Zelamir

Helot

The Adventures of Ayas the Slave-boy

Chapters 37-42

Chapter 37

The same though had clearly occurred to Philotas.

"The terms are strictly cash," he announced.

The man did not reply but pushed his way to the front of the crowd and pulling a purse from the recesses of his tunic began to count out the money on the stage floor. Ayas saw that the last couple of drachma were made up of single obols and that there seemed to be very little left in the man's purse when he had finished.

"Any other bids?" Philotas asked, "going for eight drachma a quality slave boy for the first time… for the second time… gone."

He was not above bouncing a few fake bids off the city wall if he thought he could get away with it but he like Ayas had noticed the paucity of the man's purse and he feared if he tried it he would be left with an unsold lot.

"Pay the money to my man," he said gesturing at Nearchus, "and he'll give you the boy."

He pushed Ayas towards where the Negro stood at the top of the ladder leading up to the stage and turned to grab the next child to be auctioned, as it happened a twelve year old girl.

Having paid Nearchus the man was waiting at the bottom of the ladder. Ayas hesitated at the top. He could hardly bare to rest his wounded foot on the ground let alone to put his weight on it. He dared not jump but climbing down the ladder seemed hardly better. He had no choice though. His new owner was waiting for him and it would be very bad to start off by keeping him waiting. Gritting his teeth he turned and gingerly reached out for the top rung of the ladder.

Suddenly he found himself caught under the arms and lifted gently to the ground. The man, holding him by the arm, pushed him through the crowd towards the street to where a donkey stood utterly unmoving in the midst of the bustle and noise of the market. It was a particularly fat donkey and remarkably placid. It had been left to stand there without any attempt to tether it, the owner appearing to be confident that it had too much good sense and gravitas to wander off.

Ayas saw the donkey and his heart sank. It's presence indicated to him that his new master's home was probably some considerable way off and he faced a long and painful journey limping along behind it while his master rode on its back.

The next moment he was lifted onto the donkey's back.

"There's no need to be frightened," the man said kindly, "Penelope is very quite, just take a good grip of her mane and I'll lead her with the reigns."

For some reason he could not understand Ayas's eyes began to smart. He bit his lip trying to control himself. It was only after he had got this first and wholly illogical reaction to the man's kindness under control, that he realised that he, who had ridden Vulcan the strongest and fastest horse in the Peloponese, probably indeed in the whole of Greece, to victory so many times, was being told how to ride a very fat and very quiet donkey.

He began to shake with hardly suppressed laughter. The man misunderstanding the cause of his trembling reached up and placed a hand reassuringly on his bare thigh.

"It's all right," he said reassuringly, "I'll catch you if you fall."

Ayas had to bite his lip again.

Perched on the top of the donkey Ayas looked about himself curiously. He was confused by the bustle and the noise. He had never seen so many people crushed together in so small a space, all hurrying about in different directions. There were big crowds at the races but they were there for one purpose and there was a certain focus and discipline about them but here all seemed to be chaos. Everybody seemed to be intent on their own business jostling and pushing each other without regard to anyone else. And the noise was different to the roar of the crowd. as they cheered the horses towards the finishing line. Here there was an absolute cacophony of noise that assaulted your ears on every side, shop keepers crying their wares, metal workers hammering at their forges, were echoed back from the tall buildings that hedged the narrow streets and mingled with the shouts and curses of the people.

Yet despite his confusion he tried his best to keep some track of where he was being taken. He had by his calculations just two days, that day and the next, in which to warn the Thebans of the Spartan plan. Despite being bought by a man who promised to be the sort of owner, kind and gentle, that all slave boys dreamt of but few rarely came across he knew he would have to runaway as soon as he possibly could.

He felt very guilty about this. None of the things he had done or been involved in up to that moment had bothered him. Biting Ocytus balls off, firing Xionedes's villa and stables, stealing Vulcan, all of these seemed to him to be perfectly reasonable things to have done. Indeed he was mildly proud of the first. If ever anybody deserved to have his balls bitten off he told himself it was Ocytus. But he felt bad about running away from the man who was now walking quietly beside him a hand resting reassuringly on his bare thigh. He had paid all of eight drachma for him, a big sum for boy, almost enough to buy a decent horse. Running off would be tantamount to stealing that sum and very poor recompense for the kindness the man had shown him.

Still he was going to make a run for it and the sooner the better. So he tried to keep track of where they were going. However if it had not been to the mountains looming away to the North he would have quickly lost his bearings in the warren of narrow streets they entered once they turned of the main thoroughfare.

Beyond those mountains, he thought, lies Thebes and it is a help to know that. Although he had to admit to himself they did seem rather a long way off.

It seemed to Ayas that the further they went the slower the man walked. They were now passing along a narrow street with low blank walls on either side broken only by the occasional archway blocked in every instance by a pair of heavy wooden doors. The man who had already slowed to a snail's pace now stopped completely.

"Now boy," he said squeezing Ayas bare thigh, "you're not to be upset…"

Here it comes Ayas thought to himself. He's going to fuck me. He had been expecting this eventually. Why else had the man bought him? The only thing that surprised him was that it was here in the street. He had expected that he would wait until they had got back to his house. The alleyway though was deserted and he supposed the man could not wait any longer.

He prepared to get down off the donkey. It did not occur to him to resist. The man had paid good money for him and it was his right. Anyway he had been kind to him and he would do his very best to please him.

"She doesn't mean it," the man continued after a short pause totally overturning Ayas's presupposition and leaving him wondering what he was talking about. "Whatever she says she doesn't mean it. She's very kind hearted really. She's just got a hot temper and she cares so much. I want you to know you're very welcome at my house and she'll welcome you too… in the end."

Having said this the man turned away and knocked on a double door set in the wall near where they were standing. It seemed to Ayas that his knock somehow lacked authority. It was hesitant almost apologetic.

The doors were opened by an elderly white haired man whose face lit up with a smile when he saw who was there.

"Master," he said "you are back. I hope you had a good and profitable trip."

Then he stepped forward to take the donkey's reigns and saw Ayas sitting on her back. The smile vanished from his face.

"Master what have you there?" he asked his alarm apparent in his voice.

"That Theocrates?… Oh that yes… it's… it's a boy I bought… He was being mistreated in the slave market so I bought him…"

The man's attempt to sound casual and off hand didn't carry any conviction.

"Master you know what she's like," Theocrates sounded thoroughly frightened, "She's in the kitchen and she'll be sure to be out here in a moment and then there will be trouble."

Ayas hearing all this was completely puzzled. He could only suppose that the 'she' referred to with such trepidation was the mans wife and objected to the presence of pretty young slave boys in her household. He had heard stories about such women in the past although it seemed to him strange to make a fuss about such a minor and common place matter, almost as strange as a free man being bothered at all about what a woman thought.

At this moment a large red faced woman appeared from behind Theocrates. She didn't look like a freeman's wife. Her hands were white with flour, the sleeves of her rather dowdy dress rolled up to her elbows.

"You're back Master," she exclaimed putting to rest any doubts as to her status.

And then her eyes fell on Ayas.

"What's this," she demanded her voice rising.

"Ah Alcestis… I… I… er was just explaining to Theocrates here. A boy I bought… He was being mistreated in the slave market so I… I er in short I bought him."

"Of course Master nothing more reasonable I am sure Master… If you buy every boy that is mistreated in the slave market we'll have the house full in no time… And what's he's going to live on Master? He'll need feeding… boys do you know Master… Our business has suddenly looked up has it Master? That we can afford to feed another mouth or perhaps you're planning to sell Theocrates or me… or both of us so you can fill the house up with boys that have been given a hard time in the slave market."

"Now Alcestis you know I'll never sell either of you," the man protested. "You were my father's slaves before being mine and I promised him that if ever I got enough money together to set you up in a little business or other I'd give you your freedom. Have I ever done anything bad to you? I'll never sell either of you and you know that very well."

"You're a good master Attis," the woman admitted, "only too soft. I bet you've frittered the whole profits of this trip away on buying this boy. How much did you pay for him?… You needn't say Master… I can see it in your face… too much… I know it."

"I… er… only six drachma," the man replied.

Ayas noticed he had understated the amount by two drachma but the lie did him no good.

"Six drachma for that." Alcetis stormed, "you could buy three of him for that. You could buy a horse for you to ride on."

"I don't want a horse," Attis said mildly, "I prefer Penelope to any horse."

"And anyway," the woman demanded, "what's the brat doing up on the donkey while you're walking. It's a strange world where the master walks and the slave boy rides but maybe it suits your tastes Master."

"He's hurt his foot so I thought he'd better ride."

"Hurt his foot!!! You pay six drachma for a boy with a bad foot!!!…"

Alcestis raised both hands in the air and paused silent obviously inviting the world to witness the ingrained idiocy of her Master.

"So," she continued after a short interval, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "the poor delicate little child has hurt his foot and can't walk because it hurts the poor little fellow… Let me have a look at nasty foot you poor dear little boy."

Stepping up to the donkey she took hold of Ayas's ankle and lifted his foot so she could examine its soul.

"Very well," she said after a further pause, "since he's here I suppose we have to do something about that…"

"Don't try to walk on it boy. Theocrates will carry you into the kitchen. Master you go to your study. You'll only get upset and be no use at all."

Ayas found himself lifted bodily from the donkey and carried into the house.

"Sit him down on the table" Alcestis ordered as she busied herself at the kitchen hearth bringing a small cauldron of water to the boil.

"What's your name boy?" she asked .

"Ayas," he replied and then after a moments hesitation added, "Mistress."

He knew that she was a slave like himself but the way she ordered Theocrates about and the scant respect with which she treated the master of the house seemed to demand some deference.

"I'm no 'mistress'," the woman said tartly but a certain note in her voice made Ayas suspect that she was not displeased to be so addressed.

"Well Ayas," she continued, "I can't tell you you're welcome here, because you're not but here you are and we'll just have to make the best of it and the first thing to do is to get that foot of yours sorted out. You're no good to man or beast hobbling about on one foot like you are now."

"Rags for bandages and where is that…" she said looking about. "Ah here it is," and she picked up a small but very sharp looking knife.

"Now Ayas," Alcestis's voice had lost its usual acerbic tones and was almost gentle, "you're a tough looking little tyke. This is your chance to show Theocrates and me and the Master too because it's small house and he'll hear if you make a fuss, how brave you are."

She nodded at Theocrates who seized Ayas by his shoulders and forced his back down onto the table while Alcestis caught hold of his right ankle in a vice like grip.

"Pin him down with one hand on his chest and try to grab the other foot," she ordered. "I don't want him kicking me with it while I work."

The pain was sudden and extreme. Ayas screamed and roared as the knife cut away the rotten flesh. He tried to be brave but how could you be brave with pain like that. The sweat ran down Theocrates face as he fought to keep the frantically struggling boy pinned to the table. Alcestis had had to cut deeper than she had expected but she said nothing just getting on quietly with her work. At last she was satisfied that the last of the infection had been removed. She put down the knife and Ayas's screams fell away to a low sobbing.

Alcestis dipped the tips of her fingers into a jar of strongly smelling unguent.

"Watch out," she warned Theocrates, "he'll start again when I put this on his wound."

Shortly afterwards Ayas was sitting up on the table Alcestis suporting him with one arm round his shoulders while wiping his face clean with a warm damp cloth.

"It's done now," she said reassuringly, "it'll heal up nice and cleanly I'm sure. We just need to keep the bandages on it for a few days."

Ayas looked down at his right foot swathed in bandages.

"Do you think the Master heard me?" he asked anxiously. Somehow Attis's opinion mattered a lot to him.

"I'm sure he didn't," Alcestis said ruffling his hair.

Ayas could not understand why Alcestis and Theocrates were both smiling.

"Well," Theocrates said, "there doesn't seem anything more for me to do here. I'll go and look after Penelope."

"I'll help," Ayas said eagerly and before anyone could stop him swung his legs over the side of the table.

He slid to the floor and immediately the rom began to go round in circles.

Theocrates caught him before he fell and seated him on a stool by the hearth.

"You'd better just stay there for a bit," the man said gently, "you need a rest to get your strength back."

