on her skin; the marks on her mind from the death of Febreeze would take longer to heal, far longer than Caligula could wait. He towered over and terrified her. Porcia had instructed Sarai to do as the emperor asked, though Sarai did not want to see human blood, much less taste it. She raised her eyes to him and hoped he would not hurt her as he placed a damp red finger on her quivering lips, gently smearing them with blood, then kissed them.

"You taste...human, Leluuwahn. "You quiver." He smiled. "Are you scared? There is no reason to be." He ran a finger down his blade again, collecting enough blood to cover each of her nipples. "I am your emperor, the emperor of the civilised world. I dispense justice," he licked her left nipple, "only justice," he licked her right. "I spread..." his sword slipped between her legs to widen her stance, "...civilisation to barbarians throughout the world, even to your world, which sees fit to look down upon me as I pass by."

Whispering in her ear while the blade ran up the inside of her thighs the Emperor continued... "Did you know it is a crime punishable by death to look down upon me? Yes...it is." He looked into her eyes as he unhurriedly sliced the flesh between her buttocks with the edge of his blade.

"Argh." Sarai lifted herself to the tips of her toes to escape the sting of the blade. "Please do not...ow...please, please do not cut me further, no...augh!" Sarai's full height was exceeded by the reach of the sword, and her trembling knees were close to buckling.

"You look to your Shield." It was secured behind thick metal bars on a wall. "It cannot help you." Withdrawing the blade to inspect it, he was pleased with the result. "Yesss...fresh blood. Fresh is best. I have not tasted the blood of your kind before." He made a show of licking the blade. "You are fortunate. I do not like your blood." He lifted his tunic and pissed on the floor between her feet.

Will he rape me or kill me, Sarai's mind swung wildly, or both?

"Come. We shall breathe from the bush then collect blood that is more to my liking." Caligula placed her hand upon his, lifting it high as if she were his lady as they walked towards Incitatus. His blade now sheathed, the Emperor effortlessly lifted little Sarai onto the back of his steed, mounting his loyal friend himself from the side of the bed. "Place your hands around my waist."

Sarai placed her hands on his hips, he pulled them around to his stomach and patted them.

"You shake. Are you cold?" She shook her head and he rubbed her forearms. "There, there. You shall be warm by a fire soon."

I need a warm heart, not hearth, yes.

They rode from the room, her body tremors beginning to calm, his mind needing to be cleared by the smoke, his blade redrawn and ready to clear the halls of slaves.

After visiting the burning bush they rode slowly through the night, Incitatus not able to gallop on the marble, Caligula unable to sleep, and Sarai desperately clinging to her tormentor. At daybreak, with the morning sky glowing red, he returned Sarai to her new home unharmed.

"Was she to your satisfaction, great Caesar?" Porcia noticed the combination of dry and fresh blood on his sword and worried that her asset had been damaged.

"My satisfaction? Not only to my satisfaction but also to the satisfaction of Incitatus, I think. She rides him well. We both enjoyed her quiet company." He sat straight and proud on the stallion's back and held out an arm to assist Sarai to the floor.

"When shall you require her next, great Caesar?"

"That is twice you have asked questions of your emperor. Do you intend to continue your questioning, Madam?"

"No, great Caesar." Porcia lowered her eyes and held Sarai close, an arm around the girl's shoulder.

Caligula lifted Porcia's chin with his sword. "Do you think these could be dried and transformed into a rattle?" From a pocket in his tunic, Caligula pulled out a man's genitalia, held them by the shaft of the penis and shook them slowly. "Do you see? They do not rattle. Can you make them rattle?"

"I am not sure, great Caesar." Porcia placed a hand over her mouth and struggled not to vomit.

"I suggest you do more than try." He lifted his tunic to spray her with a golden stream before riding away.

"Have you been harmed, Sarai?" Porcia resisted the urge to remove her urine-soaked tunic.

"He harms all he meets." Sarai recounted the night's events: slaves she had seen trampled by Incitatus and hacked by Caligula's blade as he rode past, liberties he had taken with slaves he later executed for immoral behaviour, one while he was still inside him. He is a sunken eyed demon who marks his territory like a dog.

Before allowing Sarai to sleep, Porcia checked her thoroughly for damage and was pleased to find only a cut between her buttocks. She doubted the girl would sleep that night and asked Sarai's roommates, Boobia, Jucia, and Hornia, to attend to her needs.

# Chapter 17

# Pomponia

##

## Ancient Rome - July 24, 40 CE

## The Future - September 11, 2045

On the first morning of Nate's new life, Pomponia gathered the household slaves in the villa's courtyard for Aelia to explain the role that she and Pomponia had brewed that morning for Aelia's latest acquisition, Nate. Aelia sat with Aquilinus on her lap while the remainder of her household stood. Pomponia was on Aelia's right, her hawk eyes looking down her nose at an offensive odour only she had noticed. The two girls Nate had seen previously, and the round-bellied, big bottomed, full breasted cook stood to Aelia's left with fresh flour on her face and tunic. Nate and Scaevola stood before them all. Prior to explaining Nate's duties, Aelia recounted the history of her familia's wine-making heritage, the disaster that had struck at Pompeii, her status in Roman society, and the morals she expected from members of her household.

Quite a story, Nate thought. She has the connections I need to become a senator.

"Whilst wearing my familia emblem, and at any other time while you are in my possession, you will act in a manner that befits a patrician familia's slave."

"So I—" Nate began.

"Be quiet while your mistress speaks."

Skinny old bitch. She looks like she needs a man to settle her down, but I won't be volunteering.

"Thank you, Pomponia." Aelia nodded and continued her instructions. "You two shall be deferential, polite, and helpful at all times. If Pomponia gives you instructions, you will follow them as if they came from my mouth. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," the two answered.

"As to your duties..."

"Mummy, I need to go wee-wee. Now."

Aelia brushed her son's long hair from his eyes, and kissed his forehead. "Of course, my dear. Pomponia?"

Pomponia lifted the boy from his mother's lap, gave him a firm cuddle and a soft smile, brushed his hair as his mother had done, and handed him to the willowy, unhappy-looking girl, who put him on her hip and carried him away.

"Your duties," Aelia repeated, looking back to Nate. "Your first and most important duty shall be as a role model for my son, Aquilinus."

Me a role model? She's insane. Nate knew the doubts in his mind had flowed through to his face when Aelia began to answer them.

"A boy should mature under the guidance of a strong male. From the swordsmanship I witnessed and the instant friendship you have won with those connected to the Quinctilia's, for whom I have a high regard and from whom friendship is not easily gained, I am confidant you will be that. Your other duty will be to tend our bathrooms to ensure the villa is free of uncivilised aromas. Pomponia will instruct you there." Glancing across to the tall bag of bones, Nate was sure there was a trace of a smile at the edge of her mouth. "Pomponia is a long-serving member of my household, highly trusted, and you will do as she says. You shall do nothing without Pomponia's permission. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Aelia looked them up and down. "I hope so." With the required explanations given, she dismissed everyone except Nate and Hawk Eyes, with Scaevola assuming he was to stay for translation.

With the courtyard emptying, Nate asked, "Who they?" and pointed to the two departing females.

"Wait." The females stopped and turned to face their mistress. "It seems I have been remiss in my introductions, although I believe Pomponia should have done so already." Pomponia's eyes went to the ceiling.

"Fulvia." The flour covered woman stepped forward. "Fulvia is our cook, and a very good one at that, despite the amount of flour she wastes." Fulvia's entire body jiggled with laughter. It was then Nate noticed that what he had thought was a round belly was a pair of enormous, sagging breasts. Unfortunately for Nate, everyone else had noticed what he was noticing, including the cook, and her eyes hungered for him.

I think he wants me. Men do love to lose themselves in my breasts.

"Fulvia is a citizen of Rome, and you will do well to remember that when addressing her. That will be all, Fulvia," flat-chested Pomponia said, dismissing her. You may be a citizen, but I outrank you in this household.

"Marcellina." The girl with a shy smile and soft curves stepped forward. "Marcellina helps with Aquilinus and in the kitchen with Fulvia. She also sells wine in our shop and does various other tasks as Pomponia requests. As you can see from her fair hair and blue eyes, she hails from Germania." Marcellina preferred life as a slave in Rome to life as a peasant in Germania. Her parents had separated before she was born, her father returning only to rape her mother when his mood demanded it, and his friends raped her when the opportunity arose.

"Thank you, Marcellina."

The girl turned to follow Fulvia, allowing Nate's eyes an opportunity to admire her. Pomponia's eyes did likewise, though hers were filled with jealousy for the girl's youth. The other girl, the willowy, unhappy one, returned, holding the hand of the little boy, who quickly released himself from her grip to return to his mother's lap.

"And this, as you know," Aelia hugged the little boy close and kissed his head again, "is my beautiful boy Aquilinus. Aquilinus, say hello to Nate, your new big brother."

Big brother? I thought I was a role model. A brother is better than being a role model. Brothers have no responsibility and can punch each other out when they piss each other off.

"Are you going to be my big brother?" Aquilinus' eyes were wide, his mouth open.

"Guess so," Nate said with a smile.

"Woowww! Can we play swords and gladiators and cut off barbiarianses' heads?"

"Barbarians, Aquilinus. Bar-bare-ee-ans. Barbarians. He is only five." Aelia looked up at Nate and smiled.

"I want to cut off barbiarianses' heads," he repeated as he made slicing motions with his left hand, adding a swooshing sound for effect.

"Nate cut off a man's head yesterday." Scaevola had been unusually quiet until now.

"Woowwwwww! Did he?" The boy's eyes were popping out of his head. Scaevola nodded.

"Are you going to be my brother too? Is he, Mamma?" Aquilinus looked back and forward between his mother and Scaevola.

"We shall see, Aquilinus. For the moment Scaevola is here to help Nate become Roman."

"Why, Mamma?"

"Because Nate is not from Rome, Aquilinus."

"Are you a barbiarian, Nate?"

Scaevola answered before Nate could. "He is, and he is from a land so far away no Roman has ever heard of it, let alone been there."

"Woowwwwww! Really? Are you a barbiarian too?"

"No. I am a legionnaire." Scaevola stood as tall as he could, and puffed out his chest.

"Woowwwwww! My big brother is a legionnaire, and my biggest brother is a barbiarian! Did you hear that, Marcia?" Aquilinus asked the willowy girl who was quietly throwing Nate a disapproving look.

"Of course she did. This young woman is Marcia. Marcia assists me with Aquilinus, helps Pomponia in any way required, and at times aids Fulvia in the kitchen. Thank you, Marcia."

Marcia departed leaving Nate pondering why the girl looked so unhappy, not at all interested in her bony arse. Seeing Nate's disinterest, Pomponia showed no jealousy towards the girl. Marcia had been unfortunate enough to be the daughter of a citizen merchant who cleared his debts by selling his daughter into slavery.

"Would you like it if your big brother trained you in weaponry, Aquilinus?"

"Woowwwwww! Will he, will he really, Mamma?" Aquilinus leapt into the air, his imaginary sword chopping off imaginary heads while legions followed him into battle.

"Yes, and he shall also be required to escort you to the Senate and the Forum to hear important speeches and learn politics."

"Speeches? Speeches are boring. Do I have to?" There was a momentary cessation in the imaginary bloodshed until the boy's lust for glory rekindled; speechmaker's and senator's heads were severed.

"In addition, you are to take Aquilinus camping so he may become accustomed to the hardships of military life. You have been camping, have you not, Nate?"

"Yes," but only with the boy scouts, not an army.

"Woowwwwww! Really?" Aquilinus chopped off the heads of lions and bears.

"Really. And camping may include time spent with Uncle Titus. But today, we are going on a special trip, the details of which I shall tell you when we are underway." Pointing to Scaevola and Nate, Aelia continued. "You two shall this morning spend time with Pomponia, learning the standards of hygiene that I expect of you. I will not have you assaulting my nose."

"Can I stay with my new brothers, Mamma?"

"No. You shall come with me."

"Ohhhhhhhh. Can I not stay? Do I have to go?"

"No and yes."

Aquilinus looked puzzled.

"You are coming with me."

"Ohhhhhhhh, alright."

Shortly before leaving, Milonia arrived to accompany Aelia, Fulvia, Marcia, Marcellina, and Aquilinus on their trip. Aquilinus sat comfortably on Marcellina's hip.

The two young males then turned to Pomponia, and Nate asked, "Do what?"

"I beg your pardon." Pomponia's head was leaning back to allow her to peer down her nose.

You are a very unattractive woman. "What you want us do?"

"First, I would like you to improve your vocabulary and diction. Scaevola," she turned to the boy, "that will be a task of yours."

"It already is."

"Then improve your performance, boy. Next, I have noticed that you both need to improve your hygiene, because your aromas," she said with obvious distaste, "have taken hold of this house."

I had a bath last night, Nate thought. What's her game?

"The situation is not acceptable to me and it is not acceptable to your mistress. Both of you in there, now," she said as she pushed and prodded Nate and Scaevola into a small bathroom adjacent to their bedroom. On the far side of the room were hot rocks in an iron pot onto which Pomponia ladled water from a wooden bucket to create steam. There were towels hanging from hooks, some jars on a shelf, and numerous strigils.

Nate made straight for the bucket of water.

"Wait. You go first, boy," Pomponia said to Scaevola. He walked to the bucket, picked it up, and was about to pour it over his head when... "Wait."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Now, take off your clothes."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Did you not listen to your mistress? You will do as I say."

"Did you not listen to her? While I have to call her 'Mistress,' I am here to help Nate, not do as you tell me." That stopped Pomponia for a moment, and Scaevola took comfort in his victory.

"Very well then. I shall ask Mistress Aelia if she wishes me to inform Prefect Titus of your attitude."

Scaevola's shoulders slumped, and he removed his tunic.

"Remove all of your clothes, boy." Scaevola turned his back and removed his loincloth. "Now, scrape your body with that strigil." Scaevola did so. "Moisten this towel in the small bucket and wipe your body clean." Pomponia handed him a towel. "Now, take one of those jars from the shelf, use it to moisten the towel, and wipe your body again."

Removing one of the jars from the shelf, Scaevola noticed the oil within had a smell of flowers. He was not sure what type of flower it was, and after wiping his body with it, he too smelt of flowers. I smell like one of Paulus and Longinus' courtesans.

"Now, moisten the towel in the same bucket and wipe your body again." Scaevola complied. "This is the procedure you are to follow every day. Do not miss a day, or you will regret it. Understood?"

"Yes, Pomponia."

"Get dressed. I have errands for you."

Scaevola departed with a mental list of tasks and the coin they required. With the length of the list, Nate was sure his little mate would be gone for hours.

"You are next. Take off your clothes."

Nate did so, and stood comfortably in his skin. After watching Scaevola, he knew what to do and started with the strigil, scraping away dead skin and dirt while Pomponia circled and watched intently. The bony-arsed old crone is getting her jollies. Once finished with the strigil, he removed a towel from its hook and moved to the bucket.

"Wait."

"Know what to do. Watched Scaevola." He started moistening the towel in the large bucket.

"Please wait. I shall do that for you." She snatched the towel from him.

So the skinny old hawk not only wants to eyeball me, she wants to feel me up too. I have never been with a woman so ugly. He tried to embarrass her by staring her down. It did not work. Her eyes had no interest in his face. Realising the futility of his stare, Nate closed his eyes and pretended the hands that cleansed him belonged to Sarah. As with Sarah, Pomponia's hands were very thorough. They cleansed his back, his chest, his arms, his legs, his buns, and finally his crotch, where the thought of Sarah brought him to attention.

You will be mine, boy.

Sarah's mouth feels good too. Warm and... Nate's eyes popped open when he remembered where he was. He looked down to see Pomponia on her knees, her eyes looking up to his. She rolled her tongue around his tip and then, holding his schlong firmly, stood to lead him to her bedroom.

He makes no protest.

She sat him on the edge of her bed where pillows had been carefully prearranged to support his back in an upright position. Nate sat comfortably and allowed her to spread his legs for access. Normally talkative and unintentionally flattering during sex, Nate sat quietly, his only movements involuntary when she touched his sweet spots.

"Stay still." Pomponia was licking him like an ice cream. You need do nothing for today. Her tongue was in control as it licked around him and tickled his opening.

This is sooo ... keep going ... intense. Nate could not stop squirming. What's she reaching for under there? From under the bed Pomponia retrieved warm honey and spread it over his shaft. Oh that feels good.

Pomponia had been hurt by men. She knew they found her unattractive, only wanting to engage with her while intoxicated. Only used, never loved, she decided long ago to use men in the same way, seeking only a physical relationship. To do that she needed to be accomplished in bed, and to be that she sought out her half-sister, a courtesan, to educate her in love making skills. Separated by thirty years and different mothers, Pomponia was a slave and her sister a citizen, but they helped each other when they could.

I love his salty taste fighting the sweetness of my honey.

What is she reaching for now...cream? She spread cream over his groin, abdomen, and chest to mop it with her mouth. I've never enjoyed head like this. Are all ugly women this good?

Pomponia produced a small, warm cloth to wipe away the cream her tongue had missed. Nate closed his eyes to enjoy the warmth. He opened them when something cold touched his thighs.

Ice! Their eyes locked.

I have him. Porcia knows her craft. Arousing men aroused Pomponia; she ached to be filled. With her eyes locked on his, knowing she could use him now in any way she wanted, she interchanged her cube of costly ice with the warm, moist cloth, oscillating his sensations. Make him simmer, not boil, make it last so he craves more.

Deep throat, Porcia had called it. Raising herself up to look down on him, Pomponia opened her mouth in a wide, yawning motion, relaxed her tongue to the floor of her mouth, and slid her mouth over him until her lips kissed his groin. She had practiced the technique many times on the replica penis she had purchased from her sister. An impressive size. Porcia's suggestion to practise the technique by swallowing grapes whole had reduced a reflexive urge to gag.

With his back arching and his groans building, Pomponia knew he was near to climax and increased the zeal of her activity. Tasting his salty release, Pomponia pulled him away to hold him just inside her mouth, blocking her throat with her tongue so as not to swallow. I want you to see that I enjoy this. Not until he was watching did she swallow, pushing small amounts that had escaped onto her chin back into her mouth with his penis.

She didn't spill a drop. Like Jane and Didi, Pomponia likes her beef salted. I'll never look at her toothy mouth in the same way again. Nate was flat on his back, his arms straight out from his shoulders considering whether he should return the favour, when Pomponia stood and walked out of the room.

She wants nothing after that? Shit. I feel indebted. Nate looked to the ceiling and closed his eyes. I need to think before I act, stop doing what feels good, and start following my heart. In Sydney I wanted a keeper and became a gigolo. Here I want my ribbon girl and find myself with a cougar who looks like a hawk. Can I say no to this woman? Can I risk being sold when I need to stay close to Aelia and her connections to become a senator? There will be more rain before I reach my rainbow.

I have him. The look in his eyes said he will come back for more. I have a new man to please until he no longer pleases me. When that happens I will convince Aelia to sell him. It took all Pomponia's willpower to walk away from the young man lying naked on her bed. I only wish my crotch could accommodate a man without afterwards enduring that horrible desire to constantly urinate.

# Chapter 18

# Glade, the Lost, and Porcia

##

## Ancient Rome - July 28, 40 CE

## The Future - March 30, 2046

When he was not working in the fields, Glade hovered above the marble building in the middle of the human city, kneeling on his Shield hoping to catch a glimpse of Sarai.

His friends in the Lost had given commitments of aid should a plan likely to succeed be devised for her rescue. Keeping company with the Lost broke his melancholy moods, their children flocking to him with smiles and laughter, eager for the wind in their hair as they sat at his feet to co-pilot his Shield.

Through Porcia, Glade learned Sarai was well; her captors had done her no harm. She now belonged to the madam of the Imperial Brothel, to be used by only one man, the human emperor. The location for the best chance of sighting Sarai was above the palace, near its centre. Sarai missed her friends, her family, and especially Glade. Hearing his name and learning he was actively working towards her rescue had brightened Sarai's mood and given her hope she could return home.

Porcia is a good friend who will help when she can, yes. In thanks Glade drank more water each visit, and enrolled his friend Gigante to do the same for the lady in the southern window.

XVIII

"I love the smell of the smoke and the heat from the sacred flame, Sarai." Caligula breathed deeply, dismounted Incitatus, and held a hand out to Sarai. His sword dripped with blood. "Did you know I was saved by the smoke from the sacred bush? Before I breathed its healing properties for the first time, Mercury had me halfway to the river. I do not know from where the Vestals sourced the bush, perhaps from the gods themselves, but I do know where they grow it. It is up there, on the roof of their quarters. The world has Mother and my beloved Julia Livilla to thank for my life."

It is the Leluuwahn bush, yes. Your Vestals stole it. Their minds must be closed to its properties or they would fly. If I knew mind talk, I could use it as our elders do. No one knows I am here.

"It is here I was saved, and it is here that I wish us to become one." Caligula pissed on the marble floor not far from the flame. He shook his penis with vigour, flicking away the final drops before reaching out for Sarai's hand to walk them downwind of the flame. "Come. We shall drink the sacred water, breathe the sacred smoke, and make love on the altar."

Sarai knew her role. She was to soothe the emperor's desires, Porcia confident that to do so would keep Saria from harm. Sarai enlarged her breasts by drinking the offered water, bent forward to accept him, and when she felt his crotch touch her buttocks extended her vaginal tongue towards him.

"WHAT IS THIS? You harbour a serpent inside you?"

"Your women have no tongue? It will stimulate the Emperor, yes it will. Come." Still bent forward, she held out a hand to encourage his return.

Caligula edged forward, holding her hand, his eyes not leaving the serpent he now recognised as a tongue. When the tongue touched his genitals it wrapped around them, stroking and squeezing. "Oh Sarai, you make me so hard it hurts. Uh!" The thin tip of her vaginal tongue extended itself into his penis, delving deep to wrap itself around his testicles as it drew him into her.

Their coupling was brief and functional, the emperor powerless to contain himself.

No need for vibration? Sarai was thankful for her ability to withhold the release of her eggs. Who is this?

"Gaius, you should not be here, and you should not be defiling the flame that protects Rome with one such as that." Julia Drusilla placed Rome above all.

"I am Rome, my sister, and you shall pay for your intrusion."

# Chapter 19

# The Glory of Rome

##

## Ancient Rome - July 29, 40 CE

## The Future - May 19, 2046

"Woooaahh. What a view. Great seats, Lucius," Nate said in English as they arrived at their contoured marble seats. They were two-thirds of the way up the amphitheatrum, in the centre of the southern side. Lucius had secured tickets to the opening from his patrons, the Quinctilia, to avoid queuing the night before. The tickets were small pieces of pottery with the gate, section, row, and seat numbers etched into them and were inspected three times before spectators reached their seats; first at the tall stone posts that guarded the perimeter of the amphitheatrum, next at the outer wall to receive direction to the correct stairway, and finally by the usher who showed them to their seats.

A few rows behind them the seats were made of timber, an area reserved for women and, Nate judged by their clothing, the poor. The top level contained no seating, only slaves controlling sails on long wooden poles that sloped down towards the centre of the arena. The sails provided spectators with shelter from the weather, and were counter-levered and anchored by thick ropes to the stone posts on the ground where the four had first been required to show their tickets.

Below them, Publius, Lucius, Scaevola, and Nate could see the comfort of the seats improving with their proximity to the arena. The spectators occupying the first few rows were separated from the sand-covered arena by a five-metre-high stone wall. Topping the wall was the ancient's version of barbed wire: elephant tusks pointing out and curving down to protect spectators from wild animals seeking to escape their doom.

Covered seating for Vestal Virgins, the emperor and his entourage occupied the narrowest sections of the oval-shaped arena, on the lowest level of the southern and northern sides respectively. The first row to the east and west were for those of senatorial rank. Many of the important had cushions, the marble seating being too hard for their often ample bottoms. Interspersed between the elite were pockets of archers poised to provide protection if the wall and elephant tusks were not enough.

I think that's her, the ribboned woman, directly in front of me. If only she would turn around so I can see her eyes. Nate was on the edge of his seat, craning his neck for a better view.

The distinct levels of seating made it obvious that Rome was not an egalitarian society, and nowhere, apart from the emperor's covered box, did Nate see a place where men and women mixed. Is there nowhere I could meet her? Under the floor of the arena were rooms and corridors that held and transported the animals, gladiators, theatrical props, and convicted souls awaiting death. The lower floors contained food outlets, gambling, and prostitution. The basement had tunnels connecting gladiators to their training school, a hospital, and a morgue. While a morgue was needed, Nate knew there were times in the amphitheatrum's history when bodies piled so high, they were pushed out the four main gates to unmarked graves.

"What did he say?" a breathless Publius asked Scaevola, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder to steady himself.

"I think he was complimenting Lucius on the seats."

"Yes. Owe Lucius for tickets?" It was a token gesture; Nate had no money, and believed the tickets were free.

"They are free, my friend." Lucius had found the climb to the seats difficult, his crouched walk making it all the more difficult. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I only hope the entertainment is to your liking. Here, you two sit between Publius and I, and we shall..." Lucius was drowned out by a blast of trumpets.

The crowd "oohed" and "aahed" as a long rectangular section of the floor running east to west slowly dropped two metres into the ground to create a waterway that filled from holes along its sides. Once full, an earth-covered barge with trumpeters at its corners floated into the arena from the east with no apparent means of propulsion. It carried a man wearing a purple cape on a white horse, and came to a halt in the middle of the stadium. The horse reared, leapt from the barge, and galloped up a ramp to the emperor's box where the rider dismounted, threw his reins to the wind, and stood sideways to the throne, hands on hips, peering at the crowd.

"CALIGULA, CALIGULA," rang out from the mob.

He may be mad, but that was a dramatic entrance, Nate thought. His eyes kept darting back to his Vestal in the hope she would turn around.

Caligula held one hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, and another to acknowledge the adoring multitude. He was introduced as a God by a portly man with a watermelon shaped head, no neck, and arms that dangled at his sides as he walked.

Ugly. Perhaps he's an ancestor of the hunchback of Notre Dame.

Publius and Lucius exchanged glances, Publius almost spitting out the name "Licinius," and both shuddered. When Licinius finished the introduction, the emperor's hand in the air brought silence to the arena.

"My friends, my countrymen, my people. We, as Romans, take our civilisation to the uncivilised...give culture to the uncultured...bring morals and mercy to immoral and merciless lands. We spread the glory that is Rome TO THE WORLD THAT WE CONQUER! Our empire expands day by day, and today...I bring the world to Rome for your entertainment. LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"

At every pause the crowd, primed for the blood of barbarians, cheered with pride and expectation. Publius, Lucius, and Scaevola were no exception. While the emperor had been glorifying the Roman world, Incitatus had been led out, the barge continued its course until it reached the other side of the arena, and the ramp to the royal box was in the process of being pulled away by muscular men wearing little but loin cloths.

When Caligula was seated, two lions, rearing up to slash each other, entered on a second barge, roaring and pawing dust into the air as each sought advantage over the other. The smaller of the two lions had gashes down one side, and jumped from the barge to scamper up the emperor's ramp, causing men to panic, scatter in all directions, and some to jump in the water.

The lion was not looking for a meal; it sought only escape from its larger adversary. The animal leapt from the top of the ramp towards the emperor's box, stretching limbs and claws to reach safety. It failed. The beast hit the stone wall hard, plummeting to the ground and breaking a hind leg in a puff of dust. His opponent went in for the kill.

There was no disruption in the entertainment as sheep, goats, cows with huge horns that Publius said were aurochs, and trees in large wooden pots, sprung up from all parts of the arena floor via trapdoors. Prey animals trotted in groups, bleating and mooing, their bulging eyes combing the arena for predators.

"How are they to be slaughtered?" Scaevola asked.

Wild dogs. Dozens of wild dogs were now entering from the west on the barge Caligula had used, howling, snarling, and eager for the hunt as they broke into two packs, one on each side of the canal, quickly bringing down animals who cried out in pain as they were eaten alive. Dozens of deaths were taking place around the arena as animals frantically tried and failed to extricate themselves from the slaughter at hand.

All the men from the ramp had escaped bar one, his head barely above the water at the eastern end of the canal as he searched for deliverance. Most of the prey had been dragged to the ground or trapped, fear in their eyes for the fate they saw others enduring. Nate heard a small, frightened lamb bleat from behind a tree at the north-western end of the canal, not far from the man in the water.

The lion, which had been dragging its dead opponent by the neck, charged towards a still-twitching cow that three dogs were ripping apart below the emperor's box. The dogs scattered to muscle in on the food of others.

The water level of the canal rose, spilling over its walls to disappear into a drain that ran along its edge, and Nate's attention returned to the man hiding within it. The man grasped the situation quickly and started to swim, then wade, and then run towards the western end, where predators were few. When the floor of the canal was almost at arena level, he stepped out and, in a crouching run, sought shelter behind the same tree as the lamb. He picked up the lamb and cuddled it close. The little innocent quietened as its potential saviour sought an avenue of escape not visible to Nate and Scaevola.

The drama was dying, literally. The crowd sat and watched the predators feed as if it were intermission at the movies. Lucius was chatting to Publius, who started to speak of Amanda to Nate, when the next event commenced. Two trapdoors, one on the northern side and one on the southern side, immediately in front of the emperor and Vestals respectively, fell away, and two sets of ten gladiators were raised to the arena on platforms, their shields and lances creating turtle formations. Conversation between the new friends ceased.

"Gladiators," Nate said in English as he kept one eye on the fighters and one eye on the man with the lamb. In the excitement Nate kept forgetting to speak Italian, but the word was close enough to the Italian name—gladiatore—to not matter. He glanced down at the Vestal and noticed she was now on the edge of her seat, appearing to look closely at each of the fighters, and for the first time he saw her in profile. She must be attracted to fighting men. She's looking for someone.

"Bestiarius," Publius said. "They are called Bestiaries, Nate, because they fight animals, not men."

The turtle on the northern side first moved to kill the lion by backing it up to the arena wall below the emperor, throwing spears that weakened its roars, and finally ending its life with sword thrusts to its neck. Parallel to the events in the north, the bestiaries in the southern turtle moved quickly to the western end of the arena and systematically moved from carcass to carcass, west to east, killing squealing dogs with protruding spears until the animals formed into one angry pack to defend themselves at the eastern end. The turtle, having pushed them there, waited for the lion slayers to finish their job, and the wait was not long. Once combined, all twenty bestiaries spread out in a line, moving forward with spears clashing against shields with each measured step.

As the last howl of canine agony faded, the bestiaries moved in a line to stand before the emperor's box, raised their arms in a Nazi-style salute, and then marched in unison back to the trapdoors to leave the arena in the fashion arrived, dramatically. Nate noticed the man with the lamb run to hitch a ride with the bestiaries on the southern side and was pleased for them both. He applauded the small victory of the kind-hearted man as the first smell of blood wafted up to greet him. Oh shit. I feel queasy. Toughen up buttercup, he scolded himself, but the brutality inflicted on innocent animals made him uncomfortable.

She sits back on her chair.

XIX

He was not amongst them. Perhaps my wild man will fight later.

XIX

Publius handed Nate a small ball of amber. "It will mask the smell of death." Lucius did the same for Scaevola. It helped a little, but only with the smell.

"What is next?" Scaevola happily asked of Lucius. "Gladiators?"

"There may be some animal hunts, or perhaps executions. The gladiators will not appear until after intermission."

An attendant came to their row with snacks on a box held by a rope slung around his neck. I could be at a Rabbitoh's game. This place is surreal.

Lucius, being closest to the aisle, bought snacks for all, and handed them out.

"Thank," Nate said, wondering what the snack was. It looked like a sausage roll, and when he bit into it, discovered it was. The meat is a little spicier than back home, but nice.

After the snack came more bestiaries and animals to hunt—leopards, giraffes, tigers, aurochs, elephants, crocodiles, rhinos, and hippos. The range of exotic animals hunted and slaughtered was wide, and each death increased the smell of blood in Nate's 21st century nostrils. When the last animal was killed, shortly before the lunchtime intermission, executions commenced.

Three men were raised on crosses through trapdoors on both the northern and southern sides of the arena, six men in total, their feet free to move while their arms were bound to cross beams by thick leather straps.

Again she looks closely at the men, and then sits back in her chair. She's definitely looking for someone.

XIX

Praise be to Jupiter; my wild man is not one of them.

XIX

Six lions sauntered from six trapdoors to shy away and look up at a raucous mob, most startled into seeking a way out, most, but not all. When the first cat attacked, leaping to claw its way up a cross, legs were quickly raised on all crosses. Able to climb no higher, the big cat sprang from the post to land gently on the dusty arena, its eyes finding more than one meal on a stick, those meals frantically twisting their heads downwards in search of predators or upwards to the sky for hope. Meals crying out for mercy and redemption were drowned out by voyeurs screaming for their despair.

There was a blast of trumpets, and the cross of the man in the centre of the southern side dropped a metre to be within reach of the cats. A lioness jumped onto the cross and ascended it, her prey unable to escape her claws as she dug them deep into the flesh of a calf muscle, pulling herself up to clamp her yellow teeth into his thighs. Her shaking head tore the leg from its torso, unleashing screams of pain and terror from her victim, his cries for God's mercy ending abruptly when his left leg met the same fate as his right. The man's head fell forward, his body went limp, and no more screams did he make. Trumpets sounded and the cross dropped further, giving the remainder of the pride meat to fill their empty bellies. Within moments, only a right arm dangled from the cross.

I feel sick. This was no Hollywood blockbuster.

One after another, four more crosses dropped, lions roared and men screamed feverish unanswered prayers and involuntarily emptied their bowels and bladders as they awaited their doom until only one man remained alive, the man directly before Caligula. His cross was turned by mechanical means, clunk, clunk, clunk, until he faced the emperor. The crowd went silent in anticipation of hearing his fate.

"What was your crime?" Caligula asked, lifting his hand to his face to breathe deeply from a small cloth bag.

They were all on a cross, so they must all be Christians, Nate thought. The man's legs were wet with urine, his post splattered with faeces.

"Rape, which I did not commit."

He sounds defiant; surprising given the state of his legs. Nate sat his chin on his knuckles.

"If you wish to live, I suggest you address me with respect...rapist."

"Your pardon, great Caesar."

"Whom did you rape?"

"I was accused and wrongly convicted of raping a senator's wife. I did not rape her, Caesar. She gave herself to me freely."

"So if you are not a rapist, you are an adulterer. Both are crimes, though I do admit to enjoying the pleasures of a senator's wife." There were sniggers from the crowd above and disapproving looks from those on lower levels.

"Were her breasts large?" questioned a smart aleck from the crowd. The amphitheatrum went silent for a moment, wondering how the emperor would react. Caligula looked up at the smart aleck and then repeated the question to the man on the pole before drawing another breath through the small bag.

At first put off at having been asked such a question, the man, realising the crowd may determine his fate, responded with humour.

"Large, ripe, and tasty, great Caesar." The crowd guffawed.

"Do you have more questions for him?" Caligula asked the smart aleck.

"Were her buttocks firm?"

"Full and firm, great Caesar, a pleasure to ride." The cheering crowd were delighted.

"And her vagina?" This time Caligula asked the question.

"Warm, moist, and tight, great Caesar."

"No wonder he took her," the now-standing smart aleck shouted, and the amphitheatrum erupted in laughter and applause.

"Is she here? Can you see her? If so, please point her out, as I too would like to delight in her treats," Caligula announced. "Good people of Rome, what say you of this man? Life...or death?" He held his right hand out, thumb parallel to the ground as he awaited their answer.

The male-dominated crowd, already cheering the adulterer's exploits, gave an answer not unexpected. A royal thumb was raised.

"How release?" Nate asked of his friends as he watched two lions prowling the ground beneath the cross, the other cats still enjoying their meals.

When his cross began retreating into the ground, the man and the crowd thought Caligula had betrayed their verdict. There was no need for concern. Archers were signalled to keep the lions at bay, and they did so as if their lives depended on it, allowing the man to be safely lowered through a trapdoor. The lions were not so fortunate, cleared by bestiaries.

XIX

The emperor returned to his seat, and his mother leant forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Is it wise to antagonise the senate so publicly, Gaius?"

Caligula pulled away from her touch, petulant in his silence.

"Is it true that you have the services of a Leluuwahn female?"

"Yes, mother, though I would say that is none of your business."

"Perhaps. But look up, and you may find it is his." Agrippina pointed to the sky over the southern side of the arena.

Caligula eyed the Leluuwahn male his mother referred to, stood and commanded a dozen archers be sent to the top of the amphitheatrum.

"Shoot the thing down."

I must calm him. It will demonstrate to the populace that my influence endures.

XIX

"Lunch." Publius stood, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"What can we eat?" Scaevola was hungry too.

"I believe they have organised a number of food outlets in the basement area, and I have also heard there will be passes to allow us to buy fresh fruit in the stalls outside, newly set up for the purpose." Lucius was full of information. "However, many will have brought their own food to ensure they do not need to join the queues, whilst others among the upper echelons, the rows below us, will have slaves deliver their food to them. You can see that happening..."

"Lucius." Publius raised a hand. "He simply wants to know what he can eat, not how or what everyone else is eating."

"Meat. Dead animals," Nate said to his amiable hosts, pointing towards the arena. "Lots meat. Who that?" Resisting a desire to ask of his Vestal, he was not ready to announce his intentions for her yet, Nate pointed to a woman who was standing before Caligula brushing an unruly lock of hair behind his ear.

"That is the emperor's mother, Agrippina the Elder," Publius answered. "She can soothe his troubled spirit. Do you think your friend from the bed resembles her?"

Nate nodded. "Why emperor keep breath from bag?"

"I did not notice that," Publius said.

"Neither did I," Scaevola added.

"Nor I." Lucius was uncharacteristically brief.

As the friends shuffled sideways out of their seats, archers raced past them up the steps. All watched as the archers reached the top, drew their bows, and let loose their arrows to bounce off a Leluuwahn's Shield. The flyer retreated above their range.

"Glade?" Nate asked quietly, leaning towards Scaevola. Scaevola nodded in reply. Nate looked down to the Vestal, hoping she was looking up towards Glade. Gone. Perhaps I'll find her in the corridors below.

XIX

Glade stood on his Shield, wondering if the man who had ridden the horse on the boat was the same man Porcia had spoken of. He must be, yes. He led the humans in their thirst for blood, and he has enjoyed Sarai. Those who seek glory in power become less when they abuse it, yes. Glade sunk to his knees, held the edge of his Shield, and took comfort in his memories of Sarai. Porcia will rescue her soon, yes. I must believe.

XIX

Perhaps they killed him after they hauled him away. I should not want him. Mother and Gaius will not accept a man below my station. Julia dawdled to her quarters, dejected not to have seen her untamed man. I will return after lunch to look again.

XIX

The underground levels had food in abundance, the air spiced with the smell of freshly cooked meat. The flesh of all the slain animals was available from sheep to goat, from auroch to giraffe, from crocodile to hippo to rhino to lion to dog, all on fresh bread with gravy. Scaevola had giraffe with giraffe gravy because he wanted to be taller, Lucius had leopard with tiger gravy, because he liked their speed and strength, and Nate had crocodile with auroch gravy for no other reason than he wanted to try them. Publius had rhino with rhino gravy and finely ground rhino horn for reasons he would not disclose. Lucius took coin from his pocket and paid for it all.

The four wandered through the lower floors of the amphitheatrum, watching gladiators prepare for upcoming battles, reviewing animals in cages, peering over the shoulders of gamblers, all the while Nate discretely searching for his Vestal. They were occasionally accosted by disgruntled prostitutes in high heels and sheer tunics who were trying unsuccessfully to sell their wares.

I thought high heels were a modern invention, but when Nate later browsed the web on his phone, he was surprised to find the ancient Egyptians had started the fashion. Sex has been selling for a long time.

Ding-a-ling-a-ling. "What bell for?"

"Some unfortunate fellow's wife has committed adultery," Publius answered.

How does a bell relate to adultery? "Do no understand."

"If a man's wife commits adultery, her punishment is more of her crime."

"She have sex more?"

"Yes. Her husband puts her in a small room, and any man who wishes can have sex with her. When each man finishes, he rings a bell to say she has had sex again. Her punishment is more of her crime."

"Same for men?"

"Oh no. That would not work. Too many men would be keen for the punishment."

When they arrived at the morgue, Nate was surprised to find it lacked corpses and the stench of death. "No bodies?"

"So far the men who have died have been eaten," Scaevola answered.

Yes. I should have thought of that. Observant boy.

They returned to ground level and secured exit passes to buy fresh fruit. Publius reached into his pocket this time, and they ate most of the produce he bought as they strolled around the amphitheatrum, only a few pieces remaining when they returned to their seats. Trumpet blasts signalled the entry of the gladiators, who paraded around the arena dressed in ornate armour of gold and silver with fine-looking feathers on their helmets and shoulders.

The Vestal had already been seated when Nate arrived at his, and again he noticed she was sitting forward on her chair. Who is she looking for? He followed where she was looking, and saw many plumed gladiators.

"Fight in that?" Nate asked of Publius.

"No, no. That is for show. They will finish their circle of the arena, salute the emperor, and then their leaders, the most experienced men among them, will disband to the lower levels to prepare. The lesser fighters will stay in the arena to fight first."

They were all strong men, some by their build more agile than others. Those at the front stood straight with chests out, those at the rear fidgeted with their armour. According to Publius, the fidgeters were the less experienced fighters, and their armour varied greatly from man to man. They did not wave to the crowd, and they did not look around. Some looked to the ground and noticed blood from earlier entertainment, causing them to take deep, steadying breaths.

Nate's chest heaved. I know that feeling.

Publius and Lucius provided constant and informative commentary. The brutal, plate-metal-covered version of a modern boxing glove was called a cestus. Swords with dual blades were used to entrap an opponent's weapon with a twist of the wrist. The men on horseback with spears would have one opportunity to throw before jumping from their steeds to fight on foot with their short swords, the gladii from which gladiators took their name. A mounted archer was called a Sagittarius, they being the most trustworthy and experienced of riders or else injury to spectators could follow. There were men wearing shin guards on the left leg, a small round shield on the left arm, and arm guards on the sword arm; men with long shields; men with tridents and nets; men with full, round face helmets designed to avoid being snared by a net and with small eye holes to repel the fine points of a trident. There was so much for Nate to take in, and it seemed no sooner had the gladiators commenced their march around the arena than they had completed it to stand in front of Caligula.

Raising their arms in salute, they shouted as one, "Ave Caesar, those who are about to die salute you." Most fighters departed the arena to wait their turn to fight, and when he looked down Nate noticed his Vestal had departed too. Damn. I should try to forget her I suppose.

Men had their throats cut, their hearts run through, hands and arms left dangling by strips of flesh, barely surviving their battles, only to be given the thumbs down. Others had to be whipped to fight by a lorarius. It was the role of the lorarius to ensure all men did their part for the show. The few who were whipped did not last long and had their sexuality questioned by the crowd. "Dainty boy," "analist," "chick" and "concubine" were some of the terms shouted. Publius explained that for a man the desire to penetrate an attractive youth was acceptable and normal, but the desire to receive was sick.

Nate watched battle after battle, wondering how he would fare, and in his mind he always fell short of victory. I have no desire to walk onto that arena. My luck ran strong against Laurentius. Even the less experienced combatants he assessed as superior fighters to him. When the lesser fighters had finished, the experienced gladiators re-entered the arena.

"My swords are made by Valerius. You can find him in the armoury of the Ludus Magnus."

"I eat food from the Emporio Pesce, The Place for Fine Food in Rome, which can be found at the amphitheatrum end of the Forum. Providore Fabricius prepares fish pickle that is to die for."

"My leather ware, the finest in the Empire, is made by Gordianus," boomed a deep-voiced gladiator. "His familia has produced the toughest armour for five generations. He can be found at the western end of Ludus Magnus."

"You're kidding," Nate said in English.

Before being asked, Scaevola shrugged. "I do not know what he means. Nate, what do you mean?"

Searching for words, Nate replied, "He do...umm...product advertise?"

"Yes, of course," Lucius replied. "Gladiators are extremely popular, Nate, especially amongst the women. The approving words of a renowned gladiator for a merchant's products can double or triple sales. Most of these men are prisoners of war, you know, and when you consider their only choice is to fight or enter slavery, the opportunity the arena offers for wealth beyond anything they could achieve in their homeland is alluring."

"Promotions such as those," Publius gestured with an outstretched arm towards the arena, "can earn them more than their winnings. And they can prostitute themselves to wealthy women."

"Adultery?" I thought that was illegal.

"Yes. They must be discreet." Publius had lowered his voice.

"What fish pickle?"

"It is yummy, Nate," Scaevola said. "You spread it on bread and...and everything really!"

"Mash fish?"

"It is their chopped and dried innards made into a creamy paste. Like Scaevola, I also eat it on just about everything, but then again, as you can see," Lucius held his stomach and smiled, "I will eat almost anything."

