Billy’s first night in the Republic drew to an exhausting close. Bunking with beefy wrestlers wasn’t as sexy in practice as Billy had hoped. It was sweaty, for one. And, while Billy enjoyed men with a little natural musk, it was hard getting used to so many bodies unaccustomed to both deodorant and daily bathing. Despite that, plus being wedged between two other men in a line of uncomfortable, stone ‘beds’, Billy succumbed to Hypnos’s spell.
Breakfast
consisted of an old-school kind of grain porridge that tasted as good as it
looked, which was not very good at all. When nobody was looking, Billy snuck
off to a corner of the guild to discreetly ravage a power bar and slurp down a
juice box. He prayed Bato and Astanyx’s ingenious plan for the evening would
work, otherwise Billy’s snack stockpile was in danger of rapid depletion the
longer he stayed in this era.
Billy spent the morning watching hunky, naked men grunting and rolling around in the sand with each other. Big-hearted Bato offered to re-awaken Billy’s wrestling knowledge, but the modern man’s spirit just wasn’t in it. He was, truthfully, worried that he was now in over his head, fiddling in the lives of people who had died nearly two-thousand years before his birth.
The other men were content to leave Billy to peace, and one of the gruffer brutes among the guild had insinuated that this was because he was under the protection of Sergius Sextus. Billy doubted he would ever see the man again. That was, until, the hairy Adonis appeared at the entrance to the kitchen (Billy had volunteered to make himself useful, and as the ingredients used in meals offerings were sparse and simple, found it easy chore to take up).
Before Billy could blurt out an apology about sleeping with Brennus, the bearded hunk tossed him what appeared to be a giant sheet of grey fabric.
Sergius sniffed. "Put this on," he said.
Billy unfolded the garment and found it to be a somewhat 'grim reaper-like' robe. "What is it?"
"To hide your pretty face as I take you out for fresh air," Sergius, his bulky frame filling the doorway, said. "We need to talk."
Even under the woollen cowl, the smell of the sea perked Billy's nostrils.
Billy hadn't expected to be taken out of the guild by a man who had essentially dumped him there as a burden, and had left on cold terms. If Sergius had wanted to snap his neck, he would done so by now, Billy thought.
Today, the air in the market was fresh, and
the sky bright. Calenum was no Rome, of course, but it was far more than a pit
of sand and an amphitheatre. Along the coast of the rocky Tyrrhenian Sea, the jewel of Campania terminated
in a glittering harbor, where merchant vessels from all over the Republic came
to port to offload wares from shores near and far.
"The whispers in the guild say you and Brennus had a most spirited wrestling match," Sergius said, steering Billy away from a patrol of guardsman.
As much as Billy wanted to explore the stalls and vendors of the market, he knew it was best to keep a low profile. "And if I told you he came on to me?"
Instead of slamming Billy into a stack of amphorae, Sergius laughed. "I'd believe it," he said. "A rumor like that wouldn't have reached me ears so quickly unless it was deliberately started by its subject. Brennus thinks he can exert some sort of control over me by making me jealous, I imagine."
Billy sighed. "Gay men never change."
"In any case, I hold no ill will towards you." Sergius winked. "Even if you and I do not see eye-to-eye on the nature of combat. In any case, I thought we might discover if there are any fleets bound for Rome. I don't think you are safe in this city, and the gods smile favorably on those who assist strangers. I want you somewhere safe."
As much as that warmed Billy's heart, the reality was that nowhere was safe. He didn't need to get to Rome. He needed to get back to 2024.
In any case, Billy felt safe under Serge's protection. The fish mongers and oracles and scholars and laundresses gave the gladiator a wide berth (and not merely because he was larger and wider than the lot of them).
Still, certain whispers were far more generous in their assessments of the man, especially those of the eligible youths. Billy overheard the chatter:
“He’s handsome.”
“Yes, that’s the wrestler who gave up the
sword! He’s quite intimidating, isn’t he?”