"I'm all right. Really I am," Ayas protested, "and I know about donkeys or well I know about horses and I suppose donkeys are the same as horses but smaller."

He genuinely wished to make himself useful and to gain the good opinion of these people and above all of Damos who had been so kind to him and had saved him from the slave market.

At the same time, although he felt very guilty about it, he was quite determined not to abandon his attempt to warn the Thebans of the coming Spartan attack. The Spartans had enslaved his people, killed his father, and destroyed his family. He was not going to stop now even though continuing meant behaving badly to a man who had been kind to him.

He now had only one and a bit days to get to Thebes. With his foot in its present condition if he was to go anywhere it would have to be on the back of something. He certainly could not walk. The only thing available to ride was Penelope so he needed to know where she was stabled so he could, and here he felt a redoubled twinge of guilt as he formulated the thought, steal her. He would have preferred something faster and bigger and more on the lines of Vulcan but in the absence of that a donkey would have to do.

As he hobbled after Theocrates he thought about Vulcan. He hoped he was all right. He wondered if the horse was missing him as much as he was missing it and if he had a new boy jockey and if so how they were getting on together.

Chapter 38

The double gates to the yard stood open and Penelope was nowhere to be seen. Watched by Ayas, Theocrates, apparently unconcerned by the disappearance of the donkey, swung the gates closed and secured them. A wooden catch and a couple of bolts were their only fastenings.

The man whistling quietly to himself walked across the yard to an open door way. Ayas limped after him surprised at how calmly he was taking the absence of Penelope. It seemed to him that with the gates open she could have gone anywhere.

"Don't come in the stable with those bandages on your foot. You stay here and stuff the net with hay for her while I get the bridle off her," Theocrates ordered.

Ayas could see that Penelope very sensibly had not wandered off but had simply walked across the yard and into the stable and was waiting there, patient as ever, to be fed and watered.

"I thought she might have strayed," Ayas said as he filled the net with sweet smelling hay.

"Strayed," Theocrates said fondly patting the donkey on the rump, "Penelope won't ever stray. She's too sensible an animal to do that. Aren't you girl? She knows when she's well off. She's couldn't have a kinder softer master and neither could we either."

"He's been very kind to me already," Ayas said.

"Here's the hay net. I've filled it," he continued, adding as he handed it to Theocrates, "what does the Master do?"

"You've filled this well. You've done the job before have you Ayas?" Theocrates remarked as he hung the net from a hook over Penelope's head..

"Yes I have. I said I'm used to working with horses."

"Well then you can come in here now the floors pretty clean and you can help me groom her."

"I don't think many donkeys get treated like this," Ayas said squatting beside her and vigorously brushing her hind leg.

"Penelope is not an ordinary donkey," Theocrates replied attacking her neck.

"As for the Master. He's what they call a merchant. We deal mainly in spices and sometimes jewellery small high priced items and travel all over Greece doing it. He was returning from a trip to Patras when he bought you.

"Has he ever been to Sparta?" Ayas asked with apparent innocence.

"Yes indeed. They're good customers of ours both for jewellery and spices despite claiming to live on bean stew and wearing only woollen cloaks. Why do you ask?"

"Oh my last Master was a Spartan and my biggest friend lives there. I wonder what Damon is doing now?" Ayas asked and sighed theatrically.

"Probably found another boy friend already," Theocrates replied robustly. "There's no point in hankering after old friends boy. You're a slave and you please your master not yourself. You'll forget about your old friend if you're wise."

"I suppose so," Ayas replied sniffing loudly and wiping a non-existent tear from his eye with the back of his hand.

He did miss Damos a bit but not enough to cry for him. He was with a cunning, that did not do him credit, deliberately trying to plant in Theocrates mind the impression that he was hankering for Sparta so when he ran it would be assumed he was running towards Sparta and not away from it. For he now had a plan of a sort at least.

He had noticed the that the gates were secured only by bolts and a latch. Quite sufficient to keep intruders out, utterly useless for keeping slave boys in. The stable containing the admirably quiet and docile Penelope with whom he had already established an easy rapport was conveniently situated immediately opposite the double gates. It would be easy early next morning to extract Penelope from the stables, shoot back the bolts and then ride off for Thebes on the donkey's back. With a bit of luck it might be a couple of hours before their absence was noted and then it would be very helpful if they thought he was heading for Sparta.

He could see nothing that could go wrong with the plan. It was not after all the sort of household where they were liable to even think of fettering a boy overnight to stop him running away.

Ayas would very much like to have asked some questions about the mountain road to Thebes but he could not see how he could do so without risking Theocrates remembering in the morning when they found he was gone and suspecting he was heading towards Thebes rather than to Sparta.

Though he had a plan he still felt bad about running away. He had thought about this quite a lot and decided that he would at least do something to repay his new master for his kindness before he left him. The conversation furthermore had rather conveniently come round to the point where he could reasonably raise the subject.

"Does the Master like boys then?" he asked.

"Attis like boys?" Theocrates said apparently startled. "Why do you ask?"

"Well you said I should please the Master not myself."

"Oh I see… well now… It's a funny thing with the Master and you couldn't get a better one but he's not too keen on that sort of thing. Often when I've been travelling with him we've stopped at an inn and he's been offered a boy or a girl for the night and he's refused. I asked him once why and he said sex was for animals, humans should strive for the things of the mind and the higher pleasures."

"But it's fun," Ayas protested who didn't know anything about the higher pleasures but knew what he liked.

"Well I can't say I disagree," Theocrates replied. "Attis used to spend a lot of time hanging around on the agora as a young man listening to the sophists and I think he picked up some silly ideas there. I think he likes boys well enough. You can tell by the way he looks at them and he bought you too. He just thinks that love should be a spiritual union of two souls – that's what he says – I don't know what it means and I don't think he knows either."

Ayas didn't say 'silly ass', first because it would have been disrespectful and second because Greek boys of the fourth century before Christ did not express themselves in that way, but that was what he thought. He didn't have many pleasures in his life but sex was one of them. It provided the only escape, brief though it was from the harsh realities and squalor of his life. What if dogs and cats and horses and donkeys and everything else that moved and breathed did it? Good luck to them – it was no reason why he shouldn't as well.

And Attis was missing out a lot believing such nonsense. Ayas shook his head in bewilderment at the stupid things Masters could make themselves believe. He decided the least he could do before he ran away to repay the man for his kindness was to show him what he was missing by believing such nonsense.

After Penelope had been fed, watered and generally pampered they returned to the kitchen.

Theocrates walked straight in and seated himself on a bench at the big kitchen table. Alcestis filled a bowl from a cauldron of bean stew and carried it over to him.

"I suppose," Alcestis said returning to the stove, "you're hungry too. Boys generally are."

Ayas was very hungry and the stew looked and smelt very good but he was in considerable awe of the woman as indeed the whole household including its master appeared to be. Uncertain what to say he stood just inside the doorway shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

"Well," she said impatiently spooning a generous stew into another bowl, "don't stand there staring at me come here. I haven't all day."

Ayas took the bowl, hesitated and then set off for the door. It was his intention to find somewhere in the shade in the yard where he could sit on the ground and eat it. He was sure he was not allowed to sit at the table.

"Where are you going boy?" Alcestis snapped, "come back here there's bread and water on the table for you."

"Try a bit of wine with the water?" Theocrates suggested as Ayas began to eat greedily.

"Wine! – he's just a boy. Don't you dare give him wine. Boys are bad enough sober, idle stupid little brutes," as she delivered this comprehensive condemnation Alcestis dumped another generous ladle full of stew in Ayas's bowl. "They're trouble when they're sober let alone drunk."

"I don't know what the Master wanted him for or what we're going to do with him now we've got him. If the Master was like any other master we'd have no difficulty in working out why he bought a pretty boy like that and the brat would be kept busy as well satisfying him. But with him having those stupid ideas of his about sex being disgusting or something – I can't say I understand what he's going on about most of the time – I can't imagine what he bought the boy for or what we are going to do with him. But I tell you what Theocrates if we don't find something to keep him busy he'll be real trouble."

"The bread on the table is there to eat boy," she continued as Ayas hesitated to help himself.

"He was very good with Penelope," Theocrates hazarded nervously.

"Fussing over one fat donkey who anyway gets more attention than is good for her won't keep the boy busy all day long."

"Please Mistress," Ayas said speaking through a mouthful of black bread, "I could serve him his wine this evening. I know how."

"I told you once," Alcestis said clipping Ayas hard on the ear, "don't call me Mistress."

"Sorry Mother," Ayas said grinning ruefully and rubbing his stinging ear, "but I did."

"And you learnt how to do a few other things I'm sure, a pretty boy like you. Well I would say it wouldn't be a bad thing if you could make the Master behave a bit more like other men. The way he is now is pure silly and unnatural and he likes a cup of wine or two."

"Well I'll have his supper to take into him soon now and you can come along with me then. We'll have to get you cleaned up before then."

"I was washed really thoroughly before the auction this morning," Ayas like any other boy wanted to keep washing to a minimum.

"And since then you've been out in the street and in the stable and goodness knows what else. You've got to be nice and clean and sweet if you're to serve the Master. Now come out of there so I can start cleaning you up."

Taking a firm grip of one ear, Alcestis hauled the boy to his feet and dragged him over to stand near the open hearth. Ayas opened his mouth to protest but was promptly silenced with a wet rag. Realising argument was pointless Ayas stood quietly as Alcestis set vigorously to work scrubbing his body clean.

Half an hour later Ayas was ready. His dark hair had been brushed until it gleamed. His lithe young body, tanned a deep nut brown by the sun, washed and oiled, glistened in the sunlight. The slightest trace of a smear of grease in the cleft of his bottom showed he had been prepared for his master's entertainment.

"If the Master doesn't want the boy I'll have him," Theocrates said with a laugh and Ayas, his excitement obvious grinned, and wriggled his bum invitingly

"More actions not words from you old man," Alcestis snapped, "and you Ayas, safe those sort of antics for the Master. Don't forget he's paid good money for you and you belong to him."

Ayas followed Alcestis across the yard to the part of the house where the Master lived. Alcestis carried a heavy tray bearing a number of plates from which a succulent scent of roast kid and saffron rose that teased the boy's nostrils. Ayas carried a lighter tray on which was set a drinking bowl, a jug of wine and a ewer of water.

Attis was lying propped up on his elbow on a couch reading a scroll. He looked up as they entered and smiled.

"Ah Alcestis," he said happily, "my dinner, it smells delicious but then the meals you make me always do."

"Tell me," he continued easily, "how is the boy settling in I hope…"

He caught sight of Ayas standing naked and very obviously aroused behind Alcestis. His jaw dropped and his face assumed an expression of almost comical alarm. He sat up on the couch swinging his legs round so that his feet were on the ground, looking as though he was going to take flight.

"The boys no worse than most Master," Alcestis replied shortly placing the tray she was carrying on the table by the couch. "He'll serve you this evening. Take my advice Master let him feel the weight of his hand if he plays you up. It's the only thing he'll take notice of."

"Alcestis I'd much prefer you to serve me tonight… I'm sure the boy… what's his name… I'm sure he's too tired and his foot must hurt much too much…"

"The brat's name is Ayas Master," Alcestis said brusquely cutting through Attis's panic stricken stammering, "and if you think Master I'm going to spend my time serving your dinner when I have a hundred things to do in the kitchen and there is a perfectly good boy available to do the job you are mistaken."

"But Alcestis… please…"

"Master, no. You bought the boy, now you've got to find a use for him. And what's more I'm not going to have a boy hanging round my kitchen doing nothing. He'd sure to get into mischief."

"Alcestis…" but it was too late Alcestis had already left the room.

Ayas keeping his head respectfully bowed limped forward and placed his tray on the table. Taking the drinking bowl he filled it with dark red wine. He left no room for water. He thought Attis would in the circumstances probably prefer to drink it neat. He placed the bowl beside the plate of steaming kid stew and having bowed deeply, backed away to stand holding the jug of wine in both hands. The impression of demure innocence was rather marred by his swollen boy's prick jutting upright its pink tip almost level with his belly button.