Bout after bout followed, and each fight ended with the defeated man either being killed by his opponent or, if he had asked for mercy by raising an arm, given the famous thumbs up by the emperor if so encouraged by the crowd. The dead were dragged out through the Gate of Death, at the western end, by those dressed as Charon, the Ferryman of the Underworld. The Charon, with their greasy and foul-looking clothes and unkempt beards and long poles, ensured any left injured on the ground were dead before they departed the arena. The victors walked through the Gate of Life, at the eastern end.

To move his twenty-first-century mind from the ancient carnage below, Nate often looked up to watch hundreds of men control the sails above him. They directed a south-westerly breeze into the arena to disperse its odours and spread a mist of scented water to mask the stench of blood. The Romans were organised, and Nate enjoyed watching the logistics. There was only one fight that he watched from start to finish, a classic match between a retiarii and a murmillone.

It was the trident and the net that caught his attention. The gladiator holding them wore no helmet, allowing the crowd to see a serious and determined young face. Despite being not much older than Nate, he possessed the calm and confident bearing of a man who had faced death on many occasions and survived.

"Spartacus," Scaevola said with excitement. "He is my favourite at the Circus, Nate."

"Circus Maximus? Chariot races at Circus...thought?"

"Mostly," Lucius replied, "but there are fights also, and if you want to socialise with the ladies of Rome, Nate, well...that is the place to go."

"He one who advertise leather?" Scaevola confirmed it, adding that Spartacus promoted fish pickle from the Emporio Pesce when he fought at the Circus.

Spartacus. Here is another timeline anomaly and a name of legend. The famous gladiator had led thousands of slaves in a rebellion in the first century BC. "Ever been slave rebellion?"

"No," Lucius answered and he and his brother exchanged worried glances, hoping their new friend was not planning something. "Would you like to hear the history of this type of gladiator, Nate?"

Nate knew that verbose little Lucius was going to tell him anyway. Having seen the worried looks on his friends' faces, he was happy for the change of subject.

"Well, the early gladiators were prisoners of war who preferred to fight using the weapons of their people over becoming slaves. When we defeated the Egyptians, the captives brought with them the trident, the three-pronged spear you see Spartacus holding. The trident is favoured for its ability to trap an opponent's weapon from a distance. The distance is needed because, as you can see, Spartacus wears no armour apart from a shoulder guard to protect his neck and head. Without armour, Spartacus needs speed and agility, and as you can see, he is lithe of frame.

"As the trident is also the weapon and symbol of Neptune, God of the Sea, it is matched with a weighted net to make Spartacus a gladiatorial fisherman called a retiarii, or net fighter, as some say. Because Neptune does not wear a helmet, neither do the retiarii.

"The man following the fisherman is a murmillone. Do you see his helmet?"

Nate nodded. It looks shiny and new with some golden??? embellishments. He squinted to focus. Yes, golden icons. An extravagant hat to die in.

Lucius was enjoying the freedom to speak without a request to stop. "See how it curves up at the front, almost like the open mouth of a fish?" Nate nodded again. "Well, the helmet symbolises a fish, making the murmillone the fish to be caught in the retiarii's net. See the visor that covers his face? And the small holes in it?" Nod, nod, nod. "That is to protect the murmillone's face from the points of the trident. See his body shape? How he is stocky compared to Spartacus?" Nod, nod, nod. "His shape is an indication that he is slower than Spartacus and so needs more armour. See his greaves, the protection on his left leg and sword arm? See the tall shield he holds on his left arm?" Nate continued nodding. "With his gladius, a gladius is a short sword from which gladiators take their name, and his shield, the murmillone is best suited to close combat.

"So you see, this is how we like our gladiators, Nate. We like them to fight with different styles. Also, do you see how—?"

"Lucius," Publius said, holding up a hand, unable to take any more. "Let him watch the fight, please." Lucius went quiet. Scaevola did not. He started shouting the name of Spartacus, as did thousands of others in the amphitheatrum.

"SPARTACUS...SPARTACUS...SPARTACUS..." shouted the crowd, stomping their feet with each "SPARTICUS" until the fight started.

Slightly crouched, the right-handed antagonists circled each other to the left, Spartacus using his trident to probe for an opening he had yet to find. The murmillone countered each strike, defending with shield and sword, pulling his head back to avoid the trident.

"STICK HIM!" "GUT THE FISH!" "FILLET THE MULLETT!" came the cries from the crowd, and from Scaevola: "TURN HIM INTO FISH PICKLE!"

XIX

"Sounds like the crowd are hungry for fish today, Severinus." Spartacus did not take his eyes from his opponent.

"I shall not shed a tear for their disappointment."

XIX

"Know each other?" Nate asked, seeing Spartacus talk to his opponent.

"Gladiators normally, but not always, fight others from their own school," Publius said.

"School?"

"It is a training camp." Now that the fight had commenced, Lucius wanted to concentrate on it.

Spartacus circled faster than his opponent, using speed to outmanoeuvre the murmillone. He swirled the net above his head and quickly reached forward with it to ensnare the murmillone's sword arm. It worked. Spartacus tugged back hard on the net to pull his opponent off balance, but the murmillone had anticipated the move and planted his feet, leaning back against the tug of the net. Spartacus, his teeth gritted and eyes narrowed, strained against his heavier opponent, struggling to maintain balance. Both men pulled on the net, and the gap between them slowly narrowed. With his sword trapped, the murmillone could only defend with his shield against the quick, sharp attacks of the trident, which alternated randomly between high and low blows. The last strike of the trident hit the dirt, and the weapon remained there, pinning the murmillone's left foot to the ground with an agonising cry.

The murmillone reacted quickly, allowing himself to be pulled forward and onto Spartacus, causing the retiarii to fall heavily onto his back in a cloud of dust, the shield of the murmillone between them. The murmillone rammed his shield up and into his opponent's chin, the repeated thrusts drawing blood as he tried and failed to free his sword from the net.

Spartacus released his grip on the trident to grasp the top of his opponent's shield, doing his best to halt the damage being done to his jaw. He was in trouble, but not yet defeated.

Still on top, the murmillone kneed and kneed and kneed Spartacus in the groin, but none of the blows caused the crowd's champion to shudder. Pushing down on Spartacus to raise himself up, the murmillone repeatedly smashed his helmeted head down on the unprotected face of Spartacus. Spartacus frantically turned his head from side to side to avoid the blows, sometimes successful and other times not, trying to scramble backwards and away as he did. The attacks left bruises and blood on the crowd favourite's face, and he began to look dazed. The murmillone was unaffected, the padding on the inside of his helmet performing its role admirably.

The murmillone stopped his head butts to view his opponent. A momentary pause followed as each man looked into the other's eyes, trying to find a catalyst to break the stalemate.

XIX

"Hear that?"

"What?" Spartacus was straining against his heavier opponent.

"Nothing. Your supporters are quiet."

Spartacus relaxed his muscles.

Yes. Severinus recognised the change as the first sign of his victory.

XIX

"Come on, Spartacus." Scaevola bit his fingernails. His champion was struggling for life. There were few shouts coming from the crowd. Most were on the edge of their seats.

The murmillone pushed forward and down to smash his helmet once again into his opponent's face, intent on bashing his opponent's skull into pulp.

Relaxing his muscles had given Spartacus the opportunity he needed. He shifted his head to the left to avoid another blow from the helmet, and raised his right knee as high as he could to leverage the murmillone's momentum to throw the man over his shoulders.

"Urrrrgh." Severinus landed heavily on his back.

Although his head was injured from previous blows, his body was not, and with his speed Spartacus was marginally first to his feet. He had no weapon; his net was still wrapped around the murmillone's sword and his trident still lodged in the murmillone's foot. His only option was to crouch for both attack and defence.

Severinus stood, dropping his entrapped sword to bend and take up the trident. He quickly, painfully, yanked it from his foot.

"Ohh, that had to hurt." Lucius cringed and rubbed the top of his left foot with the sole of his right.

With a trident in one hand and his shield on the other, Severinus limped forward to take the attack to a still-agile Spartacus.

"Can he win without a weapon?" Scaevola asked.

"Shut up and watch," Nate said in English.

"What did he say?" Publius queried Scaevola.

"Shut up and watch." Publius' eyes narrowed. "Sorry. I did not mean for you to shut up and watch; it is what he said to me."

"Oh." Publius shut up to watch.

Limping, Severinus moved forward, determined to press his advantage against his more agile opponent. Spartacus moved back and with each step Severinus hobbled forward, each step keeping Spartacus just out of reach. Spartacus had moved back perhaps twenty paces before Severinus realised his error.

"He is moving him away from the sword," a balding man with a comb-over in front of Nate said, and he was right. Spartacus sprinted to his left, racing around the murmillone to run for the sword still entangled in the net; the murmillone unable to drag his wounded foot fast enough to prevent it. Severinus threw the trident, and as Spartacus slowed to reach for the blade, he was struck in his right hip.

"Oooohhhhh," exhaled the crowd at the injury to their champion. Spartacus stopped momentarily to drop the sword and pull the trident two handed from his hip, his face contorted in agony as he did.

"Oh, that had to hurt." Lucius rubbed his hip.

With his trident in his right hand, Spartacus bent to pick up the sword and limped away to give himself time to free the blade from the net. The net, once freed, he threw into the crowd. Spartacus now had two weapons for attack, and the fish man could only defend with his shield. The change in circumstance had rallied the crowd; their champion was again favoured to win, and their taunting of his opponent began anew.

"You are going to die, fish man," "There will be no thumbs up for you, fish head," and from Scaevola came "I can taste the fish pickle already."

XIX

"How the tables turn, my friend. I thought I had you, Spartacus."

"You know not to leave a weapon unguarded. Why did you do it?"

XIX

"Like to talk."

"He looks confident but strangely hesitates to finish," Lucius noticed.

"He draws out the finish to entertain," shouted the comb-over man.

The fight continued where it had started, with Spartacus probing with the trident in his right hand against the shield of the murmillone. The probes were randomly high and low until Spartacus went continually high, encouraging the murmillone to lift his shield higher and higher, each time exposing his torso and legs.

"He sets him up for the sword," Nate said in English.

"What did he say?" Publius asked, leaning towards Scaevola.

"Shut up and watch."

"Oh." Publius looked sideways at Nate.

Nate gave his smart-arse little mate a wry smile.

The murmillone raised his shield to deflect another high thrust from the trident, and Spartacus slashed his sword across his opponent's right thigh, cutting deep and wide before withdrawing back and to the left as quickly as his injured hip would allow. He needed to respect the shield.

Nate put a hand to his stomach, remembering the cut he had taken from Laurentius. Lucius too rubbed his stomach.

The murmillone could not give chase; the hole in his left foot and the gash to his right thigh made it difficult for him to stand, making manoeuvring for attack or defence near impossible. Despite the injury to his hip, Spartacus was healthy by comparison and keen to press his advantage home, and with a limping sprint he outflanked his opponent to commence an attack from behind.

The murmillone shuffled to his left, turning to defend with his shield, but too late. Spartacus drove the trident into the fish man's left buttock, pushing him off balance to fall on his side and on top of his shield. Severinus rolled onto his back. Spartacus, trident and sword still in hand, moved forward.

XIX

"Will you raise your arm?" The two had trained together for months. Severinus did not reply. I hate executing friends, but a few more friends, and Spartacus had the right to choose freedom.

"Remember our pact, Sparta. Remember our pact."

"DOWN, DOWN, DOWN," the fighters heard the crowd shout, not needing to see the arms held out with thumbs pointing down.

"Raise your arm, man, come on." Spartacus kept his head down as he tried to hide his encouragement from the crowd. He could wait no longer. The Charon would finish Severinus if he did not, and Spartacus knew that would not bode well for him. With the centre point of his trident starting to draw blood, Spartacus raised his head for the emperor's instructions.

With his weapons raised above his head to acknowledge his loyal supporters, lowering them only as he entered the tunnel that connected the amphitheatrum to Ludus Magnus, Spartacus left the arena through the Gates of Life.

Severinus did not.

XIX

After the last fight, Publius, Lucius, Scaevola and Nate made their way down the stairs and out to the street through the nearest vomitorium. Lucius was rambling incessantly, Scaevola was interjecting with flourishes, contradictions, and re-enactments of various fights, Publius kept his own thoughts, and Nate struggled to decide whether he was thrilled by the ancient carnage or repulsed by it, feeling a lot of both while looking discretely, and unsuccessfully, for his Vestal.

Nate's mind was doing back flips from the uncertainty of his emotions. He had enjoyed the rush of killing Laurentius less than a week before in self-defence, but death for entertainment was different. Forgetting his earlier realisation that his skills were insufficient to match even the most inexperienced fighter, he wondered whether he could become a gladiator to regain his freedom. She was looking intently at the faces of the gladiators. Testing himself in that way would be spine tingling, and it might get him the girl. But what a brutal way to find love.

"Will you be seeking Aelia's approval to become a gladiator, Nate?" Scaevola looked up at him with admiration.

"What?"

"You heard. Will you be asking Aelia for approval to become a gladiator?"

"No," Nate said with a finality he did not feel. But I may need to.

"But you could do it, and the best Gladiators get rich, rich and famous, and they get the girls."

"Get dead too." I want the girl, and I'll need money to give her the life she deserves.

"Nate, could I have a word with you, please...alone?" Publius asked. He directed Nate away from the others to stand beside one of the columns surrounding the amphitheatrum. Lucius knew why Publius sought privacy, and engaged Scaevola in conversation about the fights while glancing at Nate. "There is something I wish to discuss with you regarding Amanda, if you do not mind. Did you, that is to say, I saw you when you arrived, and as you, as she, and as you, were dressed in less than normal clothing, well, neither of you were wearing any clothing, and, as you know, I thought that as you would have..."

"Yes, Publius. We have sex."

"I see."

"Many times."

"I see. W...well perhaps, and first, let me say that I do not see you having sex with Amanda as a problem because it happened before I purchased her, and as friends you had every right to do as you please...so ..."

"Tie down."

"I beg your pardon."

"Tie down."

"Oh. You read my thoughts. You mean I should tie myself down for her to do as she pleases?"

"No. You tie her. Do not hurt."

"Oh. I should tie her down and that will not hurt her?"

"Tie her down. Never hurt. NEVER HURT. Be her master. Never hurt her. She enjoy!"

"I see. Are you sure? I would be happy for her to tie me down."

"You remember bed?"

"The one I first saw you on? With Amanda?"

Nate nodded.

"Yes, I remember."

"She was tied?"

"Well...yes. Yes, she was."

"She love it. LOVE...IT...THAT...WAY. You got rope?"

"Ummmm. Probably, I am not sure. Yes, actually...no, I am not sure."

"Gladiator said sponsor made leather. Near here."

"I remember that one of the gladiators said he was sponsored by Gordianus at the Ludus Magnus. Is that what you refer to?"

"Yes. Buy SOFT leather. Tie down SOFT leather."

"I should tie her down with soft leather thongs? Is that what you mean?"

"Yes."

"And then?"

Nate raised his eyebrows, and held his hands palms out. "Do you want. Be master. Expect she comply. Do not hurt and untie when end." I always forget to untie her.

"I see." Publius looked up at Nate thoughtfully and then started to scurry off.

"Wait." Publius stopped and Nate walked to him. "She like walk naked in public."

"I beg your pardon."

"She like walk naked in public. Give her confident."

"I see. That might explain why she was so reticent to wear the tunic I purchased for her in the forum. Thank you, Nate," although I am not sure that I want to display her in public. Publius walked off to the shadowed side of the amphitheatrum to purchase the leather bonds Nate had recommended, his head in a quandary about Amanda's exhibitionism.

Nate wandered back to the other two. "Were you able to help my brother?"

"And Gordianus," and Amanda. Nate's smile left Scaevola confused. Seeing lines of people queuing, Nate asked Lucius, "What they do?"

"They either wait to buy meat or gladiators' blood from the arena; the blood has excellent healing powers. It can help with other problems as well, falling sickness for example, and well...if you ever have problems with...you know...sexual vigour," he said quietly behind his hand, not wanting Scaevola to hear, "it can help with that too. Did you enjoy the contests, Nate? I found them exhilarating. The glory for the gladiators is inspiring. I wish I could do it. Will you be asking Aelia if you can train for the arena?"

Nate looked blankly at Lucius, pondering his future. He had already answered Scaevola, but what do I really want, what can I do, and what will I be allowed to do? I need to improve myself to marry my Vestal. She was definitely looking for a Gladiator. "Perhaps," was all he committed to, and wavered at that. Becoming a senator would be safer, but if she wants a gladiator....

A man with a lamb under his arm walked across Nate's path in the direction of the Forum. Those two were fortunate. Their eyes met fleetingly before Nate's thoughts flicked to the Spartacus in the arena and the rebel leader of history.

"Have heard name Spartacus. Who he?"

"You have heard of him? From Ohstrayla? Really?"

Nate nodded.

"Just another gladiator, a popular one, but just another gladiator," Lucius said with a wave of his hand.

XIX

"Are you to be my talisman, little one?" Varius scratched the lamb behind its ears, the innocent looking up at him with oversized brown eyes. A citizen in his early twenties, the third son of a once wealthy familia bankrupted by his profligate father, Varius now laboured and made deliveries for a bakehouse, supplementing his daily grind income with adrenalin-charged work in the amphitheatrum to hasten the purchase of an apartment with his beau. He looked up from the lamb to see Nate, a taller man, looking down on him. A slave by his tunic. If his owners are a good familia, he will never have need to risk his life to create one.

XIX

"Howth wthat bell wuf?"

"Do not speak with your mouth full, Anzo. It is bad manners," Aldegund chided.

Anzo swallowed his mouthful of tiger roll to start again. "How was that wife in the bell room? Fat arse, fat thighs, and full breasts with big nipples. And her husband only allowed one man at a time. That is much better than sharing a woman like we normally do."

"And the bell wives are free." Aldegund had enjoyed himself too.

"The prostitutes were not pleased though." Aub was better able to look past his base desires than the other two. "The adulterer took most of their trade."

"Are we due for another dinner with Gaius?" Anzo asked. Sex and food were his favourite topics.

"Yes. Two nights from now," Aub replied. "We should visit the slave market early tomorrow and get value for our money."

"Founths goob." Anzo had gravy running down his chin.

XIX

In the future it had been ten months since the four nuclear weapons had exploded. In Beijing, London, New York and Rome people were trickling back into their deserted cities, as they had in Hiroshima a century before. The difference for the people of the future was that their buildings had not been destroyed.

XIX

The cruelty of human nature has always been matched by its resilience.

# Chapter 20

# Milonia to Wed

##

## Ancient Rome - July 29, 40 CE

## The Future - May 19, 2046

Aelia had friends who had died at Pompeii under the ash of Mount Vesuvius. She had friends who had followed their husbands to postings in foreign lands. Now, she had only one friend both alive and in Rome: Milonia. They had met through Milonia's friendship with Aelia's deceased husband.

XX

Caligula's first wife preceded his rise to emperor. Junia Claudilla had been a senator's daughter and had passed away during childbirth, together with the child.

His second wife was his first as emperor: Livia Orestilla. Livia had been married less than a day to a tall and wealthy senator when Caligula decided she would make a fine empress. He forced Livia to annul her marriage and marry him, only to within days banish her from Rome under suspicion that she had returned to her first husband.

His third wife, Lollia Paulina, a daughter and wife of consuls, enjoyed the luxury of expensive jewellery. When her beauty came to his attention, Caligula again forced a divorce, with this union lasting six months. Infertility was given as the reason for marital failure. To ensure he could not be accused of impotency, the emperor forbade Lollia from sleeping with another man.

Not wanting to risk a fourth successive failure, Caligula sampled his fourth wife before committing to her. With three young daughters, all of whom had been despatched to live in the country, her fertility was proven and with Caligula her fourth child was on the way.

"Oh, Milonia. I am so sorry. When did he first insist upon your services? Does Otho know the baby is not his?" The two had been enjoying a wine after lunch at Aelia's villa, walking through her colonnaded garden, when Milonia revealed her divorce from Otho, her upcoming marriage to the emperor, and Caligula's responsibility for her latest pregnancy. As they walked, Aelia cast a disapproving eye towards the muscular black slave her friend kept in hand, she has him wear the smallest of loincloths, and looked again.

"He did not insist upon my services, Aelia. They were offered to him."

"Otho offered you to him? In return for payment? I would not have thought that of him."

"Otho did not offer me, Aelia."

"Your own father offered you? I have not met your father. Is this a play to improve his social standing?"

"My father did not offer me."

"Then...then who did?"

Milonia replied without words, her chin held high.

Aelia had only known Milonia since her marriage to Quintus, and despite the rumours that branded Milonia as wanton, Aelia had always found her new friend to be honourable and loyal. The stories of gossip-mongers had been too wild to be given credence. A woman who so obviously loves her daughters and the company of her husband could not possibly be unfaithful, could she? Although she recently sent her daughters away, and that big black may well prove the truth of the rumours.

"You offered yourself to him?"

"Who would not want to be empress? Come now, Aelia. You cannot be immune to the lure of a powerful man."

"I am not lured to him. His treatment of his women has been...less than ideal. Whilst his first marriage ended unfortunately, his second and third wives were treated with dishonour. What gives you cause to believe his behaviour towards you will be different?" Have I misjudged her character so poorly?

"They did not satisfy him as I do."

"What do you mean?" Surely not as it sounds.

"Oh, Aelia. Have you not noticed or heard of the large number of Greek prostitutes in Rome these days? Roman women have become so virtuous they are unwilling to satisfy their husbands. I have done, and will do, anything to satisfy my man."

"I had heard rumours of senators visiting the emperor's brothel. Are those stories true?" Aelia pushed a stray hair behind her ear.

"Of course. So many Roman women do little more than lie still while their husbands attempt to fulfil their manly needs. Dead fish are cold comfort in bed. Our men need more from us. There is nothing a courtesan can do for Gaius that I cannot, and if he has urges for others I shall be there to encourage him."

"Milonia! I have heard of some of the...well...less savoury practices these women engage in and...and the things they allow men to do. Men enter them in ways and in places no good Roman woman should allow," or allow it to be known. "Surely, you do not admit to..."

"As I said, Aelia, there is nothing those women can do for Gaius that I will not. In addition, I perform with enthusiasm." Milonia lifted her nose to the air to accept her cup to her lips. "He can fuck me any way he wants, and he will see and hear that I enjoy it."

Milonia! Aelia's head was spinning, her mouth agape. Enjoyable as it was, my adulterous sex was arranged to fulfil my husband's desire for children. Your base deeds are hedonistic! "How could you risk having relations with a man not your husband? The punishment is too vile to contemplate."

"Come now, Aelia. Are you telling me you have not done so? All women want another man in their life at some time, and only a few of us are brave enough to do so." Milonia sipped her wine, a fruity flavour, and looked down her nose to enjoy Aelia's reaction.

Aelia's heart pounded against her chest, she turned away, a hand going to her face. Surely she could not know of my transgressions. I have told no one, and I trust Pomponia to keep my confidence. At Porcia's estate she could be bold, daring and loose with men Porcia acquired for her. Regularly purchasing young men herself could lead to unfortunate gossip. Cloistered pleasures are nothing to be ashamed of, though discretion is a necessity where the little Leluuwahn man is concerned. Gigante; a more fitting name I could not conceive. His tongue is a revelation, and combined with his lips on my hairless crotch ... VENUS. She dare not tell even Pomponia of Gigante. And the hot, exotic beverage he calls coffee is equally so, though a hairdresser could labour for a day taming his deadlocks or bedlocks or whatever he names them, and his 'toke from the weed' after sex leaves a piquant aroma.

She adjusts her clothing and looks away. Has my frankness evoked the recall of an intimate moment?

"What do you mean?" You are careless, not brave, to flaunt your activities.

"Your new foreign slave, do not tell me he was purchased for reasons other than pleasure."

"He most certainly was not." Praise be to Jupiter that she does not know of my son's fathers. Aelia sighed with relief and turned to face Milonia.

Now it was Milonia's turn to look in disbelief. "Aelia, do you not trust me to keep your secret? I will speak of it to no one. I have three slaves for that purpose, as you must be aware," and she slapped her black man's bottom. "I like how this one does not flinch with pain. You are a hard one," she said looking up into dark smouldering eyes that looked down on her.

"I had heard the rumours and refused to believe them." Aelia grew breathless from Milonia's revelations and actions, struggling to keep her eyes from the black man. "Does Otho know?"

Milonia sat comfortably in a chair in the centre of the garden, enjoying her wine. The slave positioned himself within reach to Milonia's right. I knew you to be innocent, Aelia, but thought even you could not be this naive. Holding her wine in both hands, looking into the cup, Milonia decided to educate her friend.

"I married Otho because he was poor. He would not dare forbid me anything."

"Your father allowed you to marry a poor man?" Aelia sat in a chair facing Milonia.

"My mother and my mother's mother are strong women, as am I. We do not allow men to dictate our lives. We have been the ones to bring wealth to our marriages for generations. Wealth and business. Our men do as we say, and we do as we please. This slave pleases me very nicely. I love squeezing his black arse." She did so, and took a long drink to empty her cup. "I did not buy him for his conversational abilities."

"You re-marry for wealth then?" I shall ignore your last disturbing utterance. "I understood you had all the wealth you need. Be careful not to lose yourself in search of more."

"Wealth, no. But wealth and power - they are the ultimate aphrodisiac."

She moves her hand from the black's buttock to his testicles. My, but they are large, akin to Gigante's. Aelia crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together. "What business do you own? Have there been others? Other women's husbands, I mean."

"We own brothels, discretely of course. The men? Oh, yes. Some of them have been husbands. Many if the truth is known."

"Do I know any?" I am uncertain if I want that answered.

"Why did you buy the foreigner?" Milonia commenced tugging under her black's tunic.

She did not answer my question. "Because I do not want Aquilinus to mature with only females as role models. He needs a male influence. Nate will provide that influence in weaponry, oratory, and masculinity."

"Oratory? The man can barely speak our language. Surely you seek his oratory skills for yourself."

Aelia missed the last comment, her eyes rapidly moving in and away from Milonia's "milking" of the slave. Oh the ecstasy of the stretch to accommodate a man of that size.

"While what you say is true, I have instructed him to take Aquilinus to the Forum to listen to the orators and to the Senate to learn politics." Oh my. He drips on the floor. "I thought it better to have him listen and learn from the esteemed of Rome without interruption from his keeper. Nate will have insufficient knowledge to provide comment."

"A novel idea," if it works.

"Your next husband is not poor. He will expect you to be faithful, I should think." I must turn this conversation from myself.

"No more slaves and senators do you mean?" Milonia asked, sipping her wine and rhythmically stimulating her black. Aelia nodded. "Oh, no. Gaius enjoys my slave's company as much as I do. This one will be sold tomorrow, but there are others within the palace for me. I have also come to know the madam of the Imperial Brothel, Porcia. With her, I keep up to date with the latest practices."

"Practices?"

"Positions, oils, costumes. As I said, I want Gaius to fuck me any way he wants, and I shall suggest to him ways he has yet to imagine. Satisfy your man in the bedroom, Aelia, with more than he dreams possible, and he will do all within his means to please you. The means of an emperor are enormous."

As is your black. I had not thought a Roman woman could be so debauched.

"Here is your invitation."

"To what? Your wedding?" Aelia accepted the small piece of parchment Milonia held out, not opening it, preferring to slip it into a pocket of her tunic to read later.

"Not yet. That invitation will come from Agrippina. I am not sure she approves of me." Milonia looked towards her slave. "Perhaps she believes the marriage will not last; I neither know nor care. I will soon be the empress." Milonia returned her attention to Aelia, while continuing to pump her slave. "The invitation is for dinner at the palace with myself, Gaius, and selected senators I have enjoyed. Only a select few. The thought of dining with my husband and so many of my lovers arouses me immensely."

Your promiscuity outstrips anything I thought possible, though I must admit a desire to once again see the two young men who fathered my sons. A pity I cannot make that happen. And the size of this one!

"Does the emperor know of your past dealings with these men?"

"No. He has slept with many of their wives, though," Milonia replied with a grin.

"He has told you this?" This stream of news is more and more like the rumours I have heard of you.

"I have watched and shared in his pleasure."

I want no more. Aelia was near breathless at the revelation of such unprincipled behaviour. Seeing the black slave's knees begin to tremble, she needed a distraction and found one in the parchment in her pocket. It read, "Incitatus extends his hoof to invite you and your partner to dinner at the palace tonight."

"Incitatus?"

"He is Gaius' favourite horse, and I shall arrive at the dinner upon him. It will make for a glorious entrance, I am sure. Look at the size of him," she said pumping harder, now sitting on the edge of her chair and staring at the manhood before her. "I do so love bringing men to orgasm."

"You know I have no partner, Milonia." Do not watch.

"Come with your slave." She shamelessly watched hers surge into his tunic, pumping him for every drop and then leaned back in her chair. "That wine of yours is pleasing, Aelia." Milonia held out her cup.

XX

Nate sat quietly on a stool next to Aelia, trying not to be noticed, dreaming of seeing his Virgin within the palace while eyeing a Crystal Shield displayed high on a wall to his right, secured behind thick iron bars. That must belong to Sarai or Febreeze. I wonder which.

He was intrigued by the Shield's power to facilitate flight and stunned to learn how high Aelia's friendships reached within Rome. She was familiar with Titus, and now her friend is to become empress. I must stay close to her; political connections for a senator will be invaluable. Now I need freedom and money to win the hand of my Vestal.

With the woman pregnant, and Aelia fidgeting, Nate felt he had not heard the whole story regarding Milonia's marriage. More intriguing was the woman he had been introduced to before entering the dining hall: the mother of Caligula. Agrippina is the image of Jane. Gracefully dressed, her slave had explained Agrippina would not be attending dinner due to a temporary loss of speech through illness. She had marks on her face and seemed surprised to see me. That was curious.

Aelia was nervous. Rumours of the emperor's madness were growing, and so she had warned Nate to hold his tongue; "Caligula does not hesitate to kill those who displease him." There were a dozen men reclining on large lounge chairs, chatting amongst themselves at the table, leaving Aelia the only female present, with Milonia yet to arrive. Most of those reclining were handsome, and Aelia could not stop thinking that each had been promiscuous with her friend, possibly more than one at a time, if the rumours are true.

The sound of hooves on marble began to echo into the dining chamber, drawing the occupants attention to the arched entranceway where the tall, thin, balding form of Caligula led his horse and its naked rider into the room. Three unsavoury-looking and heavily armed men, one of them almost a giant, followed Incitatus and moved to a table in the far corner. A small boy and a child sized Leluuwahn woman entered last and stood inside the entry. The emperor led his horse to Aelia's end of the table, nearest to the door, to allow the mother of his unborn child to dismount onto it and stand proud in her pregnant state before all.

Nate looked down his nose at Milonia, and then turned his attention to the Leluuwahn. You must be Sarai.

"My friends," commenced Caligula. "May I present my wife-to-be, Milonia Caesonia. As you can see, she will be providing the empire with a new heir."

Naked and completely hairless from the neck down, Milonia commenced parading herself along the table, her excited nipples revealing her pleasure.

They do say all women secretly want to be strippers. Nate had read the history of this marriage before departing for the palace. Milonia was, is, a whore in all but name.

She went down on her haunches to pluck a grape from a bowl and placed it on the tongue of the nearest man. I can see you still want me, Rabirius. On all fours, she completed her parade to the end of the table.

Nate caught Aelia spying at the men's reactions, preening her hair while she looked out the corner of her eye. Perhaps Aelia's not so prim and proper after all.

"The three men who accompany us," Caligula continued, pointing to them, "are good friends of mine from my father's campaigns in Germania. We continue to share food as we did all those years ago. May I present Aub, Aldegund, and Anzo." The three men gave the Roman straight-armed salute.

Strange how he allows those three to remain armed, especially when the whip on that one's hip looks like the weapon of a villain. I've never seen anything like it, not even in the movies. The gloves must allow him to handle it.

On reaching the end of the table, Milonia stood and turned to walk back, her steps high and hip movement accentuated, sharing a smile with every ex-lover she passed. Caligula handed the reins of Incitatus to the boy who had been standing at the door, ensuring the emperor was free to assist his lady from the table. Once down, the pair entwined themselves and reclined on a lounge, exchanging lewd words until Milonia momentarily leant towards Aelia.

"I want them all to fantasise of me while they fuck their boring wives. It fills me with power to walk naked before so many men. You should try it, Aelia."

"You look well." Some things are better kept as dreams.

Resting in her fiancé's arms, her eyes scanned her ex-lovers for signs of their interest: eyes meeting, eyes caught reviewing her, and men adjusting their crotches. Milonia put a hand between her legs and enjoyed the sight of them all.

Hours of feasting and boasting of military and sexual conquests followed, and many of the last filled Milonia with fondness. Nate was absorbed and captivated by many of the conversations, until they turned to him.

"Milonia," Caligula said, placing an arm around to clutch a breast and pull her to him. "What is your friend's name again?"

"Aelia, my love."

"Aelia. Milonia tells me your slave is from a land we have not yet conquered. Is that true, slave?"

"Yes."

"She tells me your land is on the other side of the world. Is that also true?"

"Yes." Beneath the table, Nate wiped his palms on his tunic.

"No matter how far your land from Rome, I shall conquer it and rape your women until my testicles swell with overuse." There was laughter around the table. "I shall then allow my men, my senators, my generals, and my legionnaires to do likewise." The laughter continued.

"You are great conqueror, mighty Emperor?" Nate asked in his broken Italian. I'd like to piss on you, you scrawny, sunken-eyed piece of shit, Nate thought while doing his best to appear humble.

Fortunately for Nate, Caligula took it as a statement, not a question, the great conqueror having conquered nothing. You will conquer nothing, at least not in the history I have heard and read. Caligula stared at Nate and began stalking the room, staring his senators down and challenging them with his achievements.

"I have annexed Mauretania, instructed my good friend Herod Agrippa to cut the disloyalty of Flaccus from Egypt, and shall soon challenge Neptune himself in the expansion of MY Empire into Britannia. Ambition and expansion followed by consolidation; I shall bring it all to Rome. And what shall Rome bring to me, my senators? Will Rome bring me disloyalty, or will Rome bring me the passion I need to expand the deeds of the Greats who have come before me, the Greats of the Julian familia—MY familia. What say you, my senators?"

A chorus of nervous support rang out from Milonia's fawning ex-lovers. "We all support and admire you in your achievements, great Caesar," said the senator furthest from Caligula, the same little fat man who had introduced Caligula as a God at the amphitheatrum.

Has Milonia endured sex with that? Surely not. Aelia looked away.

"Shall I see my friend out, Gaius?" Milonia understood the need for delicacy.

"If it pleases you, my love."

"You should teach your slave more tact, Aelia. His tongue could be the death of you," Milonia warned as they passed the arch of the entryway.

"As could your choice of men, should his guards turn against him. It has happened before, Milonia."

Two unhappy women, but no Virgin at my side.

Milonia, comfortable in her skin, simply nodded in recognition, and returned to the hall to fan the flames of her current and past lovers. I hope he takes me in front of them all. To her disappointment, as she raced back into the feast, she found Gaius had dismissed their guests. The senators were walking out, sent packing by an emperor reminded of his shortcomings by a slave.

Caligula vented his frustrations on Milonia for the remainder of the night, bending her over and pounding her buttocks with angry thrusts while his three Germanic friends stood nearby.

"May we take him, Gaius?" Aub pointed to the boy who had walked back into the room, holding the reins of Incitatus. Sarai now sat naked on the horse.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, what? Uh, uh, uh, uh," Caligula asked as he chaffed Milonia's buttocks with his ire.

"The boy. May we take him?" Your woman is a whore.

"Yes. And...bring him back for...tomorrow night's meal."

Sarai was forced to watch the degradation of Milonia. The boy left willingly with the three men, pleased to know he would not be slain tonight by the madman on the horse, as his brother had been only days before. He would have felt otherwise had he known the menu for tomorrow night's meal.

Groaning as he finished with Milonia, Caligula wiped himself clean with her hair, stomped to another room to return sword in hand wearing gilded white armour. After urinating on the floor, he mounted Incitatus. Sarai was seated behind, holding his waist so as not to fall, and together they commenced another night of savagery combing the marble halls at the centre of the civilised world.

# Chapter 21

# Jane Starts Her Plans

##

## Ancient Rome - July 29, 40 CE

## The Future - June 13, 2046

How the fuck did Nate get here? Jane had done her best not to show recognition of him when Caligula had introduced her to Nate's mistress. Agrippina, the ailing woman whose role Jane was gradually assuming, would not have known Nate so neither could she.

Playing her part in the deception of Rome more and more as the days went by, Jane was aided in her mimicry by daily tuition, and unnecessarily motivated by physical punishment for poor progress; she craved to replace Agrippina. Speech, mannerisms, culinary likes and dislikes, familia history, Roman history, viewing important citizens from concealed locations and learning to walk in a stiff, upright manner were her tasks. She was not allowed to speak in public until the daughters of her mistress gave approval. Until then, the sham of pretending Agrippina's sickness sporadically affected her speech would continue.

Life as an imposter playing the mother of the emperor suited Jane, mostly. The bath oils, the pampering, her personal hairdresser—two hairdressers were required, one for the real Agrippina and one for Jane, with neither slave meeting the other so as not to expose the ruse—and the fine food all pleased her. But...

There is no chance of coffee in this fucking time, not even an 'instant'. And men; I hate the way I need them, though if I found one that cums coffee I'd suck his balls dry five times a day.

Regular requests to Agrippina for a partner were met with admonishments to remain chaste. Fucking prude. The less sex she got, the more she used the F word. Jane had never been chaste in her life, originally due to her mother's need for money, then her own pecuniary need, and later by a desire for pleasure and sway. Her time with her mother had forged an impenetrable heart.

She had discovered escape routes from the palace, but preferred a future within it. I shall one day grasp power for myself. Agrippina must die, whether by her ailment or my hands. The thought aroused her, as did her right hand. Either way, I need to tie her fool son too me with sex. When the feeble bitch dies I don't want him killing me in a moment of despair. Her left hand reached inside her tunic and pulled at her right nipple.

Gaius often rides his horse with the same naked little girl clinging to him from behind, struggling to keep her seat. Jane had learnt from Agrippina the girl was Leluuwahn, one of those Jane had seen in the sky on her first day in the past. Agrippina had explained the girl's sexual prowess, though Jane found the tales tall.

The clip clop of a horse had been going back and forth outside Jane's room for some time and the noise grew louder once more. He will continue on as usual, but Gaius in his dress regalia rode in to carefully lower his little girl to the marble floor. Opportunity knocks!

"She is ill, Mother. Tend to her." His sword dripping with blood, Gaius departed knowing he would not be refused.

The girl does look unwell. "What is your name?"

"Sarai," came the meek reply. "He told me you are his mother. Are you, yes?"

"Yes. Do you need rest?" Jane gestured the girl towards her bed. Sarai sat at its edge, her bare feet not touching the floor. Jane stood, paced the floor, hands on hips.

"Was he always so cruel?"

You're as pathetic as Amanda, though you could be useful if you're as skilled as Agrippina suggests. Jane stopped to brush Sarai's hair away from her face. One can always benefit from new techniques. "I hope he has not abused you. Has he touched you where you do not wish to be touched?"

Sarai spoke quietly to the floor, tears trickling down her cheeks. "He has hurt me only once, and I am not sure if it was intended. Porcia says that to stay safe, I am to do anything he asks. He has asked little of me."

I have no need of your tears. Jane, towering over her prey, flicked one tear away. He has asked little of her? Asked little of a female whose skills in the bedroom are renowned to be superior to all other women? This creature, superior to me? I think not. Perhaps he's gay. I hope not; that would stifle my ambitions. Or does he have feelings for her? I think the latter. And who is this Porcia?

"You must miss your family." Go slowly with the girl. Jane drummed her fingers on the top of Sarai's head.

"I miss everyone. I miss my parents. I miss my siblings. I miss my friends Febreeze and Glade, yes. Ones as cruel as your son killed my Febreeze. The killer and his two friends were here tonight. They are friends of your son, yes. When they look at me, I shiver. My hope is for Glade to rescue me. I see him sometimes above this place."

Such an innocent. She's telling a woman she thinks is the mother of her captor that a potential saviour is near. The three she refers to must be the men who raped me, I have seen them here too. Their time will come. Jane lifted Sarai's chin and considered her eyes. "I do so hope he releases you soon. Could I make your living space within the palace more comfortable? Where do you reside? With Porcia?"

"I live in one of Porcia's many rooms. Other girls live there too, human girls. Porcia requires them to have intercourse with men for money, yes. I have become friends with some of the girls and do not like it when I see them being used in unkindly or unusual ways, some very unusual. Some girls enjoy the men, others do not, no. Porcia says I am only to go with your son. Can you ask him to be kind to me?"

Using a firm thumb, Jane wiped tears from Sarai's cheeks. Tears may work on men, not on me, you woeful creature. So Porcia is the madam of a brothel within the palace. The sounds of approaching hooves interrupted Jane's questioning. That was quick.

"Is she well enough to ride, Mother?"

"She is not able to ride, though she could walk. Would you mind if she does not ride with you again this night, my son?"

"Is this true, Sarai?" Gaius leant close, hanging on her reply.

He shows concern for the little girl. I was right. He cares for her.

"I can walk." I do not wish to ride, no.

"Do not walk home naked, Sarai. Here, please take my tunic." Jane removed hers, and pulled it over Sarai's head. "Can you find your way to your bed?"

"Yes. I think so." Sarai departed, her head down and feet dragging.

While you might look like mother, and your simulation of her speech and mannerisms improves, I know you are not she. Mother is far too virtuous to stand naked before me. Gaius looked at Jane like he would look at any other woman, down his nose, focused on her body. She is lean of frame and full of breast, and his thoughts began to press through his tunic.

He likes what he sees. "May I speak with you, great Caesar?"

Gaius lifted his sunken eyes to her face. "That will depend on the question." He raised his sword to draw a figure eight of blood on it.

If Jane hadn't witnessed the love and respect this man had shown his mother, she might have retreated from his implied threat. Instead, she felt calm knowing he would bring no harm to his mother's plans.

"Sarai. She is pretty, and your mother informs me her talents are highly desired. Sarai tells me you are kind to her. The girl is fond of you."

"She is?" Hope softened his face. He raised a hand to hold his chin, assessing Jane, and pondering his feelings towards Sarai.

Jane sat on the edge of her bed, leaning back on her left arm with her legs crossed, and threw her hair away from her chest. "Sarai wonders why you have asked little of her. She worries that she does not excite you. Does she?"

The bulge in his tunic grew. Is that for me, or the thought of Sarai? I will make it mine. She slowly recrossed her legs around her left hand. Men love watching female acts of self-pleasure.

With his hand still holding his chin, Caligula's thoughtful expression changed, growing harder while his bulge softened at the sight of her rhythmic hand. "Are you trying to seduce me, Mother?"

Stay calm. "I am thinking only of the girl." Do not look at him, allow him opportunity to ogle. She looked to the side, and pushed out her chest with a deep breath. I never fail at seduction. Sitting up straight, she cupped her left breast, lifting it to allow it to fall with a bounce. She spread her legs wide and then closed them around her right hand and caught him watching her out of the corner of her eye. You're the same as every man. Jane increased her activity.

"I seek only her welfare," Jane lied and looked directly into his eyes.

His face and crotch both hardened at the sight of her busy hand. Gaius was struggling with competing emotions: outrage at the attempted seduction by his mother's imposter, and a desire for the seduction to continue. He resolved the situation by riding away.

Perhaps I was wrong. Jane lay back on her bed and continued to please herself. I didn't expect that. Although he will not harm me, Agrippina might. Fuck. If she discovers my attempted seduction, and only Gaius could tell her of it, perhaps she will have me killed. Jane knew Agrippina's capabilities, and needed to be careful not to expose her plans to a woman as willing as she to tidy loose ends. If Gaius doesn't tell his mother, then perhaps he will tell his sisters. I've had less contact with those three. What would they do?

Jane closed her eyes, and thought of Nate. He looked as good tonight as he tasted that first night in Sydney. She enjoyed the memory of his firmness at the bar and enthusiasm in the motel room, and longed for the times in the back of her station wagon when she used him as people walked by on the street. He was so...

A pair of strong hands grabbed her ankles, lifting them high and spreading them wide before clutching her thighs to pull her buttocks to the edge of the bed. The hands belonged to a naked Gaius, mad as hell and boned up to the max, although his maximum was a bare minimum for Jane. Already excited from her hand and her memories, Jane quickly accommodated his violent thrusts.

His boner is the size of a pencil.

With her knees pressed against her shoulders, his hands gripped her hips tightly to hold her against him. After minutes of pounding, Jane's crotch was finding the going tough, and her breasts pained from bouncing in unison to his plunging.

