Author's Note:
Well here is my first Digimon fic (Hmm I think...). I've tried to keep all the Digimon members fairly in character while still manufacturing enough angst and thrill for the story to be interesting. This is sort of like an epic; I just started writing and couldn't stop. It's also a spin off of 'Gladiator' with many of the same concepts as the movie, although I have added a lot of my own elements.
Disclaimer:
I do not own 'Digimon' or the movie 'Gladiator'. I do not own any of the Digimon characters as well, only my original ones. I do not own the Empire State Building, an ice-skating rink, or the world's largest ball of yarn either. *Sighs at bad attempt at joke* O well, you get the idea.
So please read ~ review ~ enjoy!
Of Men And Heroes
By Jasmine
Chapter II:
"You are my son, you were born strong. Life makes a person hard, that is not difficult to come by, but sometimes there are a rare few who are born with courage inside them."
The tiny cobblestone pathway was barren of all life except for the few occasional damp morning doves cooing in the spire or a mangy mutt hunting for sewer rats. The dark night sky stretched out in a span of a vast electric star-encrusted horizon and a pallid moon illuminated the dark, although unable to part the blue shadows that skulked across the deep corners of the street. The only person to move along the lane at such an ungodly hour was the brave General Taichi. He walked briskly down the road; his breath coming out in hot ragged turrets.
"Taichi, wait!" shouted a familiar voice and a petite figure shrouded in a black robe stepped out of an alleyway.
The warrior smiled a bit at the sight of this girl and came closer to her. "Hakari, what are you doing out at this hour? A respectable lady should not walk the lane during the dead hours of night," he disciplined.
The girl gave a look of reprimand also and retorted, "And shant an honorable man either, brother! I came out to find you after you did not return home and stop you from doing whatever foolish deed you plan on carrying out tonight."
"It is not a foolish act I do tonight, Hakari, I wish you could that. It is but one of honor," said Taichi, not so much boasting but rather convincing both her... and perhaps himself.
Hakari rolled her moist amber eyes. "O yes what an honorable deed! To go against the corruption of Rome, to fight a battle already lost! Brother, let another do the heroics for a time. Take rest, take rest!" she pleaded wearily.
Taichi lowered his gaze from his sister's hurt expression and replied, "You know I cannot do that. To give up would be to lose my conscience, I must fight for my friends and for father..."
"For father?" hissed Hakari suddenly and bitterly, "Do nothing for that man!" The were savage tears in her throat, tingeing her acidic words with sorrow, "He battled that serpent of corruption until he was killed by it. Our father, our hero, left us alone to fend for ourselves and forgot about us for some will-o-wisp dream of the long past glory of Rome!"
Taichi shook his head of thick dark brown hair and said, "I am sorry... that you see what our father did as a waste. What he did was not selfish; he gave up all his happiness to aid his homeland and his people. If he had to sacrifice his children's happiness as well... Maybe that was cruel but necessary. Given the choice I think I might have had no other option then to do the same."
Hakari's angelic face became slick in the pallor of the moon, a trail of tears along the creamy map of her flesh. "Yes, I know. I see you falling slowly down the same path as father and I want desperately to hold onto you and make you stay... But I can't, can I? Somehow you are already gone..." she whispered to him, frustrated and helpless.
Taichi looked at his saddened sister and suddenly took her in his arms, hugging her tightly to him. He spoke to her in a hushed tone, as her damp check pushed into his shoulder, "Sister, what happens next is already aligned in the night sky. I may fight for the Roman Lion and also be made to leave you. But know this now, if that is true then I will think of only you as I lie in the sun dappled halls of Olympus and never ever will I forget you."
The girl was enveloped in her own grief and overwhelming feeling of despair. Taichi had been like a father figure to her all her life, caring for her even when they were surviving only on the kindness of others, and now to be suddenly threatened with his disappearance... Why it was almost too much for the girl. But Hakari wasn't a weakling and she soon stifled her tears for her brother's sake. Looking up into Taichi's handsome face, she said, "Go now and remember me."
The man stared at his young sister for a moment, the beautiful maid who had grown up before his eyes and had never looked so mature to him until now. Then rising up all his might he stepped back and he sprinted down the dark road. Taichi ran, the faint trace of tears blurring his vision, until he finally came to a small house in the center of the city. Ivy climbed up the wooden pillars and a small candle glimmered in gilded bands across the window. He proceeded to the door and knocked three times.
There was rustling heard on the other side of the door and after a few minutes, a voice hesitantly inquired, "Who is at my thresh hold?"
"It is I, General Taichi. I come as a friend and informer to Koushiro."
There was a movement of locks grating in their bolts and then the door opened to reveal a short red haired Koushiro dressed in a nightgown and slippers. His face was handsome for a scholar, and youthful too, still retaining traces of a boyish spirit. "Sorry for all the extra security measures, Taichi, but I've had to be especially careful lately with all the enemies I seem to be making," the man spoke and then opened his door wider. "Come in friend."
Taichi stepped foreword and entered the warm, inviting room. Koushiro's furniture was plain and simple to look upon yet useful and comfortable, much like Koushiro liked to think of him self as being. The air smelt of aged books and the ruminants of a late night snake, cinnamon clinging to Taichi's nostrils.
The wise speaker of the Senate ushered Taichi to a chair and asked politely, "Sir, can I offer you some hot tea on such a chilling night? I'm afraid I'm all out of Chamomile but I just recently bought a parcel of Jasmine in from the Indies and it's quit delicious."
Taichi shook his head and, as quickly and as courteously as he could muster under the straining situation, replied, "No, I fear we have hardly any time for pleasantries tonight, dear friend."
"O and why is that?" Koushiro spoke, his face giving away his feelings of anxiety, his fiery brow rising.
"I overheard Erasmois speaking with Emperor Yamato at the party and he spoke of his fears that you may be rising up a revolution. The Emperor wasn't particularly worried but I believe Erasmois may try an attempt on your life sometime in the near future, Koushiro."
The red haired man sturdied himself on the arm of his chair and sighed, "I had some idea he might. It was my own fault for speaking at tonight's party... But I could not help myself after watching those royals gorging themselves on roasted boar and swilling back wine when out on the street their 'undesirables' struggled to survive. I found myself unable to ignore the inconsiderate injustices swarming around me anymore. I just... could no longer play blind."
Taichi agreed with Koushiro, nodding his head of thick brunette hair, "Yes, as do I now. I feel myself growing increasingly more eager to show these cowards that not all their subjects are as weak and broken as they believe."
"Then hopefully all of Rome is becoming just as fervent and are preparing themselves for a revolution, eh Taichi?" his friend responded, a rare emotion for these times caught in his voice - hope.
Taichi was less believing yet he spoke to Koushiro, urgency in his deep eyes, "That is why you must flee now. You must stay hidden for a time and then convince the Senate to go against the tyranny which rules the empire. This revolution will need you alive, Koushiro."
The speaker of the Senate rose from his chair and reached over for his warm woolen black cloak. "Alright, I am on my way," he spoke curtly and turned towards the entranceway, placing the robe over himself.
Suddenly there came a knock at the door, heavy and thudding, and a booming voice cried out, "Koushiro, come to the door! I have a message to deliver."
Taichi pulled forth his sword from its sheath, a familiar din of metal slipping across its case echoing across the small room, and then whispered to Koushiro, his tone grave, "Go out the back and escape unnoticed. I will distract the Emperor's blood hounds."
Koushiro nodded and carefully ran to the back way. He opened the door, a small fracture of iridescent moonlight sent free to scatter along the floor, and was halfway out when Taichi suddenly called in a hushed tone, "Koushiro, were can I find you when the time comes?"