Attis glanced at him, blushed crimson and quickly looked away. He grabbed the drinking bowl and lifted it with a shaking hand to his lips. Some of the wine he spilt down his tunic. The rest he swallowed in one gulp.

Ayas moved forward and refilled it.

This time however he did not return to his place at the side of the room. Instead he dropped to his knees and taking hold of Attis's hand he lifted it to his lips.

"Master," he said, "I want to thank you for your kindness. You are a good man."

Attis attempted to speak but could only manage a few inarticulate mumblings. He tried gently to free his hand from Ayas's grasp. Looking down at the dark crown of the naked boy's head bowed over his hand, seeing the lad's narrow shoulders and firm young body, knowing that the boy was his to do what he liked with he felt excitement and pity and fear and revulsion.

Excitement for he was only human and who would not in these circumstances not be excited. But, he told himself, it is because I am human that I can rise above these feelings and it is this ability that distinguishes us from mere animals and thus achieve the higher spiritual satisfactions that only the human soul can attain. At least that was what the stoic Diogenes had taught. He was though finding it very difficult to control his animal instincts and he couldn't help but wonder whether Diogenes had ever been in a similar situation to his at that moment.

Mixed with the excitement was pity for the boy who knelt at his feet so totally vulnerable and powerless. His slim young body looked so fragile. The boy had thanked him for his kindness. He could imagine how rare a thing kindness had been in that boy's brief life. How could anyone hurt something so beautiful and so weak?

But even as he asked that question he sensed, to his shame, the answer. The boy's helplessness was in itself an incitement. Try as he might he could not hide that from himself. The urge to dominate and possess was strong, almost he feared, with a feeling of intense self disgust, irresistible.

Ayas was a simple uncomplicated young animal and had no conception of the conflicting emotions that were troubling Attis. Sensing though that the man was trying to free his hand from his grasp he turned it upwards and nuzzled its palm before releasing it. Leaning his head cheek against the side of the man's thigh he smiled up at him.

Attis looked down into the boy's sun tanned face, saw the small white teeth gleaming between his slightly parted lips, the big brown eyes looking pleadingly up into his. His resolution cracked and he was lost.

Stretching out his hand he gently stroked the boy's hair.

With a single lithe movement Ayas was kneeling between the man's legs, his hands reaching up under his tunic, fumbling with his loincloth.

"No," Attis said, "no," but even as he said it he was lifting himself on the couch and pulling his tunic upwards to facilitate Ayas's removal of his loincloth.

The strip of cloth came away and Ayas buried his face in the man's crutch. Getting his head down low he pushed his tongue up behind the Attis's balls, teasing the man's perineum with the tip of his tongue.

Attis threw himself back on the couch arching his back as he experienced the most exquisite pleasure.

'The last time I did this,' Ayas thought as he took the man's balls into his mouth, 'it was with Ocytus and I bit them off.' This time though his intention was to show gratitude, to give pleasure, so as too make good in advance, as much as it was in his power to do so, the injury he was going to do his master by running away. He pressed his nose into the man's coarse pubic hair, his nostrils were full of the man's animal smells. He kissed Attis's balls and sucked gently on them making sure his teeth did not even touch them bringing the man to new heights of excitement.

Then he ran his tongue the length of the man's rigid member running its tip round the swollen pink cap before licking the beads of precum welling from his urethra. Then he took Attis's cock into his mouth. Feeling the man's blood pounding inside it, it's swollen veins rough against his lips.

Attis moaned in excitement and began to move his hips, working his cock between the boy's soft warm lips.

Ayas expected to feel the man's hand on the back of his head forcing it down on his cock but Attis even in his excitement hesitated, fearful of hurting the boy.

"If he's not going to do it I'll have too it myself," Ayas thought and taking a deep breath he swallowed the man's cock taking its full length down into his throat. He held it there while his gullet contracting around it.

Attis moaned again, more loudly and urgently than before. Ayas spluttered and swallowed and gasped as the man's cock convulsed and shot his seed deep in his throat.

"Are you all right?" Attis asked anxiously as Ayas gagged on his cum.

Ayas made no reply but wiping his mouth on the back of his hand launched himself upwards and clasping his arms tight around Attis's neck kissed him fiercely on his lips.

The momentary feeling of self disgust and doubt that gripped Attis immediately after ejaculation vanished as he found his arms full of wriggling eager boy. He responded enthusiastically tasting his own cum as he darted his tongue between the boy's parted lips.

Ayas broke the embrace nibbling the lobe of an ear, nuzzling his neck, licking and then gently bighting on his nipples, exploring his belly button with the tip of his tongue, as he worked his way down the man's body using his lips and tongue as he did so.

Again he took Attis's penis, once again swollen and throbbing, into his mouth. This time though he did not bring him to a climax. Once he had the man's rod well lubricated with saliva he hunkered back on his heels.

"Fuck me Master," he said and threw himself face down up the couch his legs spread and bottom raised invitingly.

Attis heated by the wine he had drunk and any last inhibitions banished by the sight of the boy so invitingly displayed, knelt between the boy's legs, took aim with his cock and thrust downwards.

"It won't go in…" he gasped.

"Push harder Master harder…," and then Ayas cried out at the sharp pain as his sphincter was forced.

"I'm hurting you," Attis said hesitating.

Ayas pushed his bottom upwards driving the man's prick further into himself.

"Deeper Master deeper," he moaned urgently.

Attis needed no further encouragement.

Ayas brought his Master to a climax four further times that night before Attis fell asleep exhausted and rather drunk.

Ayas woke just before dawn to find Attis lying beside him. He disentangled himself gently from the sleeping man.

The untouched plate of kid stew was lying on the table by the couch. Ayas ate it quickly.

"After all," he said to himself, "I don't know when I will next have something to eat." He was a very practical boy.

He knelt beside the couch and kissed the sleeping man's hand. He felt very guilty about running away and leaving the only master he had ever had who had shown him any kindness but he had done his best to please Attis and he thought the man had enjoyed it.

Outside he washed himself in a bucket of water drawn from the well. His bottom was sore but he was relieved to see there was no blood. Collecting Penelope from her stable he led her across the small courtyard to the wooden doors opening onto the street. He slid back the bolts and eased one of the doors open. Penelope followed him out into the lane. Jumping on her back he dug his heels into her flanks and she set off at a sedate walk.

Ayas did feel bad about running away from a master who had treated him so well but the morning air was pleasantly cool and sweet, the sun was shining, his tummy was full of cold goat's stew, and he was on the final leg of his journey to Thebes. Soon he forgot his feelings of guilt and he looked about himself eagerly as Penelope and he made there way through the almost deserted streets of the city.

Getting out of Corinth presented no real difficulties although the city seemed a large and frightening place to Ayas. Penelope seemed to know her own way to the main street. Once there she hesitated as if asking which way to go. Ayas turned her to head towards the mountains to the North which he could see over the roofs of the houses and she obedient;y set off again at the same sedate pace. Ayas tried to get her to go faster but she would not be hurried and he soon gave up.

There were beginning to be more people about in the streets now but they paid no attention to Ayas. To them he was simply a young slave boy on a donkey sent off on some early morning errand by his master.

Once out of the city though Ayas began to worry. The road instead of heading North turned to the East with the sea close on the right side. There were a number of tracks leading off to left but they were mere farm tracks. On and on the road ran beside the sea as the sun climbed ever higher in the sky. It became clear as he travelled along that the mountains that he had seen to the North of Corinth was an isolated range. Beyond them and much further the North rose even higher ones.

Ayas began to wonder whether he had missed the turning when he saw before him a taverna with a road, more a track really but larger and better surfaced than any he had earlier seen, leading off to the left.

A naked boy, about the same age as himself, was engaged in not very energetically sweeping the dust from the terrace in front of the taverna.

"I'd better check if that is the right road before I set out along it," Ayas thought but I had better better not let on that I am going to Thebes. That might star people asking questions."

"Hi," he called out to the boy, pulling on the reigns to bring Penelope to a halt, "do you know a farmer round here called Stavros? He lives on the mountain road to Thebes."

"Well that's the mountain road," the boy replied willingly putting the broom down and pointing at the track leading off to the left, "but there are about a hundred farmers called Stavros round here."

Ayas raised his hand in thanks and turning Penelope to head up the track pressed his heels into her flanks. Penelope set off at her usual unhurried pace.

At first the track ran across a broad dusty plain with the occasional village or isolated farm house. There were people about but nobody paid much attention to the slave boy on the donkey passing by.

Time passed. Penelope trudged tirelessly along with Ayas, the initial excitement gone, almost dozing on her back. Eventually the track began to rise steeply upwards. Farm land gave way to pine forests. As they gained in height the suffocating heat of the plain was replaced by cooler air. Then they were out on the bare mountain side clear of the trees.

Above him, where the track ran through a narrow valley cutting through the mountain ridge Ayas saw the sun glint on bare metal.

"Soldiers," he thought to himself, "I hope they are not Spartans or robbers either. Not that I have anything to steal, apart of course from Penelope."

As he got nearer the could see on the summit of the pass a group of tents with a dozen or so men lounging outside them in the sun. They were soldiers and lacking the long hair affected by the Spartans, he assumed they were Thebans.

When he got within a couple of hundred paces of the men he stopped Penelope and slipping from her back to the ground, he turned her to face down the hill. He had become very fond of her over the two days he had known her. She was a gentle good natured animal and she couldn't be blamed for not being faster, after all, he reminded himself, she was a donkey not a race horse. Now though he felt the time had come when they had to part. He didn't think the soldiers would appreciate her many qualities or treat her well. Anyway she belonged to Attis and he was not going to add to the injury he had done that good kind man by running away by stealing his donkey.

He put his arms round Penelope's neck and hugged her. Then stepping back he gave her a firm slap across her rump. She hesitated, looked back at him and then started to walk at the same steady unhurried pace that she had maintained all that day back down the track the way they had come.

Ayas stood a moment looking after hr. He had a high opinion of her sagacity and he thought it very likely that she would be back in her own stables within a few days.

Then he turned and began to limp up the hill towards the soldiers.

As he drew nearer one of the soldiers stepped out onto the track blocking his way.

"Who are you boy," he demanded, "and what do you want up here."

"I am," Ayas replied unconsciously echoing the formula used by noble born Spartan youths when introducing themselves, "Ayas son of Misinus the Helot and I wish to speak to your general Epaminondas."

The man roared with laughter.

"And what Ayas son of Misinus the Helot do you want to say to our General?" he asked still laughing.

"I know the Spartan plans to attack Thebes and I have come to warn him," Ayas replied feeling that everything was going wrong just when he thought success was at hand.

Without warning the man slammed his fist into the side of his head knocking Ayas to the ground.

"Insolent little brute," he said kicking him viciously in the ribs, "coming up here spinning some tale nobody could believe. Do you think we're fools boy. How could a slave brat like you know the Spartan's war plan."

"What's going on?" another soldier called out from the group of lounging men.

"A run away slave boy coming up here with some cock and bull story hoping to escape his master and maybe pick up a reward at the same time."

"Make a tripod from your spears and we'll hang the brat from that by his wrists and bloody his back with the horse whip before sending him back down the mountain to his owner. We don't want to be bothered with scum like this and if we whip him well it'll send a message to all the other slave filth. We're fighting the Spartans. We don't want to have to deal with a lot of run away slaves or put down a slave revolt as well."

Chapter 39

Fear gripped Ayas, his dreams of freedom for himself and his people were driven from his mind. All he could think of was the whip ripping his tender flesh.

"Master please master," he pleaded desperately, "please don't whip me. Master I do know the Spartans' plans."

Terror had robbed him all of pride. He was just a frightened little slave boy, stripped and hung up for a flogging, begging for mercy.

"You're not so cocky now are you slut," the soldier sneered. "Ayas son of Misinus the Helot demanding to be taken to our general ."

A ripple of mirth ran round the circle of watching men.

"Nothing like the sight of the whip to bring scum like you to heel. But you wait till you feel it lad then you'll have something to blub about."

"Give it to him Teucer," one of the soldiers called out gleefully and a murmur of approval and encouragement ran round the circle of watching men.