He has the panache of a presto metronome. Change his mood. Jane smiled and moved her hands onto his. "Gaius...Gaius... Would you join me in a wine?"

This wine is as dry as the ugly boy's technique. The break gained Jane only a momentary respite; he quickly returned to his poor performance. With no other option, Jane allowed him to do as he pleased, and used the time to flesh out her plans.

Agrippina's death requires nothing but time. Her failing health will clear my path to becoming this boy's mother. However, that process may need assistance at some stage—anxiety and strong emotions over her son's actions always increase the difficulty of her breathing—but for the moment I need do no more than continue with my lessons and wait for her death. I'll also need to endure more of these uncomfortable sessions to tie him to me. You're fucking hopeless my son.

There is a more challenging problem. Gaius is erratic and capricious, pissing people off while he pisses everywhere. He could be deposed. I need an exit strategy. A wealthy husband to protect me, initially, but that will need to wait until Agrippina's death. Perhaps I should befriend one of the three daughters and marry her to someone powerful, using the friendship with the daughter and her powerful husband for protection? Possible. From the little I have seen only one appears sufficiently malleable for the task: the youngest, Julia Livilla. The other two daughters I need removed from Rome. Her current chafing gave her inspiration. Incest! The sick bastard wants to do more than come to mummy, so perhaps he will do more with his sisters.

Through Sarai and the brothel, I can spread rumours of relations between Gaius and two of his sisters. That might work. Then suggest to him that his sisters be exiled to douse the scandalous flames. "Oh, Gaius." A little false ecstasy always helps.

If Leluuwahn females have amazing sexual prowess, surely the males would need similar abilities to please them. That would be interesting. I'll ask Sarai. If I help her with Gaius, the girl may confide in me. Perhaps this Porcia woman, the brothel madam, would know?

Gaius shuddered and collapsed on top of her. Yuck. He covers me in his sweat. Sex is a wet business. Despite his climax, his muscles remained tense from the conflict of emotions Jane suspected was raging within him. She ran her fingers through his hair to place a stray lock behind his ear, then brushed his cheek with her thumb; both acts she knew to be the want of Agrippina.

"Mummy loves you, Gaius."

Immediately she felt his tension drain away until he completely softened, his pencil slipping from her as he became a dead weight upon her. Jane wrapped her legs tightly around him, wriggled into a more comfortable position, hugged him tightly in what she assumed to be a mother's comforting embrace and petted his head as she imagined a good mother would.

"Mummy will always love you," and mummy will get what she wants.

# Chapter 22

# Nate, Wax, and Scented Soap

##

## Ancient Rome - July 30, 40 CE

## The Future - July 8, 2046

My balls are getting hairy and shaving makes them itchy. "Lucius?"

"Yes, Nate." They were in the forum, close to dinner time. Nate, Lucius and Amanda were waiting for Publius to arrive. Amanda was in a pink transparent gown she had purchased from Sellia Epyre, a Forum merchant. Because he was to dine with Lucius, Nate had permission from Aelia to attend.

"Can get waxed?"

"Waxed?"

"Waxed." Nate pantomimed ripping wax from his balls with an "ouch" for effect. "Waxed!"

"Ooohhhhhhhhh. Waxed! I see. You can have it performed at some of the larger baths. There are beauticians at the Forum and brothels near the Circus and the Ludus and the markets and..." and, and, and, and, and—Lucius went on to give a full account of every barber, brothel, and public bath in Rome that offered waxing, while pointing out that he had never visited a brothel himself. Nate believed him.

"No. Not need bath or brothels. Will get you formula for wax." He planned to search for a formula on the net.

"Interesting...but what are you expecting me to do with your formula?"

"Market."

"Market? Sell your idea at the markets, you mean?" Lucius looked unconvinced.

"No. Find wax. Make better. Sell to baths. We make coin. Better than shave. Much smoother. Last longer. We make coin." Nate had seen men being waxed in the baths that he and Lucius attended, and had concluded that the wax Sarah used was superior to the Romans brand.

Cleaning himself with oil and a strigil, or using only soap made from animal fat held no attraction to Nate either. He planned to use the same research method as the wax to discover a formula for soap i.e. stealing it from the net, and asked Lucius for assistance with that too.

"I see. You want me to source and market your soap?"

"Yes. Thank you, Lucius." This may be my first step on a path to the wealth I need.

"Now may I ask a favour of you?"

"Of course."

"I am happy for Publius in how he has found Amanda. I would like what he has, not Amanda, but a woman just like her. I believe there was another woman on the bed?"

"Ahh...yes but she not woman you want marry. Too old," Nate added seeing the question on his friend's face. "For child you need young woman." I wonder where Jane is. That woman at the palace was her photocopy.

"Publius has advised me to frequent the slave markets. I shall try there, though I have done so before without success."

Business for Lucius was slow, and slower for Publius. The prospect of a military campaign in Judea was their focus, and they prepared for it by organising supply chains, although nothing could be finalised. Vespasian, the father of Prefect Titus, was favoured to lead the campaign, but with Caligula as emperor, they felt anything was possible.

"Nate, why do Publi and Lucius keep mentioning Judea?" Although Amanda had learned little Italian, the word Judea sounded similar in Italian and English.

"There may be an army going to Judea to quell a Jewish revolt. The Jews are rebelling because Caligula boasts he's a god, and placed statues of himself in their synagogues. The Jews say theirs is the only god. Sound familiar?"

"Theirs, and the Christians, our God is the only true God. Could I go with Publi? To Judea?"

"I'm pretty sure Publius isn't going to Judea, Amanda. His aim is to win a contract to supply the legions with grain. Lucius wants to supply them with wine. Why do you want to go?" As if I need ask.

"It's the Holy Land, Nate. Jesus may be there."

"It's possible, but unlikely." The timing for Jesus is wrong, but the timing on everything is wrong here. They do know of Christ but not of the cross. Nate looked at Amanda's necklace. It would be good to know if He really had existed, or does exist, and whether He really was something special. The Bible sounds like a beat up to me. Funny, I don't know why but I feel drawn to Judea.

XXII

Good. He knows the merchants who will supply the Roman legions, and deep down he knows he will travel to Judea, yes.

Thunk!...thunk thunk thunk.

Buzzeere quickly ascended to a higher altitude. In concentrating on his mission, he had flown within range of Roman archers.

One more step and he will be ready for Our Lord. For his military connections, Sos says we may need more patience, yes.

XXII

Nate saw the archers and looked up for their target.

Silver Hair. Was he watching me again? Nate tingled as he watched the Leluuwahn fly north. Titus knew of Christ, Scaevola says the Leluuwahn see themselves as servants of God, and now I feel drawn to Judea.

Lucius saw Nate in thought. "It is only a Leluuwahn. They are no more than a nuisance, easily scared away by our archers."

Yes, but my tingling tells me that one has reason to be more persistent than most, and I suspect I'm that reason.

# Chapter 23

# Scaevola's Sex Education

##

## Ancient Rome - July 31, 40 CE

## The Future - August 27, 2046

"Scaevola, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," lied the fourteen-year-old in English. "Do not wear bulla. See?" He pointed to his chest. A boy can do a lot more if people think he is a man.

"What's a bulla?"

"Locket boy wears round neck, like gold one Aquilinus wear. He not man yet like me. He not sixteen." A bulla contained protective amulets in the shape of male genitalia.

"You look small for sixteen. Strange how Roman boys become men at sixteen and yet can't enrol in the legions until they're eighteen. How did you get into the legions?"

"Want be part. Want go places, do things, so hung round, attach to them."

Yes. Exactly as you did with me. Very clever.

It was in the early morning hours before daybreak, over a week since he had landed in ancient Rome, when Nate was woken by the gyrations of his little Roman mate in the bed they were required to share.

"How long have you been having wet dreams?"

"What?" Does he know what happened?

"You were just dreaming about a woman, weren't you?"

"Maybe...how know you?"

"It's not 'how know you,' it's 'how do you know,' and I guessed it because you were saying, 'Ohhh Marcellina.' You were wriggling around calling for her and woke up with your hands between your legs. Is it the same Marcellina I know?"

"Could be."

"Sounds like it is. I'll ask again: How long have you been having wet dreams?" I may need to give him a birds-and-bees talk.

"What mean wet dreams?" You do not need to know what I want to do with Marcellina.

"The gooey stuff you sprayed all over your loincloth. That's a wet dream. It happens when boys dream about having sex with girls. It's normal, but I can't say I'm too keen on sharing a bed with you while you're doing it. Have you had a girl yet?"

"Maybe."

"So you haven't."

"Might have. You not know."

"Bullshit. You obviously haven't." Nate hopped out of bed to sit on a stool in a corner of their room. I may need to give him a sex talk, but I don't need to be in bed with him when I do it. "Go to the bathroom and tidy yourself up, and when you get back, we'll talk." Aelia had appointed Nate as big brother to Aquilinus, and felt he was Scaevola's too. As neither boy has a father around, someone needs to educate them. Nate tapped his foot as he waited for Scaevola's return.

Scaevola avoided Nate's eyes when he slipped back into bed.

"What do you know about women? About sex, I mean."

"You pinch and smack bottom to make happy. Paulus and Longinus do that."

You're the second Italian, Roman, to tell me that. "Do you know how women become pregnant?"

"Pregnant?"

"With baby." Nate held his hands out over his stomach in the shape of a pregnant woman. "How much do you know about sex?"

"Oh. Pregnant. I seen men do it. Hire women. Naked. Stick this in." He pointed to his fresh loincloth.

"So which hole do you enter to make a woman pregnant?"

"Mouth. Swallow to here," he pointed to his stomach, "then woman get big," and he made the same outline of a large stomach Nate had.

"No, that isn't it."

"It must be," Scaevola said, reverting to Italian. "People who eat too much get fat, so it makes sense that if a woman eats too much of a man's gooey stuff, she will get fat with a baby. I have seen Paulus try to convince loads of women to suck on him, but they never wanted to. It has to be because they do not want to become pregnant."

"No." Nate grinned, and stayed with English. "That's not bad logic, but it's not correct. If a woman doesn't want a man in her mouth, it's because she doesn't like the taste of the gooey stuff. But even if she does like the taste," Nate's mind went to Pomponia, "she can drink it until it's coming out her ears, and she still won't get pregnant. You have to stick your thing in her pussy, you know, the hole at the front," he said, pointing to his crotch.

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure. So now you know how they get there, how do you think a baby gets out?"

"Wait a moment. So a man has a baby in him, in his testicles, but it doesn't grow until it spurts into a woman? Is that correct?"

"Not quite." At least he's thinking. "A man has what's called sperm."

"Sperm?"

"Little wriggly things that make the gooey stuff gooey." At least I think that's what makes it gooey. Semen come into it somehow, but I don't know the difference, if any, between semen and sperm.

Scaevola had woken quite a few times to find himself pumping out the gooey stuff, and he had never seen any wriggly things in it. Nate might be playing a trick on me.

"You can't see the little wriggly things in the gooey stuff, but they're there," Nate said, responding to the question on Scaevola's face.

"How do you know that?"

"Because you can see them under a microscope, and..."

"What is a micraskape?"

Shit. How did I get from sex to microscopes? This might be harder than I thought. "It's a couple of pieces of glass you look through to make things appear larger." When Scaevola started to interrupt, Nate raised his voice. "AND I AM NOT TALKING ANY MORE ABOUT MICROSCOPES. This is about SEX, Scaevola."

Scaevola shut up.

Now, where was I? That's right. "The little wriggly things that make your gooey stuff gooey wriggle their way into the woman to fertilise her eggs."

"Eggs? You mean like a chicken?"

"Not like a chicken. They're very small and have no shell, and you can only see them under a microscope."

"That does not make sense, Nate."

"Which part?"

"The part about needing a micraskape to make babies."

"You do not need a micraskape—a MICROSCOPE—to make babies."

"Then why are you telling me about them?"

"Forget the microscope. You have to put your gooey stuff up inside the woman's front hole to make babies. Understand?"

"I think so."

"Excuse me, but I do not understand half of what you two are talking about with that gibberish you use, Nate, and I do not care to understand, so will you both please be quiet. I am trying to sleep," said a skinny and barely clad Marcia from their doorway. She disappeared as quickly as she had appeared.

"Keep your voice down," Nate said to Scaevola. Crusty, not enough curves, but I could ...

"It was you, not me."

"Well, let's both keep our voices down. Now, do you know which hole a baby is delivered through?"

"Well, I once saw a woman lying on her back with her legs up. I was told to get away from the tent, and then I heard a baby crying. So from the position she was in, I would say the baby came out the woman's bottom."

"Did you see it after it came out?"

"Yes."

"Was it covered in shit?"

"No."

"Then it didn't come out her bottom, did it? Babies are born through a woman's front hole, not her back hole."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am."

"Have you seen it happen?"

"No."

"Then how do you know they do not come out a woman's bottom?"

"Because they bloody well don't." Shit, this is frustrating.

"But some women's bottoms are pretty big, so there must be far more room for the baby to come out their bottom than their front?"

"Would you like a baby to come out your bottom?"

"No, and I would not want a baby to come out my phallus either."

Nate sighed. Now I know why Dad handed me a book and told me to read it. Sex talks are difficult. I've got it. Thanks Dad. Nate retrieved his phone from under the bed, searched the net for some porn, and said, "Here...watch this." That has to be better than a book, and he sat in his chair and waited for questions.

Scaevola's eyes almost popped out. "What is this?"

"It's a man and a woman making a baby, you idiot."

"I know that. I have seen that happening before, but what are they in—the thing they are inside—and how did they get in there? Is this the light I have seen sometimes at night? I did not want to ask before. I thought you might be involved with the underworld."

"Keep your voice down." Nate poked his head out the door to see if Marcia was returning. Convinced that she wasn't, he sat and watched Scaevola look over the phone. Showing him the phone probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had. It's done now though. Sharing the same room and the same bed, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

"You know how I told you where I came from?"

"You mean from a woman's front or a woman's bottom." Whack. Nate clipped him across the ears.

"Listen, dickhead, nobody likes a smart arse." He did not like the name, but Bart's terminology was effective in getting attention. "Where I come from is not only a long distance from here, but it's also a long way into the future. About two thousand years into the future."

Scaevola stared at him.

"I can't tell you how I got here, because I don't know myself."

Scaevola was still not speaking, only staring.

"And I can't get back, or at least I don't know how to get back. Not only that, time seems to be..."

"What do these things do, and why do you have three of them?"

The kid's got a good memory. Nate took a deep breath and for the next hour showed Scaevola how to use the phone, search the net, take photos and films, download music, and set up accounts on a variety of social networking sites. Scaevola was hooked by the music, and every time he turned up the volume, Nate turned it back down.

All this talk of phones had Nate thinking about Jane's phone. He hadn't used it for a while and wondered if it would still be connected. Nate had earlier arranged for Bart to pay his and Amanda's accounts. He sent Bart a text to add Jane's phone to his account. I'm not sure if that will work, but it can't hurt to ask.

Nate impressed on Scaevola the need for secrecy regarding the phones. If talking to each other, they would always make use of a micro earpiece. If discovered, the phones might be stolen or confiscated. Scaevola agreed. "I will keep mine secret, Nate. Do not worry about that."

"Yours? What do you mean yours?"

"Well, you have three of them, and if you do not give one to me, I will tell someone, and then you will have none."

"Clever little shit, aren't you?" Nate pulled the other two phones out from under the bed. One was unresponsive. That must be Jane's. The other did, and he set the fingerprint reader for Scaevola.

"I changed the language to Italian for you."

"I cannot read."

"Then how did you follow everything I told you?"

"I looked at the hieroglyphs you pointed to."

Hieroglyphs? I guess icons are hieroglyphs. The future relabelled the past to make it new. Now that he knew Scaevola could not read, Nate showed the boy how to hover his finger over the symbol and have the phone talk to him. It was normally a feature for the blind, an electronic version of Braille. Now he has the phone, if he needs more information on sex he can always search the net. I think I did OK with that sex talk.

"What are you going to do with the other one?"

"Leave it under the bed."

"I know a better place to hide it, with someone you could trust with your life."

"Not those two dickheads you were in the legions with?"

"Paulus and Longinus? No. We should give it to Glade. Remember, I told you of him the first night you were here, and we saw him above the amphitheatrum?"

"Glade the flyer?"

"Yes, the Leluuwahn. When we go camping with Aquilinus, if Glade is there, I will introduce you to him. I have known him for years; I have visited the Lost and flown with Glade since I was little."

"The Lost? Who are they? And you mean you have been up in the air with them?"

"Not with the Lost, with Glade. It was great fun, but I am too big now. He can only take small children flying. He is the only Leluuwahn to do it."

"Who are the Lost?"

"They were babies thrown out by their parents because they had some kind of defect and have since grown up."

"How do babies manage to grow up without someone to look after them?"

Scaevola shrugged. "You will like Glade."

Remembering the story of Glade witnessing the death of a friend and his struggle to rescue a girl called Sarai, Nate felt a growing determination to right a wrong.

# Chapter 24

# Enticing

##

## Ancient Rome - August 6, 40 CE

## The Future - June 23, 2047

As requested by Aelia, Nate had been taking Aquilinus to listen to the orators at the Forum and to the Senate to listen to the debates and speeches, with Scaevola tagging along. Nate found both arenas interesting, and today listening to Epictetus in the Forum was as interesting as any day.

"To a reasonable creature, that alone is insupportable which is unreasonable, but everything that is reasonable may be supportable."

"Practise yourself, for heaven's sake, in little things; and then proceed to greater."

"No great thing is created suddenly."

At some time that saying must have been transformed into, 'Rome wasn't built in a day,' Nate thought.

There was also Egnatius, whose argument, whilst containing some logic, would not last long in history.

Egnatius argued that Jews, and the growing sect called Christians, should be crucified, and won acceptance from many who listened.

"Religion should first and foremost promote unity and loyalty to the state. If it does not, then its existence cannot be justified. As the Jews and Christians promote the belief that there is only one true God, and as this is not in line with Roman customs, the Jews and Christians should be treated with distrust. Untrustworthy people should not be allowed to spread disunity and should therefore not be tolerated. The people should make examples of them by nailing them to crosses at each entry to Rome. Doing so would show how superstitions die while Rome lives."

Nice speech, Egnatius, you prick. But you got that wrong.

"Nate." Today was their fourth trip to the Forum, and Aquilinus and Scaevola were bored. "I need to do a wee wee."

Nate was holding his five-year-old brother's hand. "Scaevola. I took last time. You turn."

"You are the big brother, not me."

"Want me tell Marcellina about dreams?"

"You would not...would you?" Nate smiled. He would. "Come on, Aquilinus, there is a privy over here."

"But I want Nate to take me."

"Can't always get what want." Being the oldest of the three, Nate could. He wanted to stay and listen to the orators. Pliny the Younger, standing near a merchant who was selling flowers from a cart, announced himself to the world to give a series of one-liners, not funny but philosophical.

"Keep your wits as ready as your sword." When it came to ancient Rome and the amphitheatrum, Nate saw the truth in Pliny's words.

"They come to see and be seen." Pliny waved a hand over the Forum crowd. Looking around, Nate understood. Wealthy Romans would review jewellery and slaves in clothes made of the finest materials, some needing far more material than others, as they gorged themselves on juicy amphitheatrum rolls or fresh fruit. Romans wanted other Romans to know of their ability to afford the finest.

And then the red and white ribbons of a Vestal caught Nate's eye, streaming and eddying behind a woman the image of Sarah. Could it be? She was moving away. She has Sarah's bottom. Nate craned his neck. Her ribbons, twined through the Vestal's long dark hair and tied to her wrists, reached out to touch Nate's heart. So feminine ... a goddess ... I could watch her hips sway for all time. On the Vestal's right were two scandalously clad females in translucent neck to ankle gowns, one dark skinned, one fair, both unnoticed by Nate. A white ribbon broke free from the goddess' hair and sailed into the sky. It danced to the left, twirled to the right, all the while snaking towards an open-mouthed Nate who ... closer, a little closer ... reached out ... almost, a bit more ... he stretched ... Yes! ... to steal it from heaven.

Silk. Nate stroked it with his thumbs. So soft. When he looked up, his goddess was eyeing him. Hazel eyes, not Sarah's, but ... their equal. Nate fell into the Vestal's eyes as he often had with Sarah's. She's full of life, a garden bursting into spring. Shit. She's walking towards me. His heart skipped a beat. What do I say? He straightened, widened his stance, and took a deep breath.

He is impossibly handsome. That unruly hair, square jaw, and defiant stance ... and those muscles ... is he ... he is! My barbarian. Venus Julia ... keep your head. "I see you have rescued my ribbon." Julia swallowed hard. "I thank you." Her heart racing, and face flushed, she held out a shaking hand for the ribbon and stopped breathing.

"Good morning. It yours?" Play it cool. Don't be over eager. Don't return her ribbon yet.

Breathe! His voice is so deep and exotic. Julia ran her shaking hand through her hair. "Yes," squeaked from her mouth. "Uh hmm." Help me, Venus. "Yes. Thank you for recovering it."

"My name Nate. Yours?"

"I am Julia." Tell him no more. Your name may scare him off. "From your enticing colouring," I said enticing, "you are from Germania are you not?"

Enticing? Nate could not hold back a smile.

His smile holds no vanity, and his teeth are clean and straight.

"No, I from Australia."

"Ohstrayla? I have not heard of that land."

She enjoys playing with her hair. "It long travel from here."

XXIV

"Do you see what I see?" fair skinned Hornia asked.

"I do. She has old-world innocence. He, from his tunic and colouring, is obviously a slave, a savage from the north, yet she shows him interest, in public no less. This cannot be allowed to progress." Boobia's lips pressed into a thin line.

I have his colour, and I am no savage. "Should we rescue her?"

"No. I will speak with her upon her return."

XXIV

"That lady does not need to eat that." Aquilinus, having run back to Nate to hold his hand, pointed towards a corpulent woman with a roast beef roll frozen on the lips of her open mouth. Gravy began to drip down the woman's hands as she stared at Nate, her eyes burning, face red, and second chin wobbling.

"No be rude, Aqua. You say sorry lady."

"But Nate..."

"You say sorry."

Aqua looked at the woman with doleful eyes. "Sorry lady."

"Good boy." Nate scuffed Aqua's hair and then looked to the lady himself. "I apology." The woman stormed off, throwing her roll to the wind.

"I am hungry, Nate. Can we get something to eat?"

"I am hungry too." Scaevola had also returned.

"Please?" The two gave Nate a questioning look. "When ask for something, should say please."

"Why?" Aqua shrugged his shoulders.

"Because good manners. Good manners cost not. Everyone use good manners, it make world nice place." Nate returned his attention to Julia. "Sorry for delay. Here you ribbon." She doesn't need to see me arguing with my brothers. Their fingers touched, causing Nate to tingle all over. She's as soft as her ribbon. If only I could keep both.

"Thank you, Nate." A warm hand, and he cares for the boys in teaching them manners. "My ribbons are so light they take flight like a swift on the breeze." I could fly to you.

Nate laughed.

That was not funny, Nate. Scaevola's brow knitted.

"And who are these two?"

"I am Aquilinus, Nate's brother. Nate is a great fighter. He killed a legion champion." Aqua looked up to Nate with a wide smile.

"I know. I was close by on that day." He holds his little brothers' hand to keep him safe. Perhaps he is not the barbarian he appears. Julia twirled a strand of hair through her fingers.

Nate shuffled his feet.

Scaevola grimaced. This cannot end well. "I am Nate's interpreter."

"His name Scaevola." Nate stared at Scaevola with a strained smile. Shut up and piss off.

"Nice to meet you, boys. And what is your native tongue, Nate."

"English, it..."

"It is the tongue of Britannia. I learned it when I was a boy." Stop talking to her, Nate.

"Here coin. Go buy meat roll." Nate took a fistful of coin from his pocket and held it out for Scaevola. Food in your mouth should stop you from talking.

"I will eat later." For now, I need to keep you from trouble. If they flog you to death, I will be returned to the legions.

Perhaps I could find a tutor to instruct me in his language, or perhaps Nate could teach me himself. "I would like to know your tongue," OH VENUS, that did not come out well. He may think me loose. "Perhaps we could..."

"We need to return home, Nate." I am NOT going back to the legions. Scaevola took hold of Nate's coin filled hand to pull him away.

Nate did not budge. She wants to know my tongue? I don't think she meant that, but...

"I should not keep you. Perhaps we could meet again ... another day?" Leave. You have embarrassed yourself enough for one day. Julia looked away, bit her lip, and with her head lowered scanned Nate from the corners of her eyes.

"I come often. I love talk again."

He said love. Does he mean it? Does Venus advance me in his eyes?

I must improve my speech or she'll think me an idiot.

Julia turned to slip away, her ribbons trailing, Nate captivated by the rhythm of her hips, and her re-entwining of the ribbon through her hair.

I held that ribbon. If only she would let me hold her.

"Stop making eyes at her, Nate. Do you not remember what I told you? Men who love Vestals have their lives ended by flogging." Scaevola watched as Nate ran to a flower merchant, purchased violets, sprinted to gift them to Julia, then stand, watch and listen as she strolled away with her friends. He did not listen to a word I said.

"I am hungry, Nate. Can we get something to eat?"

"Here, take coin." Nate opened his fist of coins, indifferent to who took them. Aqua ran off to purchase a small hippo roll for himself and a large giraffe roll for Nate, both with gravy.

"What about me?" At least he only looks at her now, not talking to her.

"What?"

"What about coin for me?"

"I gave all to you."

Scaevola's mouth hung open. Idiot! He shook his head, looked around to find Aqua, then loped off to buy food.

She dresses with modesty, nothing like the tennis club women. Could those two be her friends? Nate only now noticed the women accompanying Julia, both dressed in transparent tunics. That's a nice black arse, not as nice as Julia's, but great bum wobble. He looked up to see the fair skinned friend looking over her shoulder at him. She's beautiful too. Intelligent tawny eyes framed by cascading auburn hair, but she looks like a tennis club lady.

Julia waves! and so did her fair skinned friend. Nate waved to Julia, giving her friend a polite nod. His mind only returned to his brothers when his goddess and her friends were beyond sight and earshot. He had heard only part of their conversation, and that part steeled his resolve to rise from slavery.

XXIV

"You know he is a slave, do you not? You did see the emblem on his tunic? He will never amount to a man who could ask for your hand."

"Do not be too hard on her, Boobia. I can see why she admires him." Hornia looked over her shoulder at Nate. He smiles ... but ... now gives me a look of disfavour. Does he dislike something he sees? Hornia looked down and straightened her gown. He can see all that is me through this gown; other men enjoy my figure.

"A slave? Does that matter?" Such a lovely perfume. With her nose in the flowers Nate gave her, Julia glanced over her shoulder towards him. He still admires me! Should I wave? She did. He returns my wave! Can I tame him?

"Oh Julia." Boobia placed an arm through one of Julia's to turn her friend's attention from the calamity waiting to happen. "He is below your social class, and will never have the status or wealth to maintain your familia's good name." Boobia looked to Hornia for support.

"Boobia is probably correct," but go with your heart, Julia.

"Probably? I am unquestionably correct."

"But I want a man who loves me, not one who sees me as a trophy, a man whose wealth buys a highborn woman to use her status to raise his."

"Prestige and status are everything in Rome, Julia." Boobia petted Julia's arm.

"Does money really matter? I have never needed to concern myself with it."

"You have never needed to concern yourself with it because yours is the familia that rules Rome; they must have vaults overflowing with gold. Once not to hand, you will notice wealth's absence."

Leave her to dream, Boobia. I wish I could find a man who looks at me as he did her, buys me flowers and waves. What is wrong with me?

She still smells those flowers. "If you marry for love you will need to bear his children." Boobia, a courtesan in the imperial brothel, knew Julia's trepidation for sex. She had seen the looks of disquiet when, on more than one occasion, Julia had witnessed her plying her trade.

Julia stopped, staring into space, children? "Perhaps pleasant company and engaging conversation will satisfy him. Our connection could blossom in the glow of true friendship." Julia held the violets to her nose then against her heart.

"No. Good company and conversation will not satiate male thirsts."

Do not give her that look of disdain, Boobia. Every girl is silly when they first fall in love.

"I wish I could be like you two; irresistible, beautiful, funny, and sexy." Julia looked to Hornia. "I wish I could be all the things I am not."

"Oh Julia. I wish I were you." Hornia hugged Julia close. "Why do we all wish to be someone we are not?"

XXIV

The three brothers strolled through the Forum, consuming their rolls, Nate not heeding the orators until he noticed a gathering of women, a deep male voice cutting through their soft female chatter.

"Nothing is sweeter than love; all delicious things are second to it."

Interesting. Nate wiped gravy from his chin with the back of his hand, wiped his hand on his tunic and moved closer. "We listen for while."

Scaevola frowned before he noticed teenage girls around the speaker.

Aquilinus put his hands on his hips. "But I do not want to love girls. They are sissy and weak. They are no good at playing with swords either."

"One day you want play with girls with different type sword, and you want these lines."

"Nate is right, Aquilinus." I could use them on Marcellina.

Aquilinus stood beside his brothers and huffed. He only knew one style of sword, the gladius used by gladiators. "What other types of swords are there, Nate?"

Before Nate could answer, Scaevola did. "The type between your legs."

"Can you use that as a sword?"

"Yes, can."

Aquilinus grabbed his willy, pretending to use it in battle. "But its reach is not long enough to stick into anything."

"It long enough when get older. Girls like men who use well. Now shut up. Listen to him." Nate pointed to the man.

"He who loves the world with his entire body may be entrusted with all."

"When you love, love deeply, and be courageous within it."

The gathering was growing and leaning into the warm words of the speaker. The two older brothers were impressed with the man's results, while the youngest still handled his sword, paying no heed to the orator's sagacity.

"Be sincere and tender in all that you do."

"Love conquers all things. Let us surrender to it."

Would Julia surrender to me?

"Be a confidant, be a friend, and an attentive lover, and you shall be a partner that your partner loves with all their heart."

Holy shit. Tallest in the crowd, able to see over the heads of the women, Nate spotted Publius and Amanda examining pots in a tent covered stall on the far side of the speaker. He's allowing her to shop naked? Amanda wore only her red heels and cross. Not even covered by one of those gowns? Nate shuffled the boys away from the forum to the senate.

At the senate, with Aquilinus on his shoulders, Nate listened long to men in purple-fringed togas. Aquilinus yawned, knocked his knuckles on the top of Nate's head and whined, "Can we go home, Nate?"

"Yes. I tire of listening to these bags of hot air too." Scaevola stomped on a bug.

The curtain had fallen on a day of love and philosophy. Nate had heard Cicero for the first time. He desperately wanted to remain to listen to the famous man, but knew there would be other days. They set off for home, Scaevola entertaining himself as boys often did; dragging a stick behind him. Aqua, with his arms around Nate's neck, his face resting on top of Nate's head, tried and failed to keep his eyes open. Nate held Aqua's legs, while dreaming of Julia, imagining the day when his status would allow him to ask for Julia's hand in marriage.

As the weeks went by, he saw more of Julia in the forum, though each time her scantily clad friends seemed intent on keeping the starry eyed, improbable lovers, apart. At the senate, regardless of the debate of the day, it was Cicero whom Nate most admired. Cicero's bio said he lived around 300 BC. He shouldn't be in Caligula's Rome. No matter. There are so many discrepancies in the timeline of this world that Cicero is simply another.

"While there's life there's hope."

"The shifts of fortune test the reliability of friends." I must stay in contact with Bart.

"He removes the greatest ornament of friendship, who takes away from it respect."

"Our span of life is brief, but it is long enough to live well and honestly."

I must do good things. If only I had his wisdom. However, the hypocrisy of one of Cicero's musings strummed a discordant note in Nate's gut.

"Servitude is the worst of all evils, to be resisted not only by war but even by death."

He is correct, and probably owns slaves. How can I rise from slavery to the Senate to hold my goddess? It was Cicero who gave Nate inspiration.

"A mind without instruction can no more bear fruit than can a field, however fertile, without cultivation."

I need Cicero as my mentor, a plan to engage him, and a plan to impress him with my intellect. He must see me as more than a stargazing slave. Quotes; I need quotes of my own, or at least ones he hasn't heard, though his mentoring will be no cure-all. To catch Julia, I need to speak like a Roman.

XXIV

Publi kept his head down in the forum. Was he embarrassed by my nudity? I loved it; so many warm male eyes on my body. In addition to a small pot decorated with the classical straight line and right angle motifs of Greek art, Amanda had convinced Publius to purchase three translucent gowns, one each in honey, pink and purple. Wearing the honey, she twirled around her bedroom before her bug-eyed master. His face is flushed. Amanda smiled, allowing him to see her eyes linger on his crotch.

It is hard to believe this beautiful woman seeks my attention. Publius sat on the edge of Amanda's bed, beside her pink and purple gowns, towelling his clammy hands on his tunic. Can I, a man of less than fortunate appearance, continue to pique her interest? I must, but with her public exhibitionism could I take her for my wife? Scandal has consequences, although notoriety can attract custom. Neither should matter if I love her, and she me.

Amanda encouraged Publius to his feet, lifted his tunic over his head, and bound his arms to his torso with leather straps. Down you go, my pudgy little master. She nudged him in the back for him to lay face down on her bed. Spank ... squeeze.

She is wicked. For this, I shall pay the price of scandal and reap the rewards of notoriety.

I love how my confidence has blossomed in this Rome. Spank ... squeeze. I could never do this in Sydney. A pity his bottom is not as handsome or toned as Nate's. SPANK. Nate. SQUEEZE. I want to do this to Nate, or him to me. God forgive me for my thoughts. I doubt Nate would tolerate this. Amanda rolled her master onto his back, he's ready, straddled him, closed her eyes, and with the round-armed motion of a jockey slapped Publius' thigh as her hips commenced the rhythm of love.

Her spanking me arouses us both. How wrong Nate was to suggest I should dominate her. Perhaps he has never known her intimately, a mere braggart. Regardless, it is me she wants now. Publius looked to Amanda's face, her bouncing breasts of little interest, considering the colour of the thoughts that lay behind her shuttered eyes. Does she summon dark thoughts of dominance and bondage, or of colour and light and me?

"Stroke, stroke, stroke ...

She slaps my thigh like a charioteer encouraging a steed. Whip me, Amanda; I am your heroic white stallion! Publius pushed harder.

"He enjoys it. God forgive me ..."

Her speech has urgency. If only I knew her language.

"Oh, NATE!"

Oh, no.

Oh, God. Wrong name. "OHHH, PUBLI."

Oh well. I own her body; to win a heart you must give your own. She likes pots; I shall buy the most colourful in Rome ...... if she approves.

# Chapter 25

# The Potion

##

## Ancient Rome - August 21, 40 CE

## The Future - July 12, 2049

"This is not working for me. The tiles are too hard on my back." Pomponia looked up at Nate as she lay in the warm water of the shallow pool of the villa's atrium.

Nate withdrew, patiently waiting for her to find another position, doggy again, is there no other way? and re-entered once her statue of Priapus was in place. Unlike Amanda's guilt riddled outcries, Nate found Pomponia's outbursts filled with more grumbles than groans.

"No, this is not working either. It is too hard on my knees."

And you think this is working for me? Every Tuesday, by Nate's phone, Aelia would go to the Forum for a few hours in the morning, occasionally with Milonia, allowing Pomponia to dispatch all other members of the household on errands to give her time with her man. One week he would receive an eye-crossing blow job, and the next he was required to perform something he could only achieve by flicking through images of Sarah, and Amanda, and imaginings of Marcia. He never used Julia, wanting to keep her special. Pomponia had threatened to sell him to serve as an oarsman on a warship if he did not perform. Today he was using Marcia in Amanda's pink translucent gown. Not as curvaceous as Sarah, but she looked inviting in her barely there nightclothes and crusty personality. Once through the crust I think she'd be soft. I'd like to ...

"Nate. NATE!"

"Marcia?"

"Why are you thinking of her?" Bastard.

Oh shit.

"We need to change position once more."

OK, OK. I'm moving. This would be a lot easier if you were a silk purse not a sow's ear.

How rude, him thinking of her while with me. I can fix that. It was not the first time Pomponia had heard another woman's name cross the lips of a lover. I need him not her. Pomponia stood and hugged the statue of Janus that held centre place in the pool.

Priapus, with his comically enlarged erection and a finger protruding from his back, you fulfil me. I need Nate to want me. She reached around to slap the side of Nate's bottom, having found in the past that it helped to arouse him as Porcia said it would. If only he....

Whack! I can spank you too.

"Yes." He knows what I want. I enjoy bossing him around, but when we make love I want him to control me.

She likes it rough, does she?

"I have wanted this from the moment I saw you, Nate. Give it to me hard and do not dare hold back; I might be skinny but I will not break."

So you want it hard, do you? The slapping of his crotch against her buttocks grew louder with every thrust.

He goes so fast I think he loses control. I love it when I drive a man wild.

Between Pomponia's demands to be dominated, and the noise of their exertions, neither heard the return of their mistress and her entourage.

"NATE. What are you doing? How dare you defile my home in such a way? And who is...POMPONIA! Has he forced himself upon you?"

"You are a naughty girl, Pomponia." Milonia held a wide, lascivious grin.

Oh shit. Don't open your eyes until this all melts away.

Pomponia had the presence of mind to release the statue of Janus and reach between her legs to hold Nate by his balls, preventing him from moving away. "No, mistress," Pomponia answered, her breathing heavy.

"You are doing this willingly?" How fortunate I left Aquilinus with his uncle Titus.

"Yes, mistress." Do not move, boy. Nate had attempted to withdraw, and Pomponia dug her fingernails in to prevent it.

Marcellina, holding an imitation pair of Amanda's shoes, was unable to hide her giggling behind them. Marcia and Aelia had faces full of disapproval while Fulvia looked ready to jump into the pool to receive her share of the action. It was cool-headed Milonia who took control of the situation.

"You three, go to your chores."

Marcia moved with haste while Fulvia and Marcellina smiled and glanced over their shoulders as they walked slowly away.

"Come, Aelia. We should leave them alone." Milonia took her friend by the elbow and led her to the garden courtyard. "How lucky Pomponia is to enjoy him."

Nate stood with Pomponia, unable to move with her fingernails controlling him. When they were again alone she released him, and slapped him hard on the thigh. "Finish me."

"It better if Aelia knock." Thank Christ Aqua wasn't with them.

"You shall call her mistress, and why should she knock? It is her villa, not ours. Now finish me, boy. They know it is happening so get on with it. Pound me."

Nate closed his eyes again, determined to ride Sarah until Pomponia was finished with him.

I now have an excuse to sell that Marcia, and the other one. Aelia will understand that I should not have to endure their disapproving looks and giggling. A pity I cannot sell Fulvia.

XXV

"Did you see what Pomponia was doing?" Milonia asked. "What a vixen! I would never have thought it of her."

"She is not the first woman to have sex with a man. I hope I am not being too immodest to say I have used the same position myself."

"With Priapus?"

"Priapus?"

"Priapus. The small statue of the god with the HUGE erection."

"I know who Priapus is, but what has he to do with Pomponia?"

"Did you not see him between her legs?"

"Surely not. How could she fit both Nate and Priapus inside her?"

"They were not sharing the same location."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh Aelia! You are such an innocent. Come." Milonia led Aelia back to the atrium, towards the sound of increasing exertions, and placed a finger against her lips.

Pomponia's groans and the noise of slapping flesh once again masked the sounds of Milonia and Aelia's entry. With Pomponia's head behind Janus, and with Nate's eyes closed to ride Sarah, neither of them noticed their voyeurs. Milonia led Aelia to the side of the pool and had her kneel to look up at the slave's union, pointing out Nate's location and that of Priapus. Aelia, not ready to accept what she had seen, crawled around behind the two to view the entanglement from another angle.

Pomponia waxes. As Porcia says, it does give the most tantalising sense of eroticism to always be conscious of one's crotch.

Pomponia released her loudest groan of the day. It echoed around the atrium, allowing Nate to untie his mind from Sarah.

"Wonderful body." Milonia admired Nate's toned and tanned torso as she stood ogling him.

Nate opened his eyes to see lust in Milonia's, and then glimpsed Aelia on her knees behind him, staring up between his legs. It's the tennis club all over again.

"We need to tidy up quickly." Pomponia had noticed neither woman.

"Yes, you should." Aelia was still on her knees. "Both of you dress and come to the garden. I would like to speak with you." Pomponia's poise snapped as she released a huge sigh that was not from her afterglow.

"You do not need a tunic," Milonia instructed Nate, reaching out to squeeze his bum and give it a smack. "Come as you are."

"Milonia!"

"He is yours, Aelia. Enjoy the sight of him. He does not own his body; you do. Any privacy he may seek for it is yours to give, not his to defend. I certainly enjoy the sight of him, but if you wish him clothed, well...that choice is yours." She smacked his bum hard.

Adulterous bitch, Nate thought. Why marry if you aren't going to be faithful.

"Very well. You may enjoy the sight of him. I shall avert my eyes." Aelia managed it with her nose in the air.

XXV

"You look well, Pomponia." Now clothed, Pomponia had walked into the garden with Nate following at a distance. "If I did not know better, I would swear you look younger and your breasts fuller than I have ever seen them before."

Aelia looked at the woman who had nursed her through childhood and began to recognise Milonia's point. "Yes, you do look very healthy, Pomponia. Have you changed your diet?"

"It is the sex she has with this boy, I suspect." Milonia circled him, a wine in one hand and his body in the other. She gave him a few tugs as she sipped her drink and admired his response. "He is as woody as this wine."

"Milonia, please show restraint."

"Believe me, Aelia, I am. My thoughts are running far faster than my hands."

You're a whore and I should know. Nate looked ahead at nothing.

"Then show more than you are, please." Aelia turned to Pomponia for answers, and from the corner of her eye noticed Milonia still had not released Nate. So brazen. "Have your problems not resurfaced with your...activities?" She nodded towards Nate.

"Problems? And what might they be? I love knowing other people's business."

"They have not, Mistress." I would love to kill that Milonia.

"Then you are not often with Nate?"

"Often? I would spend every day with him if he were mine." Milonia moved to fondle his package from behind. "Very responsive." Unlike Gaius when he returns from his mother. She has become a countermeasure for his cravings. A pity the woman no longer hastens towards death.

Pomponia rolled her eyes to and then away from Milonia. "Only once per week, Mistress."

"Is it always the same as today?" As Pomponia's mistress, Aelia had every right to ask and expect answers to any question.

"No, Mistress."

"Very good, Pomponia." Milonia moved to run a hand over Nate's defined abdomen. "Using a spice too often in the same way dulls your taste for it."

"What else do you do with him?" Initially Aelia had been shocked, then concerned, and now glad that her old nanny's problems with men might be behind her. Nate stood still, hoping no questions would come his way.

"As you know, Mistress, I have never been able to have normal intercourse with a man without the subsequent problem it creates."

She has avoided the question, thought Milonia. "What else do you do with him and what is your problem?"

"She has a constant need to urinate after intercourse."

"How terrible." Milonia put a hand to her mouth. "You poor thing. That would certainly dull a woman's desire for men. You say it does not happen with this one though?"

Pomponia spoke only to Aelia. "I give him oral pleasure one week, and he gives me anal pleasure the next. In the past, the latter has led to problems, though with Nate it has yet to occur, encouraging me to introduce Priapus. Even with Priapus I have had no problems."

So that explains why she only ever wants me kinky.

"I see. Do you have any idea why sex with your mistress' slave causes you no problems?"

"It is certainly curious. Perhaps, as he is from another world, his ejaculate contains something different."

The antibots! It has to be the antibots.

"Whatever it is, Gaius could use some. He urinates everywhere, in the halls, at dinner, in our bedrooms, and the constant need to do so makes him not only contentious but aromatic. I am sure it is why he kills so many slaves, an expensive habit."

"Do you think the benefit comes from the oral or anal sex?"

"Gaius would accept neither even if it did fix his problem." Milonia shook her head and smacked Nate's bottom. Nice and firm.

"While I am not sure, I think it is the oral, Mistress. Sometimes after the anal I have the slightest of problems, while after the oral there is nothing. Yes, it must be the oral that provides the benefit."

"Do you mean in the past you have had problems after performing oral sex?" Milonia questioned.

"Not from the man. When I give oral sex, I normally..." how embarrassing, "I normally pleasure myself."

"I see," Aelia said.

"Have we not all?" Milonia mused, running a finger up Nate's manhood.

Show some restraint, Milonia. And oral sex, Pomponia. I have never performed it though Gigante does so expertly. Aelia crossed her legs tightly.

Nate knew each antibot lasted around thirty days, programmed to leave the body via fluids after twenty-one days. When Pomponia drinks them, they must be cleansing her. "May speak, Mistress?"

"The body has a tongue. Can you use it for things other than speaking?" Milonia sipped her wine and licked the cup's edge. Yes. Deliciously woody.