The wise Koushiro looked over and replied, "Don't worry, Brave Lion Eye, when the time is ripe I will find you." And then, leaving the rest to fate, he stepped out into the pitch black of the night and gently shut the door.
"Koushiro, you buffoon, open the damn door!" rumbled the man on the other side of the door. A very angry delivery boy at that.
Taichi strided over to the front entranceway and shouted back, "Hold your horses, I'll be there in a moment!"
The General opened the door to see a tall burly man with a bald head standing there, cutting the outline of a gigantic bear. There was a sword at his hip but Taichi doubted he'd use it, he didn't need to, by sheer seize alone he could easily clobber an unsuspecting victim. His face was hidden by the shadows but his small glistening black eyes twinkled and glittered like dark shards of precious stone. Taichi wasted no time, having surprised the man because he had been expecting a helpless and half-awake Koushiro to answer the door when it was obviously not the case, and lashed out with the hilt of his weapon, knocking the giant to the ground with a spurting gash over his left brow.
There were nearly ten men all gathered around Koushiro's house and they all brandished metallic weapons. They were soldiers but the lowest form of them, the greasy ones that did not mind running night 'errands' as long as it got them a few extra coins in their pockets. Taichi at once knew he was outnumbered yet he put up a brave fight as they savagely leaped on him. The man took down four of them, slashing out with his blade and laying them flat, before he was finally beaten to the ground.
"Haul him up!" barreled Holton as he staggered to his feet. He lumbered over to the aching and bleeding Taichi with a smirk playing on his lips. Blood rushed down Holton's cheek from the wound the General had inflicted upon him. "You hit me good with that hilt, huh? I'm bleedin' bloody Underworld eh? Well I'm going to make you wish you hadn't spared the blade on me, boy," he growled cryptically before raising a powerful, thick fist and contacting with Taichi's face.
The world went blank for Taichi, with only hot white stars bursting over and over against his eyelids, before finally it all disappeared in a blur. A vision tramped about his feverish brain and danced above his eyes, mocking him with its sour tale.
~
A man ran down the lane, his pale face a mask of panicked fear. Helios had hair of dark brown and eyes of pale amber; his body was riveted with muscles the likes that only a fighter would have. A spindly boy, about the age of six, ran at his side, his innocent face peering with curiosity down the darkened path. Clutched in the man's warm arms sat a two-year-old girl, her soft brown hair fell about her eyes and her tiny angelic face was wet with tears.
"Father, my legs are getting tired," whined the little boy and he slowed his pace a bit, breathing in deep.
The misfortuned man looked down at his son and replied compassionately, "I know son, but we must all gather our stamina... Pretend for father that you are racing Hakari home for supper, son. You always win those races now don't you, Taichi?"
The boy beamed up with a grin. "Uh hu! I'm the fastest boy in all of Rome, father!" he trumpeted. Then seeming to forget his weariness, Taichi dashed off and soon his father came running up beside him, matching stride.
The man turned his head to glance down the road and saw three military issued steeds galloping in pursuit, appearing to him like ethereal nightriders come to end his life. Hot breath stains billowed from their nostrils and their snorts ruptured the still of the night, rumbling along the buildings. Helios frantically pushed onward and saw up ahead, on the very brink of the city, a bridge covering a slow moving stream. He directed his son over to the wooden bridge and then led him down the slope, beneath the dark covering of the structure. The boy's feet sunk deep into the damp sand, plastering to the soles of his worn leather shoes, as he was pushed his back up against one side of the wooden bridge, hidden by the shadows.
Up above the horses' hooves could be heard clomping overhead and panting with exertion. A soldier's voice echoed across the still night air. "Helios! You coward, come foreword! Come out now or else we will find you and those two brats and beat all three of you to death!" he cried spitefully.
Helios took Hakari out of his arms and placed her into his son's embrace. She reached out with a chubby hand and cried softly, missing her father's touch already, "Dada!"
The man looked softly at his daughter, his eyes teeming with remorse, and took her hand in his. Kissing it gently, he whispered to her, "My beautiful Hakari, stay with your brother and listen to him. My little songbird, how I will miss you..."
"Where are you going father? Why are those men chasing us?" the young Taichi chimed quickly. This appeared to him like one of those adventures his mother would read to him at night before she passed on when he was five, like some tale of a young hero having to flee before his final bout with the evils of the world. He had no doubt this was not an end, his father would grow strong and rise up. Just as all heroes did in the stories, this would have a 'happily ever after'.
Helios turned to his son and hushed him, "I must go away son. Worry not about me and take good care of Hakari and yourself. Know that I will always love you."
Taichi looked scared, for the first time the peril of this situation began to sink into his young mind, he'd be truly and utterly alone. "F- Father, but I am not strong enough to watch over sis and I! I need you, father!" he urgently cried.
The man put a hand on Taichi's shoulder and with his other hand touched his son's young cheek, running his tough work-worn thumb across his supple flesh. "You are my son, you were born strong. Life makes a person hard, that is not difficult to come by, but sometimes there are a rare few who are born with courage inside them. I feel this in you, Taichi. Remember what I once told you, son?" he asked him, gazing down on his son.
Tears were now falling from the boy's brown eyes as he clung to his sister and welcomed his father's kind loving touch. "Yes," he whispered in his childish logic and repeated what he somewhat recalled his father saying to him. "That I am a lion ghost," he responded matter-of-factly but of course the repetition was skewed slightly.
The man nodded in grim approval, a lopsided grin gliding over his face, singeing the darkness a bit. "That is right, Taichi. You have a tough spirit, the spirit of a lion. I can see it in you, the roar of the large cats. Remember that Taichi. Remember you have a lion spirit for the rest of your life. That will give you all the strength you need son." Then Helios kissed his son's forehead and climbed up the embankment.
*
"Calantha there is someone here to see you. Will you receive them?" said a tall, high-cheeked old woman clad in a gray smock and apron. Her peppered hair was tied back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, pulling at the ends of her temples, and her dark eyes gazed at the girl lying back in her bed.
The young woman had long raven black hair that trailed down her back in silky strands and startling blue eyes that gazed out at the world listlessly, fringed by a dusting of long black eyelashes that brushed against the rises of her cheeks. The moonlight descended solemnly over her flesh, as if trying to revive her with its shimmering metallic beauty, and yet she lay there vacant and immovable. She lay in a small bedroom, rosy flower patterned wallpaper adorning the walls and the flitty sent of honeysuckle passing in the air from where it clung to the trellis by her lone window. Calantha wore a thin dusty pink nightgown tied to her with a satin ribbon and a blanket was draped over her limp, weak legs. The girl looked so fragile, like a tiny pale-skinned porcelain doll that at any moment could be cracked by a hard breeze.
The nursemaid shook her head, whispering to herself, "I don't know why I bother to ask, the poor dear won't give me a reply, ever since that dreadful accident." Then she stuck her head out the door and called, "You can come in, sir."
In entered a man with dark brown hair and astonishing emerald eyes, his walking gate uneven as his dead foot fell hard across the floor. "Thank you, ma'am," he responded and offered her a smile of thanks; one the crafty man probably practiced a lot.
Nanny nodded her head and nervously wiped her hands upon her apron. "Yes and don't stay long, you hear? I fear all these visits could tire Calantha dreadfully. You know, she's not a crystal ball or some wandering gypsy, she's but a young girl!" she clucked.
Erasmois replied with a slight nod of his head, "Of course, Mrs. I'll take extra care not to make her too weary and I'll only stay for a few short minutes."
