At the start of the journey to the wall, Esca was sure that, for all of Marcus' enthusiasm as they left the villa, his uncle and all of Rome's pompous politicians behind, he was soon going to realise how stupid this whole thing was and back down before it was too late.

Like the old man had said "Eagle lost, honour lost, honour lost, all lost".

He should really focus on starting a new life, not chasing after ghosts, Esca thought, as they rode.

Yet, as they pushed forward, the stubborn Roman's resolution seemed to only increase a little more each step they took.

Esca saw Marcus draw strength from praying to his strange god with the Frisian hat.

Esca saw Marcus smile, when they rested in secluded areas under the cover of darkness, even though his leg was sore and there was no damn Roman bath for miles.

And he heard him talking more, so much more than he had ever done before, during their year together in the villa, waiting for his wounds to heal.

He talked to him about expeditions he had been in, he told him about the long marches and about how big and wild the world was. How full of wonders and diversity.

Sometimes he quietened down a little, almost as if he were expecting Esca to chime in, to tell him something about his life experience, maybe something about the Brigantes, maybe something about what to expect north of the wall.

But Esca never replied. Esca never told him that he didn't care much for how wild the world was, not when his mother land had plenty of wonders to explore. He never told him that when you have no options, dreaming is a dangerous business, it can only bring you further down into darkness or lead you to insanity.

But it was nice to hear the stories.

It was nice to hear someone still enthusiastic about life.

For as much as Esca tried to fight it, it was drawing him in, like a moth to the fire.

More, tell me more.

Tell me everything, his heart sometimes seemed to whisper.

At times, he felt like he could open more with Marcus, that he could tell him about his memories of the hunts with his brothers, of the village festivals, or the first time that he had taken another man for a lover and...

But he always stopped himself from filling that silence.

So, Marcus kept on talking and talking, as if a massive weight had been taken away from his chest the moment they had gone out of the villa.

You see Rome, even your own son is better when he is far away from you, he thought, as he finally let himself fall asleep, as tried not to think of the strange thoughts whirling inside his head.

Marcus was better.

Freedom and the power of a new lease on life looked very good on him.

And those strange thoughts, thoughts about how his Roman was different, how his Roman was objectively attractive, kept on tormenting him, as he looked away from his fool of a master and instead tried to focus on hunting for their dinner.

It had taken a little bit of perseverance to convince Marcus to stay put and rest his damned leg, but he had done it, leaving him behind.

For the first time in forever, Esca ran in the forest.

Enjoying being alone, for once.

Enjoying the movements of his own body without being always, constantly watched.

Enjoying the thrill of being free, even if for an illusionary moment.

But, north of the wall, you could be free, a treacherous thought appeared in his head, as he quietly moved forward, once he had spotted two, plump looking rabbits.

You could slit his throat, just like that old fool had said.

That's what they expect of you, don't they? You are a Barbarian, behave yourself like a Barbarian and free yourself of the yoke of their domination.

That's what they expect, make them happy, confirm their distorted world views and you make yourself free.

His heart raced in his chest, as fast as that of the rabbits as they chased what was left of their lives.

Yes, I could be free. I could give my life to the northern tribes. It would be like going home. They could make use of skills, and of my knowledge of Roman customs and…

Use.

They could use him. Marcus said that he could use his skills.

Damn you all, he thought, as the rabbits died.

Was he ever going to be free?

And, in that very moment, his father's words came back to him loud and clear, the promise that it didn't matter who he would be bound by honour to serve, he will honour that connection because it was the right thing to do.

He bit his lower lip to prevent himself from growling like a feral beast.

Why, of all people, did it have to be a Roman?

Why did Marcus save his life?

One day he was going to ask him again, why he had done it.

There was going to be other days.

Because he was not going to go against a promise to his father.

He walked back, taking a far longer route that he needed to, hoping to calm himself down a little.

The wall wasn't too far away now. Soon, he was going to need all his wits about himself.
He had a plan in mind, a plan to protect Marcus and protect the free Britons from the rage of a broken centurion.

The question was if Marcus was smart enough to see through the deception.

No, he probably was not going to see through it, Esca thought when, as Marcus spotted him approaching, the Roman smiled at him.

I have told you, I hate you. I hate Rome and all you stand for.
And you still smile at me.
You are a very stupid, stupid man.

And I am ready to die to protect you.

'Thank you, Esca' he said, as he took the rabbits.

Marcus took Esca's hand and squeezed it for a moment, perhaps a little gesture of thank you.

Esca took his hand back as quickly as he could, the shock of the contact almost painful on his skin.

If Marcus noticed his reaction, he didn't say.

The damn fool just smiled once more before setting himself to prepare the rabbits for dinner.

Esca let himself sit down for a moment.

If he is a damn fool, you are a stupid fool. Calm yourself down.
He barely touched your hand.
And he is Roman.

Yes. But he is kind.
And, for the love of all the gods, it has been so long and...

When he could finally trust his heart and his voice again, Esca said:

'You are the strangest master I have ever had'

But regretted it immediately.

There we go, he thought, the moment he could relax his guard a little, the emotions came pouring out again.

'How so?' Marcus said, still smiling as he moved to prepare the rabbits.

Esca didn't reply for a moment, marvelling at how his master hadn't insisted on him doing that dirty work. He had been called to do it for the boar they had hunted, he had been called to it many other times.

But the villa was far away.

And Marcus seemed to enjoy doing something, anything, that wasn't rotting away with the rest of the old men.

Stupid, of course, during his time in the army he surely has had to do stuff like this, and more.

'You keep on spending so much time thanking a slave'

Marcus, for a moment, was completely silent.

Esca watched his deft hands move on their food, rapidly, they knew exactly what needed to be done.

His strong hands.

Esca saw Marcus swallow. The Roman kept his eyes fixed on the fire before finally saying:

'It's the proper thing to do. Jobs well done need to be recognised and appreciated'

Esca laughed.

'Did I say something funny?' Marcus asked, finally turning to look at Esca.

'You just gave me even more proof that you are indeed the strangest master I have ever had'

'How so?'

Gods, was he really that blind to the reality of their relationship?

Or had it perhaps been a very, very long time for Marcus too?
Now that he thought about it, nobody had ever come to the villa to visit him.

Not a friend.

Not a lover.

Whatever, not your problem, Esca thought.
He brought his mind to his previous masters. To the whip. To the scars on his back. To the pain that never let him sleep peacefully again.

'Nobody ever thanks a slave for a job well done. But everybody punishes a slave for a poorly made job' he stated, hoping that Marcus could finally open his eyes.

'Esca. You' Marcus had turned once again to the fire.

In the dim light it made through the darkness of the night, Esca saw his master's resolution falter.

He saw him standing on the edge of what it was to be a proper Roman.

And what it was to be the decent human being that Esca was, somehow, coming to think he was.

'You must know I don't think of you like that' Marcus then said, his eyes still eluding Esca's. All his muscles seemed stiffer, as he talked in that strange, hoarse voice.

Esca didn't allow himself to think that, perhaps, deep down, he had come to think of Marcus as a friend too.

Because it just wasn't possible.

'But Rome does' Esca hissed, closing himself off to those stupid, useless thoughts.

They ate the rest of their dinner in silence, before taking turns to watch over each other during the night.

Friends.

Could it be?

Rome, goddess of treachery, please stop tormenting me.

This can't be.

Not in the shadow of the wall.

They arrive at the wall the day after and, amongst the jeers of the legionaries posted there, the doors opened and, together, they took their first steps in the world at the end of the world.