“Could you take him in a fight?”
“I’d much rather take him in my bed!”
“Perhaps we could wrestle him down and take
him there together.”
“His lover would cut your throat if you
dared it. I hear he’s scarier.”
“Well, I’ll just have to take him to
bed as well!”
Serge scratched his beard and pretended he hadn’t overheard the miscreant scholars. "It seems I am quite popular. Better the attention on me than you, little one."
Billy sulked. "I'm not that little."
Their destination was the tavern near the wharfs, where local rabble was more likely to pick a fight with him—all in the hopes of raising their esteem in the eyes of their drunken, mariner companions. Serge told Billy he almost preferred it. A good scrap was a fine method of getting one’s blood flowing (or spilled, as it were).
As soon as Sergius approached the tavern, someone cried out his name. It wasn’t an angry cry either, which was unusual—but welcome. Serge whipped his head towards the desperate sound but made sure to keep one hand on his dagger, and the other nudging Billy behind him.
"Let me do the talking," Serge told his ward.
A swarthy, bearded man, wearing the
vestments of a merchant, approached Serge in a state of sweat-soaked
breathlessness. “Praise be to Jove,” the man wheezed. “I knew I’d spotted you, Sergius Sextus.
You do stand out among a crowd.”
Serge removed his hand from the dagger at
once, instead placing it over his heart, a respectful greeting. “Oh, good
Claudius!” He raised an eyebrow at the normally dignified man’s state. “Hitting the wine a little early,
are you?”
The good fellow shook his head. Behind him, Billy noted a few straggling mariners, and even a member of the guardsmen out on patrol—all of whom appeared shaken and upset.
“I come to you as cold and sober as the
Stygian Sea,” Claudius said, once he’d caught his breath. “Sergius, strong of
physique and heart. Brennus, our Celtic brother-in-arms, has been captured by King
Mido’s brigands.”
Billy placed his hand over his mouth to keep from gasping and drawing attention to his presence.
Strangest of all, Serge looked relieved. "Captured," he said. "Captured means 'alive'." He stepped forward, tempted
to grab the gentleman by the scruff of his toga and ring the truth out of
him—but there was no need. “When did this happen?!”
Not but several minutes before Serge arrived,
Claudius said. In addition to Bren, Phryxia, a keeper of cups and a kindly
sort, as well as one of the bordello’s handsome lotharios, had likewise been
netted and dragged swiftly to the pirate’s vessel. The make of the ship, as
well as the armor of the fiends, was known to the tavern-goers—who identified
the scoundrels before they set sail.
Claudius guided Serge and Billy down towards the
docks. “The Midoans are no friends to the Praetor, who has already threatened their
mad king previously with invasion for vexing our ships. It seems the unruly
sort have a penchant for kidnapping young men and women along the Republic’s
coastal communes, but for what purpose? Regardless, Calenum needs no excuse to
unleash our fleets onto Midoan shores.”
Sergius looked to Billy, doing his best to keep himself strong. He nodded. Billy didn't know what that meant, but his heart must have, because he felt it sink into his stomach. This wasn't good.
“If others would deign to join the hunt," Sergius said to his friend, "then so be it. As it were, I've already raised any army."
Claudius blinked. “What? Where?”
Stiffening his back, Sergius rose like a lion on his haunches over the longshoremen and the dockside riffraff. “It stands before you in the form of a man. I would venture to the depths of Pluto’s Manse to rescue Bren.”
Under his breath, Billy whispered, "Damn it."
Seemingly without fear of wait lay ahead, Serge’s eyes fixed to the waves across the beckoning horizon. “Now, Claudius, I will need you to grant me swift passage on a fitting vessel.” The gladiator nodded to Billy. "My servant here and I must make bounds for Mido at once!"
Billy looked into Serge's face. "Are you kidding?"
"I never jest," Serge said back, giving Billy a friendly pec bounce. "Come, adventurer, let us test your mettle!"