It was no doubt a boring posting with little to do and the prospect of watching a pretty young slave boy being flogged offered a welcome relief from the tedium of guarding a mountain pass so far away from the probable centre of action.

Teucer swung the lash back over his shoulder and, with the expertise that comes with experience paused to allow it to straighten so that his full strength and the full weight of the whip should be behind the blow, brought it cracking down across Ayas's slim shoulders.

The force of the blow knocked the boy of his feet and for a moment he swung suspended from his wrists his bare legs thrashing grotesquely in the air. All he was aware of was the pain that coursed through his body emptying his lungs of air. The mountains looming above him, the crowd of gloating soldiers, the brutal Teucer with his cruel whip, all were banished from his consciousness by a black tide of pain.

Somehow he managed to drag air down into his chest. It felt as though a bar of white hot metal was being pressed against his back. The agony wrenched shrill screams from him.

"Drawn blood at the first cut."

"Teucer is a real artist with the lash."

Ayas through the fog of pain heard the watching soldiers comment gleefully on his suffering.

"Doubt if the brat will last long."

"Oh I don't l know, Remember how long Teucer kept that slut alive he flogged back in Thebes.'

"Five drachma says the boy won't last beyond the tenth cut."

"Provided they are laid on hard," the soldier added hurriedly.

"Stand clear would you," Teucer's voice grated from somewhere behind Ayas, "I can't get a good swing at the brat with you lot crowding round."

"Master no more please," Ayas begged screaming hysterically, I do know the Spartan's plans. I really do… Please Master…"

"What is this noise about?"

An older man emerged from the largest of the tents situated on rising ground slightly behind the crowd of soldiers.

He walked forward pulling his tunic on over his head as he did so.

"Can't a man have any rest? This is meant to be a quiet posting."

A naked youth, sixteen years old at the most, appeared from the tent behind him, casting some doubt on how 'restful' his afternoon's nap had really been.

"Sorry to disturb you Captain," Teucer replied, "We were just tickling a runaway slave boy with the whip before sending him back to his Master. The brat appeared here describing himself as 'Ayas son of Misinus the Helot' just like he was a gentleman's son and then to cap his insolence demanded to be taken to our general Epaminondas. Some cock and bull story of knowing the Spartan's plan of attack."

"Lord I do know their plan," Ayas shouted desperately, "I do know it… They aren't attacking through the Iron Gates… They are coming over the mountains… I know I heard my Lord discussing it with Lord Ocytus… I did Lord… I did…"

Ayas from what he had overheard knew that the 'Iron Gates' was the name given to a pass on the normal route for an army marching on Thebes but he had no idea of where about it was situated or which where the mountains over which the Spartans now planned to attack. The soldiers though knew very well the answer to these two questions.

A sudden hush fell on them and a number turned to gaze apprehensively down the road up which Ayas had just ridden on Penelope.

Teucer though was having none of it.

"Lying little shit," he snarled cuffing Ayas hard on the back of his head. "How could scum like you know something like that. I suppose King Agislaus spent an evening discussing his strategy for the coming war over a cup of wine with you."

One or two of the soldiers laughed but it was clear that the majority were still uneasy.

"He seems remarkably knowledgeable for a slave boy," the older man remarked thoughtfully. "Normally they're ignorant little brutes."

"Tell me boy what was the name of your master and how did you come to hear this plan you're gabbling on about."

"Lord Xionedes Master, I rode his horse Vulcan and he called me to him after a race and he was talking to Lord Ocytus and they didn't know I was there till too late and I overheard them Lord."

"I was in Sparta for the negotiations that preceded this war, and a piece of play acting they were, both sides were intent on war," the captain spoke slowly clearly unable to make up his mind, "and there was a Spartan Lord Called Xionedes and he owned a horse, and a very good horse and he was called Vulcan."

The captain walked slowly forward. Standing in front of the naked boy he tipped Ayas's head back and stood looking down into his face.

"It could be the same boy," he said doubtfully, "But they all look very much the same to me."

"What did they do boy when they discovered you had overheard them. They surely didn't just say 'oh bother now he'll go off and tell the Thebans our plans' and did nothing further about it."

"Oh no Master," Ayas replied innocently, for the man's irony was lost on him. "They were going to kill me but Lord Ocytus wanted to fuck me first and I managed to escape."

"That bit at least, apart from being careless and letting you get away sounds typical of the Spartans…"

The man stood thinking and suddenly snapped, "what colour was that horse Vulcan."

"Black Master."

Even with his back smarting from the lash and his head still ringing from Teucer's blow Ayas was surprised that anyone should be ignorant of so basic a fact about the best horse in the whole of Greece and it showed in his voice.

A grim smile flitted across the man's face.

"It just could be all true," he remarked, "and that being so I can't risk ignoring it. We must get the brat as quickly as we can to Epaminondas so he can make up his own mind about this and we must prepare to hold this pass against the Spartan army for as long as we can so as to allow him time to get back from the Iron Gates and cover Thebes. If we loose Thebes we loose everything."

"Deipirus," he ordered, "you can have my horse. Take the boy up behind you and ride hard for the Iron Gates. Deliver him over to the General. Don't let him out of your sight. I am not sure about him and if it turns out he's lying I want to know that he'll die nailed to a cross."

"Why me?" the youth, who had appeared from the same tent as the captain demanded, hotly. "You'll dishonour me Peleus sending me off like this. People will say you sent me out of harms way because I am your favourite. Send one of the others. I want to stay and fight."

"You will go because I say you are to and I am in command here," Peleus snapped and then added in more equable tones.

"Because you are my friend I will tell you why I have chosen you for this task rather than anyone else. If the boy is speaking the truth it is vital Epaminondas is alerted as quickly as possible. We only have one horse and you are the lightest of all of us therefore you will make better time than all of us. We will also need to delay the Spartans for as long as we can. This is your first campaign. All the rest of us are veterans. Work it out for yourself."

"Now get yourself dressed, get your sword and cloak and saddle Dapple up. If the Spartans come this way you can keep her because I won't be needing a horse – otherwise I'll have her back when all this is over – Deipirus don't be miserable one way or another you'll have your fight. Either at the Iron Gates if the boy is lying or before Thebes if he is not."

He turned away from Ayas and began to walk back up the slope towards the line of tents and then stopped.

"Oh, and that boy seems to have got a bit above himself," he said speaking casually over his shoulder. "Teucer, give him five further cuts with the lash. It'll make him easier for Deipirus to handle. "Don't kill him and don't cripple him but get his shoulders well bloodied.."

Peleus walked on apparently oblivious to Ayas near hysterical pleas for mercy which quickly turned to shrill screams of pain as Teucer set about ripping the skin from his shoulders with the lash.

Half an hour later Ayas whimpering quietly, blood oozing from the stripes on his shoulders, was lifted onto the back of Dapple behind Deipirus. Even in his distressed state he could see that Dapple, a chestnut mare, was not a bad horse. Not of course anywhere, he told himself, as good as Vulcan but still, not at all a bad horse.

"You have about two hours before it gets dark," Peleus said standing by Dapple's head, his hand resting on Deipirus's bare thigh. "Ride hard till the light begins to fail and then rest up overnight. The road is a rough one and if you break your neck in the dark everything will be lost. Set off again at dawn and you should be with Epaminondas by nightfall. See the brat tells his story to the General and watch he doesn't try to run off on the way to him. I don't trust the boy that much."

"He shouldn't give you any trouble though. There's nothing like a sound flogging to keep that sort of scum in line."

"Now go," he squeezed the youth's thigh and raised his hand in farewell. Deipirus dug his heels into the mare's flanks and she set off at a canter with Ayas balanced somewhat precariously on her back behind him.

The road was indeed a poor one, no more than a rough track, running down the side of a narrow valley, hedged about with jagged mountains. The country was barren and inhospitable, bare rock and loose screes, the only vegetation the occasional stunted thorn bush.

Dapple, although a sure footed beast, slipped on the loose surface sending a shower of rocks clattering down the steep slope toward the river at its base far below. Deipirus pulled on the reigns, slowing her first to a trot and then to a cautious walk.

"Stop that stupid whimpering," he snapped bad temperedly at Ayas. "What a fuss to make about a simple flogging. I'm sure it isn't the first whipping you've had and it certainly won't be the last. If you don't shut up I'll give you something to really cry about."

Ayas said nothing but sniffing loudly tried to control his sobbing. The stripes on his back burnt savagely. He wondered miserably if all the risks he had taken and all the sufferings he had endured had been wasted. There was not much he thought to choose between the Spartans and the Thebans. If he could get away he would gladly leave the two of them to fight it out together. To his mind they deserved each other.

As to what he should do or where he would go, he was not sure, but there was surely somewhere. Maybe he could go back to Corinth. Attis might take him back. Attis had treated him kindly before and he might very well do so again. That was the one thing he felt really bad about – running away from him when he had treated him so well. Of course if he went back to Attis he would be beaten. He couldn't expect anything else after running off but that was all right. He deserved to be beaten, he recognized that. If being beaten was what it took to make it all right again between himself and Attis well he'd have to put up with it.

But getting away would be a problem. Deipirus being older was bigger and stronger than he was. And if that was not enough there was the sword he carried in a sheath slung across his shoulders. Of course riding behind the Deipirus on Dapple's back he could try and tip the youth out of his saddle and be off on the horse before he was back on his feet.

He was pretty sure he could get away with that especially if he picked a spot where the track was narrow and Deipirus went over its edge. But what if he didn't get away with it.? Deipirus mightn't be too easy to tumble out of the saddle or maybe he would know enough to keep hold of the reigns when he was thrown. Very likely he would for, so far as Ayas could judge, he knew what he was up to on a back of a horse.

Ayas had no illusions about what would happen to him if he tried and failed. Deipirus would beat him savagely and then, in all probability, bind him so that he would be unable to make another attempt to escape. Better, he thought, to wait for a better opportunity. The journey in front of them would take a good two days. There would surely be an opportunity to sip away during that time, perhaps while Deipirus was asleep. Or there was that sword of his. If Ayas could get hold of that the youth's superior strength would not matter. If necessary he would kill him. He had killed once and if necessary he would kill again. Deipirus had done nothing to make him hesitate to use the sword on him.

They rode on in silence each engrossed in his own thoughts. Ayas imagining the weight of the sword in his hand and the fear in Deipirus's eyes as the youth realised that he was at the mercy of the slave boy he so obviously despised. Deipirus sulky and resentful at being ordered away from his comrades just when there seemed to be some chance of excitement.

The sun sank lower in the West. They had been loosing height for some time and the track was now running along the base of the valley through clusters of small fir trees, the river tumbling over its rocky beside it.

In the failing light they came to a place where a grass bank shelved gently down to the stream. Deipirus reigned Dapple in.

"Get down and hold the horse," he ordered. "We will stop the night here."

Ayas slid from the horse's back, his naked body rustling silkily against her closely clipped flanks. He hurried forward and caught hold of the mare's bridle.

Deiprus dismounted and while Ayas held the horse's head unfastened his rolled up cloak from behind the saddle.

"Take her down to the river and water her," he snapped impatiently and aimed a kick at the boy's bare rump to hurry him on his way.

Ayas led Dapple down to the stream choking back the anger and resentment that seethed within him.

"I'll teach him," he promised himself the cold water swirling round his ankles as Dapple drank thirstily beside him. "Just let me get hold of that sword of his and I'll make him feel sorry for that and everything else too. He won't be so ready with his fists or his boots then."

He imagined holding the sword to Deipirus's throat, forcing him to kneel and plead for mercy. He wondered what he would do then. Would he spare the youth, perhaps just giving him a good hiding, or would he kill him, stabbing him in the throat, the life blood spurting from the wound and staining the clear water red.

Both possibilities he decided seemed to have their attractions. Perhaps it was best to leave making a decision until the moment arose.

Seated on his cloak with his back against the trunk of a fir tree Deipirus had no idea of Ayas' suppressed rage. Looking down the grassy slope at the slim figure of the naked boy standing quietly beside the mare in the glittering stream he thought how much improved Ayas had been by his flogging. The conceit and brashness had been whipped out of him. It just showed how a slave boy needed an occasional sound beating to keep him in order. And really, he thought looking at the boy as he turned to walk Dapple back up the slope towards where he sat, he was a quite attractive little slut. Perhaps the night would not be without its pleasures.

