Longer chapter, hope you're all happy! This one isn't very good, took me a long time to edit it and fix it up so it was post worthy! THE MORE REVIEWS THE QUICKER I UP DATE!
Two weeks later
Solomon smiled as Joey struggled with a white toga. He'd learned Latin fast, remarkably fast, though he still had a heavy accent. Of course, Solomon had helped his young pupil along slightly, a smack or hard push in the right direction. It had crushed Joey when he found out he might never return to his land, never see the rolling dunes or the river Nile, but he never brought it up. Solomon had been deceived at first, he thought that perhaps the boy wasn't as stubborn as he'd believed, but he soon realized that Joey had simply hidden his burning hate under a mask of stupidity.
"Master Solomon." He asked quietly, finally finding how to tie his toga correctly.
Solomon looked up from the parchment he had been pretending to read. "Yes?"
"When they took me, I was wearing some jewelry, it was very- very..." He searched for the word. "Important to me. Especially the earrings, I believe Nb(1), has them. Could you- would it be possible, if you could get them back?" He asked, voice low and pleading.
Solomon thought for a moment. "I will speak to his lord about it." He smiled at the boy. "But do not mention them to him, remember, you are a Hm(2)."
Joey's face contracted in disgust, though he bowed his head. "I am lucky, the Pharo's slaves are not treated kindly."
Solomon bit his lip, not wanting to dishearten the boy by telling him of the gruesome reality of a Roman slave. "Well, I believe your Master wants you. Time to show him what you have learned...Joseph."
Joey bowed low, rolling his eyes at the Latin translation of his name. "Thank you for your kindness Master Solomon." He muttered, feeling awkward in his Roman attire.
O0oo0O
Seto lounged in his rooms, unrolling a scroll broadly. He had walked in to watch the boy's lessons, noticing how his presents made the boy slip up and glance at him nervously. He's wondering what I'm like. Seto thought, laughing. He yawned, opening his desk and pulling out the bag of jewelry. He poured the contance on the desk top, inspecting the interact work and skilled craftsmanship.
The braslets were plain, gold bands, one or two twisted in the form of a snake. They looked like simple things; perhaps he had bought them at market, or gotten them as a gift. The next he inspected the necklace, it was tight, a choker, with a red ruby, shaped in a diamond, hanging from it, it was guided with gold and carved with Egyptian writing. It was more special, an heir loam, or a more treasured gift. Last he looked at the earrings. There were four of them, one gold stud with something carved on it, two small hoops carved to look like snakes with rubies for the eyes, and a fourth, long dangling tooth. The tooth was held in place by a gold cast, with rubies set into it. The tip had been sanded off and replaced by a diamond carved down to the exact shape.
The earrings were different. He thought to himself, something he'd want back? But he hasn't asked for them? Has Solomon said anything in my Egypt lessons about scarred jewels? A tooth carved and covered with gold? He frowned, slipping the jewelry back into the bag and setting it on the desk. There was a knock on the door, Seto stood, sighing and putting away some parchments.
"Enter." He said, grumpily. The door opened and Solomon stepped in, leading the boy behind him, his anklets shackled and hands bound.
"My Lord Seto, I have done a miracle!" He smiled bowing to Seto. "I've taught this savage Latin."
Seto raised his eyebrows. "In two weeks? Such a short time?"
"Yes my lord."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes my Lord."
"Yet he does not wear the collar of a slave?" Seto frowned, meeting the boy's eyes, the boy glared at him, his long lashes covering his hateful eyes. He was dressed in a toga, white and blue in the royal colors, though like other slaves, he did not wear a studded iron collar around his neck.
"He would not let me put it on him." Solomon said, biting his lip. "I have it with me, perhaps you could...persuade him?"
Seto smirked, taking the collar from his teacher. "Of course. But later. Thank you for teaching him, I'm sorry you had to waist your time on such a infidel."
The boy bristled. "I am-"
Solomon looked at him sharply, he fell silent. "Do you require anything else, My Lord?"
"No, no, you may go." Seto said, he sighed and sat back down at his desk, reading over one of his many documents.
Solomon bowed again and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. The boy shifted nervously from foot to foot, watching Seto. Seto looked up and snorted.