His attempt at charming the old nursemaid only resulted in a wrinkled tight- lipped scowl. The woman 'hmphed' and then was on her way out the door, leaving it slightly ajar so she might listen in if ever Calantha was in need of something.
"Good evening, Calantha. You look just as lovely as ever," Erasmois said with a smile, as was his usual greeting. Yet Calantha remained the same, her face stiff and lifeless. Erasmois coughed and then spoke again, "I'm sure you know why I'm here. You are the only valued Seer in all of Rome, you predictions have never led me astray yet, and I must ask you a question: What will happen if I might seek more power?"
Calantha's blue eyes reflected nothing yet her frost tinted lips opened slightly and words sprouted out like a song in a girl's beautiful voice, "Erasmois, crippled son of the politicians ~ You are sniffing out dominance like a snake ~ To all my heeds I know you will not listen ~ Your life is his to take."
Erasmois furrowed his eyebrows together and smacked his lips together. Again he spoke, yet harshly now, all his good manners melting away like winter's ice, "What are you talking about? Surely you are mistaken, Calantha! Perhaps your head is all befuddled, search again for my future and do not sully it this time!"
The girl began to shake as if a tremor creased over her body and she started to speak once again, this time however her voice was loud and her poetic words were now screamed, tarring from her lungs as if it were a battle cry, "Bring forth the sword ~ The man is twisted with his greed ~ Bring forth the sword! ~ Make his deformed body bleed!" Her words were shouted with such loathing, raucous and gritty.
Erasmois' slick eyes swelled wide and he stood up from the chair, distancing himself from the crazed girl. The nanny dashed in and immediately set about calming the young woman as she shouted to the man over Calantha's tortured shrieks, "Leave now, you dreadful man! Leave the girl to rest!"
Erasmois seemed quite shaken himself and his fingers trembled as he rose up his cloak and was out the door in a flash, dropping only a few coins at the doorpost.
The nursemaid held the girl to her chest and soothingly patted her head. The old woman shushed Calantha, rocking the girl back and forth like a babe. Her eerie eyes were swollen into large discs, luminescent in the dark, and her pale skin was coated in a filmy sweat. Calantha whispered weakly over and over as her nanny held the cold, lifeless girl to her, "In the ground the snake will forever lie ~ You shall bring about triumph, Lion Eye."
*
A big muscular man walked down the aisle dragging behind him an arm that appeared to belong to a motionless Taichi. He wore a soldier's leather tunic and a badge of beaten silver was clasp to one shoulder, signifying his importance. On all sides of the large man, caged in barred prison cells, there were sobs for help and shouts of lewd remarks. Dirty faces pressed out against the frozen bars, mouths brimming with tarnished yellow teeth spitting and cursing at him as he passed.
The man came to stop at the sixth cell and started to retrieve his heavy keys, the metal trinkets rattling away in his pocket.
A man, tiny and gaunt, stood with his face close to the edge and his hands clasped around the bars. He snickered, "Another lively one I see, constable? Another one for you to grope and beat, eh?"
The constable, finally having retrieved his set of iron skull keys, unlocked the dank dungeon cell and gruffly said, "Shut your gob, tiny Hang Nail, or else I shall take my club to your back side."
"O I bet ya'd like that, you black hearted man," smirked the prisoner, his wide brown eyes glittering and his face thick with grim.
The jailer threw the poor beaten man onto the hard stone floor; a slight groan compressed from the man's lungs as he slammed against the ground, and then locked the cell back up again. He took from his belt a ruddy stick and in a flash struck it against the tiny man's bony knuckles that clutched the jail's bars. The prisoner screamed and cursed in pain and the constable laughed perversely, "Aye, I'd enjoy it greatly so you best not give me a reason to bruise ya up." Then the jailer strided off to his desk.
"Aw bloody horseshit! I have to learn to keep my mouth shut," griped the tiny blonde haired man as he sat down upon the floor beside the unconscious man and sucked on his grimy fingers. Then, his throbbing knuckles forgotten for the moment, the tiny prisoner looked over at his cellmate and then poked him with a knobby index finger.
"Ya alive chum?" he asked and was rewarded with no reply. Happily he began to search the man's tunic for any items as he spoke to what he believed to be a corpse, "No? Well then I'm sure you wouldn't mind me lifting off a few trinkets eh? Just between cellmates o' course..."
The man searched and finally found something of value: a thick golden ring with a lion embezzled on it left in his tunic pocket. The prisoner eagerly reached for the ring when suddenly a hand shot up and grabbed him by his weak wrist. "Don't twitch a muscle or I'll snap your hand clear off."
The tiny man looked up in fright to see that Taichi was in fact alive and his brown eyes were storming. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you... I- I just thought..." Hang Nail stammered, trembling uncontrollably.
The strong man let go of the bony wrist and sat up, saying, "Yes I know what you thought. That I was as good as dead and I'm actually very close to it."
The blonde recovered from his fright and released a satisfied sigh at realizing he'd be allowed to keep his hand for at least today. "I can see that. Pardon my frankness, but you look like Hell. Got in a bar fight?" he questioned, rubbing at his wrist.
"No, actually something much worse," Taichi responded mysteriously while flickering his gaze around the prison. It was a typical establishment, grit managed to gather everywhere and there were scarcely any windows except for one way atop the cell, small and barred to allow banded light to stretch along the walls. There was the smell of wet dirt heavy in the air along with the decay, of vegetation or flesh Taichi was not sure, and water trickled somewhere far off, siphoning along the mortar joints running along the stone floor. Vivid green moss clung to corners and it was eerily silent, this was a place were people had given up even the thought of freedom.
"Don't tell me, trouble with the Empire right?" Hang Nail questioned correctly and brought Taichi back from his thoughts.
"How did you know?" the brunette man snapped in alarm. Had it gotten out already that the famed General had been beaten and accused of being a heretic to the Empire?
The scrawny young man leaned up against the wall and piped smugly, "Well I'm a very observant man and I noticed your ring is one given to military officers of high rank."
"What has that got to do with me being an outlaw against the Empire?" Taichi questioned, inspecting the man before him with a suspicious gaze.
This brought a slithering smile to his narrow face and Hang Nail chuckled dryly, parting his lips to reveal rows of stained yellow teeth, one was even capped with silver. "Listen fellow, if you're currently in with the high officials, you're bound to piss 'em off one day or another. They cry spy or conspirator just as quickly as they call a mistress to bed!" he exclaimed wisely.
Taichi softened a bit towards the man and laughed, "I like your style." Then he held out his rough scarred hand and added as warmly as the man could muster, "You can call me Lion Eye."
The tiny man shook Taichi's hand vigorously and replied with a boisterous boom, "And I am known as Hang Nail, the greatest thief and love maker in all of the United Kingdom."
*
"Miss, I'll have another cold ale please," spoke a dark haired young farmer whose dirt-smudged face was littered with freckles. He sat back at the table, bashfully admiring the pretty bar maid, referred by all as Sora.
The woman smiled, an act which appeared to brighten up the entire tiny bar, and nodded her head. Her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair looked sleek in the crackling firelight and her pleasant face glowed with a radiant kindness. "Of course, sir," Sora said and her lovely voice stood out from the loud chatter of the tavern's customers, graceful and warm like an open invitation.
Then the slender female adorned in a peasant's binding pale blue bodice and long white skirt crossed the room and went behind the bar. Customers swelled within the tavern, most were men back from a hard days work in the field and a large amount were secretly here to steal glances at their resident beauty, Sora. A homely woman with a plump belly and blonde frizzy hair, her large swelling mantel covered by a black shawl, was already pouring a mug of amber ale. She handed it to the girl, saying as she did, "There ya go lass. Take this to ya fine gentl'men customer an' then see to tha big-mouthed arse over at th' far table."
