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"He loved me. How could he do this thing?"

Cassius looked at the distraught youth and had no answer. They had all known that Barca had plans to buy freedom for both of them, yet he was gone, walking out of the villa leaving Pietros behind. He did not know what to say to him, how to comfort him. He had the desire. This youth, a little older than himself had been kind, had befriend and helped him as much as he could.

They sat quietly in the cell that the darker skinned boy had shared with his lover, the only noise the cooing of the pigeons that the man had kept, Cassius did not know why.

"Gnaeus will come for me now too. I've seen the way he looks at me." Pietros dropped his head, brushing tears from his eyes. Cassius could say nothing against the thought. He knew that it was true and also just what would happen. The man had left him untouched since he had been sleeping in the champion's room, as had most of the others. There was still a couple who took him by force if he found himself caught. There was Vibius too. He never took by force, he asked by nothing more than the raising of an open palm. Cassius had placed his hand in that palm fearing the day, or night, that Spartacus bared him entry.

Pietros was young and good looking, he was vulnerable now. That bastard would come.

"Perhaps Sabinus and I should sleep here with you. Certain three of us could keep one brute from the door?" He thought it true but if not, if nothing else he could keep Sabinus furthest from harm, placing himself or Pietros in the way. The thought immediately made him feel cruel but still he could not afford to spare another if it meant allowing harm to his brother.

To this day that was all he cared for. If not for the beautiful gentle soul that his younger sibling contained, that needed his protection even more now that Aurlus had bled on the sands, he would have taken that step form the cliff edge long before this. If he had to sacrifice himself or this other then he had no choice at all. Especially now that his brother had given him such comfort, such delight. He could not lose him, could not see him hurt. Not again.

Hopefully it would not come to that. He had begged Spartacus this very day, if he would do no more for him than he already had, would he protect Sabinus? The man had looked at him with all patience gone but this evening, as soon as practice was over, he had walked into the cook house to place a hand possessively on the back of Sabinus' neck. Doing nothing more than standing there looking every man that looked at them in the eye, a look of intent on his face, he made it clear. This boy is mine. Cassius prayed that it was enough to keep the wolves at bay even for a little while.

"Would you? Gratitude for your company."

Cassius felt like crap, the look on Pietros' face, so hopeful, so thankful. Once more Cassius felt the bile of hatred, this time at himself.

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"You would not lift finger in aide of me! Oh, what that Bastard did to me! But for Pietros, you throw him from the fucking cliff?" All the pent up anger, all the hurt and humiliation that he had had to endure and this bastard had not cared, but a couple of black eyes on the other boy and he had risked the wrath of Dominus and killed the author of Cassius' misery.

He did then what he had tried to do before, he fought, he lashed out at the man who just stood there with a look on his face that Cassius took to be mockery. He thought perhaps in the instant of pain that he had broken his own hand as he landed the punch to the man's jaw, knocking his head to the side.

Spartacus staggered under the unexpected and surprisingly hard blow. Then he was being attacked, fists landing across his stomach and a jab into his solar plexus robbing the breath from him. A moment of satisfaction as he realised that the boy had learnt his lessons well then he stood guarding his head as he let Cassius abuse him, the blows becoming more random, less focused or harsh as the boy lost the anger and began to cry, his tears of anguish, rage and hurt all erupting as he vented his frustrations and fears and Spartacus let him.

The boy was right, he had done almost nought to protect him even after he had pleaded with him, but this boy was strong. He was still stood here, after all that he had endured, he was still on his feet. Pietros had been weak, unable to endure. He had done nothing to save him either and as he had seen that limp form hanging there, it had caused such a fire of self hatred that he could have done something, even a word at the right time, to have prevented the boy's death and had done nothing.

He had thought of nothing then but to avenge that death. It was too little too late but it was done now.

The youth Cassius was stood, the fight gone from him, his bruised and bloody hands dangling by his sides and his head drooped looking like he could willingly and probably was going to die on the spot for what he had just done. Spartacus grabbed at the back of his neck and pulled him close.

Cassius found himself held by fiercely strong arms as his head was pulled to the side and the man spoke right into his ear. "You are strong. You fight, fight everyday to survive and do! Pietros was not strong as you. He could not triumph as you do!"

Cassius laughed bitterly against the man's neck. What triumph was there in continuously having your body wrent apart night after night by one cock or another. Having a different or the same cock shoved into your throat over and over again, something no free Roman would ever countenance, the practice abhorrent to a society that prized oration above all? The society he had been raised in?

"I have done as you asked. I claimed Sabinus as my own though do not want him. I can do no more for you." He pushed the boy away, to hold him at arms length by his shoulders. "Gnaeus is gone. Stick close to Vibius, you know he grows to care for you. And fight. Keep fighting to stay alive. It is all any of us can do."

Spartacus stepped back watching the hunched youth, wondering if his words made any residence in him. "Now go to Medicus and seek relief for your wounded knuckles." He lifted the boys hands, looking at the bruised and burst skin wondering what his face looked like that it had wreak such havoc on them.

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T.B.C...

A/N... the bit about oral sex being abhhorent to Roman society. Only prostitutes would perform this act. Learnt from the BBC 'History of Pornography' program. Come now, no blushes, we all read this stuff. (Laughing.) I took it in this story that slaves did not count being considered less than paid prostitutes.

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