Skaia (60 page)

“
That may be, but he was still a fool for leaving the Senate. So, what did you do here?”

“
Mostly, I dug holes and planted things, sir.”

“
Just a laborer, then,” Scipio commented derisively. He looked around for a few more moments before gripping Skaia’s arm. “Is there somewhere private we can go?”

Skaia felt his panic return. “This is private, sir.”

“
Your master didn’t set up rooms?” Scipio asked in disbelief.

Hesitating, Skaia answered, “He did not tell me, sir.”

“
I suppose he’s been out of circulation for too long. He’s from an old and wealthy family. He should have never abandoned his position.” Scipio suddenly seemed to realize he was talking to a slave. A very lovely one, to be sure, but the boy had no importance. “You should not be wearing a breechcloth. Remove it now, and lean against the wall.”

Skaia’s heart was pounding. He had thought he was ready for this. He was wrong. “But, sir… someone might come.”

“
I doubt your master is so stupid that he would let that happen.”

“
My Master is
not
stupid,” Skaia protested immediately.

“
That’s what I just said,” Scipio laughed, as his hands began to push Skaia’s tunic up. “Is it true that only your masters have used you?”

What?
“Yes, sir.”

“
Excellent. That other boy—the dancer—has no doubt spread his legs hundreds of times for anyone and everyone. You’re prepared, aren’t you?”

“
Yes, Master,” Skaia answered, dropping his breechcloth and bracing himself against the wall. As if for a whipping.

Scipio’s hands were gentle as they kneaded Skaia’s trembling buttocks. His voice softened too, as he leaned in close. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. As long as you’ve been prepared, you shouldn’t be hurt.” His hands remained gentle as they wandered up Skaia’s sides and found his nipples.

Despite his efforts not to react, Skaia grunted as the man’s fingers pinched at his chest harshly, sending jolts of pleasure down through his body. He felt his cock grow and throb.

But Scipio had no intention of pleasuring the slave, only taking his own. His hands slipped once more to Skaia’s buttocks, this time searching for the boy’s opening. And once he found it, he replaced his fingers quickly with his cock, and pushed in roughly. Skaia gasped again, this time in pain.
I didn’t relax,
he chided himself. But Scipio didn’t care. He pumped forcefully, holding tightly to Skaia’s hips. He didn’t take long. Skaia could feel him climax, could feel the warmth fill his bowels. Then the Senator withdrew quickly and Skaia, still braced and facing the wall, could hear him rearrange his clothing. His own tunic fell back into place, covering his abused bottom.

“
Get dressed. Wait a while,” Scipio instructed, “and then come back to the atrium.” He fumbled with the purse at his waist, drawing out a small bag. Smiling, he added two additional coins, and then pressed the bag into Skaia’s palm. “You were tighter than I expected,” he said in praise. Then he was gone before Skaia could turn around and thank him.

Standing quietly, his head bowed against the wall in shame, Skaia could feel the man’s seed drip down his legs.
Blood, too,
he thought, considering the lingering pain. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his breechcloth and wiped himself, before putting it back on. He waited long moments, before he could finally summon up his courage to follow Scipio.

Kneeling in his corner, fingering the small purse that the Senator had slipped him before he left the gardens, Skaia opened it. But having no idea of the value of the coins inside, he shut it again and set it aside. Now he felt at the collar around his neck, and the shame of the night’s proceedings washed over him again.
A whore. A whore in a silver collar.
Thaddeus had finally done it. Had truly made him a whore. For Glaucus’ sake, he would say.

Skaia hoped it was so. That somehow, Glaucus would understand what he had done, and would forgive him for it. But how could he? Skaia felt a coldness wash over him. A hardness… And he welcomed it, clung to it.

When Thaddeus came in, Skaia lifted his head and met his eyes.

“
Are you alright?” Thaddeus asked softly. “Did the Senator hurt you?”

“
No, Master. I am fine.” Skaia’s voice was calm, expressing no emotion.

Thaddeus held out his hands, and raised Skaia to his feet. “Are you sure? Do you want anything?”

Only to forget…
“I would like to wash, sir. May I go to the kitchen?”

“
Of course. Whatever you want.” But when Thaddeus tried to kiss the boy’s forehead, Skaia turned away quickly.

“
Thank you, Master.”

Thaddeus watched him go before he noticed the small purse on the floor. He picked it up, counted the coins, and turned again to look toward the door. He thought Scipio must have been extremely pleased with Skaia’s performance.

Which perhaps explained why the evening had been so successful, in attaining his goals. Flavius and Antius were also overjoyed. Both senators had promised to support their sons.

Skaia is only a slave,
Thaddeus told himself again.
Glaucus is my son!