"Tether the horse and bring the saddle bag here" he ordered.

Standing in front of him Ayas saw that the sword lay in its scabbard on the ground close to the youth's right hand. Be patient, he told himself, your chance will come.

"Give me the bag then boy," Deipirus said impatiently.

Ayas held it out and the youth snatched it from him. He pulled out a loaf of bread and a lump of cheese wrapped in dock leaves. Suddenly Ayas realised how very, very hungry he was. So hungry that he could almost have cried. He had seen enough of Deipirus to be sure that he would not even think of offering anything to him. It wouldn't be too bad if he didn't have to stand and watch him eating but Deipirus showed no sign of dismissing him. Ayas looked longingly towards the sword, so near to hand but so impossible for him to lay hold of.

Deipirus hacked a chunk of bread from the loaf with the knife he carried in his belt and stuffed it in his mouth. Watched hungrily by Ayas he attacked the loaf with his knife again. Still chewing he held the second chunk of bread out to Ayas.

"Sit," Deiprus ordered, patting the ground to his left.

For some time they sat silently side by side munching bread and cheese.

Deiprus saw no reason why he should talk to someone so below him in everyway as a slave boy. There was hardly more in common between him and Ayas in his opinion as there was between him and Dapple. The boy in his brutish ignorance was no more than an animal. Indeed in financial terms a less valuable one than the mare. He was nice to look at and later on he had every intention of using him for sex. The fact that he was sharing his food with the boy didn't mean he had any particular tenderness or fondness for him. He was just something to be used and he would serve his purpose better fed than starving.

On his side Ayas' anger at the way he had been treated by the Thebans in general and Deipirus in particular was still burning fiercely. He wasn't going to refuse food, the idea didn't even occur to him, for he was always hungry, but he wasn't going to be bribed into forgetting his maltreatment by gifts of bread and cheese.

On the other hand he thought he had a pretty good idea of what Deipirus was planning for later on that night and he rather looked forward to it provided it didn't involve his being whipped or beaten. He enjoyed sex and had in time learnt to be rather good at it. He thought he could possibly teach Deipirus a thing or two and anyway the Theban was a strong good looking youth.

The last crumb of bread and fragment of cheese was eaten. Deipirus reached over and slipping his arm round Ayas's neck drew the boy to him. With his hand under the boy's chin he tilted his head back and kissed him fiercely on his lips. Ayas responded enthusiastically winding his arms about the youth's shoulders and hugging him tightly. Deipirus slipped his tongue between Ayas' parted lips while he slipped his free hand between the boy's legs, his fingers toying with his small hairless balls.

Ayas fumbled with the youth's loincloth. It fell away and Deipirus's swollen prick freed from confinement pressed hard against his bare flesh. Sitting up Deipirus undid his belt and shrugged off his tunic. Ayas teased one of the youth's nipples with his tongue and then gently squeezed it with his teeth. Slowly he worked his way down Deipirus's still hairless chest, caressing it with his lips, tasting the lad's the salt sweat on his tongue.

He briefly explored Deipirus's belly button with the tip of his tongue before continuing his journey down the lad's taught stomach to the as yet small tuft of coarse curly pubic hair that covered his balls. He licked the beads of precum from the tip of Deipirus's cock before kissing the pulsating shaft . He tried to push his tongue up behind Deipirus's balls. In response to his efforts the youth bent his knees and spread his legs allowing Ayas access to that sensitive area that lies between the genitals and the anus. Deipirus moaned and shuddered in excitement. Hastily Ayas took his cock into his mouth, swallowing it, he gagged and spluttered as the youth shot his seed into the back of his throat.

Ayas lay for a moment his head resting on Deipirus's stomach, the youth's coarse pubic hair tickling his nose. He placed his hand on Deipirus's now flaccid cock feeling it damp and sticky from a mixture of his own saliva and the lad's drying cum. It was not long before Deiprus's appetite fuelled by all the vigour of healthy youth to reawaken. Ayas felt his prick stir and harden under his touch. He took its swollen tip between his lips, running his tongue along its slit.

"Over on your belly slut," Deipirus commanded his voice thick with lust, "and get your legs apart. You're not getting off so lightly this time."

Ayas woke with a start. Close by he could hear Dapple neighing shrilly, hooves thumping and scrabbling on the ground. Deipirus was lying on top of him but he too had been woken by the noise. He rolled off Ayas. There was an audible plop as their sweat soaked bodies parted.

How many times Ayas wondered drowsily. Five or possibly six he thought. If six it was a personal best.

He was jerked into full consciousness by an eerie long drawn out howl that rose and fell shrilly in the still air. He sat up the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. He saw in the faint grey light that immediately preceded dawn dim shapes moving among the scattered trees.

"Wolves," Deipirus announced unnecessarily.

"Get behind me," he hissed as he levered himself to his feet and drew his sword.

Ayas crowched between Deipirus and the trunk of the tree under which they had slept as the wolves circled, drawing ever closer. Deipirus, his sword blade glinting faintly in the slowly strengthening light, turned from side to side trying to anticipate where the first attack would come from.

Suddenly a wolf launched itself from the shadows. Deipirus swung to face it, his sword held two handed in front of him. His hope was that the wolf would impale itself on the extended blade. Either Deipirus missed his footing or the sword was poorly aimed. The wolf crashed into him and the sword flew from his hand.

Ayas jumped forward and seized it.

Chapter 40

Ayas in later crises would sometimes reflect that if he had at that moment taken advantage of the opportunity then offered him his subsequent life would have been much simpler and more comfortable, although very much less exciting. The sword was lying there almost at his feet, Deipirus was down on the ground being savaged by a wolf, Dapple was tethered close at hand. It would have been so easy to pick up the sword jump, on Dapple's back and leave Deipirus to the wolves. Then it would be back to Corinth and a life of being spoilt by Attis who had been so kind to him in the past and whom, he was sure would take him back.

If he had had time to think he might have acted in that way. But there was no time to think. The wolf had sunk his teeth in the youth's forearm and was raking his chest with his claws. Another wolf, teeth bared and glittering white in the dim early morning light was getting set to launch itself at Deipirus's throat.

Ayas grabbed the sword and spun to face the second wolf just at the moment the animal launched itself into the attack. The sword was heavy and it took all Ayas's strength to wield it. Lifting it two handed above his head he stepped forward and with a single heavy blow splitting the beast's snout. The wolf emitted a noise more like a human scream than a dog's howl and veered off.

Ayas turned and drove the point of the sword into the flank of the wolf savaging Deipirus just behind its left foreleg. The beast went down on its side and the boy tugged desperately at the sword trying to draw it clear of the dead carcass. Ayas put a foot on the wolves chest and tugged on the handle of the sword with all his strength. The blade suddenly came free and he staggered back two paces almost loosing his balance.

He recovered himself just in time. Darting forward he straddled the fallen Deipirus while the pack circled him slowly looking for an opportunity to attack. A wolf bolder than its companions lunged forward. Thrusting with the point of his sword Ayas drove it back towards where Dapple was tethered. The mare, who had been neighing and dancing furiously about, lashed out with both her hind legs. Her hooves caught the wolf in the ribs the force of the blow lifting it well clear of the ground. The wolf landed on its four paws. It took three unsteady paces and fell on it's side blood trickling from its mouth.

The pack continued to circle grey and menacing in the strengthening light of early dawn. And then suddenly they vanished.

Ayas blinked his eyes. Keeping up his guard he peered into the undergrowth until convinced that the wolves had really gone no doubt to find less difficult prey he turned to where Deipirus lay pinned down under the carcass of the dead wolf.

The youth had dragged himself half clear of the dead beast. He was sitting his back propped against the trunk of the pine tree Blood was welling from the wounds inflicted on his right arm and the front of his chest by the wolf's teeth and claws. He was trying to tear his tunic into strips using his teeth and his knife grasped in his left hand.

Ayas, sticking the point of the sword into the ground so it was close to hand, knelt down beside Deipirus. Taking the knife and tunic from him he set to work.

'This is stupid,' he thought, as the excitement drained from him, 'I have been planning to escape from Deipirus and dreaming of paying him back for what he and the other Thebans have done to me and now when I have my chance I'm helping him. What I ought to do is kick him in the ribs and then get on Dapple and ride off leaving him to take his chance. Maybe travellers will come along the track and find him before he bleeds to death before the wolves come back; maybe not.'

But it would be very difficult to do that now. It was, Ayas felt, as he began to bandage Deipirus's wounds, impossible in the circumstances to abandon him in that way. He couldn't suddenly and without any immediate cause turn on the wounded youth. Not when he had already began to help him … But just let Deipirus say something out of turn or try giving an order or ask for the sword back and then he would learn fast enough who was the master now.

By the time Ayas had finished binding the deep gashes in Deipirus's right arm it was full daylight.

"We must get on," Deipirus said, struggling painfully to get himself to his feet, "We must warn Epaminondas that the Spartans are coming over the mountains."

He couldn't get himself off the ground. He tried to lever himself up the trunk of the tree but his legs gave way under him before he had got halfway upright.

"I can't stand up and if I can't stand I can't get onto Dapple let alone ride her and your too small to help me."

"Ayas take my sword, you may need it, there maybe thieves or more wolves ahead and ride on. Leave me here. You must carry the message to our general."

Ayas hunkered back on his heels outraged. It was bad enough that Deipirus was still trying to order him around. But a bigger insult was to be told he was small and useless and that by a youth who was giving up at the first hurdle. Ayas thought of the difficulties and dangers he personally had faced and overcome and raged inwardly. The only thing that prevented him immediately bursting out in anger was that he could not make up his mind as to which of Deipirus's statements he resented the most.

"Well get a move on boy," Deipirus snapped impatiently totally unaware of the offence he was causing, he after all was the master and Ayas the slave boy and slave boys were there to be ordered about and to serve. "There's no time to be lost."

In a single lithe movement Ayas got to his feet. He padded over to where Dapple stood quietly grazing calm now after the excitement of the night. Apparently docile and obedient inwardly Ayas was seething with rage. As luck would have it Deipirus's comment about him being too small to be any help was the one that particularly rankled.

"Not able to help," Ayas muttered angrily to himself as he swung the saddle onto the chestnut mare's back and tightened the girth, "We'll show him Dapple won't we – stuck up bastard that he is."

He led the mare over to where Deipirus lay and stood looking down at the youth.

"What are you waiting for?" Deipirus demanded angrily. "Get on the horse and go."

He felt he was doing rather a fine thing, telling the boy to leave him and to carry the warning message on to the main Theban army. Despite what he had said himself he knew there was little chance of any other travellers coming along that road before nightfall. It was wild country at the best of times and with war looming between Thebes and Sparta people did not generally stray far from their homes. When night came, if not sooner, the wolves would be back and that would be the end of him. However the all important thing was to save the city. Compared to that his own fate was unimportant.

That was not to say he wanted to die. He most certainly didn't. He wanted desperately to live. Life was sweet and he wanted to enjoy it. He wished the boy would get a move on and go. Not stand over him staring at him. If Ayas delayed much longer his own resolution might crack and he would tell the boy to stay.

"Go," he said again, "do as you're told boy – go."

Ayas took a deep breath and swallowed. Trained to be obedient and used to being so it took more nerve than he had expected to openly defy a direct order.

"This," he said, "is what we are going to do. Dapple is going on your left and you are going to catch hold of her girth with your good hand and try to pull yourself up with it. I will support you on your right and between us you will walk across to where the stream has cut into the bank just below us. When you are there you will sit on the bank and I will bring Dapple down below you and you will slide onto her back. It'll be like a mounting block."

Deipirus lay on the ground gazing up at Ayas his mouth open, momentarily struck dumb by the, as he saw it, insolence of the young slave.

"You filthy little brute," he raved finding words at last to express his rage, "You wait till I get my hands on you."

He made a grab for Ayas which the boy easily evaded by taking a step backwards.

"You will go. You will go now," Deipirus shouted angrily, "the safety of Thebes depends on you warning Epaminondas of the Spartan attack over the mountains."