Sora lifted her cinnamon eyes just far up enough to view the muscular man dressed in Roman soldier garb and a glimmering sword, with the empire's symbol embezzled on it, dangling at his belt. He was laughing with a few of his loud buddies and then, catching sight of the beautiful Sora, shouted with a weighty bang to the table top, "You, girl! Get yourself over here with a few beers!"
The portly Irish woman looked at Sora with a grimace and sighed, "Wish we never had ta hear head nor tail of these army buffoons... But we got nay a choice, bes' just to serve 'em an then send 'em on t'eir way." Her eyes shown an intense deep blue like the farthest depths of an ocean and her smile was broken, teeth protruding at odd angles from the dry chapped lips that smacked together often. Her face was lined with a few splattering of wrinkles and it sagged from wear but in a certain light you could almost catch sight of the stunning beauty she must have possessed in her prime.
Sora offered up a consoling smile and patted the woman on her sturdy shoulders. "Don't worry about it, Mrs. O'Merril. I can handle this lot of drunken fools," she said, offering up a wink, and then was off to serve her customers.
The bar maid finished giving the drink to the young dark haired man and then bravely approached the soldiers.
"And what can I get for you this evening, gentlemen?" Sora asked with a sarcastic grin, a hand to her hip.
"A Gods-damn pint of ale!" roared the man, his buddies finding this most amusing and setting to howling in response.
The girl's mocking smile remained and she bowed politely, "I'll be back in a moment then, sir."
But before the girl could leave, the man's strong, calloused hand shot out and he clutched Sora's wrist, petting her soft skin with a rough thumb. "Hold on just a second there, girl. Maybe I was a little harsh in yelling, eh? You are awfully pretty, you know that? Certainly fair enough to wake up in bed beside. Perhaps there's something else I would like to get along with my order of beer." the man let his words drift off seductively. His face was handsome with a strong cleft chin and rich hazel eyes, filled with a drunken lust. Hair of light brown adorned his head and his skin was pale like butter cream, one could tell he'd lived his whole life a soldier and would most likely die one.
"If you don't let go, you'll be getting a blackened eye with your order," Sora growled in response and her pretty scarlet eyes narrowing as the pain on her wrist increased.
The man erupted with hearty, spiteful laughter, spittle flying from his mouth. "Didya hear that, fellows? This wench thinks she can outmaneuver a gaggle of soldiers, Rome's finest sons!" The man's chums snickered beside him, giving the girl wanting glances.
"Fine sons the lot of you are," Sora spat, her eyes jagged with hatred, "Making advances on women and bribing shop keepers for all their coin, practically snatching the daily bread off their tables! The only sons you bunch are is of the dogs!"
The soldier's nose flared with anger and his other hand flew out and contacted with Sora's cheek in the flash if an instance, slapping her clear across the face. He saved her no force, putting all his might into it and causing her to snap her head to one side, an ache spreading along her taut cheek. The tavern grew silent, all eyes turning towards the scene, as the man snarled, his temper glowing like fire embers, "Do you dare speak of heresy against the Empire?"
Sora lifted a hand to her hot cheek and her jaw locked together, her crimson eyes ablaze with defiance. The sting still lingered on her skin but she bit back any threatening tears, never would she show such weakness to these scum. She replied wisely and evenly, her crimson eyes turning molten and moist in the firelight, "I know not of nor wish sacrilege against my own homeland. You, sir, are the vandals of Rome! You penetrated Rome with your wrongs and raped it of all its virtue."
The man made a quick movement upwards, knocking his chair to the floor with a clatter. As he did so he wasted no time in grasping downward and pulling forth his gleaming sword, a weapon that echoed the cries of its numerous wrongly slain victims. He pushed the point just inches from Sora's thin swan-like throat and said, "How dare you speak of such filth!"
Mrs. O'Merril waddled from out behind her bar and rushed in between the two conflicting individuals with pudgy arms raised. "Stop righ' there, laddy! You an' your ninnies know ther' ain' any weapons pulled in me tavern," the frizzy haired woman said sternly, wisps of blonde frayed curls framing her face.
The soldier pushed Mrs. O'Merril down onto a chair forcefully, placing his forearm across her shoulder and shoving her into a sitting position, his dark eyes glinting dangerously. "Stay out of my way, old hag, or I'll slice your fat clear off your bones," he growled and Mrs. O'Merril gasped in shock at the gory image. Then the man turned back to Sora and hissed, "See this grand sword I have pointed at that delicate little throat of yours, serving wench? My Father, the Roman Empire, bestowed that to me after I fought for him in battle. He has provided for me when no one else gave a shit and clothed my back when the rain clouds set in. I have sworn my life to my Father, and promised in turn to take the life of anyone who lashed tongue against him. Do you do such a thing now? Must I splatter your pretty red blood upon these tavern walls?"
Sora looked straight into the man's face and felt the sword point dig a little deeper into her throat, causing a tiny trickle of blood to ooze forth and pool in the hollow where her collar bones met. Without hesitation she uttered, "Rome would be shame-faced to have you as his son."
The girl thought herself dead then; her last words had been uttered. The seconds drifted by so slowly, every movement like a ripple shivering in a pool of water. The soldier was about to plunge forth his sword into the woman's windpipe, his face so alive with anger and yet so desensitized of all things associated with death, when abruptly The Boar Tusk Tavern's doors swung open with a hollow bang. Out from the dark cold night stepped a short boy, covered in a large woolen jacket and a hood which hid most of his wind-beaten face, and he shouted urgently, "A swindler just made 'way with five fine army-issued steeds! I tried to stop him but he galloped off, towards Eastbrook! Hurry men, off to the chase!"
Suddenly the tavern was awake with cries of alarm as the inhabitants bolted out the doors in hot pursuit of the horse thief. The soldier who held Sora in her perilous position threw her to the floor and ran out into the night, shouting, "Can't a man trust his ride outside without worry that it will be stolen, post and all, from out under his nose?"
Mrs. O'Merril fell to the floor beside Sora, onto her aged knees, and lifted the girl into her protective arms, petting her head affectionately. She sobbed, "O m' God in Heaven! I've not been so scared since poor Mr. O'Merril fell dead as a boiled cabbage head in m' arms. O my, what a beast those military men are, like a pack of wil' dogs all come out t' feast on the bones of the innocent folks!"
Sora patted the old woman's back and felt a tear form in the corner of her eye. "Aye, I know. But it certainly could have turned out much worse," Sora said and then turned her attention to the boy standing in the doorway. "The only reason it didn't was because of you. I don't know if fiends really made flight with those soldiers' horses or not, but all the same, thank you. Is there anything I can offer you in return for your aid?"
The cloaked figure nodded his hooded head and spoke, his voice cracking as his words escaped from out of a parched throat, "Water..." Then suddenly the boy's legs gave way and he crashed to the ground in a fatigued heap.
Sora and Mrs. O'Merril dashed towards the fallen lad and Sora knelt down, removing the hood from the young man's sweat encrusted face. His dry lips were parted to release short ragged breaths and the dry dirt caked at his boots suggested he'd had had a long walk here. His fiery red hair was plastered to his brow and Sora took his head in her warm lap as Mrs. O'Merril ran to get some water.
*
Closing Notes:
I bet you figured out who the boy who saved Sora is huh? Don't worry though this is still a T/S ficcy. My history knowledge is not that great but I hope I was correct in assuming people from other nations and countries made their home in Rome/the provinces too. O ya and I made Sora a strawberry blonde just because I think it sounds better then orange hair, don't you think?