"You look ridiculous in that thing." He commended.
The boy looked down at himself and blushed pink. "In my home land, only priests, and women wear garments like this."
Seto looked vaguely interested, but went back to his documents. "And what did everyone else wear?"
The boy seemed to struggle for the words. "Light shirts, armor, breaches? Mostly skirts."
"Skirts?" Seto snorted from his paper work.
"Yes."
"Like the one you were wearing before?"
"Most are not as grand as mine, but yes, like the one I was wearing." The boy bit the inside of his cheek.
"Did you like them?"
"Umm." The boy bit his lip.
Seto, believing he had been taking too long to answer, looked up glaring. "What?"
The boy swallowed. "More than these type of things," He plucked at his toga. "It feels unnatural."
Seto frowned. "You look stupid. I'll have some other cloths brought for you."
"Thank you." The boy smiled.
Seto raised an eyebrow. "Thank you what?"
He bit his lip again, looking down. "Thank you master."
Seto nodded smugly. "My brother tells me you sing?"
The boy blinked. "Yes master."
"Sing something for me."
He seemed reluctant. "All songs I know are in my tong, they do not translate to... Latin."
"I told you to sing, I don't care what language." Seto growled.
Joey blushed, opening his mouth to sing...
"Far across the sandy dunes, My heart is waiting for you, Death may take me, Before we meet, But I shall be yours forever.
I dream of you, Of your face, I dream of your eyes, So sharp and new, Your hair soft with due.
You love me, You come to me, I hold you tight, You kiss me softly, We fall to the sand.
I dream of you, Every night, The sands that separate us, The days that keep us apart. My heart is yours to take,
It is a calling that the gods send us, A calling I can not ignore, I know you feel me, Dream of me, Know me, Yet I don't know what more.
Far across the sandy dunes, Beyond the reach of time, I'll travel far to reach you, My love for all of time. "...
His soft soprano voice slowly finished the song, the language was one that Seto didn't understand, but it sounded strangely wonderful, softly and magical.
"What is it about? Is it a ballad?" He asked.
The boy frowned. "Kind of, it is about a couple who have never meet, but the gods send them dreams of each other, it is his proclamation of love to the other."
"AH, I see." Seto frowned. "Your gods, are there many?"
They boy nodded. "Very many, though my god is Ra."
Seto frowned deeper. "You are to never speak of them again, do you understand?"
The boy's face drained. "But they are my gods!" He protested.
"They are heathen myths. You are in a Roman house, you will worship Christ." Seto snarled.
"But...I can't!" The boy whispered, Seto made him immediately regret his words.
"You will." Seto ordered, landing a left hook on the boy's jaw and sending him stumblingly back wards and falling to the ground.
The boy's eyes flashed. "Never." He hissed.
Seto snarled again, kicking him hard in the side. "Then I will beat the heathen ways out of you." He threatened.
The boy glared. "Do your worst, nothing can make me forget my gods and my loyalty to them!" He yelled.
Seto's lip twitched in anger. He pulled the boy to his feet, slamming him against the wall. "Then you will suffer!" He kneed him in the stomach, throwing him to the ground. "Ateama!" He yelled for the guard outside his door.
The door opened ant the burly guard steeped in, bowing deeply, his curly black hair falling in front of his eyes. "Yes My lord."
"Take this slave down to the lower court yard and have him whipped, twelve lashes. Let him sleep out in the cold over night." Seto ordered, snarling at the boy's defiant face.
"Yes my lord." Ateama said, bowing and grabbing the golden haired boy ruffle. The slave's face suddenly twisted in brief fear, but it was gone, or covered, in a flash.
O0oo0O
Joey screamed in pain as the final lash came down on his already bloody back. They had stripped him down to his breaches, which he wore under his toga, and bound his hands to two posts, set a few feet a part. The guard proceeded to bring a heavy whip down on his bare back him, will over twelve times. He was blinded with pain and blood loss by the time the guard was done. The guard untied his wrists and Joey fall into the dirt, motionless. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, sweat and coppery. Joey cough, more blood landing in the dirt as he tried to feebly stand up. Blood dripped down his mangled body, pain seared though his back and mind, he whimpered slightly, closing his eyes.