"Thebes," Ayas replied, "is your city not mine. I couldn't care less what happens to it. The Spartans can sack it for all I care. I'm not leaving here unless you're up on the back of Dapple."

Moving well out of Deipirus's reach he settled himself on the ground with every appearance of being ready for a long wait.

"If you'll just do as I ask," Deipirus said breaking a long period of silence and forcing himself to sound calm, "Epaminondas and all of Thebes will be very grateful. You will be given your freedom and made a rich man."

"Like I was rewarded by your Captain," Ayas said bitterly, "strung up by my wrists and whipped. The stripes still burn thank you Master."

There was another long silence.

"All right," Deipirus said sullenly, "get Dapple over here. I'll do as you say."

"You know it's no good thinking you can beat me into doing what you say once you get hold of me," Ayas said cautiously as he stood up. "I just won't do it you know and you won't be able to make me."

He task was nowhere as easy as he imagined it would be. First Deipirus had to drag himself away from the tree so that Dapple could be brought to stand beside him. Then the horse had to be persuaded to play her part while Deipirus struggled to pull himself upright with his left arm as Ayas, with the youth's injured arm draped over his shoulder, tried to lift him on the right. Dapple was willing enough but was nervous and could not understand what was required of her. It was difficult to get her to keep still and for a time it looked as though Deipirus was going to be trampled on by a horse in addition to being savaged by wolves. Then, although Ayas would never admit it, Deipirus was a good deal heavier than he had expected and it took every ounce of his strength to support him on the opposite side to Dapple. In addition Deipirus himself suffered agonies of pain from his injured right arm as Ayas struggled to play his part in holding. him upright.

It took some considerable time, rather than the few minutes Ayas had imagined it would, to get Deipirus from the tree under which he had been lying to the river bank. The journey had to be interrupted a number of times to allow Deipirus to rest and Dapple to calm down. By the time they reached its end Deipirus was pale and breathing heavily and Ayas's naked body was glistening with sweat.

"Wait here while I get your cloak and bring Dapple round below you," Ayas ordered lowering Deipirus to the ground.

The youth said nothing but sat slumped on the ground. He began to shiver violently. Ayas stood for a moment looking down at him. It had just begun to dawn on him that in trying to prove that he was not so small and weak to be useless he had missed an easy opportunity to escape back to Thebes and the protection of Attis, the only adult, with the exception of his mother, who had ever shown him kindness. Of course it was still open to him to jump up on Dapple's back and set off leaving Deipirus. The youth was clearly in no condition to try to stop him or indeed to look after himself. For that very reason he knew that he simply couldn't do so. Much as he resented the youth's arrogance he couldn't just abandon him especially after already putting so much effort into trying to help him.

Then he had said he was not going to leave without Deipirus and he wouldn't do so. Apart from anything else what would the youth think of him if having said that he went off and left him. For some reason he couldn't quite explain what Deipirus thought of him seemed to have come to matter quite a lot to him.

And though, as he told himself he heartily disliked the arrogant sod, it didn't mean he didn't feel sorry for him, injured and clearly in pain.

Ayas picked up Deipirus's cloak from where it lay on the ground. He shook it to get rid of the dry earth and small twigs that were stuck to it. He saw there were some patches of dried blood on it. Well he couldn't do anything about that.

He carried it across to where Deipirus sat and wrapped it round his shaking shoulders.

He recovered the sword and copying Deipirus slung it, housed in its leather scabbard, over his left shoulder. Now he thought I am truly in charge. I am as good as any free boy.

Swaggering slightly he walked across to where Dapple was quietly grazing. He was so small that the point of the sword brushed against the backs of his knees which spoilt the effect a little.

He swung himself up onto Dapple's back and walked her quietly up the stream until she was standing in the fast flowing water immediately under the bank where he had left Deipirus.

"Now then Dap," he said leaning forward to pat the horse's neck reassuringly, "you've got to be very, very good."

He twisted round in the saddle. Now he was facing Dapple's rear with Deipirus, his bare legs hanging over the side of the bank, immediately to his right.

"Get your legs on either side of Dapple's back and ease yourself forward," Ayas instructed.

Deipirus stared blankly at him. He did not seem to understand what he had said.

Ayas reached out and took hold of each of the youth's ankle's.

'We can't stay here,' Ayas thought to himself, 'so I just hope he understands what he must do before long. Otherwise we'll both finish up in the stream because I am not strong enough to do all this by myself.'

He tugged as hard as he could on Deipirus's legs trying to guide them so that they straddled Dapple's back. The youth started to slide forward. It seemed that he was just going to let himself go and that he would inevitably fall into the stream between the horse and the river bank. Then, at the last moment, he seemed to grasp what was happening and pushed himself away from the bank. Dapple startled by the sudden increase of weight on her back did a little dance. Throwing his arms round Deipirus, Ayas clamped his knees tight against Dapple's flanks and the danger passed. When the horse was quiet Ayas, with Deipirus balanced somewhat unsteadily behind him, turned her, and rode her out of the stream, up the slope to the road.

The pain now Deipirus thought was really not so bad. His right arm throbbed somewhat but it was more uncomfortable than painful. It could not be compared with what he had experienced earlier. Then it had taken all his will power and self discipline not to cry out and he would have done so if he had been alone. It was only the presence of Ayas that had stopped him screaming. He was not going to let himself down like that in front of a mere slave boy. It was funny though how the fir trees that now lined the track along which they were riding seemed to move as they passed, drawing near and receding like waves running up a beech. Strange too was the way that the world would suddenly turn black and he would not even feel the dull ache of his injured arm.

It was difficult to think straight but of one thing he was certain. They should get a move on. They had delayed too long already. Even now the Spartans might have crushed the small detachment guarding the pass and be pouring down the track behind them on the road to Thebes. They must hurry. He tried to tell Ayas to get Dapple to go faster but the boy seemed not to understand him. He tried to dig his heels into Dapple's flanks to lift her from her steady walk but his legs were too weak.

If only Ayas had just done as he was told and left him behind the boy could have reached the Theban army that evening and alerted them to the danger in time to save the city. When once he got his strength he would have to remind the boy who was master and, he told himself, he would do it in such away that the brat would never again be in doubt on that point.

Chapter 41

He would have felt happy and content was it not for Deipirus balanced precariously behind him on the mare's back. It all seemed so very unfair to Ayas. Surely it was his turn to be on top with Deipirus injured and dependent on him. Any reasonable person could see that. It followed as night follows day. He had seen off the wolves. He had bandaged Deipirus's wounds and got him up onto Dapple's back. And yet, when by any measure he should be doing exactly what he wanted and nothing else he was somehow or other still in thrall to the youth.

Having found the Thebans as cruel as the Spartans he wanted to get back to of the safety Corinth and the kind hearted Attis but here he was every step Dapple took carrying him further away from Corinth and closer to Thebes. And he couldn't just turn Dapple round and trot back up the road into the mountains, not with Deipirus to look after. The youth was muttering incoherently to him self and showing a distressing tendency to kick his legs about which was unsettling Dapple and making her difficult to control. Ayas judged it wouldn't be very long before Deipirus took a tumble and once he was down he would be all but impossible to get up again. Unless Ayas was prepared to leave the injured youth on the side of the road to die all he could do was to press on down the road towards Thebes in the hope that they would before too long find a farm house or villa where he could seek help. Then perhaps he could off load Deipirus and truly free at last set off back towards Corinth and Attis. Until then though he was stuck with him. All he could do was to keep Dapple down to a steady walk so as to minimise the chances of Deipirus falling off and to keep an eye out for a human habitation.

The valley down which they were riding widened. A track led off to the right appearing to lead back into the mountains. Shortly after this they forded a stream and Ayas noticed hoof prints in the soft mud. A body of horse men, perhaps five or six altogether, had passed that way quite recently. Apart from taking heart from this evidence of the presence of other human beings he thought no more about it.

Then they were clear of the forest riding along a lane between two dry stone walls, well maintained olive groves stretching away on either side of them. A field of barley followed' the breeze rippling the golden corn and beyond it a large villa with its adjacent barns and slave quarters speaking of prosperity and order.

Ayas walked Dapple up the short gravelled track to the villa and passing under an archway rode into the courtyard. Men and women were hurrying about their daily work. A burly man dressed in a shabby brown tunic and heavy boots who was supervising a gang of slaves unloading a cart of grain sacks strode towards them. "Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded.

Ayas hesitated. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were looking at him and there were an awful lot of them, a number very large and tough looking slaves. He had Deipirus's sword but he realised that if things turned nasty he could not hope to cut his way free against so many. He knew from bitter experience that an ill judged reply, the stripes left by the lash still burnt, to such a question could have painful consequences. The important thing was to shift responsibility for Deipirus onto someone else. When he had done that he would take the first opportunity to slip quietly away and start on the journey back to Corinth and Attis who had treated him so kindly.

"Please Sir," Ayas said speaking very humbly and politely, "We were attacked by wolves in the mountains and my Master was hurt and he needs help Sir."

"And who is your master boy?"

Ayas hesitated again. He realised suddenly that he knew nothing about Deipirus beyond his name and the fact that he was a free citizen of Thebes or at least he thought he was for he was serving in the Theban army.

Obviously that was not nearly enough to answer the man's question so equally obviously he would have to make something up and his inventions would be calculated to enhance Deipirus's importance.

"He is Deipirus a free born citizen of Thebes the son of a rich landowner. He was serving with a detachment of the Theban army guarding the frontier with Corinth when he was sent with an important message to the Commander in Chief, Epaminondas. Who is," Ayas added with a flash of inventive genius that did the boy no credit at all, "his uncle."

"Have the young lord carried into the house and you boy attend on your Master. Have someone take the horse round to the stables and see that it is fed and groomed."

Ayas saw that a tall lady dressed in a deep blue robe over a long white gown of the finest silk had joined the group and was standing with one slim hand resting on the shoulder of a boy a year or two older than himself.

Obediently, Ayas swung himself out of the saddle and slid to the ground. Turning he encountered the other boy's gaze fixed coldly on him. He dropped his eyes and stood holding Dapple's reigns his head respectfully bowed.

"He's a pretty boy," the lad remarked speaking with an affected drawl, "I like him. Can I have him to fuck Mother?"

"You'll have to ask his master dear," the woman replied laughing indulgently, "but I can't see why not. After all he's only a slave boy." The lad stepped close to Ayas and tipping back his head with a hand cupped under his chin stared cold eyed down into his face.

"A pretty little slut," he drawled appreciatively, "I wonder if he is as good a fuck as he looks"

Resting his hand on Ayas' shoulder he turned him so that he could see his back.

"Oh Mother," he cooed a hint of excitement in his voice, "the poor little pet has been whipped recently. Just think of the cruel lash ripping his tender flesh. I wish I had been there to hear him scream and see the blood flow."

Ayas felt the youth run a finger tip along one of the welts that ribbed his shoulders.

"Darling," the lady said laughing indulgently, "it's so nice you are so easy to please but we must look after our young guest."

"Meriones," she continued speaking to the foreman, "lift the young lord down from the horse and carry him into the house for me. I'll show you where I want him taken."

The lady her hand still resting on her son's shoulder led the way across the courtyard.

"Now Dear," she said once they were inside the house, "you go away and amuse yourself while I look after Deipirus. Once I've made him comfortable you can come and see him."

Deipirus was carried up the stairs and placed on a couch in a large and airy room looking out over the court yard.

Ayas unbidden slipped the strap of the scabbard over his head and placed the sword beside the couch on which Deipirus lay. He did this reluctantly but he knew, once he had openly acknowledged the youth as his master, he would have to return it to him at the first opportunity that presented itself. He consoled himself with the thought that anyway the thing was of no use to him at the moment. He could not take on the whole household even armed with a sword and he could always steal it back later if he did have need of it.

Maids were summoned, water heated, and potions prepared. The lady, Ayas still had no idea of her name as the maids referred to her only as Mistress, removed the make shift bandages with which he had bound up Deipirus's wounds. Ayas standing beside the couch saw the youth bite his lips to avoid crying out as the blood soaked rags were pulled away and this wounds were bathed and bandaged.