Nate turned to her, slid his tongue out as far as it would go, and the three women appreciated its length before he curled up its end, slid it back in, and mentally thanked Didi for the extension. "May speak, Mistress?"

Milonia and Pomponia were a little flustered at the possibilities of his tongue, Aelia less so. Impressive, though no competition for Gigante. "You may, and keep that where it belongs." No son of mine would use that for...that!

"Can make potion for Gaius."

"You will call the emperor EMPEROR, slave, or next time I will crush your balls rather than massage them."

"You will need to compensate me if you do, Milonia." Yes, you can tap your fingers on the cup, just keep them to yourself.

Compensate you? What about my balls. "Can make potion for Emperor, Mistress."

"How is the potion made, slave?"

"No will tell."

"You will tell me, or I will have you killed. Do you understand?"

"Milonia. He is my slave and not yours, so you cannot legally do that. Again, at the very least you would have to compensate me for my loss."

How caring of you, Mistress.

"Can fix Emperor. I dead, no fix Emperor." I'm on dangerous ground, but it's a buzz to push that bitch around.

Milonia gave him a hard stare before calming herself to a measured, level tone. "You will provide what your emperor needs, or you will be thrown to the lions for my entertainment. Your body would be a loss and more so your tongue, but I will not tolerate insolence. Do you understand, slave?" She slapped his bottom with all her strength. That stung my hand. "And yes, Aelia. I will compensate you."

Ignoring his smarting buttock and still looking at Aelia, Nate repeated his argument. "As lion shit no can fix Emperor. Emperor go mad. Guards kill Emperor, guards kill family of dead Emperor." He looked at Milonia. "Alive, I can fix Emperor." Nate was using his knowledge of the downfall of Caligula to push his point home. I hope the tart has the intellect to grasp the possibilities.

Milonia had discussed with the real Agrippina the possibility of such an event, given Gaius' unpredictable behaviour. The Praetorian Guard had assassinated previous emperors who acted outside the best interests of the citizens, and the two women had been certain the guard would repeat their deeds if they saw the need. Finding a way to moderate her husband's behaviour would be Milonia's best shield from assassination.

"You are not a slave in your land, are you, slave?" Milonia raised his now limp penis with her middle finger.

"Name is Nate. Use it." I'm sick of you fondling me. You look like shit, act like shit, you aren't my mistress, and you aren't paying me so fuck off, bitch. Sorry, mum.

"Nate! Speak with more respect to your betters."

"No better, Mistress. More powerful. Respect must earn."

The four went quiet, Milonia chewing on his proposition. "Prepare the potion, you insolent slave and be warned; if it does not work, you will die in pain. Do you understand?"

"Use name. Say please." Nate locked eyes with her, returning her gaze until she looked away.

Aelia sucked in her top lip to quell a smile. Clothed, he would make a mother proud.

Give her all the cheek you can muster, boy. Pomponia looked into his blue eyes steeled with determination. Just do not turn yourself into lion shit ... you are mine.

I want you dead, but right now I need to at least try your potion to protect my new life. "Could you PLEASE prepare the potion, NATE?" I am close to hoping your potion does not work so I can watch you eaten alive. Perhaps I could have you dropped into a small cage with a large lion in my bedroom to view the feast up close while I have sex. The deaths in the amphitheatrum are often far too distant to savour the fear in their eyes.

"Can go make potion, Mistress, please?"

"Yes, you may." Jupiter but he has backbone.

Nate raced out of the garden, threw a tunic on, and made straight for Publius' house, where he knew he could find beer. Amanda poured some into one of the multitude of pots at her disposal...

"Nice to see you with some clothes on, Amanda," even if it's only a scarf.

...and then he raced back to Aelia's to stand in his bedroom and piss in it. One day I'll ask Amanda why she collects so many colourful pots.

"Emperor drink that. Can make more." He handed the medication to Milonia. She did not thank him.

"Manners. Say thank you."

She stared at him, did not thank him, and walked out. Aelia viewed him with admiration, while Pomponia clapped her hands; so often she had wanted to speak to Milonia as Nate had done.

Milonia returned the next morning. "Nate. I have come to ask if you could provide more of your potion for the emperor...please."

"Yes. May go make, Mistress?"

I pulled it off, Nate thought as he walked to Amanda's for more beer. I brought the Empress of Rome to heel by getting the Emperor of Rome to drink my piss, and he wants more. Who would have thought? Amazing it worked so quickly.

Milonia departed with more potion, leaving Nate standing with the two other women in the garden.

"Nate, I have a half-sister who has begun to suffer as I have done in the past."

Before Pomponia had a chance to ask, Nate answered, "Of course. Give you some later." Maybe she will cut me some slack and not sell me.

"It would be good for Porcia to overcome her problems." Aelia felt sympathy for the perpetual pounding the prostitute's pussy persevered.

"I did not know you knew my sister, Mistress."

Aelia did not reply.

Porcia? I wonder if it's the same Porcia Scaevola said was helping Glade. "Porcia work in palace?"

"Yes. You know of her?" Pomponia asked, intrigued.

"Little birdie told me." Somewhat true; Scaevola has flown with the Leluuwahn.

With experimentation Nate perfected his potion, adding some honey to improve the taste and finding the ideal ratio of urine to beer to ensure a workable potency. It failed once, and for a few hours he thought he was destined to finish the day in the amphitheatrum. Word of his potion spread, and demand for it outgrew his bladder's capability. He enrolled Amanda and gave her a percentage; she did not tell Publius.

Nate had found in Lucius a resourceful and well-connected business partner for wax and soap. Lucius knew many merchants and had been quick to source unrefined wax, processors, and distributors. They had difficulty keeping up with demand due to the Roman desire for hairless bodies.

The soap was not as immediately successful as the potion and wax. Nate undertook further research and discovered a method to make it foam. The foaming soap, infused with honey, made the difference. With three products on the market, all sold from retailers in the forum and the little shop in Aelia's entry where Scaevola earned a percentage of sales, the lad from Gosford was starting to make serious coin in ancient Rome.

I'm closing in on the man I need to be for Julia. I now have connections and wealth. Only my freedom is outstanding.

For the sake of his skin, there was no charge to Caligula. For the sake of Scaevola's friend Glade, he charged Porcia only half the rate he charged others, in the hope of one day using it as leverage for Sarai's rescue. Both recipients felt indebted to him, each expressing their gratitude with a simple promise of, "Anything I can do, I will."

He banked the cash from his products in an account at the Forum, and banked the promises of favours for a day he would need them.

XXV

She is very attractive. I could understand if he wants her and not me.

With their business connection and friendship, Nate often took Amanda to lunch in the forum. He never noticed Julia watching them, not seeing her in the forum for months.

He may see her as a more achievable mate.

# Chapter 26

# Glade and the Lost

##

## Ancient Rome - August 25, 40 CE

## The future - January 28, 2050

Pphhhrrrrrrrrrrtttttttttt phrt phrt phhrrrrrttttt, Nate and Aquilinus heard as they stole into Aelia's bedroom. They were about to inform her they were going camping as requested, not intending to tell her of the Lost. Scaevola was unsure a high-born woman like Aelia would appreciate her son visiting such people. Not knowing they were present until it was too late, because Aqua had insisted on sneaking up on his mamma, Aelia blushed.

"It is OK, Nate. Mamma does that all the time." Aqua enjoyed using Nate's foreign words.

"I no think you mamma like you tell me that, Aqua."

"No, it is OK, Nate. You know how you, me, and Scaevola have farting competitions in bed? Well I told Mamma about it, and I had one with her yesterday and Mamma won. She won easily."

"Oh Venus." Aelia shook her head from behind her hands. Pomponia, who had seen the two sneaking into the bedroom, had performed some sneaking herself to be standing directly behind them, looking down her nose.

"Mamma does heaps, especially when Fulvia cooks cauliflower and eggs."

"Ssssshhhhh," Nate said with a finger to his lips. "May go camping, Mistress?"

"Yes you may." And please leave my bedroom with haste.

"At least honesty is a good character trait for the boy," Pomponia said to her mistress once the others had gone.

"As is discretion."

XXVI

"Nate. The boys at school say girls do not have a pee pee. Is that right?"

"Yes." How far is he going to take his? I struggled with the sex talk with Scaevola and don't need another so soon.

"Then how can they pee on a tree like us?" Nate, Scaevola and Aqua were doing just that.

"They no can. Must sit and pee on ground or in pot."

"Why?"

"It basic female design fault, but fault has uses," Nate said. Scaevola smiled.

"What uses?"

I need to think before I open my mouth. Nate finished and gave his mate three shakes before restoring him to his loincloth for safe-keeping. A change of subject is needed.

"We attack far shore of creek. Pretend we kill many bad guys."

"Yahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Aquilinus yelled as he charged across the shallow creek with the exuberance of youth, brandishing his wooden sword and spear to slash and skewer enemies in a daring and audacious attack to save Rome from barbarians.

"Take that, you barbarian bastards, you sons of dog droppings, you suckers of cocks. EAT MY SHIT AND DIE, YOU SHEEP SHAGGERS. YAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Scaevola shouted as he killed imaginary men in an otherwise peaceful creek. Nate and Scaevola carried metal short swords and wooden spears that Nate had purchased at the Ludus.

Where in hell did that come from? It must have been those legionnaires he hung out with. If Aqua repeats any of that in front of Aelia....

It was a glorious day. The sun was shining, the birds singing, and great deeds of notable valour that would be heralded throughout time were being accomplished in a brown, dry, hot countryside that needed some rain. "What more could a big brother want?"

It was the start of the third day of what they planned to be a week-long adventure, the three brothers intending to camp under the stars and meet with the Lost, perhaps even see Glade if they were lucky. Scaevola, who knew the way, led the expedition between battles. After walking across the creek, Nate squatted behind a tree to do what he had wanted to earlier, the presence of his brothers having stopped him. The Leluuwahn, time travelling, and servants of God. If I meet Glade, I need to ask him a few questions. The first...His thoughts were interrupted by a deep, wary voice.

"Greetings, Scaevola. Why do you bring the Roman?"

"Greetings, Vibianus."

From hiding places all around sprung a dozen men and boys, all brandishing long wooden spears. Nate felt an idiot for being so unobservant, and for being caught with his pants down. The men worried Aquilinus enough for him to run and stand beside his biggest brother, wooden sword and spear in his left hand, his right hand clutching Nate's left.

"I was hoping to see you," Scaevola continued. "The Roman is my friend, and he is not Roman. He is from Ohstrayla and his name is Nate. He is not here to spy on you, and he is not here to harm you. We only carry weapons to protect ourselves from animals." Scaevola had informed Nate there was a possibility of encountering cave lions in their travels. "May we stay a few nights? We have our own food."

"We trust you, Scaevola, and so we shall trust your friend, though you are responsible for his conduct while among us." Grey-streaked Vibianus and his friends looked sideways at Nate, who was still squatting, not yet finished his business. They had seen Scaevola and his travel companions approach, and to them Nate's build was imposing and without apparent defect. Experience told them that people such as Nate would look upon them with disfavour.

"The boy?"

"He is like a little brother to us. He is the son of Nate's mistress."

"The man is a slave?"

"Yes." That put the Lost at ease. As a slave, Nate was expected to possess the same love for Rome as them: none.

Finished, Nate tidied himself with a leaf he plucked from a nearby plant, stood up, and adjusted his tunic. Aqua had not let go of his left hand.

"You should not have used that, Nate."

"Use what?" Nate scratched his arse. Is that their body odour I smell? Phew. I don't think it was me.

"That plant you used. It is called itch leaf. Your bum is going to be itchy for days," Scaevola said and laughed. Many of the Lost laughed at Nate's expense too. It broke the residual tension.

"Come. We shall hunt together and then escort you to our camp."

Aquilinus enjoyed the hunt and speared a rabbit by himself, as did Nate, and both presented the rabbits to their hosts. Scaevola had no luck at all. When they reached the Lost's camp, it was late afternoon and they enjoyed a meagre meal of rabbit, bread, and berries, the latter having been collected by the camp's females. The meal was conducted with very little talking, Nate suspecting his presence stifled conversation, which Scaevola later confirmed.

It appeared to Nate they were hunter-gatherers, and they need my soap. It appeared to the Lost that Nate could not stop scratching his arse. Why don't antibots work on itch leaf?

Although the majority of the Lost were well formed, many carried a deformity, mostly of limbs.

"They are not sure if they should trust you. Be sure to always speak Italian near them, or they may think you are hiding something or plotting against them."

"Why they so nervous?"

"The only time Romans approach their camps is to leave unwanted babies, or cause trouble in drunken groups, harassing them and their women."

The adults of the camp were comfortable with Aquilinus, and allowed him to play with their children. He ran in and out of their flimsy-looking tents to play hide and seek, and was fed on the run by numerous females who handed him food and water. When nightfall arrived, Vibianus led Nate and Scaevola to a tent vacated for their use. Nate thanked him and called out for Aquilinus to come to bed.

"Ohhhhhh, do I have to? I am not tired yet." He fell asleep the moment his head hit his travel blanket.

"How long babies been thrown out, Scaevola?"

"Centuries."

"Why so few Lost? Think be more by now."

"This is only one of their camps. Others are spread throughout the countryside."

"Do camps talk to each other?"

"I think so." Scaevola squinted. "Yes...yes they do. I have been here when leaders from other groups have visited."

"Did see all of them tonight?"

"No. Most are not here for some reason, maybe you, maybe away somewhere. They travel around a lot looking for food and work. Many pick up jobs on farms, working for food and a small amount of coin. It is said they are cheaper than slaves."

"So two, five, ten, hundred thousand Lost?"

"I do not know. Why so many questions?"

"Just wonder." This ancient world is a jumbled history of people and events living and happening when they shouldn't. Tina read nothing about the Lost. Perhaps they're the beginning of the Gypsies.

"I hope we see Glade tomorrow. I wish I could still fly with him," Scaevola said as he drifted off to sleep beside Aquilinus.

The Leluuwahn. Another anomaly. I cannot relate them to anything anywhere in history, not even in legend. Nate searched the net again while the boys slept.

XXVI

"Glade is here!" Scaevola announced excitedly after breakfast.

"Wooooooooowwwwwwwww. Look at him flying on that thing. I want a go. I want a go. Do you think he will let me have a go, Scaevola? Do you think he will?" Aqua was holding his willy, and Scaevola's arm, and jumping around.

"I will ask him. Come on." The two boys ran off towards a small, grass-covered hill where every other child in the camp was gathering. Nate saw the little Leluuwahn give each of the children a big hug. He was barely taller than most, shorter than some. Glade's smile showed his love for the Lost, a love that was returned by young and old.

"I flew with him when I was a boy." Vibianus had walked up to Nate.

Nate looked at him sideways. With his greying hair and beard, Vibianus appeared much older than Glade. "When you boy?"

"I see you do not believe me. I was a young boy, too young to fly, younger than your little brother, when I first remember seeing him. I am thirty-five. He is much older; how old, I do not know. His kind live long."

"How long?"

"We do not know. I asked him once. He did not answer. Maybe two hundred years, perhaps more."

Nate's disbelief grew as he watched the little man take his first passenger into the air. It wasn't Aquilinus but a small girl with a delightful smile, and she sat at the little man's feet.

"Aemiliana is first today. She is my son's daughter."

"You thirty-five. You have granddaughter four? Five? Yes?" Vibianus answered with a proud smile as Nate did the maths in his head. "You father at fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Sixteen, I think. My son, Atilius, was first a father at fourteen. Aemiliana is his second child."

Perhaps I should get Scaevola a woman to ease his wet dreams. No. I'm not going to be a pimp for a teenager.

The smiling granddaughter of Vibianus was having the time of her life flying between trees and over them, skimming the heads of adults and hovering above the other children. Slowly and gently, Glade returned the girl to the grassy knoll for the next child to take flight.

"My brother now," Nate said, seeing Aqua step onto Glade's... "Is that Shield?"

"Yes, it is one of the Crystal Shields all the Leluuwahn fly upon."

Feeling every bit as excited as Aquilinus looked, Nate watched him hop onto the Shield and sit at Glade's feet. Hovering in the air with a huge smile on his face, his curly hair brushed by a gentle breeze, Aquilinus pointed straight to his big brother.

"Wowwwww." Nate had to duck, Glade flying low enough to touch him before zooming over a nearby tree, spiralling down and around it then slaloming in and out of other trees, finally rocketing out to swoosh over Nate's head again and land where he started the flight. I wish I was still a kid.

"Did you see me, Nate, did you see me? Glade took me right up there." Aquilinus flapped his arms as he jumped up and down.

"Yes, saw you." Nate grabbed Aqua to hug him and scruff up his hair.

"I touched the top of the tree right up there, see that one there? Do you see it, Nate? I touched it."

"Yes, I saw, I saw."

"Did you see us swoosh down? We went around and around the tree until we got to the bottom." Aquilinus ran around and around in a spiral. "And then we went between the trees like this...," he ran an imaginary obstacle course between the trees, "and then woooooowwwwww, we went straight out over the top of everybody. Schoooooonnnnggggggg! Wait until I tell Mamma." Aquilinus jumped in the air and landed with feet apart, in imitation of Glade's flying stance. Pointing at the next child whose turn it was to ride on the Shield, Aqua waved to her as she flew past him and ran back up the hill to re-join the other children.

For the remainder of the day, child after child flew with Glade, and adults watched every moment. It was a carnival atmosphere. Unable to get Aquilinus to stop and eat, Nate fed him on the run. When Nate eventually got him to bed, Aquilinus was out like a light for the second night in a row.

Nate and Scaevola ate a quiet dinner with Vibianus and his friends. The Lost remained unsure of Nate, especially after he questioned them regarding their numbers. When the conversation died, Nate excused himself and returned to their tent, Scaevola remaining in the hope of talking a little longer.

"Nate." Scaevola stuck his head through the flap.

"What?" Nate was half asleep under his thin blanket, lying beside Aquilinus.

"Glade is here to see you." The little man walked into the tent and bowed, his palms held together in front of him. Nate bowed and held his hands as Glade had done, when in Rome, and they introduced themselves. Scaevola closed the tent flap behind him.

"You wish to see me Nate, yes?"

"Yes." I want to ask if you can return me to the future, but I'm not sure the moment is right. Instead, he looked to Scaevola for help. "You explain about phone yet?"

"No."

I wish this little fellow could speak English. It would make this a lot easier. "Do you think you could help me out here, Scaevola? I'm not too good at Italian, so how about you explain it to him."

"I can speak your language, Nate. You would like that, yes?" Glade said in English.

Nate looked at Glade and then to Scaevola, who shrugged and held out his hands, palms up. "I did not know he could speak English."

"Would you like me to speak English Nate, yes?"

"Yes, please. Where did you learn my language?"

"My people, we know many languages, yes. We speak the languages of those called Gaul, Assyrian, Egyptian, Greek, Latin, Phoenician, and the languages of lands you call Africa and Asia. You know other languages, yes?"

"No. Some would say I speak English poorly and I butcher Italian. How have you learnt so many?"

"We Travel, we make friends, talk, and learn, yes. Lines of war and territories do not stop us. We do not expect others to learn Leluuwahn as Romans expect others to speak their language."

"Scaevola tells me that the Leluuwahn are servants of God. Would you mind if I asked which God?"

"The only true God."

That sounds like a Christian reply. "And the name of your God is?"

"That would depend on your faith, yes, but the name matters not."

"Which faith? Is your Lord the Lord of Judaism, Christianity or..." it's too soon yet but... "Islam?"

"Yes."

"Yes? To all three?" Nate's eyebrows were up.

"Yes, Nate. He is the Lord of all. I see you do not believe me. I am correct, yes?"

"Yes, but I'm happy for you to enlighten me."

"The three religions you mention are the Abrahamic religions, yes, for they trace their roots back to Abraham. Our Lord created everything, including physical and moral laws. God then chose Abraham to father a nation, a nation to follow those laws and be the example for all others. Of the faiths, Judaism came first, and its roots carry through to the others. The Jewish call our Lord YHWH, or Yahweh, or Adonai. The Jewish put obedience to Gods laws above faith."

Nate sat intrigued. Scaevola was unhappy; there is more than one god, and their king is Jupiter.

"Next came Christianity."

"Christians? Titus mentioned them in the tent." Scaevola was speaking Italian.

"Yes, Scaevola. They are few but growing in numbers in Judea. For Christians, Jesus Christ, the Son of our Lord, is the central figure of their religion. For them, our Lord's name is God. The Christians focus on eternal salvation, and it is faith more so than behaviour that they see is essential for salvation, yes.

"Last, and yet to appear, is Islam. The followers of Islam will be the Muslims. For them Jesus Christ was a true prophet, but no more important than other prophets. In their eyes all true prophets are Muslims because true prophets know how to submit correctly to the Lord. Islam is defined by submission to the will of the Lord whom they call Allah. They see the interpretations of Allah's will by the first two religions as containing errors that have grown over time.

"But whether you call him Adonai, God, or Allah, there is only one Lord, yes."

"Right. But with Christians fighting Christians, and Muslims fighting Muslims, and them all wanting to fight each other, do you think they will ever combine to become one?"

"Peace will come to them all, yes. One day they will shrug off their differences, to focus on their similarities. We have a prophecy that our Lord will give us one who will help in that process more than others, and that one may not be willing, or knowing, of his role until it is complete."

I hope that's not me. "I don't suppose you know what a phone is, do you?"

All this one God talk is bull manure.

"You have phones with you from the future, yes?"

"I did not tell him, Nate. Honestly."

"That's OK. So, how much do you know about the future?"

"I saw you arrive. You are from the future, yes?"

"Yes. When I arrived, two of your people were looking down on us. One had silver hair, the other white, and I have seen the silver-haired man a few times since. I also saw him in the future. Was he involved in bringing me here?"

"I do not know. With silver hair, he would be an elder, yes. Elders do not tell others of their business."

"Have you been to the future? Can you transport me home?"

"You have a phone, yes?"

By avoiding my question I think he answered it. I want you as a friend, Glade. "I would like you to keep one safe for me."

"Your spare phone? You Travelled with three. You have one. Scaevola has one. You have a spare, yes?"

"Yes," Scaevola replied. "How you know three?" As the others were speaking English, Scaevola reverted to it.

"I saw three arrive on the bed. I saw three using phones. I will keep it safe, yes." Glade held out his hand.

Nate removed the spare phone from his pack. Bart had reconnected it and Nate had synchronised its settings to the other two. When Glade's fingerprints were loaded, Nate handed the phone to him and watched the Leluuwahn secure it in a small compartment at the centre of his Shield.

"Would you like a lesson on how to use it?"

"I have the knowledge to use it, yes. Call me when you wish. May I ask something of you?"

"Of course."

"My friend has been captured by the Romans. I know not how you may help, but if one day I do, will you give aid, yes?"

"Scaevola has explained your situation to me, and we will help where we can, won't we, Scaevola?"

"Yes. Love help Glade. You good man, good friend."

"I may have seen her. There was a Leluuwahn female in the palace, and I wondered at the time if she was your Sarai. She looked well," though a little scared.

"Thank you for telling me. I have a lady friend who is trying to help me. She has met with no success, yet. She is Porcia. She works in the palace. You know her, yes?"

"No." Glade looked disappointed. "But I do know her sister." Glade brightened.

Before departing, Glade pointed at the eagle symbol on their chests. "Symbol of your owner, yes?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Another here wears that symbol. You would see him, yes?"

"Is he a runaway slave?" Nate asked.

"No. You should see him." Glade offered his best wishes, placed his palms together, bowed, and was gone.

Scaevola and Nate talked for a while, agreeing that in the morning they would find who it was that wore the emblem of Aelia's familia. They settled down for the night with their phones, Scaevola searching the net, and Nate sending Bart a few messages.

"Hello. Hello," Scaevola said.

"Are you trying to talk to Glade already?"

"No. Mistake. Called someone you know. Trev? He your friend?"

"Yes, he was a mate of mine, but he's dead." Nate felt a rush of emotions. He missed Trev, he missed Bart, and he missed his family. I miss home. At least now I know the elders can return us home, even if they won't.

Dead? Maybe not. Someone answered. His dead friend could be alive. Seeing the emotion Nate was trying to hide, Scaevola thought it best not to say anything until he knew with whom he had connected. After a few texts, Scaevola found it was not Trev. It was someone called Saxby from somewhere called London, and Scaevola would, over time, come to know the man from Nate's world.

Nate went to sleep thinking about Trev and Bart and his family.

XXVI

"He has made contact with Glade, Sos, and Glade has told him of our prophecy for the one who will unite all believers, yes."

"It is unlikely the prophecy refers to him, no. I have not made the connection. For now it is enough that the two have met. If Glade travels to Judea, he will be of help to the man."

The Leluuwahn elders placed their palms together, bowed, and opened their eyes to finish their telepathy.

The suspicions Sos had for Glade were correct, yes. Random acts contribute to our Lord's greater plan. I must trust Sos, learn, and show patience for the human to foster his military alliance.

XXVI

At daylight Aquilinus ran off to play with the other children, and Nate and Scaevola went to look for the man wearing Aelia's eagle.

"Why would someone who was not a slave and not aligned to Aelia's familia wear the eagle? I wear it, but my circumstances are unusual."

"Perhaps Glade wrong. Perhaps man escaped slave, but he remove eagle, would not he?"

"The man could be a familia member who has run away. If he is, when he sees the eagles on our tunics he might attempt to command us. I did not appreciate Paulus and Longinus commanding me." The two walked in silence until they met Vibianus.

"Hi, Vibianus. Glade told us last night of a man in your camp who wears this eagle." Scaevola pointed to his chest. "Is that true?"

"No."

"No? Glade mistake?"

"No. The one who wears your eagle is not a man but a small boy, a baby. Come, I will show you." Vibianus led them through the camp towards an old tent, thirteen to fourteen feet wide with equal depth, showing a few holes near the ground and brown stains on the material. Calling to those inside for permission to enter, Vibianus pulled back the tent flap when permission was granted. The smell of long unwashed bodies in a confined space was so overpowering that Nate briefly considered a brisk exit, until curiosity overruled his senses. Scaevola, knowing the odour to expect, remained outside.

The smell came from a group of four mothers suckling babies at the tent's centre, and there was no eagle amongst them.

"Over there." Vibianus pointed to the rear left corner of the tent where a woman with unruly hair was holding, but not suckling, her baby. When Nate moved further inside, Vibianus departed.

"May I?" Nate asked, gesturing to the four women at the centre to be allowed to move past them towards the far corner. Only one of the four looked up, and only to look sideways and nod her approval. Nate walked to the woman with unruly hair, pointed to the eagle on his chest and then to the eagle on the baby. Holding out his arms, he asked, "May I?"

"P-p-p-please be c-careful. I-I-I...love him very m-m-m-much." The woman kissed the boy on his forehead, looked at Nate, kissed the boy again then handed him to Nate.

"May take outside? Will return." Nate looked at her earnestly, waiting for an answer. She did not speak, but bowed her head, and Nate noted numerous holes in her rough but clean tunic. Outside, Scaevola confirmed what Nate had been thinking. "He looks like you."

"He do."

"It is 'he does,' not 'he do,' and you could be his father."

"No, couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Just couldn't." My contraceptive won't allow that. Nate also hadn't been in Rome long enough to father anything more than an embryo.

"His skin, hair, and eyes are like yours."

"Face not."

"No. I...do you...do you think he looks like Aelia?"

Scaevola's question confirmed Nate's thoughts. The boy has the same thin face and high cheekbones as Aelia. "He do."

"It is 'he does,' not 'he do,' and he wears the same white silk Aelia wears, with her leopard trim. She did not give us silk or leopard trim. Do you think he is Aelia's son?"

Scaevola had read Nate's thoughts once again. "I do."

"It is not 'I do,' it is 'I...' oh. You got it right that time. Why would Aelia abandon her own son?"

"Do not know. Strange he not coloured like Roman. Maybe that why."

"Her husband would have been Roman, not a man like you. So...ohh."

"I thinking same, Scaevola. I thinking same." Nate pondered what that said of Aelia as the boy began to cry. Unable to settle him, Nate re-entered the tent, assuming the stammering woman had the equipment the boy required.

"She have no thumbs," Nate said to Scaevola once outside. He hadn't noticed it the first time he had seen her, only when the woman held out her arms to cradle the child.

"No thumbs? It was probably Balbina. Was she plump and stammered with lots of hair?"

"Yes."

"Definitely Balbina. She had no child the last time I was here. Did you ask his name?"

"Medeely. Not sound Roman."

Walking away from the tent, the two agreed to say nothing about Medeely to anyone.

XXVI

When the three brothers departed the camp that afternoon, Scaevola led the way as before, with Aquilinus riding on Nate's shoulders. They would be walking for two and a half days to get home, and Scaevola wanted to find their first camp before nightfall. They stopped near the top of a small hill amongst a few large rocks. The rocks hid them from view, and the hill would allow them to see approaching danger.

They ate some of the dried food still stored in their packs, supplemented with food Vibianus had provided, and chatted in their native languages. Aquilinus was effusive about flying with Glade, Scaevola reminisced of his flights with Glade, and Nate listened and speculated on the cost of buying his freedom.

As he settled into his blanket, Scaevola stayed on one elbow to point out a thin stream of smoke rising from a stand of trees to the north. Against Scaevola's advice, Nate decided to investigate.

"Be quiet. You do not know who they might be. Take your spear and this knife." Scaevola handed Nate a knife and belt he had purchase in the Lost's camp. It had a curved blade and animals carved into the bone handle. The knife would be lighter than a sword to run with should flight be needed.

Not a woodsman, Nate followed Scaevola's advice as best he could and moved through the trees with the stealth of a bulldozer. As he lumbered closer to the source of the smoke, daylight abandoned him, leaving only the reflected light of a half-moon to light his way. He stopped one hundred feet from the source of the smoke, not trusting his ability to remain unnoticed. Crouching behind a bush, he watched as three men sat in a small clearing around a smouldering campfire, roasting meat on the ends of sticks. There was a small pot of vegetables simmering over the coals.

Those three were in the palace on the night Aelia and I were invited to dinner by Milonia. I didn't like the look of them then, and I don't like the look of them now. The one with a whip tied at his waist stood, lifted a branding iron from the fire, and moved to Nate's right towards the edge of their clearing. For the first time, Nate noticed a body hanging by its feet from a tree, motionless in the dark. From the shape of its buttocks, it was a young woman, her arms tied behind her back, and a bandage around her head for a gag. There was a brief glint of red from her back, and then it was gone. Strips of flesh were missing from her back and buttocks. Nate struggled to hold back the bile that came to his throat as the realisation struck him that the girl was the source of their meat. For her sake, I hope she's dead. A dark stain on the ground was her blood.

The man with the whip raised his branding iron, pressed it into her side, and to Nate's horror she wriggled and released a muffled scream as she tried in vain to escape the iron's burning touch. She can't be alive. It can't be possible. Nate's head spun from the scene before him, the man circling the girl, branding her stomach, sides, and what remained of each buttock before securing the glowing iron between her legs. Each brand had burned the squiggly line of a snake into her skin. Nate turned away when the cannibal removed a knife from his hip to slice more flesh from her bones.

After what seemed like an eternity, her muffled screams ceased. Please let her be dead. I'll pray to Amanda's God if I have to. When he looked back, not wanting to look at the girl, he saw the one with the whip distribute meat for the others to cook.

XXVI

"The favourite cut of our friend who believes he is a god." Aub passed some buttock to each of his companions, keeping the breast for himself.

"Could you pass the salt please, Aldegund?" Big Anzo sniffed the flesh charred by Aub's searing brand. "I love the smell of burning skin. Yessssss. Add some salt," which Aldegund had provided, "and we will have crackling to chew on."

"A pity we do not live in that palace with Gaius. With all the slaves he kills, one night would give us enough meat for a month," grizzled Aldegund, always capable of seeing greener pastures. "Who would have thought the little boy we shared meat with one night in Germania would end up as emperor of Rome? You know, if we had not found him when he lost his way, he would never have become emperor."

"So you are now glad you did not eat him? Remember, you wanted to," Aub reminded him.

"Yes, but once you told me he was the general's son, I was not going to eat him."

"You still wanted to, Aldegund." Anzo licked his fingers.

"Although this one tastes nice, I am not comfortable eating her. We have never eaten our own before." Despite his discomfort, Aldegund relished the thought of eating some lightly cooked meat from her thigh.

"She is not one of us. Her father and her father's father ceased to be Cherusci when they murdered my father. Take no pity on the daughter of a traitor. If it were not for her family, we would still be in Germania, not living within our enemies. She dies in pain, as did my father."

The three settled into cooking their meat, supplementing it with vegetables from their pot. They discussed the herbs and spices of Rome's markets, looked forward to their next meeting with Gaius, and decided their next meal would come from a farm not far away where they had underpaid for livestock before.

"Shut up...Listen." Aub looked towards their hanging pantry.

XXVI

I can't leave her alive to endure their butchering. Armed with spear and knife, stealing through the darkness beyond the clearing, Nate chose his footfalls carefully. Darting out from the woods to hide behind her tree, he peered around the trunk to see the cannibals engrossed in their meal and conversation. He turned and collapsed against her tree. I made it ...... thank Christ for that.

Taking a deep breath, he looked over his shoulder to the girl. Another glint of red. What is it? This time the red flickered twice before stopping. With his interest piqued, it allowed Nate to focus on something other than his gruesome task. I'll check the source of the light before I ... before I do what I do.

The smell of smoke and roasting meat came to Nate's nostrils. Good. I'm downwind of those bastards, and a strong smell of alcohol gave him hope that if discovered the men may be too drunk to give chase. Resting his spear against the tree, Nate placed Scaevola's knife between his teeth, lay on his belly, and crawled towards the girl, mercy, and fear.

XXVI

"Why is Nate taking so long, Scaevola?"

"I do not know. Hopefully he is following my advice." But I doubt it. Nate does what Nate wants. Scaevola looked intently towards the smoke. I do not want to return to the legions.

"Mamma says Nate eats a lot. Maybe he is trying to get some of their food."

"Perhaps. We have enough, though I would prefer something with a little more taste."

XXVI

The smell of alcohol grew stronger as Nate approached the girl. Once before her, he realised she was the source of the odour. They plied her with booze to dull her senses, dull the pain of the knife to keep her alive. Still on the ground he looked up to see the girl's face.

Oh fuck. Marcellina. Bile filled Nate's mouth and he spat it out. Oh shit. If only I'd been more careful with Pomponia, she wouldn't be here. They must have purchased her from a slave trader like meat from a butcher. This is my fault.

A drop of blood fell from Marcellina's open chest to land on the back of his hand. Mouth open, eyes wide, he could not take his eyes from it.

Snap out of it. Find a brave heart to find hers. With her hanging upside down and his head spinning, it wasn't easy. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Your heart is on your left. My heart is here. He touched his chest. She's in front of me, facing me, but upside down, so my left must be her right, it must be there. Nate rose to his knees, steeled his heart, and plunged the blade into her chest. Her body stiffened, her eyes opened wide, but she did not gag, did not react like he thought she would with a knife in her heart.

Fuck! Wrong side. With her upside down, his left was her left, and their eyes met. He wanted to hold her, wanted to take away her pain and make right all the wrongs he had caused. I can't. He pulled out the blade to plunge it into her again, this time finding his target. She stiffened, shook, gagged and went limp, her eyes still staring at him. "I'm so sorry Marcellina," he whispered in her ear, tears rolling down his face. I'm so sorry. With his hand still on the knife in her chest, Nate wondered if Marcellina had a family. I never thought to ask her. No one who loves her will know she's dead.

Nate had never felt such guilt and sorrow. Not wanting to leave her, neither could he take her with him. When he removed the knife from her chest, blood seeped from the wound. There can't be much left inside her. He did his best to ignore her wound by wiping his blood-covered blade in the dirt, then wiped the dirt from the blade onto his thigh before sheathing it. Standing, he brushed the wet dirt from his thigh and commenced shuffling back to the tree. Despite trying not to, he could not help but stop and look back at her, his heart now as limp as her body. Another glint of red. Since he hadn't wanted to leave her, he was quick to return to find the source of the light.

The glint was firelight reflecting in a ruby. That's Sarah's ruby ring. How in hell?

Gently removing the ring from her finger, Nate placed it on his little finger for safekeeping, and with slumped shoulders began walking back to the tree to retrieve his spear. The events leading to the murder weighed heavily on his mind. He preferred to focus on the ring, preferred to remember Sarah. As he walked away, he knew he would need to—CRACK—walk more carefully.

SHIT. He tripped and fell to his hands and knees. He could hear the shouts of the cannibals as they ran towards him. SHIT! There's two of them. The one with the whip also carried the hot iron while the giant carried a burning torch from the fire to light their way.

"Put out the flame, Anzo, you idiot. It ruins our night sight."

"But I cannot see without it," and I am scared of the dark.

"And with it he can see—aaughhhh."

Nate had jumped from behind a tree to spear Aub in the right thigh, only for Aub to lash out with the iron to brand Nate's shin. Grimacing in pain, Nate looked up to see the giant that was lumbering towards him trip over his wounded comrade and land at Nate's feet.

Fuck you. Nate speared the giant in the right shoulder and felt his spear point thud into the ground.

"ARGH!"

Sorry about the swearing mum but he deserved it. Nate put a foot on the man's shoulder to remove the spear, then ran from the scene as fast as he could. With only the moon to light the rocky terrain, he tripped and fell a dozen times before finding his brothers.

"We're leaving."

"Why? What has happened and how did you get that?" Scaevola pointed to the ring on Nate's finger as it reflected in the moonlight. Each spoke his own language.

"Collect everything. We need to get out of here as fast as we can. I'll explain on the way. You lead, and don't take us anywhere near that camp." Nate flicked his head to the column of smoke. "Can you find your way in the dark?"

"Probably." Scaevola heard the worry in Nate's voice, and despite the dim light registered the worry on Nate's face also. Questions could wait. He hurriedly gathered his things to lead his brothers down the southern side of the hill and off into the night they ran. Aquilinus was oblivious to it all; Nate carried him asleep on his chest, the boy's head resting on Nate's shoulder; playing with the children of the Lost, flying with Glade, and trekking had taken a toll.

XXVI

"Did you get him, Anzo?" Aldegund asked as his friend trudged back to the fire.

"No. He stuck me in the shoulder and Aub in the leg. Aub does not look happy."

Aub was flaying Marcellina's body with his razor whip, cutting her to pieces, slicing flesh from her bones, her limbs from her body, and her head from her shoulders. The escaped stranger could identify us. Gaius can protect us, perhaps, but that could place him at risk. When he returned to the fire, only the lower half of one leg was still hanging from the tree, the other leg having been cut off at the ankle, and the foot having fallen from the rope. Aub was limping.

"You wasted a lot of good food there, Aub." Aldegund did not like waste. "Did you get a look at him?"

"No, but I branded his leg. We will know him if ever we see the mark."

With two of them unfit to chase the attacker, they settled in around their fire, only tending their wounds after they had eaten. Experienced at wound care from living rough and fighting the Romans, they cleaned each wound with acetum and then covered the spear holes with lint, animal grease, and finally honey. The lint helped the wound heal, the grease acted as a barrier to infection, and the honey fought infection.

"DAMN HIM TO HEL. He has your ring, Anzo." Aub did not remember seeing it on what was left of the girl. Hel was the Germanic and Norse guardian of the dead.

XXVI

With the injuries Nate had inflicted upon the men, he was confident of getting home safely without being caught. It wasn't until they stopped for a break, about two hours after setting off, that Nate explained events to Scaevola, leaving out that the girl was Marcellina. His guilt was too strong to reveal that yet. He explained whom the ring had belonged to, and that he had no idea how the girl came to be wearing it. Scaevola handled the situation calmly, proceeding to plan their path home, when to rest, and how to maximise their safety and speed. After another hour of travelling, they found a rocky knoll to rest for the night.

When Aquilinus woke around daybreak, Nate told him that bad men might be chasing them and he wasn't to shout or wander off. They were to follow Scaevola home, and for the remainder of the day the boy never complained of the pace he was expected to maintain. He ran beside them, hitched a ride on Nate's back, and always behaved himself, doing as he was told. He was good and brave but only a boy.

"You need go wee wee?" Nate asked after they made camp for the night.

"No."

"Then why holding you sword?"

Pausing, Aqua answered sheepishly, "I do it when I get...scared. Like when I have a bad dream. Mamma says it is alright."

"Does she?" Nate put an arm around his little brother, and cuddled him close. "OK be worried about men follow us, Aqua. Not OK to hold you sword because of them. You need let go. You sleep between Scaevola and me tonight. We keep you safe, yes Scaevola?" Scaevola nodded and Aqua released his willy.

"Just do not fart in my direction," Scaevola said, and they shared a laugh.

Nate flicked the bulla hanging around Aqua's neck. "Where you like go when you become man, Aqua? I take you there."

"Egypt. I want to see the pyramids and the giant lion man. Can we go there?"

"Sure. I promise." I hope I can deliver on that.

Talking of future adventures not only helped Aqua, it also helped Nate bury his emotions to become the rock that his brothers needed. His store of faith in human nature had been depleted. Those men used a sledgehammer to kill a butterfly, and the head of the hammer had swung through to wound Nate's heart, scars he would hide from all but a few.

Scaevola had noticed Nate limping during the day and despite protests he managed to tend Nate's wound with lint, animal grease, and honey. With his antibots Nate knew Scaevola's help was not needed, but it gave them something to focus on other than their possible pursuers.

"Wound fester not properly treated," Scaevola lectured, practising his English. "What burn you with? Look like snake."

"It was the branding iron with the snake on the end I told you about."

"Will leave scar. Easy them to know you if see."

Nate had never thought of his scar becoming his Judas. Knowing them to be cannibals, he wanted to stop those three from identifying who had wounded them. "Is there a way of changing it?" He hoped for an answer that did not include and overlaying brand.

"Brand again. Over top. Will change shape. Not now, no fire. Wait we get home. Brand then."

Happy days.

After a meagre cold breakfast, they broke camp. Worried that every bird that flew from a bush, and every animal that scurried to safety could be a sign of approaching doom, they stopped for only three short breaks during the day. At nightfall they made camp under an overhanging rock hidden by shrubs; Scaevola had noticed it when the three stopped to cross swords on the shrub. Nate and Scaevola took turns keeping watch. Aquilinus wanted to take his turn too, but fell asleep in Nate's lap. When the night finished without incident, it was raining and only a few hours to Rome. The footprints they left in the mud made them thankful it hadn't rained earlier in their trek. Arriving home, exhausted and unwashed for a week, the brothers collapsed onto their beds. No one was home to cajole them into washing, or enquire about their adventure.

When Aelia, Pomponia, and Fulvia arrived home, their noise was not enough to wake the weary travellers, and they chose to leave them asleep. On the walk home, Aquilinus had been the one to rest most, and so was the first to rise, running to his Mamma's voice in the garden courtyard.

"Mamma."

"Aquilinus. Oh my beautiful boy. It is so good to have you back. Tell me of your travels." Aelia lifted him into her arms, and immediately returned him to his feet. "You need a wash."

"And I need to take a pee pee, Mamma." Aqua ran off. Aelia shook her head and smiled.

"Boys." Pomponia was glad to have him home too.

When Aqua returned to the courtyard, his pee pee had reminded him of something. "Mamma."

"Yes, my darling?" Aelia was seated on a garden chair.

"What uses does a girl's no pee pee have?"

"I am not sure what you mean, Aquilinus." Aelia exchanged quizzical glances with Pomponia.

"The boys at school say girls have no pee pee."

"Yes." Aelia now understood what he was asking but preferred that he had not.

"I asked Nate, and he said that was right. He said they cannot pee on trees, and that is because they have a basic design fault."

"Oh, he said that, did he? Interesting. I shall speak with Nate about that."

"Yes, he did. But it must be alright, because Nate said their no pee pee's have their uses, but he did not say what girls could use them for. What can they use them for, Mamma?"

"I shall explain that when you are older, young man, but for now..."

"When I get older? That is what Nate said about my sword."

"Your sword?"

"Yes. My sword." Aqua pointed to his crotch. "Nate said when I get older, it will be long enough to stick in things and that girls like men who can use a sword well. Why do I have to wait until I get older, Mamma?"

"You just do." I wish I had a husband to explain this. "Now, tell me all about your camping trip. Was it an adventure?" Aquilinus gave her an animated account of their travels: the camping, his flying with Glade, the Lost, and he finished with the story of the bad men who had chased them all the way home. Aelia was not pleased to hear that her son knew Glade, disapproved of him meeting the Lost, and was uneasy at the thought of bad men chasing her son.

"Why were bad men chasing you?"

"I do not know, Mamma. Nate said they probably would not catch us, and Nate was right; they did not."

"Why was Nate so certain?" Pomponia had questions of her own.

