"What the fuck was that?" Agron awoke from a deep slumber, Nasir wrapped tightly in his arms. Nasir, too, had been awoken by the thunderous sound that shook the very earth below him. The thick, sweet scent of smoke was heavy in the air. Agron stood, leaving their tent to examine what was going on. Laeta and Sybil emerged from their tent as well.
"Hurry, find Elianus and Fabius I fear the worst and would have the two boys at my side. When task is complete, see to the rest of the camp. Prepare to move quickly. Wake all who remain in slumber. We may have to fight or flee." The two women rushed off into the darkness, their eyes beginning to water because of the ever thickening smoke.
"Nasir!" Agron called, panic and excitement beginning to rise in his voice. He had begun to think that he would never see battle again. He had felt himself beginning to soften into a new man, one with whom he was not familiar. Now that battle was again potentially upon the horizon, he felt the familiar rush through his veins. Agron's heart began to pound, his limbs pulsing with energy. But regardless of how ready to fight he was, Agron needed his lover by his side.
Nasir emerged from the tent, carrying his spear and the trident that Agron had grown accustomed to wielding. Tossing the trident to Agron, Nasir scanned the scene for any clues as to what might be going on. "Have you any knowledge of what is happening?"
"None. There clearly seems to be a fire nearby but I wait for Elianus and Fabius in order to explore. I fear that Rome and Crassus may have found us."
"What evidence do you have to suggest that this is Rome?"
"None, save for a feeling. The night before my brother and I were captured, similar events took place. They may not be here for us, but my heart holds no doubt that Rome is upon us." Agron looked gravely at the shorter man. They gripped one another by the forearm, Agron lowering his forehead to press it against Nasir's as they steeled themselves for what was to come. They did not break apart until the hurried footsteps of the young boys broke the silence. The air had become so thick with smoke that they could not breathe without needing to cough, forcing the four men to cover their noses and mouths with pieces of cloth.
"Come! To the river, noise and fire come from there." The four men ran through the forest, Elianus and Fabius stumbling over vines and roots, while Agron and Nasir traveled expertly. Within moments they had arrived at the shores of the river. Abruptly, they all stopped, forced to stare at the grizzly sight in front of them. Flames roared on the other side of the river, the trees all ablaze in light. The heat from the fire assaulted their faces, forcing them all to squint to see through the even thicker smoke. But even through the smoke they could see figures running toward the river, splashing in. There was no doubt in any of their minds that those were people, many of whom were on fire.
"What could have done this?" Nasir choked out the words.
"It matters not. Those people across the river. We must lend aid if possible. Come let us fetch the raft." Agron spoke with purpose through gritted teeth. It appeared as if the smoke was not affecting him. If anything, Agron seemed more alive now than he had in weeks. He was practically glowing, the fire across the river was formidable, but the fire within Agron seemed to capture the glow of the sun itself. Nasir could not help but beam, despite the horrible circumstances around them. The man standing in front of him was not the same man he fell in love with, nor the same man that had returned to him from the cross, nor even the same man he went to bed with earlier that night. The man before him reminded Nasir of Spartacus, the icy calm just before battle that only barely managed to contain the fire raging inside. Nasir could not believe that he had doubted his lover's ability to lead their people in the wake of Spartacus. He realized that all it took was the prospect of a peaceful life of love, raising the children of his brothers, and then that potentially being ripped away.
"Wait. There, down the river. A ship. They could lend aid." Elianus spoke with excitement, gesturing down the river toward a dark silhouette on the river.
"Give pause. They might yet lend aid of their own accord." Agron reached out and laid his hand upon the young boy's shoulder, looking onward toward the ship. They waited a few long moments, bodies frozen with anticipation but humming with excitement. The cries of the people across the river as they hurled themselves into the river cause each of the men to clench their jaws and fists. Suddenly, amidst the cries of the people, the cracking of the trees on fire, the roar of the wind, the unmistakable whoosh of a catapult rang through the air. Through the smoke, a glowing orb flew from the ship in the distance and arced through the night, over the river and into the trees on the same side of the river the men were standing upon.
"Fucking Romans." Agron let out an enraged roar. "Nasir, Fabius, get to the camp. Warn everyone. We must move, and quickly. Get everyone into the river. We will move North and attempt to cross another day. Elianus, come with me. We will fetch raft and attempt to take the ship."