He looked back down at the small purse in his hand—wondering why he felt that something was so terribly, horribly wrong…

XVIII

Skaia walked to the kitchen slowly, attempting to avoid everyone else. As he might have expected, the kitchen was full. Slaves still trickled in, bringing whatever remained of the nights’ feast. He hoped no one noticed as he slipped into the wash room.

Wetting a cloth, he found the water was barely warm. It would not do—not tonight; he felt as if he needed hot water to wash away the filth on his body and, hopefully, his memories of how it got there.

Very reluctantly, Skaia returned to the kitchen to ask for help. But all the people there were in small groups now, laughing and talking of the evening.
Dax.
They were speaking mostly of Dax. Hesitating to interrupt, most definitely not wanting the conversation to turn to him, he started to leave again.

And saw the unattended array of knives left out on the counter.

Staring at the blades for only a moment, then looking about quickly to be sure no one observed what he was doing, Skaia snatched up one of the smaller ones and hurried with it back to the wash room.

When he was certain that he had not been followed, he looked at the knife more closely, and felt at its sharp edge.
I gave this up,
he thought.
This seeking of death…
But now the idea had regained its appeal. Thaddeus would use him as best suited his needs. And Glaucus would despise him for what he’d done.

Holding the knife to his wrist he made a small cut, but could not summon the determination to push it in deeper. Sighing, he sank to the floor and stared at the knife again.
My neck,
he thought,
like Castor showed me so long ago.
Lifting his head, he felt for the pulse in his throat, and held the knife there when he found it.

But still he hesitated.

Long enough that Castor saw him. He had only come in to see why there was a lamp lit in the wash room. He watched Skaia silently; afraid that if he made a sound the boy would panic, and cut himself. Backing away quietly, he pulled Phaelas aside.

“
Go to Thaddeus, now. Hurry, Phaelas. Skaia has a knife at his throat.”

For a moment, Phaelas only looked at him blankly. “Thaddeus will care,” Castor hissed. “Hurry to get him.”

At this point, Phaelas ran. He burst into Thaddeus’ chamber without knocking or awaiting permission of any kind. “Master Thaddeus, you must come quickly. Castor fears for Skaia. He insisted.”

“
What?” Thaddeus demanded, alarmed. But when Phaelas ignored him and ran out from the room Thaddeus dropped the small purse he still held, and ran to follow.

When he got to the wash room, he saw Skaia sitting on the floor, holding the knife loosely in his lap. But as soon as the slave saw him, he lifted it again to his neck—and Thaddeus bellowed, “Skaia. Stop it! Put the knife down and come to me. Now!”

Skaia looked at him. And pushed the knife closer against his skin. But he automatically jerked it back when he felt the first pain. Thaddeus rushed forward in that instant, slapping Skaia’s hand and knocking the knife away. Then he roughly jerked Skaia to his feet.

“
What in the name of all the gods do you think you’re doing? Have you completely lost your mind?” he shouted. Skaia only trembled under his hands, lowered his gaze to the floor, and made no attempt to answer.

Thaddeus released his arm. “Strip,” he ordered, his tone controlled. He looked back at Phaelas. “Get out. Let no one else in here.” When he looked back to Skaia, the boy had pulled off his tunic, and removed his breechcloth. He still refused to look up.

Thaddeus walked to him, and felt at the fluids seeping down Skaia’s legs. “You’re bleeding?” Concern touched his voice.

“
Yes, sir.”

“
Wash yourself.” Thaddeus forced himself to speak calmly. “And then we’ll let Castor examine you.”

Skaia took a deep breath and walked across to the bowl of water. He was no longer thinking about the temperature. No longer thinking at all. Only obeying…

Carefully, he washed both his thighs, and then between his buttocks, scrubbing hard at his skin. He seemed to go on forever, and finally Thaddeus tried to stop him. “That’s enough, Skaia. You’re clean enough. Let’s go.”

Ignoring him, Skaia continued his harsh scrubbing. Until Thaddeus approached him and removed the bloody cloth from his grasp. “I said, that’s enough.”

“
Yes, Master.”

Helping him back into his tunic, Thaddeus led Skaia away by his hand. The boy did not resist, but Thaddeus would not release him, afraid he would do something else to hurt himself. He stopped briefly to speak with Castor. “Skaia is bleeding from his ass. Gather whatever you need, and come to my chamber.”

Skaia obeyed Thaddeus’ pull on his arm without question when he walked on. Refusing to think. Following the man to their rooms.

Thaddeus removed the silver collar Skaia wore as soon as they entered, and threw it on a couch. Skaia didn’t even look—just walked to his corner and knelt. Thaddeus watched him, and pulled his chair to face him, observing the small streams of blood on the boy’s neck and wrist. “What happened to push you to this?” he asked softly.