"I heard Nate telling Scaevola he had stuck them with a spear and that was why they would not be able to catch us. I ran really fast, and sometimes Nate carried me, and sometimes I slept on Nate's back."

"You slept on Nate's back when Nate was sleeping?" Pomponia asked.

"No, when Nate was running. I sat on Nate's lap when I was doing guard duty. I took my turn." He stood straight and tall.

"Nate required you to perform guard duty?" Aelia tapped a ringed finger on her chair. I definitely need a word with him.

"No, Mamma. I wanted to guard. I wanted to help. Nate said no, but I wanted to, so I did my guard duty with Nate and helped to keep him awake...but I fell asleep in his lap." He looked to his feet.

"Pomponia, would you bring Nate to me, please? Wake him if necessary."

Pomponia was glad for Nate's return. Priapus alone could not achieve what Nate and Priapus could accomplish together. Walking into his room, she lifted Nate's edge of the blanket, snuck a peak under his tunic, and then pulled on his manhood to wake and lead him from the room.

"Coming, coming. Not pull so hard."

"Aelia wants a word with you." She did not release him, taking him for a quick sponge down which she performed herself. I have missed you. "Why is your leg bandaged?"

Nate ignored the question, not wishing to talk to the woman who had sent Marcellina to her death.

"You have some explaining to do about the bad men who were chasing you." Finished, she smacked him on the bottom and allowed him to walk freely to his doom.

"Please explain why my son flew with a Leluuwahn, met with the Lost, and was chased by 'bad men' that you felt the need to spear. And explain to me why you asked Aquilinus to keep watch while you slept." I know the last to be wrong, but I feel like hitting you.

Nate had a tired stretch, reaching up high and rising to his toes it to give himself time to think.

"Didn't ask him keep watch. He wanted. Yes?" Nate winked at Aqua, hoping for some for help.

"That is right Mamma. I asked Nate if I could, and he let me."

"That right, Mamma...sorry...Mistress." She smiled a little at that. "He sleep, not me."

"And flying? My son could have fallen from that Shield and been killed, and YOU would have been held responsible."

"He safe. Glade take lots kids flying. No one fall. He safe. Scaevola fly when he boy too."

"Glade is a nice man, Mamma. He took lots of us flying, and no one fell off his Shield."

"I shall reserve my judgement on flying for a later date. As for the Lost, you are not to visit them again, any of you."

And I know why. Nate raised his eyebrows.

"Ohh, but Mamma. It was great fun. All the other boys and girls flew, and Scaevola did it when he was my age, and he did not get hurt. Why can I not do it?"

"I did not say you could not fly again, Aquilinus. I said I shall decide that later. What I do not want is for you to meet with the Lost again. Do you understand, young man?"

"Yes, Mamma."

"And what of these bad men, Nate? Tell me what happened."

"Like to do when no one listen, Mistress."

"Why?" A strange request.

"You will know when I tell." Nate nodded towards Aquilinus.

"Pomponia, please bathe Aquilinus and ask Fulvia to prepare him some breakfast." Once Aqua was out of sight, she looked at Nate, and although she said nothing, it was obvious to him from the frown on her face, the crossed legs, and the ring tapping the arm of her chair that she expected a full answer.

"Cannibals. Three cannibals. Men had girl, hung by feet, still alive, cutting her up, eating her. Cannibals."

Aelia's frown was replaced by open-mouthed disbelief.

"You know them," he said, pointing to her.

"I know them? I can assure you I certainly do not, and I am not sure I believe you about men eating a girl. How would I know such men?"

"You do. Milonia do. Emperor do. They at dinner we at. At palace."

"What men at the palace? And Milonia and the emperor know them? Three men that..." Aelia stopped as she remembered three unsavoury-looking men who attended dinner that night.

"You remember now." I can see you do.

"I remember three men who were guests of the emperor. I did not like the look of them on the night. Are you saying they were the men you saw eating a girl...alive?"

"Yes." Nate described the events as best he could in his broken Italian. When he came to the part where the girl was Marcellina, Aelia appeared ready to faint. Both said nothing while she recovered herself.

"How is your leg? Does it require further attention?" I approved Pomponia's request to sell those girls. Neither wanted to discuss what Marcia's fate may have been.

Nate shrugged. "Don't know. No worry. It get better."

"Well, you should worry. I will have Pomponia take you to the Greek physician everyone is talking about, Hippocrates."

"Hippocrates?"

"Yes. Have you heard of him?"

"Perhaps." Hippocrates lived years, centuries, before this, but with everything else screwed up in this world, why shouldn't Hippocrates be the doctor I consult? But before that I need to change the shape of my burn.

XXVI

"Come on. You can eat and sleep later." Pomponia was tugging on Nate's arm, trying to move him out the door to attend the physician.

"Not yet. I hungry."

Fulvia was in the kitchen, the oven was hot, and fortunately Aquilinus was eating breakfast in his bedroom while he played with his toys. Nate removed the bandage from his leg, wrapped it around his hand to open the oven door, and bent over to remove a hot dish, only for Fulvia to grab his balls from behind. As he held the dish to his leg, it hurt like hell, but he kept it there for the count of five.

"SHIT," he said through gritted teeth, standing up with Fulvia still holding him. "Will you PISS OFF?" he shouted in English. He dropped the dish and its contents splashed across the floor. Fulvia hadn't understood his words, but his sentiment had been clear; she released him.

Perhaps I should not hold him so long.

"What was that all about?" Pomponia asked as she followed him to the front door of the villa.

"Drop dish." I have no need to tell you the whole story, he thought as he sat on the threshold of the villa to re-wrap his bandage. As he wrapped he thought on two things to take his mind from the pain. I'm going to meet Hippocrates, the father of the Hippocratic Oath. Doctors still use that oath. Amazing. And I need improve my command of Italian.

"Pomponia."

"You are going to the doctor, Nate, and do not try to talk your way out of it." I do not want a one-legged, limping lover.

"It well dressed. No need go doctor," but I want to meet Hippocrates. "I want speak better Italian. Know anyone can help me?"

"I do not know what a docta is. I am ordering you to go to the physician and that is the end of that. As to your speech, Scaevola is performing his task with less thoroughness than required. There are any number of Greek educators in Rome who I am sure could help you, and Jupiter knows you need it, though I am not sure how you will afford them. Aelia will not be willing to pay."

"I have coin."

"From the potion?"

Nate nodded. Although it had only been a few days, word of the emperor's health had spread quickly and the potion had sold well before he left for the Lost.

"Yes, I would say you do."

"And two business with Lucius."

"With Lucius, you say. And what might those businesses be?"

"Wax and soap. Perfume, foamy soap."

"The new wax and soaps that have recently come onto market? Are those the ones you sell with Lucius?"

"Yes."

Pomponia shook her head in disbelief. Only two days before, she had been to a beautician in the Forum to endure a full body wax. Every hair had gone, and she longed to show Nate her silky smooth skin. I feel so sexy. Being hairless brings out the vixen in me. And yesterday at the markets with her friend Nona, she had purchased and later used the new soap that smelled like strawberries.

"When have you had the time to make strawberry soap with Lucius?"

"No make. My idea. Tell Lucius. He find someone make it. We share money. Easy."

Incredible.

They arrived at the surgery, and the receptionist asked them to fill out a form. Pomponia took the form, not bothering to read Nate the questions as she answered them for him.

"You know everything?" he asked, and she continued without pause. He pointed to the form and repeated, "You know everything of me? No need ask?"

"It relates to who will be paying your bill. I had assumed Aelia would be paying. Would you like to?"

"Yes. I pay."

"Then fill it out yourself." She shoved it towards him.

Bugger. I can read even worse than I speak Italian. "You help? Please?"

"Oh, give it to me."

I do.

Men!

"Mr. Nate?" an elderly man asked. He had a ring of wavy hair circling an otherwise bald head, a wavy beard, and a solid build to round off his appearance. Pomponia and Nate followed and sat where directed.

"So, still coming with your mother, are you, Mr. Nate?"

Smart-arsed prick.

Before Nate had a chance to answer, Pomponia did, explaining that Nate was from Ohstrayla, not Rome, and she was present to translate.

"Where is Ohstrayla, Nate?"

"A bloody long way from here," Nate said in English. Thinking better of it, he reverted to Italian. "Other side world, underneath."

"Is he from Hades?" Hippocrates asked Pomponia, backing away as he did. She explained Ohstrayla's location.

The doctor raised his eyebrows and then employed a more amiable manner. "How can I help you today, man from Ohstrayla?"

Nate unwrapped the bandage to show Hippocrates the wound, and the most famous physician in history pronounced there was nothing more he could do; it was already well dressed.

Nate looked at Pomponia. I told you so.

Pomponia pointed a finger in his face. "Do not give me that look. It needed a diagnosis." She sat bolt upright and stared at Hippocrates, her jaw out and beak nose in the air. Useless man.

"Doctor. You Greek?" Hippocrates looked sideways at Nate and nodded in reply. "You know good teachers, teach me Italian?"

"Yes I do, Mr. Nate."

Nate started dreaming of having Socrates or Plato or Aristotle teaching him Italian.

"My friend Philandros could help you. I can have my receptionist take you there, if you wish." He did, and she did, and from that day on Nate's Italian improved. He wanted to speak Italian like a Roman, without an accent and with good grammar.

XXVI

How odd. I have a barbarian with coin who speaks the tongue of Britannia and pays for me to educate him in Roman language and customs, and now, a week later, I have a Vestal who wishes to speak the tongue of Britannia. How fortunate that I convinced the heathen to improve my Britannia skills. More coin for me. Philandros, not long in Rome from Greece, was pleased his skills were in demand.

# Chapter 27

# A Little Misunderstanding

##

## Ancient Rome - January 20, 41 CE

## The Future - May 3, 2070

"What the hell is that perverted mate of yours up to now, Bart?"

Nate had been in ancient Rome for six months, which for Bart and the modern world was twenty-five years. New York, London and Rome had recovered, as Hiroshima and Nagasaki had done before them. The hot heads responsible for deploying the bombs had been replaced by heads of greater sobriety; the Chinese had trod a bloodied path to democracy, and their proposal for a single world government was gaining momentum.

Bart had moved into Nate's apartment, enjoyed the view down the Gosford Broadwater, and had full access to Nate's bank account. Bart had married a local girl called Michelle, a strawberry-blonde of Irish descent with a pretty face, lovely smile, petite breasts and shapely thighs. She loved to display her bodacious assets in low-cut tops and short skirts. With Nate's money, which Michelle thought was Bart's, they had purchased an adjoining apartment and started a family—two boys, redheaded Trevor followed by dark-haired Nathaniel, punctuated by a girl in between with blonde hair whom they called Wednesday.

At forty-six, Bart had developed Parkinson's disease, deteriorating to the point where he needed an implant in his brain to stop his shaking. With Michelle in charge of his remote control, Bart needed to keep her content or risk being reduced to a six-foot-tall vibrator.

Michelle disbelieved every word Bart said about Nate being in ancient Rome, and she loathed what she discovered of him on Bart's phone. Reading back through his messages about Nate and Scaevola sharing a bed, Michelle did the maths, added one and one together, came up with three, and was shocked by the result.

"What?" Why does she always want to talk while I'm watching the footy? It was a late night replay. My name is mud if I disturb her while she's watching a soapie.

"To quote your perverted friend Nate, 'Had sex in the atrium pond today and was caught by the family.' Doesn't that family include a little boy and a teenager?"

Shit. I'd been meaning to hide those old messages, but some of them were pretty funny. I'd better go on the attack. "Why are you going through my phone?"

"And what in the hell is this? Why is he sleeping with the teenager and watching him have wet dreams? Didn't you tell me that boy was only sixteen, only two years older than Trevor?"

"It's not like that, Michelle. I keep telling you he's back in ancient Rome and..."

"Don't you give me any more of that time-travelling ancient Roman BULLSHIT, Bart. I'm not hearing any more of it. And this pervert you call a friend, this paedophile, needs to be brought to account."

"He is NOT a paedophile, Michelle. I keep telling you, they have to share a bed because..."

"NO MORE BULLSHIT, BART. If you won't deal with it, I will."

"And how are you going to do that? I'm pretty damn confident you can't go there?" Bart sipped on his VB, stupid woman, a bitter beer made in the southern state of Victoria, and turned up the volume on the TV. Michelle slamming of the apartment door behind her went unnoticed by Bart.

"What's happening, Dad?" Trev had walked out of his bedroom, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light in the lounge. "Why is Mum upset? Where has she gone?"

"Your mother still doesn't believe me about Nate being in ancient Rome." He had always been open with his children about Nate and Rome, and they believed him despite their mother's vehement rejection of the evidence. They quickly learned to keep it within the family though, because they were ridiculed at school when they mentioned it.

"How is Scaevola? I haven't talked to him for a while."

"You talk to Scaevola? Don't you mean you text him?"

"I do both."

"How do you talk to him with the speed difference? Nate and I can never understand each other. I'm too fast for him, and he's too slow for me."

"You record what you want to say and send it through. Easy."

I'm a Neandertech. "So what do you talk to Scaevola about, and how did you get his number?"

"I used your phone one day, and we exchanged numbers, and...you know. We don't talk about much."

I need to be more careful where I leave my phone. "Haven't you got school tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'm going back to bed now. Good night, Dad."

"Good night, mate." I wonder how much he knows about sex. I should have a talk with him. I can't do any worse than Nate did with Scaevola. Probably too late, though. He guzzled some more beer and watched some more footy, "Bullshit ref, that wasn't a penalty," while he searched for his phone. Where is it? Where's Michelle? Oh shit. Don't tell me she's taken it to the coppers. She could have me arrested as a paedophile's accomplice.

She had, and he was. In her righteous outrage Michelle hadn't thought about that. The police, whose station was a mere one hundred metres north of their apartment on Paul's Corner, took Bart in for questioning regarding Nate's activities. They not only suspected him of being a paedophile, they also suspected he was psychotic for believing Nate was in ancient Rome.

Days of questioning followed. The police and psychiatrists questioned him, some wanker in sunglasses from the Australian spy network ASIO questioned him, and finally an American who would not give his identity came to see him. The American opened the conversation with, "We believe you, sir."

"What?"

"We believe you, sir."

"Why? No one else believes me, not even my nosy wife who got me into this mess believes me, and yet you, someone I've never even seen before, waltzes in and says, 'I believe you.' So why should I believe you when you say you believe me?"

The man's "people" had traced Nate's location via his phone. They had sent two agents to Rome to find him and failed, despite Nate's movements being very, very slow. They were confused, and the only explanation that correlated was, to their dismay, Bart's.

"So what happens now?"

"You can go home, sir."

"No way."

"Excuse me?"

"There's no way I'm going home to tell my disbelieving wife that the coppers have figured out that Nate really is in ancient Rome, and that she has to believe me, because she won't. You're coming with me, and you can explain it to her."

The man did as Bart asked and Michelle remained a non-believer.

The Time Navigation Authority now covertly tracked every message and conversation Bart, Nate, Scaevola, and Glade made, and watched their movements through their phone cameras. They even dropped in on Scaevola's English friend Saxby. The TNA observed the incorrect timelines, watched famous people, and marvelled at Glade flying on his Shield. Historians were consulted to review their findings and technicians engaged to check equipment. Everything pointed to Nate being in ancient Rome. Yet, historically, the ancient world was a mess.

# Chapter 28

# A Walk and a Chat with Aelia

##

## Ancient Rome - February 27, 41 CE

## The Future - July 16, 2075

"Can I lick the spoon, Nate?" Aquilinus was in the kitchen helping Nate mix the ingredients for a honey cake; eggs, flour, honey, and milk. It was the seventh hour, an hour after midday.

"I will lick your spoon if you lick my dish," Fulvia whispered in Nate's ear.

When he wasn't staying at a friend's house, Aquilinus was Nate's shield, unwittingly protecting his big brother from Fulvia's frenetic fondling. It had been six months since she had witnessed Nate and Pomponia together in the foyer of Aelia's villa, and despite his outburst in the kitchen when he dropped a large plate, the passing of time had only intensified her attempts to consummate her shameless desires.

Leaving the kitchen and Fulvia's harassment, Nate took Aqua into the little shop at the front of the villa. Aelia had allowed him to use it in exchange for a modest rent. Sales of wax, soap and potion were trending up.

"Hi, Scaevola."

"Hi, Aqua. Did you cook up a storm with Fulvia?" Scaevola removed his micro earpiece and discretely pushed it back into his phone; he secreted it in a pocket of his tunic and enjoyed listening to the music of the future.

"I made a yummy cake. Nate told me to put in some nuts, and I put in some dried fruit too."

"He's a regular little chef. How are sales going?"

Intensive lessons with Philandros had improved Nate's conversational Italian. His accent was still thick, but improving. Publius was sending Amanda to Philandros too, and being able to hold conversations with each other had helped their relationship.

"Too many sales for the stock we have. We have no wax, the soap is low and the potion goes as quickly as you make it. One lady became aggressive when I had no wax to sell."

"Did you send her to the Forum?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I want customers to buy from me. I receive no commission if they buy elsewhere. I asked her to return tomorrow."

Nate sat down on the bench chair they used to retrieve items from the high shelves and shook his head. The boy knows how to look after himself. "I'll have Lucius increase the daily order."

More customers came and went through the store, mostly women, buying soap and looking disappointed they could purchase no wax. Nate was about to leave when red and white ribbons caught his eye.

"Julia ... my goddess." Shit! I said that out loud.

He called me a goddess. Oh Venus, please help me stay calm. "Hello, Nate. It lovely day inside." I hope that was correct.

"Julia, you...did you...you can speak English?" Why would she learn English?

"Did I speak correctly? Was that a proper greeting?"

"You spoke my awkward language perfectly. Where did you learn it?"

"I use...Greek man."

"Philandros. Is he your teacher?"

"Yes he is. Am I really doing well? You are not just saying that?"

"Very well." The cunning bastard. I've been teaching him English, and I'd say he's been charging Julia for lessons. Who cares? She has taken the trouble to learn. She must like me. GOD I'M EXCITED. He looked down at his feet, trying to calm himself. I should have worn a better tunic. Aelia allowed him to buy his clothes with his money, although she still required the family emblem on his breast.

"Aquilinus. Stay with Scaevola, please." Nate returned his attention to Julia, captivated by her hazel eyes as he had been in the Forum. So beautiful.

"Nate."

"Not now, Scaevola."

"But Nate..." He is not listening.

I am hungry, Aquilinus thought, and skipped away to satisfy his belly.

"What are you drinking? I mean..." calm down. "I mean would you like a drink? Perhaps some watered wine? I have an excellent selection from Pompeii." Not wanting to appear an idiot the next time he had a chance to speak with her, Nate had searched website after website on how to speak with women. Be confident and don't say the first thing that comes to mind. I hope she doesn't want wine. Wine was kept in the kitchen with Fulvia.

"No, thank you," Julia said through a shy smile as she twisted a strand of hair through her fingers.

Thank Christ for that. She's doing the hair thing again. The web says that's a good sign.

"I was hoping to buy some of your wax, however I overheard you are out of stock. Is that correct?"

"Nate, Maaamma wan you." Aquilinus had walked back into the shop with a mouthful of cake, cake on his face, and all over his hands. He swallowed. "She said the emperor's horse has invited you to dinner tonight."

She continues to twirl her hair.

"Nate!" Scaevola gave him a light punch on the shoulder, and punched him harder when the first one did not work.

Nate narrowed his eyes on Scaevola. "What?"

Aquilinus repeated himself.

"The emperor's horse..."

Initially taken aback, Nate remembered from Tina's readings that Caligula would send dinner invitations in the name of his favourite horse. "Not now, Aquilinus."

"But Nate, Mamma says you have to come now."

Bending down to his little brother, he whispered behind his hand, "Piss off. I am busy," and looked back up to his goddess.

Aquilinus stood with his mouth open, mushy cake on his tongue. His biggest brother, the brother he was so proud of, had sent him away. Aqua moved to stand next to Scaevola, who ruffled his hair, next walked past the woman, who also ruffled his hair, and finally past Nate who paid no attention to him at all. Aqua returned to his Mamma.

"Very impressive. A dinner invitation from the emperor." Julia smiled.

"Not as impressive as your stunning looks." SHUT UP. "Unfortunately we are out of wax."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that." What do I say now? I have waited to gather my courage to see him, and I never thought of what to say when I did. I am such a fool. I wish I was like the other girls with their confidant ways, and I wish my bottom was smaller so he would find it attractive. That is it! "Do you have anything to help me lose weight?"

"Why? You are perf..." oh fuck, oh shit, sorry mum, "I do not think you need to lose weight. If you were any slimmer you would lose your beautiful shape."

He thinks my shape is beautiful!

Why does she turn away? Have I said too much?

Take a deep breath and calm yourself...now... leave confidently and leave him wanting more; that is what I heard Porcia say to the girls. Julia turned back to face him. "It has been a pleasure talking to you, and perhaps we can meet again soon. Googday," she finished in English.

"I too hope we meet again soon. It has been so long since I last saw you."

"Yes, I am sorry. My friends advised me it would be safer for both of us if we did not meet again. But I know your language now, a little, and I just had to see you...to see if I could talk to you." Do not stay too long. Leave him wanting more.

"I have been advised against seeing you also."

Yes, you have so stop talking to her, dickhead.

"But let's not concern ourselves with others. I could give you lessons, language lessons. I would enjoy it," more than you could know.

I would love that. "I will think on it. Googday."

"Googday!" Nate's heart rose and collapsed at the same time as she walked out the door.

"Nate. I have told you about her before."

Nate moved to the doorway and out into the street to watch his graceful goddess walk out of his life towards the Forum. Her colourful ribbons were blowing in the breeze, adding a touch of wildness to her refined beauty. Her thick winter tunic was unable to hide the sway of her hips, nor her bottom wobbling seductively beneath it. And she thinks she's fat? No way. I'm drunk on your elegance, Julia.

Glancing over her shoulder, she found Nate's eyes on her bottom. Perhaps he does like me the way I am. Should I? She bit her lip and looked forward. The girls do.

Wow. I love the way she moves.

Julia glanced over her shoulder again to see his eyes burning into her bottom, continuing to sway her hips until he looked up into her eyes. Goodbye Nate. I feel so wicked.

"Nate. NATE." Standing in the doorway of the shop, Scaevola was worried. Your eyes are on the wrong woman.

When Nate's body finally walked back into the shop, his mind was still following Julia down the street. "What a woman. She is bodacious. I am in love, and she knows I love her bottom."

"Bo what?" Still unable to get his friend's attention, Scaevola tried something else. "You cannot fall in love with her, Nate. Her husband will not like it."

"She's married?"

"Yes. She is married to the city of Rome."

"Married to Rome?"

"She is a Vestal Virgin, Nate. I have told you that before. It is like being married to Rome. Do not even think about having sex with her. Men who have sex with a Vestal are whipped to death, and the Vestal is punished by being buried alive. It is bad luck to spill a Vestal's blood. Do you want to be flogged to death? Do you want her to die of starvation?"

"There'll be a way around that. Was Aquilinus here? Am I supposed to do something?"

"Yes. Aelia wants to see you."

"Did Aqua tell me that?"

"Yes, and you should have listened."

As he walked out, Nate told Scaevola to close the shop and visit Lucius to increase the daily order.

"I thought you were going to do that?"

"If you want to get paid, do it!"

XXVIII

"Did you speak with Nate, Aquilinus?" Aelia was sitting in a cushioned chair in the garden, enjoying the soft winter sun.

"Piss off, I am busy," Aqua said as he walked forlornly towards his room.

"I beg your pardon, young man. You will not speak like that to me. Come back here."

"Well that is what Nate said to me."

"I see. Does he normally speak to you like that?"

"No."

"Then why now?"

"I do not know. He was speaking to a lady with ribbons in her hair and he did not want me there."

"I shall have a word with him. Come and sit with your Mamma." Aelia patted her thighs and he climbed aboard. "What colour were her ribbons?"

"Red and white."

"Oh... I see." Aelia tapped a ring on her chair.

XXVIII

"Enjoy your cooking?" Pomponia crossed paths with Nate. She knew he was being harassed by Fulvia every time he helped in the kitchen; he was required to assist now that Marcellina and Marcia were gone.

"No," Nate said, looking straight ahead as he walked towards to her.

It was not my fault, boy, she thought with her hands on her hips, and if you continue to blame me for the girl's death I will do my best to convince Aelia to sell you. I have no need of you if you have no need for me. "I have no reason to show contrition. It was not my fault."

"It was both our fault. If we'd been more careful you would not have sold them, and the girls would still be here, alive." Am I being too hard? Without her he may never have thought of the potion. While the sales of wax and soap were profitable, without the potion's success Julia may never be within reach.

"If I could bring them back I would." She looked down her nose at his back. Why does the thought of him squeeze my heart so? "I can sell you."

Nate shrugged and did not look back. Yes, but you won't. I'm certain I remind Aelia of her son.

It was not so long ago that I thought our hearts were entwined. What an old fool I have been. If only Venus would gift his love to me.

XXVIII

"A little slower, a little slower, oh yes, keep going, keep going." He takes care not to hurt me, and he had the oil ready. He wants to please me.

This is the last time I am having sex with you, Pomponia. And if I'd known it was going to take this long I wouldn't have started. Nate had briefly researched the technique on the net the night before, knowing he would not be able to perform with their role in Marcellina's death weighing heavily on his mind.

He has not taken his beautiful blue eyes from mine; the connection is so intense.

On her back on her bed, a pillow behind her head and knees to her chest, Pomponia flicked her eyes down to her crotch, up to meet Nate's eyes, and nodded.

She wants me to keep going. Good. The sooner this is over the better. I'm sick of looking at her.

The bulk of his hand is almost in...almost...almost...yes. Oh yes. Those eyes. I have had his body for months, and now I think I have his heart. "Aarghh."

"Does it hurt?"

"Exquisitely." Pomponia pushed down, arched her back, opened her mouth and shuddered, and shuddered, and shuddered. He leaves his hand there. He does not want this to end either. I think at long last I have someone who loves me.

Now to retrieve my hand. I could rip it out, I guess. No. That would hurt her. A moment of haste can liberate an eternity of grief.

XXVIII

"Good afternoon, Mistress. I hear we are going to dinner." Aquilinus was on her lap and Nate scuffed up his hair.

"Piss off; I am busy."

Did she say that? "I thought you wanted to see me."

"Yes, I do. That is why I sent Aquilinus to ask his beloved big brother to come to me, and I believe his big brother told him to, 'Piss off; I am busy.' Is that correct?"

"Sorry, Aqua. My mind was on something else." I'll need to make it up to him. He looks forlorn.

"Who was the woman that so captured your attention that you ignored my calling for you?"

She's tapping her finger. "I do not know her full name."

"Do you know what she is?"

"Scaevola said she is a Vestal Virgin."

"Do you know what that means?"

"It means I have to move carefully."

"No, it does not. It means you do not move at all. Do you understand? That is not a request. You will not go approach the Vestal again. The health of Rome depends upon the continued burning of the sacred flame, and she is one who tends that flame. Do you understand?"

"I understand," but I'll not stay away.

XXVIII

Aelia and Nate walked side by side along the Tiber, engaged in conversation as they made their way to the palace for dinner. They were shielded against the winter chill by thick woollen cloaks; the sounds of birds echoed in leafless trees that gently swayed in a light breeze, while merchant boats plied their trade on the river. It was not a direct route to their destination, but the meandering path opened an avenue to mutual understanding. A topic they both enjoyed was Aquilinus.

"I am filled with joy when watching him. His face kindles memories of my father, and his hair ignites memories of my brother. I hope you enjoy being his brother, Nate. You are a hero in his eyes."

"After today I think I'll need to lift my game if I am to maintain his admiration."

"We all make mistakes, but yes, you did hurt his feelings today. However, I have heard him boast to his friends of his wild barbarian brother who hails from a land no Roman has seen, who fights with gladiators, takes him camping, and allows him to fly with the Leluuwahn. He is very proud of you."

"As I am of him. I enjoyed watching him fly with Glade. I only wished I was his size too."

"Glade is a nice person, and I should have confidence in his ability to keep Aquilinus safe."

"You speak as if you know him."

"Aquilinus speaks well of him." I should be more careful. A cold gust of wind pierced Aelia's cloak and she pulled it close, watching as the breeze skipped ahead to flutter the branches of nearby trees as if spreading word of her impious exploits to a world eager for gossip.

"I realise it has not been long since you lost your husband, Aquilinus' father, but have you thought of remarrying so that he may have a father?" She turns her back on me. I've gone too far.

The question had raised memories of the loss of her familia; the grief she had thought conquered close to shattering her fragile veneer. Losing a loved one is dispiriting. Losing all but one of her familia in a violent event had cut Aelia's heart. If I had not had Aquilinus to hold, not had him to love, I may not have survived. If only I had found a way to keep my second son.

The loss of her husband, Quintus, had diminished her socially rather than emotionally. I could remarry as he suggests; there has been no shortage of suitors knocking on my door seeking to control the familia fortune. None of them I could trust.

"Are you offering your hand in marriage, to become his father?"

Shit. "No mistress. I...I was only thinking of Aquilinus."

"I toy with you." She placed a hand on his arm. "You do seem to have assumed a fatherly role at times, with your talk of swords and the uses for a woman's 'no pee pee,' as Aquilinus calls it."

"He told you about that, did he?" Bugger. "I meant no harm. I answered as best I could when he asked."

"There is no problem, Nate. After you returned from your camping trip, he also asked questions of me, and it was the one time I wished for a husband to take control. The desire was short lived. I have everything I want and need and have no desire to bring a new man into my life." As far as the answer went, it was honest, but she knew she would want more in the future. While her base needs were being met, her desire for a partner would resurface. Perhaps when Aquilinus matures.

Good. A new master might curtail my liberties, and my businesses.

"I admit that I do at times yearn for the prestige that comes with being the wife of an important man. My time with Quintus was uplifting. His appointment as governor of Syria was enjoyable. Although our journey there was uncomfortable, the people we met, the food we tasted, the customs we experienced, and the strange lands we visited made it worthwhile. A female cannot experience such things alone. For that, she must be in the company of a man."

"What a different world this is. In my time, women are the equals of men and can aspire to any office in the land."

"Your time? Do you not mean your land?"

I should be more careful. "Rome is so different to Australia. Perhaps the women of Rome could pressure their husbands to select a female emperor."

You hold some knowledge in reserve, young man, though I prefer to focus on your confidence in Roman women. "It would take not only a strong woman, of whom we have many, but also a change of attitude from our men. That may require an outside influence. For now, for myself, I can and have maintained a high social status through sponsoring small public monuments and the occasional games where I sit with senators and their wives. It is a reminder of my previous standing with Quintus. Milonia's position now far exceeds my own, where once it had been the reverse. Do not misunderstand me. Because of the poor quality of the man she has wed, I am not covetous of her position. But I cannot deny that having a powerful husband is alluring to some women."

Alluring to others, not you?

Aelia had been surprised by Milonia's subdued marriage ceremony, a break with tradition. No rituals, no sacrifices, and no request to the gods for their blessings. They had not even transferred a torch to the palace from the hearth at Milonia's villa. To most in Rome the marriage, which had occurred only hours before, was only rumour. Aelia had received a note requesting her attendance shortly after she received tonight's dinner invitation.

"In what ways do you consider yourself to be different to other women, Mistress?" I'm enjoying this conversation.

"Upon losing a husband, most Roman women would seek another immediately. A woman's standing is determined by her husband. Without one, a woman is simply another chattel of her father. With neither husband nor father, I have survived."

"You have done well. It is a strange twist where the loss of most things you love allows you to show your inner worth." She turns away again at the mention of her family. Change the subject. "I enjoy attending the Senate. Before I arrived in Rome I wanted to make something of my life. I have listened to the likes of Cicero, listened to the debates that rage back and forth, and my ambition is to become a Senator. I want to have a hand in the great public works of Rome; become someone that history remembers and admires, perhaps even be instrumental in the abolition of slavery."

"Rome's economy, and with that society, would disintegrate if slavery were abolished. And your ambition for high office can never be achieved. Slaves and freedmen cannot hold office within the empire."

"But if I am freed or buy my freedom, what then?" He knew the answer but wanted to make a point.

"None who have been a slave may hold office in Rome. It is the law."

"Are all laws always obeyed?"

"Always."

"How are Vestals appointed? Must they be young and virginal before they enter the Temple?"

"From your question I see you are aware that Caligula has appointed his sisters to the Temple, despite their age and the questionable purity of at least two. To some extent emperors can do as they please. They can defy laws, although showing too little regard for too many laws can lead to their downfall. I hope you are not planning to ask the emperor for favours regarding the Vestal with whom you are smitten?"

"No, Mistress," Nate lied, and changed the subject. "Will you be replacing Marcia and Marcellina, Mistress? It's been some time since they departed."

"The information you gave me weighs heavily on my heart. Given those events, I am experiencing difficulty deciding on that subject. If left to Pomponia, we would have new slave girls by now. I understand Marcellina's fate has caused problems between you and Pomponia. Do you think you will be able to overcome those problems?"

"I would prefer to find someone closer to my age." The exact age of Julia.

"Yes. The relationship does not seem one bound for longevity. I see and hear that your business ventures leap from success to success. I have purchased your soap, on advice from Milonia, and my skin is softer with a delightful bouquet. I can understand why it is so popular. Do you have plans for the wealth you are creating?" I do. I shall see it invested in more than pastimes, young man.

Interesting she didn't mention the wax she purchased. Word had come to him from Lucius that Aelia had bought wax in the Forum. "I deposit it with a banker at the Forum, recommended to me by Lucius. Lucius is very well connected. What I do spend, I spend on dining with my friends, language lessons, and gladiator training at the Ludus Magnus."

"Your language lessons have worked wonders, so much so that Pomponia believes we have no further need of Scaevola's services. Do not concern yourself with that," she said quickly, seeing the beginnings of his protest. "Aquilinus would not allow it."

"Good. We argue, but I would miss him if he were gone."

"I see you also enjoy quality footwear and clothing. Those sandals appear expensive."

They were. The sandals had leather straps rising to his knees to hide his scar, and the material of his tunic cost more than most citizens could afford. And your shoes that I'm holding don't look inexpensive. Nate was carrying red leather shoes that were imitations of Amanda's. He carried them to ensure Aelia's footwear was clean for the dinner party. "May I ask another question, Mistress?" She responded with a nod. "The first day when we met in the tent, which was of greater interest to you: myself and Amanda, or Amanda's shoes?"

"It was, without doubt, the shoes." Aelia smiled. "I love shoes, and I especially love high heels. I had seen none such quality before." If you had asked of my interest before entering the tent, the answer would have been you.

"Why do women love shoes so much?"

"Do you not like the sight of a woman in high heels?"

"I can't say I know why, but yes, women do look more alluring in heels."

"That is why we love them, because men love us in them. A high-heeled shoe raises a woman's heel to give the impression she is in movement, yet it makes her look delicate by reducing the length of her stride. They also lift her buttocks and lengthen her legs. All aspects combined, they increase our attraction for men."

"I hadn't thought of all that before. I simply admire the female art form when they wear them."

Aelia raised her eyebrows, smiled and continued. "Nate, though I have instructed you to be a big brother to Aquilinus, it is very nice of you to take him with you when you dine with your friends. He talks to me of it each week, and the social networking and business contacts it provides him will be invaluable when he matures."

"My pleasure. I enjoy having him with me."

"And your manners have been improving along with your speech. Does your tutor assist you there too?"

"He does, Mistress." Although Philandros could use some manners when dealing with Amanda. In Amanda's presence Philandros made constant reference to his romantic conquests. If he tries something with Julia I'll beat the shit out of him before someone else flogs him for touching a vestal.

"Your gladiator training is of concern to me. Do you intend making it your profession, in addition to your senatorial aspirations? Please know that I will not give permission for you to fight in the arena, although I am sure your skills will be given the best chance for improvement at the Ludus. I understand it is the finest such facility in the city."

"A gladiator's life, and death, is not for me, Mistress. It was my experience on my first day, not a desire to become a hero that encouraged me to learn the fighting skills needed for survival in your world. Aquilinus and Scaevola come with me also." And who knows, it may help me with Julia.

"Yes, I am aware, and I appreciate your generosity in paying for them. Although there have been times I have thought otherwise, I believe you have been a good acquisition, Nate."

I'm an acquisition. I guess that's a compliment but... "What are they doing?" He pointed towards a group of men with flutes.

"It would seem the refining of your manners is not yet complete."

"Excuse me, Mistress. Could you please tell me what those men with the flutes are doing?"

"They are from the Guild of Flute Players. If I have been informed correctly by Pomponia, they are on strike."

"They have a guild? May I ask why flute players need a guild, Mistress? And why would their guild need to strike?"

"Flute players are needed for the proper conduct of religious ceremonies. They strike because they have not been allowed their annual feast at the Temple of Jupiter."

"They are sulking?"

"I do not know what you mean."

"Down in the mouth, out of sorts, grumpy."

"Grumpy. They are grumpy; your other sayings are new to me. They will go back to work soon, probably after they are bribed with food and wine."

There were dozens of guild members enjoying themselves, and the smell of alcohol was heavy in the air. Aelia lifted a small ball of amber to her nose.

"Perhaps they will return to work soon. Mistress, could you please tell me if I am coming to this dinner as your slave, as a novelty from Ohstrayla, or have I been invited for my services in helping the emperor with his problem?"

"Your first speculation is not correct as your name was on the invitation. As to the other possibilities you quote, either, both, or neither could be correct. You should not question why the emperor invites you to dinner; you should be honoured that you have been invited and must at all times be judicious with your words."

"Yes. I suppose I will discover his reason soon enough." I hope this isn't going to be an orgy. I doubt a slave would have a choice of partners. "If he speaks to me, how should I address him? Caligula, Emperor, Caesar, or Madman?"

Aelia gave him a level stare. "Caesar or Emperor, nothing else, and bow your head. Give him insolence, young man, and you may forfeit your life. Say nothing unless you are spoken to." Aelia looked away from Nate to the riverbank where two young lovers sat at the base of a tree with a sheep. "An interesting trio." The man sat with his back to a squat tree, his right arm and the tree's extended canopy providing shelter from the descending evening to a curvaceous woman snuggling her brunette mane against his chest, her legs made longer by her heels. The sheep rested its head on the man's lap.

Is that ... yes it is. The man from the amphitheatrum. Lucky again. He lives my dream; a simple life shared with a good woman. How long until they have children?

The remainder of their walk was conducted in comfortable silence, both in their own thoughts. Aelia looked forward to seeing Milonia, mulling over what it would be like to have so few inhibitions to be so publicly wanton, while hoping her friend's clothing would befit an empress. Nate's thoughts alternated between Julia, the lucky man, and hoping Caligula would not ask for the secret of his potion, all the while anxious that an amorous senator may seek commune with his arse.

XXVII

Was that ... yes it was. The slave from the amphitheatrum. Probably off to a feast with his mistress, the rich and the powerful. Such evenings would have been mine if Father had not squandered our fortune, though not as a slave, or to deliver fresh pastries. Varius kissed the top of his lady's head, scratched behind the ears of the friend on his lap, and lay his head back against the tree to lament to the starlit sky, Oh, Father. Why could you not show moderation?

# Chapter 29

# Dinner with the Emperor

##

## Ancient Rome - February 27, 41 CE

## The Future - July 24, 2075

Aelia and Nate were the last dinner guests to arrive, guided to their places by a pretty young Arabic girl who scurried away after showing them to their stools, their backs to the room's entry. All other guests were reclining on marble lounges scattered with richly embroidered, colourful cushions. With its high ceiling, mosaic floor, and larger than life artworks, the room was designed to overpower.

Interesting how Aelia makes no eye contact with the other guests. Perhaps I should keep my eyes down. Cicero and Spartacus are here. The two historic celebrities were lounging at the other end of the table, and Nate was keen for an opportunity to speak with them, especially Cicero. The man directly to Nate's right was sitting on his lounge chair rather than reclining across it, and he greeted Nate with a smile and a nod. Who might you be? For the time being Nate heeded Aelia's advice and kept his mouth shut.

A blast of trumpets announced the entry of their hosts. Aelia and Nate twisted on their seats to see Milonia leading a horse and riders into the hall.

"Oh no." Aelia looked to her lap, one hand across her mouth. Her hopes for a chastened Milonia were dashed—her friend wore a translucent, purple silk dress.

"A God on Earth is among us," a shiny little fat man announced with a sneer, his arms dangling at his sides as he walked, his arched back and oh so short neck making his watermelon-shaped head appear to grow from his chest. Below his chest ballooned and amplified stomach. Nate remembered him from the amphitheatrum. What did Publius and Lucius call that hunchback? They didn't like him.

"Welcome, my friends." From his perch on the back of Incitatus, Caligula peered down his nose like a bird of prey at his guests, in his talons a naked, doe-eyed Leluuwahn girl clinging to his waist from behind.

She's the same girl as before. She must be Sarai. Glade is probably hovering over us right now.

Caligula dismounted and held out his arms for Sarai to fall into. He carried her on his hip to a lounge at the middle of the table to sit beside a woman decorated with florid jewellery, her cream dress a reflection of Milonia's purple.

That woman looks expensive. Nate was not keeping his eyes down.

Milonia threw the reins of the horse at a slave before she reclined on the lounge nearest Aelia.

"He looks so well, Aelia. We are certain it is your slave's potion that has transformed him." Milonia's eyes never left her man.

Caligula stood behind Sarai with his hands resting upon her bare shoulders. He refused Milonia even a glance. "Incitatus is pleased to see you have accepted his invitation to feast with us tonight. We are sure you will enjoy the delights that have been prepared for you, and trust that the entertainment will be to your liking, whichever way you are inclined." Caligula swept a theatrical hand towards the doorway.

Three naked women...

Two were with Julia in the Forum. Her friends are prostitutes? And the other is oriental? Straight black hair and almond shaped eyes. I didn't know Rome had contact with Asia.

...and three naked men were led into the room on leashes controlled by a matronly keeper.

Nate's eyes ran a course across the women's naked, curvaceous bodies. They would be more alluring in lingerie. I could start with a range of push-up leather bras and G-strings. Maybe the bra could be called a nate. My name will be forever synonymous with women's breasts. Another name for a G-string would be good too, and maybe a brand name to market them under.

It was obvious how the leashes were attached to the men, tied around their genitals at the base. It was not so evident with the females, their leashes terminating within their vaginas. The matron dropped their leashes, allowing the six to walk free, their chains dragging between their legs as they moved in equal numbers along either side of the table.

No matter how the women's leashes were attached, to Nate it was unmistakable that this dinner was to become a famed Roman orgy. He and Aelia wanted no part in it; Aelia having need to guard her reputation, and Nate having fallen for his Vestal.

In flowed wave after wave of scantily clad slaves, pirouetting as they held silver platters laden with seafood and meat above them, lacing the room with aromas of roasted garlic and freshly baked bread. The length of the ornate marble table was quickly covered in raw oysters, lobsters, fish with staring eyes, crabs with huge claws, whole wild boars, loaves of bread, and birds with eggs placed tightly around them. Aelia explained that the eggs belonged to the birds, and judging by the feathers, the one in front of Cicero is a peacock. Wow. The main looks amazing. I can't wait for dessert.

"You may ask, is this just another banquet, just another feast to gorge and indulge yourself until you are bursting with drink and passion?" Caligula clutched Sarai's breasts as he spoke. "Well...is it?"

"It appears you are working up to an announcement, great Caesar."

What was that hunchback's name?

"As you know well, Licinius," Caligula replied, bringing a smug grin to the little man's face.

Licinius! Now I remember. Little brown-noser.

"But I have three announcements, not one. Before that, however," Caligula reached out for his empty goblet to be filled by a fawning slave, "it would be rude of me not to introduce my guests to each other. While I am sure many of you are already well acquainted, and will be more so after tonight, there are others who are not."

As a good host should, Nate thought.

"I shall keep the introductions brief, as I do not wish to bore myself."

You prick!

"To my left I have two guests related in different ways to the amphitheatrum. I give you Rabirius, its architect. On his left is the famed gladiator Spartacus, who, as you can see, has not received my thumbs down...yet."

"Nice muscles." Licinius pursed his lips as he ogled the gladiator.

Yes, his muscles are adorable. Aelia could not help admiring them.

Rabirius, by comparison, with his comfortable waistline looked like any other middle-aged man, his only memorable feature being his nose. It looks large enough to park a chariot under. Nate tried not to stare.

"At the end of my table, again to my left, is General Vespasian, former consul and governor of Africa."

"And mule-trader," Licinius quipped, throwing back his head to cackle at what he considered a joke, his multiple chins wobbling furiously. The only one to accompany him in his mirth was a portly man to his left. Vespasian had once engaged in the mule trade when his finances had been brittle.

"Our armies need mules, not hot air." Vespasian had a strong chin and a face Nate felt could be trusted, reminiscent of his son Titus, the prefect of Rome, and Uncle by friendship to Aquilinus.