"Drink this" the lady said holding a wine cup to Deipirus's lips. The youth drank and sank back on the couch. His eyes flickered and then closed.

"Stay with your Master," the lady commanded Ayas. "He will sleep deeply for a time."

She rose and left the room followed by her maids.

Now Ayas thought I might as well slip away than wait for a better opportunity which may never arise. He waited a few minutes to be sure that the woman and her attendants were well away before gently easing the door to the corridor open. He peered round it and then drew his head quickly back. A maid was sitting on a stool in the corridor. Fortunately she was busy with her spindle and so engrossed in her task that she did not notice Ayas. However there was clearly was no chance at all of his getting past her and out of the house.

He closed the door silently and stood for a moment thinking. He decided he had better get away without delay if he possibly could. Quite apart from anything else there was a very real chance that he would be caught out with his fib about Deipirus being the nephew of Epaminondas.

The lie at the time he uttered it seemed to him to be a good idea but now he was not so sure. No Theban landowner, however unwelcoming would surely refuse to assist the injured nephew of the leader of the city's army and it seemed to Ayas that it was only by getting someone else to take in Deipirus that he could free himself of responsibility for the youth. It had worked. In any event Deipirus was now inside the house and being looked after. Ayas was not sure however that the youth had been fully conscious when he had awarded him so distinguished an uncle. There was no way now with him sleeping deeply to explain the subterfuge to him and consequently every chance that he would give the game away when he woke. Indeed he could not be sure Deipirus would back him up even if he knew about the deception. He might well decide it was beneath his dignity to conspire with a slave boy to deceive a fellow free citizen and insist on telling the truth.

What Ayas had seen of the lady and in particular of her son, had convinced him that neither would take very kindly to being tricked by a slave boy and that it would be as well if he made himself scarce before, in one way or another, they found out.

The door was barred to him. He tiptoed across the room to the window. Immediately below him a red tiled roof sloped downwards over some sort of arcade running along one side of the courtyard. It would, he thought, be an easy drop from that to the ground. Directly opposite him was the archway through which he had ridden just a few hours before. The great gates stood open and beyond them he could see the track running down to join the road from the mountains.

But the courtyard teemed with activity. There was little chance of his getting out of the window and climbing down to the ground unnoticed. As he stood hesitating he noticed two men lounging on either side of the gateway. They had not been there before.

Then he saw the bailiff' Meriones' emerge from the stables on one side of the courtyard leading a horse. He swung himself into the saddle and walked the horse through the archway. Once clear of the court yard he kicked the horse into a sharp trot. When he reached the road he turned to the right taking the route into the mountains. Ayas wondered what errand he was on in such a hurry and then turning away from the window forgot all about him.

It was clear he thought that he could not hope to make a run for it at the moment with any chance of success. Perhaps there would be a better chance when it was dark. Meanwhile he would just have to stay where he was and hope for the best. He suddenly realised that he was very tired. He curled up on a rug beside the couch on which Deipirus lay.

It looked as though the lady had set guards on them. He wondered why. Probably he decided it was simply to protect Deipirus. It was only natural she should be concerned about the welfare of a youth with apparently such important connections. With that comforting thought he fell asleep.

He was woken by a sharp kick in the ribs.

Standing over him was the lady's son.

"Lazy little turd," the youth hissed kicking him a second time, "sleeping when you should be looking after your master. You deserve to be well whipped."

"Get up."

"Get up."

Each order was accompanied by a further heavy kick.

Ayas scrambled to his feet getting coughed hard on the side of his head while doing so.

"What's going on? What's happening?" Deipirus, woken by the commotion, demanded from the bed.

"Ah you're awake," the youth said turning to speak to him leaving Ayas nursing his burning ear. "Mother said you should be waking up soon and she has sent me to ask you if you would care to join us for our evening meal."

"My name by the way is Otus."

"Thank you," Deipirus replied politely, "I would be delighted to do so though I am afraid I will be in the circumstances a poor dinner companion. I still feel very weak."

"But why were you beating the brat? What has he done wrong this time?"

"I caught him asleep on the floor when I came in the room when he should have been kneeling by your bed ready to help you if you wanted him. Typical, the only thing that scum like him understand or respect is the lash well laid on."

"Ayas isn't too bad," Deipirus said rather defensively, "he held the wolves off me back in the mountains when I went down."

Otus looked startled.

"Well," he said after a moments silence, "so he should have and he had to do it anyway to safe his own miserable carcass. You know what we do to a slave who is anywhere about when his master is killed. A lingering death on the cross is what he'd have got if he had allowed the wolves to kill you. Mind you it'd be rather fun to see a pretty thing like him pinned up on the gibbet with nails through his wrists and ankles."¹

"Anyway he did keep the wolves off me and I'm not going to thrash him for falling asleep."

" It would be different." Deipirus added hastily for he didn't want to be thought to be soft on a slave, "if he had been disobedient or insolent to you. I'd beat the boy hard then of course."

"You'll be making a big mistake if you start treating him special just because he did what he had to do. He'll start thinking he's special and taking advantage. He may have saved you from the wolves but he's just a slave and he should be made to remember that."

"And Mother says," he added, "it's specially important that we keep the slaves down now when there's a war on because otherwise they'll get restive and begin thinking of running away or mutinying or something."

Deipirus stirred uneasily on the couch. He agreed with a great deal of what Otus was saying. He also felt Ayas had been showing signs of getting above himself and in particular of trying to take charge after seeing off the wolves. He thought Ayas probably did need taking down a peg or two. Nevertheless he felt it just wasn't fair in the circumstances to beat Ayas for falling asleep and he was still young enough for the concept of fairness to be very important to him.

Nevertheless it wouldn't be a bad idea to remind the boy that he was a slave and to make him acknowledge it.

"Ayas is a good little slut." he said. "He knows he's my slave and he must be obedient and work hard. Don't you boy?"

Ayas felt trapped. He didn't know anything of the sort but with Otus older and bigger and stronger than him standing within a few feet of himself he could hardly say so.

He swallowed hard and hung his head.

"Yes… Master," he muttered reluctantly.

"I didn't hear you Ayas," Deipirus was remorseless in pressing home his advantage, "You know you are my slave and must be obedient and work hard. Speak up and tell my friend Otus what you are and what you must do. Come along boy."

"Master I am your slave and I must be obedient and work hard."

Ayas blurted the words out red faced and on the verge of tears. He knew he had no choice but he despised and hated himself for doing so.

"Very good."

Indeed Deipirus was pleased to have wrung this acknowledgement from Ayas but he was still not satisfied. He sensed the resentment in the boy's voice and knew he should not tolerate it. A slave's submission after all ought to be complete and unconditional. Above all he wanted to demonstrate to Otus that he had the boy well in hand. He didn't want his new friend to think he was so irresponsible as to be soft on a slave. He felt a twinge of unease as he remembered Ayas straddling his fallen body the drawn sword in his hand holding off the wolves but he told himself that what he was doing was really in the boy's best interests cruel though it might appear. Better to check the brat now than later when even harsher methods would be required.

"Now show your respect. Get down on your knees and get your face down to the floor. Right down boy."

Ayas knelt on the ground his face pressed to the floor his bare bottom up in the air. He was aware of the two free youths looking down at his naked body and felt utterly humiliated and vulnerable.

"He's a pretty little animal," Otus remarked. "I suppose you've fucked him. What's he like to have sex with?"

"Not bad, not bad at all," Deipirus replied judiciously and smiled.

. He remembered that night in the mountains, the sound of the wind stirring the pine trees, Ayas' young body trembling with excitement pressed against his, the boy's eager lips and quick tongue and later the heat of the boy's body clamped tight about his thrusting cock seeming to be trying to draw it deeper into himself . He really thought that Ayas was very good but he was not going to compromise his dignity by saying so.

Then a happy thought occurred to him.

"Why don't you try him?" he asked. "There's just time enough before supper."

It all seemed very sensible to Deipirus. It served two purposes admirably. It showed Otus he was in charge and reinforced the lesson that he had already given Ayas in subordination and humility. What the boy thought of the offer was another matter but that was of no importance anyway.

Footnote:

1. Under Roman law all the slaves in the household of a Roman Citizen who met an unnatural death were to be crucified. Indeed Tacitus describes in detail an instance when this law was applied during the reign of the Emperor Nero and the whole household of a murdered Roman numbering several hundred including women and children were executed in this way. I do not know if the same rule was applied by the Greeks but it seems to me that its practical advantages (from the slave owners point of view that is – which is the only one that carried any weight) are so obvious that it or something very similar very probably would have been.

"Get your bum up in the air and your legs apart whore," he ordered reinforcing the command with a hard open handed slap across the boy's bottom.

Spitting on his hand he perfunctorily lubricated his already swollen cock with saliva.

Ayas felt the youth's thumbs digging into his bottom, pulling the lips of his anus apart; then the tearing pain as Otus hammered his prick into him.

"I do like to hear a slut squeal," Otus grunted as he thrust brutally forward.

With his prick safely lodged in Ayas's guts Otus took a firm hold of the boy's hips pulling the lad back onto his probing rod as he drove forward. Ayas's whimpers of pain, the youth's laboured panting, the sharp rhythmic slap of bare flesh meeting as Otus brutally pumped the boy's combined in a symphony of lust and cruelty.

Deipirus felt excitement rise within him. He did not see why he should be excluded from the fun. He pulled himself to the edge of the bed and sat upright his feet on the ground. He grabbed a handful of Ayas's hair and pulled his head back. The boy's eyes were blank and staring like a panic stricken animal caught in a trap, his mouth drawn back in a grimace of pain. Deipirus cracked him savagely back handed across his face. Ayas blinked and his eyes came into focus. Satisfied that he had the boy's attention Deipirus pulled his head down into his crutch.

Ayas, felt the youth's coarse pubic hairs against his face. The tart scent of stale sweat and faeces filled his nostrils. He tried to turn his head away but Deipirus would have none of it. Brutally forcing the boy's head back down he smashed him on the side of the head with his free hand.

"Take it in your mouth and suck it filth," he grated.

Deipirus moaned with excitement as he felt the boy's soft lips about his swollen cock. Shifting his grip to Ayas' ears he pulled the boy down' driving his rod deep into his throat. Ayas gagged and whimpered as Deipirus and Otus simultaneously pumped his mouth and bottom. There was nothing of gentleness or affection just brutality and animal lust.

For Ayas it was a moment of terror and despair. Choking on Deipirus's cock, suffering agonies as Otus ravaged his bottom, he knew only pain and hopelessness. After all he had endured this was the end of his dreams of freedom. He was nothing, just an object, a thing to be used and enjoyed by his betters. That was his fate. There was no escape from it. His dreams of freedom, even his more modest hope of finding an indulgent master in the person of Attis were at an end.

The tempo of Otus's thrusting increased. He drove hard and deep into Ayas, lifting the boy into the air with the force of his thrusts, causing the boy's bare feet to scrabble on the floor as he tried to keep his balance. For a moment he was quite still and then his cock surged and he discharged his seed deep inside the boy.

He pulled away his now flaccid cock emerging from Ayas's bottom with an audible plop.

A few seconds later and Deipirus's cum was flooding Ayas' throat and mouth.

Sated Deipirus released his hold of Ayas' ears and the boy sank to his hand and knees on the floor sobbing quietly.

"What a disgusting sight," Otus remarked, "look at the little whore huddled there filth trickling from its hole and all it can do is cry."

"If somebody treated me the way we've just treated him first I'd kill him and then I'd kill myself," Deipirus remarked.

"That's because you're not a slave. Slaves don't think or feel like us," replied Otus. "But he'll be dribbling dirt on the floor from his bottom if we don't watch out.."

"So he will. Ayas you stupid little whore stop making such a fuss and put a hand over your hole to stop it dribbling and get outside and get yourself cleaned up fast now."

"No on second thoughts," Deipirus continued as Ayas was about to scuttle from the room, "before you go get back down on your knees and clean up Master Otus's cock with your mouth and tongue. And keep your hand over your hole while you do it. I don't want anything getting on the floor while you're doing it."