"Agron, have you lost fucking mind? You and the boy cannot possibly take a Roman ship by yourselves. I have not come this far to lose you because you think your cock is bigger than Jupiter's."
Agron strode up to the shorter man and clasped the back of his head, pulling him closer, grinning. "Nasir. Have faith. I have returned to you from the dead and plan to do so again. Now go. And protect Laeta and Sibyl above all else." Agron leaned forward planting a swift kiss on his lover's dark lips, pulling him into an embrace. "Go."
Nasir and Fabius took off into the woods running back toward the camp, while Agron and Elianus ran further down the bank to where the raft had been tied to a set of trees. "Elianus, you will stay on the raft while I take the ship. If I cannot kill them all, I will jump into the river and swim to the raft. Be ready to take off."
"Sir, you intend to take a ship of Romans by yourself? With only that trident?"
"That is exactly what I intend to do."
"Apologies, but maybe Nasir was correct in stating that you have indeed lost fucking mind." Agron grinned as they finished untying the raft and hoisted it, walking toward the river. "Elianus, you must know that one cannot fucking lose what one did not have." The large man chuckled hardily as they set the raft down onto the water and climbed on. There was no real need to steer or push given that the current carried them directly toward the ship, which was already launching another ball of fire into the woods.
"Do you believe that they search for us?"
"I do not know, Elianus. I doubt it. Romans seek to burn the world, to build their cities on the ashes. This could simply be the beginning of a battle between Rome and a local tribe. But, there is always the chance that they could have discovered us and this really is our welcoming party." As they reached the ship Agron stuck the butt of his trident out, easing their way down the side of the ship, searching for a way up onto the deck. The cold waves of the Rhine sloshed up onto the wood of their raft as the two vessels eased past one another, the Roman ship dwarfing the tiny raft. Within moments, Agron found what he was searching for, a mooring line that was left to hang over the side of the ship. It was moments like this he wished that he could still wield a sword, since a trident was much more difficult to sheathe. Agron reached out and twisted the rope around his right forearm, passing it through his hand, gripping his trident in his left.
"Jupiter's cock this is going to be awful." Agron laid back, letting all of his weight pull into the rope, his massive shoulder beginning to strain, the course fibers of the rope cutting into his skin. Agron pulled tightly and hoisted himself as he pulled his feet into the air, letting them come slamming against the hull of the ship. He now hung, arm extended into the air, almost as if he were sitting facing the stars. The tension in his shoulder was all too familiar, bringing back the memory of hanging on the cross. At least he was in control this time. One foot in front of the other, Agron worked his way up the side of the ship, using his trident to counterbalance the rope, allowing him to reach further up the rope and continue his progress. By the time he reached the side of the ship, his entire body was screaming in agony, his forearm had been rubbed raw and his legs shook with exertion. His shoulder, most of all, felt as if it were being weighed down by lead. Fortunately, the ship was not one of the large slaver ships, but rather a smaller river vessel, with walls only about two or three times his own height. Had the ship been much larger, Agron was convinced he would not have made it.
Upon his arrival on the deck, Agron saw that there were shockingly few men aboard. Only enough, it seemed, to man the catapult and steer the ship. The rest must have gone ashore. Agron was unsure how it was possible, maybe because of the thick smoke or maybe because of the cries of those burning on the shores of the river, but somehow his ascension and eventual toppling over the side of the ship went unnoticed by the Romans. Agron did not have time to regain strength nor breath, nor would he have been able to if time were ample, given that the air singed his lungs as he inhaled. This needed to end, and quickly.
Surprising himself, Agron kept quiet and managed to stab a Roman emerging from a nearby door with further ammunition for the catapult before the Roman could sound the alarm. The feeling of his pike puncturing the soft skin of the Roman's throat as the man crumpled to the ground, bloody and lifeless reinvigorated Agron, sending energy through his body, further igniting his passion. Fuck strategy. He let out a battle cry, surprising all of the Romans aboard the ship, and charged, trident lowered. Stabbing and slashing ensued. Agron dropped the three men next to the catapult with ease. They had barely drawn their swords before he had ended their lives. The remaining men aboard the ship managed to encircle him, however, swords drawn.