Well here is my first Digimon fic (Hmm I think...). I've tried to keep all the Digimon members fairly in character while still manufacturing enough angst and thrill for the story to be interesting. This is sort of like an epic; I just started writing and couldn't stop. It's also a spin off of 'Gladiator' with many of the same concepts as the movie, although I have added a lot of my own elements.
Disclaimer:
I do not own 'Digimon' or the movie 'Gladiator'. I do not own any of the Digimon characters as well, only my original ones. I do not own the Empire State Building, an ice-skating rink, or the world's largest ball of yarn either. *Sighs at bad attempt at joke* O well, you get the idea.
So please read ~ review ~ enjoy!
Of Men And Heroes
By Jasmine
Chapter II:
"You are my son, you were born strong. Life makes a person hard, that is not difficult to come by, but sometimes there are a rare few who are born with courage inside them."
The tiny cobblestone pathway was barren of all life except for the few occasional damp morning doves cooing in the spire or a mangy mutt hunting for sewer rats. The dark night sky stretched out in a span of a vast electric star-encrusted horizon and a pallid moon illuminated the dark, although unable to part the blue shadows that skulked across the deep corners of the street. The only person to move along the lane at such an ungodly hour was the brave General Taichi. He walked briskly down the road; his breath coming out in hot ragged turrets.
"Taichi, wait!" shouted a familiar voice and a petite figure shrouded in a black robe stepped out of an alleyway.
The warrior smiled a bit at the sight of this girl and came closer to her. "Hakari, what are you doing out at this hour? A respectable lady should not walk the lane during the dead hours of night," he disciplined.
The girl gave a look of reprimand also and retorted, "And shant an honorable man either, brother! I came out to find you after you did not return home and stop you from doing whatever foolish deed you plan on carrying out tonight."
"It is not a foolish act I do tonight, Hakari, I wish you could that. It is but one of honor," said Taichi, not so much boasting but rather convincing both her... and perhaps himself.
Hakari rolled her moist amber eyes. "O yes what an honorable deed! To go against the corruption of Rome, to fight a battle already lost! Brother, let another do the heroics for a time. Take rest, take rest!" she pleaded wearily.
Taichi lowered his gaze from his sister's hurt expression and replied, "You know I cannot do that. To give up would be to lose my conscience, I must fight for my friends and for father..."
"For father?" hissed Hakari suddenly and bitterly, "Do nothing for that man!" The were savage tears in her throat, tingeing her acidic words with sorrow, "He battled that serpent of corruption until he was killed by it. Our father, our hero, left us alone to fend for ourselves and forgot about us for some will-o-wisp dream of the long past glory of Rome!"
Taichi shook his head of thick dark brown hair and said, "I am sorry... that you see what our father did as a waste. What he did was not selfish; he gave up all his happiness to aid his homeland and his people. If he had to sacrifice his children's happiness as well... Maybe that was cruel but necessary. Given the choice I think I might have had no other option then to do the same."
Hakari's angelic face became slick in the pallor of the moon, a trail of tears along the creamy map of her flesh. "Yes, I know. I see you falling slowly down the same path as father and I want desperately to hold onto you and make you stay... But I can't, can I? Somehow you are already gone..." she whispered to him, frustrated and helpless.
Taichi looked at his saddened sister and suddenly took her in his arms, hugging her tightly to him. He spoke to her in a hushed tone, as her damp check pushed into his shoulder, "Sister, what happens next is already aligned in the night sky. I may fight for the Roman Lion and also be made to leave you. But know this now, if that is true then I will think of only you as I lie in the sun dappled halls of Olympus and never ever will I forget you."
The girl was enveloped in her own grief and overwhelming feeling of despair. Taichi had been like a father figure to her all her life, caring for her even when they were surviving only on the kindness of others, and now to be suddenly threatened with his disappearance... Why it was almost too much for the girl. But Hakari wasn't a weakling and she soon stifled her tears for her brother's sake. Looking up into Taichi's handsome face, she said, "Go now and remember me."
The man stared at his young sister for a moment, the beautiful maid who had grown up before his eyes and had never looked so mature to him until now. Then rising up all his might he stepped back and he sprinted down the dark road. Taichi ran, the faint trace of tears blurring his vision, until he finally came to a small house in the center of the city. Ivy climbed up the wooden pillars and a small candle glimmered in gilded bands across the window. He proceeded to the door and knocked three times.
There was rustling heard on the other side of the door and after a few minutes, a voice hesitantly inquired, "Who is at my thresh hold?"
"It is I, General Taichi. I come as a friend and informer to Koushiro."
There was a movement of locks grating in their bolts and then the door opened to reveal a short red haired Koushiro dressed in a nightgown and slippers. His face was handsome for a scholar, and youthful too, still retaining traces of a boyish spirit. "Sorry for all the extra security measures, Taichi, but I've had to be especially careful lately with all the enemies I seem to be making," the man spoke and then opened his door wider. "Come in friend."
Taichi stepped foreword and entered the warm, inviting room. Koushiro's furniture was plain and simple to look upon yet useful and comfortable, much like Koushiro liked to think of him self as being. The air smelt of aged books and the ruminants of a late night snake, cinnamon clinging to Taichi's nostrils.
The wise speaker of the Senate ushered Taichi to a chair and asked politely, "Sir, can I offer you some hot tea on such a chilling night? I'm afraid I'm all out of Chamomile but I just recently bought a parcel of Jasmine in from the Indies and it's quit delicious."
Taichi shook his head and, as quickly and as courteously as he could muster under the straining situation, replied, "No, I fear we have hardly any time for pleasantries tonight, dear friend."
"O and why is that?" Koushiro spoke, his face giving away his feelings of anxiety, his fiery brow rising.
"I overheard Erasmois speaking with Emperor Yamato at the party and he spoke of his fears that you may be rising up a revolution. The Emperor wasn't particularly worried but I believe Erasmois may try an attempt on your life sometime in the near future, Koushiro."
The red haired man sturdied himself on the arm of his chair and sighed, "I had some idea he might. It was my own fault for speaking at tonight's party... But I could not help myself after watching those royals gorging themselves on roasted boar and swilling back wine when out on the street their 'undesirables' struggled to survive. I found myself unable to ignore the inconsiderate injustices swarming around me anymore. I just... could no longer play blind."
Taichi agreed with Koushiro, nodding his head of thick brunette hair, "Yes, as do I now. I feel myself growing increasingly more eager to show these cowards that not all their subjects are as weak and broken as they believe."
"Then hopefully all of Rome is becoming just as fervent and are preparing themselves for a revolution, eh Taichi?" his friend responded, a rare emotion for these times caught in his voice - hope.
Taichi was less believing yet he spoke to Koushiro, urgency in his deep eyes, "That is why you must flee now. You must stay hidden for a time and then convince the Senate to go against the tyranny which rules the empire. This revolution will need you alive, Koushiro."
The speaker of the Senate rose from his chair and reached over for his warm woolen black cloak. "Alright, I am on my way," he spoke curtly and turned towards the entranceway, placing the robe over himself.
Suddenly there came a knock at the door, heavy and thudding, and a booming voice cried out, "Koushiro, come to the door! I have a message to deliver."
Taichi pulled forth his sword from its sheath, a familiar din of metal slipping across its case echoing across the small room, and then whispered to Koushiro, his tone grave, "Go out the back and escape unnoticed. I will distract the Emperor's blood hounds."
Koushiro nodded and carefully ran to the back way. He opened the door, a small fracture of iridescent moonlight sent free to scatter along the floor, and was halfway out when Taichi suddenly called in a hushed tone, "Koushiro, were can I find you when the time comes?"