Vespasian and Aelia exchanged greetings with their eyes and held up their cups of wine to each other. She knows him of course, Nate thought.

Caligula moved on without introducing the beautiful woman beside Vespasian. She wore the same silk garment as Milonia, except in red. She looks to be as much of a whore as Milonia. Nate noticed Aelia also make brief eye contact with the woman; brief but long enough to say the two knew each other.

"To his left you will find Rome's renowned philosopher, Cicero."

"Show us your muscles, philosopher. Are they as sculpted and scored as the gladiator's?" Licinius and his rotund friend exchanged smirks, each with a hand on the other's thigh.

"You would like me to show you the result of a philosopher's muscular training?"

"And what muscles might you have?" Licinius scoffed. He looked around for support and the man beside him was again his only ally.

"Evils avoided, careful resolutions made, and unerring decisions." A man with few muscles, Cicero's strength was an agile mind.

"Well said," the unknown man beside Nate added quietly. Only Nate heard the comment, and another man materialised to stand behind the unknown man.

"To the left of Cicero," Caligula announced, smiling at the barbs his guests threw at each other, "is Hippocrates, a Greek physician who could not provide help when I needed it. You, Hippocrates, have been invited tonight to be given the opportunity to expand your knowledge with a guest I shall introduce shortly."

Hippocrates raised an eyebrow and looked around the room.

Oh shit. That's probably me. Don't ask me how I make it. Nate squirmed on his stool.

"I now introduce Licinius, a senator, a friend, a valued advisor, and a man of wit."

Licinius looked down his nose at everyone. "Thank you, Gaius. I am pleased that MY advice to establish courtesans in the palace and on Lake Nemi has helped to improve the imperial purse." And if I had your power, Gaius, I would achieve more.

"The raising of taxes in Judea was also the advice of Licinius," the fat little man beside Licinius added, his chest puffed out with pride.

Declining morals and rebellion in Judea are the legacies of a fool's advice, and many good men will die because of you. Vespasian gave Licinius a hard stare.

"That man is lewd, crude, and thinks he is shrewd," Aelia said to Nate, leaning towards him, "though the last he is not." She turned her head away from the table banter, nose in the air.

"Next, I introduce Eprius and Aulus. Why Incitatus invited them, I do not know." Eprius was the fat little man beside Licinius. Aulus was lithe and handsome, and looked out of place with the other two.

Caligula's introductions decay as they progress, and I'll probably be last.

"Continuing around the table and to the left of those two is Tacitus the historian, whom I am sure will write well of me if he wishes his family to live." Tacitus gave an ingratiating smile.

Next is the unknown man.

"To my right is my lascivious wife, Milonia, whom I am sure some of you know." The statement brought recognition to the faces of most in the room that the rumours were true; there had been a wedding.

He missed the man, and Aelia. I won't rate a mention, although he said he would.

Throughout the introductions, Caligula fondled Sarai's breasts like worry beads, rolling her nipples between his fingers. Having introduced Milonia, he moved behind her to pull on her nipples too, and they responded to his touch. Milonia revelled in his attention and that of those watching. After some time with a hand on each woman, the emperor continued the introductions.

"To the right of my wife is her friend the Lady Aelia, who has for tonight's feast generously donated wine from her familia's extensive and meritorious cellar. To Lady Aelia's right is her slave from exotic Ohstrayla who goes by the name of Nate." The realisation that they would be eating with a slave caused many of the faces at the table to turn abruptly. "I have asked him to dine with us tonight, because he has helped the god who stands before you to repair an affliction. Hippocrates, you need speak with him." Hippocrates nodded to Nate, recognising him as a patient, and pondered Nate's medical abilities.

Eyes widened and faces softened around the table, and the man next to Nate smiled and whispered, "Well done."

Who are you? Nate wondered, returning the smile.

"Caesar, with your permission, may I add that my son Titus informed me your guest Nate is also the man who, in fair battle, defeated Laurentius, champion of the second legion. It was a remarkable feat." Wide eyes turned narrow and looked at Nate sideways. The defeat of a legion champion was noteworthy.

"Brains and brawn." Licinius licked the rim of his wine glass and leered at Nate. Foreign lovers can be so spicy.

Caligula stiffened; his voice raised. "I must thank you for exposing my ignorance."

Milonia sought to calm her husband with a hand under his toga and a small bag which he raised to his nose.

"What's in the bag?" Nate asked Aelia quietly.

"Milonia will not say, though I have once been close to it. It has a smoke riddled odour."

"With his curved spine and short neck, why was Licinius not sent to the Lost at birth, mistress?"

"Many in his familia have similar problems."

"They can find women, looking like that?"

"There are no women in their familia, only males, and they are..."

"No women?"

"They are as unfortunate in character as they are in form. They make use of our system. I shall explain later." She held a finger to her lips.

Caligula dropped the bag in Milonia's lap and continued. "Perhaps his skills will be of use to you in the near future, General." Caligula produced a strained smile.

My skills of use to a general?

"And now for my announcements...Oh, I am so sorry, Uncle. I have missed you. My sincere apologies. Last and by all means least, next to the foreign slave, I introduce my Uncle Claudius. I am sure he is known to you all. Please do not anger or upset him as it may inflict his stammering upon us all."

Claudius! I'm sitting beside the next emperor of Rome. Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn't; who knows if Tina's readings will prove correct in this world. Claudius had seemed a nice man before his introduction. Now his head is wobbling and the man behind him is massaging his shoulders.

"Thank you, Narcissus."

Narcissus! Claudius' famous assistant and advisor. This is quite a gathering.

"And now I have finished with the obligatory pleasantries, I announce and celebrate the appointment of General Vespasian to command three of my legions, and various other military groups," Caligula said with a dismissive flick of his hand, "to quell the revolt in Judea."

"The mule trader's appointment was not on my advice," Licinius whispered not so quietly to Eprius.

All eyes went to Licinius then to Vespasian, who with a goblet in hand rose to his feet to offer a toast to the emperor, an office history said he would one day occupy. Once again, the timeline issues gave Nate cause to think otherwise. As emperor, Vespasian would become famous for commencing construction of the amphitheatrum; however, it was already complete. Vespasian would also win renown for assisting in the Roman invasion of Britannia, but with the invasion of Britannia occurring prior to the Judean campaign, Nate wondered if the Britannia campaign had already occurred or whether Rome, in this timeline, would invade Britain at all. Scaevola knew slaves from there. The most unfortunate outcome of Vespasian's rule as emperor was his imposition of a tax on public toilets, from which his name was to be forever linked to them by the word "vespasiano," or urinal. A trifle unfair, Nate thought.

"To you, Caesar. May victories and veneration follow you through history."

They followed and preceded him, but rarely were they for him.

Goblets were raised to the toast.

"Let us hope you make better use of your opportunity in Judea than you did in keeping our streets clean. You would not have been my choice to lead our legions." Licinius was referring to Vespasian's time in the minor magistrates, where he had been charged with maintaining Rome's hygiene.

"So rude," Claudius murmured.

Vespasian ignored his critic.

"Now, this is what we have to do, people. In Judea..."

"While your advice is valued, Licinius, your dissent is not. Learn when to hold your tongue, or I shall find other uses for it."

"I apologise, Gaius. Your decision will of course be proven correct."

Caligula stared his unctuous friend down, not continuing his announcements until the eyes of Licinius were glued to the floor. "It is also my pleasure to announce that the Lady Aelia will be sponsoring the transportation and subsequent erection of an Egyptian obelisk, to reside at the centre of the spina at the Circus Maximus. I, and all of Rome, give thanks to you, Lady Aelia." He lifted his wine to her, and others followed. "It will stand for millennia in recognition of your generosity."

So Aelia was the thief responsible for the Vatican obelisk.

"Last, I shall be increasing the grain allowance to the plebs. Mother tells me I should keep them content, and as always I dutifully follow her advice. I do so hope they will return my generosity with loyalty. Let us eat and eat well."

"How much will the obelisk cost you, Mistress?"

"Us."

"Pardon?"

"You should have asked how much the obelisk will cost us."

"Why? I mean...when did I agree to that?"

"I have no need to seek your agreement, Nate. You are my slave. What is yours is mine, and from the quantity of coin you have in your account—yes, I have checked, I use the same banker—you can afford it."

"If you say so, Mistress." Shit.

"You do not agree with enthusiasm. You earlier expressed a desire for a place in history. The obelisk will stand forever."

I guess I could warm to it. History is the record of doers. The do-nothings have nothing to record. Ironic though. His money had come from his potion, wax, and scented soap, items that aided Roman erections. That money would fund an erection that would eventually stand in the middle of St. Peter's Square, and last every bit as long as the two-thousand-year erection he had maintained with Amanda, probably longer, certainly bigger. I have to tell Bart about this! If only the Catholics knew of the activities that paid for their stolen obelisk.

With the introductions and announcements over, the host and guests settled into a steady diet of food, conversation, and sex. Some engaged in all three, some combined the first with the last, while others were less indulgent and partook in them singularly. Aelia and Nate enjoyed only the food, preferring to sit, listen and mostly look away from the behaviour that surrounded them.

How are those female leashes attached? Nate watched intently as Claudius removed one. It was an eggplant-shaped plug, and Claudius was removing it from a woman who had only moments before given him an affectionate peck on the cheek. From the doggy position, he replaced her eggplant-shaped plug with his eggplant-shaped penis.

Very odd, on all counts.

Claudius settled into a slow but steady stroke rate, and with nothing else to do Nate began counting.

About 30 strokes per minute. I wonder how that compares to Amanda's old rowing partner. And I wonder what the average stroke rate is for a man. I've never thought to count.

Claudius' head-shaking began to progress through his entire body.

He must have Parkinson's like Bart. The girl doesn't seem to mind. Her head was close, and with her leaning on the edge of the table staring up at him, Nate was captivated by her intelligent eyes. They were tawny in colour, set in a face framed by flowing auburn hair. You're one of Julia's friends. So the scantily dressed friends who accompany her to the forum are whores. Good. She shouldn't disapprove of my past, if she discovers it.

"Ah...hello. Nate," he said and smiled while pointing to himself.

"I know who you are," the whore said with a mischievous smile. "I am Hornia."

She recognises me. But is she telling him her name, or the state of her biorhythms? "Your name is Hornia?" Hornia nodded to the rhythm of her lover's shaky thrusts. "I see. What are the names of the women you arrived with and the others in silk?" Talking to her while Claudius screws her; this is kinky.

Yes! He seeks conversation. "You see the dark skinned one over there, the one who is sitting on the man who was sitting here?" Tacitus the historian had moved away earlier.

"The one with Cicero? The one with Hippocrates sucking on her breasts?"

"Yes. Her name is Boobia."

"I can see why." And she looks Indian rather than African.

"You see the one over there, the petite girl with straight black hair and one man over, one under?"

"The one with Spartacus and the architect, the little oriental woman?"

Do not mention the gladiator, Nate. The ache in Aelia's crotch was controlling her eyes and they were unwilling to leave the naked Spartacus.

"Oriental?"

"From the far east. Her hair is black, skin a shade of yellow, and her eyes almond shaped."

"Yes. I have not heard the term oriental before. She and Boobia come from lands far away towards the rising of the sun. Her name is Jucia."

"She would need to be." Spartacus has a purple-headed warrior between his legs to rival the one that hung from Laurentius. "Do you know the other women?" I may as well ask as many questions as I can, anything to keep my mind from the fact that I'm talking to a woman who is being boned by a future emperor of Rome.

"Of course. Do you see the woman over there in red?"

"The one who is...sort of...standing on her head with Vespasian going up and down between her legs? That must be uncomfortable for her."

"It is not as uncomfortable as it seems. She is Porcia, madam of the Imperial Brothel, in which I live. When Porcia is away, Boobia is our madam. Boobia is smart and tough."

So that's Pomponia's sister. That's why Aelia seemed to know her. She looks a tad evil with those black fingernails. A pity Pomponia isn't her twin. "What was that thing he removed from you?" Nate pointed to his crotch. "The thing with the chain on it? It looks like an eggplant?"

"What is an egdeplant?"

"An EGGplant is a fruit we have in Australia."

"Oh. It is not called an eggplant. It is simply the tip of our leash." Hornia paused to adjust her position. "The little Leluuwahn girl is Sarai, a real sweetie. The one in cream next to her is Lais, a very expensive courtesan. Skilled at what she does. I thought Porcia's expertise was extensive until she engaged Lais to instruct us. I enjoyed my profession before, and now I love being a whore." He looks at me differently now, as if he does not like what he sees. He did that in the forum too. Could it be something I said?

I look at you and see the worst of me. "Instructed you?"

Eprius returned from an adjacent room with a male courtesan in tow—literally. He left the man's leash with Milonia in exchange for one she held. A groan from the far end of the table told all that Vespasian had finished with Porcia, and he released her legs to relax on the lounge.

I can win your smile back. "How is the food? It looks delicious." Looking up at him with an inviting smile and bedroom eyes, Hornia ignored his question.

"Not as delicious as your pretty fa... Yes, the food is delicious. These peeled grapes and this wine are excellent."

He thinks I have a pretty face. And he talks to me. I have won him back. Julia has chosen well. "Could I eat something too?" She placed a hand under the table to take hold of him. "You did enquire about my training."

"You will not engage in sex while I am present, and you will not speak with the courtesan while she engages in her profession." Aelia turned her head away, nose in the air. Do not look down the table. Control yourself.

Nate shrugged at Hornia to say sorry, but she did not release her grip. Claudius released a groan, shuddered, patted Hornia on the bottom and moved off leaving her naked buttocks in the air like a red rag to a bull. Hippocrates was the next bull.

"And what great medical breakthrough have you made that has so impressed the emperor, Mr. Nate?" the most famous doctor in history asked as he commenced a pelvic examination of Hornia.

"No more than a little concoction I brought with me from Australia. It seems to work. As easy to make as taking a piss."

"Ah. So it is the potion that some of my patients have mentioned. Might I ask of your secret, for the furthering of medical knowledge, of course?"

"Not while I am making a small fortune out of it, no. Sorry. I need all the money I have for an upcoming, unexpected expense."

Wise, wealthy and flattering. I wish I had a man like Nate. "Do not surrender your knowledge. You will need the income to gain what you desire," Hornia whispered before dropping her head into his lap.

Aelia responded by grabbing the girl by the hair, lifting her head, and giving her a very firm "No."

She talks to Hornia like an errant dog. Not allowed to speak to the pretty courtesan, and not wanting to talk to the good doctor as he examined his patient, Nate set off to try his luck with Cicero, glancing back over his shoulder at Hornia. She deduced my need for money to claim Julia's hand. There is a mind in motion behind her lovely eyes. A pity she's so free with her favours.

"Can we speak again?" Hornia asked with a smile.

"If we meet again."

He did not return my smile.

Cicero was reclining on a lounge, sipping wine as he waited for Tacitus to finish with Boobia. Despite her being involved with another, Cicero held one of her breasts while engaged in conversation with Claudius. As he approached, Nate could hear their conversation.

"He is familia. No matter the degree of my familia's taunts, they are familia, and I owe a duty to them." Claudius did not stutter as he spoke. He had returned to his relaxed self after his time with Hornia.

"But they show you no respect, Claudius."

"One has to earn respect."

"One should not be required to earn the friendship of one's familia."

"While the friendship may be strained at times, I believe it is always there, simply through my being a part of them."

"He removes the greatest ornament of friendship who takes away from it respect."

Nate felt a tingle. He had first heard the words from Tina, and to now hear them spoken by their author was something Nate had never imagined possible. With all the debauchery going on around him, and with his participation in it, it's impressive that the famous man does not pause his philosophical mind.

"You are kind to them, are you not? I have seen it."

"I try to be so, always."

"You have spoken of duty to your familia, but I will say to you that there is no duty more obligatory than the repayment of kindness." Cicero placed his free hand on Claudius' forearm. "Your familia owes a duty to you."

"The emperor's mother, Agrippina, wishes to speak with you." Nate half turned his head to listen to a female voice that seemed familiar, but was more interested in listening to Cicero, his hoped-for mentor.

The voice interrupted again. "I have spoken with your mistress, Aelia, and she has agreed you are to come with me."

With the voice now adding Aelia's name to that of the emperor's mother, a frustrated Nate turned to confront the voice. "Does it have to be n ... Julia! Wh ... umm ... why ... "

"Follow me." Julia was keen to be leave the room, uncomfortable with the way her brother used slaves.

"Anywhere!" Control your mouth.

Yes! He wants me. Do not sway your hips until you are in the hallway. Only Nate is to see.

Incredible. Aelia shook her head. She knew all the royal familia by sight. His vestal is the Emperors sister.

As Nate followed his goddess, he heard Cicero say, "That one has the colouring of a Briton. I look forward to travelling there one day."

"JULIA," Caligula shouted as vacated the slave he occupied to greet her.

Nate could not hear what was said between them, keeping a respectful distance, though the emperor's eyes told a story. He loves her. Disappointment crushed his heart. I cannot compete with an emperor.

Julia has Nate at last. Lucky her. Hornia was still with Hippocrates. He has not looked back to me.

Oh, Julia. Show some wisdom and leave the slave alone. With a senator locked onto each of her nipples, Boobia could not rush to her friend's rescue. You are beyond my help.

Good. She moves on. Nate followed his goddess through the wide marble corridors of the palace. Think of something worth saying, something to impress her, but he could think of nothing more than the gentle rhythm of her hips. She's so much like Sarah, curvy with nice bum wobble. That tunic she wears is thinner than the one she wore this morning; how do they heat this place? Wax! Try to sound smart.

"We will have the wax in store for you tomorrow. Will you be coming?"

"Perhaps." Julia smiled at him over her shoulder. Now! She engaged her wanton walk.

"Wow. You look...would you like to evaluate my wax tomorrow?"

It is working again. Oh Venus! My wickedness is befuddling his mind. Remain coy. Do not look back at him.

"I already asked that. Would you know the hour? I can demonstrate how to achieve the best results."

"The hour? No. I will arrive when my duties allow. I apologise for the need to disturb your conversation with the philosopher."

Talking and concentrating on her bottom, Nate paid no attention to where she was leading him. When Julia stopped moving, he looked up to see a woman, the image of Jane, the same woman he had met once before.

"Thank you, daughter. You may go." the woman said.

Nate's goddess brushed his bicep as she passed him to depart the room, turning in the opposite direction from which she had come. Daughter?

Once Julia was out of sight, the woman reached under Nate's tunic to lead him away, arousing not only his libido but his suspicion. Jane once led me like this. Thank Christ Julia isn't here to see it. It would be like the tennis club all over again.

XXIX

His arm is thick. Jucia said muscles without need are a sign of vanity. Nate needed them to fight, he has need.

It is good mother's double and Nate have found one another, people from their own land. Privacy will allow them to discuss their experiences in Rome.

XXIX

Nineteen-year-old Valentinius was looking forward to the birth of his first child with Sabina, she a year older and also a slave. Her baby belly was showing, approximately the same size as the belly of the empress. Sabina continued to work in the kitchens, fortunate to have been given lighter duties by the kindly women with whom she worked. It was something the women did for each other during pregnancy.

They had initially each chosen a boy's and a girl's name, four names in total, and could not agree on any of them. When it was suggested by Sabina's mother, who also worked in the kitchen, that they use a unisex name, they had looked at each other, nodded their heads in agreement, and looked forward to the birth of their little Iovita.

There were times like tonight when Valentinius retreated into his mind to imagine Iovita's face, in preference to concentrating on his calling. I hope for a boy, taller and heavier than my own slight frame, and less attractive so he will never have need to endure the attentions of rich senators, or anyone else with the coin to buy his body. While his profession was easier than others within the palace, he gained none of the respect the Greek slaves were afforded for their culture and education. In Rome, there was no respect for a man who took the submissive, feminine role, a man who received from a dominant male like Caligula, as was happening now. The emperor's wife looked on, encouraging Valentinius to please her husband.

"Push back hard," Milonia said loudly as another male prostitute sucked on her nipples. More courtesans had entered the room post the introductions. "Show him you want more," she commanded, and he uncomfortably did her bidding. Milonia leant back to invite him in, pulling his head down to her crotch by his strangely shaped ears; long and thin, more of an exclamation than a question mark. Most women craved unusual food during pregnancy. For Milonia, the slaves tongue fed her need for the unusual.

What she sought was difficult to perform with her pregnant belly in the way, and Valentinius encountered resistance from her unborn child in the form of small kicks to his forehead. They burn the candle of my dignity from both ends. Milonia held him where he could barely breathe, while Caligula pounded him with the envy of a man who wished he was as beautiful as the one before him.

XXIX

"You look well, Nate."

"So it is you. How in hell did you become the emperor's mother?"

Jane had led him to a private garden, sitting herself on a cushioned marble bench, and not releasing him until he was positioned to stand in front of her. She spoke English to foil the prying ears of potential listeners. Nate moved to sit beside her.

"Do NOT sit there."

"Why not?"

"Because a slave does not sit in the presence of the emperor's mother, you idiot. Others could be watching. Stand where I released you." She pointed to the ground in front of her. "I'll ask the questions." Jane paused to straighten her clothes and preen her hair, although neither was necessary. "How do you think you are going to get away with pissing in the emperor's potion?"

Bitch. There is no way I can deny what she's saying. "How did you figure it out?" He sat down beside her.

"I said do NOT sit there." He stood again. "I had no idea what was in the potion before tonight. I had been told the potion-maker was coming to dinner, and when I was introduced to Hippocrates, I started to believe it was him, you know, the Hippocratic Oath and all. But when I saw you, I thought a little further and wondered if you had found some way to pass on your antibots. As they're programmed to depart their host before they die, I thought you might be pissing in his drink. Or perhaps it was neither of you. I didn't know until you confirmed it just now." Idiot.

Smart-arsed bitch. "I have answered your question, so it's only fair that you answer mine. How in hell did you become the emperor's mother?"

"Not so fast, man meat. What do you think would happen if I told my son of your dirty deed? Do you think you would live out the day?"

"Maybe, maybe not," although the latter is far more likely than the former.

"I would say not. You would be dead, and I'll have achieved the aim I had before we came to this backward age. Why should I allow you to live?" I enjoy having your life in my hands, and your cock. She reached under his tunic. So much thicker than Gaius. "I could give the order for you to be castrated and your genitals transformed into a rattle. Gaius had done that with others."

"And why would you want to risk your life by doing that?"

"You fucking idiot," Jane scoffed. "How could my life be at risk by killing or castrating you?"

"First, history says that this addled-brain emperor of yours, your son, gets himself assassinated by annoying too many people. Could you see that happening?" Her knitted eyebrows showed she could. "My antibots calm him, stopping him from aggravating people and thereby extending his life, and by association, yours. Yes, yours," he said and stared into her eyes. He was adlibbing a little, but it seemed to be working. "I would say your life is entwined with his, because history says that when Caligula was killed, all of his family were too. Understand?"

He knew that not all of Caligula's family had been killed, and he also failed to mention that history said Agrippina was dead before Caligula became emperor. But these details would not help his case. Gilding the lily is not lying.

Jane went quiet, though her silence was not long lived. "Your potion is not the only thing that keeps him calm." She threw back her hair, and with a piercing gaze willed him to mount a moral high-horse.

You're screwing your surrogate son. I don't...no, I do believe it.

Nate's eyes said all that Jane hoped his words would reveal. Be disgusted, you weakling. I'll have more power than you could ever imagine. "And why can't I provide the antibots directly to Gaius?"

"What will be your explanation for not giving them to him earlier, and how will you explain your concoction? We're both in the same position."

"You said first point. What is your second?"

"This is where it could benefit us both. I'm making a lot of money from selling my potion, and demand is outstripping supply. I could use your antibots. I'll pay you for them."

"Look around, man meat. I have no need of money."

Jane doesn't want money? No way. "You look around. The wealth that surrounds you is not your own, and if my antibots aren't enough to keep the owner, your son, out of trouble, how do you think you will escape this palace without money? Through the sewers?"

Jane went quiet, but only briefly. "How much do I get and at what percentage? I want a half share."

"You will receive a quarter of sales after expenses."

"Expenses? How many expenses can you have by taking a piss?"

"I have to pay for the beer, I have to pay for the barrels the potion is stored in, and I have to pay sales commission to my employees. I have expenses."

"Then why only a quarter after expenses?"

"Amanda supplies me hers also."

"Still alive, is she?" I enjoyed abusing her. "That makes it one third each, so why should my share be only one quarter?"

"I get one half because if the active ingredient is discovered by your psycho son, I'll be the one fed to the lions, not you, and not Amanda. No one will know either of you are involved." That wasn't quite right, Scaevola knew, but Nate saw no advantage deploying honesty with Jane. "I get a half; you two get a quarter each. Agreed?"

"I'll think on it, boy." I'll agree, but not yet.

XXIX

Killing men and pleasuring women were the only two skills Spartacus possessed. His victories won him fame and fortune.

Fame conveyed women to him, including patrician women who showered him with gifts and favours. Fame also won him invitations to feast in the homes of senators and emperors.

Fortune bought him land, a part share in the Ludus armoury, a gambling habit, and the possibility of freedom. Freedom came at the price of a life without risk of death, a half-life he did not desire. With Vespasian to command the legions in Judea, Spartacus sought adventure within them, and the custom of the general and his commanders for ornate armour where the quantities were small and the profits large.

For these reasons he had need to speak with Vespasian. Withdrawing from a whore ...

"Thank you, that was enjoyable."

... he dressed, and followed the general into an adjacent room. In one corner lingered three men of untidy appearance who had not enjoyed a seat at the feasting table. In another corner was a curtain, and from behind the curtain emanated noises of male exertion. Vespasian stood outside the curtain, listening.

XXIX

Venus, look at the size of it. Her head forward, eyes right, Aelia watched Spartacus withdraw, dress, and walk away. And not a hair on him from neck to toe. That was almost as exciting as watching him de-robe. Why do dangerous men so captivate a woman's eye? He is a lion ready to attack.

XXIX

To say Vespasian did not like Licinius, and by association did not like his friends, would be an understatement. In the Senate, Licinius was ever the sniper, always quick to provide derogatory comments, only supporting those to whom he wished to ingratiate himself, and always finding fault in others. It was rumoured Licinius was submissive, and proof of this point would be useful in silencing the man. Watching Eprius lead a male slave to an adjoining room, and suspecting him to be a provider for others, Vespasian had followed.

"It is my turn to have the slave, Aulus. You enjoyed the first one."

The whinging voice of Licinius. A more querulous man I have never heard. Vespasian endured the discourse with hands on hips.

"I collected him. You know he is mine," Eprius contended. "You two amuse each other until I am finished."

That is his little friend, Eprius.

"Do not argue, Licinius. He is correct. Now prostrate yourself on the lounge before me. You can do no more in your flaccid state."

Aulus, the only manly voice of the three. Be patient. Give the chick occasion to incriminate himself. Vespasian listened to the sounds of movement and exertion for some time before he heard Licinius speak again.

"I am ready, Eprius. I can do it now."

"Quickly then, come to me. Do not waste yourself on the wind," Eprius implored, reaching out to guide his friend into him.

"Aulus, release me, please. I beg of you not to make me waste this."

"Be a man and fight for your desires."

"Hold back, Licinius." Eprius could see his friend struggling to reach him. "Yes, I have you. Come closer."

"Oh, your hand feels good. Aulus, please, I beg of you, please allow me greater movement."

Vespasian heard the shuffling of feet, and gave Licinius and his friends a moment more to incriminate themselves. Once ready, he pulled back the curtain with a flurry.

"So the rumours are true, Licinius. You are passive." Vespasian found four men before him in a line of feminism. A slave had his leash tied to a ring in the wall, bending forward to receive the attentions of Eprius, who was receiving Licinius, who was receiving Aulus. Only Aulus shall leave with his reputation intact. The first three men were free of body hair, while the last's sparse hair on his head was in sharp contrast to the rug that covered his back.

"What...what is this? What are you doing here? You were not invited. How dare you come to us unasked for? He would be welcome, but not you." The horse trader has ruined my climax.

Vespasian had not realised another stood behind him. It was the gladiator Spartacus.

"Do not concern yourself that I have ambition to join your parade. I have no hunger to be feminised," Vespasian said.

"Nor I." Aulus was displeased with the connotation.

"I see that, Senator. My apologies if you felt my comment has slighted you. It was meant for these others." Turning to Spartacus, Vespasian continued, "You may join them if you wish. I shall leave you men to your activities."

"I have no more wish to participate than you, General." Spartacus had a rich, deep voice. "I came here not to participate with them but in the hope I may speak with you concerning your Judean campaign."

"Let us discuss the matter elsewhere." Vespasian held out his arm towards the banquet room.

As he walked beside Vespasian, Spartacus could feel the eyes of a doggy-dancing senator boring into his buttocks, and a glance over his shoulder confirmed it. Licinius was staring at him and whispering something into the left ear of an appreciative Eprius.

XXIX

"To return to my first point, who will look after you should Caligula be deposed as emperor?"

"I can fend for myself; I always have and always will."

"With no money and no family, I doubt that will continue, unless you choose to become a prostitute. Your age will work against you in that profession. You need a husband."

"I am afraid husbands do not last long with me, man meat."

"They don't last long here either. Divorce for political and social gain is common in Rome, and women do not stay unmarried long."

I have had the same thought myself. "You have someone in mind."

"Claudius."

"What? Dear Uncle Claudius who twitches and stammers, and is ridiculed by his family and most others? Does he have enough money to overcome his deficiencies?"

"He has something better."

"What? And don't tell me his dick. He would need two of them, both vibrating to convince me to marry him. Surely, you have someone better in mind?"

"Would the next emperor be more to your liking?"

"That sounds more like it. Who is he?"

"Claudius." Nate did not bother mentioning that with the timelines out and Vespasian also a possible contender, it could be the latter carrying the golden sceptre rather than Claudius.

Jane held her chin. "You suggest I make money from giving you my urine, and you also suggest I gain protection by marrying a man who shakes and stutters. Are you listening to yourself, Nate?"

She used my name this time, not "man meat." She knows I make sense. He let her think on it. It took only a moment.

"I'll consider both of your proposals."

"Good. You never did answer my first question, though. How in hell did you become the emperor's mother?"

"She's ill."

"They're using you to replace her?"

"Yes."

"Why would they bother? If she dies, she dies."

"I don't know, but they are," Jane lied.

"Perhaps Agrippina is seen as a force of reason to counter his madness. Should she die, he may be killed. They might be hoping you will play out a charade that she still lives. You had better become a convincing replacement. If not, you won't last long, but that appears to be more your problem than mine, doesn't it?"

"You could be correct." I'll explain nothing to you.

"Surely your Australian accent would give you away."

"My accent is thinning. I shall consider all you have said. Before you go, we must have sex."

"What? That nutbag son of yours will kill me if he thinks I've screwed his mother."

"If you haven't noticed, sexual favours are freely exchanged in this palace, and there may be people watching. Why else would Agrippina call for a slave during an orgy? There are eyes and ears everywhere, and I want it to appear that I'm using a slave. Understand?"

Now it was Nate's turn to reluctantly acknowledge the sense of her words, though he was worried to whom one of those sets of eyes may belong. "Where is the Vestal who delivered me here?" If she doesn't already know, I can't let on that I know Julia or Jane will throw a spanner in the works if she can.

"While the girl is helpful to me, more helpful than her sisters in her pitiful and innocent way, I do not track her movements. It is possible Julia Livilla has gone to see her mother. There is a problem with Julia Drusilla, her sister. Gaius is sending her away."

Shit. When Julia delivered me, Jane called her daughter. "And her mother is?"

"Her mother is Agrippina. Her current quarters are way over—"

"Agrippina? Caligula's mother? That makes her Caligula's sister."

"Nothing much gets past you, does it, sunshine."

"Shit."

"What are you shitting yourself about?"

Nate's mind raced with ideas in no particular order as he paced the garden in a circle. I'm in love with Caligula's sister. Why is she in love with me? Is she in love with me? If I can marry Julia before Caligula is killed, then the madman may appoint me to the Senate to ensure his sister marries well. Marrying Julia will increase the possibility of my becoming a senator, although I thought I would need to be a senator before I married her. Or, Julia being Caligula's sister might work against me if Caligula is killed before I'm appointed to the Senate. That would ruin my chances with her. I'd love to see her naked. Caligula seemed very close to Sarai. If I can get to Sarai through Porcia, and mention to Sarai the commitment I made to Glade to help in her rescue, then Sarai could convince Caligula it was a good idea for Uncle Claudius to marry Jane. I'm not sure if all that makes sense. The scenarios are long shots, but who knows? I love her bum wobble. Shit, this is getting complicated. Nate stopped his pacing.

"I have a deal for you. The first half you already know. You provide your antibots, and I give you a cut of the profits, banked into an account in your name at the Forum. If you agree to that, then I'll attempt to assist you to secure your future with Claudius."

"Why? Why help me?" I wouldn't do that for you.

"Because I'm a nice guy."

"Bullshit. There's something else. What is it?"

"Nothing you need to know."

What am I missing? "Does he have a wife, children?"

"Claudius?"

"No. Fucking Santa Claus, you idiot. Of course I mean Claudius."

Bitch. "Wife, I'm not sure. If you're lucky the last one has already been executed. Children, yes, but I'm not sure how many. I think one boy was called Britannicus. Is it a deal?"

If his wife isn't dead I could kill her, and the bottom line is I'll get paid for doing no more than nature requires. I don't know how he could arrange for me to marry an emperor, but if he does, then well and good. "Yes." Jane put her hand under his tunic, taking hold of his waxed package to pull him down to the garden bench.

"You aren't paying me anymore, Jane. I don't have to do this." I don't want Julia to see me with another woman. Sitting on the bench, Nate looked to the entryway, his heart held by Julia, his balls gripped by Jane.

"Still waxing, I feel," she said as she massaged him into a useful shape. If anyone's watching, they're about to see Bald Barbara at her best and suspect nothing other than Agrippina using a slave for her pleasure. It's a pity you're a loose end, boy. You're a far better fuck than the slaves around here, she thought as she lay back to accept him, raising her legs to the night sky.

Nate noticed a small scar on the underside of Jane's crotch and placed a finger on it. "What happened there?

"Kiss it better and I'll tell you."

He did...she did not

As she felt herself approaching climax, Jane reached under the garden bench for a carving knife. If ever they returned to the future he could finger her to the police. In ancient Rome he could finger her to anyone and that could weaken Gaius' position and hers. I'll tidy this loose end now. Taking hold of the blade's handle with her right hand, her left gripping his butt, Jane flicked the blade from its sheath, held it above his back and ...

"Ohhh."

Ohhh? Only one ohhh? I preferred the howls and growls of the daughter of Satan, but I guess a whimper from the mother of the emperor is more appropriate. Appropriate sex with Jane; what is the world coming to.

Despite being immersed in her orgasm, Jane had the presence of mind not to kill him. Wait until you have money of your own. She dropped the knife under the bench seat. That's twice now I've missed my chance. It's like someone is looking after him, either protecting him or stopping me. I've never hesitated like this before.

Nate withdrew and stood, not having orgasmed. "One more thing. What happened to Sarah's ring?"

"Stolen."

"By who?"

"By three bastards who were here earlier tonight." Straightening her tunic and running her fingers through her hair, Jane moved to the edge of the garden near her room and waited with her back to Nate.

She wants her arse squeezed. No way. Nate smacked it hard. Will she always be my rain? If I'm lucky, Julia didn't see any of that.

I trained him well, Jane thought as she reached out to his bum. Men love having their arse squeezed, and she enjoyed digging her fingernails in. Thinking of those who might have been listening, she needed to devise a story to explain her ability to speak the language of Britannia. The story may need to be as good as the tumble. You're a dumb fuck, Nate, but you're also a great one.

XXIX

"Why do each of you wish to come, and why should I take you?" Vespasian was a straightforward man, especially when people were pressing hm.

"Why do I wish to come? While I have fame within Rome for my deeds in the arena, I seek still more fame for brave deeds performed on the battlefield. Why should you take me? Because I can fight."

"The first we all desire, the second we shall see. Report to Prefect Titus tomorrow at the second hour. He breaks camp for Judea later than I, and will attach you to a legion. You have your master's permission for travel?"

"Yes." It was only a small lie; Spartacus planned to arrange it with Crixus tomorrow.

"And you, Aulus? Why should I allow you to join my campaign?"

"I seek the same as Spartacus. While Rome is comfortable and satisfying, it bores me."

With the confidence of a man accustomed to being obeyed, Vespasian ordered Aulus to report to Titus also, then gave his thanks to Caligula for the evening. As the general exited the hall, Spartacus reclined on a lounge beside Hippocrates, with Cicero on Hippocrates left, each man welcoming him and then continuing their discussion while female heads nodded in their laps. Aulus followed Vespasian's example and retired for the night.

"I think you are wrong, Hippocrates."

"Your position is philosophical while mine is practical. Once we know the secret of his potion, Rome will benefit, and for that matter, the world that Rome controls. From the patients I have seen using it, the slave's potion not only eases urination problems, it cures all other ailments as well. Rome needs that potion," as do I. Others may think me greedy, but those others are wealthy.

"Perhaps, but where is the benefit to the owner; where is the reward for his invention? Without reward of some kind, people will not do business. They will take no risks. It is the risk-takers we need to continually improve Rome. Slow down a little please, dear," Cicero requested as he placed a hand on the girl's head to modify her stroke rate.

Sorry, Hornia thought, unable to speak. Keep it slow or he might send me away. Their conversation is interesting and I want to join in.

"You talk of the potion, I presume." Spartacus waved away a naked female carrying a plate of freshly shucked oysters. Oysters gave him a rash.

"Yes," Hippocrates took two oysters, as did Cicero. "Have you used it? I notice your cough has vanished." Hippocrates was Spartacus' physician.

"Not only has it relieved my cough, it shortens my healing time. The two trident wounds in my hip, from opening day at the amphitheatrum, only fully healed after I used the potion. Other bruises and cuts now take little time to repair." Spartacus remembered seeing Nate at the Ludus. I shall take an interest in him on his next visit.

"Only two wounds, from a trident? Should there not be three?"

"Only two of the tips made contact with him," Hippocrates explained. "Would you like to swap?" he asked Cicero. "Mine appears more patient."

"Yes, and we should find one for our friend Spartacus here also."

At least I have not been sent away, Hornia thought as she changed places with Jucia. I should slow my pace to match hers, and the two courtesan's heads began nodding in unison.

"Excuse me, could you..." Cicero asked another woman while pointing to Spartacus.

Boobia knelt to entertain the gladiator. Why are those two staying in time with each other? It must be a request from the men. Boobia settled into the same rhythm as her friends, all three courtesan's heads now nodding in time.

"The right to ownership of property is a right we all rely upon. Remove it from one item, and where do you stop? The law is there for good reason, for the good of the people, and consequently for the good of Rome."

"Have I not heard you say that the welfare of the people is the ultimate law? With control of his potion in the hands of the Senate and its dispersal coordinated with the grain ration under my supervision, it would ultimately improve the health and welfare of the people, would it not?"

"While your point is well made, the horizon for its consequences is too close. Why would the next person be motivated to improve the people's welfare if the reward for doing so was removed? I cannot agree with you, Hippocrates. However, I do agree with you that this girl is more patient than that one." Cicero patted Jucia's head.

"It is good to see we can agree on some things." Hippocrates adjusted the cushions behind him to better relax into them, and then placed his hands behind his head.

"And how is yours, our famous gladiator?" Cicero asked, mimicking Hippocrates position.

"Equally agreeable. It is good to relax between bouts. I fear I shall miss such pleasures in Judea. Interesting how the three stay in time, is it not?"

"Yes...," very interesting, Hippocrates thought, although mine begins to lose her timing.

Pleased that the men were enjoying themselves, an excited Hornia was unable to keep time and stay with the conversation. As she was in the middle, the three now looked like a modern day multi coloured piston engine; when Hornia went up, Boobia and Jucia went down and vice versa.

"You will be following Vespasian in his adventure?" Hippocrates asked Spartacus. Intriguing coordination.

"Yes. I should think it will be no more than twelve months before my return." These women are talented.

"It will take longer than that I suspect. Vespasian has quite a mission to perform in Judea." One up, two down, one down, two up...fascinating. Cicero too was admiring the performance.

"Would you like to make a wager on that senator? Say 10,000 denarii?" Boobia could taste her gladiator's enthusiasm for gambling.

Not normally one to wager, but a man confident in his opinions, Cicero agreed.

XXIX

When Nate returned to the hall he found more activity than when he departed and no sign of Julia.

Good, I don't want her seeing all this.

Girls playing flutes entertained as they danced naked between guests. Acrobats swung from the ceiling on ropes and swings; a lone leopard was in a far corner, its leash attached to a wall only feet away from a tethered male; this orgy has increased in zeal. At the far end of the table, Spartacus, Cicero, and Hippocrates reclined on one lounge, hands behind their heads and legs apart to allow Boobia, Hornia, and Jucia room for their activities. The three men appeared deep in conversation while affording the women no opportunity to join them.

Rome is unbelievable. Nate picked some grapes that hung from a vine around the neck of a beautiful fair-skinned girl, each grape taken revealing more of her perky breasts. She held a pitcher in each hand, one of wine and one of water, mixing them to his liking into a silver goblet he found on the table. After eating more grapes from the girl's vine to appease his growing hunger, Nate transferred his attention to the table to devour a chicken leg. It looks like a chicken leg, but it doesn't taste like one. He rounded out his main course with eggs and greens, and for dessert filled a bowl with blackberries and cream. The cream had been artistically arranged in zebra stripes on the body of a naked black-skinned girl, while the blackberries were arranged in the same pattern on a naked fair-skinned girl. I love Rome.

"Nate. Come here, please." He reluctantly moved to his mistress, and the architect Rabirius reached her before he did.

"Excuse me, Lady Aelia, would you allow me to become acquainted with your slave?"

"Try shagging me up the arse, Sunshine, and I will punch your fucking lights out." Nate sat down, believing the stool to be the safest place for his anus. I'm not apologising this time, Mum.

"I do not appreciate your vulgar language, young man, and while I have never before heard the term shagging I can imagine its meaning. Do not use it again."

"I have no desire to engage in that, Mistress." Nate pointed towards a male slave and his dominant companion. "I kept my voice down, and no one else appears to have noticed."

Aelia looked around, he reads the room well, and moved her attention to Rabirius. "I will not agree to such a use for my slave."

"I apologise, Lady Aelia, for the poor construction of my request. I seek your slaves mind, not his body, hoping to discuss the architecture of his land. Would that be acceptable?"

Maybe I am sorry, Mum. "I apologise for the misunderstanding, but I know nothing of architecture." With his blackberries and cream thinning, and the bottom of his bowl coming to the fore, Nate considered a second helping. I like the look of those zebra girls. I could spend the remainder of the night eating their offerings. No. I shouldn't. Think of Julia.

Rabirius was not easily dissuaded, and pondered his next move while stroking his nose between a forefinger and thumb.

He had better not stretch that any more, or he might need a nose bra to stop it from hitting the ground, Nate thought.

"You may know more than you realise, young man. May I call on you tomorrow, at your villa perhaps, Lady Aelia, or if your slave would prefer to visit mine?"

"That would be acceptable. My slave would be happy to help you, I am sure."

"I will come to you." I don't want you arriving while Julia is there. Like I need to waste my time surfing the net for modern architecture.

"Nate, I would soon like to—" Aelia was interrupted again. This time it was the emperor with Sarai on his arm and Milonia behind him.

"Would you mind if I had a word with your slave." It was not phrased as a question. "His potion interests me."

"Of course." I have no choice, Aelia thought. The emperor had not paused for an answer, continuing on to the room from which Licinius and his friends came and went with male slaves.

Oohhhhh no. Giving Aelia a less than sincere look of thanks, Nate followed the god who walks on earth. The last time I was so conscious of my backside, I was exiting a lift with Bald Barbara.

Why does Nate have thin trails of blood spotting through his tunic? Aelia was intrigued. There are...four I think...yes four on each side of his back and ... one side of his bottom. Fingernail marks? Who has he been with? Surely not Julia Livilla?

Milonia walked to the left of the room and pulled back a thick blue velvet curtain to reveal a conga line of three men, the last two clutching the hips of the man in front.

"Leave us," Caligula commanded, pointing to Eprius, the last in line. Eprius scurried away, pausing every few steps for his squeezing hands to try, and fail, to contain his overflowing penis. It left Licinius engaged with a restrained slave. "We have need to talk, Licinius."

"Yes, Gaius." Should I withdraw?

"You receive? After I heard the rumours, you assured me you did not."

"I...sometimes I...enjoy the company of good friends, Emperor."

"I am a good friend, am I not?"

"Of course you are, Gaius. I am proud to count you among my friends."

"Good. Stay where you are until I give you leave."