"Prepare to fucking die Roman shits." Agron smiled, exhilarated by the challenge. Wielding his trident as if he were born with it in his hand, he managed to kill them all. The clash of metal rang through the air, rising above the cries of the Romans on the ship and the Germans on the shores of the Rhine. Only once did one of the Romans manage to land a blow, cutting into Agron's back, a minor wound he barely noticed at the time, but one that would certainly cause Nasir to fuss upon seeing it.
"Fuck the gods, that worked. My cock must truly be bigger than Jupiter's." Agron laughed and shouted to himself, panting, bleeding and sweating. He pounded his fist against his chest in celebration. After gathering himself, Agron ran to the side of the ship and called down for Elianus. The boy responded, but had been carried down river a bit by the current. Agron was no sailor and could not turn the boat around to retrieve the boy. Instead, he tossed a line into the water, encouraging Elianus to grab it and to join him on the ship. After a few attempts of throwing the line and even more effort put toward hoisting the boy aboard, both Agron and Elianus were aboard the ship.
"Tell me you have fucking idea as to how to move this thing."
"I was born a slave, Agron. Of course I do not have fucking idea. But come, I am sure we could reason it. If Roman shits can do it, how difficult can it be?"
Meanwhile, Nasir and Fabius bolted through the dark trees, coughing and sputtering as their lungs choked for clean air. The camp was only a few minutes away and Nasir was certain that everyone would already be prepared to move on. By the time they reached the camp, however, Nasir was horrified to find many of the tents ablaze. People were scattering from the camp into the woods, only to be cut down by Roman soldiers who encircled the small clearing where the tents had been pitched.
"Hurry. Find Sibyl and Laeta. We need to return to Agron. There are too many Romans here to fight." Nasir hissed out his orders to Fabius, clutching his spear. The two grasped forearms and then bolted off into the night. Nasir had barely made it twenty steps before he heard the cries of a baby. Libertus! Spurred on by the cries, the Syrian hurried toward the sound. A few Romans made attempt to stop him, but each fell easily to Nasir's spear. Moments later, Nasir was kneeling on the ground at the bloodied body of Severina. Her spirit was clearly on the shores of the afterlife. Still clutched in her arms, however, was her tiny baby Libertus. The young boy's cries pierced through the night, above the cracking of the fires and moaning of the trees, even above the screams of the people around him. Nasir scooped the boy into his arms and turned to flee the slaughter. As he ran, Libertus clutched under one arm, his spear gripped in his other, Nasir called for Fabius, for Laeta and Sibyl, for Amelius. Despite who his voice called for, Nasir's heart and mind remained focused only on Agron. He HAD to see him again. He had to survive his obscene plan to take over a ship. They had to be reunited to escape to freedom in Germania.
Nasir's heart was pounding and his lungs were on fire. He had made it back into the woods where on the way back to where they left Agron. Pause a moment, Nasir, he thought to himself. Give Fabius a chance to survive. He needs you. Laeta and Sibyl need you. Nasir crouched in the shadows of the trees, trying to coax Libertus into silence, gently rocking him as much as he could, even allowing him to suckle on part of his armor. Nasir's well-trained eyes continued to scan the clearing as he counted in his head. Waiting. As the numbers rose, so did Nasir's anxiety.
His patience was rewarded. Soon, figures of the two women, the old man and the boy burst through the smoke. Their battle cries echoing through the air. From what Nasir could see, there were no Romans. They had made it. Shortly, they were all running down to the river, only to see the Roman ship sailing directly toward them. This was the end. Nasir knew that if they were flanked by the Romans on the ship and the Romans from the clearing, they would not survive. Not that it mattered, since the fact that the ship still moved meant that his heart had perished. Soon they would be reunited in the afterlife, free from the hardship of the world. Free to rejoin their brothers. The band of unlikely warriors prepared to fight for their lives, as the ship moved toward them. Something seemed odd, though.
Nasir was not incredibly familiar with ships, but we was pretty sure that this one moved as if the captain was drunk. It jerked from side to side, the sails never quite catching the wind. In fact, it was a miracle or the effect of sheer will power on the part of the captain that the ship moved at all. The only person who was stubborn enough to move a ship without catching the wind was Agron. He had to be alive. Had he actually commandeered the ship rather than burning it? Nasir let his heart rise, allowing himself the hope that his lover was still alive. The ship was so close now that it seemed as if it was going to slam directly into them. The group on the beach, backed up warily, watching the drunken ship. A voice called down from the deck, "Hey little man, how do you stop this?"