"Disgusting, heathen, slave." The guard muttered, nudging Joey with his toe. He ran his foot softly down Joey's side and leg, looking him over. "Pretty on the eyes though. What fun we could have with you, 'eh?"
Even on the edge of passing out, Joey's eyes flashed with hate and anger. "I kill you." He hissed, his Latin sounding broken and mangled in his anger.
The man laughed, squatting down next to Joey. "How?" He asked, his face sickeningly close to Joey's. "How?" He asked, again, his tong darting out and licking away a speck of blood on Joey's face.
Joey flinched; trying to get away, while the stronger man twinned his fingers through Joey's hair.
"Mmm, such beautiful hair." He purred, licking the side of Joey's face. Joey twisted angrily, lashing out with elbows and knees feebly. The man pressed his lips against Joey's frightened ones, pressing hard and snaking his discussing tong into the other's mouth. The kiss was salty, disgusting, and painful.
Joey squirmed, closed his eyes and screamed into the kiss, he pulled away, fighting it. Blood dripped down his back and mixed with the dirt and the man pushed him into the sand. He screamed out again, feebly trying to get the man off of him. He closed his eyes tightly as he felt the guard's mouth press firmly againt his, engaging him in yet another lust filled kiss. He squirmed, clenching his eyes shut tighter. The other man's gruff hands traveled over his body, rubbing his torso, legs and back. Joey screamed feebly as he felt the man reaching to pull off his breaches, he opened his eyes again to see Ateama, Seto's guard, standing over him and the other man.
Ateama tapped the guard's back lightly, the guard turned and paled. "I do not think that his Majesty would like it if you did that to his personal slave." Ateama said, face emotionless.
The guard's face twisted as he got off of Joey. "He threatened to kill me, he needed to be taught a lesson." He snarled, standing up and dusting himself off.
Ateama's gaze was level and expressionless. "I don't recommend you do it again."
"But..."
"Or perhaps you didn't hear me correctly, use the household and common slaves for your enjoyment, not the royal." Ateama said, voice dangerous.
The guard muttered and apology and bowed, running off before he got in more trouble.
Ateama looked down at Joey's frightened and blood speckled face and smirked. "Get up."
Joey tried feebly to pull himself to his feet, holding onto one of the heavy posts to keep steady. "Th-thank you." He muttered, looking down.
Ateama smirked. "I didn't do it for you." He looked at the boy distastefully. "If I am correct you are a virgin?"
Joey nodded dumbly. "Yes sir."
"Then Lord Seto will want the pleasure of breaking you himself." Ateama snorted, turning to go, expecting Joey to follow.
Joey stared terrified. If he went with the guard back to the Prince, he would have to...but if he stayed he would be beaten again. He shuttered at both prospects. "He-wont-wont." Joey asked, stuttering.
Ateama turned. "Eventually, more likely than not." He sighed. "Do not fear it."
"How can I not?"
"Just don't." Ateama said, rolling his eyes. "Come, now, before your wounds become infected.
Joey nodded, limping behind Ateama, fear eating at the edge of his mind and heart. He watched the tall, unfamiliar buildings, the dark stone, shivered against the cold that nipped at his body. A tear trickled down his face, yet he swatted it away shamefully, bowing his head to fight the cold and wind.
Ateama pushed Joey ruffle to the ground as they entered another court yard, walking over to the wall behind Joey, he unlocked two heavy hand cuffs that were cemented into the wall, shoving Joey back into the and pulling his wrists up painfully, twisting them into an unnatural possession. He smirked at Joey, snapping the cuffs shut with a dull thud. The tall man cocked his head to the side, looking into Joey's distasteful eyes.
"Stupid slave? Think we care about your kind." He whispered.
Joey's eyes flashed. "What made you think I wanted you to care?" He hissed, resaving a harsh blow, causing his head to hit the wall behind him with. He grunted, glaring up.
"I'd quash that tong of yours, if you want to keep it." He snarled, kicking Joey hard in the side. The said doubled over in pain, hissing, only to find his head colliding with Ateama's raised knee. Once again his head hit the wall behind him as he jerked back in pain, this time, causing him to black out completely.
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