"Yes, Caesar." The senator pushed deeper into the slave. I think the emperor will command my submission.

Stop digging your fingernails into my hips. What is he thinking? Valentinius closed his eyes and held his pose despite his aching back. It was then he felt a hand reach around to encourage him.

"You are the most beautiful boy I have seen. I want us to make love as equals."

I think not.

"You have met my friends before, have you not?" Caligula asked as he proceeded to the other end of the room. The Emperor did not look at Nate.

Nate had been eyeing the ceiling above the fornicating men, his back to three armed men Caligula now led him towards. Seeing the three, he recognised them as Marcellina's cannibals. Her death was my fault.

"Yes. We met at a previous dinner, Caesar." Nate bowed his head as Aelia had instructed, bastards, hiding a face waring with shame, hate, and unease. Thank Christ I'm wearing these high-legged sandals.

"My wife tells me you are the maker of my potion. Does someone prepare it for you?" Caligula lifted a slice of pale meat from a tray the three shared.

"I am the maker." Don't ask me for the formula.

"Like all great rulers, I can be generous towards those loyal to me, and those in league with my ambitions." Caligula paused.

Nate watched as Caligula licked his fingers.

"My wife suggests I should thank you for your assistance, however I ponder your loyalty and motivations."

"Who would not be loyal to their emperor?" Don't lie. Say little and escape with your life and arse intact. Nate felt something cold touch the scar on his leg. He looked down and followed the glinting edge of a sword up to the man with the razor whip. Shit. The sandals didn't work. The other two cannibals were also eyeing his leg, the larger of them rubbing a memory of pain in his right shoulder. Stay calm.

"Who indeed," Caligula said with a sideways glance to Nate. After pausing to chew the meat, he continued. "Are you enjoying my dinner party...what is your name again, potion man?"

"Nate," Milonia replied from behind her husband.

She used my name.

"Nate. Yes. A strange name from an unknown land. Have you, Nate?" The emperor focused his attention on the two remaining slices of meat on the cannibal's tray.

"I have, Caesar." Nate looked down and away not wanting his eyes to betray his emotions and noticed dark stains on the leather handle of Aub's razor whip. Marcellina's blood. Fucking arsehole.

"I am so pleased. Some flesh?"

Calm yourself. Revenge can wait. "Thank you, but no. My appetite has already been appeased by your generosity."

"Not completely, surely."

Suspecting the source of the meat, fearing his anger may burst through, and thinking anything he said might cause offence, Nate did not answer.

"Do you not trust the food of my friends?"

"Your food has been so delicious that I have already eaten more than my fill, great Caesar."

Caligula took a bite and tossed the remainder on the tray. "Does your loyalty extend to revealing the secret of your potion?"

SHIT. "Could we talk of this in private, Caesar?" I need time to think.

Caligula gave Nate a down-the-nose stare. "You may. Wait here."

Relieved for the moment, Nate watched Caligula and Milonia disappear behind the blue curtain. Terrific. Now I have to listen while he gives it to his boyfriend.

"Interesting scar you have there," Aub said. "I have one on my thigh. How did you acquire yours?" He moved to position his face only inches from Nate's. With Gaius gone Anzo moved to Aub's side, the monster's eyes narrowing as he looked down on the man who had caused him pain. Anzo's wounds had healed but his memories of their genesis were fresh.

Their breath smells like shit. Nate stood his ground against Marcellina's killers. "In a kitchen. I burnt my leg with a dish."

"Really? I would be interested to hear the tale."

"Really? Well I am not interested in recounting it." Nate turned his back on them, confident they would not attack in the palace.

"Have you found a ruby ring in your travels? My friends and I have lost one. We seek its return, and by whatever means are necessary," Aub poked a finger in Nate's ribs, "we will recover it."

Nate turned to face his foes, hands on his hips and balanced on the balls of his feet, standing closer to Aub than Aub had stood to him. "I am so sorry to hear of your loss."

"Sarai. Take the foreigner to the throne room," Caligula shouted from behind the blue curtain.

"What were your names? My memory of trivialities is poor."

"Trivialities in your life are we? Interesting. I do so hope we cease to remain so. My friends here are Aldegund and Anzo, and I am their leader, Aub."

"And I, as you have heard, must go. Perhaps we can chat another time, and discuss the pretty little ring you pine for."

"Oh, I am sure we will, pretty boy," said Aub, smiling as he touched his blade against Nate's scarred leg. "I am sure we will."

Nate turned, winked and feigned a kiss to Anzo as he passed the killer by. Yes. He looks as pissed off as Laurentius.

"Save it." Aub placed a restraining arm across Anzo's chest. "We will have our revenge when there is time and place to savour it."

Nate did not notice Sarai's bare bottom as he followed it to the throne room, preoccupied as he was with the situations behind and before him. I need to forget Marcellina for the moment and either lie about the potion's contents, which is not a good idea considering the lie is sure to be discovered; tell the psychopath that I piss in his potion, which will see me ripped apart by lions; or refuse to say how I make it. The last option is the only one I can see working, but I need a good reason for it.

"Glade still hopes to rescue you, Sarai," he said in English as they walked through the corridors. With the hallway full of slaves coming and going from the feast, he felt English was a safe option, if she could speak it. He hoped a conversation with her would relax his mind to enable a good reason to slide through.

"You know Glade, yes?"

"Yes. He hovers over the palace most days in the hope of seeing you."

"He has a plan to rescue me, yes?" She stopped to face him, her eyes wide with hope.

"No. Or maybe, yes. It's not much of a plan. He knows Porcia and believes she's trying to help you to escape. Is she?"

"I am not sure." Sarai turned to continue on. "Porcia is the one who gives me to Gaius."

"Has she ever mentioned that Glade is trying to rescue you?"

"She has not mentioned him, no."

There is too much going on at this dinner. Now in the throne room, Nate sat on the royal seat and buried a phrrt deep into the purple upholstery. Doing that into what he presumed would be the Emperor's favourite chair improved his mood and eased his churning stomach.

It's a comfy chair, Nate thought as he explained to Sarai who he was, and how he had promised Glade to help with her rescue.

Sarai, feeling a connection to Glade through Nate, climbed onto his lap to weep on his shoulder.

Though uncomfortable with having what looked like a naked prepubescent girl on his lap, Nate placed a hand on her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. What can I say? Probably nothing is best or I'll make it worse.

XXIX

Caligula wiped his spent genitals on the blue velvet curtain then threw it back to reveal Licinius in a state of relaxed satisfaction, leaning over and cuddling the slave before him. "I enjoyed your squealing, my friend, and will honour you with more attention in the future, much more." The emperor smacked the senator's arse hard, and with Milonia following set off to converse with his less esteemed colleagues.

I have never felt as full of power as I did with Gaius inside me. And this boy... I must have them both again. Licinius pushed himself upright with his hands on the slave. "What a fine-looking back you have." He kissed it, released a sigh, "I am glad you enjoyed my attentions," and began massaging the boy's back. "This feels good, does it not? I will see no other couples with you tonight."

You ease the ache in my back, but what do my actions say of me? Valentinius' head and hands rested heavily on the iron ring that secured his leash. No! Licinius had paused to kiss boy's hairless bottom.

"He is the one from the campsite, Gaius, the one we told you of, the one with the scar. He must die." Aub gripped the blood stained handle of his whip.

"And I want to do it." Anzo was staring in the direction Nate had departed, and Aub backhanded him on the chest for quiet.

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as we can be, Gaius."

"That is not sure enough. You are not to kill him until I have the secret of his potion."

After Gaius and Milonia departed, Aldegund, not as tense as his friends, imitated the girlie squeals Licinius had earlier made.

Licinius ignored the sounds, smoothed his clothes with his hands and his face with feigned dignity, and held his head high as he led Valentinius back to the feast on a short leash. If you were not friends of Gaius, you would be dead by daybreak.

XXIX

Walking into the room Nate had been absorbed in his own plight. Now he was concerned for Sarai, and Glade. How can I help? Sitting without speaking Nate became more comfortable with the moment, and as he did Sarai cuddled into him. "You have every reason to cry." He kissed her head again. She has lovely soft hair.

Glade has placed his hopes for her rescue in the hands of Pomponia's sister, and from what Sarai said his hopes are misplaced though they may be entwined with mine.

"Sarai." She looked up into his eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks. Nate wiped them away with a finger. "I made a promise to Glade to help you both where I could, to help you escape. But first, I may need your help. Would you do that for me, help me, I mean?"

"I will help where I can, yes." Her tears had not stopped, and he wiped more away.

"I provide the emperor with a potion that ..."

"It is good that you do, yes. He is centred, calm, and kills less when he has it. He scares me less since using your potion. He wants to know how you make it. Will you tell him, yes?"

"No. I..."

"If you do not, he may kill you. The potion improves him, though he often cannot control his temper even with it, yes."

"And if I tell him how it's made, I might guarantee my death. Can I count on your help?"

"Yes. How may I help?"

She speaks so softly, is so tiny and vulnerable. "I don't know yet," Nate admitted as the clip-clop sound of Incitatus approached.

Sarai hopped off Nates lap to stand beside the throne. Nate took a deep breath before releasing a long sigh and short phrrt to stand on the opposite side of the throne to Sarai.

Entering the room and dismounting, Caligula strolled casually up to feel Sarai's breasts. Nate saw in Caligula's eyes the affection the emperor held for the girl. He will loathe losing her. Helping her to escape will not be easy, and retribution will be swift and painful if I'm discovered.

Cupping her chin with his hand, Caligula lifted her face to look into her eyes. "Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?" He unleashed his rage on Nate. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?"

"He has done nothing, Gaius, no. I miss my home. Nate being away from his reminded me of my plight."

Quick to anger, the emperor just as quickly returned to calm. "I see." Caligula made no apology, and with Nate now in his sights he had cause to ignore Sarai's pain, a pain for which he felt guilt, a pain he believed Nate had inflamed.

"I asked previously about your loyalty to your emperor, and you sought to delay answering by seeking privacy. I graciously granted your request. We now have privacy."

The real reason for your graciousness was your desire to drill your boyfriend's bum, but voicing that fact won't help me. Find a reason. The technology contained in my urine is two thousand years more advanced than Roman medicine and ... that's it!

"I did not wish to refuse your request in public. The potion has been with a member of my familia for over two thousand years. It is a secret that I must keep." It had been with the one member of his familia, him, and it was a secret he had to keep if he wished to keep his life.

"Two thousand years, you say?" Caligula considered that as he sat on his throne, rubbing his nose.

"Yes, Caesar." Nate bowed to avoid eye contact as Milonia walked in. On foot, she had taken longer to arrive than her husband. "And I shall show my loyalty to you by continuing to supply it while I can."

"Are you refusing to answer a question from your emperor? Such refusals can be costly and painful." Allowing Nate to dwell on the implications, Caligula posed another question. "Do we have wine, Sarai? I grow thirsty while my patience dries up." Sarai ran to the feasting hall. Nate said nothing.

"I suggest you answer him, slave." Milonia was standing before Nate. "You may refuse me, but I advise you not to refuse my husband."

Nate paused before answering, trying to stretch time to allow Sarai to return. His fondness for her might rescue me yet, but I can't stay silent forever. "It is a secret I must keep, Caesar."

"Do you plan on taking the secret to your grave?" Caligula's knuckles were turning white on the carved arms of his throne.

"My secret and your good health, Caesar."

"Your wine, Gaius," Sarai said from the doorway as she rushed back into the room to stand beside the throne. Milonia moved away.

"Your grave has begun to be dug."

Sarai put a hand on Caligula's to calm him. "You need your potion, Gaius, yes. You scare me when you are without it." Caligula looked down on her with fondness. "Please do not kill him, Gaius, no. We need him."

"She is correct, Gaius. The ones who love you, want and need you to be well. Without the potion, you are not."

Milonia is coming to my rescue? She must be desperate. His moods swings must be worse than I thought.

"Please, Gaius. We should reward him for helping you, yes, not kill him for keeping the mystery of his aid." Sarai looked to Nate who gave a slight nod to reassure her.

Caligula sat silent, and his silence gave hope to the others. Nate preferring silence to a swift and unfavourable decision; Milonia preferred it to enduring rough, chaffing intercourse, and Sarai preferred it to riding through the halls, hiding her eyes while slaves were put to the sword.

"I shall not kill you, or have you killed. Would you have a reward?" The emperor looked between his women, and received smiles and gentle hands of approval.

Before entering the room, Nate would have seen leaving with his life reward enough, but not now. "I would like a seat in Senate."

"The Senate?" Caligula laughed. "A slave in the Senate?" His laughter grew. "A slave, even after becoming a freedman, can hold no office in Rome. I suggest you choose a more achievable reward, you ignorant fool."

"I was free until Rome enslaved me. If Rome can enslave me, why can the most powerful man in Rome not set me free; not make me a freedman, but make it so I never was a slave? Surely you have the power to achieve that?" I'm on thin ice, but with both his women acting to stabilise him, I might be able to skate my way to the other side.

Caligula's knuckles again turned white on the arms of his throne. He was trying to keep his temper in check, Sarai and Milonia supporting him, while Milonia gave Nate a look of, "Did you have to do that?"

Nate replied with a stare that insisted he did.

Sarai held one of Caligula's hands between her breasts, her other on his shoulder, while Milonia cupped his manhood in her palms. Between them they managed to redirect the emperor's mind from Nate's impertinence towards the tenderness they could provide. It was enough, though only just.

"I will consider it. Go."

Milonia watched Nate leave. He is either a witless fool or a man with the backbone of ten. After her dealings with him at Aelia's and tonight, she was leaning towards the latter as she watched his angular physique and backside leave the room. He is far more attractive than Gaius. A pity their roles are not reversed.

XXIX

I can't rely on the goodwill of a barely sane despot to achieve my goal of becoming a senator to win Julia's hand. I want both, and I'll need Jane, Cicero, and Porcia to help me onto the next rung of my ladder. Since returning to the hall Nate had been watching Porcia, hoping to get a moment alone with her. However as one man withdrew, another would move in, sometimes more than one until she was now surrounded by five. Though he had the patience to wait for an opportunity, Aelia did not. His mistress wanted to leave; the extravagance, indulgence and her contemplations of Spartacus had become too much.

"Our time here is over. I shall give my thanks to the emperor, and we will leave." The emperor had returned to the feasting hall with his women at his sides.

It's now or never. Nate summoned his courage and made his way to Porcia, hoping to arrange a time and place to discuss a plan he was sure would achieve mutual benefits.

XXIX

Porcia had wanted Spartacus from the moment she saw him. She was attracted to his warrior stance and muscular physique. She had watched his performance from on high at the opening of the amphitheatrum and had marvelled at his ability to tolerate pain. When Vespasian had finished with her, and Spartacus with another, Porcia had changed lounge to sit by the gladiator's side, running a long, slender finger up one of his thick, scarred arms. Her nails scratched lines across his hairless chest, her tongue licked the rippling muscles of his tanned abdomen and the scars on his hip while she massaged the smooth package between his legs. One of the numerous palace slaves had washed him post his last encounter, as another had done for her; it is poor etiquette at an orgy to move to your next lover with evidence of your previous still upon you.

Porcia was skilled at teasing men to erection, and with a gladiator's life dependent on his strength and stamina, she knew his arousal would be easier to achieve than with any senator she could engage. He does not disappoint. And Lais is watching. Porcia's mentor was lying face down on a lounge, chin resting on the back of her flattened palms while Caligula pounded her bottom as Milonia squeezed his.

With Spartacus firmed, Porcia straddled him. She dug long, black fingernails into his chest. He takes pain without flinching, and the depth he attains ... and his girth ... oh Venus he fills me in a way only Glade can with pitchers of water. Porcia put rhythm into her hips for both their enjoyment. No. He is inferior to Glade, no man can match the little Leluuwahn, but this gladiator is the best of the rest.

XXIX

Aelia bit her lip and blushed at the sight of Spartacus. She admired Porcia's ability to shamelessly engage with men. To her side she noticed Milonia too was in envy of Porcia, dividing her attention between her husband and the whore, more to the latter. I must leave before I embarrass myself. Where is Nate?

XXIX

Others began boarding Porcia. Rabirius was first, moving in from behind to engage with Porcia as Vespasian was tasked to engage with the Jews. Next came Cicero, a man not enamoured with female conversation who positioned himself to ensure no such conversation could be had. Hippocrates and Tacitus were last to take positions, Porcia warming the physician's instrument with her right hand while encouraging the historian's quill with her left. The skinny little historian is skinny in every way, though with him I have a chance to make history. Porcia's previous record for encouraging synchronised male climax was four. And ... yes ... Lais is still watching.

Like a minstrel with her lyre Porcia adjusted her stroke rates and pressures to tune the passion of each man to her need. She squeezed her cheeks to give Rabirius the tightness he needed while loosening her grip on Tacitus; the man's ink had begun to dribble onto her hand. As she ran her tongue up and down Cicero's little philosopher she felt a tap on her right shoulder, and without interrupting her activities she looked up to see her sister's boy toy looking down at her.

Can he not see I have no love chamber for him? There are my breasts, I suppose. She directed her eyes down to them, wondering if he would take the hint.

XXIX

Standing above her, reaching between Cicero and Hippocrates, Nate tapped Porcia on the shoulder, hoping she would take a brief respite from her work. But it was not to be. She looked up and then lowered her eyes, he thought to his crotch. He could see no part of her that could accommodate him, and had no desire to participate. When she looked up again, Nate took the opportunity to ask his question.

"I must leave now, but may I see you tomorrow?"

XXIX

Nate. Porcia had remembered his name. He seems to be asking something, however with the position she was in and her objective within reach his timing was not conducive to conversation. Deep into the needs of her lovers, Porcia had missed his question. Feeling the gladiator arch his back in readiness to throw his javelin, the architect's busying imagination approaching an epiphany, the physician revelling in awe of the human body, and the historian's quill poised to document the occasion, Porcia sensed it was only the philosopher who needed further inspiration to ensure a new pinnacle was reached in an essential field of the human condition. By pressing her tongue firmly against him and increasing the speed her head nodded in his lap, Porcia accomplished her goal with all five men synchronising their applause as she reached her own mountaintop, the historian chronicling the event on the marble at his feet.

When the male shuddering came to a stuttering, spluttering halt, Porcia's did likewise. A congratulatory nod from Lais settled Porcia into an afterglow of professional pride.

XXIX

After Nate asked his question, Porcia answered yes by nodding her head a little faster.

Good. Success with her tomorrow will bring me a step closer to achieving my goals. A capable woman that. Could a man pleasure five females at once? Dick, tongue, two hands ... that's only four ... that's not fair.

As he followed a female bottom from the room for the third time tonight, Aelia's not a patch on Julia's, Nate noticed Licinius holding the hand of a male slave. That boy has strange ears.

XXIX

Could this beautiful youth ever love me? He is all I have ever wanted in a man, all I have ever wanted to be.

Valentinius cringed as Licinius squeezed his hand.

"Young and pretty. It is always the same with him." Eprius rolled his eyes as by the hand he led a slim and naked olive skinned boy towards a blue velvet curtain. He wants what he is not.

# Chapter 30

# Cicero

##

## Ancient Rome - February 28, 41 CE

## The Future - August 12, 2075

Nate had tossed and turned all night, barely able to sleep with thoughts of Marcellina, Julia, Porcia, Jane, Julia, Cicero, and Julia, and Julia, and Julia, and all the machinations that surrounded them. But with a full day ahead of him, he was keen to get started. Having set his phone alarm to vibrate so as not to wake Scaevola, he slowly rose from their bed.

Pffffffrrrrrrtttttt. Scaevola rolled over to face him. "Where are you going?"

Well, that didn't work, did it? "I am taking out the night pots."

"Do not forget our one outside the front door."

"You can empty that yourself." Nate had heard Scaevola groaning over the pot in the wee hours of the morning, and when the aroma had wafted into his nostrils Nate had insisted the boy take the pot outside. "You need more roughage in your diet." With Nate standing in their bedroom doorway, Aquilinus bumped into him, raced past, and then stopped to enquire where his biggest brother was going.

"I am taking the night pots out. Would you like to come?"

"Oh...no thanks." He had performed the job with Nate before and did not like the sewer's aroma. Continuing to the bed, Aquilinus lifted the sheet and jumped in beside Scaevola in the hope of a wrestling match.

"Ohhhhhh poooooo, you stink, Scaevola."

"You should know better than to lift the sheet like that," Nate chided. "He revved up the Dutch oven only moments before you got in." Nate had told them that the Dutch cooked their bread in bed by heating it up with flatulence. Scaevola was sceptical, Aquilinus young and naïve; neither of them knowing where the Dutch lived.

"You are both jealous you cannot do what I can." Scaevola punctuated his sentence with a smile and another pffffffrrrrrrtttttt. Aquilinus wisely held the sheets down. Scaevola won most of their Dutch oven contests, if not for volume, then certainly for aroma.

"You think so?" Nate jumped back into the bed to make his own contribution. Aquilinus was killing himself laughing and kicked Nate in the backside as his big brother got out of bed again, and then let his own one go.

"That sounded wet, Aqua. You didn't follow through, did you?"

"No, but it is not my bed anyway." Aquilinus laughed and Nate tickled him and delivered a few fake punches into his stomach.

"I have work to do." Nate paused in the doorway to raise his left leg to the side to punch out another pffffffrrrrrrtttttt, shook his leg in the air, and walked off to the sound of Aquilinus cracking up.

"Dutch ovens again?" Aelia asked Nate as he reached under her bed for her night pot. As usual there was nothing in it. Nate smiled, raised his eyebrows, nodded, and left the room. Next was Aqua's room, and Nate was not happy to find that his little brother had left a deposit for collection. Moving to Fulvia's, he peered around the edge of her doorway before entering, hoping she was still asleep. She wasn't. She had listened for his approach, and her position told him the old cook remained ever hopeful of his warming his sword in her oven. Nate collected her pot without a word, emptied her pot into Aqua's and set off down the street to leave the contents in the sewer and raced back home. Before leaving the villa for the second time, he informed Scaevola that he was to mind Aqua, having arranged the morning off with Aelia on their way back from the palace last night.

Nate's first stop was to ask Publius if he could borrow Amanda.

"I believe she is receiving more tuition. Her command of our language has improved markedly of late. I am sorry I cannot help further, but as you can see we are very busy and have been so for the last week in preparation for the Judea campaign." There were documents all over his kitchen table, held down at the corners with small, colourfully glazed pots. "Did you know Lucius and I were chosen to supply the legions with wine and grain?"

"No. Well done. I did know you had for some time been expecting it, though I find that strange given Vespasian was only appointed to lead the campaign last night."

"The military always prepare in advance of the politicians." Publius had supplied the legions before. "Why do you need Amanda?" He stopped his activities to await the answer. He liked Nate, but always in the back of his mind was the nagging knowledge that Nate and Amanda had enjoyed each other's company.

"I've had an idea for a line of women's clothing, and I need Amanda as a model. Because the designs originate in Australia, she could also be helpful in explaining them to a tailor."

"I see. And the proceeds?"

"Seventy-thirty."

"Fifty-fifty."

"Sixty-forty, or I find another model. It will take me a little longer without Amanda, but I can do it without her."

"Agreed."

Before setting off to find her, Nate exchanged greetings with Lucius, who had been surprisingly quiet at the other end of the table.

Nate paused outside the door of Philandros' house, not liking what he heard.

"Your tan has no lines, Amanda. Do you live naked at home?"

"Lay naked in courtyard. Sun kiss feels good." I wear clothes only when Publi insists.

Her Italian is improving, and that was enough for Nate. He hasn't seen her naked before, so I can stop this before it starts. Nate found Philandros spreadeagled on the bed, tied to each bedpost with Amanda dancing around the bed in her red stilettos, crucifix, and a sequined face veil, the remainder of her belly dancer costume scattered across the floor.

"Eh hmmm." She still has the pencil Brazilian.

Red faced Philandros squirmed to escape his bonds, clearly concerned that he had no way of covering his crotch.

"Nate. How are you? I did not expect you for lessons today."

"Clearly. Come on, Amanda. I have permission from Publius, your husband," Nate directed the last to Philandros, "to take you with me today." He waited for her to dress before setting off with her following.

"Should we have untied him?"

Nate stopped. "Oh shit. We'll come back for him later," if I remember. "You're so much more confident these days, Amanda. What's happened?" He set off again, Amanda now by his side.

"You've noticed?"

"Difficult not to." He looked her up and down. That costume suits you.

"It was the nudity, Nate. When we landed here I felt ashamed of my naked body."

"But you're beautiful."

"Thank you, Nate," she placed a hand on his arm, "but I was ashamed to be naked in public. It was only when I accepted there was nothing I could do about it, saw approval in men's eyes and a desire from some women to be me, that I became comfortable with myself. I had longed for confidence for years, and now I have it. Every woman should try walking naked in public ..."

"In heels?'

"... yes, in high heels; it's so liberating."

"And sexy."

"Sexiness is an attitude, not just a look. The attitude allows me to take risks, enjoy the approving stares I receive and not care for those who don't care for me. I even take a dominant role during sex...sometimes." She winked, leaned close and pinched his bottom.

"I noticed."

"I still enjoy being tied down, but now I enjoy tying Publi down. It's thrilling to spank him and he likes it too. We spank each other, and I purchased a..."

"I thought you were happy with Publius." I want no more details. "Why cheat on him?"

"That was my first time with Philandros. Publi is a nice man. He works hard."

"Publius hasn't made love to you lately, has he?" She gave a frown and a nod. "Why do you think he lost interest?"

"He desperately wants children, and as you know, I can't; we can't." Amanda pointed under her arm to the contraceptive implant.

"I see. I'll research it on the net and see what can be done." And I'll check if walking naked in public has given other women confidence. I would've thought you'd need to be confident before you take your clothes off. Perhaps it was that way with Jane.

On their way to the Ludus, Nate explained his need for a model, and a brand name. Amanda agreed to be his model, and would think on a name.

The leather armourer Gordianus had not made women's clothing before, and was not keen to do so until Nate drew the lines of a G-string and a bra on Amanda's skin. She wore her heels, crucifix, and face veil. True to his original idea, Nate called the bra a "nate," having explained as much to Amanda on the way. He next stood behind her to hold, push together, and lift her breasts to show Gordianus the effect of a push-up nate.

"May I?" Gordianus asked.

"Of course."

The thick fingers of a tradesman began to shake as they impersonated a push-up nate while the eyes of passing gladiators appreciated Amanda.

There are so many rough men here. Amanda held her head high, her chest out, and flicked her hair over her shoulders.

"Do you think you might need to take some measurements?" you lecherous old bastard.

"Ahhh...yes. Of course." As Gordianus completed his measurements, Nate turned to a rich deep voice behind him.

"Hail, Nate."

"Spartacus?" Nate knew him by sight and reputation but had never been introduced to the famous gladiator. The two made their introductions quickly with a Roman forearm handshake, exchanged pleasantries, and Nate introduced and enamoured Amanda to an interested gladiator.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Amanda." Spartacus held her right hand between his, and kissed it lightly. "You have lovely eyes."

He noticed her eyes?

With her belly dancer costume in hand Amanda gave a confident reply in Italian. "Pleasure it mine."

She makes no move to dress. Interesting crotch.

"Amanda is happily married to one of the merchants supplying Vespasian's legions," so back off, muscle man. I'm sure Publius will marry her one day. "Put your clothes on," he whispered in Amanda's ear.

"I'm not married yet," she said in English.

Spartacus turned his gaze half towards Nate. "Your potion has helped me greatly." Still no move to dress. "If there is anything I can do for you, weapons training, perhaps. I know you train at the Ludus; please call on me."

"I certainly will." That was a surprise. I could use some free coaching.

"I must go. Last night I arranged a position within Vespasian legions, and before I meet with his son Titus to determine my role I must keep a commitment to an old friend to make arrangements for the care of his familia in my absence. I hope we meet again, Amanda." Stunning breasts. I will wager you come to see me before I depart for Judea. You would not be the first married woman to sheath this gladiator's sword.

Amanda smiled, and ignored Nate's judgemental look.

Spartacus bowed, this time kissed both of Amanda's hands, and turned to leave. He stopped and turned back to Nate. "How can I take your potion with me?"

Nate held his chin. The antibots won't last stored in pots for what would probably be months. They're only good for a few days at best. "You can't. I would need to go with you."

"I shall arrange it." Spartacus strode away.

Nate looked at Amanda. "I think I'm going to Judea. That could be exciting." He fumbled with Sarah's ruby ring in his pocket. After three pampered years at the tennis club, and an easy life in Aelia's household, his interest was piqued by the thought of roughing it with Spartacus. "Could you mind this for me while I'm away? I don't want Sarah's ring lost or stolen in Judea." One day Julia will wear it.

"Oh Nate. Can I come with you? Do you think Jesus could be alive?"

"I'm going to receive weapons training from Spartacus! And we're travelling together to Judea. I'll need Aelia's approval. You know, I have wondered on an off since our first day here whether Jesus may be in Judea. Do you think he might be alive?"

Why doesn't he listen? "I hope so, and I want to go to Judea with you. Publi will allow it." She tried Sarah's ring on different fingers until it slid snuggly on the third finger of her right hand.

They both stood still for a moment within their own thoughts.

I could meet Jesus. I'll need to buy new clothes though, ones fit for a woman of faith.

If there is a chance Jesus is alive, Amanda may want to come too. There's no way Publius will allow that. Another random turn of events to change my life?

I could be naked under a nun's habit ... with heels.

Nate looked to the sky and noticed a silver-haired Leluuwahn above him. I don't know why you're using me, but you are. The tennis club gave me the skills I need for this world, and you were there. Now I have connections to take me to the Holy land, and you're here. What is waiting for me in Judea? I'm an atheist, so it can't be Jesus.

Or a vestal's gown; I love those ribbons. "When will you be leaving?"

"Come on, let's go." Nate put an arm around Amanda's shoulders to direct her towards the palace. Regardless of what the Leluuwahn wants, it's better to act than to ponder.

"Have you grown your fringe out?"

Finally he notices. "Yes, Nate."

"And you should put some clothes on."

"Not until Publi marries me," and maybe not even then.

XXX

Porcia woke on daybreak and departed from her usual routine by lounging in bed, staring out at the clear blue sky through her open window as a brisk morning breeze rolled gently in. Her crotch, her bottom, and her breasts all ached from the attention they received the previous night.

What a success; coin from the men and praise from Lais. She nestled into her blankets, sore but satisfied. That hard-bodied gladiator, oh my Venus, and the architect, the philosopher, the physician, and the historian. Five at once. I did it, and with the potion I no longer have need to constantly relieve myself. A pity I had no room to accommodate its maker; another time.

If only he had a way to stop my unwanted pregnancies. She was careful to only work during the two weeks post her cycle, but that was no guarantee. Perhaps I could ask Pomponia to ask him for a different potion, one to prevent pregnancy? Such an improbable relationship they have. She middle-aged and unattractive; he young, toned, and beautiful. Perhaps Pomponia has perfected the techniques I gave her?

The thought of pregnancy reminded Porcia of the scandalous news she had heard from Lais. Julia Drusilla, a Vestal and Caligula's middle sister, sent away with child. Tut tut. Even juicier is the suspected father, her brother. Lais had been discreet in the telling, whispering the news into Porcia's ear as they took turns entertaining the last man, Spartacus. The only person I know sufficiently close to the emperor to confirm the story is Sarai. The little one will tell me, she trusts me.

Stretching and yawning, she rose to flex her body and centre her thoughts; Boobia called it yoga. The breeze strengthened as she meditated. "Namaste." Finished, she set off to find a healthy breakfast in the brothel's kitchen; it was her duty as brothel madam to be a good example for the girls and boys under her care, considering them her familia.

"Good morning. Have you seen Sarai, Boobia?"

Boobia was cutting fruit in the kitchen, and gave a wry smile. "I think she is in the pleasure garden with Hornia." That was my tray of fruit.

Eating as she walked, Porcia crossed paths with Jucia. "Good morning. Have you seen Sarai, Jucia?"

"Yes, she is over there on the seat with Hornia." Jucia, still a little hungry after breakfast, lifted some blackberries from Porcia's tray and gave a small chuckle.

"Good morning, girls. Would you please leave us, Hornia?"

"I am sure I could." Hornia departed with a smirk at her pun.

"The girls appear in good spirits today, Sarai," Porcia said, commenting on the smiles she had received from her courtesans. She sat on the marble bench beside Sarai.

"They are happy in their work, Porcia, yes." I had trusted you until last night. Nate is a friend of Glade, yes. I will trust Nate now.

"I heard something last night that you may be able to help me with."

"I will try, Porcia, yes."

"Some fruit?"

"Thank you, no."

"Of all in the palace, you seem the one dearest to the emperor."

"Perhaps. Milonia can monopolise his attention, at times."

"Have you heard that the emperor's sister, Julia Drusilla, has been banished?"

"Yes, Porcia."

"Do you know why? Rumour has it she is pregnant."

That matter is private. "The emperor has punished her, yes."

I am closing in on the dirty laundry of the imperial familia. "Punished her for what, becoming pregnant?"

"She has been punished regularly, Porcia. I am not sure why. I am not sure if Julia Drusilla knows why, no."

"How did he punish her, Sarai?" Sarai did not answer. She is hiding something. "No matter. Remember to eat well." I'll have it from her when she is ready.

"May I ask something, yes?"

"Of course. Ask anything at all."

"I met a man last night, the one who supplies Gaius with his potion. The man knows Glade, yes. He told me you also know Glade and I wondered why you have not mentioned that to me."

Porcia stopped chewing.

XXX

"Did you feel that?"

"Of course I felt it, silly. How could I not?" Sabina looked lovingly over her knitting towards Valentinius. It was a blue sky morning, the young couple were sitting on a marble bench seat in a garden adjacent to the palace kitchen, he with his hands on her pregnant belly.

"Do you wonder what it is? A boy or a girl? I do."

"I am sure we are having a girl, but I would love a boy if that comes to pass. I also love the way my man runs his hands over my tummy." Dropping her knitting beside her to hold his hand between hers, they looked into each other's eyes and smiled.

"I think the movement, and the kicks, are too strong for a girl. That was an excellent idea of your mothers to use a name that would suit either sex. Iovita. I wonder what his life will be like." Valentinius took a deep breath, and slowly released it. "I must rescue him, and us, from this place."

"Is your pain easing?"

"It is my pride that hurts more than my body." I hate what that man encouraged me do. He shuddered and looked away, and saw the coin the senator had given him scattered on the grass at their feet.

Sabina never asked Valentinius of the ways the elite of Rome used him, and he seldom spoke of it. Early in their relationship she had been required to serve food at a feast, naked, and had witnessed his submission. When afterwards he had expressed his anger at the way she had been groped, dismissing his own humiliation, she knew he was the one for her. They would endure what they could not change and lose themselves in each other's arms whenever time and circumstance permitted.

Valentinius had at times been overwhelmed by hatred of the Romans for the humiliations he was forced endure. Once he had been on the brink of self-destruction when Sabina caught and stopped him from taking a knife to a feast. Until last night our child gave him motivation to live. This morning Valentinius confided in her that a senator brought him to climax. His masculinity could be repaired with that coin. She knelt at his feet, placed her hands on his knees and looked up to him.

"I have seen a new tunic in the Forum. Will you purchase it for me, my man?"

XXX

"I wish you would listen to me, Nate." Whack!

"Shit! What was that for?" Nate rubbed his arm.

"Because you never pay attention to what I say and do. I told you I don't want to wear clothes and you tell me to put them on. I've been growing my fringe out since we landed and you've only just noticed."

I've noticed your nipples going hard in this breeze.

"I asked if you think Jesus would be alive and then you ask me the same question. I asked if I can go to Judea with you, and when you will be leaving, and you don't answer." Whack! "Do you understand now?"

"Hail, Nate. It is good to see you again."

Saved. "Hail, Rabirius." The two men exchanged a Roman handshake, and Nate glanced sideways at Amanda, rubbing his arm. She still hasn't dressed.

"How fortunate our paths should cross. I remember you saying you would come to me. However, I thought I would venture out to find you." And who does he have with him?

"Fortunate indeed. May I introduce a friend of mine?" His eyes say yes. "This is Amanda. She is married to a successful grain merchant. Amanda, this is Rabirius, architect of the amphitheatrum."

"The what?" Amanda asked in English.

"The Colosseum, and put your clothes on," Nate replied in English. "And yes I heard you don't want to but do it anyway."

"No."

"From the language you use I presume this beautiful butterfly is a compatriot from your homeland." A fetching woman.

"You presume correctly," Nate replied in Italian. "Amanda was my travelling companion. My journey would have been far less entertaining without her."

"I am sure. Have you given more thought on the architecture of your land?"

Not for one second. "I am sorry, Rabirius, but I really can't think of any building in Australia that would compare to the amphitheatrum, or the many other imposing public buildings in your great city."

"I see. If you do remember anything, I would be..."

"Bridge and Opera Home, Nate." He likes my breasts. Amanda flicked her hair back.

Shit. Why didn't I think of that?

"Your lady friend knows something of architecture? Could you describe or perhaps draw them...Amanda, was it?"

"Draw," Amanda said, continuing her Italian before reverting to English. "I could draw them for him, Nate. I went to art school."

"You never told me that."

"You never showed interest in my talents outside the bedroom."

Touché. If I can dump her on Rabirius before visiting Porcia, I might as well.

Rabirius stood quietly, not understanding their language, pondering the reason for their argument. It gave him an opportunity to admire Amanda's 'design'.

"How far to your home? I have some interests to pursue this morning, and perhaps Amanda could work with you until I return. Would that be agreeable?"

"Most agreeable. I live only a short walk to the north."

"Very well. I shall come with you so that I know where to collect Amanda. Would midday be suitable?"

"Most suitable, and perhaps you could both dine with me then?"

"I would enjoy that. Amanda?"

"Yes, me enjoy." The three set of.

"An interesting hairstyle you have there, my dear."

"Thank." Amanda gave a satisfied nod to Rabirius, and stared at Nate. "It's good to know someone notices my hair."

He wasn't looking at your head.

Before allowing Nate to depart, Rabirius insisted on giving Nate a tour of his villa. He was proud of his creation, and Nate was relieved to find it did not contain a four-poster bed.

"If you do end up having sex with him," Nate whispered in English behind his hand, "just sit on his face. That nose of his should give you all the length you need."

"Nate!"

"And put on some clothes."

"Only if you take me to Judea."

XXX

"Have you thought further on the subject of our discussion last night?"

"I have."

"And?"

"And, while I agree with much, no, all of your thoughts," Claudius said, looking away from Cicero, "I cannot see myself making demands of my familia. Your words have wisdom, while my heart lacks courage. Do you have words that could fill me to overflowing with valour?"

"If you believe courage is not in your character, you should look to your other traits for aid. The more definitely his own a man's character is, the better it fits him. How do you view your character, my friend?"

"My master is trusting and generous. He values justice, is well read, and is prepared to listen to others, acknowledge their ideas and judge them on merit rather than measuring them against the man."

"Thank you, Narcissus," Claudius said to his slave as he patted the little white dog Narcissus held.

"Your slave appears to also be your friend, Claudius. Admirable."

"Indeed. As Aesop said in his fables, 'A man is known by the company he keeps.' The traits he confers on me one could easily portray as his."

"I thank you, Master." Narcissus bowed from the waist.

The three walked on in silence until Claudius realised Cicero was also heading to the palace brothel. "Do you wish to again experience last night's women before you depart?"

"No. I wish to speak with their madam. I intend to hold a dinner party at my villa and would appreciate the company of three of her girls from last night. Can you guess the three I refer to?"

"Boobia, Jucia and Hornia?"

"Yes, names utterly appropriate for their attributes and craft."

"And craftsman-like in their calling," Claudius added. "I enjoy conversations with Hornia," though not during sex.

"Indeed." I do my utmost to avoid speaking with women.

"I do not understand Licinius and his ilk, wanting males over females."

I can, Narcissus thought. He had difficulty achieving erection for his wife, and the thought played on his mind which made matters worse. "Will you seek Porcia's services also?"

"When Porcia informs me of their, and her, availability, I shall determine the day of my dinner. You are both invited, of course, and you, little one." Cicero patted Narcissus' dog on the head. "Does he have a name?"

"Not yet. I purchased him only yesterday in the Forum and am yet to bestow a name upon him. Do you have a suggestion?"

"Pooch," Cicero offered without hesitation.

"Pooch? I have not heard that name before. Do you like it, Narcissus?"

"Pooch. I think I do. How are you, Pooch?" Narcissus rubbed Pooch's head fondly.

"We are here." Cicero puffed out his chest, holding the lapel of his toga in one hand. "Boobia, are you not?" Boobia was chewing on a chicken leg. I remember chewing on her nipples last night.

"You remembered me."

"Every delicious piece of you. Who named you, you and your friends?"

"Porcia."

"Really?" Claudius posed. "She named you well. Have you seen Porcia, Boobia? My fellow senator would like to speak with her."

"Through there, in the pleasure garden," Boobia informed them, smiling as she pointed the way. "Last I saw her, she was seeking Sarai."

"The Leluuwahn girl?" Narcissus had heard of the talents of Leluuwahn females, and had been disappointed to not witness those talents last night.

"Yes."

"We thank you, Boobia," Cicero said. I enjoy using her name. And the three men walked to where she had indicated.

On the way they crossed paths with another of the flirtatious three, and Cicero again flaunted his memory. "You are Jucia, are you not?"

"Always."

"You have unusual eyes and a lovely smile, my dear. Have you seen Porcia?" Claudius asked.

"She is in the garden, I believe." Jucia indicated the direction, and they continued on.

"Hornia." Claudius recognised the buttocks of the young woman he so often enjoyed.

"Oh, hello, Uncle Claudius. I like the way you shake." She smiled and flicked his nose with her finger.

"Uncle Claudius?" Cicero was fascinated by the thought.

"Not paternally. I have come to know Hornia quite well." Claudius blushed.

"Have you seen Porcia, Hornia?"

"I am not sure that is possible," Narcissus said, remembering her performance with the five men the night before as he stroked Pooch's head.

"Over there, in the garden." After directing them to her madam, Hornia squeezed the arse of her "Uncle" as he strolled by. "May we talk later, Uncle?"

"I look forward to it."

"I hope I am not disturbing you, Porcia?" Cicero asked. She was sitting with the Leluuwahn girl.

"Of course not, Senator. Some fruit, gentlemen?" Your arrival gives me time to construct an answer for this girl. Each man picked some grapes, Narcissus feeding one to Pooch. "How may I help you?"

XXX

"Excuse me. I wish to speak with Porcia."

Boobia did not smile for the slave she knew her friend had eyes for. You are not in Julia's league, though in your favour you did remain virtuous last night. "In the garden." She placed one hand on a hip and pointed with the other.

Nate stood at the entry of the garden in awe of the scene before him. It was an oasis of beauty, manicured shrubbery and lawns in a parkland setting, surrounded and partitioned by walls painted with murals embedded with precious stones that glinted in the morning sun. Tigers with ruby eyes and lithe bodies striped with onyx and orange stones prowled a wall, leaping from their hiding places to devour prey animals while birds made of jade, topaz, and rose quartz took flight. The surroundings enhanced the beauty of the women who sat within it.

Seeing Porcia with Sarai, Nate was surprised to also find Cicero, Claudius, and Narcissus with her. Should I disturb them? Cicero is pointing to me.

"Is that not the fellow from Ohstrayla, the one with the secret medicine?"

"Yes, I believe it is, Senator. His name is Nate, if I remember correctly. Shall I collect him?" Narcissus asked his master. The senators had concluded their business with the madam.

Nate accepted the fruit Porcia offered him, and complimented her on the sweetness of her grapes. Although he had spoken briefly to Porcia the night before, he had not been personally introduced to her or her male companions, and so made his own introduction.

"Good to see you again, Nate. As we have finished our business here, we shall depart to leave you to yours." Cicero gathered up his friend and his friend's slave to leave.

"Excuse me, Senator." I must seize the opportunity. "My apologies, gentlemen, I meant Senator Cicero. May I speak with you?"

"Ah...yes, I see no reason not to. I shall meet with you later, Claudius?"

"Perhaps, though I have received a request to meet with Agrippina, so perhaps not. Another day, I am sure."

Agrippina? Interesting, Nate thought as he watched Claudius and Narcissus leave the garden. Hornia met them at the garden entry. Very interesting.

"What would you like to speak of, young man?"

Nate had thought the process of negotiating with Porcia, and through her, Cicero, would take a few days at least, but now... "I have a proposition for you, for both of you."

"Go on."

Good. He looks interested. I have a chance.

I shall stay quiet. The philosopher prefers women that way.

"The potion I supply you at a discounted price, would you like to receive it for free?"

I have to speak now. "The price has been increasing lately, so yes, but free at what price? Do you require favours?"

"When you first received the potion, Pomponia passed on your offer of favours which I declined. I would like to accept your offer now, though not for me, but for him." Nate gestured to Cicero.

