Nasir watched the last of the rebels depart. Crixus and Naevia went ahead and Spartacus took up the rear guard, Donar at his side.
The leader turned toward the small dark man, pity in his eyes. "See them to health and return," Spartacus bid.
"I will," Nasir replied, "the rebellion shall not lose them."
Spartacus gave Nasir a small smile and turned away.
Nasir watched them depart, his heart heavy. He turned toward the remnants of their camp. Two tents stood alone, with a small pile of supplies. Nasir ducked is head into the tent where Nemetes shared with a man who continued to cry tears of blood. Nemetes groaned when Nasir crouched down beside him.
"I brought you water," Nasir said, setting a cup beside the man.
"I would do better with Opium," he groaned.
"We are absent opium," Nasir replied, "and have been warned that herbs worsen illness."
"Fuck you little man," Nemetes said, rolling on his side, away from Nasir.
Nasir let the name slide, as the man did not seem up for the fight. He rose and turned toward the other side of the tent. Libitus lay shaking on the ground before him. Blood ran from the man's nails and eyes. He moaned as the light from the flap fell over his face.
Nasir bent and lay a cup of water beside the man. "I shall bring food soon. I am near and shall hear if you have need to call upon me."
The man groaned in recognition and Nasir exited the tent. He made his way toward his tent, where Agron lay. He pulled back the flap to enter but Agron protested.
"Stay outside," Agron growled.
"Why?" Nasir asked, disregarding Agron's protest, remaining in the tent's opening.
"Nasir," Agron moaned, rolling away from the open flap, "leave me in peace."
Nasir paused, but he did move. "Agron?" he asked quietly.
Agron groaned and rolled toward Nasir, opening bleary eyes and saw the hurt on his beloved's face.
"Apologies," Agron said quietly, "I would not have you fall ill."
The hurt on Nasir's face dissolved and he moved to Agron's side, though the man stiffened.
"Last night we shared most intimate embrace," Nasir pointed out gently, "opportunity to avoid illness has already past."
"There stands chance you might not fall ill," Agron said, running his hand up Nasir's thigh, "I would increase chance."
"You will survive illness," Nasir said, stretching out along Agron's body, encouraging the gladiator to recline head upon his chest. "Should I fall ill, I shall survive as well."
Nasir gently massaged Agron's temples. The gladiator hummed contently and drifted off to a fitful sleep. "And should you go to the afterlife," Nasir whispered to the sleeping man, "I would follow shortly."
Nasir spent much of the day seeing that Agron and the others rested, drank their fill of water, and ate fruit and bread.
It was but an hour till dusk, when he had returned to Agron's side that he heard Nemetes call his name. He kissed his sleeping gladiator's fevered brow, grabbed his sword, and made the short distance to the other tent. When he pulled back the flap he was assaulted by the smell of shit and piss.
Nemetes groaned as the light fell upon him. "Libitus is dead," the stricken man said, reaching out a hand, asking for Nasir's help to stand. The smaller Syrian helped the man to his feet, and helped him carry his mat out into the open air.
"I would see him buried presently," Nasir said, making for the tent, dragging the body, mat and all toward the edge of the encampment.
"Agron and myself will follow him to the afterlife," Nemetes said as Nasir struggled past. Nasir stopped and stared at the German. "Speak not such words," Nasir said harshly.
Nemetes grunted a laugh. "You hold his heart little man," Nemetes said, "Do not break it by dying in foolish errand. Return to Spartacus. See yourself to safety."
"Fever makes words mad," Nasir snapped, "I have cleaned tent, return to it."
Nasir once again gathered his burden and continued to drag the body toward an opening between two smaller trees, hoping that the roots would be less thick, and grave easier to dig. The rebels had sagely left him a shovel.
The sun set as he threw the first scoop of earth over his shoulder. He set himself to the task, striking the fear he held for his beloved from mind when he heard the howling.
When the large band of rebels were together, the wild dogs feared approaching. But, absent numbers, they circled closer to camp. Nasir knew he should have lit fire before sun fell, but if he abandoned task presently, every hound in the wood would be attracted to the smell of rotting flesh. He returned to task, setting to purpose with the fear of rabid beast on mind.
He had only dug two feet into the earth when he heard a growl close by. He looked up to see the grey eyes of a beast, but three feet from where he stood. He reached for a rock, flinging it viciously at the beast, who backed away, only to be replaced by another.
"Jupiter's cock," Nasir swore.
Within the span of a minute he was surrounded by wild dogs, hackles up, growling their wicked intentions. He almost chuckled to think that all used to call him such. He did not see himself as fierce as the beasts that circled him.
Nasir hissed at the leader of the pack, staring it straight in the eye, pulling out his sword. He would not be able to stop them. His only thought was that Agron would think that he had had abandoned him.