Looking at the naked boy kneeling on the floor at Otus's feet, face pressed into the youth's crutch and watching the vigorous movements of the lad's head as he worked away with his lips and tongue cleaning away the mixture of cum and faeces that coated his penis Deipirus felt quietly satisfied. He had he told himself crushed any incipient spirit of rebellion in the boy and reduced him once again to a proper state of abject obedience.

At last Ayas' head was still. The boy settled back on his heels and looked nervously over his shoulder at his master. Deipirus pushed himself painfully to his feet, for his wounds were still bothering him and walked across to examine his handiwork.

"Not bad at all," he remarked approvingly. "Now get out and clean yourself up and be quick about it. Don't make it an excuse for creeping off somewhere."

"I take it," he said addressing Otus, "that there's a trough or something in the yard were the brat can clean itself?"

"There's a horse trough just by the front door," Otus replied, "he can wash himself there and we'll go along that way once we've got dressed. You can check he's done the job properly and there's something near bye that I think may amuse you."

Ayas fled from the room and found his way down a back stair case and out of a side door into the courtyard.

The trough was situated to one side of the broad flight of stares leading up to the villa's imposing double doors. It was made of marble, its sides decorated with carvings of horses grazing in a meadow. It was an elaborate object obviously designed to enhance the appearance of the main portico and to advertise the cultivation and good taste of the villa's proprietors.

At the foot of the stairs opposite was something that spoke just as eloquently of the tastes of the owners of the estate. A young boy his hands tied behind his back lay face down with his spread ankles chained to a raised pole so that only his chest and face rested on the ground. He had been there for sometime for flies crawled over his naked body and in their search for moisture swarmed about his mouth and only kept from settling on his eyes by his constant blinking.

Ayas found a piece of rag stuck behind the trough and used it to swab the filth from the inside of thighs and the cleft of his bottom. Gingerly he sponged out his hole wincing as the damp cloth touched his soreness where Otus had forced him.

He did not make any attempt to speak to the pinioned boy. There was nothing he could do to help him and he knew that to talk to him was to risk finding himself treated in a similar fashion.

Deipirus and Otus appeared out of the double doors leading into the villa. They began to descend the flight of stairs. Ayas knowing instinctively what was best for him dropped to his knees. The slave boy, hearing the sound of leather shod feet on stone steps began to whimper with fear.

"Look at the snivelling brat," Otus said as the two youths reached the bottom of the stairs.

He touched Deipirus on the arm so that he turned to look at the whimpering boy. They had stopped so that they were standing only a foot or so from where the boy's head rested on the ground

"Well he does looks a pretty miserable specimen," Deipirus drawled. It was obvious that he was not going to allow himself to appear surprised or indeed interested by anything. "What's he done?"

"What's he done?" as he spoke Otus deliberately stamped down, driving his heel between the brat's spread legs into his crutch..

"Oh you mean what's he done to finish up like that." Otussaid raising his voice to be heard above the boy's frantic scream. "I don't know the bailiff's decided he needs a whipping and a whipping he will get. He generally provides a boy for me to flog. He knows I enjoy doing it and it's good for the boys too. There isn't one of them that wouldn't be improved by a good flogging and I think that goes for your precious little Ayas as well."

"This is what I use," Otus continued.

He picked up a scourge from its resting place on top of one of the two low stone pillars supporting the stout cross bar to which the boy's ankles were secured. He held it out for inspection to Deipirus. It consisted of perhaps a dozen thin leather thongs attached to a stout wooden handle. The there was a tight little knot near the end of each thong. The knots were hard to the touch and appeared to be clogged with dried blood.

"My own design," Otus said proudly. "What I found was, with the young ones particularly it was all over too quickly with the horse whip. Three or four good cuts and you've torn the brat's skin and quite likely permanently marked or crippled him or taken his eye out. This little thing makes its point very clearly as you will be able to tell from the slut's howls but allows me to take my time and enjoy myself."

"I'll show you shall I?"

Without waiting for a reply to his question he raised the scourge above his head and brought it hissing down along the line of the boy's crack. The boy jerked and screamed as the tips of the thongs, given extra bite by the tight knots at their tips bit down into the tenderest recesses of his bottom.

He feels it you can see he feels it," Otus crowed triumphantly. "He'll scream even louder with this one,"

He struck again along a similar line but this time somewhat higher up, striking down between the boy's spread legs. The thongs with their cruel knots tore at the boy's hairless balls and nipped the delicate skin immediately behind them.

"I often think I could rip a sluts balls off like that," Otus remarked, "but," he added regretfully, "I haven't yet."

"Ah well there's always a first time," and he struck down again wringing further paroxysms of shrill screams and broken please for mercy from tortured child.

"They're still there," Deipirus said leaning forward to check, "but he's started to bleed."

Ayas noticed there was an edge of excitement in his voice and a conspicuous bulge in the front of his tunic.

"There'll be more blood before I finish with the slut," Otus promised and lashed down twice in quick succession, scoring bloody lines across the inside of the boy's spread thighs.

Otus said nothing more but plied the whip with vigour and enthusiasm. The brat screamed and writhed as the leather thongs nipped and tore at his tender flesh.

The beating was only brought to an end by the appearance of Otus's mother at the door to the villa.

"Otus darling," she said laughing indulgently, "I am sorry to disturb you when you are enjoying yourself so much but supper is ready and I am sure Deipirus is hungry."

"With my husband and two eldest sons away with the army," she remarked over her shoulder to Deipirus as she led the way into the house, "we have to be extremely careful to see the slaves are kept in order. Given the slightest chance the scum will take advantage of us you know but dear Otus is proofing to be a tower of strength in these difficult times. He's such an enthusiastic disciplinarian. You can see how the slaves respect him."

"And I must say," she continued as she seated herself on her couch in the dining room, "I was very pleased to when that brat of yours restored your sword to you. I know there was a good reason for him to be carrying it when you arrived here with you being injured and everything but we are very firm here about slaves not carrying weapons. Even our bailiff, Meriones, is forbidden a sword."

"The brat's name is Ayas, Mother, and Deipirus tells me he held off the wolves that were attacking him with the sword."

"Really," the woman turned on her couch and stared hard at Ayas who was kneeling beside the couch on which Deipirus lay, "how curious…"

"Tell me," she continued as slaves served the first course of dates stuffed with honey, "This message that you are carrying. It must I suppose be of the first importance."

"Our Captain thought it was anyway or he wouldn't have sent me and I suppose if true it is very important."

"You don't know it is true… It seems to me odd to journey from the mountains in the South where I take it you were stationed to the Iron Gates where the army is positioned to deliver a message whose accuracy is in doubt." The lady sounded mildly amused by the ridiculousness of the proceedings.

"But if it is true," Deipirus explained clearly stung by her attitude, "it will be of the first importance. We understand that the Spartans are planning to advance on Thebes over the mountains not through the pass to the North at the Iron Gates."

"You understand but you are not quite sure. What makes you think that then… In the past attacks have always been from the North."

"Well we got it from this boy Ayas. He turned up at our post saying he was a runaway Spartan slave and he'd overheard another Spartan lord explaining it to his master."

"Ayas again," the lady turned to look at the boy again staring at him with cold expressionless eyes, "he is a busy little fellow. Well I suppose I can see why it is important for you to warn the main army of the possibility. If it is true and the Theban army is not warned and stays where it currently is the Spartans could march into Thebes unopposed and that would see the end of Epaminondas and his friends and Sparta would rule all."

"Mind you," she continued, "there are plenty of people among the old Theban families who would think that no bad thing. They that we need discipline and old fashioned virtues and would rather be ruled by the Spartans than the mob."

"I'm sure all of us here are good patriotic Theban citizens Mother," Otus remarked licking honey from his finger tips.

"Of course, of course and if you like Deipirus we'll send Merriones tomorrow morning to carry your message to the army. You, with the way you have been mauled by the wolves, will hardly be in a fit state to travel."

"Thank you but I think I will have to carry the message myself. My Captain gave me the task and told me to take Ayas with me. He thought the boy might be a Spartan plant to lure the army away from its post guarding the Iron Gates and he wanted him to be sure to pay the price if he was."

"Though I," Deipirus added as an after thought, "think he was telling the truth and it won't be necessary to nail him to a cross. At least I hope it isn't for he's not a bad brat – for a slave that is."

He picked up a honey filled fig from his plate and offered it to the kneeling boy, holding the delicacy to Ayas's lips. Ayas felt the humiliation but he didn't want to get himself into trouble ad anyway he was particularly partial to honeyed figs and they did not come his way that often. He opened his mouth and Deipirus slipped the delicacy between his lips.

"Well we'll see how you are in the morning," the lady said equably.

"But I must say," she continued, "I do think it is unfortunate that we are reduced to relying on information from a runaway slave. I do think we should be able to settle our differences with our neighbours without undermining social order. Ideally I think Ayas should be returned to his Xionedes to discipline."

Ayas almost choked on his fig.

The meal dragged on. Course followed course. The wine bowl circulated and both Deipirus and Otus became a little drunk. To Ayas, obliged to kneel quietly beside Deipirus's couch, time seemed to have slowed to a snails pace. He was sure he and for that matter Deipirus, were in desperate danger. But all Deipirus seemed to want to do was to drink and eat and talk and drink a great deal more. Surely Deipirus could see what was so obvious to him but the youth seemed oblivious to everything beyond his immediate surroundings.

At long last the last cup of wine was emptied, the last drunken joke told and Deipirus swung his legs off his couch and got unsteadily to his feet.

"Ayas, Ayas." he swayed as he spoke, "come here whore and help your master upstairs. Come on boy and when we're upstairs I'll have a bit of that," and he landed an open handed smack on Ayas's bare bottom.

Deipirus stumbled two or three times on his way upstairs and it was all Ayas could do to get him to his room. As soon as he was there he collapsed on the couch and reached out for Ayas.

"Come here slut," he said catching hold of the boy by the arm and drawing him to him, "now it's my turn to fuck that sweet little bottom of yours."

"Deipirus listen, please listen," Ayas began.

"Deipirus," the youth shouted furiously, "it's Master to you dirt," and releasing his hold of Ayas's arm the youth punched him hard in the guts.

"Master," Ayas gasped doubled over and holding his stomach, he didn't care what he called Deipirus provided the youth would listen to him, "we're in danger I'm sure of it."

"Nonsense… lovely house… lovely meal… lovely people…"

"How did the lady know I was owned by Xionedes? You didn't tell her. I didn't tell her. How did she know?"

Deipirus sat on the couch his mouth open, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

"Must have told her," he said. "Must have… how else would she have known?"

"She knew because someone else told her. Some one from Sparta. She's part of one of the old families she was talking about who support Sparta."

"Nonsense… she's a lovely lady and you're just trying to make trouble. And anyway her husband and her two older sons are with the Theban army… She said so… That doesn't sound like supporting the Spartans… Now come here or I'll give you to Otus to whip. He'd enjoy doing that."

"She said they were with the army… She didn't say which army… Just before we arrived here we had to ford a stream and I saw in the mud the hoof prints of six horses… six good horses. I didn't think much of it then but now I think that's a detachment of Spartan cavalry. And while you were asleep the bailiff, Merriones, set out on a horse going as fast as he could and heading in the same direction as the six horse men had gone."

"What's all this about… Spartans… Horsemen… Merriones… It doesn't make sense. If the lady is a Spartan supporter and she wants to stop us warning Epimanondas of their plan she could have us killed here without involving any Spartans horsemen or otherwise. She's got enough slaves here to do the job for her."

"None of the slaves have weapons. You heard her say so just now and anyway they won't want to murder you. You are much too important for them to murder."

"Now you are talking rubbish. I'm not the slightest bit important."

"You are Epimanondas's nephew."

"I am not."

"They think you are because I told them you were when we arrived here first of all."

Deipirus stared at Ayas open mouthed.

"I don't believe a word of this nonsense. And you told the lady, the lady who has been so hospitable and kind to us, that I was Epaminondas's nephew. You deliberately misled her. Now I am going to have you flogged. I'll have Otus take your balls off with that little toy of his."

Deipirus threw back his head to shout and then stopped. From the window opening onto the courtyard came the sound of horses' hooves and men's voices.

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