The other men held him down tightly as Segovax writhed and begged in vain for mercy from his master. The petite man looming above him looked at him with disgust. Batiatus seemed large and powerful to Segovax strapped to a slab and lain out, naked and exposed like a lamb skinned for a roast.
"Mercy is a thing of enormous value, Segovax; you purchase it with answers. What possessed you to lay hands upon a man who bore you no ill will, the fucking Champion of my ludus?" When Segovax did not speak, his Dominus motioned for Rhaskos to tighten his grip at the base of Segovax's cock. "You try my patience." The pain from the beating at Crixus' hand and Rhaskos' painful grip granted him moments of maddening clarity and Segovax noticed a figure standing in the doorway. "Speak, you fucking Celt! Speak and your miserable life may be spared."
Lucretia entered the ludus to aid her husband just as Crixus swooned suddenly. She caught him without thinking and quickly helped him to a bench. The injured Gaul looked at her with a cautioning eye. "Naevia, tend to him." She ordered and joined her husband. Segovax could see Naevia kneel in front of Crixus and pretend to check his wounds as he cleverly slipped his hand up her thigh. For a moment, he thought he saw a flash of thick red hair out of the corner of his eye. Nothing there.
"Spartacus! How fares our Champion?" Batiatus motioned to Spartacus and Medicus as the Thracian walked to his Dominus' side with a steady gait. Segovax marveled at the fact that, aside from slight bruising at his neck, Spartacus stood tall and strong, seemingly unaffected by his attack. Piss and shit, he thought, almost amused at how fortunes turn. He stood on the brink of destruction and those cock eaters Duro and Agron will soon bear the mark. And have a chance to earn their freedom.
"I am unharmed. Medicus' time would be better spent tending to the brother who came to my aid." A couple of the gladiators patted Spartacus' back and others hooted Crixus' name. A brotherhood that would have been mine. Segovax thought he saw a glint of pity in the man's eye and he mumbled a prayer under his bated breath, asking for a miracle. "What is this man's fate, Dominus?"
Batiatus' hateful gaze bore holes into Segovax; he knew the prayer to his Celtic Gods was of no use. "His punishment will be determined by his cooperation. Glaber's wife as his Domina, his cause is rather obvious." Spartacus' eyes momentarily glowed with anger at the name. The hatred is mutual, he thought, suddenly understanding he was drawn into a conflict far larger than he imagined. Earlier this evening, he thought, I could have everything I wanted, if patience was employed. His heart ached; I will never see her again. "I would hear this shit-eater admit to the crime and take her name."
Honor. The word seemed so hollow now, so foreign. No longer a word but a collection of obscure symbols, idle etchings on faded walls. Segovax struggled to find his voice and reveal his Domina's vicious plot against the Thracian. But something still held him back and his parted lips closed.
"Quintus, he has chosen his fate." Lucretia spoke with a groan, looking at her husband with an impatient arched brow. She turned to leave, indifferent.
"Very well then. Rhaskos." Batiatus looked once more at Segovax, looked at the plea in the man's eye. He glanced over the man's powerful form and clucked his tongue. "What a fucking waste."
Rhaskos smiled at Segovax, enjoying the moment. "Hold your breath, you worthless shit. It may help with the pain." He gripped Segovax's cock harder as a guard approached, dagger drawn. "But not by much!"
The last voice Segovax heard before falling into the numb darkness belonged to Ashur.
"Rhaskos! You may need to use both hands."