The wise Koushiro looked over and replied, "Don't worry, Brave Lion Eye, when the time is ripe I will find you." And then, leaving the rest to fate, he stepped out into the pitch black of the night and gently shut the door.
"Koushiro, you buffoon, open the damn door!" rumbled the man on the other side of the door. A very angry delivery boy at that.
Taichi strided over to the front entranceway and shouted back, "Hold your horses, I'll be there in a moment!"
The General opened the door to see a tall burly man with a bald head standing there, cutting the outline of a gigantic bear. There was a sword at his hip but Taichi doubted he'd use it, he didn't need to, by sheer seize alone he could easily clobber an unsuspecting victim. His face was hidden by the shadows but his small glistening black eyes twinkled and glittered like dark shards of precious stone. Taichi wasted no time, having surprised the man because he had been expecting a helpless and half-awake Koushiro to answer the door when it was obviously not the case, and lashed out with the hilt of his weapon, knocking the giant to the ground with a spurting gash over his left brow.
There were nearly ten men all gathered around Koushiro's house and they all brandished metallic weapons. They were soldiers but the lowest form of them, the greasy ones that did not mind running night 'errands' as long as it got them a few extra coins in their pockets. Taichi at once knew he was outnumbered yet he put up a brave fight as they savagely leaped on him. The man took down four of them, slashing out with his blade and laying them flat, before he was finally beaten to the ground.
"Haul him up!" barreled Holton as he staggered to his feet. He lumbered over to the aching and bleeding Taichi with a smirk playing on his lips. Blood rushed down Holton's cheek from the wound the General had inflicted upon him. "You hit me good with that hilt, huh? I'm bleedin' bloody Underworld eh? Well I'm going to make you wish you hadn't spared the blade on me, boy," he growled cryptically before raising a powerful, thick fist and contacting with Taichi's face.
The world went blank for Taichi, with only hot white stars bursting over and over against his eyelids, before finally it all disappeared in a blur. A vision tramped about his feverish brain and danced above his eyes, mocking him with its sour tale.
~
A man ran down the lane, his pale face a mask of panicked fear. Helios had hair of dark brown and eyes of pale amber; his body was riveted with muscles the likes that only a fighter would have. A spindly boy, about the age of six, ran at his side, his innocent face peering with curiosity down the darkened path. Clutched in the man's warm arms sat a two-year-old girl, her soft brown hair fell about her eyes and her tiny angelic face was wet with tears.
"Father, my legs are getting tired," whined the little boy and he slowed his pace a bit, breathing in deep.
The misfortuned man looked down at his son and replied compassionately, "I know son, but we must all gather our stamina... Pretend for father that you are racing Hakari home for supper, son. You always win those races now don't you, Taichi?"
The boy beamed up with a grin. "Uh hu! I'm the fastest boy in all of Rome, father!" he trumpeted. Then seeming to forget his weariness, Taichi dashed off and soon his father came running up beside him, matching stride.
The man turned his head to glance down the road and saw three military issued steeds galloping in pursuit, appearing to him like ethereal nightriders come to end his life. Hot breath stains billowed from their nostrils and their snorts ruptured the still of the night, rumbling along the buildings. Helios frantically pushed onward and saw up ahead, on the very brink of the city, a bridge covering a slow moving stream. He directed his son over to the wooden bridge and then led him down the slope, beneath the dark covering of the structure. The boy's feet sunk deep into the damp sand, plastering to the soles of his worn leather shoes, as he was pushed his back up against one side of the wooden bridge, hidden by the shadows.
Up above the horses' hooves could be heard clomping overhead and panting with exertion. A soldier's voice echoed across the still night air. "Helios! You coward, come foreword! Come out now or else we will find you and those two brats and beat all three of you to death!" he cried spitefully.
Helios took Hakari out of his arms and placed her into his son's embrace. She reached out with a chubby hand and cried softly, missing her father's touch already, "Dada!"
The man looked softly at his daughter, his eyes teeming with remorse, and took her hand in his. Kissing it gently, he whispered to her, "My beautiful Hakari, stay with your brother and listen to him. My little songbird, how I will miss you..."
"Where are you going father? Why are those men chasing us?" the young Taichi chimed quickly. This appeared to him like one of those adventures his mother would read to him at night before she passed on when he was five, like some tale of a young hero having to flee before his final bout with the evils of the world. He had no doubt this was not an end, his father would grow strong and rise up. Just as all heroes did in the stories, this would have a 'happily ever after'.
Helios turned to his son and hushed him, "I must go away son. Worry not about me and take good care of Hakari and yourself. Know that I will always love you."
Taichi looked scared, for the first time the peril of this situation began to sink into his young mind, he'd be truly and utterly alone. "F- Father, but I am not strong enough to watch over sis and I! I need you, father!" he urgently cried.
The man put a hand on Taichi's shoulder and with his other hand touched his son's young cheek, running his tough work-worn thumb across his supple flesh. "You are my son, you were born strong. Life makes a person hard, that is not difficult to come by, but sometimes there are a rare few who are born with courage inside them. I feel this in you, Taichi. Remember what I once told you, son?" he asked him, gazing down on his son.
Tears were now falling from the boy's brown eyes as he clung to his sister and welcomed his father's kind loving touch. "Yes," he whispered in his childish logic and repeated what he somewhat recalled his father saying to him. "That I am a lion ghost," he responded matter-of-factly but of course the repetition was skewed slightly.
The man nodded in grim approval, a lopsided grin gliding over his face, singeing the darkness a bit. "That is right, Taichi. You have a tough spirit, the spirit of a lion. I can see it in you, the roar of the large cats. Remember that Taichi. Remember you have a lion spirit for the rest of your life. That will give you all the strength you need son." Then Helios kissed his son's forehead and climbed up the embankment.
*
"Calantha there is someone here to see you. Will you receive them?" said a tall, high-cheeked old woman clad in a gray smock and apron. Her peppered hair was tied back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, pulling at the ends of her temples, and her dark eyes gazed at the girl lying back in her bed.
The young woman had long raven black hair that trailed down her back in silky strands and startling blue eyes that gazed out at the world listlessly, fringed by a dusting of long black eyelashes that brushed against the rises of her cheeks. The moonlight descended solemnly over her flesh, as if trying to revive her with its shimmering metallic beauty, and yet she lay there vacant and immovable. She lay in a small bedroom, rosy flower patterned wallpaper adorning the walls and the flitty sent of honeysuckle passing in the air from where it clung to the trellis by her lone window. Calantha wore a thin dusty pink nightgown tied to her with a satin ribbon and a blanket was draped over her limp, weak legs. The girl looked so fragile, like a tiny pale-skinned porcelain doll that at any moment could be cracked by a hard breeze.
The nursemaid shook her head, whispering to herself, "I don't know why I bother to ask, the poor dear won't give me a reply, ever since that dreadful accident." Then she stuck her head out the door and called, "You can come in, sir."
In entered a man with dark brown hair and astonishing emerald eyes, his walking gate uneven as his dead foot fell hard across the floor. "Thank you, ma'am," he responded and offered her a smile of thanks; one the crafty man probably practiced a lot.
Nanny nodded her head and nervously wiped her hands upon her apron. "Yes and don't stay long, you hear? I fear all these visits could tire Calantha dreadfully. You know, she's not a crystal ball or some wandering gypsy, she's but a young girl!" she clucked.
Erasmois replied with a slight nod of his head, "Of course, Mrs. I'll take extra care not to make her too weary and I'll only stay for a few short minutes."
