Marcus stood at the gate to the modest stables on their property, broom in hand. Looking up he paused, watching Esca in the little wooden round pen they had made together after they had purchased their first horses. Now, thanks to Esca's excellent eye for breeding stock, they had some new foals and a few purchased yearlings in addition to several mares and a great black stallion. In the ring dust flew in the humid air as Esca moved the little bay yearling around the ring with the help of a soft willow switch. The animal's movement's were still a bit gangly, but fluid with promising strength.
Watching in envy, Marcus's fingers twitch slightly. Though the horses had originally been his idea, a necessity for planting the crops they wished to, he soon came to realize that Esca had a very deft hand with them, in fact far defter than his own. He spoke to them in gentle whispers of his native tongue, like sweet nothings in a lover's ear, the way he did only once in while with Marcus, and while feeling a certain amount of pride in his successes with taming such strong beasts, also felt a bit of jealousy. The horses took up much of Esca's time to train, and while his training was fascinating, it protracted from his time with other man on many occasions. With a sigh he leaned his chin upon the end of the broom handle, content to watch and yearn in the hazy morning sun.
"You are Marcus Aquila, am I not correct?"
The voice made Marcus start, and instantly reach for his scabbard which he did not have since he was no longer in the army. Old habits die hard. Turning he saw two men: an older, squat, jolly looking fellow, and a younger, sharp eyed man who did not smile.
"Oh! Auraleus and Brutus, yes? We met yesterday in the market. How did you know to find me in the stables?"
"We saw your friend down here," Aureleus, the stouter man, said, a grin on his face. "We were hoping to catch you in the stables."
"What kind of horses were you looking to train?" Marcus asked, setting the broom aside and moving over to the stalls.
"Well we happened to see you riding a great black stallion just the other day, and were wondering if you'd be willing to sell him? Some of the talk in town is that he has always been with you and is a great friend of yours, but we thought we would try anyway."
Marcus frowned, looking over at the black beast at the end stall. It was the same horse that had carried him all through the north, even when the Esca's grey gelding had passed. He was a strong, beautiful horse, as loyal as Esca in some respects, and after all that they had been through, he didn't really want to part with him. But on the other hand, he was getting up in years, and deserved to go somewhere to just be a stallion, instead of the multipurpose horse that he and Esca used him for. That and with as much money as they would get for him, he could buy some scrolls for Esca, who in the year they had been together had turned out to be much more the scholar than Marcus ever was.
"What were you thinking as far as price?"
"We were thinking 600 would be a fair price," Brutus monotoned.
"700," Marcus answered. "He is a great friend."
"625."
"700."
"650."
"Done," Marcus said and sighed. "I suppose I'll have to break the news to him tonight, going to a new strange home and all."
"Any tips for making him more comfortable?" Auraleus asked, seeing how conflicted Marcus was about selling him.
"Don't treat him like a slave. He's too proud for that. Just make him think he's free and that things are usually his idea, and he'll behave." He paused and chuckled. "I remember one time I just let him go, freed him, thought he deserved to be so, and there he came, running back to me." Marcus didn't need to mention that it was probably because the horse had spooked at a wild boar scared from the bushes. "You'll be by later to pick him up?"
"Give us a few days to make room and get the money together, and we should be fine. Thank-you very much Marcus." Both men reached out taking their turn to grasp Marcus' forearm and seal the deal.
Esca could feel Marcus' eyes on him, but he smirked inwardly to himself. Marcus did that from time to time, just stood at watched him, as if Esca were to fade away into thin air. With little effort he turned his attention back to the yearling circling around him, watching his every move with undivided attention, just as Marcus did. When he thought about it, they were a lot alike, except for the fact that Marcus' movements were much more put together and competent, his body the very pinnacle of desired roman soldier physique, save the old battle wound upon his left leg.
Suddenly the eyes were no longer there and Esca stopped. Usually Marcus watched for at least ten minutes, but here he had only done so for less than two. Frowning he lowered the switch and stopped turning, resulting in the yearling slowing down and stopping, still attentively watching Esca. A little confused, he grabbed the little rope halter of the colt and pulled him through the gate and back up he embankment toward the barn.
The corral sat diagonal to the building, so one could not just look out the stable doors and see it, but would have to turn right and look down buy the Ash tree. As he approached he could hear Marcus' voice, and then another voice he did not recognize.
"-just the other day, and were wondering if you'd be willing to sell him? Some of the talk in town is that he has always been with you and is a great friend of yours, but we thought we would try anyway."
"What were you thinking as far as price?"
"We were thinking 600 would be a fair price."
"700," Marcus answered. "He is a great friend."
"625."
"700."
"650."
"Done," Marcus said and sighed. "I suppose I'll have to break the news to him tonight, going to a new strange home and all."
"Any tips for making him more comfortable?"
"Don't treat him like a slave. He's too proud for that. Just make him think he's free and that things are usually his idea, and he'll behave." He paused and chuckled. "I remember one time I just let him go, freed him, thought he deserved to be so, and there he came, running back to me."
Esca turned away, a hand over his mouth, feeling increasingly that he was about to throw up, but could not tell if it was in rage or shock. Maybe both? Fury infiltrated every molecule of his being, vibrating and causing him to shake with wrath. No. No. This would not do.