"I beg your pardon?" Cicero's head was back, his eyes narrowed.

Sarai sat quietly on the bench, listening. Porcia has not answered my question, no. Nate must speak the truth.

"I provide you with the potion, and you provide favours to Senator Cicero at no charge."

"No charge to Porcia, and her services at no charge to me. Who is to pay you, young man?"

"I am a foreigner and a slave in your land. I need guidance in Roman ways. Your wisdom is famed even in my land, Senator. I seek to learn from you. I am hoping you will become my mentor."

Cicero clutched his lapels with each hand, and squinted down his nose. "You are a slave, are you not?"

"Yes."

"The mentoring I can provide would be more valuable to a man of higher position."

His mind is both quick and egotistical, Nate determined.

"Why would a slave seek such mentoring, I ask myself."

Does he want me to answer that?

"You have no answer for me?"

"I wish to become a senator."

Surprise, disbelief, and amusement were on the faces of Cicero and Porcia. Sarai sat still, quietly listening, not judging. "Yes, I see you do need education in our ways, young man. A slave cannot become a senator of Rome. You could be freed, and then your sons, should you have any, and assuming they are sufficiently capable, could become senators, but not you. It is the law, young foreigner."

"I am aware of that, Senator. However, I intend to find a way around that issue." Surprise and disbelief returned to the face of Cicero. Porcia returned to her seat to continue eating fruit with Sarai.

"You will not. It is the law."

"The law can be an ass at times, and this is one of those times. Do your laws never change?"

"Of course they do. However, not regarding this." Cicero lifted his chin.

"And the world was once considered flat, was it not?"

Cicero gave Nate a flat stare. How would this slave from a previously unknown far-flung foreign backwater know the world is round? The answer does not matter. "That law will not be changed, though with your knowledge of the natural world and your cure all potion I find you intriguing. I shall consider your proposition."

"And you?" Nate asked Porcia.

"If the senator agrees, so shall I. May I talk with you in private?" Porcia took Nate by the arm and led him to another area of the garden.

Nate needs this man's help, yes. With the others beyond earshot, Sarai turned to Cicero. "You may have my favours also, yes."

"I beg your pardon."

"Agree to that man's request, and I shall give you my favours also, yes, though you must tell no one." Sarai stood in front of Cicero, looking up into his eyes and extended her vaginal tongue to caress his crotch.

"I agree."

Sarai did not need to hear his words to know he was willing.

She had slept little after manipulating the emperor the night before. Nate's information had set her to thinking. In the palace she had no control over her life, no choice but to stay, and no ability to determine with whom she coupled. If she used her abilities and expanded her range of partners perhaps one might seek to make her his own and take her away. Once away, Glade could find an opportunity for rescue. Rescue would be dangerous, with Gaius so jealous. This man Cicero will be my first, and it could help Glade's friend Nate, yes, it might. I am being changed, and not for the better. But where will I meet him?

XXX

"I wished to thank you in private for helping my sister, and myself through her."

"It is my pleasure. While I have you alone, I would like to make an offer to buy the Leluuwahn girl."

"Sarai tells me that you know her friend Glade. Is that correct?"

Sarai must have spoken to her; otherwise she couldn't know that. Pomponia knows I met Glade while camping, but I doubt she would have mentioned it. "Yes."

"I will explain my position to Sarai and hope she understands. I did not tell her of my commitment to Glade because I did not want to raise in her hope of rescue until rescue was on the horizon."

"I see." I wish I could believe you.

"It is a lie, of course. She will not be leaving the palace."

"I am sure Glade will be interested to know that."

"You will not tell him."

"Why not?"

"Because if you inform him of my duplicity, I will ensure that the reputation of your mistress, and by association her household, is tarnished beyond repair. I am not the only one to enjoy the pleasures a Leluuwahn male can give. A hint of scandal whispered in the ear of one such as Licinius, and your desire to become a senator shall never be fulfilled."

So Aelia knows Glade intimately, or is that a lie? "Your sister is part of the household you threaten to ruin."

Porcia smiled, raised an eyebrow, and place a grape on her tongue.

XXX

Cicero looks more flustered than I feel. Why is Sarai standing so close to him? It doesn't matter. He had sown the seeds of his plan and now needed patience to wait for an answer. Saying his goodbyes, Nate wanted to return home as quickly as he could. I must be there when Julia arrives.

"Before you leave, young man, perhaps you could join me for dinner tonight?" Cicero moved away from Sarai, but not without glancing over his shoulder as he did.

"It would be my pleasure." I don't think Aelia will stop me. Cicero commenced providing complicated directions to his villa. Why don't they have street names and numbers?

"No need to continue, Senator," Porcia interrupted. "I shall deliver him to you."

"Excellent."

Yes, excellent, you bitch. You're as bad as Jane. I need to get out of here. Julia could be waiting. Nate raced off, forgetting his scheduled lunch with Rabirius, his commitment to collect Amanda, and his intention to release Philandros.

XXX

"I do not think she is coming, Nate."

"She will." As he paced his shop, unable to sit down, Nate looked at the posy of violets in a vase on the shop counter that also waited for Julia. Vivid, defenceless and beautiful. Am I worthy of her?

"I doubt it."

"Piss off and do something else, Scaevola. I do not want anyone here when she arrives."

"You are going to keep customers out with an 'open' sign on the door?"

"When she walks in I will turn the sign over. If anyone is in the shop, I will tell them I am closing for the privacy of the Vestal."

"Good luck, and try not to get yourself flogged to death."

"Can you keep Aqua away? I do not want him seeing her and telling Aelia again."

"You are on your own there. I am having nothing to do with this."

Nate paced and waited ... waited and paced ... and waited ... and paced ... and eventually sat down. Excitement flooded through him every time a woman entered the shop, only to be dashed when it wasn't his goddess. He busied himself with tending a fire to melt the wax he may need, his attention to the flame allowing time to tick faster. Perhaps she's tending the sacred flame. When the latest woman departed, he slumped in his chair, head in his hands.

Either I have been a fool, or she saw me with Jane who seems forever ordained to be my rain.

XXX

Twenty-two and never been kissed, Julia Livilla Germanicus Caesar had thought all night on the man who stumbled over his tongue when talking to her, the man who looked at her as a woman, not as an ornament to place on a pedestal to be revered. Since her brother had unrequested granted her the privileges of the Vestals, no man had dared look at her twice. Nate ogles me. He did so in the forum, in his shop, out on the street, and in the palace. It feels wonderful to have a man's eyes upon me, and how wicked was I to exaggerate the sway of my hips for his benefit.

Her position within the Vestals gave Julia more respect than most females in the patriarchal Roman society, plus a small slice of power. Respect and power can be fulfilling, though provide no warmth on a cold winter's night. I want what other girls have, a man to love, to confide in, someone to hold me close and keep me safe.

He is exotic, too, with his fair hair and tanned skin, which speak of his barbarian background. His blue eyes are like pools of water, and the muscles in his arms so thick and hard no one could hurt me while I am within them as I was last night when he chased and caught me in my dream. Julia hugged herself. Can I tame him?

And our lives have parallels. I was forced into the Temple, now trapped by expectation and authority. As a slave Nate would surely feel the same, subject to the whims of his mistress. We serve different masters and a shared frustration that the reigns of our lives are controlled by others.

I want him to myself today. What time to arrive? Too early, and I will look over eager for his company. Too late, and he may have no time for me when duty calls him to his mistress.

Julia arrived on the eighth hour to find Nate head in hands on a stool facing away from the door. No customers, and his young brother and friend are not here. She turned the shop sign to 'closed' and floated through the door to consider waxes and smell soaps as she eyed Nate. He still has not moved. He looks so dejected. I hope it is due to my late arrival. Are those flowers for me? She walked up and stood behind him. I want to lift my tunic over your head, Nate, instead placing a hand on each of his shoulders.

"Shit." He jumped and turned around, glad to have sworn in English. "You startled me," he said, reverting to Italian.

"Sorry. I should not have shuck up on you. Googday. You seemed...forlorn." I should ask Philandros what 'shit' means.

"And googday to you too. I am a little tired, that is all." He was not lying; he was tired from the night before. He had been unable to sleep, dreaming on what today would bring. If I look forlorn it's because you didn't arrive earlier, but I'm not going to tell you that. He took the flowers from the vase. "These are for you." She smiles. "I will close the shop to give you privacy." Who turned the sign to 'closed'? He locked the doors to the street and the hallway.

"You look lovely today." He had no thought of flattery, simply describing what he saw. Her flowing gown and cascading ribbons gave his goddess an angelic aura.

"These flowers have a delightful perfume." I need to hold you against me to stop my heart from beating through my chest.

Her nipples are pressing through her tunic. Don't stare. It's cold out. That must be it, but why would she wear a thin tunic in cold weather? I wish I hadn't retracted from her hands. They were so soft. Don't stand here like an idiot.

"May I show you my range of soaps? They each have a pleasant fragrance and leave your skin feeling smooth and fresh. Try this one. It is infused with honey." Using water he kept on a pedestal for sampling, Nate lathered the soap to gently wash her forearm. She looks like a goddess, feels like silk, and the honey makes me want to devour her.

He wiped the soap away with a towel. "I am not sure if it is possible, but do you think your skin feels smoother now, and softer? Is the fragrance to your liking?"

"It does feel softer, and..." Julia lifted her forearm to her nose, "yes, I adore the fragrance." But most of all I enjoyed your touch. "Is it expensive?" She plucked two violets from her posy and placed one behind each ear.

"You may have it as a sample, and another block also. Violet is your colour. You make those flowers look beautiful."

"Oh...thank you." Hold me. "I pay for soup."

Soup? Oh. "No. The soup is a gift. The play of colours between the violets and your hazel eyes is so pretty, enticing actually."

Enticing! He remembers what I said. "Thank you, Nate." Kiss me. Please Venus make him kiss me. I must slow my breathing.

Silence descended, neither knowing what to say next.

"Wax, I was going to wax you...I...I mean I was going to show you how to use the wax, do you remember?" Shit, stop tripping over your tongue. "We were out of stock yesterday, and you were coming back today to get some," oh shit, "get some wax I mean," not sex. "Do you remember?"

"Yes, Nate. I remember." Straining to calm her breathing, Julia gave him a coy look out of the corner of her eye. I make him so flustered. It is only fair; he does that to me. She placed a hand on his arm hoping to accentuate his discomfort. I become so mischievous around him.

"I, umm, I will get the wax." She's twirling her hair. I'm sure that means something. The women he had been with had always made the first move on him, making their intentions quickly known. Jane had grabbed him and taken him to bed. The tennis club had put their requirements in writing, and Pomponia had organised their location, time, and activities. Now he had to make the first move, I feel like a virgin all over again.

"But first, where would you like me to wax?" Both their minds went straight to the same place. Julia looked down, to the side, and blushed. "Your arms?"

"I had them waxed last week." She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him.

Her eyes are gorgeous. The violet and hazel go so well together. "Oh...your?" Nate suggested, pointing under her arms.

"Last week also." She interlocked her fingers. Do not let him see you shaking.

"Your legs?" Please let it be her legs.

"Those too, last week." There is only once place left for him to ask. Will he?

There is only one place left. Should I ask? "Ummmmm...that...that leaves..." Nate fumbled for words, looking down to her crotch, away, back to her crotch and then up to her face.

Julia nodded, took a deep breath, and gave him a smile.

Holy shit! "I see. I mean, I do not see. I...I understand...I ..." Stop stuffing around and get on with it. Be confident. "Please take a seat." He pulled over a bench chair, wiping it down with a dusting rag he and Scaevola kept behind the counter and gestured for Julia to straddle it. "Here. I will put your flowers back in the vase. I just need a moment to melt the wax before we can start."

Nate closed the door to the street behind him, leant back against it and took a deep breath. Thank Christ the fire is still going. The wax was close to ready, only requiring a few moments more a little closer to the flame.

"It is going to happen." Julia skipped around the shop. Stop. Be a woman not a girl. I will not have intercourse with him today. I will need to bare myself to him though, and he will need to touch me. Boobia, Jucia, and Hornia, had advised her to relax and enjoy whatever happened, though Boobia advised against seeing him. My crotch is ablaze. I should sit. She did, crossed her legs, recrossed them and recrossed them again. Should I allow this? Boobia said there will be nothing but trouble if this continues; my heart says there will be nothing in life if I live without him; my head says there will be trouble if Gaius discovers I have been unfaithful to Rome, and trouble for...everything...sharing my life with someone so close I can keep no secrets from. He makes my head spin.

Nate returned, relocked the door, and asked her to lie back on the bench chair. She flicked her hair back as she did. "I will get a cushion for your head," he said, and retrieved one from the stool behind the counter. "There you go."

Julia wriggled on her back to make herself comfortable on the hard wooden bench. I can stop him if this feels wrong. It does feel wrong, but somehow feeling wrong feels right!

Kneeling between her legs, Nate placed the wax on the ground. With a thrill he had not felt since his first night with Jane, he untied the ribbons around her waist to loosen her tunic, his hands lightly shaking. He lifted her long tunic to reveal smooth and slender calves that invited him to lift her dress higher. With his chest rising and falling in deep breaths, showing no gallantry and great enthusiasm, he lifted her dress further to reveal thighs that looked soft and smooth, and...

"Holy shit," Nate said in English. "You could make a rug out of that." She has the hairiest pussy I've ever seen. Fuck. I don't think I've melted enough wax.

"Is something wrong?" I must learn the meaning of 'shit'. And did he say he could make a rug out of me? Perhaps something is wrong. Am I deformed in some way?

Nate lowered the hem of her tunic to reveal his eyes to her, and reverted to Italian. "You need a trim first." He laid her tunic back down on her torso. It left her crotch exposed for him to run his fingers through her forest, attempting to reassure her with a smile. I think there are scissors behind the counter.

His touch is glorious. Be still my heart. Should I remove all my clothes? It would be so naughty to be naked in front of him. Do it. Do it. With Nate's head below the shop counter foraging for scissors, Julia sat up, removed her tunic, and reclined to await his return. Wrong does feel right.

Wow. She's naked except for the flowers in her hair and her shoes. He stopped momentarily, eyes wide. Practical shoes too. I'll buy her some heels. Nice legs and...don't stare. You've seen naked women before. He knelt at her side and commenced trimming her pussy, hands shaking.

I want to regrow that hair to have him trim me again. "Did you do this for your friend last night, mothers double? I know she uses your products."

She knows I know Jane. Don't lie. "I have never done this for anyone but you."

"Oh. Are you a virgin too?" I hope he is.

"Not quite." Not quite? How can anyone be 'not quite' a virgin, you idiot.

Not quite? He must mean he is inexperienced. How wonderful. We can discover our sexuality together.

That's tidier. Nate ran a hand across her trimmed mound, revelling in the enjoyment he spied in her nipples. If I increase the pressure just a little...

Julia's hands went to her crotch, oh my, and she squeezed her legs around them. Relax. The girls said to relax. Relax. Oh, Hornia. I wish you were here to help me.

I can't have her hands down there. How can I ... her ribbons. Hmm. Will she trust me?

With her hands tied behind her head to the seat, Julia arched her back and lifted her bottom.

Testing the bonds. Good. She's feisty.

No avenue for escape. He holds my reigns. Is he trustworthy? Relax and discover the girl's world.

Nate checked her wrists. Good, the ribbons aren't cutting her. She could pull those knots free if she pulls hard enough, but I doubt it.

"My wax is not like others you may have used. It will be marginally hotter, but will hurt no more than traditional Roman waxing. Do not worry; I have a way to dull the pain."

"I will try." Her voice quavering, Julia closed her eyes. My crotch is on fire. Hurry, Nate.

Kneeling between her thighs, he spread her legs.

He can ogle my all, but does he see me?

Her thighs are so shapely.

Does he think my legs fat?

God I want her.

His hands are delicious.

Nate lifted his wax, dribbled it onto her, and spread it with a wooden spatula.

Oh my, that is hot, and his up and down motion... hurry. She lifted her crotch to his tool.

A good sign; she likes the feel of my wood. When the spreading was complete ...

Relax, relax.

... Nate's hands lingered on her thighs while he waited for the wax to cool, and then with the tip of one finger ...

He touches me. Touch me, touch me anywhere.

... Nate ensured that the wax and the moment were just right. She shakes. "I feel your uncertainty, Julia. Do not worry. Relax."

He does see me. He cares for what I am feeling. I must relax, relax and bre ...

RIP!! Off came the wax ...

VENUS!

... Julia's eyes popped open, up came her crotch, and down went Nate's mouth to bestow divine relief on his goddess. Pulling free of her ribbons, abandoning her Vestal constraints, Julia grabbed the back of his head and by his hair pulled his lips hard against her crotch.

"I want you in inside me. PUSH YOUR TONGUE INTO ME," Julia screamed, close to tearing hair from his head. This is wondrous. Have I reached orgasm?

Wow. Julia's a woman who gets what she wants. With her arse off the seat Nate spanked it then squeezed her cheeks hard.

This is so wicked. Spank me again. I deserve it, spank me, spank me, spank me.

There is no escaping her grip and she won't escape mine. He spanked her again ...

Yes.

... pushed his tongue in ...

Oh Venus.

...YUCK. No flavouring! I didn't think of that. Where in hell is Francesco when I need him? Keep going.

He delves deeper.

She spreads her legs wider.

Subordinate to the pleasure of his tongue, craving the dominance to control it, Julia released his hair to grip his ears to better position him. I feel guilty for receiving and guilty for not giving. Guilt is good. Guilt is ...

Nate wriggled his tongue.

Ooohhh. Julia reached her climax and orgasmed, and orgasmed, and orgasmed. It lasted longer than forever, a torrent that flowed over and through her and when it ended ... Venus, Jupiter and Mars ... I want more.

Well, apart from demanding I put my tongue in she came quietly, sort of. What a pleasant change from being with women who sound like a banshee or a coxswain. While satisfied with his performance, Nate was less than enthused by her taste. I need to research fanny flavours and add them to my product range. But what flavours are available in this time? I don't think they have vanilla, caramel, or chocolate. Fish pickle? No. No way. A fish-flavoured fanny wouldn't be appealing.

Keep going. Keep going. I ... somehow ... I do not feel ... completion? Make me shudder again.

OK, OK. I'm still licking. Stop pulling my ears.

XXX

Porcia and her half-sister did not share a physique, facial bone structure, an interest in each other's lives, social or financial standings. They did, however, share information to help each other with shared problems, and from that they had developed a need for Nate in their lives. Porcia had been sceptical when Pomponia first recommended his potion. Her scepticism ebbed after using it, able to return to regular relations with her clients. Better still, it allowed her to enjoy life again. The constant need to urinate had been uncomfortable, unpleasant, and fatiguing through an inability to sleep for more than a few hours at a time.

However, after the first free cup, all subsequent cups required payment, and the price had been rising rapidly. When Nate offered the potion in exchange for sexual favours to the philosopher, agreeing to the deal had been easy.

As for helping the slave to become a senator, I will have no part in that and will encourage the philosopher to do likewise. I need that slave where he is, to continue to do as he is. It is no different to the situation with Sarai. Sarai exists to satisfy the emperor. She will go nowhere and the slave must keep his mouth shut with Glade. And if he attempts to withdraw my potion, the good name of his mistress and his ambitions will cease.

After delivering the slave to the philosopher, screwing the philosopher and drinking his wine, Porcia departed for the palace with peace of mind that the sun would shine on her health for some time.

XXX

They barely spoke to each other as Porcia led Nate to Cicero's villa, along with Boobia, Jucia, and Hornia, the girls controlled by their vaginal leashes. It was a warm night for the last day of winter, and if not for the naked whores in high heels, the racially diverse group might have looked very PC.

I know advertising is good for business, but they would look more alluring if they were partly dressed to maintain a degree of feminine mystique. They need my lingerie, and I need to speak with Porcia—her dishonesty is troubling. If she isn't keeping her agreement with Glade, and is prepared to disgrace Aelia, will she keep her agreement with me? If I keep my mouth shut things should be OK. I won't risk Aelia's reputation. If Cicero isn't being serviced, I should hear of it. But why service him at all? She could demand the potion for free, and I would give it to her. But then she may need to explain to Cicero why she has withdrawn from the deal.

Today is no less complicated than last night, and those are big feet. As he walked, Nate looked down at the dimly lit ground to avoid irregularities in the pavement, and had noticed that Boobia's supersized breasts were matched by her supersized feet. With the floaties on her chest and flippers for feet she could make an Olympic swimming team.

"Big are they not," Hornia whispered in his ear.

Other than raising his eyebrows, Nate was sufficiently discrete to allow the question to hang in the air, and markedly impressed with Hornia's perception of his thoughts.

How do I get a conversation out of him? Hornia looked to the twinkling sky for inspiration. I love the night diamonds. If I could travel to the sky like the gods I would make a necklace from them.

Cicero. I need to turn my mind away from Boobia and Porcia to focus on my first meeting with the famous man. Should I ask questions or listen? Julia's cry of 'put your tongue in' was more than I expected. Nate rubbed a sore ear. If I ask him questions, what questions do I ask? There is no question Julia enjoyed herself, and I her, except for her taste, and I can fix that.

He should be interesting to listen to. I want, no I need, to exhaust his knowledge if I'm to become a man of note. I must impress him, participate in conversations for him to believe me more than an ignorant foreigner. Her thighs were so shapely and smooth. Respect. I want that from him first. Respect as a person, morally and intellectually.

I had better not even hint to my profession in Australia, and had better not tell him about my activities with Pomponia. And I had better not tell him what I did with a Vestal Virgin. Come to think of it, I'm probably better off keeping the conversation away from my past as best I can to focus on my senatorial future, the abolition of slavery, or perhaps what I should do in Judea. I'd love to know what the Leluuwahn elders are massaging me into. Then again, I could focus on my business achievements. I also need to demonstrate the best grammar that Philandros imparted on me.

He seems deep in thought. Perhaps he thinks on what to speak of with the philosopher. Perhaps he could discuss whether mortals like us will ever travel to the night diamonds? I think we will. I hope I do.

I wonder if I can do that with Julia a few more times before I travel to Judea with Spartacus. Spartacus! Who would have thought? Maybe use blueberry soap on her next time. Should I go to Judea? She might find someone else while I'm away.

Though I will need to meet a god for that.

Respect. I need to gain his respect. From respect could come friendship, and friendship in a world of political alliances will be valuable. Before he was ready, Nate was waiting in the garden courtyard of Cicero's villa while Porcia and Cicero noisily consummated their agreement in a nearby bedroom. Porcia had left Hornia, Boobia, and Jucia with Nate, handing their leashes to him and informing him that he was welcome to enjoy their pleasures on the condition he paid. Her girls were not part of the deal. Nate did not partake in their pleasures, though he was curious as to why they were here.

"We love walking naked through the city," Jucia said in reply to his question, and the other two confirmed with a "yes." Their attire reminded Nate of Bald Barbara, and he wondered what Jane was doing, whether it was Jane that Claudius was to meet, or the real Agrippina. She could be following my advice.

"Does that happen often?" Nate asked Jucia, seeing that her eggplant had fallen out, dangling from a chain that was attached to her waist. He hadn't noticed the chain around her waist before. The other girls did not have one.

"Yes. When I get excited it sometimes slips out." Jucia slipped it back in.

"You should do pelvic floor exercises. They'll tighten you up down there." He nodded towards her crotch.

"What are pelvic door exercises?" Boobia asked in a level tone. "They do not impede a man's entry, do they?"

Her speech reminds me of someone, but I can't think who. "No, but they keep a woman nice and tight down there." Nate's dick gave a reflexive twitch at fond memories of Alex. "What you do is, when you are going for a wee, urinating I mean, you try to stop your wee midstream. Exercising your muscles keeps your pussy tight. You can do it during intercourse as well, you know, tightening around a man."

"I haven't heard it called a pussy before, but would that help with leakage?" Hornia asked. "I hear some of the older girls at the palace speak of that, weeing as you say, just a little and unexpectedly. It can embarrass them. Would it help with that?"

"Yes, I think it does." Nate looked at Hornia at little closer. Intelligent, but her eyes aren't as bright as last night. Is she troubled, or bored? The girls discussed what Nate had told them, and then practiced tightening and relaxing around their eggplants.

Nate was pleased to have helped them and was also pleased to hear the noise Cicero was making with Porcia. Lucky I caught Amanda before she...oh shit. I didn't go back to release Philandros. I can't go now. Oh well, his first pupil tomorrow can untie him.

XXX

Who is my first pupil tomorrow? The Vestal I think. Yes ... Perhaps I can convince her to do more than release me.

XXX

"Nate, what do you plan to discuss with Cicero?" Hornia asked as she tightened and relaxed her pelvis.

"Philosophy and history perhaps. Ideas on life. Anything that can help me become a senator. Why?"

"Could I stay and listen? I enjoyed listening to the conversations last night. Hippocrates and Cicero were discussing your potion and property ownership. It was very interesting."

"Why were they discussing my potion?"

"Because Hippocrates wanted to take it from you for the good of Rome. Cicero disagreed. His argument had to do with property rights. I agreed with Cicero, not aloud of course." Hornia did not get her wish. Porcia insisted upon payment if she was to stay, and Cicero had received all the services he needed for the night.

Watching the women depart, Hornia last out the door and mouthing a googday, Nate winked in reply. I really do need to correct their English. Hornia's pretty face and her 'googday' returned his thoughts to Julia, her wriggling under his touch, how she squirmed when he...

"Nate. NATE!" Cicero called to gain the attention of his guest. He was not accustomed to people wandering off in mind or body while he spoke. After the promise from the Leluuwahn girl, I remember her tongue but what was her name? Cicero had decided he would engage the foreigner as a pupil. He tapped his foot. The young man can now wait to hear my decision.

"Yes?"

Cicero turned, expecting Nate to follow. "A happy life requires tranquillity of mind, young man. You seem distant. Are you troubled with something? May I help?" They entered a dining area where Cicero reclined on a lounge, gesturing for Nate to sit on a stool.

Cicero's question had brought Nate back to the moment, though he wasn't sure how to answer. The pause gave the verbose philosopher more air in which to speak.

"You are young. Is it a girl?"

How did he know that? "Yes."

"I can offer two pieces of advice on that subject. First, to keep your woman happy, pinch her bottom."

Or smack it. Nate remembered the taxi driver's and Scaevola's advice. That kid knows more than he should.

"Second, do not presume to know their thoughts. You do not. I would like to offer more, however no one can speak well unless he thoroughly understands his subject. I, and I dare say most men, do not understand women."

"I am not sure if I understand her yet or not."

"Why do you say that?"

"I have not spoken with her yet, not really, anyway. Only some greetings and...other things."

"Perhaps we should discuss subjects at least one of us understands. I like to know my pupils before I engage them. Tell me about yourself, young man."

No way. Nate wanted to turn the conversation away from himself, and paused to consider how.

He hesitates again. "You know not where to start?"

"I wish to become a senator, as you know. To do that I will need to continue with, and expand upon, aspects of my life that may work in my favour, such as success in business. However, I am unaware of the knowledge I need. That is why I sought to engage a wise mentor. So if you can tell me what you need to know of me, that which will help me become a senator, then I shall know where to start."

"As you are a slave, and slaves and freedmen cannot hold public office, you need know nothing."

"Then why ask a question for which you do not need the answer?" Now it was Cicero's turn to pause before speaking as he reassessed the slave. "You do not know why you need the answer?"

"You are clever with words, young man, managing to avoid speaking of yourself. It makes me wonder what you seek to hide. What do you wish to hide?"

"Anything that may work against me."

"Very frank. While it is wise to hide things that may work against you, I hope you are not a man who proffers falsehood. One falsehood leads easily to another."

"I do not."

"That is good to hear. A senator should be of the highest character and noblest genius and possess an insatiable desire for honour, command, power, and glory."

"Such as Licinius?"

"No system is perfect."

"Indeed, and some systems are less imperfect than others. When you speak of command, power, and glory, such concepts can lead men to believe they are more important than their abilities and position warrant. From where I hail there is a saying: 'Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.' How would you judge the use of the absolute power that your emperor possesses?" Nate mentally thanked Lord Acton for his quote.

"Our system relies on not only power and glory but also, as I said, honour. Rome relies on each citizen doing his duty for the greater good of Rome. It is honourable to perform one's duties, even when those duties are owed to those who have wronged us. It is unfortunate that our emperor seems to be falling slowly from honour. The evil some men have implanted in them by nature can spread so imperceptibly that when the habit of wrongdoing is unchecked, he himself can set no limit to his shamelessness, and so it is with Caligula. The balance to this was eloquently expressed by Euripides when he stated that the nobly born must nobly meet their fate. We shall see in the end what fate greets our emperor."

"You make no judgement as to his apparent moral corruption? Now it is you who avoids the question."

"You seek to judge and criticise our system. Why should I accept the criticism of a slave?"

"A man who does not value criticism is a man of no value, and the Cicero of renown is a man of great value." I believe I'm holding my own with him. "Criticism is not better or worse for the person who makes it; it is the validity of the criticism that should be accessed. As for my slavery, I arrived here a free citizen of my country, and my freedom was stolen by Rome."

"I see you are passionate on that subject. As a senator, you must strain every nerve to gain your point, and you must not use passion in the telling. He only employs his passion who can make no use of reason."

"Is it not good to be passionate about things you believe in?" At least he now speaks as though it's possible for me to achieve my aim.

"It can be good, but do not place passion before reason. The wise are instructed by reason; ordinary minds, by experience; the stupid, by necessity; and brutes, by instinct. Which are you?"

"When I arrived in Rome, by necessity I employed instinct to defeat a brute who sought to kill me. Since then my experiences in Rome have led me to see the need for a wise mind to guide me to my goal. I suspect that by necessity, by experience, and by reason, I am all of those things you describe. If you still feel the need to judge me, then perhaps you could judge me by the company I seek to keep."

"Clever again. Like readily consorts with like. You use my own philosophies to thwart my questions." Cicero paused with a finger against his temple, this time considering the plight of the young man before him.

"You say honour is important to Rome?" Nate posed.

"Yes."

"It has been said by a great Roman philosopher that freedom is a possession of inestimable value." Nate was repeating words he knew to be Cicero's. "I have done Rome no wrong, and yet Rome has stolen my freedom. Where is the honour in theft?"

"There is none, and as I said earlier, no system is perfect, not even in Rome. You will need to accept the loss of your freedom if you are to achieve contentment. I am flattered that a man from unknown lands knows of my philosophy. Tell me of your land, Nate, your system of government, and your way of life."

Nate went on to describe with fondness a population who lived on the green edges of an expansive, dry continent; a people with a love of sporting contests who valued a fair go for all; a system of government based on democracy; and an economy that did not rely upon slavery. Cicero was fascinated by the Ohstraylian version of democracy and how it could be achieved without slavery.

"I would like to travel to your home."

"As would I."

"You may not see it now, but should you recapture your freedom, it will be rendered more precious by the recollection of your servitude."

"I look forward to that day." Perhaps I should offer to change places so that you, too, may value your own freedom more preciously.

"You tell me little of yourself, but from your words and the description of your country, I feel I am beginning to understand you as you, being young, may begin to understand yourself. You must continue to talk of yourself and your thoughts. Everyone has the obligation to ponder his own specific traits of character. You must also regulate your traits adequately and not wonder whether someone else's traits might suit you better. The more definitely his own a man's character is, the better it fits him. Though I am your mentor, do not attempt to mimic me."

"Am I hearing that you have agreed to become my mentor?"

"You are."

"Excellent." Nate rose from his stool with a smile. "I shall be accompanying Spartacus to Judea, but on my return I look forward to speaking with you further. May I correspond with you while I am away?"

"Of course."

"I know a Leluuwahn, so our delivery times will be short." He would also call Scaevola, though he was not about to mention that.

"You know a Leluuwahn? Be careful to whom you impart that fact. The Leluuwahn are not well considered in Rome. Do you go to fight in the legions of Vespasian?"

"I go there without knowing what I shall do."

"Then why do you go?"

"I am not sure. I feel a need to go; it seems right, almost like a force is pulling me towards ..." greatness? "... towards a destiny. It pulled me from Australia to Rome, and it may be pulling me to Judea. It seems events are converging to send my life in directions I have not planned."

"In Judea, you could stretch out a helping hand to the fallen with your potion. You should go. We all should do the things that are important to us in life; the mundane can wait until the end. May I offer further advice?"

"Of course. I shall consider whatever advice a man such as you is willing to give. I am sure it will be useful."

"Thank you for your confidence, though I would caution you to reserve judgement on my words until an outcome is achieved. The quality of advice is judged by results, not intentions. My advice is that a good Roman can withstand foreign cultures and their women. Do not overindulge while abroad. With sex our lives begin, but we should not allow it to define us."

Interesting after our discussion on 'Ohstrayla' that he thinks of me as Roman.

"For your safety, remember that laws are silent in times of war. Do not rely on them to keep you safe. You may encounter many difficulties, and some may require you to act outside the law."

"Difficulties are things that show what men are made of."

"Your thoughts?"

"No, Epictetus."

"The name sounds Greek."

"We hear many things in Australia, Roman and Greek."

"Yes. I am sure you have. Be sure to transfer funds into the military bank before you depart. Military remuneration is meagre, if you receive it, and to have no coin upon you is unwise, especially in foreign lands."

I didn't know there was a military bank. I'll speak with Publius and Lucius.

Both made their goodbyes, and Nate departed feeling he had spoken well. From the firm Roman handshake he received, he also felt he had made progress in gaining Cicero's respect.

"Intriguing." From his front door, Cicero watched Nate until he could see him no more.

"Is the free sex worth it, Master? A slave cannot become a senator." Cassia, his house slave and concubine, had come to the doorway to slip her arm through his when he took longer to return than she expected.

"Do not fear the courtesan. We have been together for too many years for her to replace you." They had enjoyed each other's company through almost three decades of his marriage of convenience to Terentia, through the short marriage to his second wife, a young girl called Publilia, and through the heartache of the death of his daughter, Tullia. Placing an affectionate hand upon hers, Cicero pondered the wisdom of Rome's slavery laws.

"The young man has potential. It is impossible for him to achieve his goal, but if it were, I believe he has the potential to be wiser than many others who occupy the position. The first step towards wisdom is being wise enough to know the value of listening. The second step is to follow your own advice." He smiled and reached around to pinch Cassia's bottom.

I wonder what the Leluuwahn's bottom will feel like. That tongue of hers certainly felt good. "Come. While the early evening was unseasonably warm, I feel the cold night air is giving you goose bumps."

XXX

"Oh Claudius. Ohhhhh Claudius GIVE IT TO ME!" Jane cried as she played the part of a willing Agrippina. She had no need to stifle a howl. For God's sake, man, surely even your peculiar little penis can give me more than that.

For how long has she harboured this desire for me? If only I had known earlier. Claudius was not accustomed to hearing such displays of enthusiasm.

XXX

Above me again? What is my destiny?

Walking home under a clear, starlit sky, Nate saw the flames of street torchlights flickering on the undersides to two Crystal Shields. He did his best to ignore them as he made his way home.

XXX

"I see now the wisdom of the Lord's timing, yes. You were correct, Sos."

"His patience to allow the man to establish himself in his new land was wise. His mistress and the philosopher have social standing. The gladiator and Glade, should Glade follow him, will give him assistance in Judea. From the general and the general's son he gains military connections. Wisdom and patience are valuable companions."

"The woman he has seen, the priestess. Of what help might she be?"

"Of none for now, perhaps. But his first task will not be his last, no. It is but one step in a life that will fulfil our Lord's will. Of greater intrigue is his potential to be the one of our prophecy, yes."

##### And so ends Book I. I hope you enjoyed it.

##### Downloads are increasing, so please leave a review at your online retailer, or contact me directly at b.e.lore72@gmail.com

##### Please read on for an extract from the second instalment of the trilogy.

###### 1,000 YEARS IN 20

##### Nate joins Titus in the siege of Jerusalem,

##### Jane lays siege to Claudius, and

##### Amanda's confidence slowly grows wings.

# Extract from Chapter 1

# The Nemi Ship

##

It was in the cool of early evening when Spartacus and Nate descended from the Temple of Diana, an aging, melancholy, crescent shaped pantheon overlooking the circular, volcanic Lake Nemi, six leagues to the south east of Rome. The temple had been in use by three veiled and cloaked priests performing a ceremony on a bound and naked female.

"Why was she sacrificed?" For Nate, his hands clenched into fists, the sight of the young woman on an altar freshened memories of Marcellina's death.

"I do not know. As I told you, the wise do not disturb the rituals of priests." Spartacus was focused on the narrow, overgrown path that led to the lake's shore. "Their business is their own."

"Stuff their ceremonies. Unholy sectarian shitheads!" Nate's attempt to halt the ceremony had been thwarted by the strong arms of his companion.

I

Haifa enjoyed life on the emperor's new ship, her home on Lake Nemi. Another, smaller ship was also on the lake, but she had not been on it. Her ship had nice trees with fruit she could pick and eat, and lovely green grass she could lie upon to stare at the stars. Some stars looked like the stars in the night sky of her homeland, near the pyramids. They could not be the same stars. This lake was a long way from her pyramids.

Her new home was long, and Haifa often became lost when she first arrived. There was always someone to guide her back to her room though, or a man to take her to another. Spurius, the friendly man who had welcomed her to the ship on her first day had told her, "Say yes to everything, and you and I and our guests will be happy." Being a good girl, Haifa did as she was told. She said yes to the lovely clothes, she said yes to the lovely food, and she said yes to every request from every man. She was happy, and so were the men she said yes to.

Some of the other girls were silly and sometimes said no, and Haifa thought those girls were not as happy as she. Spurius helped them though. He was kind. He taught them how to say yes. Haifa already knew how to say yes, and the more she was asked to say yes by men, the more keenly she would reply...yes! The men liked that; men liked to know they excited her.

Sometimes men did things that hurt her, but only sometimes, not often. Today there were three men wanting to worship her, because they said she was beautiful. That was what they said. She had never thought of herself as beautiful, and still did not, despite them saying so. They said they would worship her on the shore, not on the ship, worship her as a goddess on a pedestal at a temple on the hill overlooking the round lake.

No one had worshiped her before, not really. Sometimes Spurius put her on a pedestal at night to dance in beautiful clothes or no clothes, and everyone said how beautiful she was, but that was not worshiping. These men said they would worship her. She said yes to that. Haifa would like to be a goddess.

I

A slim girl with flawless olive skin lay naked on her back on the altar of Diana. Her outstretched arms and legs were tied to torch-lit columns of the surrounding colonnade, her face and hair covered by a wolf's head mask. Goose pimples covered her as she trembled in the cold evening air while a heavyset priest kept a sluggish rhythm on a bass drum. A second priest, not as tall as the first, began oiling the girl to then strigil her body clean. The third priest held tight to control lines that ran through timber pulleys attached to the cornices of the temple columns to position a life-sized statue of Priapus with his larger than life erection over the girl. The statues hollow bronze body was ablaze with small fires, its phallus filled and dribbling with oil. A marble statue of Caligula sat on a throne to one side, its sunken, glowering eyes observing all.

Priapus was lowered until his fires warmed the girl's naked body, the tip of his manhood coming to rest against the lips of her hairless crotch. The girl twitched at the unexpected contact, unable to see what was happening from within her mask. Once accustomed to the warm, oily metal between her legs, she raised and lowered her hips until its slippery rigour began to stretch her.

"Do you want more?" the third priest asked as he inched Priapus backwards and forwards to the rhythm of the drum.

"Yes." The girl squirmed under the second priest's hands; finished with the strigil, he had commenced massaging her. I must show them I enjoy this.

"Do you want more?" The eager voice was louder to overcome the increasing volume of the drum.

"Yes. I want to be worshipped."

The drummer increased the weight and tempo of his rhythm in preparation for the question to be asked one final time. The girl responded with gyrations, pushing herself onto the thick metal as it poured warm oil deep inside her. The massaging priest sucked on petite, brown nipples, and the question was asked for the last time.

"Yes," came her final reply.

The priests showed no mercy as they bit off her nipples and rammed Priapus in up to his balls.

I

Eighteen-year-old Marcus was on his way to join the army of Vespasian, taking a planned detour to make use of the limited funds his father had provided him. If death came to him in battle, he did not want to die a virgin. As he paced the dock waiting for a launch to shuttle him to one of the two ships that lay at anchor on the lake, his untested manhood grew with expectation. There were bare-breasted women patrolling the fire-lit deck of the nearest ship, and he hoped he would not embarrass himself when those women greeted him.

"Hail, Marcus. Are you well?" Nate asked his tutor's son.

"I am that." Marcus answered with a lopsided smile. "And you?"

"Well indeed, and much better than some." With the aid of Philandros, Nate was becoming more Roman by the day. He was glad to find Marcus. It moved his mind from the girl on the altar and transferred it to Cicero and his teachings. "Do you know my friend Spartacus?"

"By reputation only," Marcus replied, exchanging Roman handshakes with both men. "I have, however, witnessed many of your impressive victories, Spartacus."

"Thank you. Your father is a wise man."

Wise man? You called him worn-out not so long ago.

"You have met him?" Marcus knew his father was not one to admire the gladiators.

"Only once. It was a memorable night and I hope my time here will be equally so." The square stern of a small launch bumped into the dock. The boat was ten metres in length, and six men, backslapping each other as they engaged in raucous laughter, alighted.

"I think we may have overdone it buying a three-day pass, Festus," the last one off remarked, walking with his legs apart and holding his back.

"Too much is never enough," Festus joked as he too held his back and was showered by the laughter of his friends.

"It was the equivalent of a three-day festival under the arches of the Circus," another said as the six departed the dock to tread a worn path to a nearby town.

"My aim is to leave here as happy as those men." Spartacus jangled coins in his pocket.

Nate had not known why Spartacus had wanted to visit this lake. His friend had only said it would be worthwhile to pay the ship a visit. Taking a fresh look at his surroundings and the two massive ships that lay at the northern and southern ends of the moonlit lake, he asked, "This is Lake Nemi?"

"You have heard of it, then?"

"Only from you, Sparta." Nate had stayed true to his decision not to surf the net for information, not wanting to spoil his surprise. He now wished he had as he, like Marcus before him, noticed dozens of bare-breasted women and a few young men roaming the deck of the nearest ship. My vow of chastity is about to be tested. He let out a sigh for not asking his friend more questions, and repeated his vow in his head.

Chained to their seats, black, white, and olive-skinned oarsmen, all muscular and lean, made light work of rowing into a strong southerly breeze. They passed the first ship to continue towards what Nate could now see was a larger vessel, its towering, jewel-encrusted stern rising almost vertically from the water. He hadn't appreciated its enormity from the shore.

"Hades. How big is this thing?" Marcus looked past the pointed bow of the launch. By comparison to the ship ahead, the launch seemed like driftwood upon an ocean.

"It is not as big as my penis feels." Spartacus waved to the bare-breasted women who were leaning over the gunwales to wave at him.

I feel like a statue of Priapus. Marcus' eyes were wide. He was having difficulty sitting still.

As his boating companions raced up the stairs to seek out the waiting arms of their lovers-to-be, Nate trudged towards the deck like a man going to the gallows. Think of Julia. Think of Julia. It was not a good idea; his mind wandered to her blueberry-covered body, making his aimed for celibacy more difficult to achieve.

"A two-day pass, please." Marcus handed his coin to the attendant at the top of the steps.

"That covers you for tonight and tomorrow night. Checkout is midday the day after. Would you like late checkout? You could leave early evening for a small fee."

"No, thank you." Though eager to get acquainted with what he hoped would be a lifetime vice, Marcus was on a budget.

"Two two-day passes please, and no late checkout. It was my idea, Nate, and so I shall pay. We will meet back here at midday the day after tomorrow. Enjoy." Spartacus grinned and was gone.

Nate watched with surprise as Marcus chose a voluptuous woman, probably in her mid-thirties. "You choose a woman of experience, Marcus?"

"Father says it is a great thing to learn how best to perform your vices."

That isn't quite my memory of your father's philosophy. Nate was further surprised to watch Spartacus walk off with a woman that was portly, or perhaps comfortable, plump? Or ... no ... she's just plain fat. Bum wobble is good but not that much! Each to their own, I guess.

"Want a girl, Honey?"

"Or two?"

"I like to dominate."

"I like to be dominated."

"Black is best."

Nate moved away from their soft hands and pressing bodies, holding tight to his vow of chastity, and searched for a woman less to his liking, one he could converse with without thoughts of sex. Find one with few curves, straight legs, and a bony bum. Scanning the ship, a thin woman with minimal curves caught his eye. She was standing alone, facing away from him on the far side of the ship wearing a pink translucent gown, cuddling herself beside a glowing brazier.

"Good evening." She's wise to stand near that fire.

The woman straightened her back, adjusted her scant clothing, and turned to face him. Both their eyes went wide.