His attempt at charming the old nursemaid only resulted in a wrinkled tight- lipped scowl. The woman 'hmphed' and then was on her way out the door, leaving it slightly ajar so she might listen in if ever Calantha was in need of something.
"Good evening, Calantha. You look just as lovely as ever," Erasmois said with a smile, as was his usual greeting. Yet Calantha remained the same, her face stiff and lifeless. Erasmois coughed and then spoke again, "I'm sure you know why I'm here. You are the only valued Seer in all of Rome, you predictions have never led me astray yet, and I must ask you a question: What will happen if I might seek more power?"
Calantha's blue eyes reflected nothing yet her frost tinted lips opened slightly and words sprouted out like a song in a girl's beautiful voice, "Erasmois, crippled son of the politicians ~ You are sniffing out dominance like a snake ~ To all my heeds I know you will not listen ~ Your life is his to take."
Erasmois furrowed his eyebrows together and smacked his lips together. Again he spoke, yet harshly now, all his good manners melting away like winter's ice, "What are you talking about? Surely you are mistaken, Calantha! Perhaps your head is all befuddled, search again for my future and do not sully it this time!"
The girl began to shake as if a tremor creased over her body and she started to speak once again, this time however her voice was loud and her poetic words were now screamed, tarring from her lungs as if it were a battle cry, "Bring forth the sword ~ The man is twisted with his greed ~ Bring forth the sword! ~ Make his deformed body bleed!" Her words were shouted with such loathing, raucous and gritty.
Erasmois' slick eyes swelled wide and he stood up from the chair, distancing himself from the crazed girl. The nanny dashed in and immediately set about calming the young woman as she shouted to the man over Calantha's tortured shrieks, "Leave now, you dreadful man! Leave the girl to rest!"
Erasmois seemed quite shaken himself and his fingers trembled as he rose up his cloak and was out the door in a flash, dropping only a few coins at the doorpost.
The nursemaid held the girl to her chest and soothingly patted her head. The old woman shushed Calantha, rocking the girl back and forth like a babe. Her eerie eyes were swollen into large discs, luminescent in the dark, and her pale skin was coated in a filmy sweat. Calantha whispered weakly over and over as her nanny held the cold, lifeless girl to her, "In the ground the snake will forever lie ~ You shall bring about triumph, Lion Eye."
*
A big muscular man walked down the aisle dragging behind him an arm that appeared to belong to a motionless Taichi. He wore a soldier's leather tunic and a badge of beaten silver was clasp to one shoulder, signifying his importance. On all sides of the large man, caged in barred prison cells, there were sobs for help and shouts of lewd remarks. Dirty faces pressed out against the frozen bars, mouths brimming with tarnished yellow teeth spitting and cursing at him as he passed.
The man came to stop at the sixth cell and started to retrieve his heavy keys, the metal trinkets rattling away in his pocket.
A man, tiny and gaunt, stood with his face close to the edge and his hands clasped around the bars. He snickered, "Another lively one I see, constable? Another one for you to grope and beat, eh?"
The constable, finally having retrieved his set of iron skull keys, unlocked the dank dungeon cell and gruffly said, "Shut your gob, tiny Hang Nail, or else I shall take my club to your back side."
"O I bet ya'd like that, you black hearted man," smirked the prisoner, his wide brown eyes glittering and his face thick with grim.
The jailer threw the poor beaten man onto the hard stone floor; a slight groan compressed from the man's lungs as he slammed against the ground, and then locked the cell back up again. He took from his belt a ruddy stick and in a flash struck it against the tiny man's bony knuckles that clutched the jail's bars. The prisoner screamed and cursed in pain and the constable laughed perversely, "Aye, I'd enjoy it greatly so you best not give me a reason to bruise ya up." Then the jailer strided off to his desk.
"Aw bloody horseshit! I have to learn to keep my mouth shut," griped the tiny blonde haired man as he sat down upon the floor beside the unconscious man and sucked on his grimy fingers. Then, his throbbing knuckles forgotten for the moment, the tiny prisoner looked over at his cellmate and then poked him with a knobby index finger.
"Ya alive chum?" he asked and was rewarded with no reply. Happily he began to search the man's tunic for any items as he spoke to what he believed to be a corpse, "No? Well then I'm sure you wouldn't mind me lifting off a few trinkets eh? Just between cellmates o' course..."
The man searched and finally found something of value: a thick golden ring with a lion embezzled on it left in his tunic pocket. The prisoner eagerly reached for the ring when suddenly a hand shot up and grabbed him by his weak wrist. "Don't twitch a muscle or I'll snap your hand clear off."
The tiny man looked up in fright to see that Taichi was in fact alive and his brown eyes were storming. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you... I- I just thought..." Hang Nail stammered, trembling uncontrollably.
The strong man let go of the bony wrist and sat up, saying, "Yes I know what you thought. That I was as good as dead and I'm actually very close to it."
The blonde recovered from his fright and released a satisfied sigh at realizing he'd be allowed to keep his hand for at least today. "I can see that. Pardon my frankness, but you look like Hell. Got in a bar fight?" he questioned, rubbing at his wrist.
"No, actually something much worse," Taichi responded mysteriously while flickering his gaze around the prison. It was a typical establishment, grit managed to gather everywhere and there were scarcely any windows except for one way atop the cell, small and barred to allow banded light to stretch along the walls. There was the smell of wet dirt heavy in the air along with the decay, of vegetation or flesh Taichi was not sure, and water trickled somewhere far off, siphoning along the mortar joints running along the stone floor. Vivid green moss clung to corners and it was eerily silent, this was a place were people had given up even the thought of freedom.
"Don't tell me, trouble with the Empire right?" Hang Nail questioned correctly and brought Taichi back from his thoughts.
"How did you know?" the brunette man snapped in alarm. Had it gotten out already that the famed General had been beaten and accused of being a heretic to the Empire?
The scrawny young man leaned up against the wall and piped smugly, "Well I'm a very observant man and I noticed your ring is one given to military officers of high rank."
"What has that got to do with me being an outlaw against the Empire?" Taichi questioned, inspecting the man before him with a suspicious gaze.
This brought a slithering smile to his narrow face and Hang Nail chuckled dryly, parting his lips to reveal rows of stained yellow teeth, one was even capped with silver. "Listen fellow, if you're currently in with the high officials, you're bound to piss 'em off one day or another. They cry spy or conspirator just as quickly as they call a mistress to bed!" he exclaimed wisely.
Taichi softened a bit towards the man and laughed, "I like your style." Then he held out his rough scarred hand and added as warmly as the man could muster, "You can call me Lion Eye."
The tiny man shook Taichi's hand vigorously and replied with a boisterous boom, "And I am known as Hang Nail, the greatest thief and love maker in all of the United Kingdom."
*
"Miss, I'll have another cold ale please," spoke a dark haired young farmer whose dirt-smudged face was littered with freckles. He sat back at the table, bashfully admiring the pretty bar maid, referred by all as Sora.
The woman smiled, an act which appeared to brighten up the entire tiny bar, and nodded her head. Her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair looked sleek in the crackling firelight and her pleasant face glowed with a radiant kindness. "Of course, sir," Sora said and her lovely voice stood out from the loud chatter of the tavern's customers, graceful and warm like an open invitation.
Then the slender female adorned in a peasant's binding pale blue bodice and long white skirt crossed the room and went behind the bar. Customers swelled within the tavern, most were men back from a hard days work in the field and a large amount were secretly here to steal glances at their resident beauty, Sora. A homely woman with a plump belly and blonde frizzy hair, her large swelling mantel covered by a black shawl, was already pouring a mug of amber ale. She handed it to the girl, saying as she did, "There ya go lass. Take this to ya fine gentl'men customer an' then see to tha big-mouthed arse over at th' far table."