Sucking in a deep breath, his jaw clenching, Esca steeled himself. This was a private matter, and he would not be helping his case is he came out shooting arrows. No, he would allow his betrayal and anger to fester until it became the cold steel of resolve for a confrontation. So Esca did just that going about his usual daily training, tending to the crops, while Marcus miraculously stayed out of his way, running to town and taking the day to clean his armor, on a mannequin by the praying and incense altar in a back room.
Thus it was not until late in the afternoon, when the sun hung just above the mossy old trees by the west end of the house that Esca was finally in proximity to strike. He had been just rinsing out the iron pot for dinner that night, when Marcus appeared carrying a satchel with some wax scrolls from town, and a grin. Esca wanted to rip his face off. Marcus opened his mouth in greeting, but Esca cut him off. "You lied," he said softly but with much detectable venom.
The smile fell from Marcus' lips and he had the audacity to look surprised. "What are you speaking about?"
Esca turned his full body to the former soldier, clenching and unclenching his hands, his jaw tight. "My freedom. You lied."
Marcus set the satchel down, a serious countenance growing on his face. "Esca, I freed you back-"
"Did you? Because on my honor I will never go to those people you sold me to this morning, and it is not your right to say that I will!"
Marcus paused, looking for all the world like he was trying to wrack his mind for when he had said anything to anyone about selling Esca. "I don't know what you're talking about Esca. I have no right to sell you, nor would I ever wish to. You are my friend."
For a second, Esca doubted, but then the burning anger of the conversation that morning revisited him. "That is not what I heard this morning! You would sell me for 650…" Esca spat at the ground and brushed past Marcus. Marcus tried to grab his arm, but it fell through his grip.
"Esca wait!" Marcus yelled, turning to follow, but Esca quickly picked up a run. He did not wish to hear anymore of Marcus' lies. The heavy footfalls of the soldier died away as he sprinted down the dirt path, past the stables, past the small gated entrance and into the streets. A part of him felt guilty, knowing Marcus could never keep up on him with his bad leg, but another part of him hoped that leg burned. As he neared the town Esca slowed, catching his breath and wiping sweat from his brow. Looking behind him he saw a clear road, with just a cart he had passed a little while back.
Sighing, he looked at the dim road before him which ran through the busy little village. In the bright sun of the day it would be bustling and full of people, but with sun hidden by trees as it sank, the stone and wood houses and shops cast imposing shadows across it, cloaking the people doing a last bit of trading in dusky light. Slowly he walked down the dirt street, his anger slowly ebbing, Marcus's confusion playing at the edge of his thoughts. Maybe he was wrong…
"You are angry with someone, aren't you child?"
The rickety voice caused Esca to jump. He usually always heard people coming up behind him, but the old woman he saw as he turned had managed to do so. The was nearly as tall as him, and wore black garments, well fitted, defying her grey hair which seemed to have a mind of its own. Esca remained quiet and stared hard at the women.
"Shall we assume you are then?" She asked again, a pleasant smile playing on her lips.
"Do I know you?"
"No, but you should wish that you did."
Esca raised an eyebrow, watching as people passed around him. She turned, walking slowly over to one of the alleys between the shops. Surprisingly, it did not smell of piss, as back alleys so often did as he followed her. Esca felt uncertain, a strange aura coming from her, but as she smiled at him, his worries melted away. Despite her age she was quite beautiful, and as he looked down, he noticed small blue tattoos on her sandaled feet. She was a Brigantes, like him.
"What do you want?" he asked.
She looked surprised. "Just to help is all. I enjoy helping those in need of love therapy."
Esca frowned, knowing that male-male relationships weren't exactly status quo, and unwilling to make more trouble for himself. "No thanks."
As Esca turned to leave, she called back to him, "But what will you tell your Roman lover when you return home? That it was a mistake? That he can sell you away?"
Esca stopped and looked at her. Smiling again, she held out two small viles. "Here. You drink the green one, and slip the other into his drink. Then, you will have a lover you can tame and get along with!"
"How do you…" Esca began, taking the viles reluctantly.
She laughed and it was such a sickly sweet sound. "I'm a healer! It's what I do!"
The second Esca slipped into their villa, he made his way to the kitchen, setting a pitcher of mulled wine on the coals, and then pouring two goblets. In one he poured the green vile, and in the other he poured the blue. Candlelight illuminated the room as Marcus barged in, his face a picture of worry. "Esca! I've been looking everywhere for you! Where were you?!"
Esca simply rained as eyebrow, similar to earlier that evening, and held out the cup with the other liquid and warm mulled wine in it. "I was in town. Cooling my head off. Here. A peace offering."
Marcus seemed confused at Esca's even tone, but relieved at the offer. Taking the goblet he sipped. "Warm wine," he murmured. "Thank-you." He took another large gulp as Esca sipped his and continued. "Listen Esca, I'm really sorry you got the wrong idea earlier, but…but…" Marcus stared at the floor, seeming to lose focus on his sentence.
"Marcus?" Esca inquired, setting his goblet down.
Marcus gripped the side of the heavy wooden table, the candlestick on it illuminating his pale demeanor. "I…I don't feel right."
Esca, moved closer to help his lover, but Marcus simply looked up at him, a frightened look upon his face. "Esca…" he whispered, before his knees buckled underneath him, and he crumpled to the earthen floor. Esca tried to catch him, but suddenly his legs began to feel weak, and he fell to his knees.
"That witch…" he ground out, trying hard to stay upright, but failing miserably. Within seconds, the edges of his vision dimmed, and everything slowly became black.