Sora lifted her cinnamon eyes just far up enough to view the muscular man dressed in Roman soldier garb and a glimmering sword, with the empire's symbol embezzled on it, dangling at his belt. He was laughing with a few of his loud buddies and then, catching sight of the beautiful Sora, shouted with a weighty bang to the table top, "You, girl! Get yourself over here with a few beers!"
The portly Irish woman looked at Sora with a grimace and sighed, "Wish we never had ta hear head nor tail of these army buffoons... But we got nay a choice, bes' just to serve 'em an then send 'em on t'eir way." Her eyes shown an intense deep blue like the farthest depths of an ocean and her smile was broken, teeth protruding at odd angles from the dry chapped lips that smacked together often. Her face was lined with a few splattering of wrinkles and it sagged from wear but in a certain light you could almost catch sight of the stunning beauty she must have possessed in her prime.
Sora offered up a consoling smile and patted the woman on her sturdy shoulders. "Don't worry about it, Mrs. O'Merril. I can handle this lot of drunken fools," she said, offering up a wink, and then was off to serve her customers.
The bar maid finished giving the drink to the young dark haired man and then bravely approached the soldiers.
"And what can I get for you this evening, gentlemen?" Sora asked with a sarcastic grin, a hand to her hip.
"A Gods-damn pint of ale!" roared the man, his buddies finding this most amusing and setting to howling in response.
The girl's mocking smile remained and she bowed politely, "I'll be back in a moment then, sir."
But before the girl could leave, the man's strong, calloused hand shot out and he clutched Sora's wrist, petting her soft skin with a rough thumb. "Hold on just a second there, girl. Maybe I was a little harsh in yelling, eh? You are awfully pretty, you know that? Certainly fair enough to wake up in bed beside. Perhaps there's something else I would like to get along with my order of beer." the man let his words drift off seductively. His face was handsome with a strong cleft chin and rich hazel eyes, filled with a drunken lust. Hair of light brown adorned his head and his skin was pale like butter cream, one could tell he'd lived his whole life a soldier and would most likely die one.
"If you don't let go, you'll be getting a blackened eye with your order," Sora growled in response and her pretty scarlet eyes narrowing as the pain on her wrist increased.
The man erupted with hearty, spiteful laughter, spittle flying from his mouth. "Didya hear that, fellows? This wench thinks she can outmaneuver a gaggle of soldiers, Rome's finest sons!" The man's chums snickered beside him, giving the girl wanting glances.
"Fine sons the lot of you are," Sora spat, her eyes jagged with hatred, "Making advances on women and bribing shop keepers for all their coin, practically snatching the daily bread off their tables! The only sons you bunch are is of the dogs!"
The soldier's nose flared with anger and his other hand flew out and contacted with Sora's cheek in the flash if an instance, slapping her clear across the face. He saved her no force, putting all his might into it and causing her to snap her head to one side, an ache spreading along her taut cheek. The tavern grew silent, all eyes turning towards the scene, as the man snarled, his temper glowing like fire embers, "Do you dare speak of heresy against the Empire?"
Sora lifted a hand to her hot cheek and her jaw locked together, her crimson eyes ablaze with defiance. The sting still lingered on her skin but she bit back any threatening tears, never would she show such weakness to these scum. She replied wisely and evenly, her crimson eyes turning molten and moist in the firelight, "I know not of nor wish sacrilege against my own homeland. You, sir, are the vandals of Rome! You penetrated Rome with your wrongs and raped it of all its virtue."
The man made a quick movement upwards, knocking his chair to the floor with a clatter. As he did so he wasted no time in grasping downward and pulling forth his gleaming sword, a weapon that echoed the cries of its numerous wrongly slain victims. He pushed the point just inches from Sora's thin swan-like throat and said, "How dare you speak of such filth!"
Mrs. O'Merril waddled from out behind her bar and rushed in between the two conflicting individuals with pudgy arms raised. "Stop righ' there, laddy! You an' your ninnies know ther' ain' any weapons pulled in me tavern," the frizzy haired woman said sternly, wisps of blonde frayed curls framing her face.
The soldier pushed Mrs. O'Merril down onto a chair forcefully, placing his forearm across her shoulder and shoving her into a sitting position, his dark eyes glinting dangerously. "Stay out of my way, old hag, or I'll slice your fat clear off your bones," he growled and Mrs. O'Merril gasped in shock at the gory image. Then the man turned back to Sora and hissed, "See this grand sword I have pointed at that delicate little throat of yours, serving wench? My Father, the Roman Empire, bestowed that to me after I fought for him in battle. He has provided for me when no one else gave a shit and clothed my back when the rain clouds set in. I have sworn my life to my Father, and promised in turn to take the life of anyone who lashed tongue against him. Do you do such a thing now? Must I splatter your pretty red blood upon these tavern walls?"
Sora looked straight into the man's face and felt the sword point dig a little deeper into her throat, causing a tiny trickle of blood to ooze forth and pool in the hollow where her collar bones met. Without hesitation she uttered, "Rome would be shame-faced to have you as his son."
The girl thought herself dead then; her last words had been uttered. The seconds drifted by so slowly, every movement like a ripple shivering in a pool of water. The soldier was about to plunge forth his sword into the woman's windpipe, his face so alive with anger and yet so desensitized of all things associated with death, when abruptly The Boar Tusk Tavern's doors swung open with a hollow bang. Out from the dark cold night stepped a short boy, covered in a large woolen jacket and a hood which hid most of his wind-beaten face, and he shouted urgently, "A swindler just made 'way with five fine army-issued steeds! I tried to stop him but he galloped off, towards Eastbrook! Hurry men, off to the chase!"
Suddenly the tavern was awake with cries of alarm as the inhabitants bolted out the doors in hot pursuit of the horse thief. The soldier who held Sora in her perilous position threw her to the floor and ran out into the night, shouting, "Can't a man trust his ride outside without worry that it will be stolen, post and all, from out under his nose?"
Mrs. O'Merril fell to the floor beside Sora, onto her aged knees, and lifted the girl into her protective arms, petting her head affectionately. She sobbed, "O m' God in Heaven! I've not been so scared since poor Mr. O'Merril fell dead as a boiled cabbage head in m' arms. O my, what a beast those military men are, like a pack of wil' dogs all come out t' feast on the bones of the innocent folks!"
Sora patted the old woman's back and felt a tear form in the corner of her eye. "Aye, I know. But it certainly could have turned out much worse," Sora said and then turned her attention to the boy standing in the doorway. "The only reason it didn't was because of you. I don't know if fiends really made flight with those soldiers' horses or not, but all the same, thank you. Is there anything I can offer you in return for your aid?"
The cloaked figure nodded his hooded head and spoke, his voice cracking as his words escaped from out of a parched throat, "Water..." Then suddenly the boy's legs gave way and he crashed to the ground in a fatigued heap.
Sora and Mrs. O'Merril dashed towards the fallen lad and Sora knelt down, removing the hood from the young man's sweat encrusted face. His dry lips were parted to release short ragged breaths and the dry dirt caked at his boots suggested he'd had had a long walk here. His fiery red hair was plastered to his brow and Sora took his head in her warm lap as Mrs. O'Merril ran to get some water.
*
Closing Notes:
I bet you figured out who the boy who saved Sora is huh? Don't worry though this is still a T/S ficcy. My history knowledge is not that great but I hope I was correct in assuming people from other nations and countries made their home in Rome/the provinces too. O ya and I made Sora a strawberry blonde just because I think it sounds better then orange hair, don't you think?